#stopped clocks eh

[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.

[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

[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 impossible.”

“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? 😁

[ruhitsblog]

Malicious swap

The body swapping program was designed to help students better understand their peers. It was an opportunity for students of different backgrounds, interests, and personalities to experience life in someone else’s shoes, even if only for a day.

It was the brainchild of the school’s new principal, who had been a psychology major in college. The idea was that by understanding one another better, students would get along more harmoniously.

So the students were divided into pairs, each pair consisting of one student who had been nominated as being particularly popular, and another student who had been nominated as being particularly unpopular.

The first pair chosen were Jace, the star football quarterback, and Mike, the class nerd. It wasn’t an arbitrary choice; Jace and Mike had a history of animosity between them. Jace had often picked on Mike, calling him names, tripping him in the hallway, and even stealing his homework from time to time. The hope was that by switching bodies, Jace would understand what it was like to be Mike, and would stop his cruel behavior.

Jace didn’t seem too excited about the idea, but he went along with it anyway. After all, he wanted to be more  popular after all this event, and the principal said this would make him so.

The day of the switch arrived. Jace and Mike sat down in front of the strange machine the principal had built. It was shaped like two chairs, facing each other, and there were wires connecting them. A light flickered on top of each chair. The principal sat down at a small desk next to the machine. He looked up at the clock on the wall.

But before the swap I want to set up some rules, he said. Each of you will be in the other’s body for  4 days , unless the person whose body you are inhabiting decides to switch back early. If you do something harmful or cruel to your partner while you’re in their body, they can decide not to switch back, as punishment. But if you don’t harm your partner, they are required to switch back at the end of the 4 fays period. Are you both ready?

Jace and Mike both nodded.

Jace climbed into one chair, and Mike climbed into the other. They held hands with their partners, and closed their eyes. The principal turned a switch on the machine. The lights on top of the machine began to blink faster and faster.

The principal counted down from ten. When he got to zero, the lights flashed brightly, and the boys’ eyes shot open.

They both gasped in shock. Jace looked down at his body and saw that it had changed into a chubby body. His skin was now pasty white, and his hair was long and unkempt. His clothes were a baggy shirt and loose jeans.

Mike looked down at his new body and saw that it was muscular and strong. His hair was short and stylish, and his clothes were a tight t-shirt and skinny jeans.

Jace stood up out of the chair, and stumbled slightly. He looked at Mike, who was still sitting down.

“Dude, how do you walk around in this body? It’s so heavy!”

Mike smiled. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it.”

Jace stumbled over to Mike and patted his new back. “You’ve got some junk in the trunk, eh?”

Mike blushed, and looked down at the ground. “Well, yeah, I guess so.”

Jace laughed, a cruel laugh. “Well, you know what they say; the bigger the belly, the smaller the dick!”

Mike’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. He looked up at Jace, tears in his eyes. “I hate you!”

Jace laughed again. “Oh, shut up, fatty! Don’t be so sensitive!”

The principal, who had been watching the exchange, spoke up. “Jace, you’re not allowed to make fun of your partner. That’s against the rules!”

Jace glared at him. “Oh, come on, dude. I was just joking around!”

The principal shook his head. “Jace, you know how Mike feels about his weight. You should be more sensitive to his feelings.”

Jace crossed his arms, scowling. “I’m just joking around! I’m not hurting anyone’s feelings!”

The principal sighed. “Jace, you need to apologize to your partner.”

Jace glared at Mike. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Mike looked up at Jace, tears still streaming down his face. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

The principal nodded. “That’s better. Now, let’s get you two to class.”

Jace and Mike walked down the hallway, Jace stumbling slightly as he tried to get used to his new body. Mike walked beside him, feeling strange in his new body as well.

When they got to class, the other students all stared at them in shock. Some of the girls started giggling, and some of the guys snickered.

Mike sat down at his desk, trying to ignore them. But it was hard. Everyone kept staring at him, and he could tell they were smiling at him.

At lunchtime, Jace went to sit with his friends on the football team. But when he tried to join them, they all looked at him and asked "hey Mike why are youcoming near us" jace was angry and that's when Mike also came the football team welcome him as jase as he was now in his body . He act cockily like the real Jace would do and start enjoying his lunch . The real Jace was so sad seeing them like this.

Jace was getting ready to go home in his Farari when he realised the keys was with Mike  in his body , Jace went to look for Mike but he saw Jace driving his Farari car with ease and heading my house or should I say his former body's house I went dejected to the hostel where Mike was living for 3 years and saw how average the facilities were. I couldn't even sleep on the bed cause it was too small for me. I got to know that Jace never tried to understand what he did with me and I felt sorry for him cause he was so ignorant.

The next day Jace woke up  and was surprised to find himself naked. He still remembers he went asleep fully dressed so that means i now can undress myself naked while sleeping unconsciously He quickly got dressed and went to meet Mike.

“You look like shit, fatty. Did you stay up all night jerking off?” Mike mocked form my own athletic body.

Jace looked at  Mike , a mixture of sadness and anger on his face. “I didn’t jerk off, you asshole. I stayed up all night thinking about how to end this shot project quickly so I can get my body back”

Mike laughed. “Oh, poor baby. Can’t take a little bit of humiliation?”

Jace glared at Mike. “Shut up, nerd! You don’t know anything!”

Mike smirked. “Oh, really? Well, if you want to get your project marks you’d better start treating me nicely.”

