#there's a bit where you talk to him and you have to select a specific option if i remember right and it's like. ah.

[lvllns]

hm. one could, in theory, argue that rook's personality being relatively even across all options (slightly sarcastic, not as mean as some people wanted) is because of solas.

lean into the element of horror. the lack of control. lean into you have the elvhen god of trickery in your head and you want to be mean to someone but you can't. you think the words you want to say yet something else entirely comes out. you want to be mean, to tear this person to shreds, to call them an idiot and instead words form on your tongue, and you don't know where they came from.

[sturnsdoll]

NAUGHTY OR NICE ❄ -m.s, c.s

part two here

pairing: dom bf!matt x sub!reader, dom!chris x reader

summary: when your boyfriend matt decides that a vibrator at dinner with his brothers is a good punishment for your attitude, you don't expect to end up being teased by someone other than him. warnings: vibrator, semi-public, cheating!reader, fingering, dirty talk, humiliation, orgasm denial.

word count: 3,598

"pink" + reader speaking, "blue" = matt speaking, "orange" = chris speaking.

matt and you are supposed to meet his brothers for dinner in about a half an hour. swiping gloss across your lips, you watch through the mirror at matt idly pacing around behind you. he's picking up random things, checking himself in the mirror. your used to it, he's typically like this before going out anywhere. you close up your gloss, tossing it down onto your vanity with an exaggerated sigh.

with that matt looks over at you, annoyance already on his features "what now?", his tone is soft but still holds irritation. all damn day everything's been a problem for you. and when something upsets you, it somehow becomes a him problem too.

you give him a bit of a side eye in the mirror, a slight eye roll to follow "nothin', jeez." you respond passively, getting up to go grab your purse and matt continues watching you with a dissaproving look. "there a problem?" you add with a raise of your brow. matt shrugs "you gonna be like this all night?" he asks, slightly amused but also a little over the attitude you've been throwing at him today. he watches your pretty eyes when you look back at him "i'm not being like anything." you defend. directly after your defence, you bend down to pickup your purse and hear matt sigh with a "that's it". -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the drive there, all you could do was wait. wait to see when he'd chose to torture you. the silicone of the vibrator was tightly fit between your panties and your (already embarrassingly wet) pussy, specifically nudging your clit too close for comfort. when you matt pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant you, him and his brothers were gonna be meeting at for dinner, he refused to acknowledge your anxious glances toward him any time he'd open his phone. every tap of his fingers against the screen had you anticipating the buzzing against your clit, but thus far he hasn't done it hasn't come.

entering the restaurant, you were in awe of the gorgeous christmas decor of green and red around the restauraunt. cinnamon sticks in a little bowl with bows around them on the front desk, a green tree off near the hall to the washrooms, chandelier with lights. it's gorgeous.

you were both lead to your table where nick and chris were already sat laughing and talking. there wasn't much greeting to be done, you just kind of took a seat across from them with matt next to you and hopped into conversation smoothly with your boyfriends brothers.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the food was amazing, everyone having a great time. chris and nick are your bestfriends by natural selection of matt being your boyfriend so you've grown to be comfy around them. not this comfy though. it was still in the back of your mind that matt was more than capable of turning the toy on whenever the hell he pleased but till now, you'd done a good job just trying to enjoy dinner and forget about it.

currently you're mid conversation with chris, giggling at something stupid he said when abruptly, you go silent. the buzz that comes to your clit is low, gentle. but it's still beyond distracting. you can't help how your eyes grow wide for a moment as you swallow thickly. fucking matt.

chris catches your sudden change of expression and mood. he makes a funny confused face in response to your expression, breathily laughing "what?" in question. now chris is thinking maybe he'd said something outlandish and not realized it.

chris catching the change in your mood only makes your stomach drop further. you deadstare your boyfriend's youngest brother, zoned out in embarassment, feeling clueless on how to respond when there's a god damn vibrator on you in public. but your strange behaviour was cut short by matt's slender ring clad fingers giving a squeeze to your knee. quickly taking the hint, you smile with a soft laugh "oh i just remembered last week when that lady refused to give nick his order cause she thought he was lying about it being his" your almost proud of yourself for thinking of something so fast.

chris seems to believe it, responding with a small "hm". however despite his smile and nod, chris has this slightly intense stare, different from his usually childish and playful demeanour. you assume your paranoid because how would chris know something was up?

"omg and then she did the same thing to that poor girl!" nick's voice breaks your curiosity of chris's stare. your sure you can handle this for a little, just a light buzz. but quite abruptly the buzzing intensifies. you grab at matt's hand, nails digging against the back of his palm as you force yourself to respond to nick with a short and shaky "yeah." it only eggs matt on though, he thinks your reactions are adorably pathetic. before nick can even really notice how shaky your voice was, the waiter approached the table to ask if anyone needed anything. you leave nick and chris to speak to the waiter, taking the chance to look at your boyfriend with a look that shows your embarassment and irriation. in response you just get a sickeningly sweet smile, one that causes you to shut your legs together, frustration and arousal driving you udderly insane.

before your knee's can even touch he pinches your thigh, his smile dropping slightly in warning. "fuck you" you mouth to him stupidly. matt gives a playful pout, forcibly pulling your leg so that you spread em', preventing you from any relief outside of what he chooses to provide you through the toy. "you really gonna act like that when santa's coming to town?" he jokes quietly, almost laughing at his own dumbass joke but instead his mouth just turns up in a slight smile, then you watch him take a quick glance at his phone.

holy fuck. you nearly fold over at the leg tremling, panty wettingly intense buzz that he suddenly inflicts on your clit. your acrylics immedietly digging into his hand again, you look over and catch his amused and adoring glance to you. that evil bastard fucking loves this. it's a bit of a power trip for him to watch you squirming in your seat, all angry at him.

matt's gaze was doing nothing to help, merely mocking you. in a desperate attempt to not give anything away, your teeth caught your lip with a gasp before any other lewd noise could escape. you shift your hips uncomfortably as your eyes leave matt's to see if his brothers are paying any mind to you two.

you felt relief at nick's typical yapping, he was clearly clueless to your situation. but then your eyes meet chris's.

he's clenching his jaw slightly with an unreadable but intense look in his eyes. what's his problem? well, apparently your body doesn't care what his glare is for, because it's enough for your poor neglected cunt to start to clench around nothing besides the pooling liquid dripping into your panties.

you let out a shaky breath that's just shy of a whine. lucky for you it's loud as hell in the restaurant. you mentally curse yourself for letting something as simple as a look from your boyfriends brother get you worked up. then again, what won't get you hornier with that god forsaken buzzing that has you struggling to sit still? you're about to resort to distracting yourself with nick's yapping when the buzzing abruptly cuts short.

you almost let out a sigh of relief. finally a break.

then your jaw drops and your knee jumps up and hits under the table. you didn't even know this vibrator could be this strong.. but as matt tortorously turns it to the highest setting, you can't stop the small whine from slipping your throat.

in panic you look between the three boys. nick is somehow still oblivious, thank god. matt's too busy pretending like he isn't literally getting you off infront of his brothers as he picks at his food. chris is also presumably distracted with his meal, though he shoots you a questioning glance when your eyes pass over him.

clearing your throat, you quickly stand up, announcing that you have to go to the bathroom. you rush right off before anyone can say anything.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

before you can even close the bathroom door you hear a ding from your phone. taking a second, you take a deep breath and squeeze your thighs together with a soft whine, eyes shutting as you dig your phone from your purse.

[ imessage from: matt <3]

-if you turn it off , touch yourself or cum then you're in trouble sweetheart. pathetically so, just reading his threatening text has your knee's weak. you lean one hand forward onto the counter, your thighs clenching tighter together.

[message to: matt <3]

-please it's too much. chris and nick are gonna find out if i come back out there like this

[message from: matt <3]

-behave or i'll make you cum infront of both of them istg

the lewd image of being forced into an orgasm infront of chris at the dinner table creates both a humiliating and pleasurable ache in your stomach. trying to force the thought away hardly worked, already dripping at the thought.

you have to compose yourself. that thought must only be arousing because your so desperate right?.. right.

you look yourself in the mirror, passing off your glossy eyes as you breathe in deeply. you reach your hand beneath your dress to pull your panties down just a little so the vibrator isn't so tightly pressed against you. insantly you sigh in relief at the severly lessened stimulation. straightening yourself out, mentally you prep yourself to get back to the group, opening the bathroom door with the best poker face you can put on.

instantly you're met with two hands roughly shoving you back inside the washroom, the door being locked instantly.

"what the hell are you two up to?"

you swear you experience whiplash at the complete shock as you look up at chris with confusion. chris is staring right back down at you with an almost proud but soft little smile on his face. "hello?" he gives a gentle tap to your arm to urge you to talk. you just shake your head, feeling bewildered "nothing?" you don't even sound sure of yourself when your respond.

chris tilts his head to give you a stare of annoyance at the blatant lie. little did you know that chris had figured you two out much much earlier. his voice comes more accusatory than he intends "you think i'm stupid?" he asks.

you stare up at chris, trying to look irritated at his intrusion into the bathroom but honestly your eyes are that of a lost puppy as the buzzing in your underwear is still growing the ache in your stomach. your legs are squeezing as you struggle to not completely lose it. "and?" you try to seem unphased but there's a shake to your tone.

"and-" he begins in a mocking tone "i know matt doesn't have some fucking vibrator app for himself." he finishes with a cocky yet still adoringly soft look as he watched the panic in your eyes. chris doesn't want to scare you away so his hand starts at your shoulder, thumb gently stroking your shoulder to soothe the panic that's coming with your brain completely short circuiting.

you want to ask how he knows that but chris steps a little closer and you back against the sink counter, both slightly intimidated as well as just udderly so confused you can't really think properly. chris's voice break's into your frozen state "you guys have some freaky thing for getting off in public?" he questions you.

"what? no that's-" chris doesn't quite seem 100 percent sure of himself, almost like he's slightly scared that you'll just think he's a complete weirdo so he keeps his movements slow and his voice stays on the softer side as he speaks to you "you got yourslef in trouble or something then?" he asks tauntingly. his eyes glitter with amusement when he watches you freeze up. looking around, your mouth opens again and again like you wanna argue or deny it but instead you just scoff in disbelief, your eyes rolling at his audacity.

that was enough of an answer for him. he lets out a small hum in acknowledgement, like he's amused by you being punished by his brother. his hand slowly slides down from your arm to the bottom hem of your dress. you find yourself unable to do anything but follow his movement with your eyes, a small breathy whine leaving as the buzzing in your panties continues to make this all the more arousing.

"getting off with your boyfriends brother less than a foot away at dinner is kind fucked up not gonna lie." as chris speaks he uses his other hand to pull the fabric of your dress at the waist, tugging it up a little until you're just barely covered below the waist. his thumb slips beneath the material to rub gentle circles on your thigh "this okay? you tell me to stop and i'll leave n' pretend like this never happened, i promise." his eyes give a comfortingly concerned look, his hand freezing momentarily.

you severly hesitate, a shaky breath leaving your lips, feeling the slick spreading all across your pussy, panties and upper thigh from the nonstop vibrations on your sensitibe bud, now combined with chris's teasing. this is all too much at once. you're starting to feel lightheaded, not knowing how much longer you can hold off either crying or cumming right here on the spot. "matt would mm- hate me chris" you worry verbally to the youngest triplet. chris just shakes his head, chosing to lighten the mood with a joke as per usual "don't worry about him right now. you gonna be naughty or nice for me? cause santa doesn't have to be the only thing coming if you'll let me touch you." there's a shit eating grin on his lips now as he slips his hand just a litter further under your dress.

under other circumstances you would've laughed at his terrible joke. instead you meet his eyes, a suble smile on your face. you know you need to make a decision. guilt bubbles in your stomach, as well as the need to cum. your arousal speaking before you can, you blurt out a "please" your eyes begging chris right along with your words.

chris instantly smirks, stepping closer till there's nearly no more of your space for him to invade "so polite." he teases, his knuckles softly brushing up her thigh till he reaches her panties, where he pauses, his knuckles brushing along the fabric to feel the vicious buzzing. experimentally he uses two fingers to press it up against her clit just a little closer.

your hands both come behind you to grip at the counter top as your legs twitch, unable to hold off your physical reaction to the torture anymore. "ah-" you cry gently as one hand comes off the counter to grip at his arm, not to stop him but for some kind of support.

chris tuts at you "poor thing, bet he's been neglecting you all night" chris says, more so to himself as he shakes his head in genuine dissapointment of his brothers teasing tactics. then in a swift motion, his finger hooks around the front of your panties and tugs them down to your thighs. finally, the vibrator comes off of you. chris's eyes lock on yours for affirmation to continue and he finds your eyes pleading with him already.

you have the sudden thought.. why hasn't matt come to check on you at this point? or texted? your thoughts are quickly are ripped from your head when the buzzing returns once more, chris placing his palm over the vibrator, pressing it right onto your poor swollen clit again.

a strangled moan is forced loudly from your lips at the overstimulating feeling coming back all at once, your back arches off the counter as you look down, shaking your head. "chris no wait- fuckk, i'm gonna cum" you beg for him to stop, but not because you don't want to. for some reason your willing to sleep with matt's brother but you draw the line at cumming without his permission?? pussy.

chris watches as your hips squirm back against the counter, your face scrunched up like you can't take it. he raises an eyebrow at your panic and he subtly smiles, too sweet for the situation your both in. "so?" he urges an explanation with confusion and amusement at your struggle.

you look away from him, nails digging into his arm as embarassment eats you alive at your reason why. chris is having none of it though. he leans down to force you to meet his gaze in demand of an answer. a whine slips when you go to speak, but you manage nonetheless. "not allowed." you state, your eyes finally meeting chris's again.

he's enthralled by your obedience to matt's 'rules' and the guilty little look in your eyes. chris sighs, shaking his head as he brings his free hand to gently cup the side of your face "well i say you are, so go ahead." he says like this is completely normal.

before you can even consider responding, two of his fingers shove into your fluttering hole, his palm still pressing the toy to your clit. you cry out at the attention to your poor pussy that you've been craving all night, hips pushing off the counter to chase chris's hand. whines and choked sobs leave your lips.

chris taps the underside of your jaw "someone's gonna hear ya" he points out with a warning look, then his fingers curl up into your walls to force another response from you. and oh does it ever. you lean your head forwards into his chest with a desperate whine that makes chris's jeans grow a little tighter on him.

he gently cradles the back of your head with his large hand as he talks you through it "oh i knoww." he says with a mocking tone to his voice, a devilish smirk on his face that you can't see as he holds your face into the chest of his hoodie to muffle your cries of pleasure.

"g- gonna fucking- oh god chris" your brain is so far from working as he fucks his fingers into you, alternating between curling them at the perfect spot inside and then thrusting them quickly. the sound of you saying his name is enough to have his dick fighting against his pants. he wants nothing more than to stuff you full of him but this isn't about him, the only thing he needs right now is to watch you hold onto him pathetically whilst crying his name for more.

with the hand cradling your head, his fingers gently massage your scalp. the soothing nature is a vile contrast to the way his other hand completely ruins you. this only furthers the haze of euphoria your in, whining desperately as you clutch onto chris for life. if it weren't for him and the counter you'd be a puddle on the floor and chris knows it as he feels your walls squeezing in desperation for release. he knows that's his cue.

you experience the most horrible whiplash as within a second, chris's hand comes out from under your dress, the vibrator with it and all your left with is your cum dripping out of your fluttering hole.

instantly your head lifts off chris's chest. you watch up at him with pleading eyes "chris." you hate how you sound begging for his attention back.

the hand not holding your now turned off, soaked vibrator, is soothing your hair out. he holds the vibrator up to your mouth, tapping it onto your pouted lips. shamefully you open your mouth, allowing him to urge the toy inside for you to clean it of your own mess.

chris's eyes glimmer with satisfaction as he watches your gaze, eager to please him in favour of needing to cum. which is why you nearly wanna cry when he removes his other hand from your hair and brings it down to pull your panties back up, slipping the now completely still vibrator back into the fabric.

"i'm sorry pretty, but the only thing i want more than to watch you cum is to know you'll be left on edge all night thinking about me instead of him" chris states with a grin, giving a frustratingly casual pat to your shoulder before unlocking the door and opening it to leave. you're about to pull him back and cuss him the fuck out when suddenly you see your boyfriend leaning on the wall right outside the door, shaking his head at you as chris walks passed him with a cocky smirk. it all sets in and you feel more embarassed than you ever have in your life. they fucking planned it. matt let chris come fingerfuck you like some slut.

"you're un-fucking-believable." matt states, although not seeming as mad as he should. you have no choice in the matter as he grabs you arm and begins both of your journey to the car.

you fell right into their trap.

.....someone's getting coal this christmas.

lmk if y'all want a part two??

tags: @pleasebendmeoverxxx @mattsrod @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @fratbrochrisgf @eyelovedher89 @bernardsbendystraws @riversandwinds @ilovemenwithlonghairr @chrissweatytoes @courta13

[quokkaholic]

Otaku Hot Boys minsung

Warnings/tags: MDNI, smut w/plot, friends to ?poly?, picking on reader, cussing, light degradation, some mxm but like its not the focus, giggly, sweet, threesome with some body worship, oral both, protected👏 p in v, subby!Han bc i can’t stop myself, dom!Lee know the dynamics only extend to the reader, shy/embarrassed reader, weeb slander. This is biased towards Han bc I too am biased towards Han. Lightly edited

Synopsis: At your weekly "otaku club" to discuss all things manga/anime with your two close friends, they seem to be a bit too interested in your recent spike in bl media enjoyment. 

Terms for you non-losers: bl/yaoi- boys love or media centered on gay relationships, gl/yuri- girls love or media centered on lesbian relationships, otaku- person consumed by their interests (typically anime, manga, video games, etc.), fujoshi-means rotten girl, it's typically a girl who is really into bl media

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Tonight is the night. The night you look forward to every week. It's your friends’ otaku club night, the night where you and your two fellow weebs get together to talk about any new media you’ve consumed typically centered around anime and manga. You've been steeped in this type of media since the moment you were introduced to it years ago. So much so that, you even became a part time worker at your local manga cafe/bookstore. Beyond supplying some extra income, the employee discount is unbeatable. At work is actually where you met the guys.

Minho wandered in one day, drawn in by the cheerful anime themes bumping through the speakers and the promise of cute, themed drinks. After ordering a pudding latte, he browsed the isles for what seemed like an eternity, long enough that you actually went to offer assistance, which you never do. Generally speaking, anime lovers aren’t the most comfortable in social situations, and you were no exception. Plus, the type of person that comes to a manga cafe tends to know what they like, or came in for a specific title. 

He had done a few laps around the place before you decided it was enough, you had to say something. You begrudgingly placed down the volume you were enjoying, being careful to keep your spot but not damage the book, as you weren’t intending to buy it. If you bought every volume of every manga you read, you’d be hugely indebted to this place, more than you already are; the owner, luckily, is cool enough to allow you to take some books home and just deduct the total from your next paycheck. Approaching the seemingly lost Minho, you greet him,

“Hi, is there something I can help you find?” your ears heating at simply having to speak to him. 

“Oh no!” he responds surprised as you have pulled him out of his mind and back to reality, 

“I’ve never been here and was just looking around; you guys have a great selection, good mix of the new, classic, and obscure,” he compliments between sips. The nerves have you briefly spacing out on the chunks of pudding rising up the straw, snapping out of it when you notice the silence. Its your turn to talk, 

“Yes, thank you, I’ll be sure to tell the owner, she’ll really appreciate that. Well—let me know if you need anything,” you rush away, retreating back to the stool behind the counter to pick up where you left off. Minho continued to look around for a while, occasionally picking up a book to read the back cover or sample the art style. He remained until he finally checked his phone, eyes bugging at the time displayed. He practically ran out the door, but not before apologizing for not buying anything and promising he would return with his roommate, and he did later that week. 

You three were not fast friends. They, like your typical customer, kept to themselves. Similar to Minho, Han’s first time in the store was spent in awe, walking up and down the same isles trying to take in the entire stock while sucking down the chocolatiest drink on the menu. After that, they were regulars. Visiting at least once a week, buying a few volumes or anime merch each but sometimes just visiting for a sweet treat of tea or coffee.

Though you never talked to them outside of your scripted retail speech, you were always happy to see them in the store. They were admittedly pleasant to look at, but beyond that they were always kind and friendly to you, and it was cute to see the best friends interact. You longed for a relationship like that. You had a few good friends, but none of them shared your interest in this form of media. You could talk about it with customers, but you could never share your unadulterated opinions or gossip about characters with the strangers. On top of being a joy to look at and interact with, the guys actually had good and diverse tastes, not just solely interested in shonen, action, and fanservice. You had actually picked up a few of the stories they had bought from you. Some you had heard of and some were definitely outside of your typical genres, but they were all shockingly good, one of them even making it into your top tier. After finishing their unknowing recommendations, you’d toy with the idea of complementing their choices, practicing what you’d say if you saw them at work. 

Of course, they would never come in on the days where you had built up the courage to say something, and you’d tell yourself you were disappointed, but it was secretly a relief. Then, when they would be there, you’d find some other reason not to say anything, maybe they looked like they were in a hurry, or were too deep in their own conversation, or you’d simply psyched yourself out of it by convincing yourself that they would be weirded out by how much attention you pay to their purchases. This went on for weeks until finally Jisung crossed that customer/employee line for you. He eagerly strode up to the counter, Minho following leisurely in toe, with the first volume of the manga you were currently enjoying at your post by the register, 

“I’ve seen you reading this series the last few times we’ve come in, is it any good?” he’d asked cooly, placing it along with a few others in front of you to ring up. His impassioned energy and deviation from your usual interaction, made your heart race and stomach flip. You didn’t or maybe couldn’t respond, just stared as he minorly fumbled around checking all his pockets for his wallet. You stayed like that for a few moments until Minho finally arrived at the counter, casually reaching into his jacket and pulling out the man's wallet and handing it to him only after bumping him with his elbow in a silent scold for misplacing the wallet for the umpteenth time. 

“Oh— yeah. It’s definitely worth a read; I have my issues with the plot, but stunning art makes up for it,” you’ve probably already said too much. You’re paid to make sales, not to be a manga critic, but Jisung doesn’t make any moves to put the book back. He just hands you his card like always, before asking,

“Really, like what?” That’s where the friendship started. That day, they stayed leaned up against the counter until the end of your shift discussing their recent reads and watches and asking your opinions on the classics to gauge how similar your tastes were, of which they were shockingly similar. Although you were nervous at first, you had built at least a little rapport with them through the months of being their cashier, and talking about a major interest of yours made it that much easier to overcome any sort of social anxiety on both yours and their parts. Even after it was time for you to head home, Minho bought you a drink from the cafe, and you all found a quiet corner to continue your discussion. This became a regular occurrence. If you were there when they came in, and they didn’t have somewhere else to be, they’d spend time nerding out with you. Eventually, they learned your schedule, and made sure to come in on your shifts to hangout. It was never an issue beyond the occasional shush from reading customers when your “friendly” debates got a bit too rowdy.

