#stopped clocks eh

[likesdoodling]

Look guys! It's Menolly! (and Beauty) :D:D:D Been re-reading some Anne McCaffrey books. Dragonsong was the first Pern related book I read (wasn't allowed to read the 'grownup' ones till I was 15), and since my other favourite book at the was 'My side of the mountain' (running away from home and living in the forest kinda thing), Dragonsong had me hooked. But it's been a while so coming back to it after a few years was pretty cool.

[necrotic-nephilim]

What's so fun about BruJay as a ship is Jason's sheer obsessive devotion to Bruce. Jason is possessive over Bruce, to the point he doesn't care about the deaths of others so long as he has Bruce's attention. A part of the UTRH arc this isn't talked about enough is that Bludhaven fucking explodes mid-way and Jason won't let Bruce see if Dick is alive.

batman (1940) #650

A lot of discussion about UTRH paints Jason as this anger-driven cold, calculating machine up against Bruce when it's so clear that his love for Bruce is what drives him at his root, even if he won't acknowledge it. He says it himself, he would've done anything if it was Bruce who'd died instead of him and his anger is rooted in that possessive devotion not being reciprocated.

batman (194) #650

BruJay as a ship always to be, to some level, unrequited. Even if Bruce loves Jason back in that way, he'll never be that obsessed with Jason. Jason will always view Bruce's love for Dick or Tim to be a distraction, proof that Bruce isn't dedicated enough to him. Jason has the need to always have Bruce's attention, even when it could come at the cost of Bruce's other loved ones. Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love in how Jason wants to consume Bruce's whole existence. He can't let Bruce leave him again, can't let Bruce love or grieve anyone else. Forcing Bruce to choose between Jason and the Joker isn't just about confronting Jason's killer, it's about confronting the other person who exists as this duality with Bruce and consumes so much of Bruce's life. That's the role Jason wants to fill, calling himself Red Hood and forcing Bruce to look at what he's become. But still loving Bruce and wanting more than anything for Bruce to reciprocate that love in the way that Jason understands. I just think it's good soup and rife with Dynamics that are underexplored with them.

[thefastestclockintheuniverse]

There was a lot of reluctance towards fate/fighting I noticed in tonight's pages. Rose's seemed motivated by... almost ennui. Dave's by... principal, would you call that? And Jake... okay it's not quite the same thing as the others - but he just wants the adventure to end and to go home.

[king-of-birds]

my dumb ass is fighting the urge to rebrand my tumblr every 2 weeks to match my new discord profile

[wendichester]

Hiii I was wondering about a really intelligent reader, like they do regular research conferences, go to an Ivy League school, are getting their PhD etc. With Dean, Dean starts to feel insecure because he catches them and Sam having long talks about subjects he doesn’t get but reader comforts him, saying how much they love how strong and safe he is, he his the brawn to their brain, how he is smart but either way it doesn’t matter bc they love him even if he was a dumb as a bag of rocks. I NEEDDD them to coddle his head in their chest n rock him while they lay in bed and they reassure him he is smart and lovable!!

I LOVE MY SWEET BOY RAHHH‼️‼️

Than you preemptively🫶🏻

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ brawn & brain,

summary. you're book smart. dean's street smart. it's the perfect mix.

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 394

notes / warnings. we love us a smart reader ehe 🤭

The sound of laughter pulls Dean from sleep.

He blinks against the dim bunker lighting, rolling over to find your side of the bed empty. The clock reads 3:17 AM.

Padding barefoot down the hallway, he finds you and Sam hunched over the library table, surrounded by open books and half-empty coffee mugs. Sam's gesturing wildly about some obscure lore, and you're nodding along, eyes bright with that sharp focus Dean's come to adore—even if he only understands every third word.

"—so if we cross-reference the Enochian with the Sumerian tablets—"

"Right! Which means the ritual would've needed—"

Dean lingers in the doorway, something heavy settling in his chest.

You notice him first. "Dean?"

Sam turns, grinning. "Hey, man. We were just—"

"Yeah," Dean cuts in, voice rough with sleep. "Heard."

The way your smile falters tells him he's been too sharp.

Later, when Sam's gone to bed and you're curled under the covers together, Dean can't stop replaying it—the easy way you and Sam fit together intellectually, like puzzle pieces he can't force himself into.

You sense it. Of course you do.

Turning in his arms, you press a kiss to his jaw. "What's wrong?"

Dean shrugs. "Nothin'."

You give him the look—the one that cracks him open every time.

He sighs. "Just... you and Sammy. All that research crap. You get each other."

Your fingers still where they'd been tracing his collarbone. "Oh, Dean."

And then you're maneuvering him, gentle but firm, until his head rests against your chest. Your fingers card through his hair as you rock him slightly, like he's something precious.

"You listen to me," you murmur. "You're brilliant. You keep us alive out there—your instincts, your reflexes? That's a kind of smart no book can teach."

Dean huffs, but he doesn't pull away. "Yeah, well—"

"And even if you weren't," you continue, tipping his chin up to meet your gaze, "even if you were dumb as a box of hammers, I'd still love you. Because you're you."

Something tight in Dean's chest unravels.

"You mean that?" he whispers, uncharacteristically small.

You kiss his forehead. "With my whole damn PhD."

Dean's laugh is muffled against your skin as he pulls you closer. Maybe he'll never quote Latin or debate ancient texts. But here, in your arms? He feels seen.

And that's better than smart.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[screampied]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TWENTY THREE MISSED CALLS — G. SATORU

☆ sum. you had always nagged to your boyfriend satoru to answer his damn phone. it’d always go straight to voicemail—you told him in your own words, ‘toru, what if something ever happened to you?’ but this time, it was far too late.

wc. 1.7k tags. gn!reader, angst, nickname(s) 'baby, angel.'

an. idk how to write angst much but i was sad so came up w this. merry christmas :)

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

such a dork.

you lost count of how many times you listened to that automatic message over and over again. the playful cheekiness in his voice, you could just see his smile. the dumb dimples that poke out against both of his cheeks whenever he grinned.

a cute dork. your dork.

besides that though, it’s been at least twenty three times of you ringing him, but to no avail. each time it went straight to voicemail—sucking your teeth in confusion, you started pacing around your bedroom. it was christmas morning, and gojo promised he’d be here before you wake up.

he couldn’t be…

no, he’s gojo satoru. he always wins, right?

right..?

the more you waited, the more impatient you became. the room grew colder and colder, despite the heat being turned on. you sat on gojo’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent, as if he was here right now.

he’d always fill up the room with his loud cologne scents—you’re always telling him how it’s too strong and he always kisses your cheek, muttering, “eh really? i don’t smell it that much, baby..”

the scent was always sweet, a mixture of cinnamon and multiple other spices—you glanced at the roségold alarm clock that rested against your nightstand, the time reading six thirty am.

he still wasn’t here.

it was hard to not overthink, think the worst, gojo was always so good at calming your nerves. you’d be one to constantly overthink. his trick to stop that was to simply hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and tell you in a soft cheery voice, “hey angel, everything’s gonna be okay. i’m okay, we’re okay.”

but again, he still wasn’t here.

gojo mentioned to you before he left last night around midnight he had to ‘take care of something’ — his code word of he’s about to go into battle or fight, but he didn’t want you to worry about him.

that’s the very last thing he wanted. and if anything, he always assured you he’d be okay. even if he was beaten to a pulp by his enemies, he’d always return back home to you with that stupid lovable grin on his face.

so what made christmas day any different?

you swallowed the thick, nonexistent lump in your throat, trying to snap out of your deep melancholy thoughts. dragging your feet,

you rubbed your eyes from the sun just barely shinning through the curtains scattered throughout the house.

with a soft sigh, you made your way towards the christmas tree — the pretty lengthy tree the both of you decorated together last minute, a tiny smile went on your face at remembering how gojo kept accidentally breaking all of the ornaments, so he had to constantly keep buying new ones.

lights, glimmery multicolored lights, a plethora of ornaments and a pretty sheeny star sits at the very top. you sat on your knees, before glancing down at the various presents — one caught your eye, it was a tiny box. a velvet heart shaped box, and gojo told you it was the biggest surprise yet.

you paused, glancing down at your phone that was about it to die soon, wondering why gojo still hasn’t returned any of your calls.

he’s been gone for hours, and the knot in your stomach continued to tighten—it felt like something inside of you was squeezing, tugging you from the inside.

was this what a gut feeling feels like? something was telling you, screaming at you that something wasn’t right.

with shaky hands, you went to his contact for what seems like the millionth time, staring at the image that was his picture, him and you.

the both of you were being goofy, it was a old polaroid picture a few years ago of the both of you during your birthday.

he spoiled you so much that day, but as always he never forgot to repeat how much he loved you.

the phone rang three times and your mind pretty much knew mentally he wasn’t gonna answer, it was a bit foolish for you to continuously keep trying. but something in you told yourself, it’s satoru. he’s gonna answer. anything to reassure yourself, this happens a lot — gojo’s the type of person who always has his phone on silent, or he says he’ll call you back but ends up forgetting.

after a few rings, the same automatic voicemail plays, and just hearing his voice again, no matter how many times — it never fails to make your heart swoon.

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

you intake a sharp breath, closing your eyes before bringing the warm phone up to your ear, pressing it against your cheek before speaking in a voice.

a voice you hardly recognized, “…toru?” and you were on the brink of tears, it was easy to hear and you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you but at this point..

was it really worth holding on to?

fifteen long seconds passed and you forgot the phone was still in your hand.

you sniffled, gathering yourself briefly before continuing in a soft drowsy voice, “h-hey, um. i don’t mean to blow your phone up but, you aren’t responding and i’m getting kind of scared. are you okay?”

you pause again, feeling the sting of tears nearly escape through your eyelids before you squeeze your eyes shut, lightly squeezing your left thigh to prevent any more emotions from revealing themselves.

“i um, just wanna say i love you, and i hope you’re okay. i didn’t wanna open my gifts until you got here but you’re taking forever..”

and you manage to crack a tiny smile that purses against your lips—yet after a while, it fades and your heart feels like it’s just walking on egg shells. “but anyway, yeah. i love you satoru, text or call me back so i know you’re alright, please? and just get home safe okay? bye.”

you hung up the phone and a single tear ran down your cheek.

so much time had passed, and he still wasn’t here. it was nearly seven in the morning now, and your dumb curiosity got the best of you—you wondered what gojo’s big surprise gift was.

he wanted you to wait to see your reaction, but you were just so curious, so enthused.

you started to peel the pretty striped velvet wrapping paper off, one at a time, it was neatly wrapped with a perfect red and blank bow tied on the top.

once you opened it, it had a tiny black box, and your eyebrows raised, a note sticking out the side. grabbing it, you revealed it and it read in neat handwriting:

“hi baby!! merry merry christmas, i’m kinda tearing up while writing this, and i know i know you probably just wanna see the gift but first read this ‘kay? just wanna say i love love you so much, and i’m so glad we’ve been together for almost four years now. you mean everything to me, you’re so sweet and kind, always there whenever i need to talk my feelings out, or even if i just need to lay on you and fall asleep. but anywho, you know who loves you? this guy! hopefully i made you smile as you read this, im probably not at home yet but ill be back soon. don’t worry your pretty little head, alright? i love you baby, merry christmas from your honored one, xoxo.”

tears were in your eyes—and it was like you could hear him, he was right, you did manage to smile. sniffling, you placed the note aside before opening the small black box.

once you pulled the top back, your eyes widened, seeing a small coruscating ring. your heart sang, blinking twice to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

gojo was planning to propose..?

the ring was so pretty.

various scattered crushed up like pearls around the top, and once the tears started, they kept streaming down your face. you quickly pulled it out, sliding it on your ring finger and it was a perfect fit — in a frail sob, you mumble, “y-yes, i’ll marry you satoru.”

yet — that’s when you wake up, finally snapping back to reality. confused with tears still streaming down your face, burning.

“satoru?”

no answer.

you get up from the bed, your eyes widen before you look at your right hand — and the engagement ring was still there. a sigh of relief exits your mouth, and that’s when you make your way towards the kitchen.

nothing to worry about, maybe you just fell asleep while opening the gift. yeah, that had to be it.

although, the atmosphere of your house felt different. taking a quick glance in the living room, the christmas tree wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t snowing, and it was almost as if you lived by yourself.

“satoru?” you called out again, before pulling out your phone — scrolling towards your messages and your heart suddenly sank. the last message you sent him was two years ago, a subtle ‘satoru, it’s christmas and you’re still not here? are you okay?’

christmas…?

you pulled a tab down on your phone — and the date read march 17th. approximately two years later from when you last sent that message, and you were so confused.

but the further you scrolled down, you saw messages from others, sending you their regards and condolences for your loss….loss?

the recent message was from geto — and your last reply was, ‘thank you, i’m doing okay. i just still can’t believe he’s gone.”

. . .

you felt sick — tear after tear racing down both sides of your face before coming to the sudden unfathomable realization.

gojo never came back home for one reason and one reason only. he died a painful death those long two years ago, even though he swore he’d come back to you on christmas.

perhaps everything was all a lie.

sometimes people don’t win all the time, not even the honored one, the love of your life, gojo satoru.

[babydollslibrary]

LABYRINTH — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem! reader

published: January 26th, 2023

summary: y/n goes through the 3 stages of falling in love with her best friend; realization, fear, and relief. based on the 3 “i’m falling in love” lines in Labyrinth by Taylor Swift.

gif not mine.

REALIZATION

i felt like my fingertips may freeze off. and the longer i sat in the glass seat in Prudential Center, the colder they got. i’d been to too many of Jack’s games to count, but it never failed that i always forget how cold it really was sitting directly by the ice.

“i’m freezing my tits off.” i looked over to Luke Hughes, who occupied the seat next to me.

“Luke, you don’t have tits to freeze off.”