Jace’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Mike smiled. “I mean that you have to treat me with respect, and not call me names. Or I might switch back early .”

Jace’s face fell. He knew he was in trouble.

The next two  days went just barely survivable with so much bullying and now I also start to get hard seeing handsome young man in locker room because this was a gay nerd body .

Meanwhile,

Mike was masturbating on his new big royal bed shooting his cum all over his chest and face . He can't believe how much cum can this body shoot and how good he feels now . He is now enjoying the body of Jace and now he has made some new friends , even girls who liked Jace are now interested in him . He started to feel that he doesn't want to switch back cause his life is so much better in this body. He was starting to forget how much pain Jace caused him before. And Jace was just a shadow of his former self, always bullied and humiliated in his new body. And Mike was enjoying it more than he should. And that was his downfall.

On the last day of the swap, Mike woke up in Jace’s bed. He looked in the mirror and saw Jace’s handsome face staring back at him. He smiled at his got an idea how to make the swap permanent.

Mike went to his old hostel and silently put aphrodisiacs in Jace food . He kept an eye from a hole in his old rooms window made of wood , till he saw Jace eating it clean getting ready for school . He knew his old body was gay. So......

Jace went to laundry room for picking up Mike's or rather his washed clothes  his eyes fell on several shirtless young men caming from the gym his penis got super hard and start leaking precum forming a wer spot . The young gym players got an evil idea they went to Jace and asked him to accompany them to bathroom, he nervously went with them . They closed it and starts striping him naked and let him suck their covks and swallowing their cum they even spiit in Jace mouth saying to pl ase them whenever he sees them .

All of this was being recorded by me with a drone showing how Jace fucked up his former life  , Mike sent this to the school higher ups demanding explain tion  from Jace why he did such horrible things . Jace was in tears telling everything . That he was forced to do it , they showed the video in school and everyone knew he was a gay and he had no choice but to suck dick . The school administration asked Jace to beg Mike to switch back the bodies but Jace was crying that Mike don't wanna switch back cause he  doesn't want to get a fucked up life  .

The school principal said that now Jace has to live as Mike because of his crime and now Mike will be the new 'Jace ' the famous rich football quarterback living his luxurious life  . And so he did . Jace was now forced to live as Mike . He was forced to wear the nerdy clothes, and to eat the nerdy food, and to live in the nerdy hostel. And he was forced to do nerdy things, like studying hard, and playing chess. And he was forced to do nerdy jobs, like tutoring, and mowing lawns.

One day Jace heard noice from the store room so he decided to look what was there but got shocked at what he saw . He saw his former self or rather Mike  fucking three cheerleaders at once , Mike was sucking one girl's breast while putting his hard penis in the second girls vagina and pushing his fingers in the third girls butt . They were all screaming in pleasure as they all were in an orgasm. Jace couldn't take it and he left the store room in tears and ran to his nerdy hostel . Mike was now living his former life and he was enjoying it a lot. And Jace was now a nerd, a gay nerd. He was crying every night, missing his Farari, and his hot girls. And he was missing his former life, the life of a famous quarterback. He was now a nobody. And he was forced to live like this forever. This is his punishment. And he learned his lesson. He learned to be more nice to nerds. Cause now he is a nerd, a gay nerd.

And Mike was living happily ever after, in Jace’s body, with all the riches, and girls, and friends. He learned that sometimes, life isn’t so bad. Sometimes, life is good. And he was happy to be alive, in Jace’s body. And he was happy to be a quarterback, and to be popular. And he was happy to live like this forever. And he learned his lesson. He learned to never bully nerds again. Cause now he knows how it feels. And he knows that sometimes, nerds can be the best. .

[starmocha]

fly to you like birds do [Sylus/Reader ★ 2642 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus can't sleep A/N: I have no idea what happened. It was supposed to be just smut, but I guess we’re sandwiching the smut between some fluff instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was well past two in the morning when Sylus stepped out of the shower, water droplets still clinging to his hair. He dried himself and slipped on just a pair of simple burgundy pajamas bottom. There was a heat wave outside, and though the air conditioner was running inside his home, Sylus still felt restless. He returned to his room, still tensed, knowing sleep was not going to be in his favor tonight.

He stopped in his track when he heard his phone ringing. How peculiar, he thought, considering the time. Stepping closer to his bed, he saw your picture and name flashed up on the screen. Smiling, he answered, turning on the speaker:

“Is this my pretty little hunter calling me?”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before he heard your voice: “I dialed by mistake.”

“I’m sure you did,” he responded cordially, humoring you in spite of seeing through the thinly-veiled fib. He placed the phone on the nightstand and climbed into bed under satin cover. The sound of your voice instantly calmed him, and he continued, “It’s two in the morning. Why are you still up?”

Silence followed his question again. Sylus frowned. “Hello?”

“I’m hanging up,” you declared, tone a pitch higher than intended, clearly embarrassed by this whole situation.

“Wait,” Sylus interrupted before you could end the call. He continued, “Don’t. Chat with me.”

“It’s two in the morning,” you echoed his earlier words back to him, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted, and then with a sly grin, he continued, “Maybe you could help me.”

There were slight shuffling noises on your end before you answered, confused, “How?”

“We can chat until we’re tired,” he said, turning to his side to face the phone. “We can start with why you called me in the first place, and don’t bother trying to lie to me again.”