You never liked the shift manager; they were unsympathetic and rude, doing things like denying time off requests for no good reason and timing breaks just to excerpt any semblance of power they had over the other workers. They even tried to get you in trouble for reading on the job, when you first started, but luckily the owner was able to pick up on the blatant absurdity of the complaint. Since then you didn’t have any more problems with them, but at the staff meeting when they made a “completely general” and “unpointed” comment about ensuring we weren’t neglecting job duties to “flirt with hot boys”, you knew they were talking straight at you. Despite always getting all you work done and then some, you knew you had to put an end to the on-the-clock book club, or it would become an actual problem, warranted or not. 

The thought of not getting to hang out with Jisung and Minho circulated your mind non-stop after the initial embarrassment and anger over getting indirectly called out at work. Not only were you anxious to have a weird friend breakup, you were sad that you could be back to having no one to talk to about your more niche interests. They’d never seemed interested in seeing you outside of work; would this be the end?

You endlessly mulled over how to deal with it until the very second they walked through the door on your next shift, their cheery faces dropped upon laying eyes on your obviously stressed demeanor. They’d whisper something back and forth before speed walking straight over to cautiously greet you.

“Hey guys,” you say, cringing at the thought of what you’re gonna say next, “so I may have gotten in some pseudo trouble and was told I can’t hangout at work any more,” you quickly spat out, trying to get it over with as soon as possible, and they just stared back expectedly, waiting for whatever has you so visibly upset, as if you didn’t just say it.

“That’s it?” Jisung asks as almost simultaneously Minho snarkily remarked,

“It's about time. You don’t get anything done when we’re here.” sending you a mocking disappointed glare. 

“I will not stand for the slander. Maybe from the manager, but not from you. I always get my tasks done while providing satisfactory customer service. It’s usually a race against the clock after you guys leave, but it always gets done,” you drone on, finding yourself getting a little defensive at his jest causing his smirk to widen to a full smile. You’ve grown to learn that Minho enjoys playful arguments maybe a little too much, but you attempt put an end to it before it can spiral,

“Whatever, I don’t need to defend myself to you,” 

“Not me, but maybe this manager of yours,” mocking you for not standing up for yourself. He never poked fun at you before, so you know its a sign of his friendship, but as if on cue, sensing that you are taking the bait, Jisung butts back in,

“Really though is that it? Is that what has you worried?” You were the one staring back in anticipating and stunned,

“Of course I’m upset; I just said we can’t hangout anymore,” you tried to explain calmly, but you were feeling frantic due to their apparent lack of care at the idea of not talking anymore. Ji’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion before looking over to his best friend who was looking once again disappointed in you with a slow shaking of his head.

“We can’t hang out here while you’re working,” he slows down his speech emphasizing the key parts of your mandate, hoping you can gather why they aren’t worried about the future of your relationship. While you remained confused, Jisung’s forehead relaxes as his face turns to one of realization, mouth forming a perfect O before returning to his just-entered-my-favorite-bookstore smile and shrugs his shoulders to brush off your concern before he offered the most obvious solution,

 “You’ll just start coming over to our place,” he stated, as if it were nothing. He didn’t ask, it was plain to them. You weren’t exiting their life, you were entering their apartment. Minho’s lazy shaking turned to nobbing as if he had been just waiting for you two to finally catch up. That was the end of that. They quickly grabbed what they came for but did stay and chat for a little, but only to make plans for you to come to their place that weekend. 

Such was the inception of your weekly otaku club, meeting at their place once a week or having a group call when schedules got too hectic. With weekly meetings, they quickly climbed the ranks, and have become some of your best friends. This week was the first in person session you had in weeks, and you were beyond ecstatic, stopping at the store to grab drinks and desserts as they were providing the meal and snacks. Upon entering the familiar flat, you remove your shoes and head to the source of the delicious smell and friendly voices. You find the guys setting out the snack and plates for the food Minho must’ve cooked, it looks too good for Jisung to be responsible. 

After the meal, you all follow the cute book club ritual of pulling out the books you have been enjoying, and have a show and tell, even though you all already know what eachother are reading. Jisung is working through a sports drama you had recommended, and Minho explained the convoluted plot of the isekai he just got into. When it was your turn you lifted the brightly colored, second to last, volume of the series, you’ve absolutely flown through over the past week,

“I’m almost done with this romance. It’s kind of short, but I have really enjoyed it, and I feel like they took the story in a new and interesting direction,” you continue to give a brief synopsis of the story, leaving out any spoilers, in case they want to read it after you. They had a few questions about the plot and your feelings on it, but there was one blaring question they really wanted to know the answer to,

“What kind of romance?” Ji asked with an inquisitive expression, but it wasn’t pure, there was just a twinge of mischief in his eyes,

“It's an office romance,” you explain hesitantly, trying not to sound condescending as you just gave the summary. 

“Yeah?” Minho chimes in trying to draw the answer they really want out of you.

“Well the main guys are office workers, so its an adult office romance,” your statement sound more like a question as the last words pitch up and die off. You go on, thinking there’s no way they are this dense, and they aren’t, but you might be. At the mention of the main characters being guys, they share a knowing look, silently communicating something to each other, leaving you out of their telepathic conversion. 

“Don’t make it weird! I read romance about all sorts of relationships,” they have matching stupid grins as they go back to munching on their food, letting you sit in your slight embarrassment at their implicative shared look. Minho gives that look that says, he’s trying to rile you up before askings nonchalantly, as if there are no intentions behind his words, 

“Wasn’t the last series you read yaoi as well?”

“I mean yeah, but Jisung recommended it! It was a good story,” Minho just gives a grunt of acknowledgement to say ‘sure whatever’. Jisung giggles at Minho’s antics, but doesn’t comment. He looks at you with a goofy smile and slight sympathy for the teasing as he searches your face for any signs that Minho is getting to you, but he of course is not. You’re used to banter from Minho, and honestly Jisung too. Maybe being away from you for so long had softened him up a bit, or maybe it was his favorite beer you had brought a case of. 

You thought it was the alcohol that buttered Jisung up, but instead the drinks just opened the razzing flood gates. The “bl lover” schtick continues through the evening. The poking fun is usually spread evenly among you three, and if one person becomes the butt of the joke for the night, it never continues to next week so as to not make anyone the punching bag. They love to tease, but are also very considerate about not crossing the line. The hippocratic taunting continues no matter how many times you remind them of all the yuri, yaoi, and straight romances they themselves had brought to book club. Later, when you play a few rounds of video games, they add ‘fujoshi’ to the normal colorful language they use to curse your name the times you end up winning. Sometimes you guys will pick a show to watch together, and although you guys decided to forgo that tonight in favor of catching up, you still pursue the streaming sites sharing insights to for next week, and they hover over every bl they come across and jokingly suggest it or ask you opinion as if you had already seen them all, or simply just stare in your direction with raised eyebrows. 

Around the time you usually excuse yourself and head home, you are all sitting around the coffee table finishing off the beer and munching on the snacks. You begin gathering your empty cans and miscellaneous trash, and the conversation abruptly halts as Min sternly questions your actions.

“Just wanted to clean up a bit before heading out,” you explain, rising to your knees to reach for some of their garbage since you’re already headed to the kitchen.

“You should stay here,” he says matter of factly shoving another chip into his mouth and gesturing to the empty beers in your arms, taking the rational approach. Jisung, with his sweet round eyes staring up at you, chimes in with the emotional persuasion. They make a great team.

“The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

“I’ve only had four of these beers over the past few hours, plus I took the bus here anyway,” attempting to politely decline. It would be nice not having to make the commute home at this hour, but you’d hate to burden them.

“The last bus is in 20 minutes, you’d have to run to the nearest stop,” Minho makes a good point, but the cringey thought of them having to kick you out the next morning allows you to remain stubborn, but before you can refuse again, Han’s words make your heart squeeze,

“We don’t want you to leave,” now you’re definitely staying. You still take the trash to the kitchen and sort out the recycling before grabbing one more round of beers from their stash upon the guys’ request. You resume chatting over some background music, occasionally singing along. While you are far from drunk, with the alcohol in your system, it's getting harder and harder to ignore how devastatingly good looking your two friends are. It doesn’t help that their frequent whispering back and forth gives you ample uninterrupted time to gawk. They are of course closer to each other than they are with you, but it does seem like they’ve been conspiring quite a bit more than usual. 

A chaste glance from Jisung breaks your trance. He turns back to Minho and it is your turn to look anywhere but at them, studying the rug, reading the nutrition facts on your drink, admiring the wall decor, looking away until you can get your blushing under control. Your efforts were all in vain, as when you finally look back towards the men across the table, you lock eyes with them as if they were waiting for your gaze to fall on them before doing the very last thing you ever would’ve expected. They stare back at you with a look commanding your eyes to remain locked on them as they turn to each other, already closer to one another than the last time you looked their way. Minho looks down to Han’s plush lips just as his tongue peaks out to moisten them putting on a sultry show for you. Minho gives a miniscule nod before they lean closer impossibly slow to drag out your suspense. 

Are they really doing this? Talk about committed to the bit. The moment their lips meet, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, causing the corners of their connected lips to quirk up. This is exactly what they wanted. The kiss wasn’t long, but to you watching, it felt like an eternity. You tried to look away, but you just couldn't, maybe due to your own curiosity or maybe as to not disobey their silent order to watch. When they pull away a thin string of saliva still connecting them, the slightly raised corners of their spread to full faced grins at the sight of your hands shooting up to cover your flushing face.

“I think she liked it,” Jisung remarks, running his hands through his hair, pushing back the stands that fell out of place during the kiss. His typical silly, awkward self melting away leaving behind his confident, charismatic side you had seen on a few occasions, emboldened by him and his best friends scheme going just as they had hoped.

“I knew it,” Minho adds, even though you haven’t built up the courage to look at them, he sounds closer to you than before.

“She’s a freak just like we thought,” he adds, definitely closer. Once you gather the strength to uncover your face, you find your friends have moved to join you on your side of the table, one on either side near enough to feel the heat radiating off their bodies. Though they haven’t explicitly stated it, their intentions are beyond clear, their eyes hungrily wandering over you,

“Do you want this?” Minho questioned in a low and calm tone, tamping down his eagerness until you give him an answer,

“If not, we can blame this on the liquor and just move past it, pretend nothing even happened,” Jisung assures you, unable to conceal his brimming desire as well as Minho, his eyes locked on your lips as he reaches for your hand for support. Staring down at your intertwined fingers, you contemplate for a moment,

“I do, but—” you start, Minho’s hand slipping into your field to rest on your mid thigh, softly moving his fingers side to side in reassurance,

“What about our friendship? What about otaku club?” your query makes them giggle, embuing you with the strength to look up to their eyes. They are quick to answer, as if they prepared for this exact question beforehand, Jisung talks first,

“Nothing has to change if we don’t want it to,” he speaks into your hair as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss to the side of your skull, when Minho picks up where he left off,

“We really like you y/n, and love spending time with you. Whether we go back to the way it was or forge something new, we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not sure of anything beyond that, and that we’ve wanted this for a long time,” his words make your heart lurch. God you’ve wanted them too, but didn’t want to jeopardize the amazing relationship you had built. You know them. You trust them. You can navigate this together. A small nod of your head has Minho smashing his lips to yours, passionately enough to suck the air from your lungs.

His kiss is powerful and demanding while still being highly cognisant of your response and adjusting his fire to keep you comfortable. Your mingling lips quickly find timing against each other, his tongue gently coaxing your lips to part for him to explore you. Tingles flooding your body when his warm tongue finally touches yours. 

Jisung continues to kiss along the side of your head and down to your ear. He places feathery kisses over the cartilage, playfully nipping at your earlobe, careful to avoid your piercing. He lets out a happy sound when you squeeze the hand he’s still loyally gripping. He trails his kisses down to the soft spot below your ear before peppering your cheek, inching to your lips ready for his turn with your mouth. He gets close enough to catch the corner of your mouth in his before he’s able to bully Minho off you. You’re barely able to take a breath before Jisung’s lips are on yours. His movements are more timid but also more desperate, his need evident in his pace and little groans. This moment is better than you could've ever imagined. Despite Ji’s neediness, you are the one giving short licks at his full bottom lip asking for entrance, which he grants immediately. 

Minho has moved to your neck, sucking and kissing, his arm snaking around your waist pulling you closer to them. Arching into them, your hands slide up to rest on their built chests, and you can feel them both smiling against your skin. Your chest is heaving from the lack of oxygen and immense lust thick in the air.

“We should get off the floor; I fear if we don’t do it now, you’ll be bent over the coffee table,” Jisung suggests causing Minho to let out a hushed laugh. Despite knowing full well that is where the night is headed, you can’t help your coyness at his words. It’s hard to believe this is actually happening. Both men rise and extend hands to help your ascent, which you are more than grateful as the heady desire coursing through your veins has you feeling unsteady. They guide you to the hallway, shooting glances between one another, having one of their classic silent talks, but this time it seems more like an argument as you all stand at the point of the walkway where you have to decide which path to take to each of their rooms, knowing you will probably end up sleeping in whichever bed you land in. They attempt to make you choose, but you refuse to pick sides, both rooms are lovely and each bed equally comfortable. You just want to be with them. Minho makes the decision for you all when he drags you towards his room, just tired of trying to get two indecisive people to make a simple choice. 

Minho’s room is just as you remembered, simultaneously minimal but full of little pieces that make it full of character. There's no time to look at the new photos on the mirror or trinkets on the desk before you're playfully pushed towards the bed urging you to jump on, crawling to the center in order to make room for them, expecting them to follow you. But when you turn your back to the luxe pillows, you find yourself alone in the big bed with a cheek cramping grin on your face that melts when you see them removing their shirts and tossing them to the corner before approaching the end of the mattress staring down at you. Your mouth slightly agape as you take in their tan skin and sculpted builds, 

“This is so fucked up,” you strangle out of your drying throat, shaking your head in disbelief, and they just chuckle and move to join you. You sit legs outstretched in front of you, and they’re each on their knees sitting back on their ankles. They get you high on love, taking turns passing your lips back and forth, as the other plays with your hair, or rubs your shoulders, or simply lets their hands roam your torso. It is impossible to tell how long this went on, the only moments of clarity being when a gentle hand would guide you off one with a brief second for you to fill your lungs breath before connecting to the other. However, the makeout session is punctuated by the tug you feel on the bottom of your shirt to which to instinctively raise your arms for its removal which immediately follows, causing Jisung to groan, annoyed he had to release your lips before he was ready. 

Much to your dismay, neither pair of lips return to yours once you’ve been disrobed, the men just lean back to drink in the sight, causing your skin to burn impossibly hotter, your exposed chest flaring with redness that their eyes seemingly can’t be pulled from. If this is actually going to happen, you can’t be mortified the whole time,

“I swear, if you guys keep embarrassing me, we’ll have to stop. I can’t take it,” you half confess and half warn the pair, but it doesn’t shake their gazes.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jisung offers his apology but continues defiling you with his eyes.

“We’re just as shocked as you, jagi, just let us savor it,” Minho defends their staring while lightly scolding you right back. You start to feel cold from the lack of touch, but luckily, Jisung cracks, diving into the crook of your neck licking down, across your collarbone, to the crevice between your breasts before kissing up the swells. Minho takes a different approach. He shifts his seating and leans down. He pulls the waist of your pants just enough to expose your hip bone that he gives a hard open mouthed kiss before working his way up to meet Han, worshiping your tummy and waist. They meet at your chest, quickly going to work with their hands and mouths. Jisung’s more needy palming is juxtaposed by Minho's firm, but cautious grasping, as they work in tandem to kiss every inch from the base of your neck to your shoulders to your sternum before finally landing on your sensitive buds with just the most gentle of kisses causing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding to release in a sigh. While they both had distinct styles, Jisung using wilder, sloppy strokes and Minho more direct and teasing, they were both gentle and attentive, causing your abdomen to tense, barely raising your shoulders off the cushions you rest against, and soft moans to pour from your lips.

When you compose yourself enough to look down at them, you once again find them staring at you, up through their thick lashes, pure adoration in their faces. The sight causes your head to fall back with a groan, mostly due to the absolutely errotic vision and feeling, but also partly at being tired of them being so damn perfect. Maybe you really were the pervert they imagined; this has to be some sort of hyper realistic wet dream. You have all been too consumed by lust to talk but Minho speaks up for the first time in a bit with a snarky remark,

“We can’t stop embarrassing you, if everything we do makes you embarrassed,” he chides against your velvety skin. Causing you to giggle and place your hand on his cheek and try to push him away in retribution, but he clamps down not hard enough to hurt, but when you start to push his head, it tugs on your nipple, hissing as your hand to fall limp at your side for him to continue his torture. 

At your submission, he lets out a sound of satisfaction and resumes his pilgrimage back the way he came, moving back down your body, hooking his fingers in your waistbands, and you rise for him to rid you of your final pieces of clothing. Jisung’s passionate tonguing winds back down to loud kisses and then to slightly shaking his head side to side, ghosting his softly smiling lips over the bud, pulling whimpers from your swollen lips. After a quick kiss, he shuffles around, to sit amongst the pillows, slotting you between his legs. Turning your head to the side, he gives a loving kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his front and lazily kissing up and down the column of your neck and shoulder. 

You between Jisung’s legs and Min between yours, the beautiful man is covering your hips and thighs with wet kisses. You gaze down and see Minho’s bunny pink lips inches from where you need him, hot breath fanning over your slick core, using his fingers to spread you, just admiring. You lean your head back to rest on Jisung’s shoulder to brace yourself for the incoming rush pleasure. As you anticipated, Min’s first probing lick already has you arching into his mouth, gasping, pushing back into the warm chest of the man behind you. All of the foreplay combined with the months of yearning have you reaching an unprecedented level of sensitivity; it won’t take much, especially with Minho’s skilled movements. He gives an arrogant huff against your cunt at the way he already has you squirming on his tongue sending delicious vibrations that only make you squirm harder. He skims his index finger up your thigh as a sign of what he is about to do, not wanting to shock you when he slides the finder inside just to the first knuckle. He slowly plunges it in and out while sucking mercilessly on your clit, drawing noises from you that will haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future.

Jisung is checking in regularly to which you always respond positively, but still Minho pumps the brakes for a brief moment to allow you to calm down a little. He moves to kissing over your silken folds before giving small, soft licks to either side of your clit, giving the perfect amount of pressure and teasing. Your eyes are screwed shut, and the breath is caught in your chest as you feel your climax barreling towards you. Pulled from you blissful rapture by Ji’s voice,

“Breathe, baby. Look at Minho; doesn’t he look so pretty?” His words alone could have made you cum, but when you peel your eyes open and raise you head to see the cat like man giving you the most seductive eyes, his nose and lips glistening in your essence, white hot pleasure explodes through your body with a flood of curses out of your lips. You lie there, panting, weak in Jiusung’s arms as he lightly drags his fingers up and down your arms and across your chest soothing your involuntary tremors. The sound of the condom wrapper being torn open reminds you of where you are. You see Minho finishing rolling on the protection on his flushed cock, and he shoots back a faux guilty look, like you’d caught him in a naughty act, he giggles before asking one last time,

“You want this?” He asks with a cheeky smirk, half confirming consent and half teasing out your desperation. You respond, over feeling bashful about your desires,

“So bad, babe,” with a grin, he grabs your hips and twists them, encouraging you to flip over on to all fours over Jisung who is smiling massive and genuinely up at you before puckering, asking for more kisses. Minho is kneading your ass probably the roughest he’d been all night, as he lines himself with your entrance. He teases you with the tip, dipping it in once, twice, and then rubbing it through your slick lips, causing you to whimper against Jisung. When he goes to enter, he takes it painfully slowly, inching in while raking his fingers down your back in a sign of affection, loving the way it makes you shiver,

“Minho you feel so—so good,” you sputter out, complimenting the way Minho makes your brain go fuzzy. He just gives a cocky hum back in response, trying to act cool, but truthfully he doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Your lips reconnect to Jisung’s as you reach down into his sweats to give him some well deserved attention. He lets out a long groan against your lips, bucking up into your hand. Minho’s fighting his moans, but they escape out in strangled grunts. His slow thrusts gain in speed as he grips tightly to you hips, but he remains fucking impossibly deep, leaning forward to kiss your shoulders and upper back, pushing you back to your climax. You and Jisung are trading sounds of pleasure into eachothers open mouths, pumping him in time with the thrusts, he’s lost in the pleasure, until his realizes his orgasm approaching at lightning speed, shocking him, and he begs for you to stop the twisting of your wrist,

“Please don’t make me cum. I want to fuck you so bad, please,” he's thankful when your hand flies from his cock to land on beside his head to you steady your shaking body. When he is sure your orgasm is passed, Minho frantically frees himself, ripping off the condom, and coming around to face you, kneeling, pumping himself to keep himself on the edge. Jisung shimmies out from under you allowing Minho to scoot closer looking at you with pleading eyes. You open for him and he is instantly in your mouth. You take him as far as you can, causing the saliva to build in your mouth to slick him up. You find your rhythm, occasionally focusing on the tip and swirling your tongue around it before returning to taking all of him. He is no longer holding back cries, groaning and hissing at your moves. He runs his fingers through your hair, before dragging his fingers down your cheek to caress your chin, staring down at you,

“So fucking gorgeous, feels so good,” your pattern of sucking and licking is harshly interrupted when you hear spitting and feel warm liquid slide down your cunt threatening to drip off before Hans’s flattends tongue licks a broad stripe up you slit, forcing a muffled shout to revererate from you and you to lurch forward in surprise. You lightly gag around Minho, catching you both by surprise. The motion causes Minho to paint your throat with a string of whines,

“Ah, ah, aaah—” You swallow, loving his taste. He dramatically falls to the bed with a look of pure bliss plastered on his face. He moves to you to bestow a few passionate kisses laced with gratitude to your puffy lips before rolling off the bed. You are too distracted by the euphoria flowing through you to see where he goes as Jisung is devouring you, every lick, languid but methodical, wanting to gather every last drop of your essence. It's messy and hot, and when you look down, between your legs, you not only Ji’s angry cock oozing precum, but the growing pool under you of your juices and his spit drooling off your pussy. You plea to him. You don’t want this to end, but you are so dumb on pleasure and needy, you want him inside you,

“Hannie, I need you inside, please,” but he doesn’t budge. He might be wanting to draw yet another orgasm from you, but it's more likely that he is too pussydrunk and is just hypnotized by your addictive taste and filthy sounds,

“Jisung, please,” you try again, as Minho enters again, holding waters and towels. After placing the goodies on the nightstand, he crawls back into bed beside you, admiring the salacious scene before him and your sweet sullied expression before nudging Jisung,

“Give the girl what she wants, before I do,” Ji releases your pussy with a wet pop and once again, your hips are grabbed, guiding you to flip over, this time having to aid you a bit more as your muscles are starting to give out. Jisung gives your forehead a kiss before aligning himself with your entrance, but is interrupted by the flying condom smacks him in the chest and falls to land on your stomach. He swiftly tears it open and rolls it on, embarrassed that he almost forgot, caught up in the moment as Minho shames him under his breath. Minho holds your chin to face him as Jisung slips in, watching you intently since he didn't get to see your face when he had his way with you. He holds your gaze, and when you try to close your eyes, he gently taps your cheek reminding you to return his gaze. Jisung is savagely pounding into you. He has been waiting for so long, as much as he wanted to be sensual like Minho, right now, he just couldn't hold back,

“You’re perfect, baby. Shit, i’m not gonna last,” he mumbles, thrust already getting erratic. Minho frees you when Jisung falls forward onto his forearms to cage you in, attacking your mouth with desperate kisses, the kissing shifts to just moaning and whimpering into each other as you both reach your highs, Jisung mumbling your name on repeat, looking almost as wrecked as you, giving a few final powerful thrusts before collapsing down to your other side. The room is quiet besides the heavy breathing as you all bask in the lustful aura, Min breaks the silence,

“I can speak for Jisung on this, when are the vows?” he chuckles out, causing you all to burst into breathy laughter. After cleaning up and hydrating, you all lay in bed together rolling around snuggling and kissing in the post-sex lovey state. Minho goes to the bathroom to complete his night time routine leaving you in bed with Jisung where you two giggle and take turns tracing imaginary patterns on each other's skin. When Minho returns dewy faced and in neat pajamas, Jisung leaves your side to do the same. Minho holds you tight against his side, your head resting on his chest as he hums, lips pressed into your hair. Jisung offers up some of his boxers and Minho provides a tshirt for you to sleep in, and then you too go wash up and brush your teeth and hair, trying not to get existential or horny while you stare at yourself in the mirror recounting the evening’s events. 