“what are you talking about? mine are bigger than yours, eh?” he jokes. i let loose a mock gasp and hit his arm.

“how rude!”

with two minutes left in the third period, i was grateful the game would be over soon. i was less grateful, however, that it was looking like the Devils would be breaking their six game win streak tonight. they’re currently down by one, with the Panthers having four goals against the Devils three.

i had my eyes glued to the puck, mumbling to whatever higher entity would listen, praying for a last minute game tying goal. luck was on our side tonight because with ten seconds left on the clock, Dougie managed to slap shot the puck straight past the head of Bobrovsky and into the net. i shot to my feet, clutching onto Luke’s arm as he stood beside me, both of us with wide eyes and our jaws dropped open.

we settled back in our seats a few minutes later to watch the additional five minutes of overtime, both of us hunched closer to the glass, my hands fidgeting in anxiety. i watched as Jack, Nico, and Dougie skated to the center of the ice for puck drop. Dougie gains possession of the puck quickly, skating it into the Panthers zone before dropping it back to Nico, who tries for a one-shot, which is knocked away by Bobrovsky. Jack gains control of the rebound puck and makes quick work of snapping it into the goal.

Luke and i once again raise to our feet, cheering for his brother and my best friend. Jack skates around the glass bordering the ice, arms up in the air in celebration before skidding to a stop in front of us. our eyes lock and he lifts his hand against the glass. heart fluttering, i place my hand directly against the glass to match his and he mutters out two words.

“for you.”

a low simmering arises in my gut and i feel my heart skip a beat, or three, as he skates away to hug his teammates. what was that? am i having heart palpitations? should i be going to see a doctor?

i catch Jack’s eye once more as Nico taps his helmet and he flashes a smile my way. in return, my heart flips again. my mind whirls through thoughts faster than a hummingbirds wings before settling on the only real explanation.

uh oh, i’m falling in love.

now i meet Luke’s gaze and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though his reason for it, i’m not too sure. i’ve been friends with all of the Hughes brothers since elementary school, it’s not as though he should suspect anything between Jack and i.

FEAR

it’s been 2 months since i came to the realization that i was falling in love with Jack, and now i’m leaned against the doorway leading into his bedroom, watching him pack for a roadie. the heart fluttering and stomach butterflies have long since vanished, leading me to believe that my traitorous heart got the memo that he and i will never be more than best friends.

“you’re sure you don’t wanna bring a friend out to the game? you can bring Luke if he can get away from UMich for a weekend.” Jack’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and i give a slight shake of my head to clear my thoughts.

“i don’t know, i’ll let you know. i already talked to Luke but he said he has his own games this weekend. maybe i can find someone to come out with me, but you know i’ll be there regardless.”

“i would be sorely disappointed if you weren’t there. you know how happy it makes me to see you in the crowd.”

and as if a flip switched, the heart flutters were back.

“i’m your biggest fan Jacky, of course i’ll be there. no matter if i have to go alone or not.” i moved my way fully into the bedroom and picked up his messily packed bag, flipping it over and scattering the clothes on his bed before idly folding them and placing them right back into the duffel bag.

“you know you don’t don’t need to fold my clothes, right? i can do it myself.” Jack folds his arms and hits me with a half smile.

“obviously not, you still pack like a teenage boy. you’re gonna end up with wrinkles in all your shirts.” i roll my eyes and sit on the edge of the bed as i continue to fold.

“you love me.” he retorts, finally joining into the folding. my heart skips a beat once again, and i know that he doesn’t mean it in the way that i do, but my hopeless romantic side doesn’t seem to understand that.

**

after dropping Jack off at Prudential Center to catch the bus to the airport with the rest of his teammates, i’m laid in bed on the phone with my friend, Emma.

“the game is on Saturday, if you wanted to fly out with me. Jack is willing to pay for your flight so that i won’t be alone. but if not, that’s cool. i can go on my own.”

“yeah, i can go! although, i’ve gotta say; you’re really sure this guy is JUST your best friend? i mean, what “just friend” is willing to pay for someone to fly out to one of his games JUST so you won’t be alone?”

“that’s just the kind of person Jack is. he’s exceptionally sweet. and he has this protective nature. he doesn’t like the idea of me going to games alone because he knows how people can be. he’s so thoughtful and always prepared to help in any way he can.” i can feel the smile gracing my lips but no matter how much i try, i can’t will it away. i always get happy talking about my best friend.

“you’re in love with him.” Emma singsongs and i can hear her smirk through the phone. “i can tell by your voice. you get the same airy lilt that my sister gets when she talks about her husband. like you would do anything for him. like he hung the moon in the sky just for you.”

“he’s my best friend, Em. i’ve known him since i was an awkward little girl with lopsided pigtails and gap teeth. obviously i would do anything for him. just being his friend makes me immensely happy.”

“but you want to be MORE than friends. you can’t fool me. i’ve been where you are right now. you love him, but you don’t think he feels the same way. but i can tell you right now that any guy that would go through the lengths that he does to make sure you feel happy and safe, definitely loves you in more than a friend way.”

oh no, i’m falling in love again.

my sigh is loud and clear. rolling onto my side, i place my phone on speaker on-top of the pillow next to me.

“you need to tell him how you feel. or better yet, just kiss him.” Emma speaks again.

“it’s not necessarily just that i don’t think he feels the same way, although i do think that observation is wildly inaccurate. it’s the fact that it could ruin everything if i made a move and i was wrong. he’s my best friend and i can’t afford to lose him.”

RELIEF

the off season has officially arrived, and the thought of having Jack to myself for a few months has me more excited than i’d care to admit. we arrived at the Hughes lake house yesterday, meeting Luke who was already here, and Quinn and Trevor both arrived this morning.

We were all sat outside around a fire now, the guys all drinking beers and reminiscing on past summers spent here.

“oh, remember when Jack was dating that Stacey girl that was renting that house down the street a few summers ago? god she was awful.” Trevor’s voice was a few octaves higher than needed, due to the alcohol in his system, but it mattered little to the others because Quinn and Luke laughed along with him.

“oh c’mon you guys, she wasn’t that bad!” i could spot the red tinge to Jack’s cheeks from my spot beside him, the firelight sharing an orange glow to admire him in.

“uh dude, yeah she was! she was so jealous of y/n that she pushed her off the boat!” my eyes get wide and i start shaking my head at Trevor, dragging my hand in front of my neck in a stop motion, but he just kept talking. “and don’t you remember all those nasty things she said about her? girl was just plain awful!”

i look back up to Jack just in time to see the frown that takes place. he looks towards me with furrowed eyebrows.

“wait what? why did you never tell me any of this?”

“oh shit did you not know?” Quinn’s laughter cuts off and he looks genuinely concerned. “y/n, i thought you told him when you told us.”

i shake my head and avert my gaze down to my feet but Jack has other plans. grabbing ahold of my chin, he moves my head to look towards him again.

“i didn’t say anything because i didn’t wanna ruin your relationship or sound like a jealous bitch. and you guys eventually called it quits anyways, so what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is that you didn’t tell me sooner, y/n. the big deal is that i would’ve tossed her to the curb immediately if you had told me she was acting that way. YOU wouldn’t’ve been the one ruining the relationship, SHE would’ve.” his voice is sharp and kind of daunting, contradicting his soft gaze pointed on me. i can see the worry in his eyes and know his next words before he says them. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, Jack. it was a long time ago. can we please just forget about it?” i sigh and muster up a smile before turning back towards the fire. “do you guys remember the time we saran-wrapped Luke to his bed while he slept?”

“YOU WERE IN ON THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!” Luke’s words make the other three guys all burst out in laughter.

“who’s idea did you think it was, Moosey?” Quinn is hunched over in laughter at the memory and i’ve slowly started scooting forward in my seat in preparation for what i know will come next.

“oh i’m gonna get you for that!” Luke shoots to his feet and that’s all it takes for me to set off like a race horse.

i can hear his footsteps not far behind me, chasing me into the house. i shut the back door behind me, in order to save me a few precious seconds and i run straight into the living room, leaping behind the couch and settling into a hiding spot between the sofa and the wall. i can hear Luke bound into the room before he moves onto the next room, but then i also hear the footfall of the other three coming in from outside as well. no longer than ten seconds pass before Jack’s head pops up above me, a large grin spread across his face.

“hello there.” the shock makes me jump and i laugh and poke his nose.

“shhh, don’t let him find me.” Jack pretends to think, nodding his head and tapping his chin with an index finger before-

“LUKE! SHE’S HIDING BEHIND THE SOFA!”

i let out an incredulous gasp and pop back up into a standing position, ready to run once more, but Jack wraps his arms around my midsection, keeping me planted in the spot.

“i thought you were my best friend! how could you betray me like this?! our friendship may never recover! i don’t think we can ever be friends again after this!” my mockery and jokes come to an abrupt pause when he takes a seat on the couch, pulling me down to fall into his lap. i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and i look away, hoping he can’t see my blush from this angle.

“you can’t get rid of me that easily. we’re soulmates, y/n, remember?” and cue the butterflies once more. “you said that when we were 10. i didn’t really understand it at the time, but now i think you might’ve been right.”

oh, i’m falling in love.

i can feel his breath fanning my ear, and i peek over my shoulder to look at his face. our eyes lock and i know my entire face must be red and spotted from my blushing, but the look in his eyes makes me feel like the most beautiful girl alive right now.

his eyes flicker down to my lips once. twice. and one final third time, before he starts to lean in. and with a mind of their own, my lips follow until they graze his. the kiss is light at first, nothing more than a peck, before he finally captures my lips with his. his arms loosen around my middle and his hands trail to settle onto my hips, turning me mid-kiss to fit better on his lap. i pull back, leaning my forehead against his, and a wide and breathtaking smile graces his lips.

“i’m falling in love with you, y/n. i think i have been for the past eleven years.”

[mingi-s-dimples]

New Year's Eve - Yungi (Special)

Happy New Year's Eve & Happy New Year, sweethearts! 🎆

pairing: ceo!mingi x model f!reader x manager!yunho

genre: 18+, filth(ish)

summary: alcohol loosened your mouth a bit.. and your actions had gotten bolder to the point you fucked both your ceo and manager. but fuck it, they were whipped for you anyways.

wc: 6.1k

warnings: ceo!mingi, co-ceo/manager!yunho, fashion model f!reader, alcohol involved (champagne and whisky), Mingi is damn wasted and desperate for reader, Yunho is more controlled but he's also done for, oral, double oral (mhm yes she takes em both hihi), soft deepthroating, soft hair pushing/face thrusting, making out, teasing, drunken confession, in my opinion Yunho could drink more than Mingi and Mingi would still be gone & wasted, oral sex (f), use of sex toys (vibrator), use of hand restraint (Yunho's belt), some praise sprinkles, double penetration, threesome, did I say Mingi is needy?, lots lots of cumm, overstimulation, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I completely forgot to post this bro 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I was out all day and night for nye and I completely forgot. But hey! It's spicy and I was like eh fuck it, no one would've read it exactly on nye soooo here it is finally! I hope everyone had a great if not wonderful time with their loved ones, doesn't matter friends, family or lovers ^^ Happy New Year, Happy 2025 and let's have fun together!!! Love you sweethearts 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The penthouse was a sight to behold, an epitome of luxury that only Mingi could pull off. The crystal-clear windows framed the city skyline, glittering with lights as the countdown to New Year’s Eve loomed closer. Inside, the space glowed with warm lighting and tasteful decor. The centerpiece of the evening was a bucket of expensive champagne chilling on the bar, a nod to the success of Mingi’s fashion empire and the new year that promised even greater heights.

Standing near the bar, Mingi adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp black suit fitting him like a second skin. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, glancing at the clock with a raised brow.

“Late as always,” he muttered, though a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence. Mingi straightened, setting down his glass. The doors slid open, revealing Yunho first, his easy grin and sharp blazer exuding a casual confidence. But it was you who stole the show.

Dressed in a sleek, shimmery black dress that caught the light with every step, you walked out behind Yunho. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the slit high enough to turn heads. In your hands, you held a bottle of champagne, a playful smile on your lips.

“We brought reinforcements!” you announced, holding the bottle up triumphantly as you walked toward Mingi.

“Fashionably late, I see,” Mingi teased, taking the champagne from you. His eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’ll forgive you. You look stunning.”

“Thanks, darling. It’s only fair to match the ambiance of your penthouse,” you replied, flashing a wink before slipping past him to the bar.

Yunho chuckled as he followed, setting his coat aside. “Don’t let her charm fool you, Mingi. She made me stop twice to check her hair on the way here.”

“I just like looking perfect. Is that a crime?” you quipped, settling onto one of the plush chairs near the fireplace.

The evening began with laughter, the champagne flowing freely as the three of you toasted to the successes of the past year. Mingi, ever the gracious host, ensured that your glasses were never empty. Yunho took the role of storyteller, regaling everyone with tales from childhood, including one about a particularly embarrassing moment involving Mingi and a failed attempt at skateboarding.

“Some things don’t need to be shared,” Mingi grumbled, but the fondness in his tone betrayed his irritation.

“Come on, it’s the last night of the year!” Yunho said, raising his glass. “We’re celebrating everything tonight—embarrassments included.”

You laughed, leaning closer to Mingi. “I think it’s endearing. Shows you’re not always perfect.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mingi replied, his voice low and smooth, “I’m far from perfect. But I’m close.”

As the night progressed and the champagne bottles were emptied, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The room was warmer, the laughter louder, and the touches lingered just a little longer. You found yourself seated between Mingi and Yunho on the large sectional, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned toward Yunho, your hand resting lightly on his arm.

“So,” you began, your voice teasing, “what’s the plan for next year? More long meetings where you two bicker like an old married couple?”

Yunho groaned, tipping his head back. “You have no idea how much patience it takes to deal with this guy.”