You sighed, knowing you were never good at hiding things, especially from him. You admitted softly, “I can’t sleep either.”

“And your first thought was to call me? I’m touched.” He laughed when he heard your flustered voice on the other end. “Alright, alright, calm down, I was only teasing.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you grumbled.

“My apologies then. Won’t you forgive me, Miss Hunter?”

“I think not.”

He hummed softly in amusement at your defiance. “Perhaps you would feel better if you punish me then.”

“Eh?”

“I have clearly wronged you,” he said, voice tinged with humor, “it is only right that I should be punished for my misdeed.”

Sylus could hear you talking quietly to yourself, clearly contemplating his words. He laughed softly to himself as he stared at his phone, picturing you in your apartment flabbergasted by the direction of this phone call. “Alright, time’s up,” he spoke up to your shocked gasp, “I gave you plenty of time to think, so unless…”

“Meow for me.”

“Pardon?”

“Meow for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Sylus chuckled, confused. “Are you serious?” he shook his head and questioned you again, “You are asking the leader of Onychinus to���meow?”

“Uh huh,” you answered, this time pleased with yourself for reducing this powerful man to a state of utter bewilderment. “Please?”

He sighed. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he paused, and then he cleared his throat, “Meow.”

There was a pause. Sylus couldn’t hear anything other than the air conditioner running in his home, and just as he was about to check in on you, you spoke up with a squeal:

“You purred.”

“Is that not what cats do?”

“Well, yes. But. You purred.”

“We’ve established that already,” he said evenly, unsure of why this was making you so delighted. “Have I been forgiven?”

He smiled when he heard your giggle on the other end: “Yes, I’ve forgiven you.”

Sylus lay back down in bed, his eyes darting to the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. “It’s 2:35. Are you still restless?”

“Mm, yes,” you responded. “Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep now?”

“I can’t sleep,” he reminded you again. “Then let’s continue. How was your day?”

Sylus lay there, listening to you describe your day, unbothered when you took too many tangents to get to a very anticlimactic ending of a very mundane story. He occasionally chimed in, but for the most part, he was more interested in just hearing your voice, listening to the subtle changes in tone and picturing your expression as you retold your day. He barely noticed you were done speaking until you called out to him, asking him about his own day.

“My day? Normal,” he answered vaguely.

“That’s cryptic.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, and you knew that was all you were going to get out of him.

“Sylus?”

“What is it?”

“What are you wearing?”

Sylus once again paused, surprised by the question that came out of left field. Once he composed himself, he smirked and answered, “Pajamas bottom. Should I also describe the color and material as well?”

“Please do.”

Sylus laughed and shook his head. “Burgundy and cotton.”

“Ah.”

Sylus raised a brow. “Not that I am complaining about this change in topic, but care to explain yourself, sweetheart?”

“I was curious,” you admitted in half-truth, “If I can picture what you are wearing, it would be like you are next to me right now.”

“How cute,” he cooed, unaware that he was making you blush with his voice, “Then may I ask what you are wearing, my dear?”

“An oversized shirt.”

“How unsexy,” he answered, disappointed.

“It’s yours.”

Oh. Well, that certainly changed everything, Sylus decided, intrigued now.

“My shirt?” The mental image of you in his shirt was definitely having an effect he didn’t realize it could. All wrapped up in his shirt, much too big for you, the sleeves too long, the length going down to your thighs—he was definitely appreciating the picture being painted in his mind. Sylus stifled back a groan, and continued in as even a voice as he could, “And how did you manage to obtain one of my shirts without my knowledge?”

“I took it from your place,” you confessed, “It was the one that I had accidentally spilled wine on, so I felt bad and tried to wash it out for you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, though I do have other shirts and it can easily be replaced.” He sensed your immediate quietness as a sign of embarrassment. He knew you did this as a sign of apology, and he quickly surmised his dismissive tone must have hurt your feelings, so he changed his phrasing: “Why haven’t you returned it to me then?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity,” you answered, tone dropping, a hint of sadness creeping through, “We haven’t seen each other lately.”

Ah. Sylus was catching on to the reason for this sudden late-night call. “And why are you wearing it now?”

Silence again.

“Sweetheart?”

That one word seemed to have broken a dam, and Sylus was surprised by the sudden quiet admission: “It feels like you.”

“You missed me,” he stated, and when he didn’t hear you respond, he wondered if his tone might have hurt you in some way again. He continued with a sigh, “I miss you, too.”

“Sylus…”

“I miss seeing you,” he added, knowing he was sounding a little more vulnerable than normal. “The sound of your voice…your smiles…the way…”

He paused, realizing the reason for his own restlessness. It wasn’t because of the heat wave happening throughout the city. Rather, it was the lack of a different kind of heat that was making him agitated.

“Sylus?”

“The way you feel in my arms,” he finished.

You didn’t respond, and Sylus laughed. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“N-No!”

“Liar.”

He could hear you huffing in annoyance. Just as he was about to continue in his teasing, you hit him with another piece of information about your sleepwear:

“I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

“I-I see…” He paused, contemplating, before he questioned you, “Nothing? No—”

“No shorts. No panties.”

Well, that picture had unquestionably gotten even more interesting for Sylus. He held back another groan, as he pictured now just your bare body, caressed by nothing but just his shirt.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” you teased him, feeling triumphant for finally having the upper-hand in this phone conversation.

“Such arrogance,” he mumbled low, smirking, “Maybe you should take responsibility for making me so hard then.”