When you return, Minho is already under the covers on his side of the bed. He’s prepped the other side for you, pulling back the covers, giving you some extra pillows, and placing your water and a snack on the nightstand, but Ji is just sitting on the edge of the bed. When you approach he stands and opens his arms for a hug,

“I wanted to wait to say goodnight,” he offers. You can't help the look of disappointment,

“We all it fine on the bed earlier, so couldn’t you just stay? Is that okay?” you ask timidly, that embarrassment you’ve been able to shove down all flooding back since the emboldening lust has been quelled. Jisung doesn’t respond, simply pulls you into a tight embrace. You guess he wasn’t okay with that suggestion, but before you could tell him that it's fine to tell you no, he is tackling you onto the bed, and pulling the duvet up over all three of you causing Minho to give an exasperated sign. 

Breakfast was sure to be interesting, but as you lay curled around Jisung, his thick hair tickling your cheek with Minho pressed to your back, a strong arm slung over your waist resting on Ji’s side, the one thing you know is that you could definitely get used to this. Figuring this out was tomorrow's problem. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

pic creds x x x

A.n- Thanks for reading. This is a bit of a longer one. The longest thing I've written in fact. I just hava lot of felling about this. I hope it's not too niche/reaches the right horny nerds

-mo :)

Masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex, face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

[ancientnapdragon]

I think that trying to expand on or explore Yue Qingyuan's or Shen Jiu's parents could be really fun. Espeeeecially SJ. Like why were these two poor kids thrown in the dirt?

Like yeah I know tragedy and storytelling and blah blah blah but lemme just squish them.

Anyway so I had another random idea, feel free to use as always, involving our special boy Shen Yuan. Basically he is a half demon (what flavor is up to you, but I was specifically imagining some type of bug 🐛). He is this very pretty little thing who lives in the demon realm with his Cultivator mom, except they're both like basically kept/imprisoned in this Demon Lord's compound.

His mom always told him about how she used to be in love with this other Cultivator and they had another son together. But shortly after he was born the Demon Lord like killed the dad, stole the mom, and threw the baby in a ditch. She's a real peerless beauty type. SY has always mourned for his older brother he never met and for how much his mom hates it here, even if she's done everything in her power to love him and teach him cultivation.

SY is also a super pretty boy and he's like? 11 or 12 or so? And his dad decides that since he's kinda useless otherwise he's gunna marry SY off. His mom helps him escape before that can happen and he swears to get enough power to free her someday.

Cue like a big chase but he makes it out of the Demon Realm and into the Human Realm. By complete coincidence he ends up running into like 9 y/o Binghe while his mom is super sick. Even the he can't do much he uses some of his demon powers and like heals her! But she's still really weak. And helps take care of SY for a bit before he encourages the two of them to go to CMS to be Cultivators. (She doesn't know that SY is a half demon, neither does LBH.)

They leave together and SY like admits that he wish he could save HIS mom and gives LBH a censored (of the demon stuff) version of his own mom's story. LBH promises to get super strong someday so he can help SY rescue her and SY is touched.

Anyway they do the hole digging and there is one set of eyes like LOCKED on SY the whole time. SQQ can see that FOOL making sopping eyes at the dirty little kid who looks like a younger version of himself. Before YQY can pick him, SQQ does and is so mad he like leaves the rest of the selection.

(LBH Still gets chosen! By YQY!)

Cue a lot of SQQ being a dick but over time like weirdly protective of the sassy, spitfire kid who is his little clone. SY is glad he saved LBH from a future of torment at SQQ's hands even if he brought it on himself instead. And SQQ over time is kinda... well, not nice. But he's not as bad as PIDW always talked about. Too bad he can't focus on that AS much when he's trying to keep his demon parts hidden!!

Eventually, like after SY has been there a few years, SQQ would find out the story about SY's missing older brother. And even tho he's probably been convinced it's just a passing resemblance, alarm bells start going off in his head. Some Airplane Flavored Bullshit would happen and would reveal the two of them are actually related by blood, too.

SQQ demanding to know what happened to their mother (since he knows his dad's fate :( ) and SY reluctantly telling him. OG Story just off the rails at this point. LBH is like 17 and has become YQY's head disciple and is living his best life with his depressed Shizun.

Not really sure where it would go from there tbh. But SY/SJ's mom would be rescued and I think she deserves to be in lesbians with LBH's mom. As a treat. Maybe they could do some shit with TLJ some the plot is so bad cause the demon lord was the one who half took his place after TLJ was sealed? Like, enemy of my enemy is my friend kinda shit to take out the demon lord properly. Ideal is we somehow bring back SYX and then the 4 parents form like a polycule. Big "Gee, TLJ! How come the author lets you have THREE hot wives??" Energy.

Anyway happy mother's day

[freak-accident419]

Movie Night

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: An hour into a movie that Josh practically begged you to watch with him, the two of you end up fucking. Various interruptions occur, but that didn’t stop you from having a great time.

Word Count: 2.6k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no specific genitalia for reader, oral (m!receiving), riding/cowgirl, missionary, sex on the floor, Josh is a silly nerd, slight fluff, silly sex/goofy smut #3: the silliness, Josh makes you watch an important scene in the middle of sex, you two fall off the bed :3

(A/n: this is my birthday gift to the lovely @wemnui!! ilyily sm girl, i hope this brightens your very special day <3 thank you to @stop-talking for this idea ehehehe :3 and thank you to everyone for your help, support, and love. enjoy!)

-

“I’m telling you, Y/n, it’s the most important movie in the entire franchise!” Your boyfriend, Josh, exclaims eagerly as he selects a film with the TV remote.

“Yeah, you’ve said that, like, a gazillion times already,” you chuckle softly, “I promised you I’d watch it with you already, didn’t I?”

Josh Futturman being your partner meant a lot of things: having to hear his constant video game/movie references, clingy cuddles, spontaneous and unlikely events, and genuine, sincere love. But with the complete Josh Futturman Package (or rather ‘Bundle,’ he preferred), it also came with his reluctant urge to introduce you to and ramble about his dorky interests. And you found it endearing, to say the least, seeing how passionate he could be about multiple things. It was extremely adorable to you to see him rant about the most random things, from epic sci-fi movies to the mediocrity of Super Mario Bros, that you practically viewed it as his own love language. Sure, kisses and cuddles and sex were all great, but you could hear him talk his mouth off about Biotic Wars for several days in a row. Which is what led you to this moment, essentially.

The two of you would frequently spend time indoors for movie nights, snuggled up in your bedsheets in the dark where the brilliant light from the screen illuminated your faces. Tonight, you were watching a movie that Josh had always been excited to show you for a while. The two of you, like always, laid comfortably on your mattress, covered warmly in your sheets as the movie began to play in front of you. Throughout the film, you watched intently, nodding at Josh’s comments, half of the time pretending to comprehend what he was talking about—it got a bit confusing, but you were willing to try to understand it for him.

Halfway into the movie, you felt a bit tired than usual, which made you curious since it wasn’t even that late in the night. Then you figured it was just the bright screen that overwhelmed your eyes. So you shifted your position to avoid falling asleep, yet ended up placing a leg over Josh’s from the side, his thigh now in between yours. And he didn’t notice, of course, as he was too fixated on the screen.

Even the slightest touch had adjusted your breathing. And it hasn’t even been a long time since you’ve had sex with your boyfriend, so you just figured you were turned on by how close you were to him.

Grunting quietly, you needed to pull your leg back to yourself, but instead, you would accidentally and briefly grind your crotch against his thigh.

Even the slightest touch had turned you on.

Fuck this, you thought.

You leaned in, beginning to pepper kisses across Josh’s neck, your lips lingering on the skin.

“What are y—mmmm,” he hums softly in pleasure as he feels you nibble on his sensitive areas, which was sure to leave red and purple marks.

“Baby,” you began breathlessly between each nip, “I’m lovin’ this movie, like, a lot. It’s as good as you’ve claimed, and I appreciate all of your info dumps and adorable little rambles about it, but,” you pant heavily, “fuck… I need you, baby… so bad…” Okay. So maybe kisses and cuddles and sex were just as great as his nerdy rambles.

“Shit—” Josh whined, grabbing your face firmly with his soft hands and pressed his lips desperately against yours.

Moving onto Josh’s lap, you blocked the TV from his view with your body as his hands shifted down to grip your waist. “Mph—” you tried to feel for the remote on the nightstand without breaking the kiss, stretching out your arm, “we can pause it—”

“Babe, I’ve memorized all the piss breaks in this movie.” Josh glances quickly at the TV behind you, then looked back at you. “And thankfully, it looks like we’re not gonna miss anything anytime soon,” he interjects eagerly, encapsulating your lips in a deeper kiss. God, how you were head over heels for this stupid nerd.

You began to help him remove his sweatpants, tugging them off his legs and throwing them on the ground. Your hands caressed his thighs in anticipation, pressing soft kisses to the skin. Your nibbles turned into soft biting then sucking, leaving hickeys as you saw the tight tent in his boxers.

Josh whimpered as you continued nipping his flesh, finally holding onto the waistband of his underwear go pull it off, his hard cock springing out instantly. Grinning to yourself, you began to place your hand over his shaft, slowly stroking him up and down.

“G-god… f-fuck…” Josh moans as his marked up thighs slightly trembled under you, his eyes half-lidded at the sensation. Your thumb reached up towards the pink, throbbing tip, smearing the slick precum around his slit, and gaining another higher-pitched noise from him. Then you finally held onto his plush thighs, squeezing them lightly in your palms as you took his cock in your mouth.

“A-ahh, Y/n—fuck,” he whined, placing his hands in your hair, tugging desperately at the strands as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, letting your tongue run along his length. His cock was the perfect size for you, and you admired him and his body so dearly, making sure that he knew exactly that with the help of your actions.

You pulled off briefly, releasing an arousing string of saliva between your lips and his glistening wet cock. Your hand moved back up to stimulate his length again as you moved your lips down to mouth his balls, licking and sucking at the soft skin. Josh bit his bottom lip intensely before your mouth switched places with your hand once again, wrapping it back around his shaft. “Shhhit—fuck!” He cries softly, now forcing your head down with his grip on your hair, lifting his hips up to thrust harshly into your mouth. You moaned at this, sending satisfying vibrations throughout his entire body, yet also gagged quietly from the sudden control.

He held your head tightly with his fingers tangled in your strands, pushing it down and thrusting desperately into your mouth. “Shit—” he whimpers frantically, his breathing becoming unstable as he let out several uneven pants. “Y/n! Fuck! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, fuck—!”

The two of you moaned loudly as you felt exuberant ropes of his warm, white semen spurt deeply into your mouth, your nose pressed against his pelvis as you swallowed his entire release. Your lips that were wrapped around his cock continued to move along his length in order to help him ride his high.

“Fuck…” he muttered, pulling off his shirt desperately, then reaching for yours until your clothes were sprawled out messily and carelessly on the floor, the two of you completely naked with each other. Josh positioned you over his lap, lining up his hard, throbbing cock with your entrance. Then you finally sank down on him, feeling his shaft slightly stretch your hole, your walls wrapping around him soothingly.

“Oh, fuuuck,” you moan out, pressing your lips against his passionately, gently cupping his face in affection. Your foreheads were pressed together once you slowly began to rock your hips against his, letting his cock push further and further into you with every deep movement.

“Oh, shit—” Josh whines as your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life as you moved faster, practically bouncing on his dick. With every moment you sank down, your sensitive parts would grind against his firm pelvic bone, moaning from the pleasing and granting sensation. Your overlapping sounds of lust and arousal created a beautifully lewd symphony. As you rode him relentlessly, he cupped your ass firmly in one hand and grasped at your waist with the other, guiding your rapid movements on his cock.

As your body slammed down against him, his length caressing your sensitive walls with every thrust, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small room. Your gaze on each other had stilled lustfully as you indulged in the noise of the fast, erotic pounding.

Suddenly, Josh slightly froze, and at the time, you couldn’t tell if he either saw or heard the movie scene from behind you, but he scrambled for the remote and seized your movements desperately. “Wait, wait, wait, fuck!” He whined as he rewinded the film, making you look back at the screen in utter confusion.

“Josh, what the hell—”

“This is the most important part of the whole movie!” He exclaims stressfully, making you pout as you sat vacantly on his cock, his length still deep inside of you.

“Josh—”

“Sh-sh-sh—Just watch!” He hushed, unpausing the movie, increasing the volume before setting the remote down.

A few minutes passed by as the two of you watched in this position.

And then…

“Holy shit!” You shouted in surprise, seeing Josh’s beaming expression. “What?!”

“I know,” he chuckles.

“You’re telling me—You’re telling me he dies?!”

“Yeah—”

“But—But he’s the most important character in the movie! Hell, he’s the main character, I don’t—” you scoff, yet with a slight, amused grin. “I mean, does it really end like that?! Him being killed by his stupid fuckin’ clone?!”

“Well, technically, yeah,” Josh shrugged.

“Shit,” you huffed, raising an eyebrow as the scene continued to play out, concluding with the end credits. Your boyfriend then paused the movie with the remote, looking at you with a soft, anticipatory grin.

“So…? What did you think?”

“That was… awesome, baby,” you giggle.

“Yeah? Wait, wait, seriously? You’re not just saying that because I love it, right?” He stammers before you cut him off with a deep, sweet kiss.

“It was genuinely amazing, my love,” you confirmed warmly.

“God, I fucking love you,” he grins, pushing you down on your back near the edge of the bed, pressing his lips against your mouth and then to your neck. “You’re, like, the coolest person ever,” he mumbles in between each affectionate nip before moving into you again.

“Ah, fuck—!” You whine softly as his cock fills you up again, moving at a much faster pace to begin with. Your legs involuntarily wrap around his back as Josh struggles to push even deeper inside of you. “Ah! J-Josh! H-Holy fuck!”

The bed began to creak and shake violently as the two of you moved together passionately together, striving to be even closer to each other. Your breathless moans filled the room as the sound of his cock ramming into your tight hole persisted.

“O-oh, fuck!” Josh cries as he continued deeply and swiftly ravaging your insides, desperately attempting to reach your sweet spot. His fingernails sink into your hips as you moan, legs tightening around him to bring him closer until the two of you rolled off the bed.

You two fell off the goddamn bed.

Josh was still inside of you, yet you were there lying on top of him. You stared at each other for a while before bursting out in blissful and elated laughter, burying your face in Josh’s neck. “Oh my fucking god,” you wheeze, pressing your lips affectionately to his skin.

“You’re so perfect…” he whispers softly, disregarding the embarrassing moment the two of you had, stroking your hair gently. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“Honestly?” You chuckle, lifting up your head to face him. “It was your sad, big hazel eyes and loser, cringefail personality that truly captivated me.”

Josh snickered, grabbing your face gently in his hands to peck your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?” You scoff lightheartedly. “You’re the one who paused our literal fucking because I missed a scene in that nerd movie.”

“What? I thought you said you liked it,” he pouted.

You kissed his pout away. “Doesn’t mean it’s not nerdy.” You watched him frown and kissed him again. “But you know what? You’re my nerd. I love you.”

He was completely smitten with you, a red blush painted softly over his freckles. “I know.”

A Star Wars reference? Is he fucking joking? “If you don’t say it back, Han Solo, I’ll move off your dick and get off in the bathroom by myself.”

“No, no, no!” He whines, pressing his lips against yours passionately, slipping his tongue in your mouth to deepen it. “I love you too,” he mumbles.

Finally, you sat up, supporting yourself with your hands on Josh’s chest, his cock still snug inside of you. You watched his hands grip your waist as you finally started to move against him, slowly and sweetly this time.

“Fuck…” he whispers, trying to move his hips with yours as his length thrusted in and out of your needy hole. As you began to ride him, his dick would slide so easily and satisfyingly inside of you, brushing your walls with pleasure and warmth.

“Oh, yes…” you moan gently. “Oh, fuck…”

The two of you remained on the floor, your hips beginning to move faster after each thrust. Josh’s back arched as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, filling your hole completely. “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Josh! O-oh! Oh, fuck, baby…” your sweet sounds escaped your lips as your hips slammed into each other in unison, urgently bouncing on his hard, throbbing cock. “Ah-ahhh!”

You felt yourself getting closer, your own thighs trembling as Josh’s movements faltered. You placed your hand on the ground beside his head and lowered the rest of your body down to connect each other’s lips. You tasted him enthusiastically, kissing him with so much passion and lust while your movements began to stutter.

“I—fuck, I’m so close,” you mutter in between hot kisses.

“Mmm—fuck, Y/n, me too,” he whimpers, hips still trying to move up inside of you.

“Shit—cum for me,” you whisper gently as you were about to reach your release, “cum for me, baby…”

And just like that, your low, passionate words sent him right to the fucking edge.

“Ah—Y/n—Fuuuck!” He moaned loudly, arching his hips up as he pressed yours down against him, releasing deeply and heavily inside of you. His hot, thick cum painted your walls entirely, filling up your hole so generously in explosive bursts. The overwhelming, arousing feeling had prompted you to cum immediately right after him, holding his body close and tight to yours as you clenched around him completely. Instantly, your lips were reattached to yours, going limp and collapsing on top of him in exhaustion.

The two of you laid there on the floor, extremely spent, panting heavily and catching your breath. Strands of your hair were stuck to your sweaty foreheads as your heart beat almost rapidly.

“You… You’re amazing…” Josh mumbles with a giddy, flushed smile on his face.

You chuckled in response, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Silly,” you mutter out, moving your head to rest it on his bare chest, getting a view of his belongings or junk under the bed. And then… “Is that—” Scoffing in awe, you stretched your arm out and grabbed a DVD case. “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Season 4? Babe, wh—”

“Hey, hey, that’s—” he stresses, throwing the case far away and out of your grasp. “That’s uh… That’s not mine.”

“Well, then who’s is it?” You raise an eyebrow with teasing grin.

Josh pauses then groaned in utter defeat. “Fine! Fine, it’s uh… it’s mine.” Before you could laugh or make another comment, he interjects, “But you don’t understand the very complicated and intricate lore of the whole series, okay? Sure, it seems like any other children’s cartoon full of mindless fillers and fluff pieces, but there’s so much more than that! Arguably, those ponies have gone through so much hell, and it’s like—you know?”

You smirked playfully, cupping the side of his face with one hand. “So what, are you gonna start forcing me to watch the whole series too?”

“No! No… I mean… It would be cool—but no!” He stammers hesitantly.

Your eyebrows relaxed as your grin widens. “Yeah, well… doesn’t matter either way because I already watched the whole series.”

His eyes widened, almost comically.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you nod.

Josh pauses then let out a loud, yet delighted groan.

“Fuck, how could you get any more perfect for me?!”

[howtofightwrite]

Hey! I'm writing a series with a character who is a sniper. She is a private hire and ends up meeting someone who works with shorter ranged guns and weapons.

I'm just wondering how they would differ when killing someone and what are the tells of each weapon. I want to make it clear that the weapons are different but I'm not sure what those differences are

So, something that stuck out to me originally, when reading this is, most snipers are going to have a close range PDW. Whether that's just their sidearm or something more substantial, they'd need to be proficient with something in close quarters if it comes to that.

Now, the hard part about answering this question in the abstract is that, almost everything associated with firearms is extremely date sensitive.

For example, if your CQB/CQC character was originally trained sometime in the late 90s to late 2000s (in a Western country), they'd have likely encountered Center Axis Re-lock. Outside of those 20 years, then that style hadn't seen widespread adoption, or had fallen out of favor.

For some specific film examples, Vincent (Tom Cruise) from Collateral (2004) would have been working as an assassin for at least a decade by the time we see him in the film. We can make this assessment based on the way he handles the USP, and then compare to CQC training. His one-handed disarm and execute he uses in the alley puts his training sometime in the 80s to 90s at the earliest, while his lack of CAR in close quarters tells you he didn't have Western military or law enforcement training after the mid-90s.

Another film example that might surprise you is John Wick (Keanu Reeves). In those films he exhibits CQC training that suggests he still in the military less than 15 years before the events of the first film. Except his CAR stances are actually a little sloppy (which is unusual for Reeves), which suggests that Wick may have observed others using the stance, and then improvised a version of it for his own use. Meaning you can't really estimate when his combat training occurred. (This might also might explain why he's a bit sloppy about when he switches between Weaver and CAR.) By the way, it is quite difficult to pick this out. It took a few experts dinging on the first Wick film before I really started picking up on the issues with Reeves' technique. And I haven't seen anyone else draw the conclusion that Wick is probably self-taught in CAR. (This was corrected for the later films, as Reeves did get proper training in CAR in preparation for the second film.)

In particular, this is a singular example, but there are a lot of things someone can do that will inform you about their background and training. This starts with weapon selection. Things like their preferred sidearm and primary can be very insightful. People tend to go in one of two directions with firearms. Either, they're very willing to adapt and experiment, or they'll find something they're comfortable with and hone in with that specific firearm.