“Me?” Mingi scoffed. “I’m the reason we’re successful. You’re just here for damage control.”

“And to manage your favorite model,” Yunho added, nudging you gently.

“Ah, yes. The face of the brand,” Mingi said, his gaze sliding to you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You flatter me,” you said, feigning humility.

“Only when it’s true,” Mingi replied, his tone dipping into something softer, something that made your cheeks warm.

It wasn’t long before the champagne had taken its toll. The three of you were sprawled comfortably, the city outside sparkling brighter as midnight approached. You stretched, your dress riding up slightly as you did. Neither Mingi nor Yunho missed it, though they both tried to be discreet.

Feeling bold, you leaned against Yunho, your fingers toying with the lapel of his blazer. “You know,” you said, your voice a little too sweet, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Yunho teased, his brow arching. “This is either going to be genius or chaos.”

You smirked, your fingers trailing up his chest. “Don’t you think we’ve been a little... too professional all this time?”

Mingi, sipping his drink, choked slightly and glanced at you with wide eyes. Yunho froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

“Excuse me?” Yunho finally said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

You tilted your head, your gaze meeting his with a challenge. “You heard me, sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” Mingi echoed, setting his glass down. “Oh, she’s bold tonight.”

“You’re drunk,” Yunho said, though his eyes darkened just a fraction as you moved closer, climbing and settling yourself on his lap without hesitation.

“Maybe,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I’m also right.”

“Weren’t we keeping this professional?” Yunho asked, his hands instinctively settling on your waist.

“Maybe we’ve been too professional,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

The tension in the room thickened. Mingi leaned back in his seat, watching with raised brows and a barely concealed grin.

“Well?” Mingi drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Are you going to let her get away with this, Yunho?”

Yunho groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his hands tightened their grip on your waist.

“And you love it,” you shot back, brushing your nose against his.

With a resigned sigh and a muttered curse, Yunho pulled you closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Mingi let out a low whistle.

“Happy New Year to me,” Mingi said, raising his glass. “This is better than fireworks.”

Yunho froze for a moment, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breath mingling with yours. It took a second for the haze of alcohol and your boldness to fully register in his mind. But when your hips shifted against him again, pressing closer, the wet heat seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his pants, a low growl escaped his throat.

It wasn’t just teasing anymore.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with tension. His hands tightened their grip on your waist, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady himself. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin on your lips as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

Yunho’s restraint cracked. His lips crashed against yours, firm and commanding, like months of held-back desire spilling out all at once. The kiss was nothing short of a claim, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound that rumbled from his chest sent a thrill through you.

Your hips shifted again, pressing against him instinctively, and Yunho let out a sharp breath, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Y/N,” he said again, this time almost a warning, but his voice betrayed the edge of a groan.

Your arousal was soaking through your dress, dampening his pants, and the sensation only made the heat between you more unbearable. Yunho’s lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t help himself.

From across the couch, Mingi watched the scene unfold, frozen in place. He’d tried to stay calm, to play the role of the disinterested observer. But as your hips shifted again on Yunho’s lap, the way your dress clung to you and the damp fabric hinted at just how affected you were—it was too much.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the tightness in his pants now impossible to ignore. He cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself discreetly, but the movement caught Yunho’s attention.

Breaking the kiss, Yunho rested his forehead against yours for a moment, catching his breath before glancing over at Mingi. His sharp eyes took in the way Mingi was shifting, his jaw tight and his glass held a little too firmly. A smirk played on Yunho’s lips as he spoke.

“So,” Yunho drawled, his voice thick and teasing, “she’s not the only one excited here.”

You blinked, momentarily dazed from the kiss, but when the meaning registered, your eyes darted to Mingi. The sight of him—tense, clearly aroused despite his attempt at composure—sent a flush up your neck.

Mingi scoffed, his voice rough as he tore his gaze away from you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You smirked, turning back to Yunho. “What can I say? Guess I have that effect.”

Yunho chuckled, his hands sliding possessively up your sides. “That, you do,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver through you.

Mingi stood abruptly as he made his way to the bar. He poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, trying to shake the images from his mind. The heat radiating from where you and Yunho sat was unbearable, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely.

“I need another drink,” he announced, his tone clipped.

Yunho’s smirk widened as he turned back to you, his fingers brushing along the edge of your dress. “I think we’re making him uncomfortable,” he teased.

You laughed softly, leaning closer to Yunho. “Good,” you said, your voice a sultry whisper.

Mingi clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his glass as the tension in the room grew thicker, almost suffocating.

The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, the kind that made your heart race and every movement feel electrified. Yunho’s hands lingered on your waist as you leaned back slightly, his lap still warm beneath you. Your eyes flicked to Mingi, who was pouring himself another drink with a little too much focus, his jaw tight and his posture tense.

You smirked.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling,” you said, your voice smooth and teasing.

Mingi froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

Slowly, deliberately, you slid off Yunho’s lap, your movements fluid and calculated. For a moment, Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, reluctant to let you go, but he released you with a low hum of curiosity.

You stood, adjusting your dress with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching briefly on the evidence of your effect on Yunho—the bulge pressing against his slacks, darkened slightly where your arousal had soaked through. The sight sent a thrill down your spine, your confidence swelling as you turned your attention to Mingi.

He was pretending to be unaffected, his focus on the drink he was pouring, but his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the glass was just a bit too firm. You sauntered toward him, your heels clicking softly against the floor.

“Mingi,” you said sweetly, standing just close enough that he could feel your presence.

“What?” he replied, his voice clipped, though he didn’t turn around.

You reached out, your fingers trailing lightly up his back and over his shoulder. The touch made him stiffen slightly, and you smiled, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him.

Your hand slid up his chest, fingers teasing over the fine fabric of his suit jacket, and his eyes finally met yours. There was heat there, barely restrained, as if he were trying desperately to keep some semblance of control.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warning.

You tilted your head, your hand drifting lower, over his stomach and down toward his belt. “What do you think I’m doing?” you asked innocently, your fingers brushing against the obvious bulge straining against his slacks.

Mingi flinched slightly at the contact, his breath hitching as his free hand shot out to grab your wrist. “Careful,” he said, his tone dark and edged with tension. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his ear. “Oh, I think I do,” you whispered.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho’s hands appeared on your waist, his warm touch grounding and electrifying all at once. His chest pressed lightly against your back, and his voice was a low rumble as he addressed Mingi.

“What do you think we should do with her?” Yunho asked, his tone teasing but his grip firm.

Mingi’s jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and Yunho as if trying to gauge the situation.

You, however, didn’t hesitate. Turning your head slightly, you met Yunho’s gaze with boldness, then looked back at Mingi.

“I want both of you,” you said bluntly, your voice steady and unwavering.

The statement hung in the air like a firework, bursting with heat and possibility. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly around your wrist, and Yunho’s grip on your waist became more possessive.

“Is that so?” Yunho murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver through you.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You really are something else,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice hinted at something deeper.

“And you love it,” you said, throwing the words back at him with a sly smile.

You leaned closer to Mingi, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against him. The contact was electrifying, your hips moving just enough to graze against the hardness straining in his slacks. Mingi’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist faltering for just a moment before he caught himself, his sharp intake of breath betraying his composure.

“Y/N,” he warned, though his voice was shaky, the restraint in it fraying at the edges.

Before he could say anything else, Yunho’s hands slid over your waist, his touch firm and grounding, yet possessive. His chest pressed against your back, and the warmth of his body seeped into you, making you feel caught between the two of them in the most delicious way.

Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to us right now,” he murmured.

You smirked, glancing back at him. “Don’t I?”

His eyes were dark, sultry, and filled with desire as he looked down at you. The alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue, but his confession came with a weight that made your breath hitch.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a damn long time,” he admitted, his voice raw with honesty and hunger. “Every time you walked into the room, every time you gave me that little bratty attitude of yours, I wanted to take you apart.”

The words hung in the air, making your heart race. Mingi stiffened, his jaw clenching as he turned his head slightly to glance at Yunho.

“And Mingi,” Yunho continued, his tone teasing now, “he’s just as bad. Wanted you just as much. But he’s a pussy and never said anything about it.”

Your lips parted slightly, stunned by Yunho’s bluntness, though a flicker of amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to Mingi. “Is that true?” you teased, your voice lilting and playful, though the weight of Yunho’s words lingered in the air.

Mingi’s gaze darkened, his restraint snapping as the last thread of control unraveled. His hand released your wrist, and in a swift motion, he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you against him. The force of it made you gasp, and before you could process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the bar counter.

His body caged yours, his hands firm on either side of you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously controlled.

You nodded, your confidence faltering slightly under his piercing gaze.

“The truth,” Mingi said, his voice rough as his hands slid up your thighs, “is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my office. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was the professional thing to do.” His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver. “And now, here you are, making it impossible to hold back.”

Before you could respond, Mingi’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss searing and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he claimed you with a fervor that made your head spin.

Yunho’s hands never left your waist, his presence behind you a constant reminder that this was far from over. His low chuckle filled your ears as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your other ear. “Told you he wanted it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and barely controlled.

You nodded, breathless. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” Mingi replied, his voice firm as he pulled you back in for another kiss, his grip on you unwavering.

Yunho’s breath was hot on your ear as he leaned in, his hands still resting on your waist. His voice was husky, full of that delicious edge that only alcohol and desire could bring.

"Should we take this further?" he asked, the words slow and deliberate. "But I can't guarantee you'll be able to walk tomorrow. You might even forget how to be that bratty little thing you are the next day."

Your heart raced at his words, a wicked little smile curling on your lips as you glanced at Mingi. His gaze was fixed on you, dark with desire, and for a moment, it was clear neither of them had any intention of backing down.

Mingi, too drunk to process his thoughts fully, stood without a word, the hunger in his eyes evident as he moved toward you. Before you could even protest, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, his body pressing against yours.

Yunho, eyes never leaving you, followed behind him as Mingi made his way toward the bedroom, his hands tightening around you as he carefully but urgently laid you down on the bed. The movement was smooth, deliberate, like he couldn't wait another second.

The bed shifted beneath you, and you could feel the heat radiating from Mingi as he straightened up. His fingers fumbled briefly with the buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling away from his body, revealing the toned chest you had been imagining for so long. Then, with a look that bordered between hunger and need, he took off his pants, standing tall over you.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and you noticed Yunho following his lead, his eyes darkened and filled with a similar urgency. The way they both moved, as if they were drawn to you like magnets, made your heart race even faster. He'd only taken his shirt off, his patience running thin.

But then, it was your turn.

Yunho moved closer to the bed, and with a surprising tenderness, his hands brushed over your sides, gently lifting your dress over your head. The way he undressed you wasn’t rushed or forceful. Instead, it was slow, almost reverent, as if you were something rare, something to be cherished.

You shivered under their gaze, the anticipation in the air thickening as Mingi and Yunho marveled at you. The delicate black lingerie that enveloped your body seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting, contrasting beautifully against your skin. Both men were momentarily frozen in awe, their gazes roaming over you with admiration and wonder.

"You’re…" Mingi started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung in the air—unable to fully capture the intensity of what he was feeling.

Yunho’s lips parted slightly, his hand resting on the bed beside you as he took in the sight. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with desire, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“I've never wanted to fuck you so bad until now… but that can wait, for a moment” Mingi said, eyes roaming over yours.

The room was softly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Yunho stood near the bed, his tall frame calm and composed, while Mingi leaned casually against the dresser, his grin wide and easy, though the flush of alcohol in his system was evident in the slight sway of his movements.

—

“You know,” Yunho began, his voice smooth and steady despite the faint tint of tipsiness in his cheeks, “I think it’d be better if your hands were tied. Might make things easier for you to focus.”

His eyes flickered toward the leather belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it, the metallic clink of the buckle filling the quiet room. His movements were deliberate, giving you plenty of time to object if you wanted to.

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the anticipation in the air. Turning around, you felt the edge of the bed press against the backs of your thighs as Yunho stepped closer.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice gentle but firm.

You complied, feeling the smooth leather loop around your wrists. Yunho’s fingers brushed against your skin as he secured the belt—not too tight, just enough to restrict your movement without causing discomfort. “Let me know if this is too much,” he murmured, testing the knot before stepping back to admire his work.

“Perfect,” he said, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “Yunho, you’re too good at this,” he teased, his voice slightly slurred but playful.

“She makes it easy,” Yunho shot back with a smirk, gesturing for you to kneel on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric of the comforter brushed against your knees as you adjusted your position, your bound hands resting lightly against your lower back.

The two of them moved to stand in front of you, their towering frames blocking out the dim light. Yunho was the first to step forward, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Start with me,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

You leaned forward, your movements deliberate, as you traced your tongue om his cock, from the base to the leaking tip. Yunho’s breathing hitched slightly, his calm composure wavering as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His touch was firm, guiding you but never forcing.

Beside him, Mingi watched intently, his fingers twitching as if itching to join in. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual boldness softened by the alcohol coursing through his system.

After a moment, Yunho gently pulled back, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he stepped aside. “Your turn,” he said, nodding toward Mingi.

Mingi wasted no time, stepping closer with a lazy grin. “Been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. His hand tangled lightly in your hair, his touch less controlled than Yunho’s but no less careful. He let out a shaky exhale as you leaned into him, his body visibly reacting to your efforts. Your lips sucked on his tip, drawing out whines and soft moans from his rising chest.

The energy shifted as you alternated between them, the rhythm fluid and unspoken. Yunho’s steady presence contrasted with Mingi’s more erratic responses, creating a dynamic that kept you on your toes.

Then came the moment they had both clearly been waiting for. Yunho’s hand brushed against Mingi’s shoulder as they exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.

“You think you can handle both of us?” Yunho asked, his tone a mix of challenge and encouragement.

You nodded, your confidence growing as they moved closer, their proximity forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Yunho tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “Take your time,” he said, his voice steady.

You started slowly, focusing on one and then the other, testing your limits as you adjusted to the new feeling.. of taking both cocks at the same time. Their reactions were immediate and visceral—Yunho’s quiet groans mingling with Mingi’s more vocal appreciation.

As you began to take them both simultaneously, the intensity in the room shifted. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Yunho’s breathing grew heavier, his hand steadying you as he guided the rhythm. Their cocks rubbing together in your mouth as you sucked both off, the stretch you felt in the corner of your lips making your eyes tear up.

Mingi was the first to test boundaries. He softly thrusted in your mouth. The feeling of hitting the back of your throat made him cum instantly, a string of curses escaping his mouth at the surprise of his fast release. Mingi pulled out and caught his breath as Yunho took full control of your head, his cock filling your mouth nicely. As you bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue licking the shaft as you sucked him off, it drove him fucking insane. You sucked harshly on the tip and pressed your tongue into it as he came in your mouth, the smirk in his fafe telling you everything you had to know. He gestured you to swallow everything, a satisfied hum filling the air.

When Yunho finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, and the room was thick with lust. He leaned down, his fingers deftly undoing the belt around your wrists. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across your face. Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his usual boldness tempered by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

—

His lips curved into a sly grin as he got up in a rush and knelt between your thighs, his large hands gently pressing them apart. “I think it’s time we really spoil her,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Beside you, Yunho got up from the bed to rummage in one of the bed drawers, taking out a small vibrator. He turned it on, the faint hum of the toy adding an edge to the already charged atmosphere. “Relax for us,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

Mingi wasted no time, his warm breath brushing against your clit before his mouth followed. The first touch of his tongue was soft and deliberate, a slow, wet stroke that sent shivers down your spine. He took his time, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of you, finding the spots that made you gasp and lingered there.

Yunho watched intently, his sharp eyes taking in every reaction. “She’s already responding so well,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He lowered the toy closer to where Mingi’s mouth worked, the anticipation building with every inch.

The first contact of the vibrator was light, teasing—a gentle buzz that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Mingi adjusted his rhythm immediately, his tongue working in perfect harmony with the toy. He alternated between firm, focused licks and softer, swirling motions, his hands gripping your thighs tighter to keep you steady.

“Good girl,” Yunho said softly, his deep voice grounding you as the sensations began to build. “Let us take care of you.”

Mingi hummed in agreement, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of stimulation. He angled his head slightly, his tongue flicking in quick, precise strokes that made your hips jerk against him. “She tastes so good,” he muttered, his words muffled but filled with genuine appreciation.

Yunho increased the intensity of the toy slightly, the buzzing growing sharper as he pressed it closer to your clit. The combination was overwhelming—Mingi’s hot, wet tongue moving with purpose, and the relentless vibration of the toy pushing you closer to the edge.

“Hold her still,” Yunho said, his hand pressing gently against your lower stomach to keep you steady as your body began to tremble.

Mingi glanced up briefly, his lips slick and his grin wicked. “She’s close, isn’t she?” he said, his voice low and rough. Without waiting for a response, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster and firmer, as though determined to push you over the edge.

The pressure in your core built to a crescendo, every nerve alight as the sensations became too much to bear. Yunho adjusted the toy one final time, hitting the perfect spot just as Mingi sucked lightly, his tongue swirling in tight, focused circles.

Your orgasm hit like a wave, your body arching as pleasure surged through you. Mingi didn’t stop, his tongue easing you through the intensity while Yunho pulled the toy back slightly, letting the vibrations fade as you came down from the peak.

“Breathe,” Yunho said, his tone gentle but steady as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip.

Mingi pressed a final kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, his grin smug but affectionate. “Told you we’d make it good,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You managed a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly. “You weren’t kidding,” you said, your voice breathless but full of satisfaction.

Yunho leaned over to untie the belt from your wrists, his touch careful as he massaged the faint marks left behind. “Next time,” he said with a smirk, “maybe we’ll let you be in charge.”

Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “If she can still move after this,” he joked, his voice light.

—

The room was warm, the three of you still catching your breath as the quiet tension settled. Mingi stirred first again, his sex drive being overly high when he’s drunk, sitting up with a groan, his hand raking through his messy hair as his gaze locked onto you. His eyes were dark and needy, roaming over you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice shaky but insistent. “Can I ask you something? Please.”

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression as your heart raced. “Of course,” you replied softly.

He leaned closer, his hands finding your thighs and gripping them firmly, his touch hot and possessive. “I—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “I want you. Both of us. Together. I’ve been wanting this for so fucking long.” His hands slid up slightly, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Please tell me I can have you. I won’t stop thinking about it until I hear you say it.”

Before you could answer, Yunho let out a low chuckle, his smirk teasing but edged with something darker. “Mingi, come on,” he said, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “Give her a second to breathe, man. You’re drunk. Don’t push her.” His eyes flickered to you, meeting your gaze as he softened slightly, though his intentions were clear.

Mingi’s jaw tightened, but there was a flash of something softer in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “I just… I need to know,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Please, I want this so badly.”

You felt your heart flutter at the desperation in his voice. You reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning closer. “I do,” you said, your voice steady, yet filled with longing. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want both of you.”

Mingi’s face softened, the tension easing from his body as he let out a deep, relieved breath. “I’ve wanted this for damn long…,” he repeated, his voice raw with need.

Yunho leaned back slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of your body before returning to Mingi. “You’ve been waiting forever, huh?” he teased, the playful edge in his voice not hiding the hunger in his gaze. “Seems like it’s time we make this happen then.”

Without another word, Yunho’s hands slid under your arms, pulling you into his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. His grip on your hips was firm as he steadied you against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone softer than before but still filled with something deeper. “Relax, sweetheart.”

Behind you, Mingi’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his touch needy and urgent. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck as his hands slid lower. “How long I’ve wanted to make you ours.”

Yunho chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing as he pressed his lips to your temple. “She knows now,” he said, though the underlying hunger in his tone made it clear that he wasn’t backing down.

“She’s ours now,” Mingi growled, his fingers gripping your hips possessively.

Yunho’s fingers tightened on your hips as his gaze turned darker, more focused. “Ours, huh?” he muttered, the teasing gone from his voice now. “Then let’s see if she can handle both of us.”

Yunho, the ever composed one even if he drank as much as Mingi, lifted you up slowly and lowered you even slower on his cock, letting you adjust to his huge size. Mingi did the same but more urgently, he got closer to you, his hands roaming on your body as they settled on your waist and lowered your ass on his cock. You moaned softly at the sensation of being so stretched out, arching your back against Mingi.

“Damn she's taking us good…” Yunho groaned, starting to thrust up and down slowly. Mingi did the same, trying to be in sync with Yunho as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his vocal self never faltering as he whined and groaned out with every thrust of his. Your hands were straddling Yunho's shoulders, steadying yourself while bouncing up and down on both men. It felt so good, so full and so hot.. to be fucked by both. The alcohol in your bloodstream only made it even better. You were not drunk, no… tipsy? Yes. But it only made it better.. the fact that your words were loosened and actions bolder meant everything to you as you've been trying to make a move on them since forever.

Though, Mingi… felt exactly the same. Only that he was gone for, needy and practically begging for you to move more above him.

“P-please, y/n..” he whined in your ear, turning you in even more.

Yunho looked at Mingi and giggled, his words eliciting, “just do whatever, she's all in for it.. just look at her, taking us so damn good. Tell me sweetie, do you want us to fill you both? Hm?” he said as one of his hands rode up your body and stopped on your breast, playing with your nipple.

“Ah, Y-yunho!” you whimpered out when he pinched it.

“Say it, sweetie. I need to know..”

“Y-yes… for fucks sake, please..” you pleaded, both men pounding into you more fiercely when hearing your words.

“Mhm, that's more like it…” and his thrusts started getting deeper, sloppier and wilder.

Both men's hands gripped your waist and thighs down, pushing you on their cocks only to make you take them deeper.

Within a few thrust Mingi couldn't help himself anymore and came, filling you up with his huge load of cum. He's followed by you, your inner walls clenching harshly on Yunho's cock, soft cries and moans escaping your rapidly rising chest.

His eyes widened in surprise and he came, basically being rushed to by your needy cunt. He fucked you thru your and his orgasm as Mingi had done the same and they slowly rode their highs, slowing down and eventually lifting you up and laying you on the ruined bedsheets.

“Wow… that was..” Yunho started, but you continued.

“Fucking hot.” you chuckled out, your legs trembling and head dizzy from all the action. Both men laid on each of your side and caught their breaths.

“We shoulda done this sooner.. I never thought it woulda been this amazing.” Mingi said, his words slurred.

“Well.. That was a damn Happy New Year for me.. for us” you said and the two men laughed softly, embracing you in a warm hug.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

[stervrucht]

“Just a second,” Eddie calls from halfway beneath his bed.

Steve taps his foot as he looks around Eddie’s room. It’s messy and there’s a lot of stuff. His eyes drift around, taking it in. There is a poster with ‘Corroded Coffin’ on it in scrawled graffiti and from what Steve can see, Eddie has at least two guitars. 

On Eddie’s desk, he spots a skull — some sort of animal, but Steve has no idea what.

Steve hears Eddie groan as he tries to move back from under the bed.   

“You need any help there, Munson?”

“Nah, I got it.” Eddie turns with some difficulty and then he’s out from under the bed, sprawled halfway across the floor. He sticks up his hand and holds out a book to Steve.

“There you go.”

“Eh, thanks.” Steve flips the book over in his hand and it’s just stupid D&D stuff. “Dustin better be grateful.”

“Is he ever?” Eddie responds while he works himself in a sitting position. There is dust in his hair and his shirt is risen to expose half his chest. 

“You got a point there.” Steve lets out an unamused laugh.

When Eddie finally stands, he readjusts his shirt and quickly combs his hair. Dust still clings to his dark curls.

Steve’s eyes fall on the skull again and from his periphery he sees Eddie follow his gaze.

“You looking at the skull?”

Steve hums in response.

“It’s a fox. Pretty sick, huh? I found it myself.” Eddie’s eyes find his and he looks oddly proud.

“Pretty cool,” Steve echoes. “How do you know it’s a fox anyway?”

“Oh, just you wait.” Eddie leans over, reaching for the skull and holding it up to Steve.

“Skull size, teeth, and see these babies—” Eddie points at the eyesockets. “They’re huge.”

“Aren’t fox heads larger?” 

“All muscle and fur.”

Muscles and fur. 

Suddenly Steve comes to the horrifying existential realization that humans are also just bone and muscle and skin. He looks over at Eddie, studies his face, and suddenly it’s like he has never seen him before.

The way skin pulls over muscle, the lines around his mouth as he smiles. And how smiling pulls Eddie’s jaw taut, appearing more angular than when it’s relaxed.

“You okay, Harrington? Guess skulls are a bit morbid, huh? I sometimes forget how normal people think.” Eddie laughs sheepishly and puts the skull away again. 

When Eddie looks back, Steve is still staring. 

The skin over collarbones is thin with little muscle. 

He looks down at Eddie’s hands which have grown nervous under Steve’s eyes. 

Silver rings, skin, muscle, bone. 

Without thinking, Steve reaches out. He holds Eddie’s hand, runs his fingers over Eddie’s. 

Soft warm skin. 

“Eh…Steve?”

Steve looks up and the urge to touch is overwhelming. He raises his hands and touches Eddie’s cheeks with curious fingers.

The skin is more coarse here — marked by a five-o-clock shadow — but it’s also warmer.

“What are you—”  

Eddie stops talking when Steve runs a finger over his lips, pulling them open, just a little. 

They’re different from regular skin; warmer and wetter. 

And then Steve has no idea what he’s doing, but he moves forward and brushes his own lips over Eddie’s. Under his fingers, Steve can feel the muscles in Eddie’s jaw grow taut. 

That piques his interest. 

He slides his hand from Eddie’s jaw to his nape. From there he can feel the muscles in the jaw, thin over bone; those in his neck, thick and strong. 

He runs his tongue across Eddie’s lower lip and he feels Eddie’s lips part, his body growing soft under his actions. Eddie’s lips are moving, tentative and testing against Steve’s. 

There is no bone there.

He licks into Eddie’s mouth, feels the smooth skin under his tongue; runs his tongue over Eddie’s teeth and takes in the contrast.

Steve pulls back, his hand growing slack against Eddie’s neck as he realises he just let himself go.

Eddie stares at him with dazed eyes.

“I didn’t know skulls did it for you, Harrington.”

[studioeisa]

the way of the work husband 📋 chan x reader.

going back to work after the holidays sucks, but at least you've got your 'work husband' lee chan to get you through it.

★ office worker!chan x f!reader. ★ word count: 1.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: office, alternate universe: co-workers, fluff/romance. vernon is a menace (affectionately). not proofread. ★ footnotes: been itching to write chan lately and this was the result. dedicating this to my favorite corporate girlie!dinonara @chanranghaeys, who i have been threatening a chan fic with for a little over a week now ෆ sana all may lee chan sa office. 😔 + a special shoutout to @diamonddaze01 for educating me on the how work spouses operate. 🙏

“Is Lee Chan, like, your work husband or something?” 

The look on Vernon’s face is perfectly innocent, but his arched eyebrow gives some indication of just how amused he is. You shoot him a scathing glare before turning back to your work-sanctioned laptop. 

You don’t answer Vernon’s question. Not at first, anyway. Instead, you opt to wryly ask, “Why do you always have to use his full government name whenever you’re talking about him?” 

“Eh. Just ‘Chan’ is too short,” Vernon responds noncommittally. He should be focusing on the grant that he has to write, but he seems intent on quizzing you on your relationship with the company’s newest program assistant. 

Vernon leans a little further into his computer chair. He’s always been a pretty amicable seatmate; he just liked to poke the bear every so often. 