There was a surprised squeak.

He laughed low. “Come now, it’s only fair.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Don’t know?”

“I…I don’t know how…I mean we’re just talking…”

Sylus leaned back against his pillows and laughed. “It’s because we’re talking that I am feeling this way now,” he answered low, his hands already tugging his bottoms down to discard to the side. He groaned softly at the sight of his erect penis. He continued, “Aren’t you feeling something from our conversation?”

“Y-yeah…” you admitted, “I…I think I am…”

He hummed softly, closing his eyes, the image of you in his shirt was once again before him.

“Need my pretty little cock-warmer,” he murmured, his hand wrapped around his hard member, a clear soft hiss escaped his lips. He lazily stroked himself as he continued to speak to you on the phone, his tone carrying shades of sensualness, “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You flustered. “I-I have been…”

“No,” he interrupted you firmly, “Talk to me.”

“I…”

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

You trembled at the sound of his firm voice, the dominating tone made you hesitantly slipped your hand inside the shirt you were wearing, your hand finding your breast. You toyed with your nipple, whimpering as it became firm.

“Where are you touching yourself?”

“M-my breast…”

Sylus hummed again, eyes still closed, but now he was picturing his large hand on your breast, massaging it gently, pinching your nipple until they were firm as you moan softly underneath him. He wanted to take that nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as he massaged your other breast, wanted to feel you squirm against him, your hands running through his hair as he ravaged you and keep you held down by the heavy weight of his body on yours.

“Sweetheart…”

“Sylus…”

“Take off my shirt.”

You immediately obeyed him. “It’s…it’s off.”

“Good girl,” he purred. “Lay back in bed, picture me with you.”

His voice sounded like it was an octave lower, soft pants escaped his lips as he continued to leisurely stroke himself. “Need you spread out beneath me.”

You felt a heat building up inside you as you listened to him speak, that devilishly deep voice always stirring something sinful within you. With each erotic word spoken by him, you parted your legs slightly and your hand moved lower to touch yourself somewhere much more intimate.

“Want to feel just how wet you can get for me.”

You let out a whimper, picturing his sharp ruby red eyes staring you down, his own fingers touching you. You rubbed your clit, tossing your head to the side with a moan, wishing it was his hand instead touching you, needing his lips on you, the feel of him against you.

“Want to taste you, sweetheart, eat you out until you come.”

You gasped at the picture, your legs trembling as you started to touch yourself more urgently. It wasn’t enough. You needed something more, something bigger…thicker—Sylus.

“Ohh, Sylus…”

“F-fuck…” he groaned at the sound of your moan. “Sweetheart, a man could get intoxicated hearing such sweet moaning…”

“Sylus…”

“Speak to me…what do you want?”

“You…”

Sylus let out a low moan, his pace increasing. “Sweetheart,” he gasped, feeling his arousal getting stronger at the sound of your voice growing needier, “need my cock buried inside you. Need my sweet little cock-warmer in my bed under me.”

He continued to mumble, “You always take me so well, always feel so good having you wrapped around my cock.”

That did something to you. You started to gasp into the phone as you writhed in bed, fingers sliding into your slick entrance as you so badly wished it really was his cock pounding into you. You curled up in bed face buried into your pillow, as you chased after the climax that was starting to build up inside. You couldn’t help the whines that came out of your mouth, knowing he was hearing every single incoherent word and noise you were making alone in your room through the phone. “Sy-Sylus…more…tell me more…please…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he was panting, sounding like, he, too, was losing himself in the image he was painting, “Want to hear more of your sweet moans, ah, want to see your face all flushed, all teary-eyed, as I fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want to feel my cock inside you?”

“Oh, god, yes!” Your hips buck against your hand. You were close, the way he described everything with that deep, rich, and sultry voice was having you clench around your own fingers. You rubbed your sensitive clit, but the mental image that it was him touching you instead had you crying out louder than expected.

“Need you now, sweetheart,” he gasped, “Need you so fucking bad, need you to cum on my cock, need to fill you up with my seed—such a good girl, such a pretty girl you are all flushed up as you take all of me—cum, cum for me, sweetheart—”

Sylus let out a groan at the same time he heard you screamed through the phone, the sound of your climax had him spilling into his hand. He lay panting hard in bed, his eyes shut, reliving the moment he heard you scream. The knowledge that he was able to bring you to orgasm through a mere phone call was a source of pride, especially when the two of you were so far away.

Still, he ached, wanting to feel your skin against his. He wanted to pull you into his embrace and let you relax in his arms as you both bask in the afterglow together. He wanted to feel your head resting on his chest, your soft hair brushing against his cheek, his lips on yours.

He sighed.

Several minutes passed as the two of you tried to even your breathing again. Sylus was the first to speak up, his voice soft and gentler than normal, “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“No,” you protested this time in spite of your exhaustion.

“No?” There was amusement in his voice upon hearing your objection. “Why not?”

You were grateful he couldn’t see your blush. At his gentle coaxing, you admitted softly, “I don’t want to hang up.”

“It’s late,” he reminded you again.

Hearing silence, Sylus could sense your disappointment and he softened. “Alright,” he conceded, “Do you want to keep talking? Normally this time.”

He heard an indignant yelp for the latter comment before it was followed by weak mumbling: “I don’t know what to talk about…”

“What do you want then? Tell me.”

After a few beats, you confessed softly, “I just want to hear your voice.”