For example, is your sniper carrying around a Remington 700, or something like an MSR or AWM? Both are legitimate answers, but they say very different things about how your character approaches their area of expertise. Similarly, are they carrying a 1911 pattern pistol, or something more modern, like an HK USP or FN P45?

If your sniper is carrying around an AMT Hardballer, and your CQC specialist is carrying around a P45t, your CQC specialist has twice the magazine capacity. They can afford to dump rounds into someone until they stop twitching. Where as a Hardballer is “just” an extremely well made 1911. Their kills are going to look different, but it's a function of the weapon they chose.

Without knowing what they're carrying, it's very hard to answer definitively how their kills will look.

If it was me, kitting out for CQC in a situation where I'd need to hide the weapon under a jacket, I'd seriously consider an AAC Honey Badger hidden under a sport coat. (I know, I trash talked the Honey Badger a few years ago, before getting a good look at one and seeing just how tiny they are. Mea Culpa. I should know better than to shit on a gun I'm unfamiliar with by now. That's a toxic element of gun culture I've been trying to get away from. It still clings a bit sometimes.) Similarly, the Mk18 and Colt 733 are also pretty good options. That's a little bit of an M4a1 bias, but it's a decent platform. There are other valid options, those are just the first that come to mind for me.

If your character was kitting for CQC, and wanted Warsaw pact weapons, the Groza is a bit exotic, but that's what it was designed for. The SR-3M Vikhr is an update of the Val, and a pretty legitimate choice. They're both 9x39mm rifles, so long range accuracy isn't happening, but in close quarters they still hit stupidly hard. Granted, any Krinkov would work in that role. (So, mostly AKS-74Us.) (I think there were some 7.62x39mm Krinkovs, but I can't remember the name.)

So, ultimately, identifying the differences between the weapons, starts with knowing what the weapons are. Having a basic idea of how they handle (even if that's not first hand), and then being able to see how they differ from one another. This is made even harder in the sense that modern firearms have become extremely modular. Given the option to fully kit out the same gun for you CQC specialist, it's a pretty good bet you and I would walk away with distinctly different end results. Even if the base model was the same. (For the record, I'm not saying my configuration would be better. I have biases and preferences that aren't necessarily the best option available.)

The best place to start, is looking at the kinds of weapons your character would use. Your sniper's going to want a long range precision rifle and a sidearm. She might also go for a small machine pistol/SMG. Your CQC specialist would probably prioritize an actual primary. That might be an SMG, a carbine, or even a shotgun (because nothing says hello quite like three or four 12 gauge shells pumped out of a fully automatic Saiga. (And before someone corrects me, yes, I know, there are no production full-auto Saigas, however they can be illegally modified for full-auto.)

Once you know how different the weapons are, you can start digging into how the characters themselves approach combat, and how their respective styles differ.

-Starke

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[hoe4hotchner]

Lured Into Darkness | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 3.6k  | CW: General case talk, reader recently lost someone, cemetery, reader is put in danger, hotch gets in a fight, no use of Y/N. | Summary: The BAU is hunting an unsub who targets victims visiting cemeteries. After profiling the unsub, Hotch sends you undercover, knowing you fit the killer's MO.

The dimly lit conference room buzzed with an undercurrent of tension as the BAU team gathered at the front, their expressions serious and focused. Photographs of recent victims adorned the projector screen, the stark contrast of life and death lingering in the air. The local police force was seated around the table, their faces reflecting a mix of disbelief and concern.

Hotch stood at the front, his authoritative presence commanding the room. “The unsub we’re dealing with is targeting individuals visiting cemeteries, specifically those appearing emotionally distressed,” he explained, his tone steady. “Based on the victimology, we believe he selects targets who are mourning recently lost loved ones or those displaying signs of vulnerability.”

Morgan stepped forward, his brow furrowing. “We suspect he’s using the guise of a grieving visitor to approach his victims. This allows him to gain their trust and connect with them before making his move.”

“Exactly,” Hotch continued, clicking to the next slide showcasing a timeline of the murders. “Our first victim was found last month, and since then, two more have followed. Each incident occurred during the late afternoon hours, suggesting a pattern that could indicate the unsub's confidence in his environment. We need to increase patrols at local cemeteries in this area.” Hotch clicked the remote again and a red circle outlined the zone.

“Do we have any leads on his identity?” one of the officers asked, his voice edged with urgency.

“Not yet,” Reid replied, his voice rising above the quiet murmur. “But we believe he has some background in psychology or social work, which allows him to manipulate his victims’ emotions.”

As Hotch wrapped up the briefing, the atmosphere was thick with determination and fear. The police exchanged concerned glances, their seriousness mirroring the weight of the information. Hotch concluded the briefing, “The unsub will likely strike again if we don’t intervene quickly.”

As the room began to disperse, Hotch signaled for his team to stay behind. They gathered around the table, concern etched on their faces. “I need to discuss our next steps,” he said, his tone shifting to a more urgent cadence. “We’re going to need a lure to draw him out.” “What do you mean, Hotch?” Morgan asked, crossing his arms.

Hotch took a breath, locking eyes with each of them, then finally resting his gaze on you. “Based on the profile, he targets those who are grieving. We need to send in someone who fits that profile.”

Your heart raced as you realized where this was heading. “You want me to go in as bait,” you stated, trying to sound calm despite the knot in your stomach.

Hotch nodded. “You’ll be our best chance to draw him out. You fit his victim profile, and we need to use what he’s looking for. The police will assist, but I need you to be cautious.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with concern. “I don’t want to put myself in harm’s way.”

Hotch’s expression softened, but there was an edge of determination in his gaze. “We’re all at risk in this line of work. I wouldn’t put you in this position if I didn’t think you could handle it. You’re strong, and I trust you.” Morgan stepped in, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Besides, you’ve got the rest of us watching your back. We won’t let anything happen to you.” You smiled weakly, grateful for the support but still apprehensive. “Okay, then. What’s the plan?”

Hotch leaned closer, pulling out a map of the cemetery and outlining the areas where you would be stationed. “You’ll set up near the middle, where we can station patrols nearby. We’ll have eyes on you at all times, and as soon as we see any suspicious activity, we’ll move in.”

As the details of the mission unfolded, you felt a mix of excitement and fear. You were familiar with the risks, but the thought of putting yourself in the line of fire still sent a shiver down your spine.

Once the briefing was complete, you all made your way out of the room, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders as you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come.

Hotch remained close to you, his presence both reassuring and intense.

“Are you really okay with this?” he asked quietly, just as you were about to walk out the door.

You paused, meeting his gaze. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop this guy. We can’t let him hurt anyone else.”

Hotch’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension eased. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want to lose anyone, especially not you.”

You nodded, a flicker of warmth spreading in your chest at his concern. “I promise.”

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The mission loomed ahead, and you knew there was no turning back now. You were committed to this, ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead in that cemetery.

The cemetery loomed ahead, its ancient stones partially veiled by a thick layer of fog that clung to the ground like a shroud. It became apparent to everyone that the mission wouldn't go as planned, and that you likely would be put in more danger than anticipated.

Streetlights flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows that twisted and turned with the night breeze. You stood by the entrance, heart pounding, and tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions churning within you.

Hotch watched you from a distance, his gaze unwavering. The rest of the team had set up a perimeter, their silhouettes blending into the darkness as they spread out, ready for the mission to unfold. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill your lungs, and closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on the task ahead.

Before stepping into the cemetery, you needed to work yourself into character. You had to appear vulnerable, like an easy target. It felt strange to manipulate your emotions this way, but the thought of saving lives kept you grounded. Slowly, you recalled a few memories—times when you’d felt loss and sorrow. You remembered a cherished friend who had passed away, the grief still fresh in your mind, even if buried deep beneath the surface.

With each memory, you let the emotions rise, allowing the familiar ache to spread through your chest. The first tear fell, and you quickly swiped at it, reminding yourself that this was part of the act. As you let the sadness wash over you, more tears followed, blurring your vision. You took a shaky breath, letting the sobs threaten to break free.

Hotch observed quietly, his heart aching for you. He admired your ability to cry on command — something not everyone could do. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you turn your emotions into a weapon, but it always left him in awe. You had a strength that was often hidden behind your bravado, and he respected that about you.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low, breaking the stillness.

You nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “Yeah. Just… give me a moment.”

With a determined breath, you stepped forward, your feet crunching against the gravel path leading into the cemetery. The fog enveloped you, swallowing your figure until you disappeared from view, leaving Hotch and the team behind.

As you walked deeper into the cemetery, you let the tears flow freely, keeping your head down, shoulders shaking with feigned sobs. You glanced up occasionally, ensuring you were still walking on the right path, yet deep down, you were aware of the risk you were taking and scouted for the unsub as well.

The fog thickened, curling around the gravestones like ghostly fingers, and you felt a chill race down your spine. It was eerie, the silence wrapping around you, broken only by the sound of your own soft sobs. You made your way toward a cluster of graves, where the headstones jutted out like jagged teeth in the mist.

As you settled near a particularly ornate stone, you kept your eyes peeled for any movement in the shadows. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept in. What if this was a mistake?

But you shook your head, reminding yourself of the stakes. This was about more than just you; it was about stopping a killer who preyed on those who mourned. With each heartbeat, you could almost hear the whispers of those who had come before you, their stories intertwining with your own as you fought against the looming darkness.

Back at the entrance, Hotch stood with his arms crossed, scanning the fog for any sign of danger. Morgan joined him, his brow furrowed with concern. “You think she’s going to be okay out there?”

Hotch’s jaw tightened as he focused on the obscured figures moving in the fog. “She knows what she’s doing. She’s strong.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just about strength,” Morgan replied, glancing sideways at Hotch. “You care about her. We all do. It’s hard to watch her put herself in danger like this.”

“I know,” Hotch admitted, his voice a low murmur. “But we have a job to do. If she can lure him out, we can finally put an end to this.”

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the air thickened. You felt your heart race as you lingered near the graves, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on you. Just as you began to doubt yourself, a rustling sound emerged from the shadows, causing your heart to leap into your throat.

You forced yourself to continue sobbing, not wanting to alert the presence lurking nearby. The sound grew louder, echoing in the stillness of the cemetery. A figure emerged from the fog, dark and menacing, standing at the edge of the path.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped closer, his eyes locked onto you. He wore a twisted smile, one that sent chills racing through your body.

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice smooth and dangerous. “Are you lost?”

You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze lowered, but your instincts screamed at you to be cautious. The plan was working; he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

As he stepped closer, you sensed the tension building on the perimeter, the team poised to strike. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding, as you prepared for the moment you had been waiting for — the moment to draw him out into the open, where he could be apprehended.

The fog swirled around you both, and the darkness seemed to close in, but you stood your ground, ready to face whatever would come next.

The air felt thick as you kept your eyes trained on the approaching figure, your heart pounding in your chest. The he moved closer, his twisted smile growing wider as he took in your tear-streaked face.

“Lost, are we?” he taunted, his voice laced with malice. “You shouldn’t be out here all alone. It’s not safe.” He stepped forward, invading your personal space, his eyes glinting with a excitement.

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to shake as you replied, “I-I’m just here to visit someone. Please… just leave me alone.”

He tilted his head, feigning concern. “Oh, sweetheart, I can’t do that. You look so vulnerable, just begging for someone to help you.” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.

That was your cue. Underneath your sleeve, you pressed the small button hidden in the fabric of your shirt. It was a signal for the team — your lifeline — and you prayed they would arrive in time.

The unsub’s gaze sharpened, and the air grew heavy with danger. “What are you doing?” he asked, the mockery in his tone quickly morphing into a more sinister threat.

Suddenly, he lunged at you, fingers curled into claws, aiming for your throat. You instinctively dodged, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but he was quicker than you anticipated. His hands connected with your shoulder, sending you crashing against a nearby gravestone.

A sharp pain radiated through your body, but your instincts kicked in, pushing you to scramble back to your feet. You glanced around, your heart racing as the fog thickened, concealing any sign of your team.

“Crying won’t save you now,” he sneered, lunging again. His hands grasped your wrist, his grip like iron, and you gasped, fear pooling in your stomach.

“Get away from her!”

The shout pierced through the fog like a gunshot, and you looked up just as Hotch emerged from the mist, eyes blazing with fury. He charged forward, a force of nature, and the unsub’s eyes widened in realization that he was not alone anymore.

Hotch’s presence was commanding, but you could see the worry flickering in his eyes as he quickly assessed the situation. He could see that you were in danger, and that instinctual protectiveness flared within him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Hotch tackled the unsub, forcing him away from you. The two men collided with a heavy thud, and you stumbled back, your breath catching in your throat as you watched the struggle unfold.

Hotch grappled with the unsub, fists flying as he landed a blow to the man’s midsection, sending him staggering back. “You’re done!” he growled, fury lacing his voice.

The unsub recovered quickly, swinging a wild punch at Hotch’s face, but Hotch ducked, countering with a swift jab to the gut. They fought like two predators locked in a deadly dance, the fog swirling around them, heightening the sense of danger.

“Hotch!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest as you watched the two men exchange blows. You were still shaken from the encounter, but you knew you needed to act.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, and the rest of the team emerged from the fog, weapons drawn and ready. Morgan, Reid, and JJ rushed toward you, their eyes scanning for any signs of danger.

“Get down!” Morgan shouted, moving to your side, placing himself between you and the chaos of the fight.

But you couldn’t just stand there. “I’m fine!” you insisted, shaking off the fear that threatened to overtake you. “It’s Hotch! He needs help!”

As if on cue, the unsub landed a punch to Hotch’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. The moment was crucial, and the tide of the fight seemed to shift dangerously in the unsub’s favor.

“Hotch!” you cried out again, your heart racing as you watched him gather himself, determination etched on his face.

Reid and JJ rushed in, flanking Hotch, and without a second thought, they surrounded the unsub. With Morgan joining the fray, it became a concerted effort to take him down.

The unsub, realizing he was outnumbered, roared in frustration, but Hotch wasn’t about to let him escape. He lunged forward again, his movements swift and calculated.

“Get off me!” the unsub snarled, pushing against Hotch, but you could see the determination in Hotch’s eyes, the way he fought for you, and the lives of others.

With one final coordinated effort, Hotch and Morgan tackled the unsub to the ground. The man struggled, but it was futile. Reid swiftly pulled out his handcuffs and secured the unsub’s wrists behind his back, effectively ending the threat.

As the adrenaline began to fade, you took a shaky breath, relief flooding through you. Hotch stood, breathing heavily, his eyes searching for you through the haze of fog.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and urgent as he approached you, concern etched into his features.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks, a mixture of fear and gratitude. “I’m fine, just a little shaken.”

Hotch reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek to wipe away your tears. “You did great. I was worried about you.”

The tension in the air gradually dissipated as the medics arrived on the scene, their presence a welcome relief amidst the chaos. The unsub was now securely restrained and taken away, leaving the team to regroup and recover from the harrowing encounter.

You stood off to the side, wrapped tightly in a thin emergency blanket, your eyes feeling heavy from the adrenaline and the tears that had streamed down your face. Despite the comfort of the blanket, a chill lingered in your bones, both from the cold fog and the fear that had gripped you moments before. The mascara stains on your cheeks served as stark reminders of how close you had come to a tragedy.

As you watched the medics tend to Hotch, your heart ached for him. He stood by the ambulance, his jaw slightly swollen from the punch he had taken. But even with the pain etched on his face, he wore an expression of quiet determination, ensuring that everyone was accounted for and safe before he turned his attention to himself.

“Just a bruise,” he assured the medic, brushing off their concern as they examined him closely. You knew better than to believe him; Hotch was tough, but he was not invincible. It frustrated you that he wouldn’t take a moment to acknowledge his own pain, especially after risking everything to save you.

You took a deep breath, summoning your strength as you approached him, your heart pounding with gratitude. “Hotch,” you called softly, drawing his attention.

He turned to you, his dark eyes softening as he took in your appearance — your tired eyes, the way you clutched the blanket around your shoulders, and the tear-streaked remnants of your mascara. It broke his heart to see you like this, vulnerable and shaken.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern, despite the medic still prodding at his jaw.

You nodded, though your voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, just… Thank you for saving me back there.”

Hotch’s gaze held yours for a moment, and you could see the weight of what had happened settling on him, too. “You did well,” he replied, his tone sincere. “You stayed calm under pressure, and that was impressive.”

A small smile flickered on your lips, but it quickly faded as you glanced at the medics still fussing over him. “You need to let them check you out properly,” you urged, stepping closer.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s just a bruise. I’ve had worse.”

“Hotch, please,” you pressed, the worry evident in your voice. “You took a hit to protect me. The least you can do is make sure you’re okay.”

He paused, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile as he regarded your persistence. “I’ll be fine, I promise. But thank you for worrying about me.”

“Of course, I worry about you,” you said, your voice steady despite the emotional tumult swirling inside you. “You mean a lot to me.”

His expression shifted the soft intensity in his gaze making your heart flutter. “You mean a lot to me, too.”

Just then, one of the medics gestured to Hotch to sit on the ledge of the open ambulance. Reluctantly, he complied, and you watched as they carefully examined the swelling on his jaw.

You took a seat next to him, your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, feeling a need to be close to him after everything that had happened. The warmth of his presence was reassuring, a balm for your frayed nerves.

“You were incredible back there,” you murmured, glancing up at him as he winced slightly from the medic applying ice to his face. “I don’t think I could have done what you did.”

He shrugged, a slight grimace crossing his features. “I had to protect you. That’s my job.”

“Still, it doesn’t make it any less brave,” you replied, your voice firm. “You jumped in without a second thought.”

A silence fell between you, filled only with the soft sounds of the medics discussing Hotch’s injury. He turned to face you, the tenderness in his eyes evident. “I couldn’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Not after all the things that has happened.”

Your heart soared at his words, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. In the chaos and fear, a bond had formed between you, and it felt unbreakable.

“Thank you for being there,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his gaze envelop you like a protective shield. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “I’ll always be there for you. Always.”

Just then, the medic finished his examination, giving Hotch a nod of approval. “You’re good to go, Agent. Just keep an eye on that bruise, and you should be fine.”

Hotch stood, brushing off his pants as he glanced around for the rest of the team, who were now regrouping a short distance away. He seemed to be contemplating something, his expression a mix of determination and concern.

“Come on,” he said, his tone shifting back to its usual authority. “Let’s head back and regroup with the team. We still have a case to wrap up.”

You nodded, standing alongside him as you both made your way toward the others. And just then, the connection you had felt between each other had been wrapped up and put on a shelf for another time.

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Business Decisions

He's not who people might think he is.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, Unstable AU, set prior/during the Jungkook storyline, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, strangers to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut

Length: 3k Words

-Masterlist

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Min Yoongi is, despite his looks and quiet nature, a very kind person. Or at least, that's what some very selected people will tell, if one was to ask them.  

His tail softly sways behind him as he keeps an eye on the main operational panel in front of him, while you watch. His cat-like ear snaps a bit irritated at something- when his eyes turn towards you, glaring. “can you.. stop staring?” He requests, and you nod, instead turning to look out the large window of the spaceship instead. You’re quiet, but not mute- having talked to him quite a bit before. Maybe you simply don’t speak much, or don’t put much value in.. smalltalk.  

That’s fine by him. He doesn’t either. 

He's found you- or rather, you found him- just hours earlier at an outpost, asking him to take you along to another location in exchange for a small amount of money. Where he went next you didn't care- you only needed a ride to get around, most likely used to this kind of life, since you'd obviously chosen him very specifically amongst all the other options at the bustling restaurant.

In hindsight, it made sense that you approached him despite his grim appearance- he was the shortest and least threatening looking species in that restaurant at the time, and was also one of the only one's there without any company at all. You're clearly smart about this whole process of finding a ride from one place to another-

otherwise, you wouldn't have lived like this for so long, having done this for years, according to you.

“There is.. Food over there. If you’re hungry.” He tells you, and you look over to spot the metal trunk in a corner, before you nod at him, not moving at all however. 

“I’m not.” You answer, though your stomach growls as if to disagree, making you clearly a bit ashamed of it, eyes widening at being betrayed by your own body like this. 

“Just eat. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to give it to you.” He mumbles to himself, resuming his task of checking the ship’s systems again while you stay seated where he’d last told you to sit. You still won’t move, and he’s unsure why not- but he’s also aware that he shouldn’t get too invested in you. You’re gonna be dropped off next stop, and that’s gonna be it- which is for the best, because getting involved with humans is never a very good idea.  

And he’s also still on a mission to get his revenge- and secure his place in the foodchain, to be no longer seen as nothing but a docile little pet. A mission that might as well kill him- and if he can avoid pulling anyone down with him, he surely will. 

When he notices your eyes blinking longer and longer, he walks to fetch a sleeping bag from one of the other metal trunk in the corner, to offer it to you. “Sleep. It’ll still be a few more hours until we’ve reached the next outpost.” He says, and you take the sleeping bag from him with a thankful nod, before you spread it out right on the floor where you sit, to crawl into it and lay down. He has a suspicion what your way of earning money had been until now, but with your behavior so obvious, it’s very clear to him now.  

It makes him upset. The fact that you’ve been driven so far just to somehow survive.  

Either way, he stays awake to both keep himself safe just incase he’s misjudged you and your intentions, and to make sure the old and very small spaceship keeps it’s course as it sometimes tends to deviate over time due to the old navigation system. And yeah, maybe he also can’t help his instincts as well- 

Unintentionally guarding you while you sleep, eyes always checking up on you any time you move in your sleep.  

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Min Yoongi was born on Zoldos- a small, cold and relatively poor planet, which had been industrialized for ages. He remembers his father making toys out of junk he found while working at the metal factory each day, turning trash into small spaceships for Yoongi to play with.  

Most of his time however was spent with his mother, and the many children she’d foster over the years of his childhood- many of them he’d see as his sisters, as all of them would be girls given up by their families, since in his culture, they’re said to just be expensive and too much work to raise. Maybe this way of growing up, helping his mother with the young kids every day while she taught him everything he needed for his future, made him into the man he is today.  

His father had always been described as ‘unusually soft’ compared to what is usually expected and seen in his kind- Xaqal people tending to be combative, easily irritated, and quick to escalate situations into physical violence to defend themselves from others. But his father was already uninterested in any of the usual past-time activities his coworkers would indulge in, like underground fighting, or gambling- rather spending his free time home with his son, foster children and partner, which was unusual in itself. Usually, partners of his kind don’t stay together after their children learn how to walk- but Yoongi remembers that even when his mother passed, his father would continue to live at the same house, to find new homes for the remaining children, before he moved away as well once Yoongi decided to leave the planet.  

Yoongi is still in contact with his father, and doesn’t believe that he should’ve been raised any different than how he was. 