“So?” he prompts. “Are you and Lee Chan… you know.” 

When Vernon makes a vague, crude gesture with his hands, you groan out loud. “Don’t make it weird,” you snap. “And no. Chan and I are just friends, asswipe.”

“But you guys display peak work spouse behavior.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be grant writing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

Vernon’s rebuttal has you glancing at the digital clock on your desk. Shit. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you say as you grab your wallet and get to your feet. You hate to admit it, but Vernon is right. You’ve started dedicating your fifteen-minute afternoon breaks to cafeteria trips with Chan. 

All in the name of friendship, you insist.

“‘Course it doesn’t,” Vernon sing-songs. Just when you think he’s done, he throws in a final jab. 

“I’ll have an itemized list of my observations,” he calls after your retreating back. “Just you wait!” 

You don’t turn around to dignify Vernon’s taunt with a response. Instead, you flip him off over your shoulder as you contemplate what coffee to get with Chan today.

Rarely are you late to work. Some mornings are just harrowing, littered with minor inconveniences like your alarm not going off or the bus making one too many stops. 

When you finally make it to the office, you can already imagine the CEO’s backhand comment about punctuality. Something like ‘early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable,’ probably. 

That’s why you feel an immense pang of relief when you notice a vacant seat near the back of the room, one that you undoubtedly know is yours. 

You make your way to the chair as discreetly as you can. The bag atop it is taken off the moment that you arrive, and you flash an appreciative grin at the one who made it possible. 

Chan— who is already shifting his bag onto his lap— gives you an exaggerated wink in return. 

You mouth a wordless ‘thank you’ at him. He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

The meeting grabs your attention soon enough, but not before you notice Vernon inconspicuously typing something into his phone. 

☑ You always sit next to each other at meetings

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Hm?” 

“Hellooo! Pay attention to me!” 

There’s a guilty expression on your face as you finally glance up at Seungkwan. “Sorry,” you say meekly. “What were you asking?” 

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. 

Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

“Yah,” you begin to protest, ready to justify the way you’ve only been half-present throughout your entire lunch break. 

Your attempt falls flat when your phone pings, and the screen lights up. 

One (1) new text from Channie. 🦖LOLOL I have the perfect reel for this!! Wait a minute~~ 💖💙

Seungkwan scoffs. Vernon snickers. 

Your eye twitches, and you shoot back a text underneath the table in a bid to avoid your friends’ teasing. 

☑ You message each other all day long

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that. 

Despite the fact that there’s a whole brainstorming session going on— preparation for the company’s next fundraising event— the two of you can’t help your silent communication. 

Especially when Soonyoung starts running his mouth about the fundraiser potentially being tiger-themed. 

One glance is all it takes. Chan’s lips are drawn into a thin line, and you know he’s also trying his darndest not to laugh. It’s a mammoth effort to hold back yourself, but you manage— not wanting to suffer from your eccentric boss’ line of questioning. 

It’s all free game once the session ends, though. 

You make a beeline for Chan. He takes one look at your quirked lip before jerking his head towards the door, urging the two of you to have this discussion somewhere you won’t be lynched.

Still, you and Chan can barely resist your peals of laughter as you leave the meeting room with your heads bowed together. Vernon watches with bemusement as the two of you trade incoherent mumblings about Tigger and Pompompurin. 

Not that Vernon has any idea what those have to do with anything. 

☑ You exchange knowing glances from across the room ☑ You share inside jokes about work and life

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” 

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

A corner of Vernon’s lip twitches upward. Aha. 

Chan seems to pick up on Vernon’s smug silence. The younger boy’s head snaps up, his expression quickly becoming guarded. “Not my work wife,” Chan sputters. “Just— I knew where she was, okay?” 

“Riiight.” 

There’s a redness in the tips of Chan’s ears as he goes back to the Google Doc he’d been slaving away on. Vernon doesn’t say anything more, but he does feign like he’s texting someone instead of adding to his ever-growing list.

☑ Your other colleagues wonder where the other’s at when you’re not together

It’s a bit of an epilogue in its own right, how Chan is the one to know why you’re out for the morning.

The CEO had asked it mostly as a rhetorical question— has anyone seen her?— but Chan’s easy answer has the meeting coming to a stuttering halt. 

“She got stuck at her dentist’s appointment,” he says. 

Several pairs of eyes turn to Chan. The look on his face is comically caught.

He fumbles for his phone and waves it around awkwardly. “We were texting,” he adds hastily. “That’s why I know.” 

How that was supposed to help Chan’s case, Vernon has no idea. 

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing. 

Chan manages a mumbled “Will do.” 

The meeting pushes through. Vernon watches Chan from the corner of his eye. Aside from looking absolutely mortified, there’s just a bit of dullness to the latter’s demeanor. A slower uptake, a dimmer grin. 

Gee, Vernon muses as he types away on his laptop. Wonder why. 

☑ You’re kind of bummed when they’re out of office ☑ You cover for each other when one is MIA

Vernon’s running list is a fun little gig, but it all comes to head on the evening of the company’s monthly night out.

The table at the speakeasy is full of boisterous laughter and greasy finger food. Everyone’s in high spirits for the upcoming weekend, and Vernon has to hold back on teasing those who he thinks are having just a little too much fun. 

You and Chan have spent much of the evening acting like you’re in your own world. Sure, you’re not touching each other— this is technically a work event, after all— but you’ve shared laughter and whispers throughout the night that nobody else is privy to. 

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

It’s obvious to anybody with two eyes that you two are fond of each other. That much is certain.

That’s what gives Vernon the boost of confidence to play wingman by the end of the night. 

“You know,” he says coolly as your group spills out onto the sidewalk. “I think the two of you live in the same neighborhood.” 

What Vernon is scheming is plain as day to you. You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s undeterred. He only smiles at you and Chan like the menace that he is. 

Chan, for his part, raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. He glances at you with a quizzical expression. 

“You’ve never mentioned that.” He raises his hand to his chest, as if feigning hurt at being kept in the dark. 

A snort of laughter escapes you. “Didn’t feel like it was particularly important information,” you say dryly. 

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two. “‘Cause that means we can carpool together, or, like, y’know—” 

Vernon interrupts with a sage, “You can probably book the same cab for tonight, actually. Make it a double stop.” 

Chan’s face lights up. “Great idea, man!” 

Before you can protest, Chan is already whipping out his phone to pull up his ride-hailing app. This is not a battle that you’re going to win. 

All the while, Vernon grins triumphantly. 

☑ You go home together after happy hour 

“Can we—” 

“Shhh. No, not yet.” 

“But nobody’s looking!”

“Wait until we’ve rounded the corner, idiot—” 

And so he does. 

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.” 

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The feeling is mutual, though, so you reach out to rest your hand on his knee.

“Commendable self-control tonight,” you note. “All the whispering was a little too obvious, though.” 

Chan huffs in protest, but the sound loses its edge as he cuddles up to you in the back of the cab. “No one suspects us. It’s just Vernon,” he complains. 

“And Seungkwan,” you say. “And Jeonghan, and Minghao, and Wonwoo—” 

Your boyfriend gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” His hand rests on top of yours, just barely resisting the urge to intertwine your fingers. “They don’t know a thing about us, sweets.” 

The smile threatening to fill your face finally breaks. When you laugh, your shoulders shake against Chan’s body. You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy. 

“Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

[xinganhao]

♍️ svt reacts to your interest in astrology.

@flipflopscrop -> "what do you think of ot13 reacting to readers’ interest in astrology?"

✩ astrology and horoscopes, mostly crack/humor, cussing and good-natured bickering. short headcanons under the cut.

♍️ headcanons .ᐟ

— lives for it ✩ seungcheol, soonyoung, seokmin, chan.

to absolutely no one's surprise, seokmin is the most likely to revel in astrology. he likes the little daily horoscopes and reminders that he feels are 'curated' to him. you may have to warn him every so often that these are mere suggestions, and not in fact something that should be taken to heart. on the flipside, chan's interest in astrology may come as a bit of a surprise! really, though, he seems to just enjoy the memes attached to his sign. expect to be on the receiving end of a lot of aquarius-related jokes or jabs. seungcheol is 100% the type to say "it's because i'm a leo" without really understanding what being a leo entails. he feels like it excuses a lot of his behavior, so he'll probably lean into it for the hell of it. soonyoung is similar, though he takes it more to the extremes. he might wreak havoc and then proceed to justify it by reasoning that he's a gemini.

— begrudging acceptance ✩ jeonghan, mingyu, seungkwan.

the vibes in this line is very "what the hell, sure." mingyu is admittedly bordering on 'lives for it' and 'general confusion', which just means there are times where he might deign to act on his horoscope of the day. as it is, though, he doesn't really understand what being an aries means in the grand scheme of things. jeonghan openly judges you for this, but he also knows there's no stopping you. he'll listen to his horoscope with mild interest; he's not about to do anything with it, and he may even make some snide comments here and there about you being gullible. seungkwan will subscribe to astrology when it benefits him. is his horoscope good for the week? alright, then he's happy to be a capricorn! is mercury in retrograde? eh, astrology doesn't mean that much, anyway.

— general confusion ✩ joshua, junhui, jihoon.

these boys have no idea what you're talking about. jihoon is the most confused out of everyone, admittedly, because what does being a sagittarius have to do with anything? he no longer tries to hide the fact that he's completely clued out on anything astrology-related, though he'll let you say anything if it makes you happy. joshua is confused but also pleasantly surprised every time you relate his behavior to being a capricorn. he'll look things up as necessary and debunk them, even, if he thinks it's not relevant. junhui gets frustrated, more often than not, and so you can expect some overreactions when you clock him for being a gemini. he will want in-depth reads as to how you related his actions to his sign; be warned, he'll be rolling his eyes and scoffing quite a bit.

— vehement denial of anything & everything astrology ✩ wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

this feels relatively self-explanatory. these three aren't accepting or confused. they are bona fide disbelievers and haters of astrology, and any/all mentions of it will only serve to irk them. wonwoo? narrowing his eyes at you, as if anticipating that you'll chalk up his behavior to being a cancer. ready with a quip and a groan for when, inevitably, you fall right into the stereotype. minghao? launching into a whole tirade about the death of free thinking. his side eye is absolutely lethal as he mumbles about the cons of astrology. and vernon? he hates being perceived, but he hates it even more when he's lumped in with a whole group of people solely because of his sign. expect his grumblings of "be for fucking real" as he mopes about your predictions.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Camden’s sin”

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

part 2 here part 3 here Masterlist here

Summary: You were a Shelby working in your family’s business. You tried to convince yourself that it was just that, business. But Alfie Solomons wasn’t just business, not when he had you bent over his desk.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: intense smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, filthy language, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, creampie, reader is Tommy Shelby’s sister.

A/N: Again, english is not my first language, so sorry if any mistakes throw you off. I’m planing to do several more parts of this (please tell me if you have any request, this is my second time writing).

Your brother trusted you. For some reason, you were good with numbers—that was a fact. And you were good with people, probably because they all saw you as the innocent and youngest Shelby sister, but you were smarter than any man in the room. They underestimated you. That’s why you got sent to Camden Town almost every week. That, and because Alfie Solomons was utterly obsessed with you. Tommy found it convenient, really, since it always gave you the upper hand in every deal. Alfie simply couldn’t resist you.

You never thought anything of it. Yes, Alfie flirted with you—crude and blunt, filthy sometimes—but you were sure of his intentions. Just a game to piss your brother off. So you dismissed his banter.

The morning air was thick in Camden. It always was. You walked through the bakery like you owned the place, weaving through the towering barrels and busy working men until you reached his office. You didn’t even get a chance to knock. His voice came through the door, rough and immediate.

“Get in.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air reeked of rum and cigars. He was there, of course—seated at his desk, leaning back in the chair. Sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, tattooed forearms. His beard was thick and wild as ever.

“Well, bloody hell. The Shelbys sent me an angel today, eh?”

“You knew it was me coming, Alfie.”

“That I did. Every week, like a sharp clock, you are,” he grinned. “Lookin’ like fuckin’ sin, you do.”

You sighed. You knew all his lines by now. He’d used them a thousand times already.

“Let’s talk business, yeah?”

“What? No hello? No how’ve you been, Alfie? No I’ve missed seeing your face?”

He twitched his jaw when you stayed silent, completely ignoring his advances once again.

You tried your best to talk numbers, to finalize the new distribution routes. But it was almost impossible with the way his eyes were trailing over your body—lazy, deliberate, like he was undressing you with every glance.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” You were pissed now.

“Well, forgive me, yeah? It’s fuckin’ hard to focus when you’re lookin’ like that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, smirking. “You do it on purpose, you do. That dress, that mouth painted red like bloody temptation itself.”

“This isn’t a bloody game, Alfie.” You warned him, trying to stay cool and composed—even while he was practically eye-fucking you across the desk.

“Course it’s not a fuckin’ game,” he said, voice low. “I want you. And yeah, yeah, before you say it again—I know you’re Tommy’s sister. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are, right?”

“You’re crossing the line. Stop it.” You were trying hard not to flinch, not to blush. Trying to seem unimpressed.

“Oh, am I crossing the line?” His eyes dropped to your legs. “I’ll stop it when you stop sittin’ there with those… those fuckin’ legs crossed tighter than a nun. Pressing your thighs together since the moment you got here. Probably the same way you press them every night thinkin’ of my mouth.”

He smirked, proud of the reaction he managed to pull from you.

He had you now. He bloody well did. And it pissed you off that he was so damn observant, that he noticed everything.

“Fuck you.”

“God, please.”

Your cheeks burned—with anger, yes, but with something deeper than that. Something dangerous. Something like desire.

“You’ve mistaken my tolerance for interest, Alfie. If you want to keep doing business with the Shelbys, then you fucking behave,” you hissed.

“Business?” he scoffed. “Treacle, the only thing I’m gettin’ from business with the Shelbys is fuckin’ blue balls. Havin’ to stare at you every fuckin’ week without being able to touch you the way I want.”

“Are you done? Done saying all the… filth that’s inside your mind? You’re a pig.”

“Done? I’m nowhere near done.” He leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Next time you come here, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you—page by page—like a fuckin’ scripture.”

You stood up, turned away without another word, and walked straight out of his office. Just like that. Gone. Leaving Alfie cursing under his breath.

⸻

The truth is, you should’ve told Tommy. Should’ve told him that Alfie crossed a line, so he’d send someone else. But you didn’t.

No matter how hard you tried to stay away from that man, there was an invisible string pulling you toward him.

You wore black that day. High-necked. Buttoned all the way up. But when you walked into Alfie’s office, the first thing you saw was him—waiting for you with a little old leather notebook in his hands.

He didn’t say hello. Didn’t greet you like most days. He just opened the notebook and looked at you.

“I made you a promise, right? And I’m a man of my word.” He tapped the cover with a grin. “Fuckin’ poetry I wrote for you.”

“You think I came here to hear your filth?” you said, sitting across from him, arms and legs crossed.

He ignored you completely. Cleared his throat. Adjusted his glasses. And began to read from the first page.

“You come here all proper, all buttoned up, pretendin’ to be holy. But I’d get you against my desk anyway, with my hand under your tight little skirt, as you moan my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

He turned the page.

“You’d tell me to fuck off—’cause you love to pretend you don’t want me. But when I feel your thighs squeeze around my fingers, I know it’s all lies.”

Another page turned.

“I’d put my mouth between your legs, eat you until you can’t remember your fuckin’ name. Make you scream so loud your brother in Small Heath would hear you.”

“And I’d fuck you from behind, right on this desk we’ve signed a hundred papers on. You’d beg me not to stop. In fact, you’d beg me to go harder, ’cause—”

“Stop.” You cut him off. Your voice soft, but sharp.

You felt the heat pooling low in your stomach. Felt your undergarments dampen. But you didn’t show it. You stood up, hands trembling, legs unsteady.

“You think you’re clever? Think I’ll melt because you wrote all your filth in a book like some fucked-up priest?”

He stood too, walking around the desk toward you with slow, measured steps. “Maybe. Tell me—is it workin’?”

“You should be locked up.” You should’ve slapped him. Should’ve run. But you didn’t. You stayed. You listened to every word.

“Maybe,” he whispered, closing in. “But I’d find a way out. Just to find you.”

He was towering over you now. So close you could smell him—cigars and rum and sin.

“I should take what I want right now,” he murmured, voice rough. “Should bend you over my desk and do every fuckin’ thing I wrote in that notebook. Everything you’ve been denyin’ me.”

Your knees buckled. Your breath hitched.

“But I won’t, treacle. And you wanna know why?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Because when I do—yeah?—you won’t be walkin’ straight for a fuckin’ week. And it’s gonna be your choice.”

“My choice?” you whispered, your voice barely there, feeling his eyes devour you.

“Yours. You’ll come back here tomorrow. Not for business. Not like a Shelby. You come back for me.”

Somehow, your legs carried you out of his office. Out of the distillery. Back to the car waiting for you outside.

⸻

The moment you stepped inside Alfie’s distillery the next day, you knew it—this would be the last time you ever walked out of here untouched.

You made your way into his office, and like always, he was already expecting you. Leaning back against his desk, arms folded, eyes on you like he’d been waiting all fucking day. He looked as irresistible as ever.

“You’re late,” he said.

You checked your watch. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re about twenty fucking meetings late for what I really want.” His voice was low, husky. “Lock the door.”

You obeyed without thinking. As you stepped closer, his thumb grazed your throat—rough, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle.

“You want to hear it again? Page by page? ’Cause I’ve written a thousand more.”

“No,” you breathed, “I want you to show me.”

He groaned—and that was it. Restraint fully vanished. He grabbed you and crushed his mouth against yours, desperate, hungry, all tongue and teeth as he yanked your head back and devoured you like a man starving for something only you could give, with the need to own you.

You moaned when he shoved you against the desk, one hand on your throat—holding, not squeezing—while the other dragged your dress up.

No knickers. He swore.

“Fucking hell… You woman… you’re trying to kill me, are you?”

Before you could reply, his hand was already between your thighs, feeling the heat, the wetness.

“Oh, you’re so ready for me, ain’t you? Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He growled—and then dropped to his knees, right there on his office floor. Because there was only one reason Alfie Solomons got on his knees, and that was to eat cunt.

“Alfie—” you began.

“Shut up. Let me read my scripture,” he rasped. Then his mouth was on you—no patience, no mercy.

His thick beard scratched the inside of your thighs, but all you could feel was the way his tongue worked you open. Lazy circles over your clit turned into relentless strokes as he devoured you like you were his first hot meal after the war.

He pulled back for a second, just to look at you.

“Tastes fucking divine.” He gave one long, filthy lick. “Like fucking salvation.”

“Oh God—God—” you whimpered.

“No, treacle, the Lord’s got nothing to do with it. This is all me. So say my fucking name.”

“Alfie… Oh, Alfie…” you moaned, hands buried in his hair, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. He latched on your cunt harder, tongue ruthless going through your slick folds, sucking your clit in the right way. fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from flying apart.

And then—you broke. You came in seconds. Hard. Loud. Messy. Your whole body shook, and you would’ve collapsed on the floor if it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up.

He stood, his beard glistening, soaked in your fluids. Eyes dark as the night, wild. He didn’t wait a second—his hands were already unbuckling his belt.

“You ready for page two?” he growled. “’Cause I’m still fuckin’ hard. And tired of waiting.”

You nodded, It was all you could do, you were speechless, breathless.

He grabbed your body forcefully, turned you around, and bent you over his desk, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, pinning you down like he’d envisioned a thousand times.

He spit into his hand, stroked himself rough and fast, like the world was about to end. And then—

He slammed into you.

You screamed his name, gripping the desk so hard your knuckles went white. He was huge, and if that wasn’t enough, he was brutal with his unforgiving thrusts that had you seeing stars and the whole fucking galaxy.

He pounded into you so hard you didn’t know if he loved you or hated you, hands bruising your hips, balls slamming against your ass over and over.

“Fuck—fucking—” he choked out, and you realized that this was the first time you’ve ever seen Alfie Solomons struggle to find words. “You trying to kill me? Squeezing my cock like that with this tight little cunt.” He smacked your ass, hard.

All you could do was whimper, pathetic little whimpers that came out of your mouth as he continued to dive into you.

The room was full of it—all of it—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the desk under your body, your muffled cries, his snarling breath mixed with all the filthy words that came out of his mouth.

“Custom-fucking-made for my cock, you were.”

“You feel so good… so wet and hot and tight for me.”

“Look at you, listen to you—moaning like a fucking whore for me.”

He was feral for you. He had turned into a beast like never before. Because even if he had his fair share of women in the past, no woman had ever made him feel like this, not a single one of them had ever felt as good as you did right now, It was all he had ever dreamed of, and more.

And you—you—were taking it, it was all you could do, cause you were built for this. No one ever fucked you like a real man should, no, that was something only Alfie could.

That sharp sting built in your belly and then it snapped—and you came again, harder this time, clenching so tight around his cock he cursed in Yiddish. You didn’t know what he said, but the way he said it made your whole body throb.

“I’m gonna fill you up… so bad it’s gonna fucking drip out of that pretty pussy all over your thighs yeah? You want that?”

“Yes… please, Alfie… fill me up.”

He pulled your hair back, arched your back against his chest, and fucked into you harder. Once. Twice. The third thrust—he buried himself deeper and he came with a guttural growl, spilling himself inside you as he moaned your name into your shoulder.

He stayed there inside you, holding you close, his lips at your throat, whispering things that made you melt, and kissing your shoulder softly, as if trying to comfort after he was the one to wreck you

When he finally pulled out, you felt it—his cum, mixed with your juices, dripping down your thighs. He shoved it all back inside with two fingers, stuffing you full of him again.

“Tell me you’ll come back next week, yeah?” His voice was oddly soft now.

You barely managed a whisper. “Try not to go mad until you see me again.”

He smiled against your skin. “Now that, treacle… that’s a promise I can’t make.”

Part 2 here

[gemjewlerybox]

♡ Go Go Magical Girl! ♡

chapter 1

There’s a new app on your phone

There were already a lot of apps on your phone, gaming, social media, tutoring apps, and you were prone to still having apps on there you forgot you had. You wouldn’t have noticed it really, if it wasn’t smack right in the middle of the screen

You may be messy but at least it was organized, kinda. 

You were in the middle of homework, struggling with math as usual. What's different? Just mind numbing stress. 

What took you out was hearing a bell sound. 

You paused for a moment, then continued back to your work. So maybe hours of stress isn’t the greatest. Maybe you should take a break a small break, you were hungry after all- 

Ding

There it was again. You look around the room for the sound, did you have a wind chime somewhere? Just swaying in a enclosed space- 

Your eyes did a quick sweep of your desk, and just for a split second you saw the screen of your phone shut off. 

Weird, you weren’t on it for a good while, why would it be on?

You grabbed it and it flashed back the lockscreen, the familiar faces of an older woman and smaller child popped up as the background. What wasn’t familiar was two notifications from an app you didn’t know of.

Child born from the pinkest of clouds, welcome to your life! 

….huh?

What app did you download recently? You can’t even remember- 

Hey, are you there? There’s people to save!

The second notification displayed, leaving you even more confused. Okay what cheaply made microtransaction ridden app did you download?

You opened your phone intended to dig through all of your apps to see who the imposter was, but instead you were greeted by it smack on your homescreen. 

It was a pale pink app, with a small heart in a darker shade in the middle of the icon. It was a simple looking app, one that you still don’t recognize. 

Eh, it didn’t really matter too much right now. Someone from school must have mentioned it when you were around and you downloaded it and forgot. You're too busy right now for an app to be sending notifications, so you decided to go and turn them off. 

Its just, when you tapped on the app, it didn’t open. 

Okay, maybe it was a mistap- nope it didn’t open again. After a good while of rapid tapping and rapidly growing annoyance, the app still didn’t open. 

You huffed a little, and then remembered you could totally turn off notifications via the settings app. You swiped around a bit and opened the settings app and scrolled more to locate and access the app itself- 

You can’t find it

You scrolled top to bottom, back and forth, the apps category. Hell you even went through other settings to see anything related to the mysterious app. Nothing 

…oh my god did you download spyware???

Panic started to spread through you. Your phone literally had access to everything about you, your name, your emails and passwords and banking information- oh god are you on the manor’s wifi?? CAN A VIRUS SPREAD VIA WIFI????

You turned your phone off and threw it on your bed. After a brief moment of spiraling about how you just gave some hacker the Wayne’s manor personal information on a silver dish, you grabbed your computer to quickly look up how to stop a virus attack before hearing a knock at the door.

You heard the formal title of your name after it, Alfred. You look at the clock on your wall, it is dinner time. You felt a grimace form on your face. 

You did not want to go down to that dining table. 

“Sorry Alfred” you called out from inside your room,”I think i’m just going to skip tonight’s dinner-”

“Tonight is the monthly dinner, miss. Everyone is required to attend.”

Fuck- you really don’t want to go down there now. Just to be ignored again?

“I’m…just not feeling so good right now.” you lied, well kinda “It’s probably from school stress.

Plus like, it's not like my presence is…needed y'know?”

You winced a little from that last part. But honestly you can’t deal with the uncomfortable, unwanting, atmosphere you’ll be prone to at that table. 

You couldn’t hear anything from the other side of the bedroom door, but you looked down and still saw a shadow showing from the gap of the door to the floor. He’s always been persistent with rules- 

“But really I don’t think my stomach can handle anything, so I’ll just be there pushing food around. I don't want to waste any food!” good this was such an awful lie

“Well then when you feel a bit better, be sure to come down. I’ll wrap a plate for you, please be sure to eat before retiring for the night.” A lie he brought

“Ahh thank you!” for not dragging you down, “And I’ll be sure to eat something before bed!”

“Well then, have a good night, and please don’t stay up too long” Alfred said before you could hear the footsteps of his polished shoes grow dimmer and dimmer. You felt the coils in your body release as you let out a sigh before collapsing on your bed. 

It’s so hard talking to these people in this manor, even Alfred. It seems like it hasn’t gotten any better since when you first came here

….you didn’t want to think about that time. 

Instead, you thought about your phone and potential malware that’s on it. 

You slowly went and grabbed your phone and said a little prayer before turning it back on. No flashing lights, pops ups, or random numbers messaging you your location, and nobody banging on your door. That should be a good sign…right?

…you quickly checked to see if you were on the manor’s wifi. Thankfully you weren’t, you sighed out in relief. The amount of stress you put yourself through is going to kill you one day, you can swear it sometimes. 

Clicking on the pink app again, and again it didn’t open. You laid on your back with your phone up in the air by your raised, just staring hard at it. As hard as you thought, you can’t even think of an app that even looks like it, nor any that won’t even let you access the thing. 

A new notification popped up on your screen, which scared you just enough to where you dropped the phone square on your face. Mid forehead rub, you read the notification, from your messaging app?

V- Hey, me and a few friends are going to the arcade now that its reopen. If you wannnnttt you can totally come with us! 

You looked at the message before switching your phone off again. Maybe you should bathe before continuing to your work. That sounds nice right now. 

The car ride was, as always, unbearable. Nothing has even been said since you entered the limo yet you can feel the sheer animosity from Damien across the car. 

You just sighed silently to yourself, you ran out of the energy to deal with him a long time ago. 

You spent the rest of the previous night in an endless battle of math homework, social anxiety, and doom thinking inside your room. The night ended with you crashing on your bed in defeat, completely forgetting to go down to the kitchen to eat dinner…your stomach sure didn’t forget. 

As Alfred continued to drive you both to school, you retrieved your phone from your uniform pocket. Fingers faster than your stomach rumbling, you open the chat messages between you and a classmate, Viviane, to see if she had anything on her person for you to munch on. 

You stopped when you saw the leftover message from last night. 

Thank god you turned off read notifications from your chats, you can just feel your phone going repeatedly from Viv seeing the unanswered read notifications. 

….Maybe it was better to wait to ask her when you get there. 

Clicking off the messaging app, your eyes were greeted with the cursed app. It was the first thing that you locked in on as you opened your phone in the morning, and after spending the entire morning getting ready and scouring the internet for any pink, heart, pink heart or whatever apps that ever existed. Nothing 

And, of course, when you clicked on the icon, it didn’t open. 

“What the fuck” you sighed out, what you thought was quietly

It wasn’t, you can eye on you from the opposite side of the car. 

“Where were you last night?”

“Hmm?” was all that was left from you as you turned towards your younger brother. It wasn’t often now that the two of you talked, thanks to you deflecting any attempts of his verbal abuse. You still gave polite, short answers and made quick getaways from conversations.

Lucky he seems too busy in recent months to follow and continue with the stream of taunts and venom, but there are times, like car rides to school, where you two have to be in the same space. 

 “Last night was a mandatory dinner and activities, yet you were nowhere to be seen.” 

“I…” Damien eyes bore into yours, one of intimidation, as if to convey his importance to you. His ego is fit for the blood son of a major billionaire such as Bruce, your collective father.

It kinda does make sense for him to think of himself highly, still you can’t help but feel exhausted with whatever power struggle he has had with you since you arrived at the manor. 

“ I just had work to do.” is all you said, simple. What's the point of getting into the specifics when he’s just looking for a reason why you're in the wrong and how you're a failure. 

Though, with the way he rolled his eyes and snorted came out, your sure that wasn’t a good enough answer for him

“Can’t do your duties as a family member because you can’t do simple schoolwork? It amaze me on how you can be worse” 

You can just feel yourself tuning him out, it was too early in the morning for him to start this with you and expect you to pay attention. You turned your attention instead back to your phone, scrolling through your social media for a distraction. Seems like there's a new arcade? 

You wanted to learn more, but Damien had other plans since in a blink your phone was no longer in your hands. 

“Wha- Hey??” you reached over on his side of the car to reach for your phone that was in his hands, but due to the seat belt you were in you couldn’t reach as far. 

Guess Damien didn’t have his own one on, because in the next second his hand was wrapped in your collar shirt, where he then pulled you towards him hard. 

You gagged as the seatbelt pushed against your neck and chest, your own hands grabbing at his. 

“I’m talking to you and instead you scroll through your phone?” he asked as if this was a slight against his name. 

“God, you're so insufferable,” His hands tighten its grip on your collar as he pulls you closer towards him, causing the seat belt to choke you further, 

“What? Can’t speak?” he taunted, now your hands left from his and you were scrambling to undo your seatbelt “Why do you even need to since obviously you think your too important than to interact with-” 

He didn’t get the chance to finish whatever rant he was going with, you unbuckled yourself and with the force he was pulling, you tumbled into him. You both smacked against each other and the car door.

You couldn’t even reach to nurse your injuries before the limo came to a screening halt, causing you both to jump from your seats. 

The car door on Damien’s (and now yours) side opens up, and thankfully you didn’t cartoonishly spill out the car. Damien had to brace himself on his seat so he didn’t fall out.

You looked out to see Alfred, the one who was driving you both to school, is the one who opened the door. He didn’t look the least bit pleased. 

Looks like you both made it to school though. 

You looked around and found your phone on the car floor, you grabbed it and your bookbag and quite literally climbed over Damien to get out, revenge for the shit show he just pulled. You didn’t bother to listen to whatever lecture Alfred was about to use nor the enraged look Damien must have. You simply climbed and hopped out the car and made a beeline to the gates of the school and merging with the other students. 

As you gathered your bearings and assessed yourself to make sure you were decent after that car ride, you switched on your phone to make sure no damage happened to it. Nothing physically, and switching it back on shows it was still working. The sigh of relief that left you, god.

What was all that about??

You rubbed your neck, it still burned from the strap. You can feel your eyes burning too.

No, no tears. The mascara your aunt gave to you was expensive and you will NOT let it run down your face in front of all these people. 

Its so stupid, all of this was stupid. 

“....I wanna go back home…”

“Why.Didn’t.You.Answer.Me.” ahhh, it was inevitable you’d fall for your faith. Being poked and propped, literally, by an angry Viviane in English. It's what you get for ignoring her messages. 

After cooling off in the last three class periods, you were waiting for your 4th one to begin. The teacher has always been known to run late to classes, so the class was loud with chatter.

Your assigned seat was near the back of the class, and your deskmate was poking at you to annoy you. 

Funny, in the start of the year when you realize this class has seating partners, you tried your best not to bother her, giving her space and scurrying away when classes were over.

That didn’t stop the girl from messaging you a week after classes started. 

To this day you still don’t know how she got your number. 

“I must have not seen it-”

 “Liar,” Viviane cut you off. “I looked and you turned in the winter museum column at 11:45 last night. You were awake when I sent that text.”

Okay stalker. 

“Yeah well,” you began your lie as you pushed her poking nail away away from your face, “I was really focus on Mr. Lopez work-” 

“Ugh, I can just hear the excuses coming out before you even say them.” she sighed dramatically, “I thought I turned notifications on on your phone?”

“...yeah you did.” you gulped, turning away from her so your face doesn’t betray you, suddenly you were very interested with your notebooks on your desk. 

“......did you turn them off-”

“I put them on silent” You can hear her groan out your name, “Why did you do that, huh? What would have happened if there was news worth coverage near your area that I needed you to get to at that moment?” “On a Tuesday night?”

“This is Gotham. God if I had a nickel for each time I said that to you-”

Viviane, president of the school’s newspaper and the co-owner of the schools unofficial news account on social media. You joined the club this year back in the fall as a photographer initially, but some days you find yourself writing a column or two some weeks.

She has been trying to reach out and cover news outside of the school grounds, hence the want for all club members to have notifications on and ready. She likes to be ready, and she has a knack of calling bullshit. 

Or maybe you weren’t a good liar. 

“Hmmm” she eyed you up and down, her lashes low, the look made you fidget around a bit. “Well, there really wasn’t anything that happened last night anyways.” she admitted, “I was inviting you out.”

“Viv-”

“God you're such a hermit.” she said as she resumed the poking, this time at the back of your head. If she wasn’t fond of long decorated deco nails, you may be able to ignore it, “A once in a lifetime chance the club goes out as a group and you want to miss out on it?”

“You mean the new arcade that just reopened after it was basically demolished from some Joker attack?”

“......” it was Vivaine turn to look away embarrassed, all for like two seconds 

“I’ve never seen you do anything fun, well that wasn’t photography-” “I like photography,” you pointed out, you finally stopped shuffling in your bag and gathered your materials for the class,

“Yeah, but when was the last time you did it that wasn’t for the school newspaper.”

Okay so she got you again. But that doesn’t mean you still didn’t find running around Gotham fun…..dangerous but fun still. 

“Well, even still the arcade is back and running! The club needs some much needed fun with all the shit we go through.” “The ish you put us through?”

“WE go through” she corrected, “We all are going, I’m making it mandatory”

“Oh COME ON-” you quickly quieted yourself, feeling eyes on you from your loudness. You shank back into your seat

Embarrassing 

“Just listen,” her voice was lowered to the point where you had to scoot closer to listen 

“Isn’t it weird how the place was practically demolished in a police vs drug lord setup, and now it’s back running in a matter of weeks??” Ah so this isn’t the R&R trip she’s trying to make it. 

“Oh my god viv-” “Mandatory~” she sang, grabbing your closest hand to her and swinging it. “You’ll have so much fun, I'll make sure all my friends have fun!” she giggled

“....” 

“Oooo wait I got the chance to read the segment of the museum you wrote, why didn’t you tell anyone you went…” You weren’t really paying attention to her or her hand holding at that point, partly because the English teacher finally came in to start the class but also….

She said you were her friend. 

God you should have dropped out of the club…..okay maybe that was extreme. 

But your feelings of wanting to go back home were also extreme. 

Here you were, Viviane successfully had gotten you to come to the arcade, by which of refusing to let you go back home (good cause you didn’t want to deal with the mess that was waiting for you), and instead dragged you to her own her own place before it was time to meet everyone here. 

Even for a weekday night, it was loud with games blaring and kids screaming and running around. You almost tripped over one of them when you first entered. 

Though, you can’t complain of the lack of games and activities around the place. The owners had probably gotten a huge settlement from insurance or whatever, because they were not short of excitement. 

Maybe you were being a sour wuss, this place is probably really fun. Too bad you're really awkward. 

Not all the members came, so much for it being “mandatory”

Viviane as soon as you all got there, immediately went off, probably sweet talking whatever kid at the counter space for information about the owners. Which left you and the three other members that came.

You don’t know how it even happened, but the two guy members suddenly started having a showdown on whoever could win the most tickets. And somehow that led to you being dragged as referee and scorekeeper.  

Right now you three were at the basketball hooping machine, a game you made them play twice already cause mid way through the first go arounds the balls ended up being thrown at each other rather than the hoop.

You were hanging in the back leaning against a wall, your phone out with tally notes and Alfred’s messages. 

“You seem to be having the time of your life.” huh? 

You looked around to hear where that voice came from, only to turn to your side and see it was the 5th member that joined, Aurelia. You were leaning against a wall that was behind the two members playing fighting. “You seem way more relaxed than how you were when we came in”

“Oh…you could tell?”

“Girl” they slid next to you on the wall, that's when you noticed the ginormous cone of cotton candy they had gotten, “You literally went rigid as soon as Viv dipped. Thankfully these knuckleheads didn’t seem to notice as they dragged you away.” Aurelia chuckled watching the other two starting to go at it.

Thank god for the cloud of sugar that was big enough to not show your embarrassed face. 

To be honest, you completely lost track of them. They just ghosted the group as soon as you all got there, and to be honest that was pretty on brand for Aurelia. 

Aurelia wasn’t technically a member of the newspaper. They were, way before you joined. What did they do? They were the gossip column’s writer, basically. Vivaine herself will always say what Aurelia wrote was simply speculation, but others would beg to differ. Vivaine also probably considered she made them use a pen name. 

A school like Gotham Prep academy was one that didn’t want any to damper its reputation, they were a well, highly acclaimed and decorated school. Its students went on to be great scientists, politicians, business owners, and more. The school, though, is still in Gotham, and it sure did have its skeletons. 

You don’t know what for sure put the nail in the coffin, if it was the story of the underlining steroids problem in the school being started by a gym teacher, or how certain high elite parents were paying teacher’s off to pass their kids. 

No one knows how Aurelia got those bank statements to this day. 

Whatever it was, the school put an immediate stop to it, either Vivaine kicked out whoever was writing the columns, or all members got kicked and a whole revamp of the newspaper crew. 

Aurelia voluntarily left, but the next day an account under the same penname popped up. 

“I’m not finished with this thing, literally please take some.” 

“Okay okay” you reached over and grabbed a piece from the cloud and ignored how you just saw a ball get thrown somewhere that wasn’t the hoop. Cotton candy was more important, and also your phone which began to vibrate, signaling a new notification.

As a teenager in your day and age you went for it immediately to check your message, a grave mistake since the notification showed your extremely low grade in your math class. 

“Oh you take Mr. Lopez class too?” Aurelia asked, you hadn’t noticed that your phone and bad grade was on full view for them. 

“Oh- ah..” you quickly put your phone back in your pocket, feeling embarrassed “Yeah, this class has been terrible and the semester isn’t isn't even over.” 

“Have you ever thought about getting a tutor?”

“Hm?” a tutor?

“Yeah, I also was taking that class and it was legit busting my ass. I knew that first month I needed a tutor.” they whipped out their phone and scrolled a bit before finding what they were looking for 

“Here,” they brought their phone up to you, it showed a list of their grades in the same class.

The first few grades were…..less than ideal….but during the later fall months, their grades had gotten better, like way better. 

“Oh my god-....a tutor helped you with this?” 

“Yep” you must have had a questioning look on your face because Aurelia seemed to get a bit flustered by it, “oh- no I definitely didn’t pay this school money to fix this. Please god- I'd rather just fail.” they snorted out the last part before laughing. After a moment, you began laughing a bit too. 

“Yeah no, wait, so what tutor did you even get?”

“Oh, she's amazing. And not like one of those that comes from like a tutor company or anything. No, I literally found a flyer on the school bulletin board.” Aurelia continued to ramble as they brought back their phone to scroll around more. 

“She’s like a college student- okay this is getting too much.” 

What was getting too much? Well you completely forgot that you were in an arcade opened to the public, some kid around the corner spotted the cotton candy you both were eating and began screaming about wanting one. 

“Ugh, come on.” Aurelia grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the wall. You were led around the arcade until the two of you found an exit that led to outside. The cold wind pierced against your exposed skin, the chill already reaching your bones, but it was quiet. 

Good. 

“Ahh that's better” Aurelia said as they stretched their arms out, “I love the cold, it's so refreshing-” they turned towards you

“oh-oops. Guess you don’t like it as much huh” 

“Nooo, what are you talking about?” you asked through your teeth. You can even tell that you were shivering ass off. 

“Well, let’s just make this quick then.” they said as they tossed the cotton candy away before pulling out their phone again. The pang in your heart hurted at the sight. 

“I wanted it to be quieter so I can hear your number.”

“...Number?”

“Yeah, I’m totally going to try and hook you up with my girl! Well tutor, but she is a life saver.”

Oooohh

“Plus I never even got your number, and you joined a bit ago, no?”

….honestly it makes sense to you. You recited your number to them and they tapped in it, a few seconds later your phone buzzed, you opened it up again to see a new message from an unknown number

Unknown- It's me, Arii 

“Oh, do you need me to spell out my name for you” you asked as you save the new contact, 

“Nah, your under ‘Camgirl’”

“....what the-”

“Come on let's go back inside before Viv sniffs us out”

Im introducing a taglist for those who wants to read my story without the shitposting that is 90% of this blog. You can either comment, dm or send an ask if you want to be part of it

[swanimagines]

Hi! Could you write a short Eddie Munson x reader blurb where it's just morning cuddles and kisses in his bed 🥺 Please and thank you!

A/N: Makeout scenes always feel weird to write to me, but I did my best haha 😅

GOOD MORNING METALHEAD

When the first flickers of light penetrated through the windows of Eddie’s trailer, it illuminated your and Eddie’s sleeping bodies. Tangled in blankets and in each other’s bodies, his bed far too small for two people, but you still, somehow, had managed to fit.

You were the one stirring first, squinting to make sense of the alarm clock beside you and groaned — you should get up within fifteen minutes and leave for school. At least, if you wanted to take care of your hygiene before leaving.

You turned your head to look at your sleeping boyfriend and sighed, lifting yourself up to your forearms. You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and stared at his face for a moment. You knew you should get up already, your teachers already weren’t thinking too fondly of you two as you had lost the track of time and (more or less accidentally) skipped classes because of making out somewhere.

But you just couldn’t help it, looking at Eddie’s face, laying there, in warmth… it just always pulled you towards staying with him and pushing your responsibilities back for him. Someone might say he’s bad company because of that, but it was really just teenage love.

“Mm, you’re staring at me,” he suddenly murmured, making you flinch slightly and sit up straighter.

“I didn’t know you’re awake.”

He opened his eyes a crack. “I had the most amazing dream,” he murmured, blinking at you lazily. “I was in my bed with a literal angel.”

You pouted. “Disappointed it’s just me?”

He snorted. “Why would I be disappointed? My dream turned out to be better than reality.”

You felt yourself blushing and bit your lower lip. “You’re such a sap.”

He shifted, raising himself up a little to lean his head on his hand, before he grinned. “Only for you, baby.”

You were quiet for a moment, just basking in the morning warmth, before you sighed. “We should really get up.”

He pouted. “Don’t ruin the mood.”

“I wouldn’t, unless we weren’t an inch away from failing in our classes again.”

He flopped back down onto his bed, pulling you against him. “Eh, we still have our whole lives ahead of us. Being left on class won’t hurt just yet.”

You didn’t argue with that, even though you knew that way of thinking was madness. But you couldn’t help but think how in his arms, your grades didn’t really matter.

You felt his lips trailing down your jaw, so you tilted your head to return the affection, kissing the corner of his mouth before he pressed his lips against yours. Soon, you had rolled over, your lips moving together and you were giggling every time you parted. You threw your other leg across his while his hand trailed up and down your bare back, slightly pulling you closer.

It was always as addicting, kissing with him. Time always seemed to fly by, which wasn’t always a good thing, but you at least pretended not to care.

It took a while, and your positions changed at least ten times before you finally parted to glance at the clock again.

The school was starting in twenty minutes, no chance of making it in time. You groaned and flopped back against the pillow. “Shit. We should really stop doing this.”

Eddie snorted again. “Kiss each other stupid each morning you’re over? Not a chance.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know I sound like I’m nagging, but it’s really messing with our school and possibly our future through that. Teachers aren’t going to take ‘our lips were glued together for an hour, sorry’ for an explanation.”

He hummed, but his grip on you didn’t loosen. “Let’s make up another explanation, an acceptable one, and make out for one hour more?”

You should have said no. Everything in you screamed a no. It wouldn’t be a good idea.

But, as expected, you were in his arms half an hour later too. Being late wasn’t that bad, at least if your stupid lovesick teenager brain was asked over your reasonable part of your brain…

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[driverlando]

Jealous biker lando being over protective of waitress reader 👀

Dangerous Territory ── biker!lando x waitress!reader ✧.*

The diner hums with its usual late-night rhythm. The faint clatter of cutlery, the buzz of conversation, and the smell of frying bacon and coffee fill the air. You’re moving from table to table, a practiced smile on your lips as you top off mugs and serve plates. It’s late, and your shift is dragging, but it’s familiar, comforting in a way. The neon lights from the diner’s sign outside cast a soft glow over the checkered floors, painting everything in a warm, nostalgic light.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Lando in his usual booth, sitting with his back to the wall, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat. He’s always there at the end of your shifts, watching you, not in an overbearing way but in a protective, silent kind of presence. His leather jacket creaks as he leans back, his dark eyes tracking your movements with a kind of lazy interest. The dim lighting throws shadows across his sharp jawline, making him look even more dangerous than usual. He doesn’t need to say much; just his being there is enough to let everyone know you’re not alone.

You try not to focus on him too much, knowing that whenever your eyes meet, something sparks in the air between you. But it’s hard not to notice him, sitting there like a storm waiting to break, his motorcycle parked just outside, ready to whisk you away once you’ve clocked out.

As you move back to the counter, you feel someone’s eyes on you, a different kind of stare. A guy at the counter, someone you haven’t seen before, grins at you as you set a plate of food down in front of him. His smile is too wide, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than you’d like as you bring him his food. “Another burger and chips,” you say politely, sliding the plate in front of him, already moving to step back when he decides to lean in.

“You work here every night, darling?” His words are slurred but sharp enough to make your stomach turn. His eyes rake over you, from your waist up to your face, and the sleazy grin spreading across his lips sends a chill through you.

You force a smile, trying to keep things professional. “Most nights,” you reply curtly, turning away to tend to the next table, but his voice follows you, dripping with entitlement.

“You’re too pretty for a place like this,” he says, louder now, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. “How about you finish up here and I take you somewhere nice, eh? Bet you’ve never been treated right.” His voice greasy, oozing with an unwanted familiarity.

You freeze, fingers tightening around the coffee pot in your hand, trying to keep calm. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say through gritted teeth, praying he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

But, of course, he doesn’t. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly. How about I get your number?” He leans further over the counter, and now you can feel his breath on your skin, the stench of beer making your stomach churn.

You’re about to respond when you feel a shift in the air, a prickle of tension that’s unmistakable. Lando’s watching. And this time, he’s not staying in his booth.

From where you stand, you can see the change in everyone else; the way conversations pause, forks freeze mid-bite, and even the jukebox seems to fade into the background.

Lando’s not rushing. He never does. He walks with purpose, slow and steady, his boots thudding against the tiled floor with a deliberate weight. His leather jacket is half-zipped, the collar up, his eyes locked on the bloke at the counter with a look that could kill.

You’re caught between wanting to stop him and knowing better. Lando’s never been one to start trouble, but he doesn’t shy away from it either, especially not when it comes to you.

The guy at the counter seems blissfully unaware of the impending storm, too caught up in his own delusions of charm. “What d’you say, love? You can do better than this place, yeah?”

Before you can open your mouth, Lando steps up behind you, his chest almost brushing your back as he positions himself between you and the counter. His presence feels like a shield, his hand lightly grazing your waist, a silent gesture that says, I’ve got this.

“You’ve got about three seconds to leave,” Lando says quietly, his voice low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. The kind of tone that promises hell if the bloke doesn’t listen.

The man’s smile falters for the first time, but he tries to laugh it off. “Oi, mate, no need to get all worked up. We’re just having a bit of fun, yeah?” His eyes flick between you and Lando, clearly trying to assess if this is worth pushing.

Lando doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. “I’m not your mate,” he growls, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “And she’s not interested. So, unless you want to be picking up your teeth from the floor, I suggest you leave.”

There’s a pause, thick with tension. Lando’s arm brushes against yours, a small but significant reminder that you’re not alone in this. His fingers twitch slightly, as if resisting the urge to do more, but his presence alone is enough to make the guy back down, finally clocking just how dangerous Lando is. He mutters something under his breath, something about not wanting trouble, and then fumbles to grab his jacket, to throw some money on the counter before practically tripping over his stool in his haste to leave. The bell jingles as it swings shut behind him, and the quiet that follows is almost deafening.

You exhale slowly, the knot in your stomach finally loosening. Lando’s hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he turns slightly, looking down at you. His jaw is still tight, his eyes softer now but still flickering with the remnants of protective rage.

“You alright?” His voice is gentler now, his thumb brushing your side.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah, thanks”

Lando’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the intensity melting away now that the guy is gone. His hand moves to your waist, fingers brushing gently over your hip in a way that feels more like a reassurance than anything else. “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with protectiveness. “Bloke’s lucky I didn’t deck him.”

You laugh softly, though there’s a hint of truth in his words that makes you shiver. “You didn’t have to get up, I could’ve handled it.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, but why let you when I’m right here?” he teases lightly, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t deny the flutter in your chest at how easily he steps in when you need him. “You’re crazy.”

“And you love it,” he says with a grin, tugging you just a little closer before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His hand lingers on your waist as if he can’t bring himself to let go, even as you pull away to get back to work.

As you return to your shift, you can still feel Lando’s eyes on you, that quiet, protective presence watching over you from his booth. And though the diner’s back to its usual buzz, you feel safer, knowing Lando’s never far, ready to step in the moment you need him.

—

read After Hours here

[dawnisevening]

★ Ellie x Camgirl!reader

Part 2.

Taglist: @cattjull

Ellie couldn’t believe it. She genuinely couldn’t believe it but here she was staring at the email. You had did a giveaway for a free show a while back, highest bidder won. Of course Ellie put in money, I mean how could she pass up a chance like that? But she didn’t expect to win. But here she was staring at the email sent to her from you. It was basically explaining how she won and your discord below it with a time- 7:15. Ellie was so excited.. She thought it was a little embarrassing she had a crush on someone she had never even met, but you were simply beautiful she couldn’t help but be attracted. Ellie sighed and got out of bed, she went the whole day just thinking about what tonight would be like. She couldn’t stop looking at the clock when she was at work, it was like it was taunting her. When it hit 6:40 she rushed home. She changed into a tank top and shorts and hurried to her computer and loaded up discord.. it was 7:08. She was nervously wondering if she should go ahead and send the request.. but she contemplated on it till 7:10. She sent eh request..

You were preparing, you had it randomly chose so you weren’t sure who exactly you were gonna be on call with. You sighed as you changed into a lazy lingerie set and put on some lotion. Your head snapped up when you heard a notification.. you re-read the message over and over. No way it was them…. It was the same username as the person who sent you all those donations and money, and secretly your favorite chatter. You couldn’t believe it.. you gulped and hurries to finish to get ready, when you were done it was 7:14. You had accepted the request. You nervously waited.. it felt like forever until 7:15 finally hit and you hurried and clicked the call button.

Ellie was nervously fiddling with her keys until the sound of an incoming call made her jump.. you were calling her. You were actually calling her! She hurried and excepted. She made sure her mic and camera was off. She gasped when she saw you on the screen. Taking in your curves and your pretty plush body. It felt so much more intimate when it was only you two. Ellie couldn’t help but slowly untie her drawstrings.

You gulped, a little disappointed to see the camera off but you pushed it aside. You shyly grabbed a vibrator and got to work. Shyly tracing it over yourself through the panties. You couldn’t help but think of what she was thinking..

Ellie groaned at the sight taking in your form. She slipped her hand in her shorts slowly touching and teasing herself. She bit her lip when you slid your panties off. She groaned at the sight. She loved it. She was so hungry for you. When you started to reach and finger yourself while letting the toy vibrate your swollen clit. Ellie whined and slipped fingers in herself as-well. She was moaning. Her head reeled at the sound of your pretty moans and whimpers. She let her hand hurry and grip the first thing she could get her hands on when she hit her sweet spot. She heard you gasp which caught her attention. She looked up realized she accidentally turned her camera on. She flushed in embarrassment and was quick to turn it off.

You lazily played with yourself, but when you saw the camera turned on you gasped. She looked beautiful. Shorts slid down her thighs and pleasuring herself. You thought she was beautiful. When you saw her freak out and turn it off you groaned

Ellie was so embarrassed. She was debating ending the call when she heard your voice, “Turn it back on..”. Ellie felt her heart pound, she shyly went and turned her camera on, revealing her wrecked self to you. And god it was a sight. Ellie accidentally hit her sweet spot and her mind reeled in pleasure. Your voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Turn on your mic.. I wanna hear you.” Ellie bit back a moan at your wrecked voice talking to her. When she turned on her mic she let out an embarrassed whimper. She felt so revealed and vulnerable all on display like this.

You groaned at the sight. And when her mic turned on and your could hear her desperate whines and needy cries it made your heart beat faster. You started back up on working on yourself, rubbing the vibrator and teasing yourself. You watched Ellie’s face, she eyed your like prey. Like a hungry hawk. You couldn’t help but groan. She eyed you like a meal. You went faster, it felt so good. But it felt even better when you started to hear Ellie’s moans and cries. You started to whimper out aswell.

Ellie just couldn’t help herself. She looked at the beautiful sight and practically bounced on her own fingers, letting out unfiltered moans. Eventually through her moans she said “Ellie..” which left you feeling a little confused you furrowed your brows, until she spoke again.. “say my name, please.. Nhh..”. She sounded so desperate you couldn’t help but moan and go through with her request. Crying out “Ellie” Everytime your fingers brushed your sweet spot. It drove Ellie wild. She stared like a hungry animal, and humped her fingers like a cat in heat. She stared until she was whining and spilling release all over her own fingers.. You gasped and came at the sight. It was a lot. Ellie panted. She couldn’t believe she just did that! She was about to shyly hang up the call until you said..

“We should collab..”

PART THREE? 😁