Sylus was both surprised and pleased. “My voice?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then,” he started, a hint of mischievousness laced his voice, “If that is what my dear little hunter wants, then who am I to deny her this sweet request? Shall I lull you to sleep with my voice then?”

Your felt butterflies fluttering in your belly as he spoke. You knew he was relishing in this moment, but as embarrassing as it was for you, you were happy that he was so compliant.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said warmly, and you obediently followed his command, setting your phone close to you as you relaxed in bed. “And just listen to the sound of my voice…”

[wwaheoh]

Can I request for shy gn s/o asking Lycaon if they can touch his tail please?

“Can I Touch Your Tail?” Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader

Nekomata, Von Lycaon, Ellen Joe

a/n: added Nekomata and Ellen!

... A fairly common question that came with varying answers. Tails, ears, and all extra appendages that Therians were born with were seen differently by those with them. Some would think of them similar to an arm or a leg while others would be more sensitive, putting higher emphasis on them, granting the privilege of touching their extra appendage to close friends- a sign of trust. 

So asking this question to someone you considered being very close with was an ultimate test of trust. Maybe you did or didn’t have this in mind when asking- only asking out of naive curiosity, yet to them it’d be a pretty high-tier test of trust and how they viewed your relationship.

“Nyahh? Where’s this come from?” Nekomiya turned to you, still munching on a mackerel as she spoke. “Hmm…” She thought for a second before smiling and nodding. “Okay, sure! Just don’t pull!”

You nodded, happy that she allowed you this privilege. Slowly you leaned forward and softly pressed down on the feline-Therian’s gray tail, feeling the soft short fur that were usually covered by the protective sleeve she wore. Nekomiya purred, ear twitching as she felt your hands caress her sensitive tails, shivering and wagging with giddiness- always so protective of her Therian appendages, it felt nice to have someone pet them- at least someone she trusted. 

Nekomiya would usually say yes if you asked her, only saying no when around other people- since some would take it as an open invitation or when they were sleeved, though that was usually when in Hollows or out in public. 

“Of course.” Lycaon spoke warmly, his voice the same cool even tone it always was. Yet as you attempted to pet his tail, it became a tall order, as every time you reached for it, the tail wagged wildly- nearly hitting you in the face with fluff. But once you finally got a handle on it, it felt soft, obviously impeccably taken care of, nothing less for Lycaon.

You pet it softly, small ‘Ooh’s and ‘Aahs’ as you felt the soft silver fur under your fingertips, running your hands with utmost care as to not accidentally cause any discomfort. Looking up to the Therian, you noticed his ears twitching, a satisfied smile on his face, a small hum of satisfaction as you pet him. 

A small part of him wished for you to continue, even as you let go and went back to whatever responsibilities you had. If you ever asked to pet him, as long as it wasn’t on the clock- though it was still debatable, he would happily allow it. 

“Huh?” She looked up from her phone, lollipop tilted slightly upward and tapping stopping, her usual bored look being sharper than before. Oh she was very familiar with people asking to touch her tail, being something incredibly big- a little over the length of her entire leg and the circumference of a dinner plate, it got a ton of attention wherever she went. Classmates, children, and weirdos at work would ask to touch, and she’d always tell them no. If they tried to forcefully touch her, she'd give em a good wack- not the children though, usually able to just move it away from their reach. Though at work, Lycaon was pretty good at being there at the right moment, kicking out any unruly customers or finding a way to tell them to buzz off in that professional manner that she couldn’t care enough to do.

Though she thought of it for a bit, the two of you were pretty close and you weren’t like the other weirdos, eh, if she didn’t like it then she’d just tell you. “Sure.” She leaned a little to give space for her tail. As your hand made contact with it, a small jolt went through her- unused to allowing people to touch her. “AhhhHhhh~...” You quickly pulled your hand back, worried that you'd done something wrong. “Oi, I didn’t say stop.” It felt as though she had become more annoyed that you stopped petting her tail than when you asked the question…

Ellen would be apprehensive but if the two of you were close enough, she’d let you touch it every once in a while. Usually away from other people, definitely not at school or at work. 

[giuseppe-yuki]

🍕 pizza delivery 🍕

frat boy!logan sargeant x pizza delivery driver!reader

w.c.: 1.6k

warnings: like, two curse words. that's it.

summary: logan hunter sargeant from alpha phi kappa either really fucking likes pizzas or has a big fat crush on you. maybe both.

picture credits from pinterest :)

honestly, was prema’s pizza that good? sure, it might have been made with sauce from vine-picked tomatoes, hand-grated cheese, and italian-sourced pepperonis, but was it good enough for someone to order a grand total of fifty pizzas within a five day period? probably not. 

still, you stand corrected, because the unmistakable order receipt, a carbon copy of the one from yesterday, again, states the same order: 10 x-large pepperoni pizza - extra cheese.

it cannot be healthy eating this many pizzas per day. 

nevertheless, you hurriedly rip the receipt from prema pizza’s tiny, half-broken printer and head past the front of house towards the kitchen to fetch the order to deliver. the yeasty smell of fresh dough and aroma of garlic bread intensifies as you slide between a few employees and squeeze into the kitchen. to your surprise, a neat stack of exactly ten pizza boxes are placed on the counter, along with a sticky note with your name on it. 

frederik, one of the longtime pizza makers, nods his head in greeting at you before pointing towards the stack. 