But his now rather soft and kind character comes with a price to pay- with most people on other planets not taking too kindly to him and his friendly nature at first. Friendships don’t pay your bills after all, so the first lesson the young man had to learn back then, was to toughen up, and start thinking of only yourself first and foremost. Getting attached to others was a risk to take, and would most likely end in a burden one might think of unnecessary.  

Even so, Yoongi has made friends along the way. From a very, very charismatic guy named Seokjin and his mother on Cryon, or the stoic and self-admitted younger ‘Asshole’ human-Bolku hybrid going by the name of Jungkook. But other than that, he keeps himself independent- away from others.  

However, for some reason, he’s now sitting with you on a bench on the outpost while his spaceship is being refueled, having bought you some warm food to eat, despite your active arguments against that. Maybe because you’re obviously in need of protection, or because you’re not a threat whatsoever- but he feels like he should at least make sure you’ll be okay on this outpost, before he’ll leave you here.  

Deep down, he knows it’s not the question if you end up getting into a situation where you’ll be killed- but more so, when.  

“What are... your capabilities?” Yoongi asks after a moment, watching your hands as they tear apart a piece of bread to dip it into your hot soup he bought. A warm and filling meal was a good idea to him, since it’ll keep you energized for longer than just a snack or fast food.  

You look up at him, caught off guard, as you swallow down, thinking.  

“Hm..” You hum as you think. “I.. Can read maps pretty well. And I’m good at cleaning.” You say. “But I could probably learn other things pretty quickly, if needed. It depends on the job I could get.” You explain, and Yoongi nods.  

“So if you had to learn about another species’ health and how to care for it, you could learn quickly?” He asks, and you nod.  

“If.. Given enough recourses to teach myself.” You mumble, continuing to eat. He’s getting the feeling you’ve not had a filling meal in a while with how eager you are to finish all of it.  

“I will not offer you monetary compensation.” He says, and at that, you look up again. “But instead a place to sleep, regular food, and.. Basic protection.” Yoongi explains to you, and at that, you instantly nod.  

“I can do anything!” You chirp, desperate- and he carefully pushes you back down by your shoulder, calming you down again. “Really-” 

“I believe you.” He nods. “But Be aware that I am not just some traveler.” He remarks, and you nod.  

“I understand.” You say. 

“Hm. If that’s the case-” He starts, looking over to a small shop that sells different electronics. “-I’ll get the necessary equipment to finalize our agreement. Stay here- and don’t talk to anyone.” He commands, and you nod, continuing to eat while he gets up to walk into the shop. 

Many of the people inside this shop are wearing the distinctive blinking tiny tracker around their necks- either from a simple leather collar, something more sleek like a silver hoop, or even one with a chain. It’s to be expected, as most of what is sold here is equipment for ‘personnel’, as it’s called across the galaxy, after the term ‘slave’ had been outlawed and categorized as a slur.  

Yoongi can feel the eyes on him, since the tall, green-skinned lady at the counter most likely waiting just like the rest of them for another person to follow him to buy equipment for him, as it’s normal for his kind- but the second he picks out a combination of a tracker, and EID tag, and a simple, silver collar that wouldn’t stain or sit too tight around your neck, people become interested.  

“Size is a bit small for you, kitty.” The alien woman giggles, scanning the items to add the price of everything together. “You know how to set the EID up?” She says, clicking at the end of her sentences a foreign tone, similar to an insect. 

“I know how it works.” He tells her, voice stable and monotone, something he taught himself to never give away any sign of his actual emotions. Because showing them will show weakness- and Yoongi needs to keep up an appearance of indifference at all times, just so people can never quite figure him out.  

People naturally fear the unknown, down the line, no matter the species.  

“Alright. Just out of curiosity though..” She says, clicking sounding again as she narrows her dark eyes at him while he pays. “...who the hell wants to be under the command of a Xaqal?” She says, some people in the small store giggling to themselves as if a joke had been told.  

“Someone who will live a fairly comfortable life from now on.” He simply answers, payment confirmed by her system, before he takes the bag of items, and leaves- gazes following him long after he exited the store.  

He’s relieved to still find you right where he left you, no one seemingly having tried to take you away, or worse yet- so he taps your shoulder to gain your attention, nodding towards his ship in the distance. “Let’s go. I need to set up your EID after we take off.” He says, and you nod, getting up to follow him.  

“Are- are you sure I’m a good choice?” You ask, walking after him like some lost pet, eager to keep up with his rather fast pace. For a Xaqal, he’s surprisingly tall- not quite as tall as some of the other human’s you’ve met, which normally are considered a shorter species, but also not as short as some of the Xaqals you’ve seen in the past.  

“Are you trying to sway my mind?” He wonders, opening the cargo door to his spaceship, before he climbs in- noticing how you don’t follow. So he walks back, and has to swallow down a laugh- because you clearly struggle to somehow pull yourself up on the iron steps, which are too high off the ground for you to properly reach with your legs. “...well, at least you won’t take up too much space on the ship.” He mumbles to himself, before he holds onto one of the metal handles on the sides, before he pulls you up by your arm so that you can make it onto the steps, able to finally climb inside.  

He’ll adjust the steps in the future. Maybe add one. Or rather three. 

Back in the main navigation center of the ship, where your sleeping bag is still laying in front of the front windows, you sit down right there, as if you’ve accepted this spot as your place to exist.  

The ship calms after it breaks orbit, softly flying through the empty space while Yoongi sets up the EID tag for you. The electronic identification device opens a new window on his control panel as he places it on the scanner he has, asking for him to input the necessary information- and he looks over at you, where you sit, looking out the window.  

“Once I set this up, it can’t just be undone.” He tells you, and you snap your head towards him, before you nod. “Alright.” He mumbles putting in his own information and ID number as your set ‘Employer’- scanning the chip placed onto the bone of his forearm, before he waves you over. “Put your arm here.” He tells you, and you do- though nothing is scanned at all, no matter how you twist or turn your arm. Yoongi’s brows furrow. “Where’s your ID-chip?” He asks, and you perk up, before you turn around, pointing somewhat to a spot on your back.  

“My spine- it should be between my shoulders.” You say.  

“Spine?” He mumbles, unsure. The spine is not a good spot to place an ID chip, no matter how small it is- it could still dislodge and get in between important nerves or even the vertabrae, causing damage that would be potentially fatal. “Why is it there?” He asks, picking up the scanner to run it over your back- a beep signalling that the chip had been found, and sucessfully read by the device.  

“As far as I know, most humans and Yon get it there, because its harder to get out.” You explain, having turned around to curiously watch Yoongi tap away all the info into your future identification. “Because, you know, Humans and Yon are popular Personnel. People would just chop their arms off and exchange it for a prosthetic later after they'd take them and put them up for sale. So to combat that, we get the chip on the spine instead.” You say, and Yoongi cringes to himself, realizing now why he sees so many humans and Yon people with a prosthetic.  

“I’ll research any risks to make sure you’re not doing any tasks that might end up immobilizing you.” He mumbles as he finishes up the settings, the red blinking light on the EID tag turning a steady green, signalling that it’s ready to be worn.  

“Oh, don’t worry. The chip is attached to the bone, so it doesn’t move.” You inform him, and that reassures him quite a bit, as he nods, and uses quite a lot of force to clip the tag onto the silver collar- metal snapping into place, making it hard to get it off again.  

“Alright. Come here.” He tells you, and you almost proudly stand straight, offering your neck to him as he clips the collar around you- electronic lock clicking shut, never to open again for anyone else but him. “Is that alright?” He asks, and you nod, while he tests- slipping two fingers between the metal and your neck, just to make sure it’s not too tight. “Alright.” 

“Alright.” You mirror, getting only a mild reaction from him.  

“I’ll order some books and electronic information devices for you to study. We’ll pick them up at the next outpost.” He informs you, and you nod, taking this as a signal that you’ve been dismissed- so you walk back to the sleeping bag, sitting down on it to look out the window again.  

“Can I.. sleep a bit?” You wonder, and Yoongi nods.  

“I don’t need you right now, so you can rest.” He accepts, and at that, you eagerly crawl into the sleeping bag again to sleep once more, giving him a moment to think about what he’d just done.  

He blames his instincts, the fact that his kind lives in groups and usually prefers company at all times. Maybe it’s the fact that he actually does need someone to be able to help take care of his health if a job went south. Or maybe, he just can’t shed the way he’s been raised, even though he’s not that kind person anymore. Even still, he feels odd, looking at you asleep in front of those large windows.  

Like he just got himself entangled into something a lot more complicated than he believes right now. 

[mogamuncher]

Brucie is a menace to society: The Thesis

Urrgh the brainworms got to me again, so we're talking about some funky Brucie Wayne headcanons:

• There's a difference between Brucie Wayne interacting with the general public and random rich folks that he isn't too close with vs Brucie Wayne interacting with business partners, friends, or people Brucie is generally a bit more trusting towards

• To the general public and the more distant rich folks? Brucie is a himbo dork, a hot playboy manwhore who donates to charity all the time, a little dumb, a heart of gold, definitely seen as way too naive. Brucie is just a well-intentioned goofball who is very good looking, he's clumsy and kinda adorable, people just generally like him because of his Vibes™. Also just very good with kids, though his habit of adoption is brought up a lot in jokes

• But with long time business partners, friends and people he'd be closer to? Brucie is 100% a smug bitch, absolutely insufferable. He's like, still seem as mostly stupid and vapid, still a manwhore, but as they get to know Brucie more others definitely start to catch on whenever he's just fucking with people. Brucie can no longer get away with pretending like he's naive anymore, because these specific people have 100% caught him saying certain things solely because he thought it would be just so fucking funny

• Because of this, Brucie tends to be more playful with this select group of people, being less of an adorable himbo and more like a loud snarky friend, he's absolutely hilarious if you're actually in on the joke, has an awful habit of teasing others as well

• If you're particularly grouchy or insufferable then Brucie will dedicate the rest of his day to bother you in particular. He can and will just make up any excuse to have a meeting, or to tour at someone else's office, or anything and other to simply be able to annoy bitter people from a close range

• His biggest victims: Oliver Queen, Lex Luthor and Harvey Dent. These three will never know peace, the moment they got close enough to get to the more snarky side of Brucie it was game over. It was really common to see Bruce waltz through parties acting like his normal himbo self, only to do an immediate shift in attitude once he spotted one of them, the press usually found it hilarious

• Lex is the one that suffers under this the most since he's the bitchiest man alive, so Brucie is basically in speed dial to annoy this man 24/7, he's an actual menace about Lex to the point where he will make the trip to metropolis solely to piss Lex off on a completely random Wednesday. They're both the pettiest people to ever exist so the annoyance is actually kinda mutual, but Brucie often wins out since his reactions aren't really fully genuine (on account of being, well, Brucie), something that Lex is endlessly bitter on. To this day no one can tell if they're genuinely actually friends, or if they just hate each other

• Oliver does not get hit by the full brunt of the Brucie Wayne Effect™ as Lex does, but they both still snark at each other all the time, to the point that having a conversation with the two of them present becomes a comedy routine really fast. The accounts of the poor poor survivors that have ever third wheeled their conversations say that it was vaguely reminiscent of being the ball in a game of verbal tennis, as was read in a particularly descriptive article released by several bitter interviewers

• Now, of course Harvey is actually aware that Brucie isn't really fully real, like, he knows that it's mainly a persona, he's actually had full conversations and memories with Bruce instead of Brucie. Still though, Brucie and Harvey are like a menace duo, being targeted by both of them is a sentence to being messed with or manipulated, it's actually really impressive what they can get done together. Of course, they both use their methods for good, and to annoy people that are assholes while still somehow being polite, so it's more funny than anything, really

• Brucie is also just generally more mellow around Harvey, being less snarky and sometimes even quiet, staying in a sweet spot between Bruce and Brucie. Seeing Smug Bitch™ Brucie Wayne chill out a little whenever Harvey was around is a bit surreal to everyone else though, Lex and Oliver will forever complain about it

• Once Harvey became Two Face, Lex and Oliver both actually had some tact (yes, I know right) and gave Brucie some space to deal with it. A week later after the incident Brucie visited both of them with a big confident smile, beer and an invite to a party with only the family friends

• Not much changed after that, Lex is still insufferable, Oliver is still playing along with Brucie's bullshit to some extent, and Brucie is still a menace to society disguised as a harmless himbo playboy. Though sometimes the clear absence of Harvey is felt, especially whenever those quieter and softer moments of Brucie mellowing out simply cease to exist entirely

[thegrinningghost]

My Oh My Mentality : Transformers Comfort Headcanons

Prompt: headcanons for how different Cybertronians would help someone with a different mental illness/in an emotional state

Characters: Bumblebee, Wheeljack, Evac (Transformers Ride), Brainstorm, Starscream, Soundwave (+Shockwave Cameo)

—

Bumblebee

Selective Mutism : an anxiety disorder in which a person who is otherwise capable of speech becomes unable to speak when exposed to specific situations, specific places, or to specific people, one or multiple of which serve as triggers. This is caused by the freeze response

Having lost his voice before, let’s just say the Bee knows how it feels to want to talk but being unable to

He’s just glad that you can talk most of the time

Whenever you get stressed out, he picks you up and walks out with you on his shoulder

Usually you guys head out of the city, whether he’s driving you out of there or walking out

Music is his go-to to calm himself down, but he won’t blast it around you

His playlist has become yours with some edits

Once you guys are out of most bots’ reaches, he sets you down lets you be

You’ll talk when you’re ready

And when you do, he’ll make sure to enthusiastically listen and congratulate you

That takes some serious strength!

Of course, until then, you can do whatever you want

Want more music? On it.

Want to adventure somewhere or simply move around? Cool!

Want to just have someone to hug or something to touch? He’s ready for you.

Bee just really wants to care for you and make sure that no matter what, you know he’ll be there to listen

In the few times where Decepticons have found you two, he immediately fights them off

With you far away somewhere safe, of course

If an Autobot finds you guys, he usually lets them be, but if they try to talk to you, he’ll beep them off

Out of all the bots, he really adores humans, and will do anything to care for you all

And if this is one of those ways to show his support?

Well, he’ll give all the love he can

Wheeljack

Learning Disability : a disability that affects the acquisition of knowledge or skills, in particular any of various neurodevelopmental conditions affecting the learning and use of specific academic skills such as reading, writing, or mathematics

He’s heard that noise before

That frustrated, about to breakdown or destroy something sort-of-noise

But unlike Ratchet, there’s not much you can exactly destroy in a place built for giant, alien robots

But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a breakdown

Obviously he’ll ask what’s wrong, but when you tell him, he’s going to be awfully confused

What do you mean you don’t understand?

Out of all the humans he’s interacted with, they’ve all been able to understand in at least some way shape or form, even if it wasn’t easy or not something they enjoy

But you’re different

And curse this curious, bastardly robot, but he’ll drop any important thing he’s doing to learn more

Trying to save another bot’s life? Not as important as learning about humans

Whether you have Dyspraxia, Dyslexia, Dysgraphia or Dyscalculia, he’s going to try to help you

After listening, of course

He’ll probably just end up doing whatever you’re trying to do for you, but that’s only so you can get to sleep

Staying up all night, he’s making gadgets for you to try in the morning

Very much proud father whenever you make some step towards progress (dad two reference???)

Albeit, he is a bit disappointed when nothing he makes helps, and while he knows he can’t do much to help, he still really tries to

When you start beating yourself up for being different and “stupid” or “illiterate,” he’ll shut you down

Wheeljack has lived long enough to see how that can affect a bot’s processing of themself and others

For humans, he doesn’t want to know how worse it might be

When you try to dismiss him, his anger immediately flares

He hides whatever you’re working on somewhere you won’t be able to reach it (probably somewhere high)

Then he tells the bots to take you somewhere

Bee will take you to the beach

Optimus will take you for a drive

Ratchet will let you continue working, but monitor you to stop those thoughts or help you relax when you start stressing out (don’t tell Wheeljack)

If no one is able to take you somewhere, he’ll take you out for a drive to wherever you feel like

And he’ll just let you rant

He figures you need it, and if you let him, he’ll give his input, too

While he doesn’t exactly get your struggles, he’s incredibly willing to learn

And hey, curiosity hasn’t killed this cat! (yet)

Evac

Social Anxiety : an intense, persistent fear of being watched and judged by others

Being tasked with evacuating the All Spark isn’t an easy job

And while Evac has gotten used to feeling the constant judgment of everyone around him, it still bothers him

When he found out you experienced something similar, it was a joyous surprise

Even better when he finds out it has a name

You two are incredibly socially anxious, and while you have your suspisions on which bots also were, it’s clear that years of war have made it the least possible threatening thing to them

Evac, however, has not faced centuries of war

Neither have you

So you’re in it together

After every mission Evac goes on, he always comes to find you

The Autobots stress him out, so before they can find him to congratulate him, he comes to you to practice talking and manage his breathing

When you get stressed out, you find him

Like I said, you’re in it together

You two memorize what causes the other anxiety attacks so you can better help and comfort them when they’re going through it

You guys even prepare things to help!

Blankets, hugs, fidget toys, etc.[

You each have your favorite haptics

The dynamic you two share is best described as a symbiotic relationship

You help each other in the best ways you can, and honestly

I don’t imagine either of you would have it any other way

Brainstorm

Nervous / Mental Breakdown : a state of severe emotional and mental distress that significantly impairs a person's daily functioning

As a constant overthinker, he gets it

Sometimes you just can’t stop thinking

And while the reaction for him is his systems overheating, your reaction is much more different

Truly, seeing a tiny creature usually full of energy, spunk, and many ideas suddenly get so overwhelmed is weird

You start shaking, maybe crying or holding your head

Throwaway comments are made about wishing to be back in the era where you would’ve been given a autopsy

Brainstorm doesn’t know what that is, but he really doesn’t like the sound of it

When you try to stand to go for somewhere to lay down or curl up and cry, he picks you up

Leaving is not an option

He’ll carry you to the lab (or a desk if you’re already there)

You’ll get all set up with blankets, stuffed animals and ways to communicate with him that don’t force you into being verbal

If you need something else, he’ll get you it, but otherwise he’ll just let you talk or sit in silence while he works

Sometimes other bots walk in

Perceptor usually offers a sort of gentle pat to you

Starscream and his trine immediately leave

Sometimes they come back with random items – like cats coming back with dead crickets, mice or gophers, though that isn’t usually what they bring

Megatron rarely walks in, but on the rare occasion he does, Brainstorm throws something at him

Not really with bad intentions, but more so just to make you laugh

He figures a distraction will help, and bonus points if it’s funny

Though being hit by some random, possibly toxic or mutilated object has made Megatron steer clear

Overall, Brainstorm will always try to help a fellow overthinker

It’s the least he can do while you spend your time on a ship full of giant killer robots

Starscream

PTSD : a mental health condition that's caused by an extremely stressful or terrifying event; post traumatic stress disorder

Let’s be honest here, he’s not fond of you

In fact, he may never be!

… but this may very well have pushed him closer to empathy towards you than he wanted or suspected

Starscream knows PTSD like the back of his hand

So when you start getting flashbacks, he starts shoving people out of the room

Doesn’t matter if it’s Megatron’s throne room, the lab, or the hallway, it won’t be anymore

Once everyone is out and away, and he’s sure none of them are listening in or spying on him, he’s right down next to you

He won’t be too confident at first, as he’s never done this before, but soon enough, he’ll get that fixed

Afterall, how can you believe a king someone when they aren’t confident in what they’re saying?

After reminding you that it’s all just a flashback, he moves to try to ground you

Well, he doesn’t move at all, but he does quietly guide you towards something you can hold, touch, or hug

Which, sometimes, ends up being him

He seems to hate it, but he gets over it eventually

Star will make sure to audibly vent in the hopes that you’ll follow with your own breathing, no matter how shaky

It isn’t all the time, but after so many times of it happening, he’ll warm up to you enough to crack jokes

They’re really bad, but if it gets a sob-mixed laugh from you, that’s something!

You two will be sitting for a while, and it’ll be pretty nice

Though, he does scold you when you’re feeling better

It’s mostly to retain his status as a fearsome Decepticon, though he also really means it

You scared him when you started going through that

Like I said, when he starts getting more comfortable around you, he’ll open up about his PTSD, too

This causes you guys to plan flights and other activities

Sometimes you convince him to invite the other members of the High Guard so you all can talk, but most of the time you guys go by yourselves

Really, it doesn’t matter what happens afterwards

What matters, is that you have managed to get the scheming, power-hungry Starscream to begin to open up and be kind again

Soundwave

Sensory Overload / Overstimulation : a state where the brain is overwhelmed by excessive sensory input from one or more of the five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell

You wouldn’t expect he’d be the best at this sort of thing, considering he processes lots of information on a constant basis

But he does understand

Sort of

Downloading so much data can drain him far too much

Once he passed out while Starscream and his trine were reporting to Megatron

It was a whole deal he doesn’t want to recount

But the point is that he gets how you feel

Nobody on the ship is exactly observant, him and Shockwave especially

They aren’t oblivious though, and no matter who realizes first, they’ll take immediate action

Most of the time it’s Soundwave who leads you out of the room

Taking you to one of their berth rooms, he’ll lower the lights upon entering

He’ll usually launch Ravage and Laserbeak to stay with you as they can have some pretty funky textures

You’ll be left alone until him or Shockwave is done with work, but until then, they’ll send anyone who comes to bother them to you

Mostly just to check in on you and bring you something

Just because they are violent, doesn’t mean they aren’t understanding

In fact, the Decepticons are a large community of very understanding and empathetic individuals, it’s just that years of war has made that side darker and torn

Light hasn’t reached that flower in far too long

Eventually, whoever is done with work first will come sit in the same room with you, and the other will join later

If you need to cry or hug them, they’ll allow it

Sometimes they walk in to find Laserbeak and Ravage cuddled close to you and you fast asleep

No matter the cause or the outcome, you can put faith in them for giving you a place to get away from the world when it becomes too much

Your care will never be too much for them

[bots-and-cons]

Omg your requests are open yeeeey(sorry, I really like your writing)

So, I read your rules again and I would like to ask for a "continuation" of a headcanon, where the reader would have stars in place of pupils that change color according to your feelings (something like Oshi no ko)

Since you only accept writing for two characters at a time, i have selected four characters for you to choose from. (I will be happy with any choice you make)

Ratchet/Optimus/Megatron/Bulkhead

Feel free to ignore this request if you don't have any ideas or don't want to write. Drink water and sleep well 💜

A/N: Thank you so much, I'm so happy to hear you like my writing. Remember to stay hydrated too and sleep well :D Here's the other post with the same theme

~Optimus Prime~

Optimus is not the best at reading expressions on cybertronians, much less humans

So the fact that he can tell a lot about how you're feeling by the color of your eyes is a major advantage

He is very observant at least in some ways, so he does learn what your eye colors mean, and he does it in record time

The more "negative" the emotion, the darker your eyes get

If you're really angry or grieving or super scared, your eyes go a really dark shade of blue or even black

Optimus notices even the slightest changes in your eye color, and if your eyes get even a shade too dark, he always asks what's on your mind

He does love seeing how your eyes get really bright when you see him after a long time, because it's an easy sign for you being happy to see him

He doesn't test how the whole thing works, he just figures it out as he goes along

Optimus also thinks your eyes are beautiful, even if a bit peculiar

~Ratchet~

Your eyes are an anomaly for sure, and he's of course worried that it might affect your health

Your eyes just work a bit differently, but they're healthy

Ratchet thinks the whole color indicator thing is pretty convenient, but he doesn't use those words when saying it to you, because it might sound a bit clinical

And he doesn't want you to think he's just looking at them as a medical thing

He does think your eyes are very pretty, but the color thing is very odd in his opinion

Ratchet is much better at reading expressions than say Optimus, but he does still think the fact that your eyes react so easily to your emotions is very handy

Of course he can't tell the specific emotion without talking to you, but it gives him some idea of what you're feeling

[inkblot-inc]

DEATH ROLL

Summary: When you're at the end of the rope and you're given one last chance, what lengths are you willing to go to climb your way out?

Pairing: Crocodile!Hybrid!Reader x Snake!Hybrid!Wanda Maximoff

Warning(s): Mature & Dark Themes; Depictions of violence, a general warning for racketeering and all that that entails my guy, strong language… extensive Identity Theft I guess?

Note(s): It’s a brand spankin’ new AU bud! Hell, I've seen the movie Bobby Z about a billion times since I was… probably too young to understand what I was watching, but rewatching it as an adult led me inevitably down this particular rabbit hole, of course with my own changes and shenanigans and all that good stuff. Reader written as a butch lesbian that uses he/him pronouns for clarification. All of that being said, I hope you enjoy :3

Word Count: basically 2.5k

ALSO: *squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Louisiana State Penitentiary (Angola, Louisiana)

It’s not like you were ever  meant for greatness. Born to a croc hybrid mother who could never hold onto a man, raised in a city where even the rain felt sticky and oppressive most days. You were  a burnt end, a measly little asterisk in a world that couldn’t pretend to care long enough to reference properly. You grew up on the streets of New Orleans, moving from foster home to foster home until the system gave up on you entirely. By the time you were eighteen, you may have been a two-bit thug, but you’d already accumulated a rap sheet longer than most politicians' promises.

But if there was one thing you weren’t gonna do, it was give a damn. About anything. Especially the people who told you what to do. And by the time you were closing out your twenties, you were locked up on death row for a slew of robberies, assaults, and eventually manslaughter. It sounded about right, you going out this way; a selfish coward that came into the world with a crack and a whimper about to fizzle out with no impression to leave behind.

But then, on one particularly hot night in a cell that felt more like a coffin, you’d gotten an offer.

Inside a dimly lit prison cell, You sat with your back pressed against the cold cement wall, staring at the flickering bulb highlighting the peeling white paint above you. It’s all you really could do in the  cramped space, the scutes along your tail scraping against the concrete floor as it lashed idly back and forth. The rhythmic tick of a clock echoed through the room, its sound blending with the distant hum of the crickets outside. It was a lonely, suffocating place — but at least it was a familiar place after all this time.

The unlocking of your cell door broke you out of your thoughts.

The warden entered, his face expressionless as always, but there was something different about him tonight. He sighed before he spoke. “Y/Ln. You have a guest… With  a proposition for you,” the warden said, moving aside to make room for a man behind him. This “guest” wore a pressed suit and his eyes hid behind sunglasses propped up on his face like the poster boy for some secret agency. The man held a file with him that he  dropped onto the small table in front of you.

You didn’t answer immediately. You’d heard enough rumors around the penitentiary. Deals made in the shadows, trades that only the desperate and the damned would consider.

“You’ve been selected for a special mission,” the guard continued. “A chance to get out of here alive.”

Despite everything, your brow raised in intrigue. “Get out alive?”

“That’s right,” the guard replied, pushing the file closer. “We need you to become someone else,” the agent continued, his tone casual, as if talking about a simple job. “More specifically, we need you to impersonate Boon Ballou.”

You stopped fiddling with the corner of the manila folder. “Boon Ballou?” You had heard the name. Everyone had, human and hybrid alike. The infamous drug and arms dealer with charisma that could charm a snake and a temper that could end a life. The kind of person who operated in the shadows of the world, pulling strings and ruining lives. “I’m sure he’s probably off in the Bahamas doing fuck all, ain’t he? Why don’t you just go and hunt the real thing down and leave me out of it?”

The agent's words were blunt and left no room for debate. “Because Boon Ballou is dead. He was killed a year ago during a botched escape attempt from a Colombian prison.”

Well that was definitely a reason…

“No one other than the authorities knows this information. So that’s why you’re gonna slip right in to assume Boon’s identity, Y/n”

They sure sounded like they had this all figured out for you. It didn’t even sound like you had a choice. “I don’t even look like him,” You eventually spoke up, your voice laced with wariness and a bit of disbelief.

The agent smiled, a cold, calculating expression. “I’d beg to differ. Aside from you both bein’ crooked crocs, you got the same general build and the same scales. You two even have the same damn face, Y/Ln. You could walk right into his operation, and no one would know the difference.”

“I’m sorry, can we double back to the part where you want me to play a dead guy?” You leaned forward, your voice laced with incredulity. “Why do you even want me? Is it slim pickins out there in Quantico or wherever the hell you’re from?”

The warden smacked you upside the head as the agent ignored your jab and opened the folder after he flipped it around.

You stared at the folder, reaching your cuffed hands forward to leaf through its contents. Photos of Boon, the swagger in his walk that translated even through static photographs. The designer suits and gold chains he wore glinted in the light of the pictures taken in the daytime. The file also had pictures of Ballou’s associates, with detailed entries on Boon Ballou’s exploits, his connections, and his patterns of behavior. There was even a small baggy that held the gold custom-made piercings he’d had in his face. Hell, it was as if his entire existence had been reduced to these documents.

There was one photo that caught your eye: a woman, stunning, with dark brown hair and the telltale piercing eyes and scaly accents of a snake hybrid. Wanda Maximoff. She was listed as one of Ballou’s last known lovers, someone he’d had a deep connection with before his rather lackluster death.

“What do I get outta this?” You quipped, your voice sharp.

“The deal’s simple. We get you in with Boon’s crew, and get you close to his operations. You help us take down Ballou’s empire, take down the members of his circle who’ve also been slipping under our radar for years, and put this shit to bed dead in the dirt. They have one of our operatives captive as we speak, and your final test will be the trade off to get our guy back in exchange for you. All of Boon’s biggest players should be there, so this is a one and done deal. You play this right, you walk free. No more death row. No more prison. You’ll be free to go with a clean slate.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And if I fail?”

“You won’t,” the guard said, his voice suddenly cold. “You’ll be dead before you realize you made a mistake.”

----------

Eight months later

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded… And it didn’t even sound easy in the first place-

You had to change everything — your voice, your mannerisms, the way you carried yourself. You’d spent the last few months in seclusion, with a team of experts helping you get the look just right. Every detail was crucial.

You idly fiddled with the two new golden snake bite piercings while biting the inside of your lip. They were the first thing you were made acquainted with damn near right after your agreement left your mouth. You got new ink months ago too, all pieces the OG Boon had, but they weren’t nearly as much of an adjustment as the fucking metal in your mouth.

The cosplay aside, Boon Ballou wasn’t just a name; he was an institution. Every piece of the kingpin’s past had to be learned and studied, every habit adopted. It was like walking around with your gut sucked in until you forget you were doing it at all.

Nobody even called you Y/n anymore.

You’d spent hours in front of a mirror, practicing Boon’s sneer, the tilt of his head, the slow drag of a cigar between his fingers. Your diet had shifted to match Ballou’s preferences — whiskey instead of beer, crawfish instead of steak.

You were fed stories of Ballou’s notorious escapades, his love life, and, most importantly, his final days — how he’d disappeared from public view for more than two years now, last heard going off to The Philippines for business before his body turned up in Colombia where he’d very quietly died. Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on who you ask), the underworld kingpin of the Hollywood South had an operation that practically ran itself while he was gone.

And now Boon Ballou was coming back.

-----

Then came the night of the deal.

The night was humid, the sky hanging heavy with the promise of rain. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you could hear your heart pumping in your ears.

The deal was supposed to go smoothly. Now dressed in Boon Ballou's signature black leather waistcoat over a suit, you stood surrounded by armed agents, the tension crackling in the air. You were about to be handed over to the waiting criminals, Boon Ballou’s people, in exchange for a government agent who looked like he’d seen better days. You didn’t know how long he’d been over there or what he’d seen, but it was painted thick on his face. The melodramatics aside, it was supposed to be a simple handoff.

But most things start off simple until they’re not.

You had been betrayed. You inevitably outlived your usefulness to the government agents escorting you across the territory line. They’d planned to shoot you while you walked across the invisible line, gun you down, and leave your body behind as evidence that the criminal empire was dismantling itself.

“Boon Ballou” was meant to die here and tonight.

The first shot came from behind you. For the first time in your life, you felt a real rush of fear. But you had a way of surviving. You didn’t think—you just acted, charging through the chaos and breaking free. You spun, using your tail to knock an agent off their feet and then tore through the surrounding chaos, all teeth and claws. Gunfire erupted around you, but your strength and speed had always been your advantage. You were a croc, after all—built for survival.

You dashed into the thick shadows of the bayou, moving through the dense foliage, but no matter how fast you ran, the shots never stopped. In the distance, you could hear the shouts of your would-be killers as your massive tail sliced through the muck and submerged beneath the murky waters.

For a long while, you just swam through the bayou, the only sound being your own breath and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Eventually, when you surfaced against the endiscript bank, you caught sight of a blacked out SUV. You weren’t sure if it’d always been there, but an owl hybrid, grizzled and rough-looking, stepped from the cover of the nearby truck. His eyes locked onto you, recognition sparking.

“Boon?” the man asked, his voice low but urgent. “That you?”

You didn’t respond verbally at first, still catching your breath. Nobody called you by your name anymore, but it startled you how quick you responded to being referred to as Boon Ballou.

“Get in, man. ’Less you tryna get shot out here. You straight?” The barred owl grabbed you by the arm, still soaked, and pulled you toward the SUV. 

That seemed to pull You out of your stupor. “I’m fine,” You grunted, your voice rough, trying to mimic the deeper tones of Boon’s Southern drawl. “Just get me outta here.”

 "Two years talkin’ to nobody an’ ya still act like youse untouchable." the older man grumbled as he opened the back door to the SUV and ushered you inside. As you sat in the back of the vehicle in wet clothes and squelching boots, you watched the glimmering lights coming from the edge of the French Quarter. This city was now both your prison and your possible salvation.

As the car screeched to a halt outside a lavish estate, Your mind was spinning. The game had just changed. The owl hybrid that drove you here got out of the van and opened the car door for you to get out, both of you walking up the steps leading up to the front door.

Inside the house, amidst the luxury and wealth that seemed so far removed from the prison cell you’d left behind, you found yourself face-to-face with her. Wanda Maximoff.

Her eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you saw something in them — something that made your breath catch. The woman who had once been Boon’s lover, the woman who had been a part of Ballou’s past.

But now, she was standing in front of you, looking at you with the same intensity.

This is the woman that Boon Ballou left behind.

And in that moment, you realized something: You weren’t just impersonating the deceased croc. You were responsible for breathing new life into his name.

You were Boon Ballou now. And in this world, that might just be the most damning thing of all.

“You’re back,” she said softly, her brows furrowed in disbelief and voice trembling slightly.

You swallowed hard, your heart heavy. You were way beyond your depth. You don’t know how to run a fucking drug ring. Sure you studied for the test, but you didn’t know a damn thing when standing in front of people with no choice to interact. You couldn’t go back out. There were no takesies backsies. Not if you wanted to live. And when everything you’d worked for for over half a year, when your freedom depended on her and all the people around her believing that you were Boon Ballou? You have no choice but to step up to the plate.

So, you lied. You embraced her.

“Wanda,” your voice was rough with just a hint of unspoken guilt as your fingers brushed the deep red scales that fanned across the outside of her neck and her cheekbones as they gleamed even in the warm, dim light. You didn’t have to pretend to admire her. You’d run into a lot of snake hybrids in your own time, but you hadn’t met one that had so quickly held your attention like she did. That tempted you toward her gravity like she did.

“I’m back.”

No one knew Y/n, the orphan slated for lethal injection. They only knew the man that was their lover, their boss, their friend, and even their rival. Could you really fill those shoes when your foot was essentially forced into them? And more importantly—could you survive long enough to figure out your next move, or would the past of a dead man, and the lies that came with it, consume you until there was nothing left of you?

You were playing a game with stakes that were beyond deadly– and if Boon Ballou proved anything, he proved that no one gets to play forever.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Eight - Reunion Discoveries

Part Seven

———

Lightweight transportation craft of Cybertron were designed to hold the weight of well over twenty cybertronian’s. Sometimes more depending on the need for military uses, they ranged from the utilitarian to the down right plush. Typically had a few seats and hand rails where you could magnetize with ease, for the humans, they were reminiscent of subway cars.

There were the usual express lines that traveled from local cities to others, the direct lines which could take you to neighboring city states, and the free standing ones which did not travel along a select route and could be programmed with specific location. Typically those transports were reserved well in advance of use or for those selected by the Prime, as free to access for emergencies. 

A well functioning public transportation system was not only greatly appreciated by the populace, but a practical use of public funds. 

—

There was an awkwardness hanging in the air, the humans sitting together on one side of the transport with the cybertronians on the other. Sideswipe was lightly picking at the dried pink on his armor, frowning as it flecked off, across the transport Mirage winced. 

Hound shifted and sat up a bit once it got moving, he cleared his throat lightly and turned on his comm, looking to Prowl, “Our ship was around 93 miles away from the warehouse and we will need to have access to it over the coming days.” Sunstreaker snorted, “No kidding.” It took a moment for Prowl to answer, clearly trying to translate what was said, “We will send a crew out to salvage it. I understand why it would be important to you.” He slowly looked back to the strange pad he was holding, frown only deepening. Hound nodded slowly and turned to the others, motioning briefly to change their comms channel before speaking, “For now, we go along with them and find Jazz.” Sideswipe nodded lightly, holding a fleck of the pink gore in between his fingers, “You think you can ask them what this stuff is?” Hound sighed and shook his head, rolling his eyes behind the visor, “We’ll find out later, I’m sure.” “It’s toxic, whatever it is.” Sunstreaker spoke up, rubbing his hands together to get the worst of it off, the flecks falling to the floor.

”Toxic?” Leaning forward, Hound ran a brief scan on it and grabbed one of the flakes lightly, grinding it between his fingers, “Yeah, so don’t get it near your vents, even if we are still using the tanks, that is a risk not worth taking.” Nodding slowly, even Breakdown took a piece lightly and stared intently at it, “It’s congealed and dried, like blood.” Sunstreaker froze and made a noise that was painful on the ears, starting to rub at his arms quickly to get the rest of it off.

While Sunstreaker panicked, Hound sat back and glanced out the windows of the transport, staring with wide eyes at the surface of this strange planet. Now away from the haze and the damp ground, he could see effectively what they’d been walking through. A sea, a sea of rust at least in appearance. Glancing over to the other mechs in the shuttle, to Prowl and his companion, he watched them talk together. Their voices were quiet, but he was still calibrating his translator. The tech was experimental at best and had been limited to a handful of languages on Earth, but Hound had a lot of faith in Preceptor, the man was smart enough to make some of the most advanced mech tech in the world, what was a translator to a genius?

They were rocketing across the planet and after a few minutes, the blue and white mech stood, saying something to Prowl before going towards the entrance. With a nod, Prowl looks to them all, “Mirage is going to bail out above the battle, do any of you wish to join him?” Immediately, Sideswipe’s hand shot up, “Oh, me! I want to fall to the surface of this weird planet too.” Prowl stared in confusion before Hound stood, resting a hand on Sideswipe’s shoulder, “A long story, I’ll go with them though.” Nodding slowly, Prowl seemed deeply confused as the two shuffled towards the doorway.

Breakdown sighed deeply and stood, stretching lightly as Sunstreaker did the same, “Out of one fight and into the next.” Sunstreaker’s voice was almost enthusiastic, “Haven’t kicked alien butt since before they prepped my mech for space.” He hops up and down at the same time as Sideswipe, Mirage’s eyes sliding over them slowly, letting out a slow breath. 

The transport is rocked with an explosion and the doors open, pulling the pressure with it. Hound took a deep breath before leaping out after Mirage, Sideswipe falling backwards out of the transport, his sword expended from its spot in his arm plating as he fell. Hound brought his gun up, eyes widening as he saw the same bastards he’d spent the last several years fight on a moral familiar surface. Mirage hit one hard and effectively took it to the ground, using it to break his landing, seeing that Hound did the same and Sideswipe followed his lead.

It was easy to spot Jazz in the fight, though there were other mechs with visors on the field, he was the only one with numbers across his chest. Hound’s breath caught lightly in his throat even as the shot from his gun hit the so-called Quint just behind Jazz. Their eyes met, for a moment before Hound had an additional face on his visual feel, the bright smile was one he didn’t think he’d ever see again. Other than maybe on a skull, “You sure know how to make an entrance Hound,” He grinned as he turned and fired on the tentacled aliens, “I was just following that guys lead,” Jazz glanced over and laughed, “Oh, Mirage is a hoot. You’ll come to really love the guy.” “If you say so.” Hound continued firing.

—

In the distance, two large figures were fighting back to back, cleaving through the enemy with a certain amount of struggle. One of them, tall and grey, saw the red and green visored mechs fall from the sky and watched for a click as they each killed several Quintessons with limited hassle. His break caught, “Optimus, there truly are more like Jazz.” “What do you mean Megatron?” Optimus grunted with effort, throwing one off himself, before his face was forcefully turned towards Hound and Sideswipe, “Ah. That would explain Prowl’s message.” Megatron growled for a moment before blasting another encroacher. 

—

Breakdown and Sunstreaker landed with Prowl in the now disabled transport, less of a landing and more of a crash, they both bailed out with ease and took off onto the battlefield, Breakdown taking up position as his cannon hummed to life and Sunstreaker took off in the direction of Sideswipe. Several mechs were staring at them, mostly at the energon covered Sunstreaker, as he almost collided with his brother to cover his back. 

“Stay on comms people, stay focused.” Hound was calm, as he had been in every fight and would continue to be, “God, have you been like that this whole time?” Jazz’s voice was truly music to all their ears, bringing smiles and relief to their faces, “Welcome back, Commander. Ha! You’ve got more seniority than Hound!” Sideswipe slides past the pair, cleaving a Quintessons drone in half with ease. There was a moment of pause, Jazz clearly thinking before clearing his throat, “I’ll follow whatever Hound orders, he’s primary for, uh, whatever your mission is called.” “Thank you.” Hound shoots the head off a Quintessons nearest to Jazz with a light smile.

Most of the cybertronians that were there had fallen back to a more defensive position as the humans went after the Quintessons, not noticing the slight retreat of their counterparts. Even as their plating got torn and gouged, lines splitting open and getting concussed with covering fire. It was clear, they were more built for this fight than the average citizen of Cybertron. 

The twins were moving together in near synch, bracers moving through the air and Sideswipe’s sword coming through the enemy by its near perfect design. 

Breakdown was blowing up the land between the line and the enemy, blasting apart the drones with ease, his cannon locking onto the familiar enemy and eliminating it.

Hound was near Jazz, gun up and firing rapidly, focused on the scope of his visual feed and unable to speak.

Together they made a near perfect team, the twins were bickering across the comms and moving as if they’d always fought together, Hound was covering the angles they couldn’t see and Breakdown was covering them all. Maybe that’s why they’d been paired together, because they all were adaptable and capable. Jazz was just the missing piece of this puzzle as he was able to provide information from the other side of the field, listening into the cybertronian comms with five years of practiced ease. Hound glances towards his old friend, still not entirely convinced that this was all real. 

Prowl slid up near Jazz and Hound, flanked by Mirage towards the end of the fight, his servo resting lightly on Jazz’s back. They moved almost as one, even better paired than the twins in a way that shocked Hound. Jazz had been loved back home, there was no doubt about that but this, this was something else and unexpected. They clearly were speaking quietly to each other, still in a language that Hound couldn’t understand though the translator was still clicking away.

— 

When there was nothing left but broken armor, spilt energon, and gore from the Quintessons, Jazz took Hound’s elbow lightly, “Breath Hound, it’s over for now.” It was so different from back home, one or two of these things would attack entire cities, not a battle field of them. Hound at that moment wasn’t sure how long they’d been fighting for, whether it was the same day or even the same week, being in his suit and filled with adrenaline kept him in focus. Kept them all in focus. It was evident in the stance of the others as well, from potentially that morning leaving to Odyssey till now, who knew how long it had been and when you were in a suit you could stretch things a lot further than without it. 

With a nod, Hound takes a break and rests his hand on Jazz’s shoulder, “I still can’t believe it’s actually you.” Jazz’s smile was evident even without the visual feed, “It’s been a long five years. I hope you brought some good food from home.” Sunstreaker sighed dramatically, “If you think protein bars are good, then yes, he did.” Sideswipe, draped over his brother, snorted and covered his face. Hound rolled his eyes lightly, “There is more than that on the Odyssey.” “The Odyssey, like Apollo 13?” Breakdown was the next to speak up, “Ironic, yes?” They moved together, away from the main area that seemed to be a camp, only one following for the moment was Prowl. Silently listening to them talk, “You could say that, except they never stepped on the moon. You guys are standing on an entirely different planet.” “Don’t remind me.” Sunstreaker nearly whined, grabbing at the sides of his head to more laughter from his brother.

Jazz brought them over to some sort of heater, standing near it to keep warm after the fight, when their heart rates would slow and cool them off to an uncomfortable point, “You know you two, you’ll uh, want to hose off with some solvent. It makes some mechs uncomfortable to see others covered in dried blood.” Sunstreaker almost howled as Breakdown pointed at him, “I knew it! I said it.” Prowl gives Jazz a very long and hard look, at which Jazz just shrugs, “They’ll be a lot like me when I first got here Prowler.” 

Someone cleared their throat behind the six of them, Prowl stood stock straight and turned, if a mech could go pale that is what Hound would have described it as, suddenly there was a quiet click in Hound’s ear and the next words said in their strange language flowed through the transmitter and adjusted to fit the tones before spreading out into well understandable English, “Well Jazz, are you going to introduced us to your friends?” A big red and blue mech stood with another equally large grey bot, shoulder to shoulder, covered in soot and the same pink stuff Sunstreaker had been splattered with, “Uh, yes sir, well, these are other pilots from Earth.” His voice almost got timid, that’s when Hound knew that these were likely who was really in charge, especially considering how few other mechs were now around them.

Having been around a few other mechs in the battle have given Hound a bit of perspective, it made their suits feel huge, especially when they often felt small in Vortex’s, now First Aid’s, shadow. These mecha though, they were big just for the sake of being big. Hound didn’t have to stare too far up, but still his head was tilted back to meet this one’s eye line. He stood still for a long moment before standing at parade rest, clearing his throat, “Sir, uh. We apologize for the, uh, heh, invasion.” Hound paused as the translator quickly worked its magic. Thank god for Preceptor and his bizarre ideas. Jazz’s head whipped to him, as did the others, all staring at the strange translation that came from his external speakers. 

“Where in the hell did you learn that?” Sideswipe leaned forward slightly, whispering as if those around them wouldn’t be able to hear, “Turn on the translator Preceptor installed, I’ve been running it all day so it could learn.” Hound whispered back, but seemingly kept eye contact with the two large mechs. One shifted and crossed his arms before speaking, “What brought you all here? Your comrade, or something else?” Hound tilted his head ever so slightly and glanced at Jazz, who had slunk to almost hide behind Prowl, he looked back to the grey mech and shook his head, “It’s complicated.” “Then uncomplicated it.” He opened his mouth again but the blue and red mech rested his hand on the others shoulder, “Let’s give them time to reacquaint with Jazz, you forget that five solar cycles seems much longer for them then for us.” The other grunted before turning and walking towards a group of mechs, all ranging in shades of purple, blue, and green. The one left smiled with his eyes, if a mech could do that, “He means no harm, he’s just, curious is all. Go refuel, take a moment to rest, then we can discuss how you arrive here.” Nodding, Hound turned to the crew, and motioned for them to go back.

Jazz was the first to speak up, “Come on, we’ve got a place to sit and fuel over here.” He points and slowly, they make their way off the decimated battlefield. 

———

A/N

Wow, alright. I had an entirely different ending written for this part, but in all actuality that is now the ending of part nine I guess.

I was going to give myself 30 minutes to write today, and 2 and a half hours later I finished part eight. Of course, it never fails. 

At least I’ll have about half of part 9 done when I go to post this, so there is that. Also, I wrote this part from 8 till 10:30 at night so if there are major errors or any errors that you see, please let me know. 

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Diamond (Yang Jeongin) ‗ ❍

Pairing : Yang Jeongin x f reader

Summary : The newly 23 year old gets a special gift from his leader and roommate for his birthday.

Genre/ Warnings : skz are idols but it's not connected, reader is an escort and a bit older (2-3 years, not specified), there's some build up to it, smut (18+) MINORS DNI, virgin!Jeongin, masturbation (both receiving), fingering (f receiving), oral (both receiving), penetrative sex (protected), a tiny bit of food play, praise/guidance, loss of virginity (m), it's not going to be 100% smooth because it's his first time yk

Word count : 8.50 K

A/n : I just saw from my notes this was meant to be an 'early gift' for Innie..meaning it's literally here from january..my bro was NOT going to see the light. + VERY new addition about the dorms?? Jeongchan did it for the plot specifically yep

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The started with a Bang. Literally. As In Chan Bang literally jumping head first into Jeongin's bed.

"Heya there birthday boy!" He yelled as he ruffled the younger boy's ginger hair.

"Mmmh hyung-" he whined as he tried to slip back under the duvet to cover himself from Chan's attack.

"Is our baby ready for his big day? Twenty three already? Oh my gosh" the aussie kept talking, but had finally stopped his hands so Jeongin could breathe again.

"Yeah" he replied, still with sleep in his voice. Chan made a 'woah' noise.

"Even the baby's voice became so much deeper. Yah, I feel thrice as old now." Jeongin shook his head in humor.

"Well then, what time is it, old man? I would've gladly slept it off today" he sighed. Chan made a stank face at the words 'old man' and then checked his phone.

"Don't say that. It's Seungmin's line." He replied, "We still have about fourty minutes before the team comes pick us up. Wanna eat?"

Jeongin nodded with a yawn, as Chan jumped out of bed, fresh as a bird.

"I'm not gonna tell you now, just know that I prepared a surprise for tonight!" He sang-talked as he speed out of the youngest' room. Jeongin didn't even have the time to ask him what he had planned before he disappeared.

To be quite honest, he was so tired and underwhelmed at the idea of going practice that he barely cared.

-

The day went on almost like any other practice day. Dancing practice, some vocal lessons, lunch break. Everyone, from his members to other idols and staff, wished him a happy birthday. He politely smiled, bowed and thanked them all.

From the members tho he got extra hugs, pick ups, piggy backs, kisses and hair ruffling. He was truly the toy of the day. But he loved them nonetheless.

As the final schedule of the day, he actually had to do an hour long livestream, to spend some of his birthday with the fans, like tradition.

He actually enjoyed having a bit of relaxed fun, just eating some cake, reading a few comments and unboxing a couple of unserious presents that his manager selected for him.

After he said bye to the fans, it was around eight pm, and he knew that the members wanted to take him out for dinner and drinks. So he thanked the staff one last time, picked up his stuff and headed out with the group in two cars.

They drove to a nice place, nothing too fancy, it may have been his birthday but they were still supposed to be lowkey. And besides, everyone was kinda tired from practice. It was a typical Korean hotpot place, where they had a whole room booked for them, with a nice view of the Han river. It was raining and cold outside.

"I propose a toast for our maknae. Our baby, our fennec fox, our baby bread. Our amazing Jeongin, who grew up so well and worked so hard." Hyunjin raised a bottle of soju, and the others followed suit.

"Happy birthday our Yenah!" Changbin cheered, maybe a bit too loudly, which made Jisung slap his bicep and the others laugh as they joined in the cheering.

"Thank you, thank you." the ginger boy raised a hand to stop them, "Thank you for the meal, and for being the best coworkers I could've asked for. For being my brothers"

The whole table cooed and awed, some reaching out for a cheek pinch, some for a hug. He did truly feel so lucky.

-

When they finally decided to go home, it was about eleven pm. Not that late for a friend's night out, but they we're going clubbing. Half of them was barely standing up.

Jeongin was helping Jisung walk out to the car, hopefully not drawing too much attention on them. Then Jeongin went in the car with his roommate Chan of course, and two drunk idiots Felix and Seungmin behind.

Chan, who was completely sober, drove them safely to their apartment and made sure that they got in safe before coming back behind the wheel.

"Thank you again for the dinner and the bracelet, hyung" he bowed slightly, with a shy smile. The oldest nodded, with a small smile himself.

"It's nothing." He replied, "But you still remember what I said this morning right?"

Jeongin frowned for a second, rethinking it, and then answering.

"Wasn't the bracelet the surprise?" The genuine confusion in his voice amused Chan, which chuckled a bit.

"Nope."

"Oh" the brown haired man gazed at him quickly before going back to look at the road.

"I'm going to tell you. Promise not to overreact." Those words worried the younger man a bit, but at the end of the day, it was still Chan hyung he was talking to. Surely he wouldn't put him in some shit.

So he stayed silent and nodded. Slowly, he started to actually notice that he wasn't driving towards their apartment, but elsewhere.

"I booked a special night for you. With a woman." Jeongin's eyes went wide, but before he could open his mouth, Chan raised a single finger stopping him.

"It's a very safe and professional place. I know the girl in question, which is how I know you'll have a good time." He explained.

"But why? How do you know her?" The younger one asked. Chan shook his head slightly.

"It doesn't matter. Right now we are driving to luxury hotel, which offers this type of service, but it's very secretive. You can decide to do it or not, but I want you to know that you'll be safe." He kept going, "I did it because I feel like it could be a fun experience, and also because I'm quite tired to hear you get off in two seconds through the wall. Might as well put all that sex drive somewhere right?" He teased, making Jeongin choke on his own saliva, making him hide his flushed face in between his hands.

"I didn't know you could hear! I'm sorry!" He apologized, embarassed. Chan laughed.

"I mean it's normal! Walls are thin and all that. But you're a young man with needs, it's normal. I'm just saying, maybe this could give you a bit of confidence to explore this." He shrugged.

Just at that point he drove to the front of an enormous building, and told him to get off the car. He exited the vehicle too and a staff member was ready to greet them, then take Chan's car keys to actually park it.

Chan put an encouraging hand behind Jeongin's back, both of them still wearing the sporty caps to keep lowkey. They walked to the reception, and a young man greeted them.

"Good evening, yes. I have a reservation with this ID." Chan didn't say either of their names, he just showed a document on his phone to the guy.

He checked, took a quick look on the computer, then nodded.

"Yes, there is. I'll get your keys in a moment, sirs. Would you like some refreshments from the bar? It will be closed soon." He offered politely. Both of the young men shook their heads, and the receptionist bowed before going to get the keys.

He came back with two magnetic cards, and vaguely instructed them to take the elevator to the floor indicated on the card, then added a few formalities about the utilities of the hotel, before finally letting them go.

Chan and Jeongin walked towards the elevators, where two staff members were standing by each side. One of them, a professionally and meticulously styled woman, gave them a polite smile, pushing the buttons for them.

"Good evening sirs" she spoke, "May I see your cards, so I can give you directions at best of my abilities?"

Chan didn't speak and just handed over the two cards. She took them and looked at the golden one first, which was Chan's, and then at the silver one which was Jeongin's.

She quickly gave them a look, then put back on the polite smile, giving back the cards to them.

"Thank you, sirs. I will ride with you and drop you off at the correct floors." She bows slightly, exactly at the moment in which the elevator doors open next to her.

She opens her arms, directing them politely towards the entrance. The two men get on, and she does too, standing in front of them, commanding the buttons.

She pushes the tenth floor, but before the elevator does anything, a side light flashes for a second, and the woman presses her card to it. A small 'bip' signaled approval, and only then the elevator steadily sped upwards.

Jeongin in the meantime was getting more and more anxious. He literally thought anything but this. If he's being honest, yes he was horny. Yes, he wanted to try sex. But was he willing to do this to get it? Would it be that wrong, if he did? He's not forcing anyone at the end of the day. But what would his ego think about this?

Before his mind could go even more on a tangent, the elevator stopped and the doors opened again. This time it showed a long corridor, but it did have something different.

The spacing between the doors was huge but there were actually only five rooms. Each of them had a shape of a heart made in different materials. Expensive looking ones, and each one different. They looked like... expensive gemstones?

But what caught the eye first were definitely the two big beefy men standing right at the start of said corridor. Like guards. Which soon enough, Jeongin learned to actually be security.

"Good evening" the lady said to one of them. He gave her a small nod.

"Good evening." He replied professionally, "May I have your card?" He then spoke directly to Jeongin. He looked down at his silver card, then back up at the man. He gave it to him.

He pulled out a small phone from his elegant jacket's inner pocket, turned around and most probably checked the information. Then put it back inside, and gave the card back to Jeongin.

"You are verified. But I need the other gentleman to leave before I give further instructions, please." Chan nodded with a small smile, giving Jeongin a couple of reassuring pats on the back.

"See you tomorrow, bro. Should you need me for anything, I'm on room 2060, floor twelfth, alright?" He made sure the younger boy looked at him, "But I'm sure you'll be fine."

Then he got closer one last time, whispering 'have fun' with a hint of teasing in his tone. After that both him and the lady disappeared back into the elevator.

"You may go, sir. Your room is number five, the diamond. Just at the very bottom of the corridor." The security guard's voice startled him a bit when he turned around.

"When you get there you will have to ring a bell. When the light goes from red to green, the door will be opened. Enjoy your evening, sir."

Jeongin listened carefully as he was given back the card. Without really saying anything, he gave both men a quick nod and then slowly walked towards the diamond room.

The young man looked at every single room as he walked: from left to right, numbers one to four. Opal, Blue Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald and last but not least, Diamond.

Jeongin arrived in front of his assigned door, looking around for the bell they told him about. He wasn't seeing anything, until he understood that they didn't mean an actual bell, but a small white button. With sweaty hands he pressed it, and it became red.

After a minute the button turned green, and the door opened. As soon as he looked up, he found in front of himself a stunning woman. Girl. Definitely a bit older, maybe around his hyungs' ages.

She had some essential and very classy make up, her hair were loose on her shoulders perfectly styled, and she was wearing a silk, opaque silver, dress which fit her perfectly, the draping adorning her bosom and falling on her hips like a statue.

It wasn't just the package that was beautiful though, he knew it as soon as he managed to take a look at her face. She was truly beautiful, so elegant and feminine.

"Good evening. You are Fox, correct?" It took him a couple of seconds to let sink in what she had asked, her voice smooth like butter.

He slightly shook his head to get a grip, then just nodded. He didn't know why she was calling him 'fox' but he assumed that that's the nickname Chan picked to protect his identity.

She smiled politely, as she invited him in. He was so charmed by now that it seemed like his body was moving on his own. Maybe Chan was right, maybe he desperately needed to get laid if that's the reaction he had simply seeing a beautiful woman up close.

She closed the door behind him, pushing another button, which turned blue. Then after a few seconds, white again. Well Chan certainly wasn't kidding when he told him to not sorry about privacy or safety.

He took a moment to look at his surroundings: it was a medium sized room, not too wide. It had a large king sized bed in the center, perfectly made with cream and white bedding and pillows. By its right and left there were two small bedside tables, above them each had a very small lamp attached to the walls.

The ground had a perfectly clean and intact grey moquette. There was a small room on the right, which he assumed was a private bathroom, while on the left, lining with the bed, there was a huge window that had a beautiful scenery of the night city. They were partially covered with half pulled heavy cream colored curtains.

Then, on the left but at the opposite end of the room, near the entrance door, there was a small and essential open wardrobe, with a couple of empty hangers, some extra white towels, and a safe.

A safe on which the woman was putting a passcode. He assumed to take something out, but it turns out that whatever she had to take, was already on the small round table at his left. Right near the big window.

On the small transparent table there were some papers, a small bottle of champagne and a bottle of water in an ice bucket, two empty glasses, and a single big triangle shaped piece of cake. It looked like strawberry and cream. Two small forks on the side of the dish.

"Welcome, nice to meet you, Fox." She stood in front of him, a few feet away. She had perfect posture, he noticed.

"Thank You" he managed to croak out, then clearing his voice a bit, "What's your name?"

She smiled politely, but with a hint of humor.

"My name is Diamond." he scoffed a bit, with the faintest laugh. He was so nervous he felt lightheaded.

"I'm sure" her small smile didn't disappear, instead, she just tilted her head for the side.

"Well, that's the best I can offer you tonight", she paused, "Fox." He immediately picked up on the irony in her voice, which made him shake his head a bit.

"I didn't pick it. I actually didn't even chose to come here." his voice held confusion, like he truly couldn't believe where he actually was and for what reason.

Her expression softened, leaving behind the humor. She took a couple steps forward. She watched the boy's reaction carefully, but he didn't flinch. That's good.

"I know. That's how I'm going to Introduce the contract, so then after you can decide what you wanna do." she started, reaching her arm out to pick up the papers. There were three-four pages at maximum.

"I'm going to give you the essential summary, but if you want to read it by yourself you can." The woman looked at each page, explaining to Jeongin the contents.

"On the first page is essentially a copy of the info we were sent beforehand when the reservation was made. So your 'name'" she air quoted the word, "Your ID code, a personal emergency number, and the technical details about the reservation. A part of them is hidden specifically by request of the payer, which was not you." She continued.

"And here you have to put the first signature to confirm these info. On page two it's just some rules, like if you break you pay, you are mutually required to respect my privacy as I do yours, you take responsibility of any intentional harm done to me and vice versa, then consent for intimacy, and there's an empty line of you have to add any boundaries that I have to keep in mind. The another signature." She explained, pretty bored.

"Then there's page three which is basically a bunch of copy paste privacy, security and legal terms in case something happens. Page four Is just the last bit of page three, and at the bottom there's finally the last signature." She paused, "If you agree and sign all the papers, then I can co-sign them too and put them in the safe so that they will be archived correctly. Got it?"

Jeongin sighed, slumping his shoulders a bit.

"That sounds like a lot"

"It really isn't, if you really think about it. Unless you have any intention of causing harm or disruption. Which I don't think you do, am I correct?" She smirked a little. The young man shook his head with conviction.

"Alright then, I'll leave you a moment to take care of it." She nudged her head towards the papers and pen. Jeongin walked up and took a quick read, mainly the highlighted stuff, then was about to sign, but hesitated.

He kept his head down, a bit embarassed, as he spoke.

"After I sign this...can I-, I mean, can I still change my mind?" The woman was a little surprised to see him so hesitant. She tried to put even more sincerity in her response.

"Yes, of course. You can change your mind before and during. I'd say after, but well, once it's done, it's done." She chuckled. Surprisingly, he smiled too.

"Yeah" he agreed, finally signing the papers one by one. He then gathered them, passing them in Diamond's hands. She smiled, bowed a bit and thanked him, before putting the documents back in the safe.

"Alright!" She exclaimed with a smile, "I couldn't offer it unless we settled that stuff first, but, would you like something to drink? As you can see we have plain water or, for the occasion, some Champagne."

The ginger haired boy waved his hand to refuse.

"Not for now, thank you. I had dinner not too long ago." She nodded, suddenly lighting up.

"Ah, yes, happy birthday by the way" she winked. Jeongin bowed his head as a thank you, visibly more relaxed. Still not a hundred percent, but he doesn't want to necessarily combust anymore.

"Thanks. You were told this prior? How does it work?" He asked curiously.

"Let's get comfortable first, alright? Take off your shoes, jacket. Whatever you feel like. Also, I'm sure you saw it, but there's a bathroom if you need to freshen up." She invited as she gently helped the young man take off his puffer jacket.

"Yes, I was told that it was going to be a birthday gift. That, plus your nickname and the fact that you didn't have much experience. Everything was optional except if you were intimate before. It's a yes or no question, to give a hint more than anything." She explained, as Jeongin got comfortable.

He did as she suggested, being left with just his jeans, underwear, a tank top and a lightweight hoodie on top. He sat on the bed, leaning back a bit to relax.

He nodded, understanding. He didn't really know what to say, but he was starting to feel at ease, so the woman took the initiative. She went to get the small plate with the birthday cake on it, then sat beside him on the bed.

"I don't know about you, but this cake does smell delicious. Does the birthday boy want a bite?" She smiled, looking at him with a flirty look. He blushed slightly, nodding.

"You can tell me a bit about your past experiences, if you have any. What you'd like to do, basically anything." She cut a piece of cake with the dessert fork, guiding it to his lips, which he gently opened.

"I did very little...making out, some touches and humping above the clothes." He shrugged as he chewed. His eyes lit up at how good it it was, and it was so obvious that it made the woman chuckle.

"I see. Do you have a girlfriend?" She gave him another bite. He frowned and shook his head vigorously at the question.

"Cha-" he stops himself before saying his friend's full name, " My friend wouldn't have set this up if I had. I wouldn't have accepted either." He explained. She nodded in agreement, satisfied.

"Good. I hate cheaters." The boy couldn't help but give her an unintentional look. She noticed and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, look, I think you noticed this place has certain standards. I speak for myself here, I don't go with busy men. If they are and they don't lie about it, I turn them down. I pick who to..." She paused for a second, trying to find the right word, "- work with."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to seem rude." The ginger haired boy apologized, taking another small bite of cake. Half of it was gone already.

"No, I get it. It's okay. You don't look mean, anyway." She gave him a lopsided smile, "Didn't find the right person yet?"

"I guess? I'm very...busy. it's a bit complicated. I'm not really sure why it didn't happen yet. I had crushes but that's it. Not now though, I don't like anyone." He shrugged. He didn't feel uncomfortable talking to her, but he was careful about oversharing. He didn't even fully know if she recognized him or not.

"It's normal. You're young, and if you're here, you're probably in a special situation." She raised an eyebrow, not elaborating further but hinting at the fact that if he didn't have a shit ton of money and need for privacy, maybe he'd be in a random alley and not an extremely expensive luxury hotel.

"In any case, I hope you'll find someone soon. I'm sure you're not gonna have issues, you're really handsome." Her compliment made Jeongin blush, squinting his eyes shut for a second.

"Thank you" he responded timidly. She struggled to contain a smile. He was so cute.

"Well, in any case, tonight you're free to enjoy yourself however you want." She looked at him through her lashes, which sent a shiver down his spine. And maybe somewhere else.

Jeongin cleared his throat a bit, nodding absentmindedly.

"You didn't eat any?" He asks, suddenly realizing she's been feeding him the whole time without taking a single bite.

She tilted her head to the side slightly, shaking her head.

"Nope. But this big strawberry looks really delicious, if you want we can share it." She smiled, seemingly innocently. The boy nodded eagerly, so concentrated on wanting to share his cake that his mind didn't go where hers went.

"Alright, open up" he parted his lips, waiting for her to once again feed him the food.

And so she did, but this time she picked up the whole strawberry with two fingers, barely grazing his lips and chin with the tips as he held the fruit with his front teeth.

Suddenly, he started to catch up. His own fingers gripped the soft sheets slightly, eagerly waiting for her next move.

"I'm going to take a bite..." She stated, lowly, almost whispering, as she slowly leaned forward. Her eyes were looking at his lips, while his were looking at hers.

Then, she parted her mouth enough to bite in half the fruit, at the same time delicately touching Jeongin's pink lips. The movement was extremely delicate, and not too fast, but for him it was. He was already craving for more touch, almost in a daze.

Diamond leaned back nonchalantly, chewing the bite, but her gaze never left Jeongin's dark eyes. After a couple of seconds, she swallowed, licking her lips instinctively.

"Mhm. So delicious." The nonchalant tone mixed with the obvious intent was probably what made the boy lose his mind. So much so, that he reached out his pointer finger, picking up some whipped cream from the plate, then slowly raising it up.

"The cream is sweet too" his voice was deeper now as well. The older girl smirked a bit, parting her lips slightly.

Jeongin took it as permission, so he brought his finger to her full lips, which she wrapped around up to the first knuckle. Very delicately sucking, then licking the cream, cleaning the younger's finger.

She hummed in appreciation, letting his finger go. She decided to step it a bit further, noticing the young man was starting to get excited.

"It is indeed" she scooted closer on the bed, raising her hand and slowly sliding it up from his, still clothed, bicep to his shoulder.

"You have some on your face" she commented. Which was actually true, but it was a very tiny dot near his bottom lip. Which was more than enough.

"Can I clean it up?" The guy, which at this point was barely even blinking, nodded, gulping.

"Yes, please"

She didn't wait any longer, cupping his right cheek and getting closer to his face, then slowing down just enough to get out the tip of her tongue, picking up the tiny spot of whipped cream.

