#thinking ‘’how many other things have they put in my head?! has Jean fucked with my head to?! Emma?!

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Actually crazy that Scott “telepaths number one favorite guy to traumatize” Summers’ main two love interests are some of the most powerful telepaths in the fucking world

[sttm99]

Part 2 here!

'Fuck.'

It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.

He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.

You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.

And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.

Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.

"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.

Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."

You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.

"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."

You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."

You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.

"So why didn't you?"

You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....

"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"

"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.

You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."

There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.

"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."

You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"

Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"

You began sitting up. "Don't I?"

"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."

"Yeah because he's always texting me."

"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.

You paused, sitting up and pondering it.

Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"

You scowled at him.

"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."

You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."

"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."

You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."

"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.

"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.

Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.

"I can give you pointers if you want."

Silence.

"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.

He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."

You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."

"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."

He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.

"Wanna find out?"

And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.

"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."

His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.

His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.

It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.

-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.

"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.

"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-

"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"

His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.

It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.

He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.

He brought his head forward to peek over at you.

"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"

You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.

He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.

It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.

Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.

It's stupid. He knows it is.

You don't even like him that way.

Part 2 has been posted here!

[yawnderu]

Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader

work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.

Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.

I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.

He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.

This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.

Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.

Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.

John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.

Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.

And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.

Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.

Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.

Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.

Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

[nonotnolan]

Rush Week

You develop a special sort of bond with a guy when you've swapped bodies and you're touching each other's dick. It's the justification that Sigma Epsilon Chi gave for their partnership with Cuerpo Inc. during rush week, and I had to admit it makes sense. More to the point, Sig-Ep is THE frat to be in, so I knew I was going to do whatever it took to become a member, hazing be damned.

My face has never been much to look at-- my ears have always been huge, my hair is hopelessly curly, and I think my features are more rugged than handsome. I certainly don't have legacy money or family connections. I pledged with the hope that my muscles or my vibes would get me a ticket in, and I was so relieved to get that offer letter.

They said the house would swap bodies at random for the weekend, but I know that the machinery they use allows you to specify certain swaps and randomize others. I was convinced one of the upperclassmen will be taking my body while I ended up in some twig body for maximum embarrassment... and I wasn't wrong.

Henry is... he's a good guy, honestly. His parents are loaded and he can eat damn near anything and it doesn't affect his figure. I've never been fashion forward, so having access to his closet has been wild. The guy actually owns a sewing machine! He's also one of those guys who is never seen without product in his hair-- he actually left me instructions on how to take care of it. I can only imagine what he's gonna do in my low maintenance body-- all I own are tank tops and gym shirts. I'm half-expecting to come back to a new wardrobe and a manicure. But holy hell, the dude is thin and lanky in ways I didn't think was possible. I hope he enjoys having some actual meat on his bones.

The biggest thing is that Henry is gay. Which, you know, that's totally cool by me! More chicks for the rest of us. But once I was put into his body, seeing all of my fellow bros roaming around shirtless and feeling up their new muscles... I don't know how Henry can wear these skinny jeans all the time. I was rock-hard within minutes and it physically hurt to have my new eight inches constrained by denim. I almost feel guilty, giving him the shorter end of the stick.

I'm pretty sure Henry is an insatiable bottom, so all of that size seems wasted but... what can you do? Anyway, we're allowed to hook up this weekend as long as we use condoms and... when else am I gonna have this opportunity, you know? If I don't take this chance, I'm gonna be consumed by the 'what if's forever. Also the part where I'm horny as fuck in his body.

Lucky for me, whoever ended up in Joey's body was giving me the side-eye the whole time we were at the opening mixer, so I don't think it will take much effort to get my dick wet. His body has the type of smooth skin I've always envied, and I'm honestly jealous at how handsome his face looks. He's got a dirty blonde dye job that plays into his charm, and his muscles are... well, they might be bigger than mine. My real muscles, anyway.

"You wanna head upstairs to my room?" Joey asked, grabbing my bulge in his hand. He flashed a dazzling grin, and I could feel myself swooning from the confidence. God, I wanted him so bad. But Joey was just a Sophomore, which meant he still had one of the smaller bedrooms.

"My room," I said, shaking my head. A thought crossed my mind, and once again I figured I may as well follow the impulse. I threw my arms around Joey's neck and jumped into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but pretty soon his arms were hooked underneath my body to support my weight. So many of my friends back home did that all the time, and now I understood why they found it addicting. I leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath as I whispered into his ear, "I want you inside me."

---------------------------------------------

"I really needed that," I said, putting some clothes back on after the most intense session of my life. "Can't say that I had ever imagined getting fucked by a man before, but, uhh... I enjoyed it, it was good. Hopefully that was good for you, too?" I could feel myself starting to blush. "I've never been a gay man before, but I think I got the hang of it there at the end."

"Bro, you were great, don't even worry about it," Joey said, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, uhh... what do you mean, you've never been a gay man before?"

I paused, trying to figure out whether or not he was messing with me. "I mean... I'm in Henry's body right now? It's me, Matty. I'm not actually gay. But, you know... when in Rome."

He just laughed at me. "Bro, that's not how it works. Attraction is all in the brain. Like... yeah, the real Henry is out and proud, but you being in his body doesn't make you gay. If you were into that, you've always been into dudes. You were just too afraid to admit it."

His face was all smiles, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. "Wait, but... I can't be gay, I've had girlfriends, I..." I tried to come up with some sort of defense, but nothing came to mind. I thought I was caught up in what other guys looked like because I was jealous. Was that just some warped form of attraction? "Are you sure the swap works like that?"

Joey wrapped me in a warm hug. "I'm sure. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to give you a existential crisis. I thought you knew. You may not be gay, if it helps? You might be, like... Bi or Pan instead. And no one's gonna make you pick a label right away. Take your time, see what feels right."

He had a point. Being attracted to dudes wasn't limited to just gay men. And anyway, it's not like being gay would be a bad thing. I just... I didn't think it was me. "Hey, thanks bro," I said, hugging him back. "And... sorry if I sounded insulting. There's nothing wrong with being gay, I just didn't think... well, I'll definitely have to figure out my, uhh... my truth, I guess."

I started lowering my hands back down to his ass, and pretty soon we were making out again. "Hey, are you sure this is what you want?" Joey asked, pausing as I started to strip again. "Feels like you're moving fast, and I want to make sure you're not, like... pressured or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied, smiling at him. "You're the one who told me to see what feels right. That was my first time having sex with a dude, and it felt pretty good. So I think I'm gonna have sex with a guy for a second time. See what happens."

He smiled back, and I could feel myself melt. I don't know who's in Joey's body right now, but I hope it's someone hot. There's no way we aren't hooking up once we swap back.

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji

Length: 3128 words

Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji

TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)

"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 

Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.

"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 

“Who is helping you, who is he?"

"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 

"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.

"I can't fail this."

Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.

"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."

"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"

"You really want this, Minji?"

"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Why do you—"

"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Thank you so much, Unnie!"

"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 

Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 

"Never try to get between him and me."

# 

"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.

"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."

"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 

You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 

Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.

"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."

"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"

"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.

"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"

"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.

"Get on your knees."

"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 

You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 

“H-how did you know—?”

“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."

Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 

Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.

"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"

A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 

"—I'll fulfill your desires."

Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.

Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.

"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."

You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.

The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?

"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.

"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."

"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"

You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—

"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."

—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.

You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 

"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"

"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."

"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."

Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."

"Oh, 

"You call this nothing?"

You tsk and slap her face with your cock.

"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 

You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.

"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—

The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.

"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.

"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 

Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.

She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 

The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.

You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.

"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."

"Can you do that?"

Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 

Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.

"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."

You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 

"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 

But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 

"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”

She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 

And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 

Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.

"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."

Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."

"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."

"Yes, Master."

"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.

"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."

Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—

"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"

You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.

Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.

"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."

"M-Master, I..."

"Shut the fuck up.

"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 7

Previous parts may be found here.

Johnny finds a new purpose. CW: domestic violence.

-

((A video begins, shaky. It focuses on you, sitting at the dining table in your old apartment, your head in your hands. Tears have dripped onto the wood in front of you. As the camera approaches, you give a great sniff and lean back in your seat, tearful eyes meeting the lens. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice warbling. 

“Filming in case you get violent,” your boyfriend says. He turns the camera around to front facing, showing where he sports a swollen lower lip, tugging it outward to show where his teeth had cut into soft flesh. “See what you did to me? Now can we talk like two civil adults or are you going to hit me again?” 

“Get the camera out of my face,” you grit out through your teeth.

The camera comes closer. “You’re getting worked up. I can tell. Try taking some deep breaths.” 

“I said get it out of my face!” you shout. 

“There’s no talking to you when you’re like this. Why don’t you just hit me again? I know you want to,” he says. 

The camera comes closer, closer, close enough to tap teasingly against your temple. The video goes chaotic as the phone is knocked from his hands to the floor, clattering loudly against the tile. Socked feet come into the frame and the phone is picked up, turned back on you. Your head is in your hands again, but no more tears are falling on the table. 

He gives a quiet laugh—but that can be edited out.

The video ends.))

-

Johnny finds a new pastime: planning murder. 

He paces the walkable space in the apartment. The sound must drive the people below them crazy: tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump, but there are never any complaints. If there were, Simon would handle them with all the grace he had left (which is to say none). When Johnny refuses to leave the apartment, he dresses warm because Simon keeps the AC up: long pants he can pull up himself (buttoning jeans is on his List of things to relearn), soft long-sleeved shirts. They put a safety pin through the sleeve without any arm to fill it because Johnny hates for it to be flapping in the breeze when he really gets walking. Like he is now. 

“The camera’s a problem,” he says, accent rough. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Simon all morning. The two are still on the outs with each other—that is to say that Johnny is giving him the coldest shoulder, refusing his help for as many tasks as possible, and scowling darkly whenever he can’t. 

Johnny points to the corner of the room at Simon’s blank expression. “One camera, northeastern end of the hallway. There’s another in the elevator, but it only faces inward. I’m no’ worried about it.” 

Simon realizes belatedly what Johnny is getting at. 

“Drop it, Johnny.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Say less. Or nothing.” 

Johnny mutters something foul under his breath that Simon pretends not to have heard. He pretends that he is an empty vessel, no heart left to hurt. Before Johnny, he’d nearly believed that to be true. Now he just wishes it were. 

After a lengthy silence that Johnny spends staring at the wall which separates his apartment from yours, he asks: “Do yeh think the cameras work or they’re only there fer show?” 

Simon lets out all his breath through his nose and refuses to dignify that with a response. He wants to leave. He wants to disappear downstairs for a cigarette, for something to do with his hands and something to calm his jittering nerves. While he used to fear that Johnny would kill himself if left alone, Simon has a new fear: that Johnny will kill someone else if he is left alone. How fucking fucked up can things get before Simon’s vessel breaks? 

He opens a text to you, debates with himself and loses. Thirty minutes? he asks.

To Johnny, he’s ashamed to say that he says: “You’re due for your pills.” 

“Aye. Then give them to me.” 

He dishes out two of the little green ovals, the one that usually knock Johnny flat on his arse for three or four hours at a time. Simon isn’t sure if you’ll answer his text, but he plans to try to rest either way, even if he has to pin Johnny’s body to the bed with his own to do it with any sort of peace. 

To Simon’s relief, you message back just as Johnny’s eyes are drooping. His gait becomes affected by the drugs in his system, ataxic and stumbling, and when Simon goes and takes the crutch from him, tucks Johnny’s arm over his shoulder, the smaller man lets him. 

“Still angry at you,” mutters Johnny as Simon lays him down in bed and covers him with a blanket. He looks relaxed the way only Oxy can make him, limbs heavy with cotton. His eyes close almost right away, soft snores filling the air, but Simon sits on the side of the bed for several more minutes just watching him. Missing him—missing the old him. The one with two arms. Hating himself for feeling that way. 

“I’m begging you Johnny,” he whispers to the quiet snoring man, his mouth barely moving. “I’m begging you to leave this idea alone. Because if you’re committed to it, then I’m going to have to help you. Because I can’t let them take you somewhere ever again where I can’t follow you. Don’t make me a killer again. Please.”

There’s a quiet knock at the door. Simon thumbs at his eyes just to be safe and lets you in. 

You’re dressed from the diner, sweat on your forehead from your walk to the apartment. It’s the first time you two have seen each other since that terrible day that Johnny chose to sit next to your piece of shit boyfriend at the bar. Without the other man there, there is more life in your cautious eyes as you glance toward the bedroom in silent question. 

“Asleep,” Simon affirms. 

“You should go join him,” you whisper. “You look tired.” 

“I just might. If that’s alright.” 

You nod your head. Simon’s heart clenches with the strangest sensation for you, one he hasn’t felt for anyone save Johnny: fondness. If he thinks too long about why you’re here—just repaying a debt that doesn’t truly exist—he’ll talk himself out of the rest he needs. Let him talk himself out of it another day, after a little sleep. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice rougher than he would like it to be. 

He goes and curls up on the bed beside Johnny, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him, and falls asleep before his head hits the pillow. 

And when he wakes, nearly two hours have passed. You’re standing at the foot of their bed like a child coming to wake their parents in the night, and it nearly startles a sound out of him. Heart pounding, he sits up, sleep vanishing from his system. Your hands are anxious, wringing together in front of you as you rush out of the bedroom once you know he’s awake. He gives Johnny a cursory glance—still snoring—and follows you. 

“I let you sleep as long as I could, but I really need to leave now,” you whisper. 

“You should have woken me,” Simon says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you answer mindlessly, already working your apartment key from your pocket.

“Don’t lie to me,” says Simon, stern but soft. 

The two of you stare at each other. 

“Okay,” you say at length. “I won’t.” 

A lie if Simon’s ever heard one. 

-

That night when your boyfriend is asleep,  you go back to your drawer. For a moment, you can’t find the lighter. A part of you is convinced that it will be gone, that he will have found it and moved it and be biding his time to bring it up to you, and just when you are nearly convinced to give up, your hand encloses around the hard piece of metal and plastic and you pull it free. You carry it into the bathroom just to flick the pinwheel once, watching the fire burst into life. In the little orange flame, you’re convinced that you see Johnny and Simon, their figures curled around each other on their bed in the darkness where you had stood like an intruder waiting to make yourself known. Your heart aches with a throbbing you can’t understand. You let the flame die and smuggle the lighter back into the drawer. 

-

Johnny thinks about everything. 

The cameras: who he plans to talk to to find out if they’re real and if so where the footage is being held. The entry points: the front door which you rarely leave unlocked, and the balcony doors which he is already considering how to get to. The method: simplicity is best, something which looks like a terrible, untimely accident. A slip and a fall, a head injury beyond repair, a broken neck. Nothing traceable, no weapons. The alibi: Simon. 

Simon would vouch for him, Johnny knows. Even if they aren’t on good terms (and just thinking of the other man makes Johnny’s blood boil), Johnny still loves him, and Johnny knows that Simon loves him back. Simon would die for him. Nearly has, many times. Time doesn’t change something like that, except to make it stronger. 

Johnny barely notices it, but as the days pass, he grows stronger too. The walking comes a little easier. Sometimes he manages inside the apartment without the crutch, his knee a dormant throb as he grips onto the nearest surface when his balance goes wonky. 

With the good comes the bad. There’s a little less pain, yes, but also less pain pills in the bottle and even fewer doctors willing to prescribe them to him. They want to know what else Johnny is trying to lessen his pain; how’s therapy going, has he tried icing and elevating his knee, does he use Tylenol? None of them understand what it’s like to function at his level of pain every day. He counts the pills left in the bottle and dreads the day they run out. 

The nightmares get worse, too. He starts digging through the snow every night looking for his arm and uncovering bodies instead: the men who had died on the helicopter, sometimes Simon, sometimes you. He takes his Keppra every day and has no more seizures, but the medicine makes him feel restless in his own skin, like he’s in a cocoon, like he’s transforming into something. Something else. 

Maybe it’s just in his head. Maybe there’s just something in the air. 

Saturday is coming, after all. 

-

Thursday, Johnny’s anger wavers. He moves quieter now without the crutch, and it gives him the stealth to sneak up on Simon for the first time since his accident. He catches his lover with his head in his hands at the kitchen table, fingers buried in his short blond hair, the picture of exhausted defeat. Johnny must make some sound, his socks brushing against the linoleum, because then Simon’s head snaps up, face morphing into a neutral expression. But there’s no hiding the shadows beneath his eyes. There’s no hiding the way the frown lines on either side of his mouth look more at home than ever. 

The craving for him rises up in Johnny so keenly that it’s almost a pain. He doesn’t fight it, just hobbles quietly across the kitchen to stand at Simon’s side and let Simon lean his head against Johnny’s belly. Johnny runs his fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, thinking about how foreign it feels to be doing this with the wrong hand. With the Weak Hand. 

“Yer a stubborn bastard,” Johnny whispers. 

“Talking to yourself in the mirror again, Johnny?” 

Before Johnny can answer, there comes the sound of rising voices from the hallway. Your voice is easily recognizable—and angry. The two meet eyes briefly and then both are dashing (as well as Johnny can dash) to the front door, holding their breath to better hear the argument taking place just beyond their door. 

“—don’t like it, then you can go back to the shelter.” 

A door slams shut. Johnny flinches at the sound. 

Your hand pounds against the wood. “Let me in you fucking cunt!” you shout. “I pay for this shithole, you let me in or I swear to God—”

It’s rare for them to be so in sync these days, but as Johnny reaches for the latch lock, Simon reaches for the deadbolt. Their fingers brush against the knob as they twist the door open in perfect harmony, Ghost and Soap, both on your six. 

You freeze, fist raised to beat savagely against the door again. Your face is swollen from tears, cheeks wet, hair disheveled. Your knuckles are peeling. Wiping your face dry of tears, you can say nothing—no excuse, no explanation for your actions. You lamely point at the door. 

“He…he’s locked me out.” 

Simon silently nudges their door open wider just a hair, a silent offer. 

You take it. 

-

It’s the first time you’ve ever been inside their apartment when Johnny is awake. Johnny doesn’t have his arm crutch as he guides you to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair for you, and it’s strange to see him without it. 

“Would yeh make tea?” Johnny asks Simon. 

Simon gets to work without comment, filling the kettle and pulling cups from the cabinet. You remember the taste of tea from the last time Simon offered you some: bitter without any sugar, but so warm in your belly. Soothing. Your stomach growls. You press your fist against it and hope to silence any further noises. 

“Does that happen often?” Johnny asks, exuding an eerie calmness as he takes the seat across from you. “Him locking yeh out, I mean.”

You shrug a shoulder miserably. It happens more often than you’d admit even under duress. He knows you have limited options when you’re locked out of the apartment, with no friends to go to and no family nearby. There are shelters, but they are terrible places where terrible things happen to needful people. You won’t go there anymore. Not ever again. 

You know what he really wants: for you to beg to be allowed back in. And eventually you will. You always do. Just…not yet. 

“You can stay here for as long as you need to,” says Simon, setting a teacup in front of you. You had disappeared into your own head for a moment—for a handful of minutes—and you could feel their eyes on you. Judging you. 

Except when you meet the clear blue gaze of Johnny, there’s no hint of judgement in them. He looks like he’s trying to see through you to the chair at your back. When he catches you looking, he forces a smile, something soft and kind and maybe not truthful. 

Were you an idiot to be alone in this apartment with two strange men? You felt that they were good people, but your instincts were broken. They had misled you before.

“He makes me out to look like I’m crazy,” you whisper, speech pressured, hands wringing in your lap. “But I’m not crazy. I swear. I’m not—“

“We believe you,” Simon says simply. 

And you believe him. The relief is almost enough to make you cry fresh tears, but you blink them away, on the verge of a splitting headache already from all the tears you had cried. 

“How’s giving up smoking going?” you ask to change the subject. You burn your tongue on your tea again, but it feels good to fill up your belly like this, so you drain the cup. 

“Fantastically,” says Johnny with a grin. “Lost my lighter.” 

Your face burns with warmth. 

“Bad luck,” you offer. 

Johnny’s grin widens. He hums. 

Simon stays silent, one hand coming to rest against Johnny’s knee beneath the table, if the slope of his arm tells you anything. It makes you want to dash your mug to the floor, it hurts so much. You want something like it so bad. 

“I’m going to take a walk around the block I think,” you say, standing. A piece of you feels left behind in the chair, broken into bits. “Cool off a bit. Thank you for the tea.” 

“It’s just tea,” Simon reminds you, also standing. He goes to the table by the door and you hear the rustling of keys. When he returns, he has a silver one in the palm of his hand. “Take this. If you ever get locked out again—come over here. We’re probably home, but if we aren’t, just let yourself in.”

“I couldn’t,” you say, eyes wide. 

“You can.” He puts the key in your hand firmly. “You will. Understand?” 

You swallow the knot in your throat and nod your head, reluctant but grateful. 

You slip out the front door, the key burning a hole in your pocket. 

Once the door has shut behind you, Johnny stands from the table, chair legs screeching against the linoleum. He goes to Simon and wraps his arms around him. The two embrace for the first time in days. 

“Yer a good man, Simon Riley.” 

Simon sighs softly and lets his head rest against the crown of Johnny’s own. First a coward, then a bastard, now a good man. What a metamorphosis. 

He’s afraid of who he might turn out to be next. 

[reikook]

summary: y/n finds herself caught in a web of as she develops unexpected feelings for her brother's best friend once she comes back from uni for summer break. initial hesitation, the undeniable connection between them pulls her closer, leading to a forbidden romance that tests loyalties and boundaries.

parring: fuckboy!jk x richgirloc

warnings: jk has some anger issues.., they play tennis alott brother best friend trope, y/n brother is taehyung, situationship, secret relationship kinda?, jungkook used to fw y/ns bestie OOP, thier all rich asf smut. angst drug use. and many more to come in other chapters

“Y/n! Taehyung!” their mother said hugging them both. “it’s been so long i miss my kiddos!”

They unloaded the car quickly, and as soon as they were done, y/n picked up her suitcase and book bag and headed straight for her old bedroom.

It had calico wallpaper and a white bedroom set and not to mention it was huge. she went over to her night stand and saw a white framed picture of her as a middle schooler and she quickly put it in the drawer “ew”

Y/ns mom knocks on her door “get dressed Taehyung is inviting his friends over for dinner

Y/n groans knowing his douche friends are coming over.

“Wear something nice!” Y/n mother said leaving her be in her room. Y/n flops on her bed and sighs heavily falling to sleep from the long airplane trip.

Y/n decided to wear a black crop top and light washed blue baggy jeans with black and white converse. She went downstairs of her almost mansion and saw his friends. She already knew them but there was a new member?

He had fluffy black hair, black shirt and jorts with black sambas and tattoos going down his arm with sliver chrome hearts bracelet and a lip piercing. Holy fuck.

Y/n sneaked up back upstairs to her room and added mascara and concealer. Then went back downstairs and sat down at the neatly seat dinner table

“You have a nice home Mrs. L/n” jimin said stuffing his face with the salad. “Aw thank you sweetheart!” Her mom responded, Y/n almost cringed by her mom acting fake and nice

“Y/n can you hand me the bread please?” Taehyung butted in. She reached over and handed it to him

“So.. jungkook? Is that your name?” Jungkook nodded knowing he’s about to be questioned

“You have a lot of tattoos wow.. what did your parents say?” Y/n mom says

“Mom stop” Taehyung whispers to her

“It’s fine my parents didn’t really care about them and I like them a lot so”

Y/ns mom hummed

“And what about you y/n how’s school going? I mean they’ve been calling me alot so”

She shrugged playing with her food. This is the worst thing ever for y/n

After dinner y/n took a shower and changed into a hoodie and shorts and laid on her bed watching tiktok trying to keep her mind off that hottie. She went quickly to Instagram to find him but was quickly interrupted.

Taehyung barged in her room “yo wanna play tennis”

“Sure”

Y/n got up and put her phone on the charger and put on her tennis shoes and grabbed her racket from her closet .They both walked to the tennis court and grabbed the tennis ball

“Ready?” Taehyung yelled out

Y/n hit the ball.

“I’m gonna get a drink of water” y/n called out dropping her racket and walking out of the court and went to the clubhouse and there he was standing there with a blunt in his hand

“Oh shit” jungkook said throwing it away quickly

“I don’t care about that” y/n said filling up her water bottle”

“Wait I think i remember you” jungkook said looking at her intensely “oh shit it’s you! Weren’t you friends with what’s her name.. oh yea Elise. God she was a bitch, no offense”

“What?” Y/n said confused totally of what he just said

“Elise your friend? We dated for like a month or some shit senior year in high school

“I don’t know. I mean she’s my friend but she never told me about you

“Such a bitch..” he said looking up and getting flashbacks

“Shes coming to see me this week I think”

“Eh I don’t care I have no feelings for her anymore as long if I don’t see her dumb face”

Y/n laughed at that “when did u become friends with taehyung?”

“Like this year I was his plug then we just became friends I guess

“Taehyung smokes?”

“No edibles big baby”

Y/ns mouth formed a “o”

“Do you smoke?

“Um.. no I play tennis for my school”

“Boring. Anyway it was nice talking to you.. are u gonna get that”

Y/n looked to see her water bottle was overfilling “Oh thanks”

He walked past her and walked out of her sight. Y/n smiled to herself walking back to the court. “The fuck were you doing?” Taehyung called out

“Nothing? I said I was filling up my water bottle”

“Sureeee”

a/n: hope yall enjoyed this one pls give me feedback this is like my first story ever and this is inspired by euphoria and challengers the movie!

[miasmaghoul]

WAHHHH AEON CONVINCING EVERYONE THEYRE HIS FIRST. thinkijg thoughts about omega and aether breaking him in and then hes all virgin to whoevers next and after they go to aether like “why did u not fuck the new guy??” and aethers like i did?? and it all comes out but they keep it a secret to see how long/how many ghouls/papas aeon can get with his bit

I think Aether is his first, and he's enough of a gentleman not to let anyone know. Not his information to share - well except for one night when he replays it all for Dew in excruciating detail, but that's easily taken care of with a little quintosis. No harm done.

Swiss is Aeon's second, though, and he's been enough of an actual first to be able to see right through Aeon's coy smiles and the way he bats his lashes. It's easy enough to figure out who was:

"Can't believe I haven't gotten my hands on you yet."

Swiss murmurs it into his throat, both hands shoved into Aeon's hastily undone jeans. One tugging at his semi and the other curled around his bony hip, Swiss' rough fingers petting at his hole. Aeon's gasping already, still half-tangled in the hoodie he was removing when Swiss shoved him onto one of the hotel beds. This is what he gets for spending all evening - hells, all day, really - being a flirty little shit, he supposes. He licks his lips and swallows hard, putting on his best innocent face; wide, damp puppy eyes, pouty lips, the whole nine yards. Swiss stares down at him like a wolf who's pinned a deer, smile sharp even without his fangs, and Aeon's heart skips in his chest. He knew Swiss would be rough, but this is a thrill.

"Surprised Aether didn't get you first," Swiss rumbles with a twist of his wrist, and Aeon gives himself away when his eyes glaze over.

Swiss isn't even sure if the other ghoul knows he does this, or if the others have caught it, but when Aeon really remembers something he sort of...disappears for a second. Just for a heartbeat, very easy to miss if you aren't looking for it, but Swiss has spent more than enough time with the new kid to pick up on it. It's like he's reliving the moment he's been reminded of in a flash. Swiss wonders if it has something to do with his magick; Omega had something of a photographic memory, maybe Aeon has something similar? He doesn't know.

What he does know, is that when he says Aether's name Aeon does that thing where he goes away for a moment, and his cock flexes so hard they both choke.

So that's a yes, then.

Swiss doesn't say a word, lets Aeon play the blushing virgin because, well, it's not like he isn't into that, and holds him close afterwards. Gives him a bath and orders his favorite takeout meal before they go to sleep. He even lets Aeon be the big spoon.

He calls Aether while Aeon's in the shower the next morning, just to make sure, and the silence when he asks Aether if he knows if Aeon's slept with anyone is so, so loud. Swiss says it's kinda hot that Aeon likes to play pretend, and they both manage to squeeze out a quick one and agree to keep this knowledge to themselves before Aeon's even done in the bathroom. Swiss texts Aether a quick video of him blowing a kiss with his cummy hand, and Aether responds in kind.

After that, I think Mountain is next, but he isn't one to brag. Rain comes after that, but is suspicious about being Aeon's first despite his shy admissions while Rain was between his legs. He finds out for sure via a good ol' fashioned footjob, because Mountain would give up nuclear launch codes if it meant having the chance to feel Rain's toes work the head of his cock. Rain doesn't feel particularly miffed - the kid put on a good show, after all, and good sex is good sex. He and Mountain both think they're the only ones, though, so they agree to keep it between them.

Word gets out after Dew has his turn with Aeon and brags about it to Swiss over gas station coffee a few days later. Swiss, who cannot for the life of him let the little guy have anything, and immediately snorts into his styrofoam cup. Rain overhears them and they all share a knowing snicker (as soon as Dew finishes scowling) once they figure out Aeon's little game. Swiss calls Cirrus over to let her know, just in case Aeon's tried the same thing with her, and she looks absolutely delighted.

"He asked me just yesterday if I would "answer some questions about his body"," she shares, accepting a sip of Dew's hot chocolate. "That he's experiencing some "new things" and has "questions about girls." He was blushing like a whore in church and everything."

The squeak of sneakers on slick tile echoes behind them, and a pair of lanky arms loop themselves between Swiss and Rain's shoulders.

"Speak of the devil," Swiss grunts, Aeon tugging him down to plant a good morning kiss on his cheek. Aeon grins.

"Mornin' Cir," he greets with a nod, ignoring the rest of them entirely. The ghouls share a collective eye roll. "I just talked to Papa, like you asked." If the new kid's tail was out, it would be wagging like an excited retriever's. "He said it's $750 for tomorrow and $1250 for Thursday, but if you need more then just use the black card."

Cirrus gives him a warm smile, reaching across their little circle to ruffle his hair. Aeon beams at her, might as well have hearts in his eyes when she cups his chin and says,

"Good boy, thank you."

Cirrus gives his cheek an affectionate pat, and that blush they've all come to know by now makes its appearance.

"Tell you what - come to my room tonight. You can help me pick out where we stay for the next few nights. I can show you all sorts of secrets," she adds, giving him a slow once over that makes Aeon flush down his throat. "About how to pick the right hotel in these smaller areas, of course," she clarifies, handing Dew back his lipstick-stained cup and straightening her coat. "I might even have the girls drop in and give you some extra hints."

Cirrus winks, and Aeon's walk to the bus is slow and awkward. They all have the kindness to hold in their laughter until he's out of earshot, but Swiss and Rain both have tears running down their cheeks by the time they calm down.

"Don't break the kid, Cir," Dew says through a cough, wiping his eyes. "I have at least one more ticket for that ride."

"No promises," she grins, eyes sparkling. "Oh he's going to be fun."

That night, Cumulus and Aurora have him together, with Cirrus guiding them all through a very thorough anatomy lesson because Aeon is just so new to all this and has no idea what he's doing, please don't tell anyone:((((. And they're all just so sweet to him, so giving, even after it starts to hurt because they just know he must have so much stuffed inside those tight little balls of his if this is his first time!

They pinky swear not to tell anyone that he cries.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just You and Me: Part Two

On every part of this series, there will be a poll where you can vote whether you want reader to end up with Steve or Eddie or both! This has been so much fun to write and I hope y’all enjoy!

summary: you debut your “relationship at Corroded Coffin’s gig at The Hideout, unknowingly hurting the both of them.

cw: hurt/no comfort, angst, mention of alcohol

part one

Steve is sitting on the couch in your living room while you show him the entire time frame of your “relationship” that you’ve mapped out on a piece of poster board. You put it up on an easel and even got a collapsible metal pointer to really show him how serious you are about the whole thing.

Though, he seems more interested in the bag of potato chips he’s snacking on as opposed to the whole point of why he’s even at your apartment. He knows he’s supposed to be focusing, but how can he when you’re wearing that skirt that drives him crazy? Your legs just look so good and he’s so desperate to run his hands up and down your thighs as he lies on top of you, kissing you until you’re both-

“Steve, hello,” you’re waving your hand in front of his face and he’s quick to snap back into reality.

“Huh?” He asks, still partially in his daze and you snatch the chip bag from his hand and see them down on the coffee table that sits between you, making sure it’s just out of reach for him.

“Focus.“ You hit the pointer against the poster board to try to get his attention, but he’s still got that dreamy look in his eye. You wonder what’s so important that he’s not listening to you. It seems like he’s been in his own head for days.

“Sorry.” Now he feels like a jackass. You’re going through all of this effort and all he’s doing is staring at your body. He brings his focus back to the board and for the first time, he’s actually looking and holy shit, with how much thought you’ve put into this whole thing, it might just work.

“Where is your head today?” Up his ass, apparently. He can’t think about anything except how beautiful you look and it’s fucking with his head.

“I’m sorry. I was just up really late last night.” He’s actually not lying. He couldn’t sleep because of you. Because of this whole thing and how he isn’t exactly sure how it’s going to play out.

“Right, with your flavor of the week?” He hasn’t actually slept with anyone in a long time. He would just keep wishing it was you so he just stopped altogether because he didn’t want to lead anyone.

“Nope, just me and my hand, unfortunately.” He holds up said hand and wiggles his fingers which causes you to grimace.

“Gross.”

“So when does this whole thing start?” He asks, leaning against the couch with his arms sitting along the back.

“Tomorrow night. Corroded Coffin is performing at the Hideout so it’s a perfect opportunity.”

“So, no practice? We’re just going balls deep?” How the hell are you going to pull this off without practice? That makes no sense and no one’s even going to believe you if you can’t be convincing.

“First of all, don’t ever say that again. Second, we’re going to practice right now so just chill out, alright?” You head over to the couch and sit down next to Steve. Your thighs are touching and he can feel the heat from you through his jeans. If things were different, he’d have you straddling his lap, his hands resting on your back as he kisses you until you’re both breathless.

“Practice what?” He asks. Maybe if he actually read everything on your easel, he wouldn’t be so confused.

“Hold my hand,” you tell him and he hates that his cheeks are blushing. He’s held your hand so many times, but this is different. It’s supposed to be romantic, or implying that it is to other people.

His hand slides into yours, fingers intertwining and when he looks up at your face, you’re staring at him like he’s just hung the moon. God, you’re good. You’re acting, right? You have to be. Because if you weren’t and actually in love with him then you wouldn’t even be doing this whole stupid thing.

“You’re a natural,” you tell him with a smile.

“I’m just holding your hand, l/n. It’s not rocket science.”

“Still,” you shrug. “You know exactly what to do.” And he does. You’d never admit it, but his hand feels nice in yours. It’s soft and smooth and the way that his thumb is rubbing back and forth along yours. You almost don’t want to let go.

“Is this it?” Steve asks, still feeling his heart hammer in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his. He’d never tell you how right it feels to him. How he wants to hold your hand forever and never let go.

“No,” You shake your head, your hand reluctantly slipping out of his. You turn your body fully to face him and he mimics you, trying his best to not reach for your hand again. “I was wondering if you’d be comfortable practicing kissing.” Would he be comfortable? He’s only dreamed about kissing you every day for the majority of his life. He’s so ready and trying to not show just how eager he is.

“I’m open to it,” he nods and you bring your legs up onto the couch, crossing them over each other. And once again, Steve mimics you, doing the exact same thing. He watches as you take a deep breath. Could it be possible that you’re just as nervous? That would actually make him feel a whole lot better.

Your hands slowly reach up and grab hold of his face, cradling it gently. He hums at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Is this actually real? Or does this dream just seem so realistic? As soon as your lips touch his, he’s sure that it’s real. And it’s perfect, everything he ever dreamed it would be.

His mouth moves with yours as one hand rests at the back of your head, the other resting on your waist. And of fucking course you’re a good kisser. You’re good at everything. It’s only supposed to be short, but neither of you want to be the first to break away.

So you stay like that for just a little longer. You even go as far as licking into his mouth to deepen it, so close to climbing into his lap, but you refrain. It isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s just practice. But you’re enjoying it way more than you thought you would. So much so that you’re not even thinking about why you’re doing it or Eddie for that matter. All you’re thinking about is Steve and how much you want him inside you.

Steve lets out a moan and you’re quick to pull away, finally pulled back into reality. His pupils are blown wide and his lips are a pretty shade of pink from being kiss bitten. He runs his hands through his hair and god, he’s just so pretty. You’ve always thought that, but especially tonight. You have to pull yourself out of your thoughts, trying to think about Eddie. That’s your main focus.

You don’t like Steve. This was just you getting caught up in the moment. That’s all it is. You just have to make sure that you don’t go that far again so you don’t do something you know you shouldn’t. As long as all of your kisses are around other people, that shouldn’t be a problem.

“How was that?” You ask before rolling your lips into your mouth.

“That was-” Steve cuts himself off, his cheeks turning a bright pink. “That was-I mean, wow.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re unsure, but you’re hoping so. He wouldn’t have kissed you for that long if it was bad, right?

“Yes.”

“Well, good. I think we’re going to be convincing.” So you still want to go through with it. Eddie is still your goal. He doesn’t know why he thought that his kiss would make you want to call the whole thing off. Clearly all Steve will ever be to you is your best friend.

The rest of the night is spent role playing different scenarios and acting accordingly. Steve tries his best to play it off like he’s fine, but really, all he wants to do is throw in the towel. He wants to just quit and tell you that you’re on your own because it’s all just hurting too much.

But because he’s just such a great friend, he doesn’t. He can’t. You’ve already gotten this far and now you have to see it through. He also doesn’t want you asking Robin. Partly because he knows Robin can’t lie for shit and partly because he’d just be super jealous. So he’s going to do it and he’s going to do it with a big smile on his face because he doesn’t want to hurt you.

The Hideout is pretty empty when you and Steve show up. This is the usual turn out for a Tuesday night, but you and your friends are going to cheer for the band just like you always do. They’re setting up their equipment on the stage and you and Steve make a beeline for them, you trying to not seem so excited to see Eddie.

He looks so good in his leather jacket, cropped t-shirt, and jeans that hug his body in all the right places. He catches sight of you out of the corner of his eye and cuts his conversation with Gareth short as he hurries over to you.

He jumps off the stage and Steve’s quick to pull you back so you don’t get hurt, trying his hardest not to glare at the guy. That’s one of his best friends and is he really going to be the kind of guy who lets a girl get in between them? No way. Their friendship is way more important than that.

“You made it,” Eddie smiles, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“I always do,” you smile back and Steve doesn’t like the flirty looks you’re giving each other. “And I even brought Stevie to be another one of your cheerleaders.”

Eddie watches the way Steve wraps his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder. This doesn’t surprise him since you’re always touchy with each other, but this time, it seems different. And when Steve kisses your cheek, he knows it is.

“So, you two, huh?” He asks, pushing hands further into his pockets, balling his fists as he tries his best to hide how upset he is. He always knew this day would come. The two of you are meant for each other and everyone knows it. He just wished he would have had a chance before the two of you made it official. But he supposes that you were always bound to end up together. That’s how that kind of shit always goes for Eddie.

“Yeah,” you nod with a smile, looking up at Steve and Eddie feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest because it’s not him who you’re looking at like that. “For a couple weeks now, wouldn’t you say so, honey?”

“I’d say so,” Steve nods, not even having to try to look lovingly at you.

“Well, I’m happy for you. It was a long time coming.” He’s smiling through the pain, trying his best to pretend like he can’t hear his heart breaking.

There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite make out and you really wish you knew if he was telling the truth. But then again, Eddie is one who’s known for being honest, even brutally so. And you’ve been friends long enough that you expect him to tell you the truth when something is bothering him.

But Eddie would never tell you the truth, not about how he feels about you, anyway. He’s taking that shit to the grave now since you’re with Steve. He excuses himself to head back to the stage to make sure that everything is all set and you’re starting to think that went too well. He really wasn’t even a little jealous?

You and Steve head to the bar and he’s squeezing your shoulder to show you that he’s sympathetic to the situation. Because as badly as he wants to be with you, he really just wants you to be happy in the end even if it’s not with him.

The two of you sip on your drinks, standing even closer to each other than you normally would, feeling the need to touch each other in any way you can to make the whole thing believable. You have to admit that Steve is a much better actor than you had initially thought. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he was in love with you.

How devastating that would be if he was? You would have felt so horrible for asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend if you knew that was what he was wanting from you all along. That would really make you feel like a dick because how cruel would that have been to make him pretend to be something he’s wanted to be all for the purpose of trying to get the attention of someone else?

You reach up and brush some hair out of Steve’s face and he’s trying so hard to reel back his feelings. He’s been thinking about that kiss since it happened and if he had the balls, he would have asked you if you could price again. He’s desperate for more, so close to pulling you yo the bathroom to have his way with you, fucking you senseless until you completely forget Eddie’s name, Steve’s being the only one to fall from your lips.

You’re nudging him from his fantasy and he’s immediately snapped back to reality. How long was he out? His fantasies seem to be lasting way longer lately, much more real. He’s getting even more pathetic by the second and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

“It's about to start. Let’s go.” You grab him by the hand and he follows you to the front of the stage where you’re beaming up at Eddie who’s at the front of the stage, introducing the band into the mic before going into the first song.

He watches you the entire time, hating how Steve’s got his arms wrapped around you, his chin making a home on your shoulder. He’s filled with more anger than he knows what to do with. Seeing how you’re looking at each other makes him so jealous that he’s so close to diving off the stage and tackling Steve, which he knows is wrong.

Because truly, neither of you are doing anything wrong. You’re just a couple and Eddie was actually counting down the days, trying to slide in before you got together, but he’s too late. And he’s kicking himself for it.

He’s so focused on you and Steve that he’s not even paying attention to what he’s doing. He’s actually not even sure how he can keep up with his bandmates. He’s trying to focus on the lyrics he’s singing. The lyrics he wrote for you and how he feels about you.

You can’t believe how talented Eddie is. How this is what he’s really meant to do. You just know he’s going to make it and pretty soon, Corroded Coffin is going to sell out arenas, The Hideout being just the beginning.

He’s so into what he’s singing, his eyes closed. But you don’t know that he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to see you with Steve. The song is so romantic, unlike the band’s other songs. Eddie’s voice sounds so pained and you hope that he’s not speaking from personal experience. Even though it hurts thinking about him being with someone else, you’d hate for him to not be able to be with who he’s interested in.

He’s grabbed your attention as he goes into his guitar solo, the cords slower than what he’s used to. You’re hypnotized by the way his fingers slide across the strings, doing it so effortlessly that you can’t help but be impressed.

Steve sees the way you’re staring and pulls you closer to him to get your attention. How will it look if his girlfriend is looking at the lead singer like he’s hung the moon? He knows no one cares, but he does. He honestly only cares because of how badly he wants you to look at him like that. That’s all he’s ever wanted and he knows that he’s not going to get it. Because it’s just his luck that he'd be in love with someone who isn’t in love with him. He’s never anyone’s first choice.

The set ends and the two of you wait as Eddie and the band pack up their equipment. You’re supposed to go out to dinner with them afterwards and Steve is absolutely dreading it. He just wants to go home and drown himself in the bottle of tequila he bought the other night and listen to your favorite record on repeat.

You wait until Eddie is distracted and wrap your arms around Steve's neck, throwing your head back as a loud laugh escapes your lips. Steve somehow catches on and he laughs as well, his genuine because yours is just so damn contagious.

Eddie looks up from where he’s putting his guitar away and that feeling in his gut he’s been having since the two of you showed up gets even worse, to the point where it starts to hurt. Yeah, he’s not going out tonight. He’s going to curl up in his bed and write some of the most devastating lyrics.

And when he watches the two of you lean in for a kiss, well, you might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest. That would have hurt a lot less. Gareth follows Eddie’s line of sight and doesn’t even have to ask to know what Eddie is thinking.

He doesn’t see how no one else knows how Eddie feels. He’s so goddamn obvious that it’s become painful to watch. And he knows you like him too so seeing you show up with Steve really threw him off. He knows that Steve likes you too, so this whole thing is really just a mess. He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, especially not Eddie because he’s always getting the short end of the stick.

The rest of the members go out to dinner which you politely decline the invitation to since Eddie’s not going. You just have Steve drop you off at your apartment because being by yourself suddenly sounds so inviting. You just want to be by yourself because of how hurt you are that your plan is failing and it’s only started. How the hell are you going to continue when it’s not even effective?

So, the three of you wallow in your self pity in your respective rooms, hating how everything is turning out. It’s all so painful and unfair. Tears are shed and alcohol is drunk like water to numb the pain that you’re all feeling. Something that should be so simple has been complicated because you just had to go and pull Steve into your scheme instead of just being honest with him. And it seems like you’re going to pay for it, unknowingly hurting the both of them.

[that-tmr-girl]

All Night {Newt x Minho x Reader Smut}

When you're tired of only dreaming about it, you decide to take Minho and Newt.

Threesome, masterbation, handjob, blowjob, chest riding, vaginal sex, oral, overstimulation, praise

Greenie night is always fun. There's nothing like staying by the fire and relaxing. We all kick back, relax, and let ourselves enjoy life to the fullest.

I could do that too, but I won't. I can't.

I had a dream again, and I woke up too late to fix myself. It has my two absolute best friends in it. Minho and Newt were in my bed. They had me in every single position. They were using every hole. They didn't stop. They just kept going and going until I was about to collapse. Then, they fucked me some more.

I woke up to see that I was completely wet. I was dripping and sore. I was in shock again. No matter how many times I have those dreams, they always leave my mind foggy for the rest of the day.

I kept thinking about. How Minho looked in the runners harness. He could be so deadpan but sarcastic. He was such a leader and didn't take anything from anyone. He had perfect muscles and a beautiful smile.

Newt is incredible. His tank top shows off his more subtle but still defined muscles. He was more than helpful. He’s selfless and kind. He’s not afraid to put someone in line. He’s fair and always levelheaded. He had the most amazing accent and beautiful brown eyes.

I want them. I want them so bad.

I don't know how to ask though.

So I’ll just stay in my hut and get myself off while pretending it's enough but knowing deep down that it isn't.

With my hands between my legs, I slipped a finger into myself. Closing my eyes, I imagined both of them taking me. Trading holes, filling me up, taking control.

“Fuck, Newt,”I moaned as I imagined it was his cock inside of me. Rubbing my thighs together, I then saw Minho’s face. He was rougher. Way rougher but still so good. “Minho, fuck, Minho,”I whimpered, arching my back. Taking my other hand, I started rubbing circles on my clit. “You both feel so good. You're so big,”I kept going. As I was right there, the pleasure just stopped. With a frustrated groan, I pulled my hands out my pants.

I needed the real thing. My god, I needed them.

Deciding to say fuck it, I just walked out to the bonfire. Finding both of them sitting together, I didn't even think about it. I was too horny. I had been needing this for far too long.

Walking over, I kneeled in front of them.

“Hey Y/N.”

“Do you both want to fuck me?”

Coughing on his drink, Newt wiped his lips as he looked at me.

“Are you serious?”Minho asked slowly.

“Yes. I want you both to take me. Both of you. Do whatever you want. Just as long as you fuck me.”

“Both of us?”

“Yes. Both of you,”I repeated.

Glancing at each other, then me, they both hesitated for a moment. Sighing, I looked around. When I saw that we were far enough away, I sat beside them. Taking my hands, I slid them into their jeans. Groaning, they threw their heads back as they grew hard. Stroking the head of their cocks, I circled their tips. Letting out small noises, their breathing got faster at my touch. Starting to pump then, I slid my hands up and down their dicks. Panting, they pushed themselves deeper into my hands. Going faster, I kept getting them off. Twitching, they seemed perfectly in synch. Going from tip to base, I felt then twitch before they came on my hand.

“Fuck. That was good,”Newt drew out. Undoing his zipper, I pulled his pants and boxers off. Laying my head on his lap, I put him in my mouth. Grabbing my hair, he kept me perfectly hidden. Bobbing my head, I hummed around him. Moaning my name, he tugged on my hair. Moaning around him, I kept going, pushing his tip to the back of my throat. With another groan, he came.

Swallowing, I then pulled my head up.

“If you want more, you can have it,”I promised. Pulling his pants up, Newt grabbed my hand. Taking my other one, they kept me in their grip as we made our way to my hut.

Slamming my door shut, Minho instantly pushed his mouth against mine. Undoing his belt, I frantically pulled his pants off. Forcing my shorts down, he held my face with his hands as he deepened it. Unbuttoning his shirt, I threw it on the ground before pulling away to take mine off.

The second I did Newt grabbed me and pulled me to my bed. With his lips against mine, he slipped his tongue into my mouth as he undid my bra. Pulling his pants back off, I disconnected our lips to pull off his shirt. The second I did Minho laid me on my back with his clothes already off. Straddling me, he took off my bra and looked at me for consent. The second I nodded he slammed into me, making me yell out in pain. Holding still, he waited for me to adjust despite the way he wanted to fuck me senseless. To be fair, I wanted to be fucked senseless too. I just needed a moment.

As he stretched me out enough for it to be comfortable I told him to go. Thrusting into me, he was quick and just as rough as I imagined. My bed creeked under me as he held my wrists beside my head. Mindlessly fucking me, he grunted at each thrust. Moaning, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed him deeper. “So tight,”He groaned, going faster. Clenching around him, as I was right there he pulled out.

“I didn't get to take your mouth.”

Nodding in agreement, I adjusted my spot on the bed as I stuck my tongue out for him. Glancing at Newt, they had some secret agreement as he sat on my chest. Staying above my face, they waited for me to say it was okay, which I instantly agreed on.

Minho pushed himself past my lips as Newt rubbed his cock between my chest. Choking on him, I gagged as his tip hit the back of my throat. Taking my hair, he pulled me up into him, making me moan. Groaning, Newt started grinding faster. Taking my hands, I helped get him off as he was still taking my tits. Minho twitched inside of my mouth, making me gag. Pumping him faster, I closed my eyes as he twitched in my hand. Still tangling his hands in my hair, he pulled me into him. Sucking in my cheeks, I trailed my tongue all over his sides. Twitching inside of my mouth, he groaned as he shot his thick seed down my throat. Gagging, I felt it fill my cheeks. Swallowing, I waited for him to pull out.

“Not yet. I haven't cum,”Newt grunted. Listening, he held himself there. Pumping faster, I squirmed as I kept gagging. Still pulling my hair, he kept tangling it as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Grinding against my chest, Newt came. As his white liquids dripped on my skin Minho pulled out of my face.

“Stay there. We're trading spots,”Minho explained. Nodding my head, I kept my mouth open. Straddling my chest, he took my hands and kept them at my sides. “I go at my own pace,”He said simply. Putting his cock by my lips, Newt lowered himself into my mouth. Using my chest, Minho grinded against my skin. Newt shoved himself into my mouth, making me gasp. Ignoring it, he kept pulling out and slamming in. Minho grinded quickly, grabbing my chest and keeping my tits between his cock. Taking me, Newt bounced on my face, groaning each time he touched the back of my throat. Firmly keeping my lips around him, I bobbed my head up and down from the pillow. “Good girl. Just like that,”He praised. Growing wetter between my thighs, I started rubbing my legs together. Going faster, Minho squeezed my nipples, making me moan around Newt. Groaning at the vibrations, he sang more praises. Taking my hands, I plunged two fingers inside of me, causing me to arch my back. With my eyes rolling to the back of my head, the knot in my core got worse and worse. “Gonna cum,”Minho groaned as he squeezed my nipples a little tighter. Without warning Newt released into my mouth. Still grinding on me, Minho let his white liquids go on my chest. Arching my back, I let my eyes roll to the back of my head as I climaxed too while also swallowing.

Pulling out, they both looked at me. Before I could react, Minho grabbed my waist. Pushing me against the wall, he placed his dick by my soaked entrance.

“Can I?”

“Yes. You ca-”

Before I could finish my sentence he slammed into me. Yelping in surprise, I groaned as my back hit the wall. Grabbing my ass, he wrapped my legs around him and smashed his lips against mine. Moaning into his mouth, I felt my body shake. Thrusting faster, he was ruthless with me. Absolutely pleasurable and ruthless and every kind of good feeling there is.

Clenching around him, I buried my head in his neck as I wrapped my hands around his muscular back. Groaning my name, he kept his pace as he squeezed my ass. Biting down on his shoulder to stifle a scream, I heard him grunt as he kept going. Digging my nails into his skin, my legs threatened to give out as the pressure in my stomach came back. Pulling out and pushing into me, he twitched inside of me. Unable to see anything, I just let my eyes shut and the feeling overtake me.

“You're so fucking good at this,”He groaned as he twitched inside of me. Tightening around him, I threw my head back as my breathing got heavier and heavier. Taking the opportunity, he started sucking on my nipples. Climaxing at the unexpected action, I released all over his cock. Groaning again, he shoved himself into me. Gripping my waist, he let his warm liquids fill my insides until we were dripping down my thighs and his stomach.

“Can I do it again?”He asked when I caught my breath. Surprised but happy with his stamina, I eagerly nodded my head.

Taking my answer, he dropped me from his waist and pinned my arms above my head. Sliding his cock out for a moment, he slid back into me, making me whimper at overstimulation. With slower thrusts, he kissed and sucked on my neck, leaving dark marks.

“Minho. Oh god, Minho,”I moaned. Going a little faster, he kept pressing his chest completely against mine. Pushing my hips forward, I took him deeper. Sucking harder on my skin, he then connected our lips. Tightening his grip on my wrists that he still held captive above my head, he kept that same pace. As he tried to put his tongue in my mouth I teased him as I kept it close. Removing one of his hands, he pushed it against my clit and rubbed small shapes, making me gasp. Taking advantage, he grazed his tongue over mine. Shaking in pleasure, I tightened around him. Twitching inside of me, he fought for dominance in my mouth. Barely able to keep up, I groaned as he won. Pulling away, he left a string of saliva connected our mouths. Absentmindedly wearing a dazed smile at the feeling, I rested my head on his shoulder as I came again. Slowly thrusting into me, he did the same.

Staying there, he let me catch my breath for a moment before easily picking me up with our liquids still slick between our thighs. Taking me to the bed, he laid me down. Straddling me, Newt asked if I was okay.

“More than okay,”I assured him through heavy breaths.

Nodding at my answer, he slowly slid into me. Throwing my head back, I moaned as he held me down by my shoulders. “Good job, love. You're doing so good,”He praised, making me bite my lip to hold in my noises. “Come on, love. Let me hear those pretty sounds,”He urged, gradually speeding out. Letting out moans, I twisted the sheets with my hands. Thrusting faster, he kept singing soft praises, turning me on more. Practically seeing stars, I let out more whimpers as he kept his long, even thrusts. Feeling the knot in my core come back, I couldn't help but drag my nails down his back. Grunting at the feeling, he sped up. “Newt. I’m gonna-”

Before I could finish my sentence we released at the same time. I now had both their liquids inside of me. It was an absolute dream that I would be absolutely pissed to wake up from.

I know this is real though. It feels way too good to just be another dream.

“Again?”He suggested. Nodding my head, he started pulling out and pushing in. Pressing his chest against mine, he left love bites all over my neck and chest. Closing my eyes, I let the bliss travel through my body as I couldn't even moan. I just kept arching my back and taking it. And god, was it good to take. Finally, finally, finally, I had the release I could never quite get. I had spent so long feeling unsatisfied only for what I needed to be in front of my face everyday. And it was so much better than I imagined. The praises and the asking and the positions and the everything. Holy fuck, this is everything.

“Gonna cum for you,”I got out. Twitching inside of me, he kept his even pace. With another thrust, we both did that.

Pulling out, he started pumping himself. Laying there, I watched as he started dripping onto my skin. Staying still, I let him cum on my stomach and thighs. When he was satisfied he kissed me, told me I felt good, and got off.

“Can you take more?”Minho asked. When I nodded he pulled me up and bent me over the bed. Placing himself by my entrance, he carelessly slammed into me. Dropping my head, I groaned at the feeling. Pulling out and pushing in, he only got rougher. Burying my face in the mattress, I twisted the sheets in my hand as I screamed his name.

“That's right. Just like that,”He grunted, pulling my hair so my face was out of the mattress.

“Minho! Oh god! Minho! I’m gonna cum!”I screamed, not caring who heard. Besides, they were all so far away. The most they could get was muffled sounds, but even if they couldn't, I don't care. This feels too good.

Slamming into me, he went at an inuman pace. Leaning on my stomach so I wouldn't fall over, Minho let go so I could rest my cheek on the bed. Shutting my eyes, I groaned as he took me. Going rougher, he pushed my body against the bed. Twitching inside of me, he grabbed my hips. With the knot in my core returning, I let go.

Not finished with me, he kept his harsh thrusts. Unable to move, I groaned as I buried my face back in the mattress. With one last slam his warm liquids were falling down my thighs.

“Do you want to stop now?”Newt asked.

“No,”I got out.

“Then come on, love,”Newt urged. Getting on the bed, I got on my hands and knees when he told me to. Getting behind me, he slowly slid into me. Burying my head in the pillow, I whimpered each time he pushed inside of me. Palming my breast, he played with my tits while he kept going. Breathing heavier, I found myself shaking as I was reaching another orgasm. Going at a gentle pace, he whispered sweet words that my brain couldn't actually register. Twitching inside of me, he kept his hold on my breasts as I came. Giving me another thrust, his white liquids filled me up.

As he pulled out I managed to flip on my back. Sitting against the headboard, I spread my legs for them to see. Taking my hand, I started getting myself off, moaning their names. Showing them what I would do before this, I kept saying how good they felt as I fucked myself. Opening my eyes, I saw them both intensely staring at my face before looking at my dripping cunt. The lust in their eyes made me cum instantly.

Taking my legs, they pulled me down and spread them. Newt started licking me, flicking his tongue against my clit. Minho watched, licking his lips in anticipation. Tangling my hands in his hair, I pushed Newt further into me. Flicking his tongue against my clit, he easily thrust two fingers into me. Shaking, I squirmed as he curled them. Humming against my clit, he sent vibrations up my spine. Shivering, I clutched his blonde locks at the need to hold something. Humming again, he made me cum. Keeping his mouth open, he took his fingers out before swirling it inside of me. Squirming more, I kept shivering. Taking my legs, he had to hold my ankles on the bed so he could actually get everything. Pushing my hips up, I shut my eyes again as he started licking sloppy stripes up me. He wasn't just cleaning me juices. He was going to make me cum again.

Pressing his face into me, he kept kissing and sucking on my clit. Letting out short breaths, I came all over his face.

Pulling out, he licked around his lips before crawling on top of me. Kissing me, he slipped his tongue into my mouth. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I kept kissing him. Placing his hands behind my head, he deepened it.

That's when Minho started plunging his tongue into me, taking me by surprise. Before I could move he took my thighs and wrapped them around his head. Newt just kept his lips against mine. Moaning into his mouth, I shook as Minho moaned inside of me. Digging my nails into his skin, I kept my mouth against Newt’s.

Pulling away, he started trailing kisses down my jaw. Closing my eyes at the pleasure, I moaned as he sucked on the side of my neck.

Swirling his tongue around, Minho kept eating me out. When I let out a shaky moan Newt bit down on my shoulder, pushing me over the edge.

Laying there, I caught my breath as Minho let my legs drop from around him. With black dots clouding my vision, I felt the sweat dripping down my body.

“That was the best night of my life,”I said through heavy breaths.

“No it wasn't, princess,”Minho insisted, making me shiver at the new name.

“Because next time, we’re not holding back,”Newt finished.

“Well, can next time be now then?”I suggested.

“That depends. Do you think you can actually take it?”

“Why don't you find out?”I smirked.

Grabbing me, Minho flipped me over so I was straddling him. Before I could react he thust into me. With tears of overstimulation in my eyes, I let out strangled moans as I bounced on his cock. Grabbing my thighs, he kept my legs spread at his waist. Going faster, I screamed his name as the sensitivity became so extreme every part of me shook. Biting my lip, I shut my eyes as I released. Doing the same, he quickly pulled out and flipped me over on top of Newt.

Grabbing my waist, he pushed me onto him. Grunting, he kept going. Physically unable to stop, I just kept cumming. Unbothered by it, he kept fucking me while moaning my name. Dropping my head, tears of pleasure poured down my cheeks. Going faster, as I came again he filled me up.

Grabbing me, he pushed me on my hands and knees. Tangling his hands in my hair, Minho pushed into my ass, making me shriek at the new feeling. Taking his finger, he plunged it into me. Shaking, I could barely hold myself up. Grinding his palm against my clit, he twitched inside of my other hole. Clenching around his hand, I dropped my head as I came. Pulling out, he then pushed into me but kept still. Even his hands stayed where they were.

Whimpering, I moved myself closer to him. Grabbing my hair with his free hand, he pulled it as he started thrusting into me faster. Mumbling incoherent things, as he added another finger into me I came. Shoving himself into my ass, he did the same.

Taking my body, he pushed me back into Newt. All the slick liquids made me slide onto his dick. Falling on top of him, I kept my chest against his as I laced our fingers together. Rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles, he sang soft praises as he kissed my neck. With both of us moving at a slow synch, I buried my face in his chest as we released again.

As I got off he put me on top of Minho. Doing the same, I rested my head in the crook of his neck. Cradling my head with his hands, he held me as he was more gentle than I could ever imagine. Whispering sweet words, he grabbed my waist and rubbed circles on my skin. With both of us thrusting one last time, we released.

Taking me, he flipped me on my back. Straddling me, Newt asked if I needed or wanted to stop. When I said no he pushed into me. Pressing his chest against mine, he kept kissing my collarbone as he pulled out and pushed in. Arching my back, I grabbed his shoulders and held him closer. With a final penetration he came.

I didn't, but before I could say anything he glanced at Minho. Realizing what was happening, I stayed in that position. Sliding into me, Minho buried his head in my chest as he kept taking me. Being softer, he whispered that I was doing so well. At the nice praise, I held onto him as I came. Doing the same, he then stayed there. With both of us riding out our highs, we just kept breathing heavily. When it was just barely better, we were finally able to move again.

As he pulled out he laid on top of me. Pressing soft kisses to my chest, he just laid on top of me like he hadn't help fuck my brains out. Turning my head as I wondered why he stopped, I got my answer when there was sunshine through my window.

“Holy shit,”I groaned, getting up. The second I tried to stand I was about to fall to the floor only for Newt to catch me. Picking me up, he cradled me to his chest before laying me down.

“No work for you today, love,”He whispered, kissing my temple.

“Us either. After all, we have to take care of our girl,”Minho added. Smiling at the name, I let my eyes shut as I still couldn't move. Laying beside me, they kept pressing soft kisses to my skin, making me shiver. Wrapping their strong arms around me, they made it quite clear that whatever I felt, they did too.

I don't care what we are. I don't care about labels. All that matters is that I just got everything I’ve ever wanted and more.

[bunnyreaper]

john price helping you renovate the house you just bought--he insists on helping you, whenever the two of you aren't deployed. 

(hcs + drabble, f!reader, mild 18+)

he knows the whole thing would go faster if he just invited the lads, but he wants the alone time with you even if he won't admit it. if you offer to ask them along too, he just assures you  that you can handle it between the two of you.)

thrives when you ask for his input on decorating the place, and he loves when you ask him to tag along to stores with you. he makes sure the DIY store guys don't underestimate you, ensures all the bathroom fittings will actually fit, gives you the best opinions on the paints you pick. never corrects any of the store owners when they assume you're a couple.

puts on an extra show when destroying or ripping down things. when you ask him to help you take down one of the false walls, he goes out of his way to let out extra little grunts and groans of effort, and flexes because he knows you're watching (and he hopes you're enjoying the show.) 

takes off his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his neck and face, doesn't bother putting it back on, leaving his hairy chest bare and the room full of the scent of his musk. a part of you secretly wishes he'd forget and leave it behind one day.

he catches you staring and smirking when he tucks a pencil behind his ear and looks like dad, gives you a wink. (and you definitely don't think about what it would be like if he knocked you up, and you were doing this all over again to decorate your kids nursery.)

as things come together, your mind starts to drift to what it would be like to christen even room in the house with john--fucking on the kitchen island, in the garden, by the fireplace, in the bedrooms. 

tries to do everything he can so you don't have to spend over the odds on tradesmen, or deal with strange men in your house, but he decides to leave the electrics alone after he gives himself a mild shock and you almost cry with worry. 

the two of you spend many a late night together, sat on a blanket eating pizza and drinking, with only each other's conversation for company--making memories you both treasure. 

"Probably should've put my shirt back on, I'm absolutely covered." John laughs, taking a glance down at his paint-splattered, sweat-sheened chest. 

Your eyes follow his, feeling like this is an invitation to stare uninhibited for once. The two of you have been painting for a while already, the room is insufferably hot in the summer even with the windows open--hence why John is taunting you with his figure. 

"You look like you've been down the pit." You gesture at the black specks littering his skin, and the smears all over his hands, his jeans, everywhere. John is sheer finesse in everything he does, besides painting and decorating, apparently. "But I'm not complaining about the shirtlessness."

The tension between the two of you has been escalating, and you feel brave enough to flirt just a little. From the smirk on John's face, he clearly doesn't have an issue with it. 

"Is that right?" He raises a brow, pausing his painting to turn to you with a burning, heavy look. 

Under the intensity of his gaze, you try to play it off just a little, because holy shit, he looks like he's going to eat you alive right now. "Every woman's dream, drooling over a shirtless tradie." You shrug, showing a pretense of apathy.

John now sets down his roller, his hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans as he seems to be proudly displaying himself--his broad shoulders, rounded pecs and sculpted stomach that is the perfect mix of muscle and fat. 

You have to try not to openly drool as your eyes move down his happy trail. "Is that why you asked me to help?" 

"Asked you!?" You gasp, completely taken aback. "John, you insisted!" 

"You shouldn't be doing all this on your own, love." His posture relaxes as his smile turns earnest. 

You can't help but shake your head, thinking about how you could've had Gaz, Soap, and Ghost helping here too. "We could've had an army, literally." 

"Getting by fine just the two of us, aren't we?" 

"I don't know." You take a step forward as you notice a glob of black paint on John's face. "Your beard is covered too, by the way." 

Your hand finds its way to John's face with ease, forgetting any hesitation you should have about getting tactile with the man you have a forbidden attraction to. Instinct causes you to try and swipe the paint away, but your hands are already covered too. 

"Fuck." The paint is smeared over more of him than before--a black handprint on his neck where you'd held him still while you fussed. 

"What?" His forehead wrinkles, and you can feel his eyes on you as you try to make it better, but fail. 

"Made it worse..." You admit.

John only chuckles, his own paint covered hands finding their way to your cheeks, smearing you with matching globs of tar black.

His heated gaze is closer, his eyes flickering to your lips for a brief moment before he leans in and presses his to yours. 

It's searing, but over in a flash, as John's grin turns wicked and you try to continue standing upright. You're not sure if he's more pleased at the kiss, or the fact that his beard has covered you in even more stains of paint.

"Sorry." He mutters, yet he doesn't seem sorry in the slightest. His hands don't leave your face, and he leans in for another peck as he mumbles against your lips. "Only fair, love."

[browsing-and-anon-asking]

Hellooo first post

I was embarrassingly, watching back on one of my fav mlp redesigns videos and was like 'hey that would be cool... but with Fallout characters!!

Piper:

As you can see, I didn't mm change much. (Thank you Piper for your hate being easy to draw) However I assumed she's hot as fuck in all those layers and since she rarely goes out into the wastes, I thought of lessening the amount of clothing. Giving her a plain undershirt and jeans, her famous pretty jacket that has a 'closely matched' patch of cloth over one of the bigger holes in it. Also, all of her buttons are gone. So she has to have a belt to close her coat!

I also put her hair up bc I think she looks nice like that! Maid her hair a lil curly.

Gave her those belt bags to add on the 'women's clothes never have pockets' thing.

Gave her make up, since most reports before her wore it for charisma, I assume she picked that up.

Nail polish, I just think she'd like it to hide her dirty fingernails

Only does small smiles to hide her missing back teeth

Cait:

I changed a lot about her, bc honest!! I hated most of her design elements.

I forgot to put on her pit paint, so imagine this after going eirh sole survivor.

Took away her corset. Because I HATE that they would put a female cage fighter in ANOTHER unrealistic outfit. Let this woman breathe. Also, I made her tank top greasy because yes.

Made her more muscular, with more scars to show off. She's SO COOL!!!

Shortened her hair because hair is a BIG thing to grab in fights, and she's probably annoyed with how much people try to go for that. So she hacked it off! She did it herself!

I made her eyes a bit more detailed than the others to show off the drug abuse and trauma it left behind. It's not a lot, but it's a little detail, along with the needle holes in her arm.

So many missing teeth, and she's proud with a lisp.

Preston:

I love this man so much shut up.

Bethesda, let people of color have their hair! And have it be matted bc this man is too depressed to take care of himself instead of others

Made him less muscular and more on the skinnier side bc depression

Eyebags bc... depression.

I like his og coat, but again, so many layers are hard to run in, so I kept it to a minimum, like with Piper. His scarf, undershirt, slacks, and coat.

Give him more facial hair bc let that man actually look depressed bro.

Gave him earnings bc it just looks pretty on him. Small face scars he's clearly ashamed of and has tried to hide with makeup.

I mean, every word I said beside his head, they could change each other. For the better or worse

Thanks for reading! I'm gonna do a poll of other compainions to see which three I should do next :3

[lovelaetter]

⠀— hii just wanted to come on here and share my thoughts on soojin because she's just so adorable☹️

thinking about how soojin & mean housemate!reader :(( poor girl always feels like she’s walking on eggshells when you’re around , doing her best to not piss you off ‘cause the last time she did that (accidentally breaking a glass cup or something), you ended up yelling at her like no tomorrow, raising your voice to the point she felt tears start to form in her eyes :(

but even though you scare her so bad she just can’t help but feel hot around your presence, it confuses her so bad because she doesn’t know whether or not she wants to scurry back into her room or just get on her knees in front of you😞

adding onto that; fuck girl!reader who brings girls over to their place every other day, it’s a nightmare for soojin since you don’t bother to muffle any noises that they make—the thin walls making it even harder for her to ignore what was happening since all she could hear is them moaning your name :( she wants to knock on your door, ask if you could tone it down a bit but she’s just too scared to—well, that and also the fact that it just gets her so wet!

babygirl feels so conflicted; she’s annoyed and restless, but at the same she’s so turned on, wondering what it’d be like to be in positions with those other girls—having you fuck her brains out until she’s a crying and blabbering mess ☹️

(this is such a mess but anyway— have a nice day!)

– 🦕

DUBCON (INTOXICATION)

it’s funny how i read something and go “hm, how can I make this worse?”… so hear me out: intoxication, drunk!soojin.

you are mean to her and you know that, obviously, but the fact that she put up with your shit does intrigues you and makes you so fucking interested in her somehow, like, this easy? pretty baby sticking around even with you mistreating her like that? there has to be something going on with her, she is the perfect plaything for you. and you want to fuck her, so bad, has to hold back from taking her by that delicate neck of hers so many times when she pisses you off, but you want her to beg, break down and cry for you to take her like you do to the girls you bring over, you want a reason to humiliate her just a little more, look in her pretty eyes and make her cry saying you didn’t know she was such a slut.

things getting a little out of control when you throw a party and your eyes find her, drinking and chatting with a few, an idea coming to your mind and in a blink she is under your arm, eyes shining looking at you and so confused and you’re being so… nice? and offering her a drink and another and another and another, until she is leaning completely onto you, movements sloppy, eyes heavy, warm breath against your neck and laughing at the way your hands run over her body, sliding under her top and feeling her tits.

poor baby, doesn’t complain even when you take her top off, only muttering a whiny “nooo” but not moving to hide herself. there’s a lot of people, not everyone sees, but some do throw you a few glances, i mean, everybody that knows you, knows your roommate, so seeing her in your arms drunk like that only in bra and pants? it’s something. your hand resting on her belly, just above the button of her jeans, whispering “you want me to fuck you here, in front of everyone?” and it’s as if she comes back to reality briefly, looking around, at you and shaking her head, lips wobbling and tears in her eyes as you laugh and call her a whore.

doesn’t matter, though, you want that pussy and you’re getting it, easily. taking her to your bedroom because despite everything you are not letting others be cruel to her, she is yours to hurt. i can see her repeating over and over that she is not a whore while you’re undoing her jeans, shutting up only when you grab her face forcefully to look at you and your other hand finds her slit. you could do nothing, just let your hand there, she would be a moaning mess, so loud, bucking her hips and getting your palm sticky.

you can do what you want with her body, all night. slurp on her puffy cunt until she creams all over your face, stuff her full and hold her down as she squirms and screams because it’s too much, mark her up, grab her by the hair and ride her face until you cum and more just to get her messy, it’s your call. and when she wakes up next morning with your taste in her mouth and her hole aching, ass red from your handprints, you asleep by her side, she doesn’t know if she screams, if she cries, if she wakes you up— but i don’t think she would complain that much if you decided to deal with her panic by tossing her around a little.

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: As requested by my followers, here’s my bday special yakuza!Suna smut! (It sounds like a dish lmao, also happy bday to 25 year old me yay) The characters are like in their mid-twenties! P.S. I had way too many ideas for writing this, so I am gonna divide it into two parts :'D

Warnings: non-explicit sexual content, cursing, enemies to lovers trope, mentions of sex

You absolutely despise him.

He’s an infuriating, stupidly attractive, arrogant jerk.

Even his name leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

Rintarō Suna. 

Henchman of ruthless yakuza boss Shinsuke Kita, he is a highly intelligent strategist with rather unfortunate good looks that could make any girl swoon as soon as he looked their way. 

Too bad for all the females that Suna doesn’t do relationships, only fucking with no strings attached. 

He’s the only one in the group who brings company back to his room, claiming he has 'needs' and it’s a good stress relief.

You couldn’t care less, it’s not like you have a thing for Suna. 

He uses women and throws them away like paper, his body count is probably higher than the Spanish flu. 

You’re walking down the dimly-lit hallway, passing by an expensive painting towards his room.

When you get closer, you hear the sound of a moaning woman, along with the constant creaking of a bed. 

Immediately, your stomach twists in a weird way and you take deep breaths before hammering your fist against his door.

You hear a startled yelp of the woman and thankfully the creaking stops.

"What?!" Suna snaps loudly from inside his room.

"Suna, get your ass out of there. Kita called for a meeting 20 minutes ago. Send your visitor home and get a move on!" You yell back in frustration.

You wait for about seven minutes before the door opens, and a bright red-headed woman emerges from the room, hair all tousled up with cheeks colored almost as red as her hair.

She is unmistakably beautiful, you unfortunately have to admit. 

She looks a little bit guilty when she looks at you, not saying a word as she brushes past you in a hurry to leave. 

When you look back inside Suna’s room, the air smells heavy with sex and frustration from Suna's side, not exactly happy that you interrupted his hook-up session.

"You know, you’re such a manwhore." You say, with a voice full of anger and jealousy, after the woman has left.

"And proud of it sweetheart." Suna begins to pull up his discarded boxers and black jeans again, turning away from you, so his broad muscled back faces you.

Along with lots of scars of fights he has been in, his massive tattoo always amazes you.

It’s two giant vipers entangled with each other, mouths open so fangs are on display. At the bottom of the vipers, a red demon skull with a nasty snarl is staring right into the viewers face. Along on top of the skull are two horns, looking like they grew out of the skull. Two arrows go through the vipers, not hurting them but so the reptiles curl around them. It represents deceptive authority. 

"Enjoying the view?" Suna's teasing tone rips you out of your daydream.

"You wish. Kita has called us into a meeting and you weren’t picking up your phone when Aran has tried to call you multiple times." You cross your arms in front of your chest as you watch him getting dressed. 

Pulling his discarded maroon hoodie over his upper body, he faces you again with his usual bored expression. Aka what you call his resting-bitch-face.

"Let’s go fuckboy. Kita is waiting for us and with every damn second I spend waiting for you, he grows more agitated. Ever since his girl has left him, he’s been more moody, impatient and impulsive than usual." In the last part of your sentence, you drop the volume of your voice. 

Suna finally finishes putting on his sneakers and steps out of his room to lock the door and follow you to the conference room.

"I can’t understand how you can have sex with someone who screams so loud, I’d probably get my eardrums busted if my partner screamed so loud." You start the conversation.

"Think you sound better?" Suna grins at you with those beautiful dark emerald eyes of his, while still walking beside you to the conference room.

"I KNOW I sound better! At least I don’t scream like a cat in heat when I orgasm." You huff and fast the pace in your steps.

"I don’t care how loud they are, as long as I can fuck them and they leave, I could give less a shit." The brunette fastens his steps, so he is walking next to you again, making your shoulder brush with his side occasionally.

Silence from your side for a few seconds before Suna starts talking again.

"By the way. Why are you so uptight? Haven’t had a good fuck in a while?" He taunts you as he leans closer to your face.

You ignore his comment, finally arriving at the conference room.

When you open the door, you see Kita leaning his head against his propped up fist on his table and at the sound of the door opening, his brown eyes snap towards you. 

His eyes are very cold and it gives you shivers every time you look at him.

Suna shortly follows after you and without any acknowledgment to his boss, he sits in the seat next to Osamu. 

"Finally." Kita sighs and leans back in his chair. Finally all of the Inarizaki members have arrived, sitting at the long white-gray marble table, with Kita sitting at the head of the table. 

The last unoccupied chair was next to Riseki, who gives you a small smile as you sit down next to him.

Kita stands up and walks around a little bit, starting to talk.

"The reason why I called you all in here is because Inarizaki will soon expand its territory. With Shiratorizawa and Nohebi gone, all that is left is Karasuno and Itachiyama." Some of the members listen intently to him, others like Suna pulling out his phone, typing on it with a bored expression.

"So what are we going to do about them?" Aran asks from Riseki's left side. 

"I had a talk with Iizuna last night. We have come to a mutual agreement of joining forces together." Kita answers, stopping at the window to look outside.

"What? Ya serious?! Those snobby bastards only care for their own fuckin' profit!" Atsumu sneers madly.

Kita looks at Atsumu through his peripheral vision briefly before returning his gaze back outside.

"I know that some of you may have a problem with that, but Karasuno has gotten too much power in the last two years. Sawamura is stealing most of our customers away and by joining forces together with Itachiyama, we will be able to take over half of Japan, soon maybe the whole of Japan. Eliminate them one by one, pray you do not disappoint me.”

“What about their newest product ‘Spikedopamine’? I heard that’s the newest shit in town. Is that why our sales have dropped so much?” Akagi states, who sits on your right.

Ginjima and Atsumu who sit across from you, start laughing hysterically at the name that they chose for the newest drug they produced. The name-founder Kageyama used to play volleyball back in high school, where most of the crows have met and formed their group. 

“That’s the stupidest name I ever heard!” Atsumu manages to say while getting tears in his eyes.

Ginjima and Atsumu keep on laughing until Omimi shoots them a sharp glare, while Kita looks at them with an undefined expression.

Ginjima immediately stops, while Atsumu’s laugh turns into a nervous chuckle, stopping after a while as well.

It’s quiet for a while before Kita starts to speak again.

“I will divide you into teams and you will all work together with Itachiyama. Iizuna and I already made the teams.”

Kita walks back to his chair to sit down and reaches for the few folders that Aran has slid over to his boss.

“Team 1, the Surveillance Team. Osamu, you will go with Akagi, Kosaku, Omimi and Komori from Itachiyama. He’s a black-hat hacker, he can help you hack into their security system and download important files, steal information and hack into their bank accounts.” 

The names of the men that were called begin to stand up, since Osamu sits on Kita’s left side at the head of the table, he grabs the folder that Kita has provided him.

“And Team 2, which will be the Assault Team, will consist of Atsumu, (Y/N), Suna and Sakusa from Itachiyama. He's a weapons specialist, expert interrogator and master strategist.” Kita slides the folder to you, since Suna is still on his phone, showing it to Atsumu, who grins mischievously at the screen. 

“Aran, Riseki and Ginjima, you stay here at headquarters, in case someone gets injured, you can take over. That will be all.” Kita, Aran, Riseki and Ginjima begin to get up to return to their rooms while you and your assigned team remain seated.

Well this is fucking great. 

You’re stuck with a psycho, a manwhore and an arrogant jackass for God knows how long, until you all bring the downfall for Karasuno.

[spacerockwriting]

For Keely

Happy Holidays from your secret santa!

@thepupperino

and a fic

Winter time was one of the worst times to be an EMT. Calls left and right from drunk patrons celebrating the holidays, kids falling on ice, and worst of all, DIY projects for the holidays. Not that Ian minded; he loved his job. He loved being able to make a difference in a way that helps the community. It gave him purpose, a reason to exist .

The day was going slower than normal, which was a surprise for the holiday season. But it made sense, it was a little too early for the drunk carolers, as it was for the office parties. Sue was chatting about gifts for her relatives, as Ian just sipped on his thermos of Fiona’s cocoa, nodding his head along with her chatter

Some shifts just seemed to drag, and so far, this was one of them. 

A call came over the walkie talkie, Sue nodding in response. “Incident at the Old Ukrainian church on Michigan, Saint Andrew’s, I think. Let’s go, Gallagher.” Ian follows his work partner into the ambulance, as she chats about the holidays and the romantic things her spouse has planned–as well as the not so romantic. “Who knows,” Sue chuckles. “Maybe one day you'll finally find someone. Can’t be hung up over that douche bag forever.”

“I’m not looking to date anyone. Not right now, anyways.”

“Gallagher,” Sue says, shaking her head.

The Church they pull into is old, historic. There’s a large archway for the entry , with stone steps leading up to the door. Stepping inside, Ian can hear  two men arguing loudly . One has messy blond hair that needs a wash and a brush, and the other..

Ian stops. The man’s wearing an old flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, a t-shirt underneath the flannel with dark ripped jeans. His dark hair is off his face, and even though he’s in pain, he has the bluest eyes Ian has ever seen.

“Over here!” A woman with a clipboard calls out. She’s waving over to where the hurt boy is on the ground. “We’re over here!” She shouts, louder this time, waving Ian over. Grabbing his kit, he kneels down to check on the handsome man with the dark hair.

“Iggy, that’s my fuckin’ leg.”

“Shit,” Iggy apologizes. “Sorry Mick.”

“Fucker, that’s my leg,” Mickey repeats.

“Can you stand?” Iggy asks, and Mickey grimaces again. “Fucker, again, that’s my fucking leg,” he repeats.

“Hi, I’m Ian,”He introduces himself to the raven haired.. Gently tapping and examining the dark haired man’s leg., he nodded, carefully removing the shoe. “So, we’re going to get you to the hospital. Could I have your name please, Sir?”

“It’s Mikhailo,” the messy blond boy teases, smirking at the raven haired.

“Mickey,” Mickey says. “Don’t listen to that fucker.”

“Okay, Mickey,” Ian says calmly. “We’re going to put you in the ambulance. Just hold tight.”

“I’ll ride,” Iggy states, and Mickey scoffs, suddenly remembering how he arrived at this.

“You’re the one that did this Fuckface.”

Ian pauses. “If this is some sort of assault case we’re going to have to get the police involved.”

“Nah, not assault, just my idiot brother not knowin’ how to do shit.”

“Fuck you! The board just fell!”

“Cause you fuckin’ dropped it!” He hisses back. “Shit—“ he adds, aching as they placed him on the gurney. “Fuck.”

“Hold still,” Ian commands. “We’ll get you there in a minute. In the meantime, is there anyone we can call? A spouse or…?” Ian notices that there’s no ring on his finger.

“Nah. No spouse, no boyfriend,” Mickey says, swallowing nervously at the last words. He hasn’t been out for long, but this whole living your truth thing he was advised to do rings in his head. He was trying, especially since his father was locked up again.

“Uh, me too,” Ian adds awkwardly. “Boyfriend that is. So uh, what were you doin’ at the church?” He asks, genuinely curious. He wonders if the guy is religious. Not that he’d mind, it’d just be an adjustment. After all, every so often his own father, Frank, went through little religious bouts. Ian can recall many times he had to be dragged to mass because Frank just decided it was what they did now. Then weeks later he’d be back to how he normally is.

“What’s it look like? Was helping with the nativity,” he adds, grimacing at the pain.

As Ian unloads Mickey from the gurney and places him in his room he gives the other a weak smile before going back to work. His heart flutters when he gives another once over at the man. --

The Chicago winter was cold. All Ian wanted to do was be bundled up with his sister’s famous hot cocoa and a blanket, watching holiday movies on TV. But, leave it to his siblings to leave him to do the errands. But, neglecting the errands Ian finds himself wandering to the very same church from that call he was on just a few weeks before.

The doors are unlocked as Ian heads inside, taking a peek at the people congregating. Standing in the back quietly, he watches as the others rehearse, catching a glimpse of the man who now has his leg in a cast. He’s sitting on a pew, leg propped up as he bosses around the others. As soon as he takes notice of Ian, he grabs the crutches and wobbles his way to the back of the church.

“Yeah?” 

“I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by. Y’know, check to see how your leg is doing.”

“S’alright. Fucker’s annoying. You always check in like this to your patients?” Mickey teases.

“Just the ones I like. So, uh, you like this sort of thing? The church an’ stuff.”

“That a pickup line, Red?”

Ian smirks. “Maybe.”

“Mm, well, not really, then.” Mickey shoves his hands into his pocket, trying to not fall over. “Community service. It ain’t picking trash up off the streets.”

“Are you in it?”

“Nah, just building shit. Well, was, until that fucker broke my leg.” He points over at a boy with shaggy hair. “Now I’m just supervisin’.”

Ian chuckles. “In that case, do you uh, wanna maybe grab a bite or something?”

“Like a date?”

“Uh, yeah, if you—“Ian looks down at his phone and sighs. Of course his siblings would interrupt this moment. Mickey quirks a brow. “Sorry, my brothers pestering me. I gotta—Sorry—“ As Ian turns around to head out the door, he curses his siblings.

Mickey follows him out the door, carefully maneuvering his crutches around the ice on the sidewalk. “You just gonna ask then leave?”

Ian feels the buzz from his phone once more, and this time he picks it up angrily. “What? Yes, Carl, tell Debs I got the milk. Fuck!” Ian hangs the phone up annoyed. “Sorry, I really gotta go but uh, here—You gotta pen?”

Mickey grabs at a marker placed behind his ear. “Might be dried out but eh.” He shrugs.

Grabbing the marker, Ian scratches down his information on the thigh area of Mickey’s cast. Call me-Ian followed by a number. Bending back up to hand the marker back, Ian’s eyes flick up to see the snow starting to fall.

“I should probably go back in,” Mickey says, gesturing to the cast on his leg. The snow was starting to fall harder, and Mickey didn’t want fuck up chances and have his cast get wet. Last thing he needed was to have to spend more time in a cast.

“Let me help.” He grabs the inside of Mickey’s arm, helping him back to the inside of the church. There’s tons of mistletoe planted around the church awnings, and while it could be easy to ignore, Ian isn’t one to ignore the tradition. 

Pausing, Ian takes a moment to glance into some of the brightest blue eyes he’s ever seen. The boy’s cheeks are reddening, and Ian wonders if its blush or from the cold, considering the boy just has on a tattered old hoodie. Gently stroking his cheek and glancing into his eyes, Ian presses his lips to the raven haired boy, surprised as the boy kisses him back. And it’s there, in some old Ukrainian church with lightly falling snow that Ian kisses the boy he swears he’s going to marry one day.

[artdcnaldson]

my former horseback rider ass is here with the switch!dodge mason agenda 🫡

so many fics about dodge teaching you about rodeoing and how to ride (which i fucking love don’t get me wrong hehe) but what about reader who also rides and competes? sort of enemies to lovers? maybe you’re a barrel racer and he’s a saddle bronc, so he likes to jab at your event and you jab at his.

although you’re not competing against each other directly, you see each other at basically every rodeo and have developed a wicked rivalry between you. truthfully, neither of you know how or why it started. you got along when you were younger, little kids stumbling around rings and playing in the dirt while your parents rode, but once you hit your teen years it was like a switch flipped. he started pulling on your pigtails and you were never gonna back down from that fight.

now, a few weeks post-graduation, you’re double checking your tack when in comes dodge fucking mason fresh off his bronc and still riding his adrenaline high.

“good luck out there with your little obstacle course,” he sneers at you.

“at least i’ll keep my braincells in tact instead of losing them all getting bucked off… or wait, you didn’t have any to begin with did you?” you roll your eyes.

you almost miss the way dodge’s eye twitches and his jaw clicks. maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe whatever back and forth you two have been doing has just finally reached its breaking point. suddenly, he’s pulling you into the empty stall next to yours and crowding you against the wall. he grips your jaw and forces your eyes to meet his.

“you think you’re smarter than me, huh? you think you’re so slick, but i see the way you look at me. you’re as fucked up for me as i am for you.”

the dam breaks. his lips are on yours and his hands are everywhere, one grabbing your ass, the other snaking under your shirt. you’re returning his fervor with your own because as much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. you have been looking, you have been simmering every time he’s put his goddamn hat on some buckle bunny who doesn’t even know what a bridle is.

the hand on your ass moves to tease at the waistband of your jeans. ever the infuriating gentleman, he’s asking for permission. you grind your hips forward and he takes the hint, shoving his hand into your panties.

“fuck— already so wet for me, baby,” he breathes into your neck, where he’s been laving open mouthed kisses that make your head spin. you let your head thump against the wall behind you and moan as his fingers find your clit. he thinks he has you under his thumb, and in a way he does, but you’re not letting him win.

in an instant, you’re pushing forward and his back is hitting the wall on the other side of the stall. his eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

“aw dodge, you’re all fucked up for me?” you grin, gripping his now straining cock through his jeans and giving it a harsh squeeze. “you know what i think? i think you’re just like your broncs out there. i think you just need a good ride to calm you the fuck down.”

he’s panting now, the shift in his demeanor so clear and desperation suddenly written all over his face. he nods his head and a whimper escapes his lips. his big wet eyes search your face and you’re already unbuckling his belt, but you pause and raise a prompting eyebrow at him.

“i’ll— i’ll be good,” he whines. “i’ll be good for you, i fucking swear, just touch me, please touch me”

your grin widens, “see? was that so hard?”

oop this got so long but i need to put him in his place and have him put me in mine after ,,, sighhh power struggles <333

-🎀

i think you just need a good ride to calm you the fuck down

What if I just fucking DIED

sighhhhh dodge mason fucking around with pretty little thing that gives him attention at the rodeo. And you saw it, one time. The way he lead some skanky white trash girl into the backseat of his car. Shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did, but you watched him peel off the stupid, tight shirt she wore, mouth at her tits, grab her ass through her tight jeans with the bedazzled pockets.

You scoffed. Of fucking course that’s what he liked. Bimbos playing cowgirl Barbie.

And it’s fucking infuriating because he’s good. It would be easier if he had fumbling hands and couldn’t find your clit and didn’t set every single nerve of yours alight. But you’re aching for it— while he shoved you against the wall in the empty stall and rubbed at your clit, mouth searing and hungry against yours.

But you can’t let him have you that easy. He needs to fucking work for it. You’re not one of the girls he takes to his car, fucks, and leaves out to dry— you’re the grand prize.

He’s hard through his jeans, straining against the thick fabric. He bucks against your hand as you palm him and mouth at his throat. You have to make him beg— make him ask for what he’s so freely given all the time. To be a good boy and prove he deserves it.

Need him to sink to his knees and eat you out, his hands on your ass, guiding you to grind against his mouth and face. Make him prove he can get a girl off before he gets to sink into you, to fuck you nice and rough the way you like <3

Walking out of the stall after pretending like nothing happened, like he didn’t just cum in your mouth and he can’t still taste you on his tongue. Like you won’t have bruises shaped like his fingers on your hips.