“arthur told me to tell you that he stacked all of your orders over there before he clocked out for the day,” frederik notes, before turning back to rolling out the pizza dough. there’s somehow a glob of dough in his hair and flour in the shape of a hand imprint on his back, but you pretend you don’t notice.

instead, you beam at him and give him a mock salute. 

“thanks, fred!” you respond. “it’s actually just one whole order, though.”

he whips around, brow wrinkled.

“one order?? who hell is this guy??”

you shrug, and instead turn your attention to shoving as many pizza boxes as you can into one warmer bag. as hard as you try, you can probably get a max of three in the bag. 

“eh, don’t remember his name.” you say dismissively. “kinda cute, blonde hair, blue eyes? he’s been ordering the same thing for the past five days, though.” 

frederik wipes his dough-covered hands on his apron before snatching up the receipt you set on the counter. 

nosy fuck.

“okay, well, why is this kinda-cute, blonde hair, blue eyed-” he squints at the name on the paper- “logan sargeant possibly having a twenty person pizza party every day?” 

oscar, the main cook, stops his rapid throwing of pizzas into the oven and perks up when hears the name.

“logan sargeant?” he asks, head tilted in question. “i swear he’s in my tuesday morning english lectures- i’m kind of mates with him. he’s literally so american, though. perhaps that’s why he’s obsessed with pizzas- all that typical american culture and stuff.” 

frederik “hmms”, tapping his chin exaggeratedly.

“i think, he has a big fat crush on our little pizza delivery girl here- why else would he order, like, a billion pizzas? plus, it’s not like oscar here does our pizzas any justice when he’s out here hurtling ingredients onto pizzas then shoving them into the oven at top speeds.”

you roll your eyes before snatching the receipt back from frederik. 

“you don’t get to have an opinion on anything pizza related- we still remember you’re a psycho who likes pineapple on pizza,” you shoot back. 

oscar laughs at your words and throws a handful of flour from the dough board at frederik’s head.  

“yeah, fred, pineapple on pizza is a crime, mate.”

by the time you split up fred and oscar from having a full blown fight with the pizza ingredients, shove all the pizza boxes into your warmer bags, and arrive at the allotted house, you are sure you are about to get yelled at by kinda-cute-logan-sargeant for being late with his absurd amount of pizzas. 

the warmer bags weigh down your arms and you basically teeter towards the door that has the same ugly hand-painted, peeling sign that you had eyed up the first time you delivered the pizzas. it crudely labels the house as the frat house “alpha phi kappa.” you take account the other things on the porch as you wait-

three empty beer bottles. 

one tattered miami dolphins’ football flag.

two beat-up traffic cones. 

one upside down, dusty, motorcycle-looking helmet with a giant american flag printed on the side.

four broken string lights + one working string light.

one questionably green couch that had a giant spring coming ou-

the door creaks open suddenly and the porch light comes on, effectively startling you and blinding you at the same time.

a guy with bleached-blonde hair sticks his head out, eyeing you wearily. one of his eyebrows has a sharp slit in his eyebrow, leaving a clean gap in the arch. 

“yeah?” he asks, as if you haven’t been at this god forsaken frat house for the now-fifth time in a row.

“oh-” you stutter out. “i’m- i’m here with your pizzas? um, for logan?” 

he breaks out in a wide grin immediately, before shoving the door open with a bang. 

“oh, well why didn’t you say so?” he jokes, tilting his head to the side. he pats his forest-green hoodie, obviously looking for his phone, but when he comes up with nothing, he lift one finger towards you. 

“give me one second, let me get logan for you,” he says, before bolting away.

the door is still wide open, so you just stand there uncomfortably in the open doorway. you can literally see their entire floorplan, from the semi-trashed living room to the cluttered kitchen, to even the backyard sliding door that leads to a glowing swimming pool. a dude you are pretty sure is franco from your mechanical physics class stalks by the stairwell next the door, sipping something that looks suspiciously like maté. you give him an awkward wave that he returns.

a minute later, the blonde guy thunders down the stairs, dragging a concerningly red-faced, kinda-cute-logan with him.

“okay, here’s logan for ya,” the guy says, beaming once more, before full-on galloping back up the stairs. 

“al-right,” you drag out. tearing your eyes away from whatever that was, you face logan, who has somehow turned more red than before. “your pizza?” 

you slide all ten boxes towards him, making sure to open the lid of the first one to show him pizza one of ten that was handcrafted to meet his specific needs- x-large pepperoni with extra cheese.

logan barely looks at the pizza before giving you a quick thumbs up. 

“yeah, that’s um, perfect! you know me too well, haha.” 

you begin to see where this is going. maybe frederik was right.

raising an eyebrow, you nod. 

“well, considering this is your fifth consecutive order in a five day period…yeah.”

logan leans against the doorframe, obviously trying to look cool. 

“what can i say? your pizza is.. um… top-tier. like if it was a race, it would go, like first place podium over all the other pizza places.” 

before you can respond, a car swerves into the driveway of the frat house. a guy with the fluffiest brown hair you have ever seen climbs out the car. when he sees you with the pile of pizzas in the doorway with logan next to you, a devilish grin spreads across his face. 

“ah, it’s the pizza delivery girl, eh, cabrón?” he remarks to logan. turning to you, he cups a hand dramatically around his mouth like he was telling a secret. “did logan here tell you about his pizza shrine?” he asks, before squeezing past the two of you into the house. 

logan’s eyes widen almost immediately.