As soon as Jeongin felt her wet tongue graze his lips, he parted his own, effectively starting a proper kiss.

One of his hands cupped her cheek, while the other landed on her hip, grabbing the silk dress slightly.

At that point the make out continued, including tongue, soft lip pulling and biting, until he instinctively pulled her closer, hinting at the fact that he wanted her to straddle him.

She got it right away and complied, straddling his sitting figure, but not quite getting comfortable on him right away. Instead, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hips started to rock back and forth sensually, giving Jeongin's growing crotch enough contact to turn him on but not enough to actually hump his jeans.

The young man started to pant in between kisses, fully aware of the newly added sensation, and enjoying every second of it. His hands both grabbed at her hips a bit more forcefully, following her movements, while his mouth started to travel back and forth between her neck, jaw, collarbone area, then slowly more and more down, almost on her breasts.

She sighed pleasurably, giving him a kiss on the head before gently stopping him. Jeongin, with his ginger hair already a bit messy, his cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, looked up at her with some confusion.

"Let's get you more comfortable, baby" her voice a bit hoarse from the excitement. He nodded absentmindedly as he raised both arms up, allowing the girl to slide off his hoodie.

"Can I get this off too?" She asked gently, referring to the tank top. He nodded again, clearing his throat, waking up a bit from his daze and deciding to help her.

He ended up taking the tank top off himself, while she unbuttoned his heavy baggy jeans, getting off of his lap to take them off.

She left them to the side, and before she knew it, he was also sliding her spaghetti straps off her shoulders, immediately making the silk dress pool at her feet.

His hands rested on her waist as he took in her body, still barely covered by a lace set of white lingerie. His eyes lingered on her legs, thighs, chest

He was brought back to reality when the girl's hand rested on his cheek again. He looked up, blinking a few times.

"You're beautiful" he complimented her, in awe. She smiled a bit, gently pushing him back more to the top of the bed.

"You look great too" she crawled back up on the bed, stopping to his side.

"What would you like to do?" she asked, caressing his hip and lower belly, making both his cock and stomach twitch slightly.

"I..." he looked to the side, getting too shy to speak his wish out loud. The girl nodded in understanding, with a smirk.

"When you're ready just tell me what you want to do, okay? In the meantime, trust me" he swallowed, trying to get his throat a bit wet, nodding.

The girl gently grabbed his boxers, sliding them down his toned legs and throwing them on top of his pants. His cock sprung free, fully hard, slightly hovering above his lower belly.

She scooted further on the bed so she could lower a bit more near his crotch.

Deciding to have mercy on the boy, she let some spit pool in her right palm, then taking Jeongin's cock, stroking him up and down, not too fast.

As soon as she touched him his whole body spasmed involuntarily, and he moaned. At the first lick along the side of his shaft, she noticed him squinting his eyes shut, breathing out deeply.

"Don't hold back" she said, capturing his attention immediately, "You're not hiding in your room. I promise your partner will enjoy hearing you very much"

The poor guy didn't even have a chance to reply, because she got immediately back to work, taking his cock on her mouth. She went down a bit more every time, from the tip, then to more than halfway.

His cock was pretty pale, like the rest of his skin, with a couple of not too prominent veins blending in, it was medium in thickness, but oh my gosh was it longer than average. Not a whole monster, but definitely a bit above average.

"Fuck" he groaned, still struggling to fully let himself go, biting his bottom lip and frowning. The girl noticed his left hand firmly gripping the sheets, while the other one seemed to kind of twitch and be restless.

"You can touch me" she half moaned, taking a small break from the mouth work. He looked down at her, frowning.

"W-what?" He panted. The girl reached out, taking his nearest hand and bringing it to her head.

"You can touch. You can do whatever you want as long as you're gentle. If you want to get rougher, ask consent" she explained, her hand still stroking him.

Jeongin was having a bit of a hard time focusing on two things at once, listening to her and not cumming embarrassingly fast, but he did understand what she meant.

She was trying to encourage him to let himself go, but it just wouldn't come natural to him, even though he was definitely enjoying himself. It was true.

He was used to shut himself up and be as quiet as possible getting off, since he didn't live alone. And even when he was alone, he'd still find himself double checking that the door was locked before getting down to business.

"I want to eat you out" he blurted out, surprising the older girl who kind of stopped her movements to check in what he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah" he nodded, propping himself up with his elbows.

"Don't you want to come first?" She double checked. He shook his head.

"Not right away. Please?" The girl chuckled, gently releasing his, still hard and leaking, cock.

"You decide. How do you want me?" Between the sultry teasing tone and the way she leaned back, essentially offering herself, Jeongin thought he could've came right then and there without being touched.

He moved, getting on his knees on the bed, and reaching out to pick on the bra straps.

"I need to see you so bad" he whispered. The girl nodded, unclasping the bra from behind her back and then throwing it on the growing pile of clothes on the ground.

The boy unintentionally released a deep sigh, which made the girl smile, but she made sure to not laugh at him. Instead, she brought his big but slender hands to her breasts, which he cupped instantly.

Then she decided to give him some more time, occupying her hands and mouth by caressing him and leaving kisses on his neck and chest, a few on his mouth.

The boy was groping her breasts, toying with her hard nipples with his fingers in the meantime.

"On your back" he managed to choke out, his chest going up and down from laboured breathing.

"Mmh, alright pretty boy" she said in between kisses, which made Jeongin breathe out a small chuckle.

The girl moved, getting on her back with her head on the pillow, as he asked. She bent her knees, spreading her legs as he positioned himself in between them.

He then realized he was too high up, shifting back and on his belly, right in front of her crotch.

"Can I?" He asked, picking at the sides of her lace panties. She smirked, nodding.

Jeongin slid the panties off, setting them to the side, not being able to get his eyes away from her glistening pussy. He felt like a feral animal, cock painfully hard and twitching against the bed, but at the same time, he froze.

The girl propped herself up with her elbows, looking down between her legs at the younger boy.

"What's wrong?"

He hesitated, looking down to the side, realizing he was staring, and also from embrassement.

"How..h-how do I.." he stuttered. The girl blinked a couple of times.

"Don't tell you've never watched porn?" There was no judgement in her voice, just genuine questioning. He half nodded and half shook his head, confusing himself at this point.

"Yes of course I do.. I'm not a saint, okay? I just- I don't really know how to start I guess" he admitted. She let out a small breathy laugh, reaching out her hand to cup his cheek.

"Ah I see. Don't worry, alright? Let's go slow" she reassured him, which actually did work.

"You can start by building up to it. Kiss around the pubic area, the thighs, legs, belly, whatever. Then you can use your hands, both to caress and touch directly on it." She explained gently.

"Don't be rough. Like don't just start inserting fingers out of nowhere or rub it like some sort of dough, okay?" He laughed a bit at the examples, but nodded, both in agreement and to build up some courage.

"The main goal here is to get the vagina wet so when you touch it it doesn't hurt. Just like I did with you before. Don't worry about the rest, I'm going to tell you as you go" she added, and Jeongin nodded again, starting to put his hands to work by caressing her legs and thighs.

"Okay, good boy" she said nonchalantly, as if she said 'hello', but they way his ears got red and his cock jumped quite literally said the opposite.

Regardless, he tried to remain focused, and started to pepper the girl's lower body with wet kisses and licks. She brought a hand up to her breast, starting to play with herself as she moaned softly.

Jeongin's ego boosted at that, as he tried to remember a few of the couple porn he watched. He decided to slowly start licking directly on her pussy, which actually made her gasp out of surprise.

His gaze shoot up, to check if he was okay to continue, and by the way she had her eyes closed and mouth parted, he took it as a yes.

The boy delighted in her taste, so new but so intoxicating at the same time. He used his tongue flat, up and down, slowly from her clit to her entrance, which was becoming wetter by the second.

As a sweet background there were the older girl's sighs and moans. Yeah, he thought, she definitely had a point when she said that his partner would be enjoying the noises. He sure as fuck was.

That's what actually gave him the confidence to start touching her with his fingers. He started to gently rub his finger and middle fingers around her pussy, getting them wet as he kept sucking and licking her. She moaned a bit louder, suddenly opening her eyes and looking down.

"Here" she breathed, reaching out her own hand and placing his fingers on her clit, guiding the circling motion until he did it by himself. Her back arched slightly, as her fingers intertwined with his reddish hair.

"Yes, just like that" she sighed, "Touch yourself, baby"

He shook his head slightly, unintentionally, actually causing her to choke out a moan and make her grip on his hair tighter. She looked down.

"Why not?"

"Don't wanna come now" he mumbled in between licks. He was enjoying himself a bit too much, like a kid with a pacifier or a desert. Hilarious how in the span of two hours he became a pussy addict.

"Yes, come now. Trust me. There's- ah," she arched her back interrupting herself with a gasp of pleasure, "There's time. Listen to me."

He looked up at her, keeping his hands attached to her pussy. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glossy and an almost invisible layer of sweat covered her forehead.

After that masterpiece of a view, cumming was not going to be hard for Jeongin, which slid his free hand under his body, reaching his cock and stroking it fast.

"Yeah, just like that, good" she moaned, "Fuck- oh, yes, keep touching my clit a bit faster, you're doing amazing" her voice a bit high, just like the high she was about to reach.

"You gonna cum?" He slurred as he upped both his fingers and tongue's pace. The dirty talk must've had an effect on her too, because she released a loud moan, arching her back and pushing Jeongin's face even further to her pussy.

"Fuck- fuck- yes" She cried out. At that exact moment Jeongin felt some wetness hit his chin, so he knew she came. He just made a woman come for the first time in his life. Damn.

Which, surprise to none, made him cum in return. The boy stiffened up a bit, groaning into the woman's pussy which made her squeal and jump back a bit, as she was too sensitive now.

Jeongin gave the last few, harsh, strokes to his cock, to ride his own high. He was taking deep breaths, trying to ground himself, but for some reason he struggled to keep his eyes open.

He forgot about Diamond for a second, until she sat up near him, her hands on his face, and a gentle expression on her face.

"Hey, pretty boy, are you alright?" She asked softly. His eyes blinked in a messy way, almost like he was passing out. He used one of her palms as a pillow and then closed his eyes completely.

-

Jeongin woke up on the bed, a pillow under his head and a heavy duvet covering him. He was exactly where he last remembers, on the left bottom side of the bed.

Did he actually fell asleep after having an orgasm? Oh God..what a fucking loser. But wait, where was-

And before he could ask himself the question, he saw her standing in front of the window, an equally heavy duvet around her shoulders, as she sipped some water.

"Hey, what happened?" as soon as she heard Jeongin's voice, the girl turned her head. She offered him a sweet smile.

"You passed out for some time. Not long, about twenty minutes. Did you have a long day today?" She asked sweetly as she walked back to the bed, sitting next to him.

"Yeah, actually" he woke up early, had practice, did the live, then went out again. And then he ended up here. And he came so fucking hard, too. How to forget. Actually-

"I'm sorry that I kinda fucked up at the end, I was out of if" he apologized. The girl shook her head, gently getting a few strands of hair out of his face.

"You didn't ruin anything. You made me cum. Making a woman cum on your first time is pretty impressive, you know." She nudged his shoulder with hers. He smiled shyly.

"You still sleepy?" He shook his head.

"I don't think so. I didn't need to sleep, I was probably letting some stress go." She nodded.

"I'm glad you did." She paused, "What do you want to do now?"

He thought about it for a second, leaning his head on her shoulder.

"I definitely want to finish what we started. You down?" She chuckled softly, leaning her own head on his.

"Sure" they looked at each other for a while, until he kissed her. More softly than before, as they needed to start building up again.

This time around Jeongin felt more confident in his actions, so he took another initiative. He slid the duvet down her shoulder, and she let her grip on it go too, so it fell on the ground and she was naked again.

At the same time he freed himself from his own, joining her in her nakedness. They started to properly get back on the bed, kissing, toying with their tongues, and making out. This time Jeongin guided her directly to lay on her back, head against the pillow.

He didn't immediately get in between her legs, instead he took his time licking, sucking and grazing her soft breasts with his teeth. She sighed softly, both hands in his hair as she enjoyed the attention.

Jeongin's cock, which was slowly getting hard again, was rubbing on the outside of her thigh. She took the hint and licked her palm before starting to stroke his shaft, sometimes grazing his tip with her thumb, which made him shiver every time.

Almost at the same time, Jeongin reached his own hand in between her legs, starting to circle her clit like she had taught him before. The girl whined, opening her legs to allow him more access.

They went on like that for a while, until he was fully hard and she was dripping wet.

"Put one, the two fingers inside" she whispered to his ear, "Get me ready for you" her teeth grazed his lobe, which made his cock twitch in her hand. She smiled at the reaction, continuing to lick and kiss his shoulders and collarbones.

It was so intimate, so arousing, that they didn't feel the need to rush anything. It was dazing.

The girl gasped softly when Jeongin put the first finger inside, pumping it in and out slowly, sometimes twisting it, touching around her insides to try and find her g spot. And at a squeeze of his cock in her hand, he knew he found it. He choked on a moan himself, laughing a bit.

"Alright, I think we're ready" he said with a hint of humor. She chuckled, nodding.

"Let me just-" she gently released his erect cock and stretched to get to the bedside table's small drawer, where she fished out a small bottle of lube and two condoms.

"Do you know how to put it on or do you want me to help?" She asked kindly.

"I'd prefer some help, please. I don't want to fuck up." He admitted. She nodded and asked him to sit back on his feet. She kneeled in front of him, opening the package with her fingers, pulling it out.

"Alright, hold yourself up for me" he took his cock in one hand, as she asked. Then she placed the condom on the tip, carefully sliding it down his shaft.

"Now I'm going to get ready on my back. I am wet enough now, but just as a demonstration, I'm gonna put a few drops of water based lube on me so everything can go smoothly." She explained as she positioned herself, squirting a few drops of lube on her fingers and then spreading it around a bit.

Jeongin was watching everything, to learn. And also because her pussy aroused him, and couldn't wait to get inside her, okay? Oh God, he prayed he would last more than two seconds.

"C'mere" she invited him between her legs. The young man positioned himself, lining his length with her wet hole. Then quickly looked back to her.

"You can go. Gently, remember." She smiled sweetly at him, and he reciprocated. Then his focus shifted back down, he grabbed himself and slowly entered her.

They both sighed, and she reached out to take his hand, intertwining it with hers. Jeongin bottomed out and stood still for a minute, squinting his eyes and trying not to cum right away.

Condom or no condom, pussy feels amazing. The texture, the slickness, the warmth. He needed to calm down.

"Start moving slowly, baby" she encouraged, "Back and forth, don't completely pull out or get all the way in. Okay?" He nodded, his head hunched down to look at where their bodies connected.

He started to move as he was told, and it felt good, but he knew that if he went faster, it would feel even better. That's why she told him to start slow.

He huffed, as his hips rocked back and forth, his abs contracted. Jeongin started to play around a bit. Firstly by pulling out almost completely and then slamming back all the way in, feeling her cervix.

She moaned, then gasped and tightened her legs around his body.

Then he reprised his old movement, but with a faster pace. She suddenly loosened their fingers and placed his palm flat on her lower belly, just above the pubic bone.

"Add some pressure here" her breathy voice turning him on. He actually felt like he was coming closer to his orgasm, so he wanted to do everything he could do bring her with him.

He did as he was told, and in addition sped up a bit, reaching a slightly deeper point inside her.

"Touch yourself" this time it was his turn to say it to her. Her dazed expression seemed positively surprised, so, smirking, she brought her fingers to her clit.

Not too much later both started to pant and whine in a messy manner, getting closer to their high.

"I- I'm close ho- how, mmh fuck, how about you?" Jeongin struggled to talk coherently.

"Y-yes, keep going, baby, let go" she encouraged him, and with that and a few harsher thrusts he came inside her. Safely thanks to the condom.

He kept going, gradually slower so he could ride out his orgasm and he could still try to get her to get hers.

He bowed down, attaching his lips to her nipples to add even more stimulation, and that's what got her.

The older girl gasped, then moaned and kept touching herself slowly to properly ride out her orgasm. After a while though she pushed Jeongin's abs because it had gotten sensitive. He got the hint and leaned back on the bed, sliding outside of her.

They both stood still, breathing heavily, for a couple of minutes. The first to move was Diamond, which simply got off the bed, reaching out to safely take off the condom and throw it away.

Then she went into the bathroom, coming out already wearing a bathrobe, and bringing one for him as well.

"Thank you" he said, even more tired than before. But also hungry.

"I don't know if I want to sleep or eat more" he joked. She gave him a half smile.

"Whichever it will be, it can't be here" she broke the news to him as gently as possible.

Jeongin was taken aback for a second, until he remembered the situation he was actually in. She was paid to do this, not to sleep and cuddle. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he understood.

"Of course" he stood up from the bed, wrapped around in his bathrobe.

"Should I redress myself-" he started, but she interrupted him.

"No, no. There is another private room booked for you, to rest and freshen up. It's written on the card. You can relax, take a bath and order some food. Even at three am." She smiled a bit, "Don't worry about the clothes. I will personally make sure that they're delivered fresh to your doorstep tomorrow morning."

Jeongin nodded, not really looking at her. He felt so stupid and childish for feeling like this but he kinda couldn't help it.

He spent some intimate time with someone and now he had to leave them, pretty normal no?

If anything now he fully understands the emotional package that comes with exposing yourself with someone else. It will serve him in the future, he knows it.

He walked towards the door, with on his bathrobe and hotel slippers, and his silver card. His room was on the same floor as Chan.

"Well, again happy birthday. I hope the experience was nice. I had a nice time too, so thank you." She smiled politely. He nodded, trying to get a grip and not look like a kicked puppy.

"Yes, yes, absolutely. Thank you for having patience with me." He wanted to fucking bad to end it there, he was screaming in his head 'shut the fuck up Jeongin', and instead he added "Maybe I could come back sometime."

The girl's gaze softened, a hint of pity in her eyes. She reached out a hand and cupped his cheek.

"I hope not, Foxie. I hope that as soon as you walk out of here you find a beautiful, sweet girl that will give you this out of love, like you deserve." Her smile was comforting. He nodded, feeling a bit like a kid.

"But..." He looked up again at the word, "If between a busy day and the other you still don't find someone else, and you need to let off some steam..then why not." She winked. He smiled, bowed his head to her in respect and then wished her goodnight as he exited the room.

As soon as she closed the door behind him, she relaxed her face, and huffed, pretty tired after the whole ordeal. She started a warm bath, and picked up her phone from the safe to bring it with her.

- to : Xs <3

3.24 am - Your little one has just gone up

The answer came back almost immediately.

- from : Xs <3

3.25 am - he just texted me lol

3.25 am - you definitely left an impression

3.26 am - not that I had any doubts ~

3.26 am - wyd

She smirked, writing back

- to : Xs <3

3.27 am - Was just about to relax in the tub then sleep

3.28 am - Wanna join? ~

Before she could even put down the phone, it ding'ed back.

- from : Xs <3

3.28 am - Omw down ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

N/A: Xs = Chris

Oop.. Little plot twist? Anyway, this was a long one hope you enjoyed!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

See, I think Charles’ annoyance and frustration with the Cat King really was just pure protectiveness and not any kind of jealousy - it’s understandable, because Edwin is not telling him what happened even though something clearly did, which is not typical for them. Edwin doesn’t usually hide things like this! Of course he’s worried!

Charles’ reaction to Monty, on the other hand, is difficult to explain in a way that isn’t jealousy. You could say he’s being protective again, but Charles shows no sign of distrust in Monty, and had no idea of who Monty was or that he might betray them - he was actually very chill with him, except in a select few specific scenes. You could say he just doesn’t like him because he got brushed off during their first meeting, but not only does that not seem like Charles at all, it also doesn’t make sense, since, again, in most instances, Charles is genuinely friendly and is happy when Monty compliments him and seems to have come around to liking him (it completely flies over his head that this is a petty jab at Edwin on Monty’s part but oh well hahaha). You could say it changes up their status quo a bit and that bothers Charles. I do think this bothers him a bit, but I think, unlike Edwin, Charles’ fear and frustration here is directed more at situations (the Cat King whisking him away for several hours, as an example) than others. He’s sociable and likes being able to talk to new people. There’s absolutely no way he’d begrudge Edwin doing the same - and he doesn’t… with Niko. Edwin and Niko hit it off and become very close and that never bothers Charles at all. He’s incredibly endeared to her, just like the rest, and for the most part, he’s chill with Monty too, and smiles pretty knowingly when Edwin confesses to him having awakened some feelings. The only exceptions, where he shows definite annoyance, are when Monty first shows up and gets really in Edwin’s personal space to show him the astrology chart he made, and when Edwin is so sucked into the book Monty gave him that he doesn’t hear that Charles is talking to him, to which he annoyedly says that they seem to have been “spending a lot of time together”.

You could say he’s unused to having anyone get in Edwin’s personal space like that, but, again, Niko. She’s very tactile with him and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much; they spend time together watching things. If it was just someone getting close with Edwin in general, not only would that be weirdly possessive for the character, but it would also mean he would show discomfort with anyone getting close, I think. Does Charles see Monty as more of a potential threat than Niko, seeing as he knows her and her personality and doesn’t know Monty? Well, maybe, but again, Charles shows no sign of distrusting Monty at all.

Monty is a boy. Okay. So something about seeing Edwin so close to a boy that is not him, getting lost in thought over something this boy gave him, really rubs Charles the wrong way. Charles appears to catch on just as quickly as anyone else that there is something (or it looks like something) between Edwin and Monty. He is not surprised when Edwin comes out to him in episode 6, and in fact, seems to have just been waiting for him to verbalize it. He smiles and is not bothered at all by Edwin showing (what he thinks is) a romantic interest in Monty - he just doesn’t like it when Monty clearly shows a romantic interest in Edwin. Um. Well. Well.

Charles is jealous. I really don’t know what else to say.

Look, when I first watched this show, I actually didn’t want them to end up together romantically - I love the idea of one having fallen in love with another who does not reciprocate and the two of them still loving each other just as much. That Edwin’s confession made them closer instead of making things awkward is such a beautiful outcome to this build up and I absolutely love it. However. On my two rewatches, I caught a lot more little details, and I think it would be very strange if the show did not follow up on this. That, plus the deliberate quality of these “jealousy” moments where the camera focuses on him, Charles’ Orpheus coding throughout the show, the fact that Edwin’s arc was far more about realizing his feelings for Charles specifically than just coming to terms with his sexuality, and that even the actors admit that Charles’ response to the confession kind of left things open, it really seems to me like the path leads to a romantic endgame for them, or at the very least, that this possibility will be explored in more depth.

**This is just my reading of it. Please do not use this post as a gotcha for anyone who loves them as a platonic duo or people who really love Crystal and Charles together (because let’s face it, they’re super cute too). I’m just doing my rambles. As per usual.