“CARLOS, no-”

 a what? 

this must be a joke, right?

alas, when you tilt your head into the doorway, past logan who was trying to look inconspicuous, you spot it. 

a corner of the freaking frat house was turned into a pizza shrine. each one had multiple sticky notes on them, one of them reading: “great delivery today, she smiled at me.” and “her laugh is cute.” in scrawled, messy handwriting. 

ok, frederik was definitely right.

“so, uh… do you typically do this with all your pizza delivery girls?” you interrogate, fighting back a smile. 

logan looks at you with visible panic. 

“wait, wait, i can explain!”

carlos, or whatever his name is, yells from inside the house. 

“HE EVEN FRAMED THE RECEIPT FROM THE FIRST TIME YOU DELIVERED! IT’S ABOVE THE FIREPLACE!”

the blonde in front of you huffs, one hand covering his face in embarrassment. 

“i’m gonna kill him,” he mutters. 

you laugh at his reaction, feeling oddly endeared by the presence of the literal shrine and apparent framed receipt atop the frat house fireplace.

“do you even like prema pizza?” you gently question.

logan scratches his head sheepishly. 

“i mean, the pizza is cool an all that, but like, you’re like, um, cooler.”

well, logan couldn’t be more apparent. if he wasn’t going to make a move, though, you would. you couldn’t keep making pizza deliveries forever. 

you pull out your phone. 

“if you, you know, ever want to hang out- without the pizza excuse, just text me okay?” 

logan looks like he’s about to implode. 

he nods aggressively, before taking at least two tries to type his phone number with the speed he’s trying to input his contact info. 

“a pizza shrine??” arthur shouts, voice blaring from your phone. “ugh!! why do i always miss these things when i go home! -and then what happened?”

frederik laughs from his spot next to oscar, huddled close in a semi-circle around you in the dark, the only light coming from the call on your phone.

“and then, he gave her his number, that’s what, arthur. because i was right!” frederik trills, leaping around the just-cleaned kitchen of the empty pizzeria. “i just knew that it wasn’t because he liked the pizzas here.” 

oscar rolls his eyes. 

“well, i’m just saying it could be a factor, frederik.”

just then, your phone lights up with a ding.

logan 🇺🇸🍕: are you down for a pizza date? i actually do really like prema pizza.

oscar leaps up with a celebratory shriek, directed at frederik.

“ha! i was right too!”

general taglist: @ellelabelle @n0vazsq

[villascaletta]

kiss it better || scaletta

summary - vito comes home beat up, and his wife kisses it better 𐙚

warnings - talk of blood, referring to death, obviously very cliche plot but it's a classic so...

the clock ticked, it was one in the morning. your sprawled over the couch, book resting on your chest as you've fallen asleep waiting for your husband.

minutes later, vito stumbles into the front door, staggering as he walked in. he removes his coat, his gaze following your sleeping figure on the couch and sighs at the sight that you fell asleep waiting for him.

he kneels down, looking at you fondly. he presses his lips on your forehead, a gentle kiss. you stir awake from the movement, your eyes opening slowly seeing his own blue ones. "vito..?"

"hey, dollface." he spoke gently, his eyes looking into yours. after taking a moment to regain vision, you looked at him properly.

your eyes widened, gasping. his tie was all stained with blood, traveling to his neck. he had smears of it on his cheek, a tear in his shirt with a large gash, and his knuckles were all bloody.

"vito, you're hurt!" you hurriedly stood up, he stood up along me, albeit with more struggle. vito grunts, holding his hand to his guts.

"it's nothing i can't handle, doll." he says smugly, as though he was trying to not make you worry. you rolled your eyes, rummaging through cabinets for a med kit.

"sit down." you said, gently pushing him to the chair with the kit in hand. he grunts softly, obeying and sat back down.

"you bossier than falcone himself." he said, his voice low. he leans back and rests against the back of the chair, exhaustion creeping up to him.

"what happened to you?" you wiped the blood on his cheeks as you spoke, trailing down to his neck. loosening his blood stained tie, you carefully took his white dress-shirt off.

vito's voice was gruff, his eyes slightly closing at the feel of the rag against his face. "things just didn't go... as planned." he spoke vaguely.

you looked at him pointedly before sighing, his vagueness is what keeps you safe from his business, but it doesn't help having to see him like this.

"is this blood all yours?" you spoke, throat heavy. vito shook his head no, readjusting his position on the couch. your eyes scanned over the gash on his bicep, hands slightly grazing it.

vito winced slightly, making you retract your hand. "this is going to hurt, sweetheart..." you spoke timidly, the cloth with antiseptic in it hovering over his gash. he flinched once it made contact, hissing in pain.

"gah, i kill people for a living and i get taken down by some fuckin' antiseptic." vito says lightly, a tone of humor as he looked at you gently. you can't help but smile as you looked up at him, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

you looked into his dark blue eyes as you continued mending his wound. "you still find the guts to joke around right now, hm?"

he chuckles, his arm hard from bracing for the disinfectant. only minutes later, the gash was patched up.

you took his pajama shirt out, ushering him to raise his hands and helped him get dressed again. he catches you, hooking his arm around your waist to pull you into his lap. vito kisses you on the temple, making you blush into his touch.

"always taking care of me, doll..." he spoke, his voice low and husky.

"who would, if i didn't?" you retort back, looking at him with a knowing look in your eyes. he chuckles at that, his head lowering.

vito's lips pressed onto your forehead, a sloppy but sweet kiss. "that you're right about... i'm lucky to have you, doll." his words made you smile, eyes looking into his with admiration.

"i love you, vito... you need to be more careful next time! stop testing your luck." you spoke, whining as you slightly smacked his shoulder. he chuckles again, taking it lightly.

he takes his hand into yours, kissing the knuckles of your hand. "i love you, doll. i promise i'll try to be safer." you nodded, listening to his words.

"now, how about we just go to bed eh? wanna sleep with my darling." he said, his arm on your shoulder as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, tickling you. you chuckled, a soft endearing look on your face and nodded.

"alright, sweetheart. let's get some sleep."

[navybrat817]

Too early, Navy. I want cuddles with Stud.

I understand that feeling, nonnie.

A Bit Longer

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You need to get up, but Bucky wants to hold you for a bit longer. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I really need to stop with the cuddle ficlets, right? Eh. Stud and Smartie, deserve it. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s lips were the first thing you felt when you woke up, bringing a smile to your face. They grazed your shoulder as his arm tightened around your waist, keeping your back against his chest. It was a subtle way to say he wasn’t ready for you to leave the confines of your bed. Or maybe he was the one who didn’t want to leave yet.

Not that you blamed him. It was early. Maybe too early. Cuddling for a bit was always a good way to start the day, his embrace warmer than the thickest blanket. Sex also worked as a way to both wear you out and energize you to tackle the day.

Cuddle, hot sex, cuddle again. Wait, what time is it?

“Okay. We need to get up,” you croaked when you finally looked at the clock, trying in vain with a groan to break from his hold when he refused to move his arm or let you up. Any other morning, you’d wiggle back against him to give him a proper wake up call, but that wasn’t today. “I mean it. No time for sexy time. I need to make you breakfast. Feed the cats. You have to work. God, I need to look over my resume again. Work on wedding stuff. I also need to-”

The throaty chuckle beside you stopped your ramblings because how could it not? Why was his laughter so sexy? Why did his mere existence make you stop in your tracks? In what universe was that right or fair?

Actually, it’s fair because I get to marry him.

“First, there’s always time for sexy time. Two, you didn't say ‘good morning’. By the way, good morning,” he teased, turning your body to face him. “And three, hey, look at me. Let’s just stay in bed for another minute.”

Your eyes slipped shut because there would be no resisting if you stared into his. His gaze had a way of pulling you in so deeply some days you feared you'd drown. But if he ever robbed you of your ability to breathe, he’d find a way to give you air.

“Too much to do,” you muttered. You could feel the seconds slipping away and now wasn’t the time to lounge around. “And if I look at you, you’ll turn one minute into two and then three and then four and so on and so forth and such and what have you. I probably wasted a minute just saying that.”

You tried to back up a bit because no way did your breath smell pleasant and Bucky didn’t need that in his face. A hand moved to the back of your head to keep you still. He didn’t have to tell you that he didn’t care about things like morning breath. If he wanted to hold you close, he’d do just that.

No exceptions.

He chuckled again before his lips brushed your eyelids and skimmed down your cheeks. “I just want you to stay here so I can hold you for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask?”

Well, when you put it like that…

You swallowed hard when he kissed the corner of your mouth, your heart skipping a beat. You were certain an embarrassing sort of whimper slipped out when he brought his lips to the other side. He wasn't rushing or demanding anything from you or trying to turn you on. He just wanted to be there with you.

So many believed that intimacy was just sex when it was much more. It was the feeling of being close and emotionally connected. It was familiarity and even friendship. You liked Bucky from the start, but the two of you were able to build a foundation by getting to know each other. It allowed you to bond on many levels, which only grew stronger once you two became a couple.

He showed you once again, without words, that he was your other half.

“I can feel you thinking, Smartie,” he whispered, his lips trailing back to your forehead.

“Just thinking of us, Stud,” you admitted, pressing your body closer to feel his chest against yours. You breathed him into your lungs and wondered if he knew how addictive he was. Savoring the moment, you allowed yourself to stay tangled up in him before you had to face the day.

His hand moving up and down your side nearly lulled you back to sleep. “You thinking about how you drive me crazy?”

What?

“I drive you crazy?!” You asked, realizing your mistake the moment your eyes flew open. A sea of blue stared back at you and you were too late to stop yourself from taking the plunge. Your gaze didn't have to drift down to know that he was wearing a triumphant smirk. “You made me open my eyes.”

“I sure did,” he smiled.

Well played, Stud. Well played.

The things you had to do seemed almost insignificant as you looked at each other. A minute went by as you listened to the beat of his heart and made no attempt to get up. The tips of your fingers brushed along the scruff on his chin as another minute ticked by and you reveled in the sigh he gave you in return.

Is this what living in the moment means?

“Will it always be like this?” You asked.

“Always like what?”

“You wanting to stay in bed with me a bit longer, even if we both have stuff to do.”

With a kiss to the tip of your nose and one against your smiling lips, he smiled back. “Always.”

Logically, you knew every morning couldn't be this way since life wasn't a fairy tale. The romantic part of you though, the one he helped bring to life, believed the two of you would continue to write your story together and make your own rules. If that meant the two of you cuddled in bed for a few more minutes, you’d happily help him write that chapter.

And every chapter after that.

Where do I get a man like this? 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi