#this is a call to try an unconventional career

[dancesingay]

They always told us to dream of what we wanted to be/what job we wanted to have growing up, as if every adult has a dream career. I think there's value in that, but I think there's also value in being opportunistic.

[astrogre]

Astro observations 4

Lilith in Leo and Aries can have unconventional, rebellious hairstyles that stand out and perhaps aren’t considered what most say is beautiful but they do it for themselves e.g. a buzz cut, dying hair eccentric colours, having a flamboyant big hairstyle that others consider inappropriate to society

If you’re interested in being an actor, or ever wanted to know the roles you’d play best: look at the planets in your second house. They describe the kind of character you’d play well because 2H shows the skills and traits needed for us to make money. So if you were acting you’d get paid for showing the skills of the planets in your 2H in the role you’d get cast for. I’ve noticed actors who play roles that match their 2nd house planet become known, or most successful for it.

E.g Uranus 2H: Benedict Cumberbatch- Played as Sherlock holmes (role required themes of intellect, eccentricity, thinking outside of the box to be Sherlock) same with Dr Strange (very ironic because Uranus literally represents things that are weird).

Pluto 2H: playing as villains, morally questionable characters, surgeons, morticians, taxidermy artist, piercing artist, gang member, scaring people. Johnny depp has this placement and his most profitable roles were as Jack sparrow, Edward scissor hands, sweeny Todd, all to do with slicing using a sword scissors or a knife and immoral characters

I’ve noticed the fama asteroid doesn’t really depict the ‘good’ kind of fame, if you look into famous people’s charts, Fama tends aspect or to be in the house where they were in a scandal or something shameful.

E.g Kamala Harris has Pluto and Venus conjunct fama, she’s infamously accused of sleeping her way to power because her affair was made public

Ben Shapiro has his mercury conjunction fama, and I’m sure you know his views are not taken with the most respect. He gets harassed quite often for it.

Elon Musk has fama conjunct Uranus in 3rd house while he posts 4chan content and always is being called out for saying some ‘degenerate’ or ‘erratic’ opinion on Twitter.

Justin Bieber has Jupiter at 14 degrees conjunct the Fama asteroid in his 12th house—the house of hidden meanings and secrets. The degree, 14, aligns roughly with the age when he reportedly spent 48 hours with Diddy and was generously gifted a sportscar. He also got signed by Usher at 14 (Usher was Diddys mentee). Notably, this placement is in Scorpio, the sign associated with joint resources, power dynamics, and sex organs. Even now this remains a subject of gossip and speculation, with some suggesting that the generosity and “mentorship” (themes linked to Jupiter’s higher learning and expansion) from Diddy played a pivotal role in jumpstarting Bieber’s career, particularly in relation to the music industry’s power structures. Another thing to note is that he flew abroad from Canada to USA for this to happen to him which lead to him getting famous. (Jupiter represents foreign relations)

Fama is more of a humiliating but entertaining ‘tea’ placement. And not everyone wants to become a controversial kind of famous, some people may want to become famous for their talents and their contributions to the industry they work in. People who are famous and don’t have strong fama placements can actually have a good reputation with their fame. People won’t try to make fun of you or a spectacle of your life to mock you. This is why we can see very famous adored people like princess Diana have no fama aspects yet was in the limelight of it all. Whereas Camilla has Fama conjunct ascendant. Fama is more gossipy, the kind of stuff you don’t really want to be known for. Rumours that defame your character and make you look like a bad person.

If you want to see what nasty things people say about you behind your back, and what they gossip about, look at your fama asteroid.

I have noticed that Venus in the 8th house can result in them thinking someone is interested in them when they’re not. I’ve also seen that these natives really get hurt in love like there’s some unreciprocated dynamic in their relationships if they experience pain from them. It can be people trying to use them, like becoming friends with them so they can have access to a guy the native knows, you can have your partner “stolen” from you by others

Virgo Mars love to make their partners stressed or see them stressing out/ how they handle stressful situations. They will respect you a lot if you can take stress and high expectations, multi task them like it’s nothing, or taking in the toll but managing it with order and planning

Mars in 10th house have the scary smile. Your smile can be seen as rather menacing, uncanny. People like this that have this placement are Joseph Stalin, Joaquin Phoenix, Khloe Kardashian, Bruce Lee, Mark Zuckerberg, Usher, Charlie Sheen. I can’t describe it but it’s a smile that’s like “ILL KILL YOU 😁”, the eyes look haywire yet locked on target, the smile is exaggerated and almost too joyful, face distorted in excitement like it’s dying to start something, it makes sense since 10H can show bone structure and mars being here can add an edge to it.

Oh and don’t forget that Mark Zuckerberg smile meme (he also has Mars 10H), a lot of these natives are known for their menacing smile and presence. Also you guys are villainised yet kind of respected for it. I’ve seen it prevalent in the men. E.g Joaquin Phoenix’s joker smile, Charlie Sheen + Bruce Lee + Khloe Kardashian showing anti social behaviour and becoming respected for it. If you commit crimes people might like you more 💀

This made me think of the British musician Aphex twin, who has the creepiest smile. I looked at his chart and guess what? He has a Aries MC, midheaven ruled by Mars and look at that smile:

Mars in Cancer specifically in 1st house can hold a lot of resentment towards their mother, get into nasty arguments with her, name calling or blame their mother for how they look and find their appearance annoying. On a more positive note these natives can do everything in their power for their mothers. At best natives with this placement can be feminists, in support of women in power. At worst they can despise ‘pathetic’ women and end up treating their wives with the same level of hatred too. Or just degrade women because of their own insecurities

e.g. Lord Byron, a British poet who blamed his mother for his foot deformity and would often call her names and unleash his rage on his wife, cheating on her egregiously

Sun conjunct Uranus makes someone very good with innovation, numerical values, science and maths. Your big highlight in this life may be that you invent something not thought of before. E.g people with this placement: Ada Lovelace- the creator of the first algorithm, John Von Neumann- A scientific genius who pioneered the modern computer, game theory, nuclear deterrence. He was described as so smart he made his teacher cry from doing complex calculus in his head at the age of 6 💀.

Since 1H can show how you present yourself, it can tell you the clothing you wear in your daily outfits, which made me think of how each planet in the first house may dress.

Neptune 1H can wear fantasy clothing, cosplay, fancy dress, masquerade masks, covid masks, any mask, magical accessories like iridescent tights, tiaras

Saturn 1H can incorporate historical tradition clothing like a timeless TAILORED clothing, think top hats, timeless coats, Victorian style dresses, also can have corsets as Saturn shows restrictions. It reminds me of that 1800s kind of look

Moon 1H can wear soft comforting clothes like vintage slips, nightgowns, pyjamas and loungewear, babydoll dresses, chunky knit fleece/coat

Mercury 1H can wear smart uniforms, plaid skirts, blazers, graphic t-shirts with slogans or logos, suspenders, ties, glasses, just very witty and youthful

Pluto 1H can wear intimidating darker clothes like chokers, gothic clothes, long trench coats, hoodies, all black, latex, bodycon, face coverings

Jupiter 1H can wear cultural clothing like kimonos, sarees/lenghas, bohemian styles, togas/roman inspired clothing, or like embroidered tunics

Mars 1H can wear combat military clothing, like camouflage, leather, fingerless gloves, ski masks, harnesses, military jacket, those belts or garters that can hold weapons like knives and guns

Sun 1H can wear statement clothing, designer logo branded pieces, fluffy clothes like furr , jewellery, this one’s more varied because Sun is the expression of self so they can actually wear stuff based more on the sign

Venus 1H can wear standard beauty centered clothing like corsets, brooches, lace, satin, heels, off the shoulder tops, pointed loafers and ascots for men, impractical fabrics, they’re more likely to wear things that aren’t necessarily comfortable but they come at the price of beauty.

Uranus 1H can incorporate unique futuristic, punk, techwear, platform shoes , noticed men can look disheveled almost, unique pvc reflective metallic fabrics, can have tech in their clothes, asymmetrical clothing, shoes that don’t match, they can be known for their unique choices in clothing too. The kind that makes people stop and think “what am I looking at rn”

Planets conjunct your ascendant are basically the main contributor to the method you approach your life with. For an example an Aries ascendant conjunct 12H Mercury can have a “I CAN DO IT ALL” mindset to everything in their life while actually using their mind to whip up and improvise a plan quickly out of nowhere, whereas if mercury wasn’t conjunct - they may not be as quick witted for the situations that occur in their life or be as tactical, they’d be like action with little plan, a river with no path but trusting on its flow.

Neptune in 11H might make you difficult to find online, your stalkers are seething. Maybe you don’t post, can have hidden private accounts or your page can look really magical like a Pinterest board but it’s hard to get a lot out of you solely based on your digital footprint

Also another thing, Neptune is NOT your friend lol, Neptune is a deceiver. I find it so interesting because people see Neptune as pure but it distorts reality and blurs the lines but makes it really pretty. Reminds me of Glinda from Wicked or hextech from arcane. It can be difficult for even the native because they may not realise they can deceive others as much as they do it to themselves. Wherever Neptune is in your chart can show who you deceive. Or how you’re deceived 3H siblings, 4H lying to family or about where you come from etc. You can also be lied to about missing family members or the roots of where you came from. 7H could be your clients and romantic partners can lie to you about what they want, 12H people could lie about you behind your back but you can struggle to trace where it comes from, you can also be completely oblivious to your subconscious thoughts. 10h can easily make you the scapegoat at work.

Venus 6H and their consistency in their beauty routines e.g skincare is what many aspire to. They are constantly glowing up since 6H shows our daily routines and self improvement so having Venus here can make you look prettier day by day. It’s like that “oh you keep getting prettier than the last time I saw you..”

Uranus 6H can overcome an illness that nobody would have thought they would. This is because wherever Uranus is in the chart can show where you rebel and bounce back in a way that nobody expected. With it being in 6H which also rules your health, you can surprise others by your illnesses, if you are ill you can have a rare condition or you’re the kind of person who gets sick like all the time but recovers the next day

Virgo moons feel sooo much fulfilment in being the cause of someone else’s satisfaction, it made me think of the UK onlyfans model Lily Philips, she slept with 100 random men in 24 hours in a documentary, afterwards she cried and felt horrible and used and said that she was most upset about the fact that she couldn’t make them all finish. A very sad documentary. But it really highlighted the nature of Virgo moons NEEDing to serve, to please. They say Libra are the people pleasers but honestly I’d give that one to Virgo, except usually virgos pickier with who they decide to please.

Lily Philips also has Fama conjunct Neptune, she’s famous for the sexual fantasy she portrays and the false image she shows to others, she’s so different from how she acts when making her OF content. This also proves my earlier said point about fama being scandalous as well because Lily has SOOOO much hate and gossip due to her “deceiving” image that’s the influence of Neptune for you. Might analyse her chart later.

Having both Pluto and moon in the 1H can create a silent brooding type of attractive. Adrien Brody has this placement and really embodies an edgy but comforting gaze. He is tall, has emotional melancholic eyes from moons effect yet has high contrast, intense dark features. I think it’s a really interesting mix of traits to have in the first house

Chiron in Libra can make someone be rather insecure of their appearance, usually body and face or femininity. They feel like they’re not beautiful enough. Anya Taylor joy , Maisie Williams, Kylie Jenner, Dolly Parton, Freddie Mercury, have this placement and all have publicly known insecurities based on their appearance despite them being inspirational to others for getting the limelight and praise without looking like everyone else. They pick at themselves quite a lot.

I always raise my eyebrow when I see a Pluto conjunct Lilith/Uranus in a chart. That person can be very dark, they can bring about a side of humanity that most people don’t want to discuss yet are fascinated with. They are capable of some really…. scary things. Especially if all 3 asteroids and planets are conjunct to each other. Pluto is intense it’s dark, it’s controlling but when it’s conjunct Uranus it now has chaos, rebellion, Lilith also rebels but it’s unapologetic, it may make people scared and trigger primal fears because of how messy the person is, these people can be really explosive. They’re also really intimidating, i could imagine the group anonymous that leaked classified government documents having this kind of placement. They literally go into the guttural trenches of inhumanity and bring out its findings then present it to the naive public like a cat dragging a rodents scathed body to the owner expecting a reward. It can be impressive sometimes, you often think “how did you even come up with the idea to do this?”

[ckret2]

Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist. 

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. 

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room. 

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream. 

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here." 

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it. 

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

[reds-skull]

Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (completed)

Been a while since I've made one of these! Decided it's time to get into the biggest category I have...

These don't have any shared theme beside having multiple chapters and being completed, and they're both NSFW and SFW.

As always, make sure to look at the CWs and tags before reading, and if a link doesn't work, you're welcome to reach out!

[Some of these might be by authors I already recommended, you can find that list here]

Shotgun Sunsets, Desert Stars by noxmajor - Soap keeps disappearing. Ghost gets curious.

Chasing Ghosts and Dreams by TheEdwardianOne - Soap and Ghost finally do something about their feelings in a safehouse after a mission.

Give Me Hope & Let Me Down by MechanicalBones - Soap saves his idiot Lieutenant & there's a shit tonne of hurt-comfort & smooches.

Love Is Not An Act, It's A Habit by wodnica - Ghost and Soap got separated from their team, lost and alone. Ghost must reconsider how close his relationship with Soap really is.

The Devil You Know by Artaccountant1 - In order for life in the 141 to go on, Ghost had to die. He knew Soap wouldn't take it well, but he never expected him to end up like this. That mask was only supposed to be for special occasions.

It's cracked and it's scarred (but I would give you my heart) by FetteEule - After a mission gone wrong Ghost and Soap find themselves cut off from their team and have to work together to figure out what happened, all while navigating their growing feelings for each other.

when does a man become a monster by wellyesbutactuallyno - One of Makarov's men takes Ghost. Soap gets him back.

Pieces of You by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap slowly collects pieces of Ghost through his clothes or his weapons. Eventually, Simon gets something of Johnny's.

a Moth to a Flame by theidjits - Firefighter John MacTavish was eager to start his career. What he didn't expect when he was assigned to Station 141 was to fall for the elusive Lieutenant. (firefighters 141)

Trace Them Gently by Grangers_apprentice - There are a lot of reasons Ghost wears so many layers. Layers keep you warm. They keep you safe. They keep prying eyes and wandering hands away. Ghost has more reasons than most to want to keep his skin under wraps. [Restricted]

A Steady Beat in an Unsteady Time by Grangers_apprentice - Soap has been having dreams where Ghost dies, and comes up with an unconventional way of reassuring himself that his lieutenant is fine. (part 1 of the Heartbeat Series) [Restricted]

Blossoms by felicitous - Against his better judgement, John "Soap" MacTavish was in love with Simon "Ghost" Riley. And while he knew that Ghost could never, would never, love him back, he was happy to take whatever attention the man would give him, even if it killed him. (Hanahaki AU)

Remember Me (Please) by Darkflamej - Johnny winds up with amnesia and Ghost is struggling to keep them both alive while trying to balance the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with a man who doesn’t even remember him.

The Truth Comes Out by Darkflamej - Ghost is under the influence of a truth serum and is trying his best to not confess his love for Soap.

Mission: You by TheD - Soap keeps getting distracted recently by Ghost. They do something about it, leading to an entanglement that leads to complications in their relationship.

the human condition by bilbhoebangins - Ghost shows up to an anonymous hookup and finds a naked and blindfolded Johnny waiting for him. His sergeant is completely unaware of just who he's arranged to meet, and Ghost has to make a choice, between what's right, and what he so desperately wants.

Awake At Night by CYBERGUTS - A friends to lovers fic over 4 seasons.

Prank Call by Team_141_property - A prank call goes wrong, personal walls are ripped down, people get hurt, and feelings get confessed. [read the CW on this one especially]

Yes to Heaven by Apollos_Last_Prophet - Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is declared K.I.A during a failed recon mission in 2017. His commanding officer, Captain John Price, takes the loss personally, but has no other choice then to move on. Five years later, Price fights an assassin with a familiar face. [the one and only]

Someday The Dust Will Settle by shadow_in_the_window - Panic was starting to flood Ghost's senses. Johnny had lost a lot of blood. He cleared his mind. There was no way he'd let Johnny die on his watch. Not now. Not ever.

A Sunrise In the Dark by [orphan_account] - “Don’t say that, Johnny.” Ghost spoke, his voice quiet. “Say what?” “That you’d take a bullet.” “I would, though.”

On Begged and Borrowed Time by goforblood - Soap MacTavish is the newest member of Task Force 141. Soap could not have foreseen the enigmatic lieutenant, Ghost, who threatens to turn everything on its head. Can he keep his burgeoning crush on the masked man a secret? Or will someone call his bluff?

Midnight Snacks by MireyaRowan - Ghost is forced to share a room with Soap for a few nights, greatly increasing his anxiety about his night terrors. He hasn't let anyone in the task force know how hard being idle is for him. Soaps makes a whole deal out of it to try and keep Ghost distracted from his past.

I Woke Up Underground by WispScribbles - Soap, Ghost, Price and Gaz are on a mission to take out Hassan's allies. It goes south when explosives cause the cave system to collapse, injuring and trapping the team.

A Little Death by CaptainMJ - Ghost dragged himself out of Vernon's grave to see that Roba hadn't left. Had waited to see if he'd manage to do it. Ghost never escaped and eventually they were successful in breaking him down and making him someone else. Kinda. Kinda successful.

Spoils of War by CaptainMJ - Ghost defeats Soap's kingdom and after splitting up the spoils, he takes Soap too. Soap expects the worst, but Ghost doesn't seem keen on doing anything to him. How long is that going to last?

Target Locked by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: In a world where having a soulmark is a rare and forgotten phenomenon, finding your other half can be more a curse than a blessing. Soap joined the military intent on escaping the stigma of the mark, adamant he'd never find his soulmate.

Fucking new guy by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Soap joins Task Force 141, ready to prove himself as the best of the best. On his first day, he finds himself choked in the training room by a prick in a skull mask. Now Soap must deal with his growing attraction to his lieutenant, a sarcastic and cold-hearted man named Ghost, while at the same time proving to the 141 he's worthy of being there.

ripe and ruin by ghcst - It's August 1917, the rain doesn't seem like it will ever cease, and Soap starts to wonder if this war will ever end. He also has trouble trying to decide whether or not Lieutenant Simon Riley is really human. [WW1 AU, I recommend it even if you don't like the time period!]

Got your back, you got mine by WhiteBeakedRaven - five times Ghost did Soap a favor and the one time Soap had paid him back.

He Stuck Around For The Moon by escence - He’d been avoiding Ghost, planning on continuing to do so until he could sort out his thoughts and feelings regarding the man, preferably, shifting them into something less intimate. Evidently, he’d run out of time and Ghost had found a way to pin him down, literally and metaphorically.

The fever dream by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are back from a mission when Soap is struck down with a fever. Ghost navigates keeping his sergeant alive while coping with Soap unabashedly hitting on him, riling him up to bursting point.

Worth the Wait by trueheirofslytherin - Soap needs a sign that Ghost is interested in him. Ghost needs a sign that Soap is interested in him. One of them needs to take the initiative.

kiss the skin that crawls from you by congee4lunch - soap gets kidnapped. ghost tears through flesh and blood to get him back. amidst the carnage of a sinner's hands and in the absence of his god, he remembers what it means to love.

solemn prayer, poppy in my hair by congee4lunch - when soap invites ghost back home to scotland for a week, ghost hadn't imagined he would wind up in a fake dating scheme to trick soap's family, of all people. it also doesn't help that he's head over heels in love with soap, of all people.

Need You Now by SammyLuka - Alternatively, time in between missions makes Ghost realize that he doesn't know what to do without Soap. Thankfully, Soap understands.

Deep In The Fog by Crispyywheat - Soap is a big ol’ cryptid!! The 141 hunts down monsters/cryptids but Soap being a little idiot but also smart(?) decides to hide amongst the 141 as human. [I believe this one is currently being rewritten, the new work is called "Oh Weary Souls"]

I Didn't Need It, It Needed Me by starryathame - Ghost was wearing his balaclava, but he could feel his true mask slipping. He was becoming more Simon with every day Soap was around, and that knowledge terrified him. He hadn’t seen Simon Riley in the mirror in over a decade; he didn’t even know if he’d recognize himself anymore.

Affirmative, Sir by Wixiany - A mission goes wrong and both Soap and Ghost are left wounded. Back home, on his sick-leave, Soap's apartment gets broken into by the very men they were supposed to capture that day.

Wrap Your Arms Around My Cortex, Dig You In, and Let You Drain by [orphan_account] - Ghost returns to home base for the first time in four months and is unequipped to handle the growing emotions he feels toward a certain sergeant.

Say Yes To Me by [orphan_account] - Ghost gets held hostage and Soap saves him + the aftermath.

Pattern Breaker by mothbeast - A canon-compliant rework and extension of MW2: Reboot.

your finger on my hairpin trigger by lostReality - after Soap makes a few comments, about the mask, about sex, Ghost can't think of much else. And when Soap offers to fuck him after calling him pretty, why would he refuse?

earl grey skies by hyacinthwine - Johnny tries not to stare, but it’s difficult to tear his eyes away from the man. Really, there’s nothing that striking, he’s just an average Manchester man starting his day, yet Johnny wants to ogle just a little more. [coffeeshop AU]

Blinking by witchofsparkles - When Soap started seeing a very specific face with a skull mask and a pair of honey-brown eyes on his mirror and some glass, he thought he lost it good. Then it talked to him. [alternate dimension AU]

drag the lake and bring me home again by amongthebooks - During a stakeout mission in a remote area, Ghost is taken by the enemy. He's bound and thrown into a lake, and Soap has to scramble to get to him in time.

leave and liquor by your_wild_simp - Ghost is forced on a mental leave after a harsh mission. He crumbles, loses himself, has panic attacks and nightmares every time he remembers. But Soap is there, always there for him. Either through the phone, or physically rooming with him, Soap is there to help.

Between the Sand and the Stardust by tey_a - The one where soulmates leave marks on each other at their first skin on skin contact but feel drawn to each other before. Soap joins the 141 hoping to find a home in the form of a team. He finds it in the form of a man instead.

Six Feet Under And Quiet by snapple714 - Everyone in Soap's life has told him he's just too much. Not in the 141 though. But that can't last forever. He's bound to mess it up soon. It seems to happen on a particular mission, when Johnny gets trapped in a grave with a corpse. When the team realizes where they've made him wait for so long, they feel nothing but regret. Particularly Ghost, who is all too familiar with spending time underground…

Stubborn born by DepressoEspresso1000 - Soaps a fucking idiot and almost kills himself just to avoid medical leave, and Ghost is just as much of an idiot but he loves Soap and is not gonna watch him not care for himself.

If You Don't Stop, I'll End up Believing You by Hochseeperle - The new guy in the 141, Soap, doesn't have a filter when it comes to flirting. Ghost has no idea how to cope with that. He can't afford to lose face in front of his peers, so he decides to just… play along.

With Colours Over All The Wasted Years by kilikinnie - everyone owns a necklace that displays your soulmate's emotions through colours and their proximity through temperature. Ghost never expected to meet his, and Soap thought his was long gone.

(every scar will build my) Throne by Sillililli - Soap, the new leader of the MacTavish family mafia, is owed a debt by a family rivel. To repay him, Soap is given Ghost.

Keep The Change by hertzdonut - Soap's been shipped out to a safehouse in the Canadian Wilderness alone, except then Ghost shows up, but maybe Soap wasn't supposed to be shipped out in the first place? And Soap's been running on zero sleep and pure angst since they left Chicago. 'Tis the season.

real people by ghost_throat - ghost is struggling with his recent discharge from military service and doesn't hold much hope for his future. his former captain secured him a job at a coffee shop with a stupid name and annoying colleages and customers. [Restricted]

The ghost lingering in your shadow by arkinh - It took only a few weeks before objects seemed to move around without Soap remembering moving them. Lights were switched on or off by themselves, or flickering as he passed by them. For the first time in his life, he doubted his beliefs. Perhaps he should have left room for the possibility that it was all real?

What's The Name? by AvaLoren - John MacTavish is late to the coffee shop he works at after a late night argument with his girlfriend the previous night. He can't shake the memory playing on a loop in his head until a voice snaps him out of it. The customer before him has him fumbling for words and smiling like crazy. [another coffeeshop AU]

The Wind Will Howl Your Name by Minimelo - After a hunt goes wrong, John finds himself in the care of Ghost. [medieval AU, so so so good]

Cave In by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are forced to abandon a mission after the rain washes them out. They take shelter in a cave while they wait for the storm to pass, except this storm is sitting over them and won't budge. As night falls, the cave cracks, and they find themselves trapped. It wouldn't be a problem, except Soap is panicking, and Ghost is struggling to calm him down.

Burbon Soaked Letters by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap began finding letters full of threats and extremely personal information about his family and loved ones. He desperately hides it from his team while trying to find out the identity of his stalker. [the MCD tag on this one doesn't apply to the 141]

Safety Hazard by Red_Clegane - Soap is the adoptive son of President Price, but he’s hard to contain and a security risk. He’s never had a secret service agent last more than a few weeks. So, when Special Agent Ghost and his team are brought in to babysit, he thinks it’ll be another few weeks of fun. But a traitor is lurking in the Whitehouse and while Ghost protects Soap from himself, Simon will need to protect Johnny from something far more insidious.

[sstrwbrryccke]

I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)

HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!

the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)

— sponsor | sub park sunghoon

tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship

you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.

the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.

you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.

a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.

when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."

"ah, sorry."

"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.

"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.

"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"

"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.

he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."

"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."

"yes sir." he replies without much thought.

you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.

"you caught my eye in the performance."

he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."

"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.

"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."

his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"

you chuckle, "yes, really."

☆★☆

perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.

you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.

"did you see the spin?"

"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.

after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.

the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.

he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.

"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"

"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"

"yes."

you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.

☆★☆

navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.

"what are your expectations for me?"

and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.

"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."

he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...

"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.

"i see." he pulls back, shy again.

"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.

he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.

"i am."

☆★☆

and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.

training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.

"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.

"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.

it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.

sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.

but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.

you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.

you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.

gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.

and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.

☆★☆

you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.

“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”

you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.

“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”

“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.

“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.

“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”

he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.

“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”

you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”

he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.

“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.

“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”

your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”

he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.

“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.

“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.

“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.

“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.

“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.

“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.

not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.

“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.

“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?

“come for me hoonie, come for me.”

his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.

it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.

“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.

“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

you guys share a look before laughing.

☆★☆

everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.

before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!

snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.

after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.

☆★☆

sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.

you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.

“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.

your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.

“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.

“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.

“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.

you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.

his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…

that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.

his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”

you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.

“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.

“anything for the olympic winner.”

[anglingforlevels]

Open House (Yandere House x Reader)

When people say the housing market is a nightmare, is this what they had in mind? (The story goes out to me because I’m trying to get an apartment and it is Suffering. Please pretend this count as yandere.)

CW: not proofread, unconventional captivity, swearing, I accidentally had too much fun writing Abby and forgot the point of the story-

Minors DNI

When you proudly had reached the saving milestone to buy a small house in the countryside, you had opted to spend some of that money on a real estate agent, figuring it was a good investment, hiring a Ms. Abby Bardot – who, over the phone, had insisted heavily on being called Abby rather than Ms. Bardot – who had twenty years of experience in the field.

Quite quickly, you realized that perhaps she wasn’t the most conventional real estate agent.

Ms. Abby, you quickly noticed at your first meeting, was all hand-wringing and nervous sweating, though she seemed sweet enough, having clutched a tin of home-cooked cookies in all shades of black and almost-not-black, and had heartily insisted you’d take as many as you’d like (which was zero).

She had insisted on bringing you to an open house for what she had called a hidden gem of a house, that it would be a private tour. To you, once she mentioned it would be at 1 p.m., it was quite obvious that “private tour” meant, “no one else has or will be showing up”.

Ms. Abby had also enthusiastically shown pictures of the place, pictures she had ready-at-the-go on her phone, presumably she really needed a buyer for the house.

“Ms. Abby.” You had said, interrupted with a small interjection of, Oh please, just Abby. “Ms. Abby, that’s not quite a house and more so a small manor. I went over my budget with you when I hired you.” Ms. Abby had quickly recovered from the rejection and puffed out her chest proudly.

“Why that’s the best part, this is within your budget!”

You had sent her a dubious look at this. “Are the pictures… How do I put this delicately? Are the pictures recent and unedited?”

Ms. Abby deflated so quickly that it almost felt impressive, almost urging you to clap as if it was a circus performance. Of course, it felt mean had you clapped at her dejected look.

“It’s well-kept, I assure you. These pictures are all recent, I’ve updated them every year for almost my entire career!” She said proudly, and you almost felt pity at the fact she didn’t seem to realize her own slip-up but instead paraded it around like a badge of honor.

Though, all-in-all you were charmed, and somewhat endeared, by the honesty. But not very much by the house at all. “I think I’d like to look at other options, it’s awfully big for just one person.”

“Ah, wait!” Ms. Abby said urgently. “Please, before we continue with other options, let’s first try out the open house this Friday.”

“Is this protocol, Ms. Abby?” Ms. Abby’s lips wobbled at this and… “Are you crying?!”

“No, I’m a professional. Real Estate Agents don’t cry, I’m simply sweating, is all.” Ms. Abby sniffled, dubbing her eyes with a handkerchief, presumably you were meant to believe her eyes were suffering heat stroke on this fine autumn day.

“…Alright, I’ll go to the open house. Just give me the address.” You eventually relented, if only to avoid seeing the pitiful sight of a teary-eyed Ms. Abby.

That’s how you ended up before a grand house out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town was an hour-long drive away. Forest and fields were most of the surroundings, which was why the house was in such stark contrast, standing as a sole presence, the forests and fields shying away to make room for it, leaving a vast vacancy around it, stretching on for at least fifty meters.

It really was a pristine house, when comparing it to the pictures, it seemed to match right down to the placement of every rock and plant in sight. As if someone had consciously placed each leaf and pebble.

The plants and trees of the garden donned vibrant colors despite the season. You wondered how often Ms. Abby came by, or if she had hired a crew for maintenance, as you could not spot even the slightest hint of dirt or spiderwebs.

The only thing that looked aged was, unfortunately, the “For Sale” sign.

It felt a little unnatural, but you chalked it up to currently being a display house, and thus not lived-in either. You took notice of the way the trees beyond the reach of the garden were withered and wrinkled, and the grass yellowy, dry patches, barely hiding the dirt beneath.

“Some more forest could really do this place some good.” You mumbled. You hesitated for reasons you didn’t fully understand before stepping beyond dead plants clinging loosely to your feet and entering the garden.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes the further you traveled, the door felt so far when the weight of something cloyingly attentive seemed to drag you down as if to prevent your advances.

“You’re here!” A delighted Ms. Abby yelled out before the sound of pitter-patter was interrupted by a loud thud against the door that rattled the frame. With her energy dampened, a sheepish Ms. Abby appeared behind the front door, simply saying; “It opens the other way.”

Right, something attentive could only have been the attention of the overzealous Ms. Abby.

“Come in, come in!” She invited, all but pulling you stumbling into a most decadently, lavishly decorated foyer. From distasteful stuffed animal heads to the ruby red furniture and mosaic glass tables, it felt quite uncomfortable, all sharp angles and very little homeliness to it, like an ornate display of wealth rather than a welcome into a household.

“Not very welcoming, huh?” You commented, which Ms. Abby elected not to respond to, though the small “eep” suggested she had heard the negative impression.

Looking the room over it was impossible for your eyes not to rest at the centerpiece of the foyer: A huge painting above the staircase. A solemn-looking guy stared out into the air, curly locks framing his face. Old paintings always looked miserable, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was a glint of genuine misery in his eyes. Noticing your attention had wandered, Ms. Abby followed your eyes.

“Oh, that was an owner of the house who had it commissioned back during the Renaissance, they wanted it right here, in the heart of the house.” She explained though you couldn’t say you agreed to a decadent foyer being the heart of a house, and if it was, that wasn’t boding well for Ms. Abby’s already poor sales chances.

“I’ve never understood why someone would want to pay money to look miserable in a painting, like you’re paying for it, at least make yourself smile or something.” Your jab was met with Ms. Abby’s impressive ability to carry on like you had said nothing negative at all.

“You know, the owner claimed it was a Jan van Eyck-original too.” Ms. Abby said as if letting you in on a secret, or town gossip. “Really, we’ve had it appraised.”

“And the appraiser confirmed it was a Jan van-whatever original?”

“…The owner really loved art; you’ll see plenty of paintings throughout the place.”

So that was a no. And speaking of no’s:

“Listen, Ms. Abby, I don’t exactly have the budget for a big house, as I already said. I especially don’t have the kind of budget that the kind of person who’d commission an artist to paint them for their foyer would have.”

Abby laughed nervously. “Well, you see, the value’s dropped as I mentioned. We haven’t been able to sell it for a long time, so the price just kept falling.”

“Right. But even so, it can’t have fallen that much.”

At this, Abby avoided eye contact, wringing her hands before, after a big breath, blurting it out. “The person in the painting was the last person to own the house.”

…

“Is this place built on top of an oilfield or something?”

Ms. Abby laughed a hearty if a bit shrill, laughter, before sighing and mumbling. “If only.” She clapped. “But! This is a charming house, why, let me show you the many rooms!”

“Ms. Abby, have you ever considered a field outside of sale?” You asked dryly but nonetheless followed along, eager to leave behind the painting, as you felt watched. The house consisted of many sprawling hallways, enough to almost make one dizzy, and you struggled to remember where everything was.

The house had many rooms, none of them particularly inviting, reading more like a historical display room lacking any warmth or heart (and perhaps even worse, any semblance of renovation despite old age), and all absolutely clustered with trinkets, knickknacks, and in the case of the walls, paintings – leaving very little free space.

It really did read like a historical display, as some rooms seemed older than others, suggesting partial renovation must have been done on some of the rooms. You’d like a word with whoever had been in charge of that lackluster, nonsensical effort.

Perhaps the lack of replaced furniture or renovation was why the house periodically seemed to creak and moan in odd ways, at times you almost confused it as Ms. Abby groaning or sighing, only to realize it was the sound of the house itself.

As for Ms. Abby, she remained undeterred regardless of how many snide remarks you made, which you had to commend her for, though the charm you initially had felt from it was quickly wearing off. Ms. Abby actually seemed increasingly happy, humming to herself. She didn’t think the sale was going well, did she?

“How much of the house is there left to see, Ms. Abby?” You asked, increasingly impatient and tired, having been dragged through an unreasonable number of rooms, which inexplicably, almost all were bedrooms (and yet, you had yet to see more than a single bathroom).

“Well, we’re still missing a couple rooms like the kitchen, oh! I know, how about the master bedroom since you’ll be spending every night there.” She said with a beaming smile.

“That’s awfully optimistic, Ms. Abby.” You noted, at this you received a good-hearted chuckle.

“Oh, this place is too lovely to pass up on, I think it likes you – it’s a match made in heaven. If you don’t like some of the features or decorations, it’s easy to change those, so it would be a waste not to live here.”

“I can’t imagine a house as empty as this holding much affection, and I’m not up for a big project.” All you wanted was a small but cozy house, a simple place. You felt exhausted just thinking about the amount of work you’d need to pour into a house like this to make it feel like home.

“Well, it’s perhaps not an easy house,” Ms. Abby admitted, her cheer at this point an unshakeable force, as a sense of confidence seemed to have sprouted in her. “But that’s why when that rare fit comes by one must take the leap and hold onto it.”

You’d feel insulted by the suggestion you were a good fit for this distasteful and unpleasant house, had Ms. Abby not already shown herself as incompetent but well-meaning. You simply sighed, giving up the conversation, figuring you’d find another real estate agent when you came home.

“Well, take me to the master bedroom then.”

Ms. Abby led you through the foyer again, the bedroom apparently at the other end of the house. Your eyes were drawn to the painting once more, its eyes felt more sunken in than before, shadows forming beneath, to which you tiredly sighed. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

The master bedroom seemed to be at the stopping point to the sprawling hallways on the right. You were just aghast at the fact you had gone through another set of sprawling hallways, you wondered who had come up with the confusing layout of the place.

Ms. Abby tried to imitate a trumpet to build up suspense but trailed off after you shot her an impatient look. After a weak cough, she simply said “Tadaah” and opened the door.

You stopped up, your right foot hanging in the air, about to cross into the room. A sense of foreboding filled you; it was a bit different from the first time, however. The prickling sensation you felt and the cloying attention, it felt smothering, less like a shove away and more like… Being held in place.

Ms. Abby waited patiently inside the room, not commenting on your hesitation, though you had been snarky and displeased the entire tour, so perhaps this just seemed like more of that. You swallowed and ignored the pressure as you put your foot down and entered the room.

The air felt different here. You had hoped the odd sensation would disappear if you just carried on, like when you entered the house, to begin with, instead, it worsened. The air clung to you, terribly heavy and sticky. It took you a moment to actually focus enough to realize Ms. Abby had spoken, so when you finally snapped back to reality, Ms. Abby was standing in the hallway.

“-tively spellbound already. I’ll give you some time to look around and get acquainted together, one-on-one.” And then she closed the door in your face. The room was, oddly empty, compared to every other room. Nothing but a big, red bed, the empty walls that you could’ve sworn were further away when you entered, and that feeling of being watched, lodging into your skin like stitching.

Nothing except an almost empty room that didn’t feel empty enough.

That’s it. Ms. Abby had officially used up all her pity points, you were leaving. You opened the door, a tad more aggressively than what was perhaps called for, but Ms. Abby was nowhere to be seen in the hallway.

For how annoyed you were with her at this point, you found that you missed her company as you walked down the hallway, nothing distracting you from the odd sounds of the house that seemed to have increased. It felt as if the floor beneath your feet moved and rumbled slightly, the velvety carpets uneven and bumpy, as if walking on something breathing, something living.

You wished that Ms. Abby had given you the floor plans, as you struggled to remember how to return to the foyer through the hallways and occasional rooms you had to cross seemed to hold no real rhythm and didn’t feel as if it obeyed any rules about directions.

At one point you could have sworn you turned back, only to be in another room than where you had emerged from originally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you found the foyer again. Even in your rush to find the door, your eyes were drawn to the painting, though you continued to rush by it. In your haste, it almost looked as if the painting’s colors were smudged.

You attempted to open the door but found it didn’t budge. It was an odd choice to lock the door, but you were certain that was the reason, it had to be. A locked door was no issue from the inside, but even after hearing the click of the lock, the door didn’t budge when you attempted to open it.

You attempted to kick, pry, tear, and even throw your body weight at the door, but with no luck.

Settling in the foyer after your final attempt at prying the front door open, you huffed, out of breath. You laid on the stairs, trying to settle your heart and pulse, when your eyes landed on the painting again.

…You rubbed your eyes and sat up, thinking what you had seen was owed to your tiredness and the upside-down angle, but no. The painting really did look smudged. Like someone had blurred colors and borders together, the hair’s vibrant color having lost its radiance.

And the mouth, it was oddly smudged between the lips, that it almost gave the impression of a mouth being pried open.

…

No, that was silly, you were being silly. The painting was smudged out, which was already creepy enough on its own, or rather, the house was already creepy enough on its own – your mind was just working overtime and was making up new things to get scared over.

“Well brain, if you like overtime, I guess I’ll have to put you to use and think of an escape. But you don’t have a union, so it’s unpaid hours for you, I’m afraid.”

If the front door was a bust, then you’d find a window. You struggled to recall any windows on the ground floor, but surely there had to be some. Or… That’s right! The kitchen, it had a glass door. You never got around to seeing the kitchen, having mainly been shown the upstairs so far, but you recalled Ms. Abby mentioning it back when she had given her pitch for why you should show up.

You hadn’t been on the left side of the house, at least not on the ground floor, so you figured that was a good direction to begin, in your search for the kitchen. You opened the door, urgency in your steps, only to find you weren’t in an unfamiliar room.

Instead, you were back in the empty master bedroom, which somehow felt much more crammed than any of the other rooms. But… That didn’t make sense. The master bedroom was upstairs, you had fought through a confusing hallway to find the foyer, so this… this didn’t make sense at all.

The air felt oppressive in the room as if your heart would be forced to a halt from the sheer weight of it, like a physical presence. This time you were sure that the walls were closer than they had been before. A bed table had been added next to the bed, and the part of you still delusional enough to hope thought maybe it meant that Ms. Abby was still around. As if this was an elaborate prank.

You tried to swallow despite how dry your mouth felt, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. This was ridiculous. You slammed the door open again, the door shaking on its hinges. Beyond the door, it revealed a hallway, but even if the hallway was confusing, you had been through it twice by now, you could do this, you could find the kitchen or a ground-floor window.

Hurrying along the hallway, it felt as if the floor and walls shifted and moved. Were you dizzy, or was this actually happening? The restrictive air of the master bedroom followed you, as you dragged yourself through.

“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows when you opened one of the doors. You were sure this was the one you had gone through before, but the room behind was unfamiliar. Cold dread filled you as a horrible thought crossed your mind.

No, no, no. You ran to the next door but behind it was another unfamiliar room. Were the layout… Changing? Your hand trembled as you tried to open a third door, and you felt like crying when all it revealed was the master bedroom again.

A lamp now stood on top of the bed table. Were new things going to be added each time you returned to the room? You thought back to the cramped bedrooms Ms. Abby had so cheerfully shown off. You weren’t sure what to make of it but felt sick all the same.

“I don’t have time for this.” You had to snap yourself out of it. You could spiral and panic later, but for now, you needed to get out. So, turning on your heel, you returned to the hallway. You’d go through each door that didn’t lead to the master bedroom, hoping to somehow find your way downstairs.

You almost cheered audibly when you finally saw the staircase, rushing to it. Once again, as you passed it, your eyes were drawn to the painting.

The painting no longer looked the same as before, the person it had been long erased by smudged and changing lines. You couldn’t tell what it was changing into but felt your heart race with familiarity all the same.

The mouth was a gaping hole by now, outstretched awkwardly. You thought it might have been a smile, but it looked much more like a pained grimace to you.

You only took this as further encouragement to get out of there.

When you failed to find anything of use, you realized there was one room that you seemed to always find. So, as counterintuitive as it seemed, you walked upstairs again, and as confusing as the changing layout was, it didn’t take you long to find it.

You saw the familiar bed, the bed table, the lamp, and the newly added clock on the wall (which didn’t seem to be working) and closed your eyes for a moment. You took a deep breath. And then you decisively walked in to grab the lamp, shivering a bit as you brushed against a much-too-warm wall.

If you couldn’t find the kitchen or a window on the ground floor, then fuck it, you’d find one up here. Whatever broken bones or bruises you’d get from the fall, you’d accept. Finding a window upstairs proved much more doable, as one would line the walls every now and then.

You threw the lamp against the window and braced yourself for impact.

But nothing happened.

The lamp fell to the floor with a hollow thud. When you opened your eyes, you found not a single scratch on the window. So, you tried again. And again. You tried punching the window, earning nothing but a stinging fist.

Yet you continued. At some point, it became more of a tantrum, an expression of your desperation colored in violence, than an attempt to escape. Hitting the window, kicking the wall. “Why-“ you hated this house. You hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. You just wanted to leave. Your ears rang, whether it was from your headache, or the way the house’s groans and creaks had grown in severity, you didn’t know, didn’t care, couldn’t care.

Already unsteady on your feet, your final kick caused you to lose balance entirely.

Stumbling and falling onto the floor, without realizing it, you found yourself by the stairs, and face to face with the painting. Your blood ran cold as you stared into your own lifeless eyes staring down at you from above.

 

Quiet had fallen over the house like a blanket, only the slow rumble throughout the house bellied any activity. In the heart of the house rested a painting, donning a toothy smile and a certain glint in their eyes.

A satisfied Ms. Abby removed the “For Sale” sign out front and drove away with a hum.

[astropookie]

Ascendants at different degrees 🦚🦢 pt 3

hii, hope you have a beautiful day✨🧚‍♀️ i don’t have an excuse for my delay post but ty so much for all the support AAAAAAAAA😭❤️

Alexandra Levasseur

Ascendant at Gemini degree (3°, 15° or 27°)

they’re hyperactive. They have so much to say bc their mind is a work of overthinking. they have A LOT of ideas that they want to put it into words but can be difficult for them. Every type of process takes them longer or feels longer than what others will express, bc while doing it they’re thinking and thinking, it’s a cycle. Their profession could be related to “communicate” if that’s too obvious HAKDBA. but in every manner, that’s their passion, their need. making songs, advising, doesn’t matter what’s the career, the meaning or the need is present. their purpose is to put those ideas into words and those meanings the words own, reach out to more people. As I said in another post, I have a friend that has Gemini degree at his ascendant and breaths music, but I haven’t mentioned other people Ik that doesn’t represent the conventional example: she is a psychologist, she attracts people when she talks and her charisma. But it’s obvious how they struggle to communicate or it’s not easy to make themselves understood. That’s why they prefer to analyze others or to speak up through a non conventional way. I’ve seen that since ever they have difficulties with educational system, they’re too bored and intelligent -hyperactive- to adapt. what others say and how they process it is interesting…

Ascendant at Libra degree (7° or 19°)

their face is symmetrical. they’re pretty good at giving advice, comes naturally to them. they look “put together”, that they have their things to do, their schedule. they’re not direct -with my friend that have libra degree at their ascendant, I have to ask them specific questions with the objective of reading their mind. For example, I ask if they like my outfit and they’re making rare expressions and saying “YeS” with a rare tone, so I ask them “you don’t like it?” and they don’t say something clear-. I have to interpretate more than listening to a clear answer. Taking care of their appearance it’s essential, if they don’t like it, they’ll change -appearance matters-. You’ll see them owning a lot of makeup products but they look or use a “natural” look/makeup -if they use it-. They don’t try to be too “unique” or attract attention in a way that could be seen as unconventional/rare, they follow tendencies that could be seen as basic but for them it’s more than enough. growing up they could have cared too much about what others think. They could have lived or are still living without questioning themselves what are they doing with their lives, not realizing they’re part of a system and that they’re an individual. in other words, they could have had ignored how they were living, they were “vibing” but have never stopped and asked themselves “what am I doing?”. And if they had, they conformed themselves bc they didn’t want a change, to be “accepted”.

Ascendant at Aquarius degree (11° or 23°)

they’re THE bitch. they know their worth. their passion or what calls their heart is to be someone in the society we live, to make a change. people will prejudge and have a wrong idea of them: they’re loners, they’re mean and they only think about themselves, they’re egoists. only bc they don’t try to be as everyone, only bc they’re not people pleasers and they’re true to themselves, doesn’t mean they’re egoists. In reality, all their thoughts end up on the same final: to help the fcking humanity. it sounds cliche, it’s too cringe for them to admit it ⛓️🖤 since their childhood, they have been exposed to information that showed problematics in the world. they process information logically bc their surroundings taught them to, suppressing their emotions. they search for solutions logically, they could suffer for explaining what are their needs without judging themselves. they could be bad at advising bc they’re struggling to even comfort themselves. trough all their life, they have doubts or not an stable self-esteem: god complex. ik its impossible to not mention this phrase for an Aquarius placement: they have had and have difficulties feeling part of a community, to not feel lonely -not alone bc it refers to be “physical by yourself”-. They could be feeling really lonely but they sabotage themselves remaining they don’t have to feel, like a robot. they’re complimented by their style💋 unique

Ascendant at Sagittarius degree (9° or 21°)

they’re chill, they take things as they come -or that’s how they appear-. they’re calm but calm that can take a joke that’s supposed to be offensive and they’re sarcastic about it. it’s like they��re mosquitos around and they have repellent -the best example 🤩-. STILL they’re pretty sensitive. I think they try to be as calm as they seem to not worry their mother/parental figure with all the struggles they’ve had. They tried to be their sunshine: they are but as time passes they converted these behavior on a mask, hiding how they feel really. They vibe. surprisingly, they’re not chaotic or histrionic, it’s like they’re good, like “meh” good BUT sure they have their moments. change my mind, they’re or “calm you should be afraid of it” or they don’t give a shit but in a “dog that needs to be taken for a walk way to waste that energy” -as a sag placement i recognize and reaffirm 🤓☝️ i need to be taken for a walk like the bitch I am, that’s an horrible jk god-. They remind me of a taurus ascendant but they actually don seek comfort and if they do, their whole life is about going out of their comfort zone bc of their drive of wanting to know more. they actually know, even though they’re not scorpios, they know shit and let things happen naturally. in other words, they have acknowledged that if they tell people what’s happening it’s not gonna hit them as how it’ll if they live it. and they’re loyal, they’ll tell their friends or loved ones but they won’t control the situation. their life is about experiencing things instead on basing themselves on other experiences, they want to know and the diversity of perspectives is a whole galaxy to explore for them. again, it’s not about professions, it’s about their passion. people would judge and say “they’re players and blabla” could be right but that’s not the point, they experience to grow and they’re not afraid of not being perfect -and if they’re they try and they’re brave-.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[killerplink]

Pairing: Higuruma x Nanami x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Words: around 6k

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, threesome, NSFW

Your head snaps towards the cockpit as you hear your name being called. You wonder what it could be—is there a problem, or something else?

As you make your way there, you feel your cheeks getting a little flushed, but you try your best to look composed, more composed than you feel, at least. It's a good thing it's night, and the majority of the passengers and your colleagues are asleep; you've only just started your shift.

When you started this job a little more than a year ago, you didn't expect to fall in love, let alone with two men. Your focus was on your career—being a flight attendant had been a dream since childhood.

When you achieved it, you were as proud as you could be. Your love life was in shambles, so you were convinced you were going to be single, at least for a while.

To be fair, you were single for a while, even though you had plenty of guys from your crew trying to get into your pants.

Being surrounded by attractive colleagues on long flights often led to flirtatious encounters and tempting propositions, but none of them ever sparked that elusive connection you craved.

However, that changed quickly when you met two incredibly hot pilots. At first, it was just friendly banter during layovers and occasional drinks after flights.

But as you spent more time together, you found yourselves drawn to each other in ways you hadn't anticipated. The chemistry was undeniable, and before you knew it, casual conversations turned into lingering glances and stolen moments.

Eventually, the lines between friendship and something more blurred, and you found yourselves entangled in a passionate and quite unconventional relationship.

Navigating the complexities of being in a three-way relationship was surprisingly easy, given the fact that both guys were bisexual and also had a mutual attraction to each other.

The love and connection you shared was unlike anything you've ever experienced in any relationships you had before.

They weren't jealous of each other, nor did they vie for your attention. Instead, they complemented each other perfectly, and everything you shared united you in a bond that surpassed traditional notions of romance.

At first, you thought that maybe it would be a little bit weird, but you've been proven wrong. The dynamic between the three of you felt natural and effortless, as if you were always meant to be together.

Keeping your relationship under wraps at work added an extra layer of excitement and secrecy to your dynamic. While it might have been tempting to share the details of your love triangle with your closest colleagues, you all agreed that it was best to keep it private to avoid any potential complications or gossip.

As you approach the cockpit, your heart beats a little faster with anticipation. You wonder what awaits you this time on the other side of that door—perhaps a request for assistance with an inflight issue, or maybe just a casual chat during the quiet moments of the flight.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knock gently on the door before entering. Nanami and Hiromi turn to greet you with warm smiles, but their eyes twinkle with mischief.

"What's up, guys?" you ask casually, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Despite the familiarity and comfort that comes with being together for over six months, they still have the ability to make you feel like a lovesick teenager, completely swept away by their affection. You can't help but marvel at how they reciprocate those feelings with equal intensity.

It's evident in the way their eyes light up when they look at you, in the tenderness of their touches, and in the whispered words of adoration that escape their lips. Just like you, they too feel like lovesick teenagers, completely captivated by the love and connection you share.

"We just wanted to see your pretty face, baby," Hiromi teases, making you blush slightly.

"Yeah?" you purr, giggling as he pursues his lips to steal a little kiss.

"What about me, sweetheart?" Nanami chuckles, his voice warm and playful.

"What about you?" you tease, feigning innocence.

"Such a little brat," he sighs, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer, capturing your lips.

Your heart flutters as Nanami's lips meet yours, a wave of warmth spreading through you at the familiar touch. When he deepens the kiss, your breathing picks up, just a little, but it's enough for the throbbing to begin between your legs.

You absolutely love their personalities; each is amazing in their own way. Hiromi is more like a calm ocean, steady and deep. He doesn't need to say much; his presence alone is enough to make you feel safe and loved.

Nanami, on the other hand, is like a blazing fire, all passion and intensity. When he kisses you, it's as if he's trying to consume you whole, his desire burning bright in his eyes. Nonetheless, you feel safe, secure and cherished with both of them.

In the bedroom, they're both on the soft side of domination, but you can't let that fool you, as you were proved again and again. Hiromi's commands are whispered like sweet promises, igniting a fire within you, while Nanami's touches are firm yet gentle, coaxing your body with just the right amount of pressure. And their praise, oh God, it's enough to make you melt into a puddle.

As you pull away, he licks his lips slowly, and you know your cheeks are pink, you can feel the blood rushing up to them.

He chuckles lightly and pats on the seat in between them. "Take a seat, doll."

"I should go back—" you begin to say, but Nanami interrupts you.

"We were just thinking..." he says, his voice low and husky, "that we could use a little... company in here. We're just about to take a break."

You hesitate for a moment, glancing towards the closed cockpit door. "I don't know if I should—"

"Just tell Sarah we need some help in here, baby. It's not the first time you've helped," Nanami reassures you with a chuckle.

Taking a deep breath, you nod and slip out of the cockpit. The dimly lit cabin is quiet, with most of the passengers and crew members asleep in their seats or resting in the crew area. Spotting Sarah, your fellow flight attendant, you approach her quietly.

"They need my help in the cockpit a little," you whisper, hoping not to disturb the sleeping passengers.

"Oh, good. I was a little anxious that they might need mine when I saw you coming back, and you know, I'm still new and don't know much about those matters," she says innocently.

"Don't worry about it, I've got it. Are you gonna be okay in here?" you ask smiling warmly at her.

"Yes, absolutely," she assures.

"If you have any troubles—" you begin, but she interrupts you.

"I won't, but I know what to do in case it happens, don't worry about me. Now go, don't keep them waiting," she says, looking at you sheepishly.

With a tinge of guilt nagging at the back of your mind, you excuse yourself and head back to the cockpit. If Sarah knew exactly why they needed your help, she might not be as understanding, but ignorance is bliss for now. You push aside the guilt, focusing on the task at hand as you reenter the cockpit to assist your men.

As you settle into your seat between Hiromi and Nanami, you catch their knowing glances and the subtle spark of anticipation in their eyes. You realize with a jolt what they're really asking for, and a flush of excitement courses through you.

Nanami's hand snakes its way up and down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is gentle yet possessive, and your lips part a little, tiny breaths leaving your mouth.

Hiromi leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs softly. "We've been waiting for you to start your shift, doll."

You feel the heat already pooling in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your nipples hardening under your clothes, your panties dampening in anticipation.

"This new uniform of yours..." Nanami begins, his hand tracing the hemline of your shorter skirt, "it makes it so hard to focus in here, my love."

Your stomach flutters at his words, anticipation coiling within you as you feel the heat building between the three of you.

"N-Nanami..." you whisper shakily.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple, scattering soft kisses across your face.

His fingers trail higher, skimming over the fabric of your panties and tights. You gasp softly at the sensation, spreading your legs a little more, giving him easier access, your breath hitching as his touch ignites a fire within you. Each soft, teasing touch, sends jolts of pleasure through your body, leaving you craving more.

"What do you want, baby?" he asks, his breath warm against the skin of your neck.

"I want..." you start, your voice barely a whisper as nothing but pure desire clouds your mind. "I want both of you... to t-touch me..."

All it ever takes is a little coaxing. God, they love how responsive you are.

"Such an obedient little girl," he praises, smiling softly.

Hiromi's hand cups your cheek and his soft lips find yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before slipping it into your mouth. Nanami's hands roam over your body, teasing and arousing every inch of your skin they touch.

"Do you have replacements for these?" Nanami asks as he continues to move his fingers over the fabric of your tights and the panties covering your throbbing pussy.

"Y-yeah..." you mumble, shivering slightly when Hiromi cups one of your breasts through your button-up shirt.

"Good," Nanami says, and the next thing you feel is the gentle tearing of your tights. "Can I, sweet girl?" he asks, tracing the outline of your slit slowly.

You nod wordlessly, and as Nanami slips his fingers under the fabric of your drenched panties, pushing them to the side, you gasp at the sensation, your body already buzzing with anticipation. Hiromi's hands deftly unbutton your shirt, revealing your thin lace bra.

His hands are big compared to you, his long fingers dancing over soft flesh, running lightly over the fabric of your bra. Your nipples are hard under the mesh, and he teases them, feeling you shudder each time he runs his fingers over them.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart. Can I see more of you?" he asks softly, his eyes filled with adoration.

You nod eagerly, granting him permission without hesitation. You'd think that after all this time they wouldn't ask for consent, but they do, every time.

They always want to make sure that you feel good and comfortable. Whether at home, in a hotel, or in more public spaces like this cockpit, their concern for your well-being never wavers.

Their consideration for your comfort and pleasure speaks volumes about the depth of their care for you. It's a level of attentiveness that you love and appreciate, knowing that they really prioritize your needs and desires above everything else.

He pulls the bra down gently, stretching the flexible fabric until it's resting under your breasts, leaving you exposed to him. The cool air brushes against your skin, causing your nipples to harden instantly, pebbling against the sudden chill. You feel a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks as you realize just how vulnerable you are in this moment, yet the thrill of his gaze locked on you makes your heart race.

His eyes darken with desire as they roam over your body, taking in the soft curves of your breasts, the way they spill slightly over the edge, the delicate lines of your figure. You can feel the weight of his gaze, igniting a fire deep inside you. It's a mix of shyness and exhilaration, the way he looks at you, like you're the only thing that matters in that moment.

He leans in closer, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you. The sensation is electric, sending tingles coursing through your body. His fingers are gentle yet firm, kneading and teasing as he explores every contour, igniting a hunger deep within you.

With every touch, every stroke, your body responds eagerly, your nipples straining against his palms, craving more of his attention. You can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken tension building as he revels in the sight of you, completely exposed and utterly receptive to his desires.

"Let me take care of you," he murmurs, and you can barely nod, lost in the haze of sensation as he continues to explore, his touch igniting a fire that only he can quench.

"So pretty," Hiromi murmurs, dipping his head down and latching his lips onto one of your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive flesh.

The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, heightening your senses. You can't help but arch your back slightly, instinctively pushing your chest forward, craving his touch.

Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure straight to your pussy. Meanwhile, Nanami groans as he slides one finger inside you, feeling your walls clench tightly around it. The slick warmth envelops his finger effortlessly, the way your body responds to him only heightening the desire swirling between you. You can feel just how wet you are, each tiny movement releasing more of your juices, coating his fingers as he begins to explore.

As he eases another long finger into your dripping pussy, you moan softly, the sensation sending delicious shivers coursing through your body. The stretch is exquisite, filling you in a way that leaves you craving more. His fingers are skilled and patient, teasing you as he pushes them deep inside, curling them just right to find that sensitive spot nestled within you.

His thumb moves to your puffy clit, tracing small, slippery circles that send waves of pleasure shooting straight into your brain. Each touch sends jolts of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire deep in your core. You can feel yourself melting under his ministrations, your breath quickening as your body reacts instinctively to the pleasure he's giving you.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You can feel the delicious fullness of him, your body quivering around his digits as they pump in and out, each thrust deep and deliberate. You whimper, the sound escaping your lips unbidden, as he hits just the right spot over and over again, drawing out soft moans that echo in the air around you.

Your hips instinctively start to grind against his hand, seeking more of that sweet friction, more of that relentless pleasure. It feels so good, so right, and you can't help but get lost in the sensations, the way his fingers delve into your slick heat, the way he takes his time to coax every response from you. You're completely at his mercy, and every thrust, every flick of his thumb against your clit only heightens the intensity, leaving you craving release.

You're so wet that slick collects all over the base of his fingers, but God, he loves it. He'd love it even more if he could taste you right now, but he'll have to wait until later for that.

Hiromi continues his work on your breasts, his mouth hot, wet and eager as he lavishes attention on your sensitive nipples. His kisses, nips and sucks alternate, goosebumps prickling across your skin with each touch.

The combined sensations from both of them are almost overwhelming, driving you rapidly towards the brink of release. But that's how it usually goes. They know how to touch you, how to tease you, leaving you trembling and begging for more.

You hiss in pleasure as Nanami's fingers curl inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl over and over again. Every stroke, every movement sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, building the tension within you to a fever pitch.

"Oh God, right there," you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own moans.

"You're so close, baby, aren't you?" Hiromi whispers, his breath hot against your skin, and you nod faintly. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

With one final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his thumb, Nanami pushes you over the edge, and you come undone. The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and consuming, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body shakes with the force of your release, every muscle quivering as the sensation pulses through you.

A high-pitched cry escapes your lips, mingling with the sound of your racing heart. You can feel the heat pooling in your core, spreading like wildfire through your veins, igniting every nerve ending. His fingers seem to know just how to work you, driving you higher as your walls clench around him in waves, desperately seeking more of that delicious friction.

You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your vision blurring as your head tilts back, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Each tremor sends shockwaves of bliss radiating through your body, leaving you feeling breathless and exhilarated. It's as if time stands still, and all that exists is the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, the way your body responds to their touch.

"Nanami," you moan his name, your voice thick with desperation, clinging to the edge of reality as he works you through the high, his fingers never relenting.

You can feel the warmth of your release spilling around his digits, slick and messy, further igniting your desire. Your body relaxes, trembling as you come down from the peak, and you lean against him, gasping for breath, a smile breaking through the haze of pleasure.

"That's it, love, you did so good," he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours, parting them at the same time with you, twirling his tongue around yours as you come down from your high, his fingers still fucking you slowly. "You're so pretty when you cum..." he says against your lips.

After the last tremors of your orgasm fade away and his fingers are licked clean, you feel a sense of bliss wash over you, and you feel adored as they continue to praise you, caress your body softly and pepper you with tender kisses.

"What do you want now, baby?" Nanami asks softly, his fingers stroking your cheek sweetly.

"I want you inside me," you reply breathlessly, feeling a new rush of desire pooling into your stomach.

"Yeah?" he purrs, pinching one of your nipples gently.

You nod, letting your hand glide over his muscular chest and right onto the bulge in his pants, stroking and squeezing his dick gently, feeling it twitch beneath your fingertips.

You look back at Hiromi, who nods reassuringly, silently indicating that he doesn't mind if you start with Nanami first. God, you love these two so much.

"Do you want to sit on me, sweetheart?" Nanami asks, his breath hitching as you continue to stroke his throbbing cock.

You smile and nod, getting up from the seat and allowing him to pull your skirt up.

"Let's try not to make a mess on it, alright, baby?" he chuckles, his fingers tracing along the edge of your skirt as he guides you closer to him.

You watch him with darkened eyes as he takes his cock out, stroking himself a few times. His hand moves slowly, deliberately, and you can see the glistening precum pooling at the tip, which he smears down his length, coating the shaft in a slick layer of moisture. The way his fingers wrap around his cock, firm and sure, ignites a fire in your core, your breath hitching as you take in the sight.

The sight sends a jolt of arousal through you, making your pulse race. You can't help but bite your lip, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. It's a primal, intimate moment that sends your thoughts spiraling into a haze of desire. Your body responds instinctively, heat pooling between your thighs, making you feel even wetter.

With a soft moan, you shift in your seat and sit down in his lap, straddling him. As you do, you can feel his hard, hot length pressing against your pussy, the firm heat sending shivers of anticipation through you. You let out a breathy gasp, feeling every inch of him as he nudges against your slick folds.

The pressure is intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure through your body, igniting the need within you to feel him deeper. You rock your hips slightly, teasingly, craving more contact, the sensation of him so close making your head spin with need.

They're both muscular, tall and particularly well-endowed, and though it was a bit of a struggle at first, they've always made sure to prepare you, stretching and teasing you until you're dripping wet and ready for them. Now, when they fill you completely, you can't help but gasp and moan at the sensation of being so thoroughly filled and stretched.

Nanami's big hands grip your hips possessively as you grind against him, seeking that sweet friction that drives you both insane.

"Please, baby, don't tease me like that," he almost begs, positioning his twitching dick against your slick entrance.

You smile softly and sink down onto his thick cock, feeling him stretch you as he fills you up, inch by inch, until he's fully sheathed inside you. The sensation is blissful, a perfect mix of fullness and heat that makes your body tingle with pleasure. Your slick walls eagerly swallow him, wrapping around him as if craving more, squeezing him tightly with each movement.

A breathy moan escapes his lips as your walls clench around him, tugging and pulling him deeper, the feeling intoxicating. You can sense his pleasure rising, his body reacting to the way you fit him so perfectly. His hands guide your movements, fingers digging into your hips as he helps set a steady pace. You ride him with a mix of urgency and longing, the friction sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through you.

Every thrust deepens the connection, his cock brushing against your sensitive spots, igniting waves of pleasure that make your head spin. You can feel the way your body craves him, eager to take every inch, every stroke, and you can't help but move faster, desperate for more of that delicious sensation.

"You feel so good, love," Nanami moans, and you can't help but nod eagerly, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock to speak.

You lean in to kiss him, your pussy clenching around him when he sucks on your tongue gently.

With each thrust, you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air like a rhythmic pulse of desire. Your moans intertwine with Nanami's deep groans of pleasure, creating an erotic symphony that drives you both higher and higher, urging you to push the limits of your bodies.

You find a steady rhythm, rolling your hips and grinding down onto him, relishing in the way his cock fills you completely. Every time you sink down, the delicious pressure sends a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much; it makes you feel empowered, every movement you make drawing you closer together.

You can feel your slick juices dripping down his shaft, coating him in your arousal and making each movement smoother and more slippery. The sensation of him sliding in and out is almost hypnotic; the way your walls cling to him as he pulls back sends your senses reeling, making you crave him even more.

As you pick up the pace, the heat between your bodies escalates, every thrust becoming more desperate, more frantic. You're lost in the rhythm, in the way he fills you perfectly, and the way he responds to your every movement. You can hear the way your bodies meet, the wet sounds echoing around you, making everything feel that much more raw and intense.

With every thrust, you can feel the tension coiling tighter in your belly, the need for release hanging just out of reach. You lean forward, pressing your chest against him, feeling his warm breath against your skin as you push deeper, your clit brushing against him, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

"God, you feel so good," you gasp, the words spilling from your lips as you lose yourself in the moment.

You know he feels it too, his hands gripping your waist tighter, urging you on, and you respond by moving faster, harder, feeling that familiar tension building inside you.

As he continues to thrust into you effortlessly, his cock hitting all the right spots, you find yourself overcome with a need for more. With shaky hands, you reach for Hiromi, fumbling with the buckle of his belt to release his straining erection from its confines.

He hesitates for a moment, but the desperation in your eyes urges him forward, and he gets up from his seat sheepishly, until his cock is basically inches away from your face.

"Baby, I'm okay, I—" he begins, but the intensity of your gaze makes him swallow his words.

Your fingers trail along the length of his shaft, feeling the heat and hardness of him against your skin, as Nanami's firm grip keeps your body in place, ensuring he can keep fucking you at a deep and steady pace.

With a hungry moan, you lean in, eagerly taking his throbbing cock into your mouth, savoring the salty tang of his arousal. Your lips wrap tightly around him, creating a seal as you begin to suck and swirl your tongue around his pulsating length. You tease the sensitive underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue, tracing patterns along his veins that drive him absolutely insane.

"God, sweetheart, you're so good," he murmurs. "Just like that, fuck..." he moans.

With your hair tied back, Hiromi grabs your ponytail, guiding you with gentle pressure as he sets the rhythm of your movements. You feel a rush of excitement as you take him into your mouth, his warmth filling you completely. The moment he slides past your lips, you let out a soft moan, the vibrations sending a thrill through his body. He groans softly, the sound low and primal, as you suck him deeper, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking more of him in.

As he begins to buck his hips, fucking your mouth with a slow and steady pace, you can feel the heat radiating from him. Each thrust pushes his cock deeper into your throat, and the way he fills you completely makes you feel so full, so wanted. You instinctively tighten your lips around him, creating a delicious suction that drives him wild. His hands grip your hair, not roughly but possessively, guiding you as he finds his rhythm.

You can hear the soft, desperate sounds escaping him with every thrust, the way he loses himself in the pleasure you're giving him. His movements become more frantic, each thrust sending him deeper, causing soft gagging noises to escape your throat that seem to encourage him further. God, you're absolutely living for it. The primal desire in his gaze makes you feel powerful, and you crave to hear more of his sounds of pleasure, more of his praises.

You pull back slightly to catch your breath, letting your tongue flicker over the sensitive head of his cock, teasing him just enough before you take him back into your mouth. You feel the way his body tenses, the way he fights to hold back his own release, but you're determined to bring him to the edge. You watch him with darkened eyes, feeling a thrill course through you as you suck him with fervor, each movement slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of him.

His hips begin to move faster, more erratic, and you can feel the tension building in his body as he loses himself in the sensation. "God, just like that," he breathes, his voice strained, and it sends a wave of heat through you.

You hum in response, the vibrations causing him to shudder as you take him deeper, your throat tightening around him. The combination of his thrusts and the pressure of your mouth pushes you to the edge of ecstasy, the way his cock fills you, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

You can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the need to please him driving you on, making you crave more. You lock your gaze with his, the intensity of the moment fueling your desire as you give in to the pleasure of it all, your body reacting instinctively to every thrust, every sound, every pulse of his cock in your mouth.

"That's it, doll, keep going. You feel so amazing," he murmurs, causing your brain to shut down completely.

His cock grows slick with your saliva, the slippery sensation making it easier for him to slide in and out of your mouth. You eagerly bob your head, spurred on by his praises, taking him as deep as you can with each motion, your tongue swirling around him occasionally.

"Ah, fuck..." he gasps, his fingers tightening into your hair.

The combined pleasure of being filled from both ends sends waves of pure bliss coursing through your body. You feel Hiromi's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the thick length stretching you as he fucks your throat with a steady rhythm. Each thrust forces you to take him deeper, filling you with a mix of pleasure and need as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste of his precum.

As you moan around Hiromi's cock, the vibrations send a delicious thrill through him, spurring him on to thrust harder. His grip on your ponytail tightens, guiding you as he finds the perfect rhythm, each push of his hips matching the desperate need that wells up inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, harmonizing with your muffled moans.

At the same time, Nanami's powerful thrusts fill your pussy, his thick cock stretching you deliciously as he claims you. Each deep stroke hits your sweet spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core, making your entire body quiver with need. The way he fills you feels raw, his pace relentless and intoxicating, driving you further into ecstasy.

The heat builds within you as both men work you over, their bodies moving in perfect sync. With every thrust of Nanami's hips, you feel your walls tightening around him, eagerly pulling him deeper, while Hiromi’s relentless pace in your mouth has you gasping for air. The sensation of being used so completely, so thoroughly, sends you spiraling closer to the edge.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening, the overwhelming pleasure blending into a single, electrifying pulse that centers around the dual sensations. You’re utterly lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the way they take you—Hiromi's hot cock filling your mouth, making it feel impossibly full, while Nanami stretches your pussy wide, his thrusts deep and firm.

You can't help but writhe against them, the pleasure consuming you as you surrender completely. Their moans of pleasure mix with your own, creating an erotic symphony that drives you further into bliss. You're caught between the two of them, lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding instinctively to their every movement as you teeter on the brink of release.

"You're squeezing me so good, love," Nanami moans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels the tight grip of your slick walls around him.

The sounds in the cockpit are nothing but obscene: flesh slapping against flesh, the wet noises of your mouth and pussy, and the grunts and moans of the three of you.

With each thrust of Nanami's cock and every stroke of Hiromi's length into your mouth, the coil of pleasure within you tightens intensely.

As he keeps pounding into you, Nanami's hand starts to wander, exploring more of your trembling body. His fingers trail down from your hip to your ass, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

You moan around Hiromi's cock when Nanami's middle finger traces small, teasing circles around your tight hole. The sensation sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you push your hips back, eager for more.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" Nanami cooes, but he knows the answer even before you say it.

He can feel your pussy clamping down on him with every circle he traces, your body practically begging for his touch. The way you writhe above him, desperate for more, drives him wild with desire. Each gentle stroke makes you moan louder, the sound of your pleasure echoing in the air, urging him to push further.

You hum in approval, your moans vibrating around Hiromi's dick as Nanami slowly slips his middle finger inside, stretching you gently as he explores the tight heat of your ass. The sensation is intoxicating, each deliberate thrust sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. He curls his finger, pressing against that sensitive spot, and you can’t help but gasp at the sudden surge of pleasure.

"It's so tight," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with lust.

He relishes the way your body reacts to his touch, how your walls flutter around his finger, squeezing him as if you're trying to pull him deeper. It's so hot in your pussy, hot in your ass; he feels like he died and went straight to Heaven. The warmth enveloping his finger is a heady mix of arousal and need, and he can't resist the urge to tease you further.

He pumps his finger slowly, watching as your body betrays you, trembling with each movement. The way your hips instinctively buck against him, seeking more friction, sends a jolt of excitement through him. Nanami leans closer, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he takes his time, teasing you with just the right amount of pressure.

You can feel every inch of him inside you, the sensation of being filled adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your heart races as he continues to explore, curling and twisting his finger to find that perfect spot, each motion drawing you closer to the edge.

Your body is an open invitation, ready and willing to take everything he's willing to give. The combination of sensations—the fullness of Hiromi's cock in your mouth, Nanami's cock deep inside your needy pussy, and the gentle teasing of Nanami's finger in your ass—creates a dizzying whirlwind of pleasure that has you gasping for more.

But it's always been like this since you started being a throuple. The trust, the passion, and the genuine care for each other have only grown stronger with time.

As Hiromi approaches his climax, his thrusts become a little more urgent, his cock throbbing against the back of your throat with each movement. You can feel the tension building within him, and you can tell that he's close. Sure enough, he speaks a few moments later.

"I'm almost there, baby. You want to swallow it?" he pants.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, your mouth still wrapped around his pulsating length, and you nod, eager to taste him. With a guttural groan, he gives one final, deep thrust, burying his cock deep inside your mouth as he spills his hot, sticky release.

The warmth fills your mouth, and you can feel the thick, creamy texture of his cum coating your tongue and sliding down your throat. You swallow every drop around his cock, relishing in the taste of him as he rides out his orgasm, the salty flavor igniting a fire of satisfaction within you.

His release floods your mouth, and you can't help but moan around him, sending delicious vibrations through his length. As he thrusts one last time, you savor the moment, enjoying the way he twitches in your mouth, the heat of him pulsing against your tongue.

As his climax subsides, he pulls slowly out of your mouth with a contented sigh, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. His thumb brushes gently over your lips, wiping away any remaining liquids. He carefully tucks his cock back into his pants, leaning in to kiss you softly in reward.

You feel Nanami's relentless thrusts driving you closer and closer to the edge. His finger, slick with your arousal, keeps gliding in and out of your ass, adding another layer of overwhelming pleasure.

You moan into Hiromi's mouth, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue as you desperately try to hold on just a little longer. His lips move against yours, hot and hungry, but Nanami doesn't relent in his assault on your senses. The pressure building inside you is too much, and with a loud wail, you let go. Your entire body convulses with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over you like an overwhelming tide.

Your ass pulses around Nanami's finger, the sensation sending shocks of ecstasy straight to your core. Each thrust of his cock fills you so deep, the head brushing against that sweet spot inside you, making your pussy clamp down hard around him as he fucks you through it. The way he drives into you, relentless and unyielding, makes your whole body quiver in his embrace.

You can't hold back the desperate cries that slip from your lips as you ride the high of your orgasm, your body still trembling, still clenching around him. Your senses are flooded with pleasure, and every thrust from Nanami pushes you further, making you feel every inch of him. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together, the lewd squelching of your soaked pussy, fills the air, mingling with your moans and gasps.

"Such a good girl for me," he whispers, swearing under his breath as your walls grip him over and over again.

Even as you slowly come down from your high, Hiromi holds you close, his lips still pressed against yours in a tender kiss. Nanami slows down a little bit, his thrusts becoming slower and more deliberate as he approaches his own release.

You can feel his body tensing up, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his release. It feels so good inside you, but he thinks it would feel even better if he fucked you full. They pump you full almost every time, and you seem to absolutely love it, to put it lightly.

"You want my cum, baby?" he asks, panting wildly.

You nod eagerly, craving the feeling of his cum coating your puffy walls. You break the kiss with Hiromi, capturing Nanami's lips instead, brushing your tongue against his softly.

You're still pulsing faintly around his cock when he finally reaches his peak, the tension in his body coiling tight before it snaps. His hips stutter as he buries himself deep inside you, and you can feel the hot pulse of his cum filling you, warm and thick, mixing with your own wetness. Each spurt sends shockwaves through both of you, a raw connection that feels primal and electrifying.

You instinctively tighten around him, milking every last drop as he empties himself into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sensation of him filling you sends another rush of pleasure coursing through your veins, intensifying the bliss that already envelops you. Your body responds eagerly, the warmth of his cum igniting a fire deep within, a reminder of the intimacy you just shared.

As the last tremors of pleasure wash over him, you can feel his heart racing against your chest, the rhythmic thump grounding you both in this moment. Nanami pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively, as if he's trying to shield you from the world outside. His kisses trail softly along the curve of your neck, tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the wildness of what just happened.

"God, you feel amazing," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with satisfaction.

The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, making you arch into him instinctively, craving more of his touch. You can feel his cum seeping out, slick and messy, but neither of you cares—caught in this blissful haze where nothing else matters.

Each brush of his lips against your skin is filled with adoration, and between wet kisses, he whispers sweet praises, telling you how amazing you are and how much he loves you.

Hiromi leans in and kisses your forehead sweetly, his touch gentle and light as he helps you pull your bra back up. Their actions convey a sense of care and tenderness, reassuring you of the love and happiness you share with both of them.

The last echoes of pleasure fade, and as Nanami helps you disentangle yourself from his lap, you can feel his cock slip from your swollen pussy, a slick mixture of your arousal and his cum coating your skin. The sensation is oddly satisfying, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His touches linger, affectionate and gentle, as he pulls you into a warm embrace, his body still radiating heat against yours. You can feel the warmth of his cum dripping down your thigh, a messy reminder of how completely he just filled you.

"God, you feel incredible," he murmurs against your hair, his breath tickling your scalp as he holds you close.

The intimacy of the moment wraps around you like a comforting blanket, and you can’t help but snuggle deeper into him, relishing the security of his arms.

"Feeling okay, sweet girl?" Hiromi asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod, leaning into his touch a little, feeling a sense of calm wash over you in their presence.

Nanami leans in and places a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You did so good, baby," he murmurs, his words filled with genuine adoration.

You let out a soft sigh, a smile spreading across your face as you lean into Hiromi, letting him guide you towards the little bathroom tucked away in the corner of the cockpit. The air is thick with the scent of intimacy and sweat, and you can't help but feel a sense of bliss wash over you.

Once inside, Hiromi gently takes over, his tender smile lighting up the small space. He grabs some wet wipes, and with careful strokes, he cleans you up, wiping away the remnants of your lovemaking. His hands are warm and soothing, and you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the intimacy of the moment settle around you.

Nanami joins in, his fingers brushing softly over your skin as he takes some more wipes to help. He moves with a gentle grace, his touch feather-light as he helps remove the last traces of pleasure from your body. You close your eyes, savoring the way his fingers caress your skin, feeling as if they’re erasing not just the physical remnants of what just happened, but also wrapping you in a cocoon of affection.

"Just relax, baby," Hiromi murmurs, his voice a soft hum against your ear. "We've got you."

You let out a soft giggle, feeling the warmth radiate from both of them. After they finish cleaning you up, they help you tidy yourself, straightening your skirt and adjusting your panties back into place. The sensation of their hands smoothing over your body sends little jolts of pleasure through you, a reminder of the intimacy you just shared.

"Almost perfect," Nanami teases, giving your skirt a little tug to sit just right. You can't help but roll your eyes playfully, a grin breaking across your face.

"Thanks to you two," you reply, feeling a bit shy under their attentive gazes.

"Just looking out for you," Hiromi says with a wink, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "You're always our priority, you know that?"

You nod, a warm blush creeping across your cheeks as you catch their eyes. It feels so good to be cared for like this, and the bond you share deepens with each moment.

With their help, you tidy up, straightening your clothes and fixing your disheveled appearance. As you step back out into the cockpit, you take a moment to appreciate the warmth of their presence, the shared laughter and light teasing filling the air around you.

"After we land and go home," Nanami says softly, his hand finding yours and kissing the back of it, "how about we have a cozy night in, sweetheart? I'll cook us something nice, and we can watch some movies. What do you say?"

"I'd love that," you murmur, pushing yourself up onto the tips of your toes to kiss him before doing the same with Hiromi.

They make sure you're comfortable and composed before you head back into the cabin of the plane, where your duties await.

"Did you finish?" you hear Sarah asking you quietly as you exit the cockpit.

"What?" you stammer, her question catching you off guard, momentarily causing a flutter of panic to rise within you. You can't help but wonder if you were too damn loud.

"With your help..." she murmurs sheepishly, her words trailing off as she gestures vaguely towards the cockpit.

You let out a soft chuckle, realizing she's referring to your assistance in the cockpit.

"Oh, yes, everything's taken care of," you reassure her with a smile, relieved that she doesn't suspect anything beyond that. "Just had a few things to sort out, but they're fine now."

"Glad to hear that," Sarah nods happily, seeming satisfied with your response.

With a sigh of relief, you make your way back into the cabin, ready to resume your duties and keep up appearances as usual.

Here you have the link to her post, so you can see for yourselves WHY I went feral 🫡

This is the first chapter of my Higu-Nana x Reader fic, and you can find the rest on AO3, as the next chapters are much longer 🥹 you can find it here :

[sxorpiomooon]

RAHU

paid readings

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Rāhu (राहु) is the name of an Asura (demon) whose head was cut off by Viṣṇu. When the gods produced the Amṛta by churning the ocean, he disguised himself as a god and drank some of it. But he was detected by the gods and produced before Viṣṇu who cut off his head. Sūrya and Soma (the sun and moon), when noticed him drinking it and realised what was going on immediately told Nārāyaṇa (Viṣṇu), who instantly cut off Rāhu’s head with his discus. As the head contained Amṛta it became immortal and came to represent the ascending nodes of the moon’s orbit. The body of Rāhu, according to the Puranic notion, was called Ketu, and represented the descending nodes. Rāhu is defined according to texts in dealing with śilpa (arts and crafts), known as śilpaśāstras. Rahu is spoken of as the chief of those who have possesing personality. In Buddhism, rahu is defined as a dark monster / planet who is responsible for the phases of the moon by swallowing it. Rahu is supposed to be a mighty and naughty child of maya(illusion) and thus has a lot of dualities attached to its illusory nature.All sorts of poisonous chemicals like fertilizespesticides, and disinfectants are also ruled by rahu. Wherever it sits in your chart it manifests itself exactly like that. Anything that can fool you is rahu whether it's photography or video games. The karma that you are going to create in this life in the future is rahu. The thing that everyone needs to understand about rahu and ketu is that they are both outcast planet they dont act in a certain expected way. They surprise you. Anything that is material and a short cut is rahu. Rahu always wants fame and attention. Rahu is addiction since its obsessed with things bc he has no stomach to see if it has enough. Rahu is always trying to show you the different realm whether its good or bad. Anything that shades out and protects you from the sun is rahu. Wherever rahu aspects it gives something foreign. Anything that explodes.

Rahu in our generation and day to day life

The Internet for me is the biggest rahu example in our daily life now think of something that tends to happen a lot with the internet, illusion whether it's of beauty filters or people lying and then getting caught lying. On the internet we get influenced so easily that also while knowing that things might not exactly be how they are shown. Every once in a while we see random people blowing up on the internet out of nowhere. One of the biggest examples is that the internet is often used to spread lies and misinformation regarding things which is what rahu is. The influencers or the people that get popular are unconventional in some way whether it's regarding their way of living or them just dropping out of college and choosing to take a career path(living as an influencer) that is not something that is usually done by the people in the society. Good and strong rahu placements are also seen in famous and successful politicians and businessmen and they are ALL clever people most of the time spreading lies(politicians). We also see cats being very popular or all of a sudden being loved by the internet and cats are rahu as well. We also see people that make good edits or take good photographs blowing up on the internet as this is also ruled by rahu especially when it's foreign places as that's ALSO rahu. In india, if you guys are familiar with the ancient history "baniyas" aka businessmen or traders were naturally seen by the society as people that were "unconventional" or "non traditional" because they were starting something that was unconventional to the society that's also rahu. People breaking traffic rules is also rahu. This generation is ruled by rahu, we break rules, lie, break the traditional norms, drink and smoke etc.

I hope this post helps in your understanding of what rahu is as it's a very interesting planet alongside saturn.

[cherryredlove]

☆ fair verona ☆

Modern! au Helaena Targaryen x female Reader SMUT

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Spurred by your best friend Cregan, you audtion to be a brave for the role of Romeo. Learning your lines is so much easier when your Juliet is also your longtime crush.

Word Count: 2.8k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, poetic lesbian smex, oral smex, face riding, titty sucking, praise, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, nice fluff tho

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The corridors of Blackwater University echo with the chatter of students bustling between classes. You find yourself standing at the notice board in the main hall, staring at the flyer announcing this year’s play: Romeo and Juliet. It’s tradition for the Drama Department to host an annual production, and this time, they’ve decided on Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy. You long to try out, but the fear of rejection is too strong.

“Thinking of trying out?” A familiar voice breaks your reverie. Cregan Stark, your best friend since forever and classmate in Valyrian History and Linguistics, appears beside you, flashing a teasing grin.

You shrug, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage.”

“You’d be great,” he insists, nudging you encouragingly. “Besides, imagine being a brave and playing Romeo. You would wow the entire audience!”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle at his enthusiasm. Despite your reservations, you can’t deny the allure of the stage, the thrill of applause. And there’s another reason you’re considering it—a certain someone whose presence in the hallways never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

Helaena Targaryen, the ethereal beauty with her signature silver-blonde hair and pale eyes. You’ve harboured a quiet admiration for her, watching from afar without the guts to ask her out. You watch as she signs her name on the flyer, her friends cheering.

“Well, if you think so,” you concede finally, feeling a sense of determination. “I’ll give it a shot.” Cregan knocks you with his shoulder as you write out your name before dragging you to class.

The auditions are held in the university’s grand theatre, an antique hall with velvet seats and ornate chandeliers. As you wait for your turn, you catch a glimpse of Helaena. She’s sitting a few rows ahead, surrounded by friends, yet eyes looking ahead, lost in her thoughts.

When your name is called, you step onto the stage with a flutter of nerves. The audition goes smoothly, and the moment you finish, you feel a wave of exhilaration. Whether or not you get the part, you’ve taken the plunge.

A few days later, the cast list is posted. As you scan the names, your breath catches in your throat:

Romeo: [Your Name]

Juliet: Helaena Targaryen

A mix of excitement and nervousness floods your system. Cregan is ecstatic when he hears the news, clapping you on the back with congratulations.

“You’re going to be amazing, I'm getting a front row seat,” he assures you. “And maybe this is the chance you need to finally talk to her. My best gal needs some action, I bet it's got cobwebs down there!" Cregan laughs at his own joke, and then he yowls when you punch his arm in retaliation.

��� • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet are underway before you know it. The director, Professor Harrold Westerling, is known for his passionate and somewhat unconventional methods. He often goes off on ranting tangents about his career as a thespian with the famous theatre group, the Kingsguards.

From the first rehearsal, Helaena proves to be a star. She’s a natural on stage, her performance enchanting and her characterisation of Juliet breathtaking. You can’t help but be drawn to her, and the scenes where your characters interact are charged with an undeniable chemistry.

“Romeo,” she says one afternoon, her voice just as lyrical as Shakespeare intended. “Deny thy father and refuse thy name.” You find yourself caught in her gaze. Her eyes, like amethysts, hold a challenge.

“Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet,” you respond, the words rolling off your tongue with ease.

Helaena smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes. It’s a look that suggests she sees more than you reveal, a look that makes your heart race.

Between scenes, she’s charming and playful, often catching you off guard with her flirtatious banter. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing the spotlight,” she teases one day as you stand outside smoking during a break, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and passing you her energy drink to take a sip from.

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her attention. “I think we can share it.”

Her presence is intoxicating, and each rehearsal leaves you dreaming for the next. Cregan notices your growing attachment and offers his support, often helping you rehearse lines late into the night. He insists on wearing a wig he nicked from his sister to play Juliet, much to your amusement.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The night of the play arrives, and the theatre buzzes with excitement. Backstage, the cast is a flurry of activity, adjusting costumes and going over last-minute notes. You can feel the energy in the air, a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Helaena stands beside you, radiant in her Juliet costume. She looks every bit the part, ethereal and beautiful. “Ready for tonight?” she asks, her eyes meeting yours.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “As ready as I’ll ever be."

Her smile is reassuring, and she reaches out to hold your hand. You squeeze it tightly.

The curtain rises, and the play unfolds seamlessly. Each scene flows into the next, the audience captivated by the tragic tale of star-crossed lovers. Your chemistry with Helaena is unreal, each interaction charged with emotion and intensity.

Finally, the pivotal moment arrives—the kiss. As Romeo and Juliet, your characters share a tender, passionate kiss on stage. The audience holds its breath, and you spy Cregan sniffling into a tissue in the front row.

When your lips meet, time seems to slow. There’s a spark, an electric connection that goes beyond the script. The kiss lingers, and you sense something shift between you, an unspoken understanding.

As the performance comes to a close, the audience erupts into applause, and the theatre is filled with cheers and whistles. You take your bows, Helaena gripping your hand tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of the performance still fresh in your mind.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The Targaryen twins, Baela and Rhaena, Helaena's close friends, throw a celebratory party at their house in the centre of King's Landing. The place is alive with music and laughter, students spilling into the garden and onto the balconies.

You arrive with Cregan, who promptly disappears into the crowd to try and see his own crush Jace, leaving you to navigate the throng of partygoers.

You find Helaena in the living room, surrounded by friends yet somehow separate, her presence commanding the room. She’s out of her costume now, dressed in a blue dress and a navy cardigan that accentuates her beauty.

When she sees you, her face lights up with a genuine smile. “There’s the star of the night,” she calls out, her voice carrying over the music. She holds out a bottle of Asshai beer for you to take.

You approach, feeling a rush of warmth at her words. “I think that title belongs to you.”

She laughs. “You were incredible tonight,” she says, her gaze unwavering. She takes your elbow, leading you slightly away from her friends. “That kiss… it felt real.”

You hesitate, the memory of the moment still vivid in your mind. “It did, didn’t it?”

There’s a pause, a charged silence filled with unspoken words. Around you, the party continues, but your focus remains solely on Helaena.

“Do you want to get some air?” she suggests, gesturing towards the garden.

Nodding, you follow her outside, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat of the party. The garden is illuminated by strings of fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the scene.

Helaena leads you to a quiet corner, away from the noise and commotion. She takes out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You pull out a sparkly lighter, lighting hers and yours. She nods in gratitude. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she admits, her voice softer now.

Your heart races. You exhale shakily. “About the play?”

She shakes her head, a playful smile on her lips. “About us.”

There it is, the moment you’ve both been dancing around for weeks. The admission hangs in the air thickly.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” she confesses, her eyes searching yours. “I’ve always thought there was something special about you.”

Her words leave you breathless, a mix of surprise and elation flooding your senses. “I’ve felt the same way,” you admit, the truth spilling forth. “Ever since I saw you in the hallways during freshers week, I knew there was something about you that drew me in.

Helaena steps closer, her hand reaching for yours, smoke drifitng into the sky from her pink parted lips.

“What do you say we make this more than just a stage romance?” she suggests, her tone sincere.

You nod quickly, lips cracking into a smile. Helaena grins as well, the pair of you standing staring at each other goofily. She ashes out her cig, and you follow.

"Cmon," Helaena tugs your hand. "Let's go back to mine."

Helaena's room is perfectly her. Fairylights everywhere, lace curtains, the rich smell of incense in the air. You see bookshelves crammed with books, crystals, and plants. The walls are covered with posters and photographs of her with her friends.

Your gaze settled on the centrepiece of the room: a large, canopied bed draped in sheer, flowing curtains. The bed was covered in a soft, plush quilt.

Helaena released your hand and moved gracefully across the room, lighting a few candles perched on her windowsill. The warm glow illuminated her face, casting shadows that accentuated her high cheekbones and the lovely quality of her violet eyes.

Helaena reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against your cheek, her touch as gentle as the brush of silk. Slowly, almost as if testing the waters, she leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours. With a gentle touch, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. Her hands slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the embrace.

Your hands rested on her hips, pulling her body flush against yours. The softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch, and the sweet scent of her hair all combined to create a heaven of Helaena.

Finally, after what felt like both an instant and a lifetime, you pulled back slightly.

Helaena smiled, her fingers tracing gently along your jawline. "I’ve wanted to do that for a while," she confessed, a playful glint in her eyes.

You laughed softly, a sense of pure relief washing over you. "I’m glad you did."

"Do you know how long I've wanted this? Us?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the curtains in the breeze.

Your heart races. "I think I have an idea," you reply, your voice equally hushed. Your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her soft silver hair as you pull her to you once more, your lips meeting hers in a fervent kiss.

This time, there is no hesitation, no lingering questions—only a shared hunger to taste each other, to consume. Helaena's hands slide over your shoulders, her touch light but insistent as she presses herself against you. You feel her fingers tracing a path down your spine, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you respond in kind, your hands exploring the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin beneath the fabric of her dress. Helaena gasps into your mouth, adding fuel to the fire that has been burning between your legs.

As the kiss intensifies, Helaena guides you backwards toward the bed, her movements graceful and sure. You lose yourself in her touch, her scent, the sound of her soft gasps as your hands roam her body.

The edge of the bed meets the backs of your legs, and you sit down, drawing her into your lap. She straddles you, her dress flowing around her like liquid, the fabric cool against your heated skin. The sensation of her thighs pressing against yours sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

Helaena breaks the kiss. Her lips are slightly swollen from the intensity of your kisses, and her breath comes in soft, ragged bursts.

"Is this okay?" she asks. You can feel the heat of her pussy through her panties. You shift, desperate to touch her.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from her. "More than okay," you murmur, your voice thick.

Her smile is a thing of beauty. "Good," she replies simply, before leaning in to capture your lips once more, her movements fluid, as if she knows exactly how to draw every ounce of pleasure from you. Helaena's hands roam over your shoulders and down your chest, her touch igniting every nerve ending.

You mirror her movements, your fingers trailing along the line of her jaw, down the delicate column of her neck, and across her collarbone. She shivers beneath your touch, moaning as you cup her breasts through her dress. You feel a surge of pride at how you also have an effect on her.

With a gentle tug, Helaena draws the straps of her dress from her shoulders, letting the fabric pool around her waist.

"You are so beautiful," you murmur, the words escaping you.

Helaena's cheeks flush pink, and she ducks her head slightly, clearly pleased by your compliment. To thank you, she places your hands upon her perked tits once more, begging you silently to touch her. She arches against you, her body pliant and eager.

Your hands move, exploring the gentle curves of her body, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, all while she responds with a fervour that matches your own. You pull off your own dress, bearing yourself to her. Helaena's eyes speak her approval, and she pushes your shoulders down to lie on top of you.

You can feel the wetness of her pussy seep through her panties, leaving dampness on your hips. You remove the delicate lace, pulling your own off too. The both of you completely nude, Helaena begins grinding her bare pussy against yours. A moan gets caught in her throat as her clit grinds down against yours. Helaena throws her silvery head back, gasping as you lean up to flick your tongue against her tits. You suck lightly, the other one being tweaked by your hands. You feel a hot warmth begin to build in your sex, and a desperation to make Helaena cum.

Helaena gropes your own tits, moaning appreciatively.

You grab her hips, flipping her over onto her back to lie against the bed. She spreads her legs, fingers grazing between her labia to show you her soaked hole. Your eyes darken at the sight, and you lower your mouth onto her sopping pussy. Helaena releases a high keening noise as you suckle her clit, pointing your tongue and flicking against her sensitive nub. You lap up her juices, tongue sliding between her folds as your fingers press into her, gently beckoning against her sweet spot, drawing out a long orgasm from your girl.

Her hips buck wildly and she grasps the pillows tight, one hand squeezing and the other tugging your hair as you relentlessly eat her pussy through her orgasm. She creams against your tongue and your eyes roll back at the sweetness.

Helaena pants, eyes glazed but determined. She yanks your hands up, lying down fully. Her hands go to grab your hips. You raise an eyebrow as you realise what she wants.

"You sure flower?" You tease. Helaena huffs, purple eyes beseeching. She nods desperately and you lower your hips down to sit upon her face.

Her tongue instantly begins suckling your clit and you delight at the feeling. Her lips are wettened with your arousal. You can't help yourself but begin to grind against Helaena's small but expert tongue. Helaena looks to be in heaven as you ride her face, hands digging into your plush hips and ass, leaving fingernail crescents as she worships your swollen clit.

You don't last long, hands gripping the headboard as you throw your head back and cry out for Helaena, cumming right on her face. You fall back, panting, as Helaena reaches for you, drawing herself close and nestling in your arms.

As you both drift off, sleepily kissing and whispering words of promise, you thank the Gods for your beloved Juliet.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: there is a severe lack of (lesbian) Helaena fics and modern au ones aswell, im here to fix this! genuinely loved writing this, i love modern flirty helaena and sassy bestie cregan. phia is such a goddess fr tho. check my masterlist for more modern aus and sexy times, luv ya!

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 05

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 15.9k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ 😇😇😇😇 *chin hands sweetly* STRAP IN, FOLKS!!: GANGBANG. this chapter will include three brothers having sex with the reader at the same time (but not with each other). if this bothers you, please feel free to skip!, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (f+m giving/receiving), fingering, face fucking, exhibitionism, voyuerism, da booty getting ate like groceries, assplay, name calling, daddy kink, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, marking, spitroasting, cumplay, bukakke 😭, honestly this is a hot ass MESS and i should be sorry but i’m not 🤷🏽‍♀️ a/n⇢ well, hello~ long time no see!!!! i'm super pumped about this chapter because it has literally been in the works since i planned this whole fic out years ago 😭 a lot of planning and struggling later, and WE FINALLY HERE 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 i am so relieved that this finally exists in the world and not just in my head lmao. thank you all for hanging with me for this long and being so patient. i hope this chapter lives up to your expectations 😈 only the epilogue left! 😮‍💨👀 mood for this chapter is this song~ hope everyone enjoys!

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

Days quickly morphed into weeks, time continuing to flow even without you consciously noticing it pass you by. You were just so busy, both your schoolwork and your unconventional part-time job a whirlwind of activity that left you too preoccupied to do much else. Your already scant social life was starting to suffer, but honestly? You were completely fine with that—a neverending schedule of sex, sleep, and studying was more than enough, and it was highly unlikely you would be able to fit anything else onto your overflowing plate anyway.

It was expected for you to not have that much free time, anyway. Jimin’s was waning too, as the further the two of you got into your studies, the busier you both became. You still texted often to make sure each other was alive, but with your differing schedules, the new normal became not getting to see him in person for weeks on end.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing steam. Burning the candle at both ends was finally starting to catch up with you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it other than focusing on powering through it. This was the career path you chose—your dream—and so you simply just had to bear everything that came along with it. You were willing to put the work in to reach your goals, and you just kept reminding yourself that how you were living now was just a means to an end. 

Not that you at all only found the Kims to be a means to an end. Yes, they were paying your way through school, but you still really enjoyed the time you spent with each of them. They were all great company in different ways, and at this point, the only time you were freed from the library’s clutches was when one of them wanted to take you somewhere, so you found them to be more of a welcome distraction than anything else. 

Unfortunately, that still didn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, you were bone tired.

You had always been good at compartmentalizing. But though you tried your best to not let your slowly-building fatigue show, even your new employers could tell that you were being ran a bit ragged. Namjoon came to pick you up for a date one day, and all it took was one long look at you while you were trying to buckle your seatbelt for him to put the car in park and hustle you back upstairs instead, despite your protests. You thought that maybe he decided to forgo your movie plans for much more carnal activities, but once you were back inside your apartment, he sprawled himself onto your couch and reached for you. You were confused, but when you reflexively took his hand, he simply pulled you down with him and easily folded you into his body. 

God, he smelled good. And was comfortable and warm, so it didn’t take long for you to nod off, despite only being fifteen minutes into whatever Netflix movie he had put on. Namjoon spent his scheduled date letting you snore into his chest, and when you woke up hours later, groggy and discombobulated, you found him already gone and a blanket thrown over you.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he must have said something to his brothers. The next day, seemingly out of the blue, you got an email notification that Wendy, Seokjin’s assistant, had canceled an upcoming work lunch that had been on the calendar for weeks. (You highly doubted the lunch itself was canceled—just that Jin had decided to go alone.) And you were so used to Taehyung’s frequent visits that when he didn’t stop by for four days in a row, it became blatantly obvious that something was amiss. 

They were giving you space.

But if you were honest, though you appreciated the sudden breathing room in your schedule, all of them suddenly pulling out of the arrangement was making you uneasy. This was a job, after all, and you weren’t fully holding up your end of the bargain. Hell, the week before had been your period, so you hadn’t slept with any of them then, either. And, considering the fact that all three Kims were set to go on an overseas business trip soon, the amount of leave you were inadvertently taking was quickly adding up.  

You needed this money. You needed this money, this was not what they agreed to, and you were nervous you were starting to frustrate them.

To their credit, none of them ever seemed to be. Early on, when your period made its first appearance as the perpetual wrench in your plans, Seokjin had casually informed you that he was totally fine with just putting a towel down. However, when he saw you weren’t nearly as enthused with the idea, he simply gave you an easy shrug and said, “Then take whatever time you need.” His brothers had been equally as accommodating, and have been ever since (though Taehyung sometimes still liked to playfully pout at you when you told him Aunt Flo was in town).

But the fact was, you ultimately weren’t holding up your end of the bargain, and that knowledge was constantly hovering in the back of your mind and making you a bit anxious. That was why, days before he was scheduled to leave for his three week business trip, you took initiative and asked Taehyung if he wanted to come over. 

Both Seokjin and Namjoon had already graciously canceled their standing appointments with you for the second week in a row, but Taehyung had never had a standing appointment. He was always much more spontaneous than his brothers, and that personality trait was no different when it came to you, so that’s what you were counting on.

[1:32] Hey! Did you want to come over tomorrow? [1:32] Or later today, I guess

Despite it being so late, Tae apparently hadn’t gone to bed yet. He was a bit of a night owl, like you.

Taehyung [1:34] Well hello~ Taehyung [1:34] So nice to hear from you, sweetcheeks. How’s it been going? [1:35] Sweetcheeks, Taehyung? Really? Taehyung [1:35] What? They’ve always looked pretty sweet to me 😌👀

You scoffed, amused and fond. Always an incorrigible flirt, that one.

[1:35] Yeah, okay lol  [1:36] So if they’re so sweet, what are you gonna do about it?

A pause, one slightly too long for someone whose phone was in their hand and had been actively responding to you only moments before. You knew you had him even before his reply finally came through.

Taehyung [1:37] What time?

The next day, you focused on getting as much of your work done as you could before the hard stop of when you knew you had to start getting ready. You took a long shower, letting the hot water relax your stiff muscles before carefully maneuvering into the lingerie that was still prettily packaged in the bag from the boutique you got it from, untouched on the floor of your closet since you bought it.

You hadn’t seen him a while, so it only made sense to you to make things a little more exciting than usual. Spice it up. Honestly, sex with Taehyung was always anything with boring, but the thigh-highs you slipped into were just as much for you as him. You had been so focused on your studies that you couldn’t remember the last time you wore anything other than court-approved suits, sweatpants, or pajamas. It would be nice to feel something other than just tired again. To feel desired. Sexy.

And even you could admit the outfit you had chosen was sexy. A crimson, lacy bodysuit thing that did little to obscure the dusk of your nipples and disappeared between your asscheeks. The matching thigh-highs, joined with garters. You even had a pair of heels that you planned to wear—ones that made your legs look a mile long, but hurt like a bitch every time you attempted to wear them out. Despite their shortcomings, you were willing to slip on the deathtraps because luckily, for this particular occasion, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere in them, nor would they stay on you for very long. 

You were even planning on putting on a little makeup, on properly doing your hair for the first time in weeks and giving the bun you had been sporting a rest. However, all it took was a knock on your door to put an end to all those extras.

You frowned at the sound and padded over to your front door, happy you had already thrown on one of your law school hoodies to keep yourself warm until the festivities properly started. The sight of a familiar man through the peephole, hands resting comfortably in his slacks, threw you off.

Automatically, your hands were disengaging all the locks, were swinging the door open. “You’re early—”

Whatever words you had next immediately dissipated on your tongue. Taehyung was there, but he apparently came with company. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with a perfectly logical reason for why all three Kim brothers were at your doorstep right now.  

“Your hair,” you blurted, your scrambled brain latching onto the easiest subject first.

“Hmm?” Taehyung ruffled his newly dyed locks, the onyx hue a stark difference from the silver you were used to. “Oh yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you all week. My dad wanted me to dye it to a more ‘appropriate’ color before the conference. But whatever—it was time for a change, anyway. And this will be much easier to upkeep.”

You could only continue to stare at him as he spoke, your eyes naturally drifting over his shoulder at your additional visitors. 

All three of them were dressed pretty casually, which was normal for Taehyung and Namjoon, but less so for Seokjin when not in the comfort of his own home. The soft pink of his sweatsuit was a stark contrast to the sharp intelligence of his eyes, and he met your gaze for only a few seconds before he was turning to meet Namjoon’s instead, a pinch in his brow. 

Taehyung spoke again before either of them could say anything. “You gonna keep us out here?” he teased, casually leaning against the doorframe.

That finally jumpstarted you out of your haze, scrambling to move out of the way and gesture them inside. “Yes, of course. Come in!” Before your nosy neighbor caught them and assumed you were slutting it up.

(She would technically be right, but still. It was the principle. Your life was none of that judgy old shrew’s business.) 

Tae strolled in like he always did—like he owned the place—but you noticed his brothers’ strides seemed a bit more hesitant than the confidence you were usually witness to. Namjoon’s mouth was slightly pursed in the way you’d long learned meant he was thinking. Why did they seem as confused as you did?

“Hi,” you hedged anyway, a small, puzzled smile on your lips. “It’s been a while. Sorry if I’m acting weird—I just wasn’t expecting you, so I’m a little thrown off.”

Understanding immediately crossed Seokjin’s features, but you only got a second to see it before he was whipping towards his youngest brother, appalled. 

Namjoon was looking at him too, clearly irritated. “Are you serious, Taehyung?”

“What?” you asked, gaze flitting between the three of them in hope of finding some sort of clarity. 

“You never asked her?” Seokjin snapped.

“You know that’s not cool, man,” Namjoon sighed, an agitated hand running though blond locks.  

Why were they standing in your hallway and having whole conversations in front of you like you weren’t even there? “Never asked me what?” you cut in bemusedly, a little louder than you intended. It worked, at least, all three men immediately turning back to you.

Taehyung, for his part, looked properly contrite, cringing a little at the exasperation in your voice. “I’m sorry,” he told the room before placing his attention solidly back on you. His eyes were soft and sincere. “It truly slipped my mind, and I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t think.”

“When do you ever?” Seokjin snarked, but you ignored him, focused solely on Taehyung.

“What, Tae?” you encouraged gently. “What are you sorry for?”

It was clear from the hunch of his shoulders that he felt bad. “Um…”

“He invited us to come with him to meet you today,” Namjoon supplied. He gave his little brother a disappointed shake of his head. “But that’s not a decision for him to make. Is it, Tae.”

“I just knew that none of us have seen her in a while,” Tae whined. “And _____, when you reached out yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity since we’re about to leave the country for a few weeks.”

“I should have known better,” Seokjin muttered below his breath, looking heavenward in his annoyance. “I’m really sorry about this, _____. You never marked group activities as a no and I assumed Taehyung actually asked you like an adult, so I thought you were on board. I can leave.”

You blinked, still trying to grasp what was going on. “You were…trying to share your time?” you asked Taehyung slowly.

He nodded meekly. “I don’t mind sharing,” came his honest answer.

“But does she,” Seokjin scoffed, rubbing his temples in irritation. “That’s the only thing that matters. And to think otherwise is just selfish, Taehyung.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” The words left your lips before your brain could even register them, likely spurred on by how the increasingly chastened expression on Taehyung’s face. The three of them looked at you in surprise.

“It’s okay?” Namjoon parroted, an eyebrow raised in question.

You swallowed, mind racing to actually consider the consequences of what your mouth had just offered. But your nod of confirmation came almost immediately, because you knew Taehyung had never been trying to trap you. One of the qualities that simply made him him was his spontaneity, and while that made him fun and interesting to be around, it also was a double-edged sword that could easily make you end up in situations like this.

Tae knew none of them had seen you in a while, he knew they were soon going to jet out of the country, and had simply been trying to be nice in inviting his brothers along. He didn’t mean any harm.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, giving him a reassuring smile that visibly loosened some of the tension in his body. “You can all stay.”

The words settled between the four of you, heavy in the resulting quiet. Teeming with implication. You still weren’t completely sure what you were agreeing to, but what you did know was that you were going to need something to help stave off the nerves slowly bubbling beneath your skin. You cleared your throat, turning to make your way to the kitchen. “I think I need a drink.”

You didn’t glance back at them, but you could still feel them trailing you. Feel the heat of their gaze, and even the distinct heat of a body against your back, only a whisper away. Instead, you busied yourself with rooting around in your pantry and pulling out a handle of tequila. 

“This for me?” hummed a familiar velvety voice, close enough for you to easily deduce who had invited himself into your space so intimately. Taehyung. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, immediately frozen with what you saw. His eyes were blatantly trailing your figure, undeterred by the obstacle of your sweatshirt and easily roving your stockinged legs and feet. A dangerous smirk crawled across his face that had a delighted shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. “What?” came your stupefied reply. 

“This.” His gaze lingered on your toes, but quickly rose so he could playfully flick the zipper of your sweatshirt. “Whatever you’ve got on under there. Is it for me?”

Heat licked between your thighs at his deceptively light tone. At the way he was looking at you. “No,” you sniffed. Not wanting to give in just yet. “Just something I wear around the house.”

“Well, it’s nice,” came another voice, and you were instantly reminded of your other guests. Namjoon was leaning against an adjacent counter, eyes dark. “You never wear stuff like this for me—Taehyung must be your favorite.”

Startled despite his teasing tone, your hands flew up in protest. “N-No, it’s not that—”

“Of course I’m the favorite,” Tae sassed, throwing you a wink. “It’s okay to admit it, _____. We all know!” 

There was an almost immediate snort from behind you. Technically quiet enough to go unnoticed, but full of just enough derision that Taehyung’s proverbial hackles raised at the very sound of it. His head whipped to the source.

Jin looked deceptively bored, meeting his youngest brother’s glower with a flat stare. A single lifted eyebrow said everything his mouth deigned not worth the effort. What?

Tae scowled at his brother’s obvious disdain, but then, after a few moments, he simply shot an exhale from his nose and shook his head. “You’re clearly goading me,” he chuckled. “But you know what? It’s not gonna work this time. If you’re gonna be a jackass, you can just go.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating your importance in this situation,” Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But what else is new.”

“Guys,” Namjoon sighed, holding up pacifying hands in an attempt to ward off the rising tension.

You observed the whole exchange silently, still too off-kilter from the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in to do much more than look from brother to brother as if you were watching a tennis match. 

This was only the second time the four of you had all been in the same room—with the first being your original meeting discussing the contract. Well, technically third, if you counted that party Taehyung took you to so many months ago—the one that rerouted your life onto this much more interesting path. But the three of them hadn’t really mingled then, so you had been left to speculate their group dynamic. 

Now, though, you were starting to suspect your inklings were true.

Seokjin, the oldest, with lots of responsibility and expectations always set on him. Taehyung, the spoiled youngest who grew up without any of the same restraints, but also without any of the same parental attention. And Namjoon, the calm, stereotypical middle child, the glue who held it all together. The forced peacemaker who made sure that any of his brothers’ unspoken resentment for each other never got too far out of line.

“The only person who can tell me to leave is _____,” Seokjin continued, the sound of your name immediately throwing you out of your thoughts. You straightened, unprepared to suddenly find yourself locking eyes with him and surprised at the intensity you found there. “And is that what you want, _____? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, of course not,” you blurted. You didn’t miss the smug look Jin threw his brother, nor the way Tae’s lips pursed in irritation, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about any of that right now. With a steadying breath, you focused instead on shuffling over to another cabinet and pulling out a glass.

It was starting to hit you. You weren’t sure what in the hell was going on, what exactly it was you agreed to, but whatever it was, you now had all three of your lovers in your apartment at the same time. Respectful of you and your space, but still obviously ogling you—ravenous predators slowly and eagerly circling their next meal.

It all made your skin prickle in anticipation, the thrill of the unknown buzzing in your veins.    

“Choo choo,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically, pouring a healthy amount of tequila into your cup.

Namjoon raised a brow. “What?”

“What?” you parroted immediately, startled that he had heard you.

“I just…nevermind, I thought you said something.”

“Oh. Uh, I was just wondering if any of you wanted any.”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll take some,” Tae piped up brightly, moving into your space before you could blink. Body a breath away as he reached over to you to pull his own cup from the cabinet. You froze at his proximity, unable to look away as he smirked down at you. “Choo choo,” he murmured with a wink.

Before you could react with anything more than a sharp gasp, he was pulling away again, reaching for the tequila bottle.

Jesus.

With a slightly unsteady hand, heart pumping furiously in your chest, you welcomed the burning liquid down your throat, sticking your cup out for Tae to pour you more once it was empty.

“So how have you all been?” you babbled, tone a little too high and strained to be casual. “It’s been so long, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me. Or that you’d made other arrangements or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been paid to be stood up before, that’s kind of embarrassing—” A hand, warm and gentle, rested on your arm, and immediately, all coherent thought escaped your electrified body.   

It was Seokjin, slowly rubbing what he likely thought were calming assurances, but only amping you up more. “She rambles when she’s nervous,” he informed his brothers, the small smile on his lips betraying his endearment.  

“Aw, don’t be nervous, babe. I’ll take good care of you,” Taehyung cooed, effortlessly draining his glass and motioning towards yours. “Want another one?”

No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing you needed was something that could lower your gag reflex even more. Vomming all over them would certainly make for an interesting going away gift, but then they would most certainly ghost you for real.

You shook your head of the negative thoughts, timidly swiping a tongue over your suddenly very dry lips. “So how exactly is this going to work?”  

“The way it’s always worked,” Tae reassured you with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just you and me. The only difference is that they’re here too—but you don’t have to worry about that. I told them they could only watch.”

It took you a few moments to process that, your eyes silently roving over each of them and finding them all watching you right back. Ready, but waiting. 

Look, don’t touch. Another interesting twist to a night that was already looking to be interesting.

“Is that okay?” Seokjin asked, clearly intending to follow your lead. Leaving the ball in your court. And another glance at the other two showed they obviously shared their older brother’s sentiments. 

A memory flickered teasingly in the corner of your mind—the trepidation of being fucked in front of a window where anyone could see. The undeniable thrill that followed the thought of being watched. 

You swallowed. “Yeah,” you finally replied. “If…you want to.”

“Do you want us to?” Namjoon pressed sternly, refusing to let go of your gaze. Communication, he always insisted. Solid consent, or no consent at all. Yes or no.

All three stared at you. You shifted under their attention, a bit out of your element, but ultimately sure. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Okay,” Namjoon simply replied with an approving nod. With a pleased smile that brought forth dimpled cheeks. But then he shifted towards you more, and the slight change in his stance seemed to completely change his demeanor. His intention. “What’s your safeword?”

You knew he knew it; knew he knew you did as well. The two of you had been together enough times for a rhythm to between you to form, so this repeating of superfluous information was likely solely for his brothers’ benefits.

“Cinnamon.”

“And if you can’t say it?”

“Tap you 3 times.”

“Good.” 

“Safeword?” Taehyung chuckled incredulously, eyes a little wide in surprise. “Well shit.”

“Yeah, and I know how to use it too, if you get out of line,” you teased, but your mind was already elsewhere. It didn’t matter that Tae was the one who would be actively playing with you today—you had spent enough time with Namjoon that you had apparently been conditioned. The blond had asked you your safeword, you repeated it to him, and so the scene had officially started. All of your previous unease ebbed away as you couldn’t help but focus instead on what you were all here for. 

Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter and moved to exit the kitchen, brushing against Taehyung on your way out and shooting a pointed look at him over your shoulder. “You ready?”

“Baby, you know I’m always ready,” he purred, jolted into action and eagerly trailing down the hallway after you. “I’ve just been waiting on you.”

You didn’t bother to turn to see if the others were following you. You knew they were, their very presence somehow making the hallway feel like it was shrinking, overstuffed. Still, you tried not to let that unnerve you, continuing on with purpose until you made it to your destination and were hovering awkwardly next to your bed. 

They all filed into the room, one by one, and you bit your lip, fully out of your element. Three handsome men had allowed you to lure them here, but now that they were? You had no idea what your next move was supposed to be.  

Luckily for you, Tae was more than happy to take initiative, immediately slinking up to your side and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The gesture was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but snort, and he simply grinned, pleased with himself for lessening your nerves, even if only a little. He reached for you without a second thought and you let him, eager to fall into more familiar territory. 

Taehyung’s large hands smoothed over your hips, your ass with clear familiarity. A finger curled under the top of your thigh highs, lightly snapping the elastic against your skin. “You really did this is for me, huh?”

The dark look in his eye had the breath catching in your throat. “Shut up,” you scoffed unconvincingly.

He tsked, the wicked curl of his lips ruining any illusion of disappointment. “You know I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

You could only blink in response. You hadn’t known that. Was he serious? Was this another level to his subjugation, or was he just pulling your leg? 

Before your brain had the opportunity to come up with a proper retort, Tae was reaching out a finger to tap the zipper of your sweatshirt, gaze focused on its slow, teasing sway. “So.”

Your brow lifted, an unspoken prompting. 

The swinging zipper almost slowed to a stop, and when he reached out this time, it was to lightly run his thumb over the metal, to slowly roll it between his fingers. You swallowed, the anticipation of what you knew to be coming only adding to the charged silence between you. Distractedly, the tip of his tongue swiped across his lips, drawing your gaze. “You invited me to play,” he finally continued, voice honeyed amber. Crushed velvet. 

As if he hadn’t been playing with you from the moment he entered your apartment. You tilted your head anyway—an invitation and a challenge. “Then let’s play.” 

A small smile touched his lips, clearly pleased that his teasing invoked yours. But he didn’t say anything else, his response simply to finally guide the zipper down its track. Leisurely, unwrapping you like a present and delighting in the underneath.  

And you had technically dressed yourself to be one, so you let him. Let him take his time so he could fully appreciate the swell of your breasts, the purposeful, flirty peek of your nipples through the scarlet lace. You wished you had had the time to properly do your hair and makeup and slip on the heels you had set aside just for the occasion so he could get your full intended effect, but your less than perfect appearance didn’t seem to dissuade Taehyung at all. No, he simply slid his hands under the fabric when he finally got impatient enough—fingers light and palms warm—and pushed the sweatshirt off your shoulders with eyes that were all pupil. His hungry gaze carefully roved your form, a lingering path from head to toe that made your skin tingle in its wake.  

His lips parted, tongue giving them another distracted swipe, and then he finally moved again, making his way to your dresser. Now that his broad form wasn’t blocking your view of the rest of the room, you were quickly reminded of the room’s other occupants. Seokjin and Namjoon still hovered near the doorway, quiet, but obviously also drinking in the sight of you now that they could see you properly. Your breath caught, not used to having so much obvious desire directed at you, the air so thick with it you could practically taste it, heady and syrupy.

A light scraping sound regained your attention, and when you turned your head, you realized Taehyung had pulled open a particular drawer—one that he had quickly became familiar with since the start of your arrangement. He pulled out the lube he was looking for, but was much more interested in something else in there, if the mischievous look on his face was any indicator. “What’s this?” he asked, mouth a delighted box, and before you could chastise him about going through your things without permission, he was already pulling out your wand vibrator. “You got a new toy?”

“It’s not new,” you huffed, slightly embarrassed despite everything. “I just usually keep it in the shower.”

You saw his Adam’s apple dip at that information. Saw the wheels turning behind his eyes before he was quickly shutting the drawer and headed towards the bed with his loot in hand. He sat on the edge and eagerly motioned for you to follow.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the vibrator he had neglected to put away, but Taehyung just reached for your hand and gently pulled you towards him until you were close enough for him to properly guide onto his lap. “Don’t be like that,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath against the skin inciting a shiver to run through you. “Gotta prep you for the show.”

Ah yes, the show. He had faced you away from him, so now it was impossible for you to forget your captive audience. At some point, Seokjin had pulled your office chair away from your desk, and now he was lounging across the room, in direct view of the bed. His legs were comfortably spread, almost as if it was an open invitation for you to crawl onto his lap instead. Namjoon, on the other hand, was casually leaning against the desk, arms crossed. Eyes dark.

Lips trailed up your neck, quickly regaining your attention. Taehyung pressed slow kisses into the sensitive skin, humming contentedly when you tilted your head to give him better access. His hands dragged up and down your stockinged legs, his exploration only pausing to playfully snap the garter at your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, heat thrumming through your veins at the action. You felt him smirk, and then he was tactfully lifting your legs by the knees and hooking them around his own one by one. Easily spreading  your thighs by widening his own.

Easily revealing to your unsuspecting employers that your lingerie was crotchless.

The sudden display of your pussy had an immediate effect on the room, though no one said a word. The air was so charged with crackling energy that you shivered, almost breaking out in goosebumps at the onslaught of blatant desire. This close, it was quite easy for you to hear how Tae’s breath hitched, quite easy to interpret the excitement of his fingers, still compulsively tracing over the pattern of your stockings like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Inexplicably, you still found yourself feeling a bit shy at the salacious attention you intentionally brought upon yourself, gaze darting to the floor for a few seconds before you finally chanced a look at the other two from beneath your lashes. Seokjin was busy unabashedly staring at your spread pussy, Adam’s apple bobbing, but Namjoon was unabashedly staring at you, your heart pounding when you locked eyes.

The spell was only broken when an impatient hand guided your head to the side, Taehyung demanding your full attention. After lapping against your pulse one last time, his mouth promptly switched course to your own,  the kiss sweet, but decidedly sloppy due to the angle. In any case, it was easy to quickly lose yourself in the warmth of his lips—at this point, it was all practically reflex—and you were so engrossed in the ebb of his tongue that you completely missed the rather foreboding buzzing in the room until something was being purposefully pressed against the most sensitive part of you.

“Shit,” you gasped, jerking in his hold. But it didn’t matter, because Tae’s other hand was gripping tight at your thigh, ensuring you could do nothing but squirm in his lap, breath quickening in anticipation. 

“Hm?” came his casual response. You knew from experience that he only had your vibrator on the first or second level, but the way his restless fingers still plucked at your stockings told you he was nowhere near done with you. Let’s play you had teased, and he clearly intended to do just that. 

Before your thoughts could linger too long on how intense this night was likely going to be, the vibrator was shifted slightly to the side, resting momentarily on your thigh so Taehyung could reach for the bottle of lube and give it a generous squeeze. 

“What’s your plan?” you breathed, the question inane even to your own ears. But the words escaped you before you could even properly process them, needing to say something in an effort to distract yourself from the muted vibrations that were still trickling up your leg to your core. 

Tae let out an amused exhale, clearly not fooled by your feigned nonchalance. He humored you anyway, despite your very obvious failings to suppress a shiver. “Gotta prep you,” he answered huskily, busy warming the lube with his fingers and making them visibly slick in the process.

You only had one moment—two—before you felt him sliding a finger across the seam of you. Slowly dragging the digit up from your entrance to your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves just enough to make your breath catch, then drifting his way back down again.

“Don’t tease,” you murmured. 

That earned you a chuckle in response. “Don’t you think you’re the one being the tease here? Texting out of the blue and wearing this—”another snap of your garter against your thigh, to punctuate his point—“when you knew damn well it would drive me crazy?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like I was being pretty direct to me.”

Another chuckle. “Fair.” And without further preamble, he slipped a finger in you, your relief leaving you in a shuddery exhale. “That better?”

“M-Much.”

“How about this?”

Another finger, plunging into your willing heat and making another relieved sigh escape you at the stretch. “We’re getting there.”

You didn’t have to be able to see him to know he was grinning, always one to be entertained by the easy banter between you. Tae didn't say anything, his response better communicated by a scrape of his teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck, settling to suck on your pulse point. 

You didn’t bother hiding your shiver this time, unconsciously slumping further against him, hips reflexively jerking forward to pull him in deeper.

Taehyung added a third finger, snapping and scissoring and pressing and curling. Seducing your body’s natural resistance until you really started to betray your need, hips canting greedily towards his thrusts, whines erupting from your throat.

“You’re enjoying this already, baby?” Tae cooed, delighted by how responsive you were being. “I’ve barely done anything.”

You just nodded distractedly, the familiar warmth that was building in your core and creeping down your legs making it hard to think about anything else. Still, you couldn’t help your gaze being drawn to the other occupants of the room, who seemed to be frozen in time, dutifully having not moved from their posts. Completely enraptured by the way their brother meticulously worked you open.

Tae breathed hot into the shell of your ear. “You like it when they watch you?” came his knowing whisper, a nip against the cartilage punctuating his point. “Like for them to see how good I make you feel? Hmmm? What if we show them how good you take this dick?”

Your pussy fluttered. Tae cussed under his breath, teased with the wet, pulsing grip of you and falling deeper into his own fantasy. “Fuckkk, you’re dripping all over my hand, baby. I would probably just slide right in, wouldn’t I?”

“Yesss,” you moaned. “I can take it, baby.”

“I know you can. With this perfect fucking pussy. But what if we played some more? Got you nice and juicy for me?”

“I’m always juicy,” you sassed back, but any more retorts died on your tongue when you saw him reach again for the momentarily forgotten vibrator. 

Tae’s arms circled around you, his chin slotting into the crook of your neck so he could get a better look of what he intended to do. The vibrator was turned up from its low rumble and pressed unceremoniously against you, and you yelped, jolting in his hold. It was too much, and you couldn’t help but writhe against him. Still, you welcomed the sudden intensity, desperate whines freely escaping you as you hurtled toward your peak. Tae only fingered you faster in response, the undoubtedly sloppy sounds drowned out by the vibrator. “I could slide right in, but I won’t cause it’s much more fun this way. Especially since we haven’t seen each other in a while. More fun for everybody if take our time, right, baby? So how about you cum on my fingers first, and then you can pick everywhere else on me you’d like to cum?”

You could only moan freely, just like how Tae liked. If you weren’t so distracted by the way he was fucking stars behind your eyelids, you would have noticed just how affected your spectators were becoming at your display. The shifting, the subtle rubbing over pants.

But as it were, you were completely preoccupied by your swift descent into madness, your hand desperately scrabbling for purchase before ultimately rooting itself in the hair at Taehyung’s nape to await your rapidly approaching release. Because at this point, your orgasm was inevitable, your thighs quivering with the sheer force of it, every atom of you hyper-focused on achieving that satisfying end goal. 

Until the sudden sound of a certain voice knocked you out of your trance. 

“Stop.”

You jolted as if touching a live wire, hand immediately wrapping around Taehyung’s wrist like a vice and yanking the vibrator away from you. 

For a few moments, the room was silent, save the rumble of the toy and your heavy breathing. But Taehyung was too baffled to let what just happened slide. “What’s the matter?”  

You nervously licked your lips, too frozen in Namjoon’s dark stare to answer his younger brother.

“You know better,” came the blond’s low admonishment, Seokjin turning to look at him in bewilderment. 

And you did know better—when you were with Namjoon, you were not allowed to cum without his express permission. It was a game the two of you played that you often lost, despite your valiant efforts. It just never occurred to you that you would still be expected to play in Namjoon’s general presence, whether he was the one touching you or not. 

Jittery with your aborted orgasm and nervous excitement, you looked away, your eyes automatically averted submissively to the floor in a last effort to assuage him. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you replied softly.

“Daddy?” Taehyung repeated incredulously. “What the fuck?” In his confusion, his hold on you slackened, and, nervous he wouldn’t take the hint otherwise, you used the opportunity to shift his fingers out of you and stumble forward on wobbly legs.

“Take your clothes off,” was your reply, breath labored and skin already veiled in a light sheen of sweat. You needed to distract him from asking too many questions right now. Needed to distract yourself from just how strongly your body was begging to fall apart.

Tae was still confused, but he didn’t need to be told twice. Off came his button-down shirt, each button popped open just roughly enough that you were surprised none of them ended up scattered across the floor in his haste. Off came his slacks, unzipped and then easily slipped down his slim hips. He paused when reaching for his underwear though, eyes narrowing at something behind you.

You didn’t even get the chance to turn around to investigate what had caught his attention before you felt it—the distinct feeling of someone hovering in your space, close enough you could feel his body heat radiating against you.  

“Hey sweetheart,” came a familiar husky voice, goosebumps rippling across your body at the feel of Seokjin’s hot breath ghosting up your neck. “Can I touch you?”

“Hey,” Tae scowled.

“_____?” Jin interrupted, still only millimeters away. A whisper away, but never touching, waiting for the only permission he truly needed—yours. Not Taehyung’s.  

Without a second thought, you leaned back against him, delighting in the feel of his body slotting so naturally into yours. “Yes,” you breathed, pressing your ass further into what could only be the hard jut of his cock.  

Soft, plush lips trailed up your neck instantly, large hands sliding over your hips and around your waist. You immediately melted into him, your body well-trained and eager for the pleasure it knew those lips and hands would deliver. 

“This wasn’t the deal,” Tae huffed, eyebrows scrunched in irritation as he finally slid off his boxer briefs. Drawn like a magnet, your eyes fell to the bounce of his freed cock, tip already shiny with precum.

Seokjin tutted distractedly, too busy nibbling along your jaw to give his youngest brother much attention. “You need to learn to share, Taehyung. The rest of society learned that concept when we were toddlers.”

“Whatever,” Tae grumbled, clearly not happy with the way the night was turning out. He only allowed his brother a few more seconds to have his way with you before he was reaching for your hands and walking you back towards the bed.  

You gasped in surprise when the world was suddenly off-kilter, your hands reflexively scrambling to hold onto Tae for balance, but it was only when the two of you landed on the mattress that you realized he had purposely tipped you into him, your chests flush. 

“Really, Taehyung?” you laughed, now conveniently in his embrace instead of Seokjin’s. 

Tae just grinned in response, so close that his nose brushed yours. Cheekily, his hands worked the flesh of your behind.

“I’ve been wondering where those have been coming from,” you heard Seokjin say behind you, and your face heated up in realization of what he was talking about, once again shy to be so on display and open for scrutiny. You had forgotten how mottled the skin of your ass still looked, and it was a little embarrassing to be called out on it. Time apart meant the bruises were near the end of their healing stage, but though you no longer sported marks of potentially alarming colors, their faded remnants still branded you in the distinct shape of a hand. 

“If you were wondering, why didn’t you ask,” you countered, tucking your face in Tae’s neck to help hide your flustered state. 

“Because that’s rude,” Jin answered easily, his own hand reaching over to gently smooth over the discolored skin. “And it’s really none of my business.”

“I think they’re pretty,” Taehyung cut in from below you. This close, you could feel the rumble of his declaration, could feel the heat of his stare. Of his want.

“So do I.”

A different voice, one that made an undeniably eager shiver run through you. Slowly, you lifted your head and turned, and there was Namjoon, still standing across from the bed, eyes all pupil.

The way he was looking at you…desire rippled through your whole body in response, your next words leaving your lips before you could even process them. 

“Are you going to touch me too, Daddy?”

The room was quiet, the question marinating long enough that the air became thick and heavy with the resulting tension. Just when you thought you might suffocate, Namjoon finally tilted his head. Slowly—a predator locked in on prey, playing with his meal simply for his own amusement—he stalked closer to the bed. He walked past Seokjin and made it all the way to the foot of the mattress, close enough to touch you if he so pleased.

The burn of his gaze was somehow stronger now that he was closer, a palpable energy that drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help but scramble upright when he was finally right in front of you, clambering to your knees despite Tae’s clear reluctance to let you go.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon asked passively. He looked down at you, seemingly unimpressed by how eagerly you knelt on the mattress, just waiting for him to join you on it. “You already have enough people taking care of you. Are you really that greedy?”

“Yes,” you shivered, the action involuntary but wanting. “Want you too, Daddy.”

“Hm.” The single syllable was dismissive, but your previous time spent with Namjoon had taught you not to take that at face value. That you had to have patience, that if you simply waited him out, you would always eventually get what you wanted.

As if proving your point, Namjoon silently considered you for a few more seconds before his eyebrow finally raised in challenge. “Open,” he demanded. 

Your jaw dropped instantly, tongue out, and he smiled, pleased at your obedient response.  

You weren’t sure you had the energy to be bratty to him today when his brothers were still in the mix too. 

“Good,” Namjoon cooed, all dimples and boy next door. The boy next door who firmly grasped your chin, lifting your head a little and leaning down. But though your eyelashes fluttered in preparation for the slot of his mouth against yours, it never came. Namjoon paused, slanted eyes quietly observing you, then spit in your open mouth instead.

“Jesus,” came Taehyung’s awed reply from behind you, but you were too busy trying not to whimper, thighs squeezing together with sudden want. Namjoon hadn’t told you you could swallow, so you didn’t, drool starting to collect until it overflowed and dribbled down your jaw. 

“Very good,” Namjoon murmured, and this time, he did lean down to kiss you, all wet and sloppy. You eagerly pushed further into his space, blood thrumming with your need for more, but he pulled away before you could get too carried away. He cleared his throat, lips pink and spit-slicked. “Gonna keep being a good girl for us today?”

You immediately nodded, a thrill going through you at the way the action rapidly made his expression steel over. He tsked condescendingly. “Now, now, you know better than to not speak when spoken to.”

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Well, that definitely answers the mystery bruises.” It was Seokjin, now behind you. Somehow you hadn’t noticed him discard his shirt and climb onto the bed, too caught in Namjoon’s spell. You felt his hands drifting across your waist again, roaming up to cup your breasts and lightly pinch at your nipples through the lace. You whimpered, arching eagerly into his touch.

“Oh come on,” Taehyung whined. A turn of your head produced him, naked and sulking in the middle of the bed. “It was supposed to be my turn.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute pout, dutifully extracting yourself from Jin’s hold to crawl your way towards the youngest brother. “Don’t worry, baby. I know how to multitask.”

He greedily grabbed you as soon as you were in reach, holding you tight to his chest and plopping back onto the bed so you were once again on top of him, knees straddling his hips. You giggled again at his antics, flattered by his sudden possessiveness, and Tae playfully nipped at your collarbone in retaliation. 

The bed dipped behind you, and then there was Seokjin again, undeterred by Tae’s petulant behavior. “Not only are you bad at sharing, but you’re only thinking about yourself,” he scoffed, grabbing your hips without preamble. “What about _____?”

Taehyung immediately bristled beneath you. 

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure, but before you could properly defend him, you suddenly found yourself face down and ass up, the sudden appearance of a tongue swiping through your slit rendering you shuddery and brain dead. “Fuck. Jin—”

You felt Seokjin’s smirk against you. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said huskily, hot breath ghosting over your most private of parts. “Couldn’t help myself. You dressed my meal up so pretty.”

That was fair, you supposed. That he made proper use of the easy access your lingerie provided, that he gave himself the opportunity to admire the tiny lacy hearts on your garter belt up close. But Seokjin didn’t allow himself to preen for very long, his focus immediately turning back to the task at hand. Laving hot and slow, your whole body tingling down to your toes.

Unconsciously, you pushed back further into his face, and Jin hummed approvingly, massaging your asscheeks, large hands spreading them apart so he could get as close to you as humanly possible. His enthusiasm has always been so fucking sexy, and you knew he wasn’t playing it up for theatrics when the slurping sounds started. You were that turned on, still frustrated from being led to the edge of the proverbial cliff and not allowed to jump, and Seokjin was more than happy to help himself to the honey he was coaxing from between your thighs. 

A haze was starting to take over you, completely focused on how good he was eating you out, on how hot you were, sweat and desire prickling your skin. Your hips mindlessly circling while you vaguely tried not to drool on Taehyung’s chest. 

Not that Tae seemed to mind much, hands idly roaming whatever stretch of skin he could touch, content to watch how your expression twisted and eyes glazed over as lust easily towed you under.

Seokjin pulled back a bit, chuckling at your whines of protest when he did so. But the familiar click of a top being popped open shut you up, lifting your head and looking over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions. The lube was a bit cold when it hit your asshole, and Jin wasn’t shy with the amount he squeezed out. His eyes were completely blown, enraptured by its slow decent, watching the lube trail through your pubic hair and down your slit. A distracted tongue swept across his lips, completely focused on sliding his fingers through the slick and making everything somehow even more wet. 

You shivered at his touch, thighs twitching as his long fingers smoothed the lube over your bundle of nerves in sure, purposeful circles. He leaned in again, tongue blazing a hot, meandering trail up the inside of your thigh and giving the sensitive skin there a playful nip before his fervent licks returned. Tongue slipping down to caress your clit, wandering back up to dip into your throbbing cunt, and dragging back down again. 

It was on one of these passes that Seokjin accidentally drifted a bit too high, your undulating hips causing him to lap over your asshole instead. You moaned, loud, and he immediately froze. 

It was clear neither of you had been expecting that reaction. But while you could only describe the look on his face as light surprise, you couldn’t help but duck your head in embarrassment.

“What’s the matter?” Taehyung breathed into your hair, wondering what halted the activities.

You weren’t really sure what to say, now embarrassed by your embarrassment. But it turned out you didn’t have to say anything, Seokjin curiously testing the waters by leaning in and placing a chaste kiss against your rim. When you didn’t do anything but suck in a breath, his tongue dipped out again for a tentative lick. You shuddered, ass reflexively bucking towards him instead of pulling away, and that was all the confirmation he needed. His hands palmed your asscheeks again, spreading them open to give himself more room to press his tongue against you more confidently, and you trembled in response.

It was a foreign sensation, but not bad. You technically hadn’t marked this as a no when signing your contract, but it never even crossed your mind that getting your booty ate would be a very real possibility. You weren’t against assplay per se—you simply had never experienced it before. And never in a million years would you have expected it to feel like this. 

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you couldn’t help but whimper. Electricity licked up your spine when his sloppy tongue slowly circled around the tight ring of muscle. Unbidden, your hand reached back, gliding through his hair before rooting itself and pulling in an attempt to get him impossibly closer to you. 

Seokjin hummed approvingly at the your enthusiasm, the sound almost sounding like he was blowing bubbles with the way you were now shoving his face between your asscheeks. Leaning somehow further into it, he ate you out with a vigor that told you he was clearly pleased you were using him to get yourself off. You melted into his ministrations, a whine falling from your lips when he gently slipped his sinful tongue inside you, the foreign feeling making your toes curl in unexpected pleasure. 

You were getting worked up. With nothing more than his mouth, Seokjin was easily restoking the blazing fire within you that only minutes before had been forced to embers. You were getting worked up, and the more you moaned and gyrated against him, the more Taehyung’s fingers twitched restlessly against your skin. If you had been in your right mind, you would have noticed his rising agitation and wouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and pulled you away from his brother. Instead, you blinked at him dazedly, pelvises flush after momentum had you inadvertently scooting further up his body.  

“I’ve shared enough,” he growled, irritated. “It’s my turn now.” Another pull, and you were back on his lap, his leaking erection grinding pointedly against your slick folds. “C’mere, baby—fucking sit it on it.” 

You were dazed, already pretty fucked out even though things were just getting started. The constant influx of pleasure was striking all your coherent thought, unable to understand anything other than finally being able to cross the finish line. And you knew from experience that Taehyung’s massive dick was a great way to get there, so you didn’t mind at all when he continued to maneuver you as he pleased, large hands canting your hips at a proper angle to receive him. 

Your breath hitched when he finally sunk into your fervid body. You were so turned on and wet at that point that it didn’t hurt the slightest, but he was so big that the very pressure of him forcing your walls apart caused your eyes to roll back in your head, your nails pressing crescent moons into the caramel of his skin. “Ungh—”    

“Shit,” Tae groaned, fingers tightening on your thighs at the wet grip of you. “Feel so fucking good, baby. Always so fucking good.”

He was buried balls deep, too on edge to give you any more than a few seconds to adjust before he was bucking wildly into you, easily scraping against your spongy nerves with every unforgiving stroke. You couldn’t do much more than take it, unfiltered moans readily escaping you. Hot and low, like they were generated deep in your pussy and Taehyung was hard at work fucking them up and out of your mouth.

You were so worked up at this point that you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, your walls tightening more and more by the second, your whole body trembling in preparation of the inevitable.

 “_____,” Namjoon snapped.

It took some effort to lift your head from where you had buried it in Tae’s neck, startled into blearily looking up to meet the middle brother’s steely gaze. Your mind raced, flustered and trying to understand how you had somehow forgotten about him. When his lips curled with a whisper of a smirk, it instantly dawned on you that him fading into the background had been entirely by design.

Namjoon had allowed you to be distracted by his brothers. Had allowed them to have all the fun while he quietly watched your slow, uncontrollable descent into carnality. Because he knew that all he had to do was wait, and you would inevitably disobey him.

And then his fun would start.

You had played your part in his little game, cockily swaggered your way right into his trap with thigh highs and a smile. Too naive to notice that the situation had been rigged from the start, and now that everything was in motion, it was far too late to save yourself from your oncoming reckoning. 

You were gasping, the pistoning of Taehyung’s cock setting all of your nerves alight and making it hard not to meet him thrust for thrust, trapped in meeting Namjoon’s stare through your wet lashes. He had moved to stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to touch, and he was the only person in the room who was still, bafflingly, fully-dressed.

“Please,” you babbled, too far gone to even know who your begging was directed towards. “Please, I—” Your body spazzed violently, only contained by Tae’s bruising grip as he relentlessly continued to plow into you. “Ohhh godddd! Fuckkk—ah, ahhhh—”

Against your best efforts, your cunt locked down, hard. So hard you forgot to breathe, pleasure and relief finally flooding your veins as you stuffed your face into Tae’s neck to ride it out, bucking and whining and incoherent.

Taehyung made a loud, choked noise, the feeling of you pulsing around him throwing him further into his trance. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, fingers digging into your thighs punishingly. Drilling into you harder, your release heightening his desperation for his own. Biology making him single-minded, manic, even when you started to mewl in oversensitivity. “Squeezing me so tight. Cream me good, baby. Fuck.” 

You continued to tremble, nothing more at this point than sparking nerve endings. Tae lifted his head a little to lick into your awaiting mouth, kissing you wet and wild and desperate while still plunging deep inside you.  

But even though you did nothing to attempt to control the torrent of whines freely spilling from your tongue, in the back of your mind, you still had the good sense to be nervous. Because even without seeing his face, you already knew Namjoon was pissed. 

You had failed.

As if confirming your thoughts, fingers wrapped around your hair and pulled, naturally ripping your lips from Taehyung’s and forcing your head to lift. With nowhere to hide, you were forced to meet the full intensity of Namjoon’s glare. 

“What did I say,” he demanded darkly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Your blood pounded excitedly.

“Cut her some slack, Namjoon,” came Jin’s mild reply from behind you. Your eyes widened, not expecting his dismissive tone to go over very well. 

Namjoon didn’t acknowledge his older brother, instead focusing his attention on his younger. A carefully controlled tempest that was moments away from unleashing its wrath. “Taehyung. Move.”

The swivel of Tae’s hips slowed, but didn’t stop. He was too on edge, too close to joining you in bliss. “I—g-give me a minute, hyung—”

“Move.” 

You could feel just how reluctant Tae was to comply—his rutting finally stopped, but his hips still instinctually twitching in a primal need to keep fucking you. Still, something in his brother’s tone made his protest cut off in his throat, and after a few labored, frustrated breaths, he obediently slipped out of you. 

You whimpered at the loss, your toes curling at the resulting friction. Between the cum that had long been leaking from you and dribbling down your thighs and the mess Tae’s cock was making in his excitement, it was hot and sticky where your bodies slotted together, and you couldn’t help the way you senselessly started to grind against him, lashes fluttering at the feeling.  

Namjoon scoffed at your clear desperation. “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” he snapped, grip still firm in your hair. “For him to cum inside you.”

You shivered at the thought, a little embarrassed that you were so obvious. “Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, releasing a shuttering breath when you felt Tae’s slick cock jump against your stomach at your admission.

“Well you’ve been bad,” Namjoon replied slowly, as you weren’t very bright, “so you don’t get to have what you want.” He took a step forward, legs knocking into the edge of the bed, now only a breath away, and you licked your lips, mentally preparing for what you knew would come.

But before he could get any closer to you—before Taehyung could even slide from beneath you—there were once again hands on your hips.

“Hey!” Tae snapped irritably, but whatever he had to say was drowned out by your surprised, rather pathetic choking when, with a delicious roll of his hips, Seokjin unexpectedly sank inside your pliant body, thoroughly making himself at home exactly where Tae had been forced to vacate. You had been so focused on Namjoon that you somehow missed the weight shifting behind you, the telltale rustling of clothing as he pushed is sweatpants down his hips enough to free his cock so he could stuff you the hilt. 

You had been saved by the eldest Kim, at least for now. But for how long would he really be able to delay your punishment?

Since he was still holding you by the hair, you could easily see the emotions flicker across Namjoon’s face at his older brother butting in, but his expression quickly settled into something mirroring cool indifference.

You knew better. Namjoon was a patient man, but you doubted he would let your disobedience slide so easily. 

Seemingly uncaring of either of his brothers’ vexation, Seokjin rode your ass, hips rolling forward in constant waves, strokes long and deep and pointed. Clearly wanting to keep you mewling for him. 

And as you did just that, you rapidly realized that saving you from Namjoon’s wrath had never been his intention. No, he simply liked you just like this, whiny and shivery and too fucked out to care that you were drooling and desperate. 

“You feel it, sweetheart?” he asked, voice melodic and sweet. Leaning over to press plump lips up your spine and sucking on a rather sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 

“Yesss,” you whined. You could feel everything, could feel the ripple of your ass every time his hips slammed against it, could feel every ridge of his cock that scraped against your insides. Sparks shot through you after every stroke, your clit forced to drag across Tae’s stomach with the force. “Fuck, you’re so big and deep, fuck, fuck.”

Seokjin just hummed, playing your body like a fiddle and pleased by how it was responding to him. Breath stuttering, toes curling, fingers gripping the sheets.

But despite how good he was making you feel, you weren’t too fucked out to overlook Namjoon this time. No, this time forgetting him was impossible, the middle brother doing nothing to hide his massive presence. He towered over you, intently watching you get railed by his older brother, and the barely suppressed fury you could sense radiating off him was making your cunt throb and head spin. 

“I’m sorry, D-Daddy,” you stuttered, everything tingling at the look he fixed you with in response. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Are you?” he asked lowly, a tic in his jaw. He let the question marinate for a few moments, let you simmer beneath his intense stare. Just when you felt the overwhelming compulsion to apologize again, he finally reached for you, a single finger lifting your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze directly. With a patronizing tilt of his head, he popped open the button on his pants. “Then make it up to me.”

You were already pushing yourself to your hands and knees, desperate to please. Taehyung’s hands drifted up your sides to steady you, your body trembling from the way Seokjin still reamed into you, undeterred. You reached out for the band of Namjoon’s pants, trying to get to the important bits, but he simply tutted and smacked your hand away.

“Mouth,” he said simply, the single word full of derision.

So you leaned forward again, this time using the tip of your nose to part his fly and give you proper access to his clothed cock. He was thick and swollen already, straining against the material, and you felt him stir with interest when you mouthed at him through the fabric. Coquettish licks lapping hot against the length of him and making his hips reflexively shift forward, unconsciously chasing the stimulation. You licked and sucked until there was a noticeable wet patch, doing your best to show that your apology was sincere and give him your full attention. 

But that was hard to do when his brothers were busy giving you their full attention.

Seokjin was in a trance, fingers sinking into your thighs so he could properly hammer into you. Thrusts steady and coaxing your pussy to leak its praises, your thighs sticky with your essence. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, was getting noticeably antsy beneath you, fingers increasingly twitching against your damp skin the longer his brothers got more of your attention. You looked down, and the furrow of his brow and downturn of his lips were your last clues to his growing jealousy before he took action, hand reaching up to drag through the mess you were making before his thumb sought your clit, rolling and pinching. You bucked and squealed, the extra stimulation rocking you to your core and making your walls pulse dangerously enough that you found yourself squirming to escape him, grabbing Tae’s wrist for the second time that night in an act of self-preservation.

He was undeterred, rerouting his focus to your chest instead. With impatient hands, he yanked on the cups of your bodysuit, a concerning ripping noise immediately filling the room at the action. Before you could even say anything, he was already lifting his head to eagerly bite and suckle on your newly freed tits, tongue curling around a pebbled nipple and mumbling “I’ll buy you another one.”

Switching from one erogenous zone to another did nothing to quell your desire, but at least the stimulation wasn’t as intense. This you could safely enjoy, lashes fluttering, chest inadvertently pushing further into his face in silent encouragement.

And encourage you did, Taehyung creating enough suction with his mouth to properly burst capillaries. Contentedly littering your skin with marks you allowed, comfortable in knowing this was a region easily covered by your clothes. 

Determined not to lose focus, you leaned forward again to continue giving Namjoon your full attention, trying to strategize the best way to get at him without using your hands. But either Namjoon finally decided to take pity on you or he was getting impatient too, because it was his own hands that reached down, only bothering to disturb his waistband enough to free his already leaking cock.

You didn’t know if it was a conditioned response from your past escapades or simply the extremely sexy sight of him giving himself a few firm, confident pumps. Either way, you felt it when you started to salivate, aching to properly taste him.

Your enthusiasm must have shown on your face, because the blond man simply smirked down at you knowingly, thumb slowly running over a prominent vein and further smearing his own mess around. “Well?” he prompted, almost sounding bored. You knew he wasn’t. That he was rock hard and dribbling precum, that his eyes were hooded yet laser-focused on the way his brothers devoured you—those were clues enough. Still, you couldn’t help the fire his feigned disinterest lit low in your belly, desperate to please him.      

You started low, turning your head so you could playfully tongue first at his balls before making the long trek up the massive length of him, taking care not to accidentally involve your teeth from the way Seokjin’s thrusts were rocking you forward. Finally, you took him in your mouth, suckling on the weeping head. Humming contentedly at the salty taste and meeting his blown eyes from beneath your lashes.

Namjoon’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything, hips twitching forward when you pressed your tongue into his slit.

You didn’t notice at first. To be fair, you were plenty preoccupied with everything else going on, with all other sensations. So you didn’t notice Taehyung’s hand drifting over your hip until he was cupping one of your asscheeks, fingers teasing further inward. 

Before you could say anything, a finger sunk itself into your cunt, right next to where Jin was still plowing into you. You groaned, eyes rolling back at the added stretch, but the oldest brother wasn’t as pleased by the intrusion.    

“Taehyung,” he said gruffly, voice deep with irritation and thinly-veiled hunger. But Tae just pumped the long digit into you a few times and then slowly backtracked, lightly trailing the slick back up the cleft of your ass.

“Relax,” came Tae’s mellow reply, and when he started circling a questioning finger around your rim, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Seokjin. 

Still, you shivered, breath stuttering when you realized where this was going. When the finger did nothing more than circle and lightly press against you, you released Namjoon’s cockhead from between your lips, eyes fluttering. “Yes,” you breathed hot against Namjoon’s crotch, understanding what Tae was wordlessly asking you. 

A glance down produced Taehyung, eyes all pupil, tongue lolling thoughtfully in his mouth as he watched you tremble above him, tits rippling and swaying from Seokjin’s force. Finger mindlessly continuing the massaging of your hole. He locked eyes with you, making sure he understood, and then slowly started pressing the slick digit into your asshole.

You whimpered, fighting against your instinct to clamp down on him. Relax. Relax. It didn’t hurt exactly—was just pressure where you weren’t used to having any. And Tae made sure to go at a glacial pace, made sure to keep massaging your insides, to help you acclimate to the intrusion. 

Distantly, you felt Jin’s thrusts slow to something much more languid, and you had a feeling the way your body was opening up for his youngest brother was more than a little distracting.

“Good?” Tae asked shakily, sinking into you bit by bit. 

“Yes,” you slurred, completely fucked out. Tae’s always had large hands with long, elegant fingers, and right now, when he kept going further and further in, you were becoming privy to just how long they actually were. Your eyes threatened to roll back when his last knuckle finally breached you, and when he gave you a cursory tap after a few seconds, you had to swallow a moan. 

Rather affectionately, Namjoon started caressing your face, bringing your attention back to him. Dazed, you put him back in your mouth, continuing to suck him and trying not to think about how Seokjin was revving his pace back up and Taehyung was tapping your insides in tandem. Namjoon just smiled softly down at you, and it was so sweet that you almost don’t see what happened next coming, too preoccupied with everything else that was going on. Gently, his hand drifted up—and gripped you securely by the hair, cock suddenly surging down your throat. You immediately gagged, throat repeatedly convulsing around him, and he grunted appreciatively at the feeling before pulling all the way out. Cheeks still sweetly dimpling at how wrecked you were.

And wrecked was the only way to describe you. You were gasping, jaw glistening with spit. Eyes watering and whole body twitching from all the relentless stimulation.

Namjoon only gave you a few seconds to gain your bearings before a pull of your hair had your head snapping back. Before his cock was pushing back into your panting mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat this time, taking stuttered breaths from your nose when his fucking began in earnest. Tried your best to ignore the way your jaw threatened to lock from trying to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

It was a lot. You were feeling sensations from so many areas at once—ass, tits, mouth, cunt—that your brain was absolutely swirling trying to figure out which brother’s ministrations it should be focusing on. And though the pleasure pumping through you was borderline unbearable, you couldn’t even let that overflow of emotion out, your wails stuck bubbling in your chest because you were too busy lewdly gargling on Namjoon’s cock.

You remembered, all those months ago when you’d first been considering whether you should take this job, how you'd poured yourself another glass of wine and reread the contact for the nth time thinking well, I guess I do have three holes. That’s certainly convenient. 

Now that it was happening, however—now that all three of your holes were stuffed and both your mouth and your pussy were dribbling and messy and straining with effort—now, it was nothing short of intense. Nothing hurt, but you were so completely and entirely overwhelmed by all of the feeling that you thought you might just simply burst, your nerve endings crackling free and raining over the room like fireworks.  

It’s too much. It was too much, but right when you were starting to consider giving Namjoon two taps on the wrist—a metaphorical yellow—he backed off on his own, easing some of the pressure. And suddenly your mouth was free, a string of saliva still connecting you to his glistening cock before the tension of him stepping back eventually made it snap.  

Namjoon had eased some of the pressure, but he couldn’t stop more from surging forward in its place. Your body could only take so much of their tortuous teasing before it succumbed to its baser instincts, and it seemed you had finally reached your boiling point. In a trance, you pressed your hips backwards to meet Seokjin’s next stroke, forcing him deeper inside you and making you both shudder. And that small action was all the encouragement he needed, his primal instincts screaming at him to ruin you.

Drilling into you with new purpose, Jin fucked the remaining breath out of your lungs, staccatoed bursts of ah ah ah pouring from your drooling mouth. Panting like an animal in heat, moaning so wantonly that you would be embarrassed if you weren’t already so completely braindead with pleasure. 

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathed, watching your rapid unraveling in amazement. “You’re so fucking hot. Fuck.”

Before even realizing what was happening, you finally shattered around him, your bones liquifying at the intensity and causing you to collapse on Tae, writhing and choking into his neck.

“There you go,” Jin encouraged, words wobbling as he tried to weather the force of how tightly your walls were squeezing him.

Taehyung was curling his finger within you to lengthen your orgasm, was absently rubbing your back to guide you through it. “So perfect,” he whispered, lips fondly brushing against your temple while you shook.

When it finally ended you were left twitching and sensitive, too dizzy from the sheer force of your climax to register the thunder rolling across Namjoon’s face.

His brothers did, though.

An audible squelch filled the room when, without warning, Seokjin pulled completely out of you. Confused, you looked over your shoulder at him, only to suddenly find yourself lifted and tilted, Taehyung surging upright and taking you with him. Unprepared to catch yourself, your back easily hit the mattress, now finding yourself looking up at the three brothers who hovered over you.   

“Hmmm.” Namjoon pretended to think, tone calm but eyes steely. “I could have sworn I specifically told you not to do that.”

“You did,” Jin cut in mildly, looking between the two of you curiously.

Your eyes widened, unprepared for this turn of events. You never would have pegged Jin as such an instigator, but apparently he was very interested in seeing the consequences of your continued disobedience.

Your betrayal must have shown on your face, because Seokjin’s lips pursed in amusement. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “You’ve been so good for me, but we have to be fair. And unlike Taehyung, I know how to share.”

“Am I or am I not sharing right now?” Tae griped, unamused by the dig. But you were no longer paying those two any attention, your focus now fully on Namjoon and the leisurely way he was now stripping out of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you hedged, knowing before you even said the words that they would do jack shit to appease him. “It just felt too good…”

Namjoon raised an unimpressed eyebrow, throwing his t-shirt on the floor as if it offended him. “All you keep saying is sorry,” he mused. Down went his pants and underwear, kicked out of his way. His knee hit the mattress, Taehyung shifting to the side so Namjoon could finally stalk over to where you lay, fucked open and wet. Cautiously, you met his stare, the breath halting in your lungs when you recognized the retribution that was undoubtedly about to come. 

“But sorry means nothing if you don’t modify your behavior,” he tsked, eyes darkening. “So. I don’t believe you.”

That was all the warning you got before he was crowding into your space, grabbing you by the ankles and hooking them over his shoulders. Caging you in with his body, pressing close enough that his cock easily slid over the mess of your cunt, making you mewl at the sensation.

And that involuntary reaction didn’t seem to help your case with Namjoon. “More?” he scoffed, seemingly displeased, though the way he rocked his length through the seam of you told a different story. “After all that, you still want more?”

You were exhausted, thighs still quivering from your last orgasm. But you couldn’t help the way the weight of his body and the slide of his cock were causing your pussy to pulse. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed, angling your hips down so you could deliciously meet him on his upstroke.

“And it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” he mocked, spearing you to the hilt in one go. You choked at the intrusion, not expecting him to enter you so suddenly. At this point, you were fully prepped enough to take him, but, like his brothers, Namjoon was still a lot to take all at once.

Particularly when he had already made up his mind that the best way to punish you was with his cock.

You quickly gathered his gameplay from the immediate way he started rutting into you, not giving you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Simply railing you into the mattress, your legs over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep enough for you to feel it in your throat.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, fingers curling in the sheets, biting down on your lip enough to taste metal. “Fuck fuck—”

“What?” he taunted, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Making sure he scraped your g-spot on every thrust. “This is what you wanted, remember? And it’s all about what you want.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You could already feel yourself ready to clamp down again, your extremely sensitive pussy overreactive to any and all stimulation. “I want it, I want it, yesss—”

He pressed impossibly closer, bending you enough that you felt the burning strain in your legs, and that did the trick. Before you could nervously start to ponder whether you were flexible enough for what he wanted to do, you were cumming, hard, back attempting to bow with the force of it but only succeeding in making your whole body lock up and your vision blur.

Namjoon didn’t slow down during your climax, and he certainly didn’t slow down after. He fucked you like a machine, undeterred by how your pulsing walls tried to suck him in and keep him there. Undeterred by how you hopelessly whined and squirmed in overstimulation. And when you suddenly heard a familiar buzzing noise, there was nothing you could do but meet his intense gaze with wide, alarmed eyes.

“What?” he demanded, pressing your long-forgotten wand vibrator right on your clit and making you immediately jerk. The caramel of his skin was already glistening and beading with sweat, but he seemed long from tired. “You think you can cum on everbody’s dick but mine?”

It was too much, the near animalistic pace of his fucking paired with how high he had turned the vibrator making your hands shoot up, scrabbling along his biceps in a panicked response, your body now entirely on autopilot, desperately trying to save itself from its fate. 

“Please,” you heard yourself beg, choking at the intensity. Legs jerking uselessly on his shoulders, nails scratching marks down his skin.

But the word that would make him stop never passed your lips. And so he continued to ignore your unsuccessful struggling, fucking you right back to orgasm, this time somehow even stronger than the last and stealing all air from your lungs.

He felt it, of course. Felt exactly how hard you were squeezing him, the tight grip of your pussy evoking the grit of his teeth. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to milk me,” he growled, moving the vibrator away from you just enough for you to suck in a breath. “Come on, take this dick since you want it so bad. Take it!” 

And you had no choice but to take it, trying your best not to black out as he forced the coil within you to snap, again and again. You were shrieking, but you couldn’t even perceive your own actions anymore, swept completely by his unforgiving undertow of pain-lined pleasure. Namjoon was fucking you stupid, scrambling your brain as easily as if it were an egg, forcing you to your most primal of reactions, your most basest of self. Thrashing beneath him, desperate tears trickling down your cheeks, spit freely trickling from your wailing mouth.

It felt neverending, this exquisite torture, and just when you were starting to get distressed about how much longer you would be able to take it, Namjoon’s thrusts started to turn sloppy.

“This is all you wanted, right?” he panted, hips stuttering. A welcome warning for what was soon to come. His focus rapidly shifted from your orgasm to his own, and the way he tossed the still buzzing vibrator to the side was nothing short of impatient.

You blinked up blearily at him, the reduction in stimulation helping you slowly return to your body after being stuck the stratosphere. 

“Wanted my nut? Agreed to fuck all of us at once just so you could get more of it, isn’t that right, babygirl?”

His intense stare told you he expected an answer, but all you could do was whine in response, hesitant to admit it. Pussy pulsing at the very visual he had conjured up. Warily, you glanced at the other two brothers, nervous at what you might find there, but one look quickly evaporated all uncertainty.

Though they had moved out of the way for Namjoon, they hadn’t moved far—still close enough for you to reach out and touch, still close enough for them to hover over you and get a close view of the action. Still close enough for you to see understanding dawn across Seokjin’s face, to see pure astonishment take over Taehyung’s.

Namjoon spotted your division in attention and was having none of it, a hand guiding your jaw until you were focusing on him again. “You like being a dirty cumslut,” he prompted mildly, your heart racing in response. Slipping a thumb between your plush lips and humming approvingly when you sucked on it, tongue twirling. “Don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned hoarsely, the very admission making your whole body vibrate. The continued hammering of your sensitive core making you want to reflexively squirm away, though Namjoon’s heavy body ensured you had nowhere to go.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being a dirty cumslut.”

Taehyung whimpered, and it was easy for you to deduce from the rapid movement you could see from the corner of your eye that he was jacking himself off while watching you. Well and truly done with delaying his own pleasure.

And from the rather manic way Namjoon was looking at you, he was obviously on the same wavelength. “And do you know how much cumsluts love it?” A quick swipe of his tongue over his panting lips. “They want it in them. On them.”

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, nearly sobbing at the strength your want. Your head whipping around, desperately pleading with all three of them. ���Please let me have it! I’ve been so good, please—”

“Holy shit,” Tae groaned, eyes rolling back in his head. “Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you it all. You want it all?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes yes yesyesyes—”

Abruptly, Taehyung was pushing forward into your space, hovering more directly over you and treating you to the sight of how those long fingers were furiously pumping his cock. He was panting, a prominent vein in his neck visible because of his efforts, little whines escaping him as he viciously worked his slick length.

There was shifting on your other side, and your focus immediately turned to Seokjin. He looked back at you dazedly, lips parted, chest flushed at your attention.  

“Please?” you whimpered, fully aware how pathetic you must have looked but not giving a single shit. So long as you got what you wanted. You needed them to give you what you wanted.

The oldest immediately softened at your pleading, always so willing and eager to please you. “Of course,” he breathed, hand already moving over himself with long, tight strokes. He shivered, hips reflexively jumping forward at the stimulation. “W-Where?”

A shift, and Namjoon was pulling back from you, maneuvering your legs back to the bed and sitting back on his haunches. Despite this new position, he never let his cock leave the comfort of your walls, continuing to hammer into you, jaw locked in concentration, balls smacking into your ass with a lewd slapping sound. Focused only on racing to the finish line.

“Anywhere,” you shuddered. “Everywhere, just…” Your entire body was on fire and you could barely take it, the anticipation of what was about to happen making you writhe over the sheets, whimpering pathetically. Your tongue lolling out your gasping mouth, an eager target.

And then finally—finally—you were given what you asked for. Loud, uncontrolled moans spilled from Taehyung’s lips, swiftly becoming desperate before one last squeeze of his cock had him cumming, his release spraying hot all over your breasts and slowly trailing through your cleavage. 

You moaned with him, delight buzzing through your veins at being marked so intimately, and the sound seemed to trigger Namjoon, who immediately pulled out of you, expertly pumped himself a few times, and then ejaculated with a long, drawn-out grunt. After essentially edging himself for most of the night, the amount of cum he gifted you was more than generous, most of it painting your pussy in long ropes, but some of it inevitably ending up on your belly with how aggressively he was jerking himself off.      

The sight of it all, the feeling, was so unbearably hot that you almost came untouched, eyes rolling back, pussy pulsing with interest despite how exhausted you were. And your obvious pleasure was what finally set off Jin, teeth digging into his lower lip while his seed spurted white across the lower half of your face and slid down your jaw, some of it delightedly landing on your awaiting tongue. 

You hummed contentedly, immediately licking the thick, heady remnants from your lips so you wouldn’t waste a drop. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands slowly and sensually trailing over your own body. Basking in it all. Purposely smearing their mess over wider stretches of skin—pinching gently at your nipples, dragging your fingers between your tits, gliding over your hips, drawing light, sticky figure eights around your clit before dipping a bit lower and slipping two cum-coated digits inside your hot walls. Your hips twitched, lazily chasing the intrusion on reflex. Simply enjoying being so completely and utterly satisfied.   

You were so transfixed and in your own world that you completely forgot about the three other people still in the room, greedily feasting on the undeniably filthy way you savored what they gave you. You weren’t sure how long they let you be, but it was a voice finally breaking the silence that slowly lured back to reality.          

“_____?” 

The voice was gentle, yet deep, the spell cast over you immediately broken at the sound of it. It was Namjoon, hovering over you again, lips quirking into a small smile as he watched the fog disperse from your eyes. “How do you feel?”

You let out a satisfied sigh, pulling your fingers out of your pussy with hum. “Tired,” you admitted, voice raspy from the activities. “But amazing.”

His smile widened, cheeks dimpling. “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Taehyung was laying on the bed with you, arms wrapped around your sticky form. Just like always, his sweaty body slotted easily against yours, happily nuzzling his face into your neck and apparently wholly unfazed about the fact that you were completely covered in spunk. “You’re amazing,” he chirped, pressing a flurry of kisses into your skin and making you giggle. “You know, when you told me you liked cum forever ago, I didn’t realize this was what you meant.” 

“You never asked,” you shrugged, somehow still timid despite everything that had just happened. “What did you want me to say, exactly? Hey Tae, do you mind doing me a solid and shooting the club up? Or maybe can you give me a nice, relaxing facial?”

The pure bafflement of his expression had you laughing again. “In what world would I ever say no to that?” he demanded incredulously. 

Amused by the turn in conversation, Seokjin bent down to press his lips against your forehead in gratitude before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“Of course,” you replied, moving to direct him to your bathroom before Namjoon stopped you with a pat on the thigh.

“I’ll show him.”

You couldn’t help but watch their strong, naked forms leave the room, eyes drawn to the musculature of their backs and buttocks.

“Hey.” Tae poked you in the cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes from catching your ogling. “Focus. I’m talking to you.”

“What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” 

He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, though he was undeterred from getting the answers he sought.

“I told you what I wanted,” he reminded you gently, pressing another kiss against your jaw. “You know you could have done the same.”

You shifted in his hold, sheepish. “Tae, all of this isn’t really about me…”

“What, so just because we’re paying you, you’re not supposed to enjoy it too?” he scoffed. “Baby, as we’ve just proven tonight, it’s more fun when we all have fun.”

“I always have fun!” you protested, but you were prevented from elaborating by Namjoon returning with a washcloth. He climbed back on the bed, reaching for your ankles and guiding them apart.

“Open,” he directed, his tone containing none of the dominance it often had when he usually uttered the word. You obediently followed his instruction, a soft sigh escaping your lips when he pressed the warm cloth against your thoroughly battered netherparts and started cleaning you up. 

For a little bit, Taehyung watched your makeshift bath in silence, not even saying anything when Namjoon left to rinse off the towel and came back with a freshly damp one, gliding over the stained skin of your face and chest before they started to crust over. In fact, Tae didn’t speak again until your spot bath was finished and Namjoon was clambering back in the bed with the two of you, an arm slinging low over your waist as to not disturb where Tae’s rested. Pulling you against him until your chests were flush.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us on our trip?” You could feel Taehyung’s pout against your skin, displeased at the idea of being away from you for three weeks.

You huffed out a laugh, slinging a leg over Namjoon’s hip to settle more comfortably into your new position as the filling of a TaeJoon sandwich. “I’m positive. I have a lot studying to do and frankly, I’m not completely sure I can walk anymore.”

“Who said you need to walk?” Namjoon cut in sleepily. 

“We can pay someone to walk for you,” came Tae’s enthusiastic, yet ridiculous offer. “We’ll be going to meetings, but you can just roam the city if you want. Or relax at the hotel. You can lounge by the pool all day and put all your food and drinks on our tab.” 

Though it certainly sounded tempting, you were fully aware what the tradeoff of that makeshift vacation would be, and the absolute last thing you wanted to think about after the crazy intense session you just experienced was sex. So, despite Taehyung’s wheedling, you managed to stand firm in your decision, completely fine with waiting until they were back in the country to even consider spreading your legs for any of them again.

And you were justified when Seokjin finally reappeared, fully clothed, rubbing a towel through his hair, and informing you that his assistant Wendy would be in touch to schedule his next session for sometime after he returned.

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

[princesskenny1998]

MHA | Bakugou Katsuki x proHero!reader ~ Ship

As a newly debuted pro hero with a unique and rather unconventional quirk you’d quickly gained a following, along with some reputation in the field. Though your career was young, people noticed you, both for your fierce and chaotic fighting style and your public persona that fans couldn’t help but love.

However, none of that could prepare you for the strange twist in popularity that arrived one morning when you checked your phone and found countless tags linking you to none other than Dynamight himself. Social media was flooded with fan edits, speculations, and even a hashtag dedicated to the two of you as a “power couple.” And sure, Dynamight was undeniably attractive and undeniably talented, but you’d never even met him.

As you scrolled through one edit—one where someone had cut together footage of you and Dynamight side by side, looking fierce and intimidating—you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. The idea of you and Dynamight as a duo was amusing at best, although you had to admit it didn’t look half-bad.

By noon, your agent called.

“Hey, you’ve seen the social media storm, right?” they asked, barely containing their excitement.

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, still a bit amused. “Is this really something to be concerned about?”

“Well, here’s the thing: the higher-ups in the agency think this might actually be good for both your PR and Dynamight’s,” they said. “It’s an opportunity to build more buzz around you as a new hero. The public loves the idea of a ‘Power Couple,’ you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but the idea of meeting Dynamight did intrigue you, just a little. He was known for his relentless drive and hard-hitting quirk. People idolized him for his intensity and strength. However, his temper was also notorious, and you were almost certain that meeting him would be anything but a smooth experience.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” you asked, giving in.

“We’re arranging for you two to meet up. You’ll both be aware of it, and the plan is to pair you up on a mission soon after. Nothing crazy, just something to get people talking.”

And just like that, you were locked in.

The day of your arranged meeting arrived, and you made your way to the agency’s assigned training facility, knowing Dynamight would already be there. A part of you felt nervous—Bakugou Katsuki, aka Dynamight, was known for his intensity, and his fanbase was as devoted as they came. You weren’t sure how this would go.

As you approached the entrance, you took a deep breath and opened the door to see him standing there, arms crossed, eyes locked on you the moment you entered.

“Hey,” you greeted, flashing a small smile. “[Hero Name]. But you probably know that already.”

Bakugou looked at you, sizing you up as if trying to assess just what kind of person his PR had paired him with. “Yeah, I know. Dynamight,” he said bluntly.

The initial interaction was stiff, almost forced. After all, you were both here because someone else thought it would be a good idea, not because you had a real connection.

However, as the training session progressed, things began to change. Your quirks were oddly complementary. Bakugou’s explosive power matched well with your abilities. You found yourself enjoying the way you could support each other’s moves, almost instinctively.

Bakugou, too, seemed to loosen up slightly, impressed by your control over your unique quirk.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a rare compliment slipping out as you finished a drill.

“Coming from you, that’s high praise,” you replied with a smirk, enjoying the way his eyebrow twitched.

He scoffed, but you could tell he was secretly amused. Maybe this team-up wouldn’t be so bad.

Over the next few weeks, you and Dynamight were scheduled for more and more joint missions, and as you spent more time together, the initial awkwardness started to melt away. Bakugou’s abrasive demeanor softened, though only slightly, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. Sure, he could be intense, but there was something refreshing about his straightforwardness.

As you both walked down a dimly lit street after a particularly grueling mission, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“So, how does it feel to be in the tabloids with a new ‘partner’?” you asked, waggling your eyebrows.

He groaned. “Don’t even get me started. All these idiots are so focused on ‘shipping’ they forget I’m here to do my job.”

“But hey, it’s not all bad,” you replied, smirking. “We make a pretty good team.”

He stopped, glancing over at you. “Yeah… you’re alright,” he said, with a small shrug. Coming from Bakugou, you knew that was a lot.

As time went on, your friendship deepened, slowly shifting into something more. You didn’t talk about it, but there were lingering glances, casual touches, and inside jokes. You were drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated, and you could sense he felt the same.

One evening, after another mission, you found yourselves alone in his apartment. You were both exhausted, but there was a comfortable tension hanging in the air. You leaned against the counter, watching him as he grabbed water for you both.

“Y’know,” you said, your voice softer than usual, “I didn’t think I’d actually end up liking you."

He rolled his eyes, handing you a water bottle. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park either, you know that?”

You laughed, shaking your head, but before you knew it, he was standing closer, his gaze intense.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, the realization that you’d just used his first name hitting you both.

And then, he kissed you.

The kiss was intense, filled with unspoken feelings that had built up over weeks. It was a release of all the tension, the anticipation, and the undeniable connection that had grown between you.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a bit breathless, staring at each other in shock and awe.

“Guess the fans were right,” you murmured, smiling.

Bakugou scoffed, though there was a softness in his eyes. “Idiots got lucky,” he muttered, his fingers gently grazing your cheek.

Despite your best efforts to keep things quiet, the media eventually caught on to your relationship. You’d been careful, but somehow, a photographer managed to capture a shot of the two of you sharing a kiss after a mission. The photo spread like wildfire, turning into a front-page scandal within hours.

At first, the agency was nervous. Relationships between pro heroes were a delicate subject, and the media frenzy wasn’t helping.

But Bakugou was unbothered, almost amused by the whole thing. “Let them talk,” he said dismissively, his arm draped around your shoulders as you both watched the news from his apartment.

You laughed, leaning into him. “Guess there’s no point in hiding it anymore, huh?”

“Damn right,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The public’s reaction was mixed. Some fans were thrilled that their “ship” had sailed, while others expressed shock and disbelief. But for you and Bakugou, the opinions of strangers didn’t matter. You were happy, and that was enough.

As the initial frenzy died down, your relationship became more accepted, and you and Bakugou continued to fight side by side, a true power couple in the pro hero world. You balanced each other perfectly, your quirks complementing each other in ways you’d never imagined.

One evening, as you both sat on the roof of his building, watching the city lights, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn your life had taken.

“Did you ever think it’d turn out like this?” you asked, glancing over at him.

He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile crossing his face. “Nah. But I wouldn’t change it.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling at peace.

[gemsofgreece]

P.O.P: A masterpost!

Given that this is a blog about Greece, I suppose it's only fair to discuss what is going on in Greece right now. We're in the mid of an interesting, maybe unusual (if not unprecedented) cultural phenomenon. And I am seeing that splinters from this explosion have even reached Tumblr.

Chapters:

Preface

The Album

The Songs

Preface

The artist that represented Greece in Eurovision this year, Marina Satti, is not exactly a newcomer. She's actually involved with the music and general artistic industry of the country pretty much in the last 15 - 18 years. However, it was only eight years ago when she decided to put her phobias and anxieties aside and claim a prominent role as a solo singer and performer of her own work. In those eight years, she had the tendency to appear suddenly, go viral with one song or one project, then disappear and repeat that cycle over and over. In 2022 she eventually released her first album YENNA (=birth), celebrated by fans and music critics, and from that point onwards she started building a more consistent career, more open to the exposure of the audience and the media alike.

In late 2023 she was announced as the representative of Greece in Eurovision. In March 2024 she released the song for the contest, Zari, which sort of shocked a large part of the population for many reasons that I do NOT ascribe to, half of which should be studied in Greek sociology. (The song has literally 0 shocking elements.) From that point onwards, an unbelievable war was unleashed against her, not only by people, but also by other celebrities and the media, all while she was trying to prepare for her Eurovision performance. Satti defended her song Zari but except for rare incidents, she mostly avoided commenting or answering back to the hate she was receiving. This mass assault persisted and continued even when she lost her father three weeks before she had to fly to Sweden for the contest.

Her days and rehearsals in Malmö, Sweden weren't exactly good either but I have analyzed what she went through in another post already. On top of everything else, in the press conference of the qualifiers for the final, she feigned disinterest towards the Israeli participation for the obvious political reasons, a move that doubled the hatred she was receiving from the Greek government, Greek national TV broadcaster, half the people and all the Israeli, Jewish people and Israel supporters who unleashed a well organized cancel campaign against her. Unlike what happened with the Belgian, the Dutch and the Irish participants, the Greek TV broadcaster did not support or protect Satti but instead forced her to revoke, in supposed fear of a diplomatic episode (for a yawn in a pop song contest, mind you).

Marina Satti and her song Zari for Greece got the eleventh place in the final, which caused confusion anew in the country, as the fans were not happy but still content with the result, while the haters wanted to blame her for missing the Top 10 but had a hard time proving themselves right for having predicted a disaster or a disqualification.

In any case, with her unconventional song and her very charismatic if a little loud persona in Eurovision, Satti managed to quickly build a small European fan community. A few days after the final, Zari started climbing the global charts (it's #16 in the Global Viral Chart as we speak, a first for a Greek lyric song).

Four days after the contest, Satti strategically released her second album, called P.O.P.

The album

P.O.P. has become single-handedly the talk of the town in Greece, in a way that I don't remember happening enough for other artists and certainly not for a woman. To be honest, I don't remember another famous woman doing what Marina did here. Part of the novelty of this album is that its main goal is not the music itself but rather expression and it is a manifesto of sorts. But the true novelty is HOW she did it. So let's analyze a bit the genius of P.O.P.:

I call it P.O.P here but the album's title is actually Π.Ο.Π in Greek. Apart from the obvious nod to the pop music genre, Π.Ο.Π. actually stands for P.D.O. (Protected designation of origin). This could be a jab at all those who hated her and questioned her ethnicity for having a Sudanese Arab father and being, ALAS!, only half-Greek, while in the meantime Marina in Sweden was vocally advocating for the support and promotion of the Greek language and Greek ethnic sounds in modern music. So, she's P.D.O., certified GreekTM and pop! This is one of the cleverest album titles I have seen.

Now, let's go to the equally clever cover of the album.

What is only seemingly a rushed design looks like a draft in microsoft paint. It looks like the colour base was black which is erased with rushed white brushes, until the white prevails over the black, leaving only a few traces of the darker paint behind (remember, she's half-Greek half-Arab and she receives hate for this). On top of it all, there are several bold brushes of Greece's trademark blue. At the center of the cover we see the title, in the likes of an instant message. P.O.P aka P.D.O. and a Greek flag emoji next to it. Protected Greek origin. Below is her name in Latin characters, with her surname in capital letters, probably a tirbute to her late father. The time of the text message, next to her surname, I wonder whether it is random, but knowing Marina, I have this morbid feeling this time is not random at all. The message is circled with more blue paint and it suspiciouly looks like something is covered under the blue paint, next to the Greek flag. Below the text message, there is an emoji of a goat. This works in three possible ways: a) the goats are a classic image of the Greek countryside, especially Crete island where Marina comes from, b) it is used as the slang G.O.A.T, which is possible given the content of the songs and c) well, it could also serve as a self-deprecating joke idk!

The back of the cover features the names of the songs with a suitable emoji each. The time remains the same, next to the last song, which is the song she dedicated to her father.

The songs

TUCUTUM

Tucutum is a song Marina had releashed as a single last year actually. The reception of this song was very interesting because before Eurovision it had almost as many dislikes as likes. You see, it was Marina's song that made Greeks remember they actually like quality music. An extremely hypocritical attitude since more young Greeks than I care to admit like trap music. And I am listening to it and I am pretty sure Marina's trap is rocket science compared to the average trap of the... uh... proper trappers. And yet the trappers get nowhere near as many dislikes. But there is an explanation even for this: Marina blends Greek, other Balkan and Romani cultural elements, she indirectly trashes the biggest political party of the 80s-90s (largely responsible for the financial crisis), she directly addresses her haters, "who do nothing but say, say, say" and states it's her time to be heard. In the music video, she is supposedly the guest singer in such a feast of mixed cultures where men drink and celebrate to a decadent degree. When Marina breaks her trapping to intersect with a beautiful melodic bridge which is the part she was practicing the most before she arrived, therefore what she truly cared to express, a short ballad expressing her dream to fly away free like a bird, only a little girl listens to her in hope, while all the men have dropped unconscious due to their decandence. In the end of the feast, women discard the unconscious men in trucks. So you see, there is cultural, political and gender commentary. Too much for a braindead type of Greek to deal with, so let's just pretend we suddenly hate trap.

2. ZARI

As already stated, Zari was the Greek song for Eurovision. The lyrics is a blend of a regular love song, her exorcising her anxiety for the contest and multiple sly references to her older songs as a treat to her fans. She did once more something amazing - the song is sort of jarring and crazy because it combines many music genres. Instead of toning it down with the music video, she went all in and created an even crazier albeit ingenious video targeting foreign viewers. This time, Marina is a lowkey insane tour guide helping an unsuspecting typical "German tourist" (fun fact: the actor is actually an American retiree in Greece!) navigate and explore what seems to be an Athens-on-drugs. This once again made "proud"(?) Greeks protest that "this is not what Greece truly is", entirely missing the point that Marina didn't even have to do a travel promo in the first place. My humble opinion is that Greece is A LOT of things and when all of these are compressed in a presentation under 3 minutes with a touch of humour, it can totally give an on-drugs vibe. In truth, Marina didn't lie about anything she showed. She was proven right again, with most foreign people loving the video and her perception of Athens, including the winner of this year's public vote, Croatia's Baby Lasagna, who praised her for having the best music video this year. Objectively, she did.

3. STIN IYIA MAS

Now we go to the new, post-Eurovision songs. This is a pure song for a feast, where the composition belongs to Marios Tsitsopoulos, an artist I don't know much about but the general vibes are bouzoukia, ethnic, folk, balkan, arabic, a bit of trap, world etc. It's an easy, cheerful song and Satti elevates it with her angelic voice. So far, so good. (NOTE: There is a lyric there, she says she is swimming in the Aegean Sea but calls for he love to take her out so she won't drown. This is not an unusual lyric trope in Greek but keep it in mind for later.)

4. LALALALA

This is a song that takes you aback with it's childlike, unreserved joyousness. It almost feels like a musical "talk to the hand while I go lalalala" to the haters. It is basically Greek island folk turned into pop and the lyrics are pure innocent happiness, perhaps also paying tribute to classic Greek movies of the 50s-60s. I don't know if Marina filmed the music video before or after the ageists went berserk against her (she's 37 and everyone acts like she's 87) but the music video for this song, intentionally or unintentionally, is the most epic fuck you to the ageists. Marina, all people in our 30s are with you!!! The music video has had more than 1 million views in under 48 hours, a huge success in our small country. She's going viral. Again.

5. EIMAI KALA!!!!!!!!

The party is officially over. Again, this album is more of an experience than purely music. In this track, which is under one minute, the album features a Greek life coach recommending some positive affirmations for happiness, love, career etc. In short, that is a jab for what Marina has to do to deal with all the changes in her life and also all the good and all the bad vibes she has received.

6. MIXTAPE

If everything else wasn't bold enough, here we are. Mixtape. The 10-minute descent into madness. Ultimately, this is what makes this album what it is more than anything else. A song that is resolutely not a song and yet everyone admits that they have been listening to it again and again, either trying to understand everything or dancing to it as if it is actually a song. The funniest comment I saw about it is someone saying: "my mom entered the room as I was listening to this and I switched it to porn because at this point it is easier to explain". XD This could serve as one of those youtube videos about "what schizophrenia feels like". There is no way Mixtape can be effectively translated into English. In short, it is her answer to all the hate (or some of it, for the full deal Mixtape should be one hour long) in a delirious way through a patch of sounds and songs. There is trap in there, a famous bouzoukia singer whose lyrics can incidentally be used as Marina's commentary for the haters, she warns and reminds of her first song TUCUTUM, saying "didn't I say back then I am ready to speak now", she says she managed to shut the haters up, there is direct address for the criticism for Zari, she's mocking the lyricist who claimed copyright violation for the lyric "ta ta ta ta" (for real), she features (surely to her ignorance) a song from the singer that called her song "cat vomit", she features other trappers making a commentary on the Balkan ways of a Greece that pretends to be West Europe, she mocks those who obsess over Bouzoukia but become music critics when it comes to her, she mentions Eurovision, I think she also makes some references to Ireland's and Malta's songs (not negative), she speaks of a man that I am not sure who is supposed to be, many more things that I haven't fully deciphered, then she has like a kid song praying to Virgin Mary for a miracle for all this madness to stop before (tw) she loses her mind and falls from a cliff, then some more stuff, then suddenly a catholic Hallelujah is heard (implying the miracle has happened) and then she returns to the kid song but her voice sounds more mature than before and she goes like: "Sike I lied to you, thanks to Virgin Mary I don't care anymore, I am off to my vacation, I don't give a fuck and BYE". I don't think this has happened before by a Greek artist, especially in such a way. And I am so delighted that it is a woman who did this. This has attracted so much interest and curiosity around her, her personality. She is THE talk right now. Hats off, honestly. We wish non-Greek speakers could really fathom what is going on here but after all, she made this for us only... and it is...an experience.

7. AH THALASSA

In another 180 degree turn, this is a very emotional ballad for the loss of her father. She ends this frankly lunatic album by allowing access to her psyche, the suffering she went through all this time and never let it show. The title means "Oh, sea", where she implores the sea to take her down and drown her (notice the contrast with the lyrics in STIN IYIA MAS, that I mentioned). The ballad is sweetly haunting, Marina sounds truly like a siren mourning. But even here we get a taste of the ever surprising gem Satti is. The last part of the song is instrumental and as the music reaches its climax, the song ends straight away, right before the highest note in a morbid metaphor that almost scares you to death. Because that's how death is, especially of a loved one. Always unexpected. (This is the only song of hers so far that her haters have steered clear from and I think this says something.)

So, this is what Greece is basically dealing with now, crazy as it is. We are losing our mind over an artist who is not new, but only recently decided to start revealing all her cards. Furthermore, Satti is about to become known globally or at least beyond Greece's borders. If eventually she doesn't, that will be because she decided against it or she miscalculated greatly. But right now, the stars are on her side and we only need to see what happens next.

[thegreatsinnamonroll]

I am immensely enjoying new people getting into HypMic (mostly on this hellsite fuck Twitter) but you poor babies. Oh my god. You have zero knowledge coming into contact with BAT and Dotsuhon. So here is, admittedly rather condensed, a lore drop and why BAT and DH are important:

Bad Ass Temple

Starting with Nagoya's fiercest, Bad Ass Temple represents courage, standing for what's right, and never backing down.

Their leader, Kuko Harai, is a Buddhist monk (in training), and despite his unconventional appearance and punk-like personality, he's devoted to his faith and friends. Before he was part of BAT, he made friends with Ichiro Yamada after an aggressive fist fight where they were evenly matched. They gained respect for each other and made a team called Naughty Busters. Kuko was eventually brainwashed into leaving Ichiro, after which he went back to school and got in trouble for fighting off bullies from a friend of his.

Jyushi Aimono is a visual kei vocalist for the band Argo Orchestra as well as chunni (like his seiyuu!). He had a deeply troubled past, his parents often ignoring him. Jyushi became extremely close to his grandmother, who made him a small toy pig he named Amanda. He took Amanda everywhere with him, even to school, but a former friend motivated by jealousy relentlessly bullied him and encouraged others to do the same. Eventually Jyushi's grandmother was killed as a result of their hazing, sending Jyushi into a massive spiral.

Hitoya Amaguni is a lawyer who's seemingly only motivated by money, however his true colors shine when he takes on bullying cases. His brother was bullied until it caused his death, and since then Hitoya has been hunting down the people who did it. He has an intense sympathy for Jyushi and Kuko, despite trying to appear as if he doesn't care. He took on Jyushi's case and landed his bullies in prison, as well as clearing Kuko of the charges put against him. Because of their connection, the three of them were able to form Bad Ass Temple under Kuko's guidance.

Dotsuitare Hompo

Dotsuitare Hompo, or Dotsuhon, is a team that always gets back up when they're knocked down, a team that keeps fighting to make their place even if the world is against them. They're fun and engaging, bringing the joys of Osaka to HypMic.

Sasara Nurude may not seem like a leader to the untrained eye, but digging deeper into the comedian's backstory reveals an odd intensity for someone who never stops smiling. Due to his parents' rocky marriage and messy divorce, young Sasara found comfort in comedy and making people laugh. That carried with him to college, where he met his then comedy partner, Rosho. The two took Japan by storm, but a nasty breakup shattered all of Sasara's dreams. He wasn't about to give up, going to Tokyo to get a new outlook, and meeting up with Samatoki Aohitsugi, who, at the time, reminded Sasara of Rosho. A second nasty breakup occurred when Sasara was brainwashed, and the comedian resurfaced later on as the leader of Dotsuhon.

Rosho Tsutsujimori both blends in and stands out. He suffers from intense gifted kid burnout from his parents pushing him in grade school, resulting in him gaining a violent streak that persists to this day. He entered comedy school and formed Dotsuitare Hompo with Sasara until his stage fright and mutual miscommunication broke them apart. Since then, Rosho found a career in not just being a teacher, but being someone who supports and nurtures young talent. Sasara returned to him to have him join the new Dotsuhon, though at first Rosho declined.

Rei is the lore holder here, being the man who developed the Hypnosis Mics and Ramuda Clones. His past is shrouded in mystery, but we know that he only works with the government because they are holding his wife hostage. He calls himself a conman, wickedly intelligent and crafty. He was able to get Dotsuhon together by scamming one of Rosho's students, provoking the teacher enough to get him and Sasara to admit they missed the other.

I tried to make this as basic as possible but feel free to ask about other tidbits, there's a LOT that goes on outside of the anime but it can be hard to find. Anyway I'm Emmet, your local lore keeper!

[dying-birds]

Dying birds (Reverse robins Au)

(storyline part one)

     Damian Wayne's childhood was unconventional, to say the least, raised by assassins only to be dropped off at his father's doorstep for his own protection. Consumed not only by wrath but the overwhelming pressure to please his grandfather, Damian was headed down a dark path of vengeance and blood. A path his father Bruce Wayne, was all too familiar with his father. Bruce took him on as a sidekick hoping to instill the values of justice and human life. Bruce becomes a more lighthearted Batman for Damian's sake.

     After getting settled into his new role Damian was introduced to many other heroes and sidekicks, one of them being a redhead speedster. Wally West aka Kid Flash, may be the most annoying person Damian has ever met and yet he somehow he was also Damian's best friend.

     As Damian grew older he found himself constantly butting heads with his father leading him to move out. A life away from Bruce and the constant fight had done him good Damina even considered doing away with the capes and mask sadly Gotham had other plans for him. Damian had been walking home from the store when he witnessed what appeared to be a mugging. He stepped in and things went south real quickly as he was shot by an unknown marksman. Bruce found his son bleeding out in the streets, a war on Gotham had begun. Damian woke up in a Gotham hospital unable to move his legs. Things were revealed about the mugging turning him bitter toward Bruce. Damian left Gotham altogether and Bruce became a harsher Batman

     Tim Drake a mistreated child with a knack for photography, the next sidekick. Bruce would find this kid standing in the middle of his cave. Batman was on the edge of going rogue, Tim could let that happen. He pushed into taking the mantel out of necessity

     The start of Tim's vigilante career was spent trying to get Bruce and Damian to talk to each other. For all his efforts he was treated horribly, Bruce's training was brutal and Damian treated Him harshly. For a while, Damian blamed Tim for taking his place but the truth was Damian thinks of himself as broken and sees what he could have been in Tim. Tim eventually does break through to Damian and the older boy comes back to Gotham taking up an oracle-type role.

     Damian starts to see Tim as a little brother and enjoys having him around. Not long after Tim meets a ninja girl named Stephine Brown. Through a series of events convinces her to join the bats. Taking her under his wing Tim trains her to take his place so he can leave for a secret project called Titan. Only Steph and Damian know about this project.

     One day on patrol Tim tries to help the wrong person causing him to get shot in the stomach. Tim gets away but he's bleeding heavily. Damian's on the comms trying to help him but everyone is to far away. Tim stumbles through the street before sliding down against a pole. In his last minutes, he talks to Damian and Bruce about how grateful he was to be a bat and tells Stephine how much he appreciated her friendship and how proud he was of her. Damian is on the comms the entire time helpless as his brother dies, his last words I love you guys.

[steelbluehome]

Sebastian Stan from Gossip Girl tells us what it’s like to work with real-life girlfriend, Leighton Meester.

Will your character Carter be back for more seasons?

I leave my options open. I like that. We’ll just have to see exactly what happens with Carter. I’d always like to come back for more, absolutely. I had no expectations or ideas when I went into audition for this role that it was going to be kept around or expand into something like this. I like the show and I’m grateful for it.

What would be your dream role?

I’m really lucky that I’ve got to do theatre in the past, I’m always looking to come back and doing some monster role on the stage at some point, that would be really cool. I can’t wait to see Jude Law in Hamlet, those things seem like such epic ideas, but they’re not. They’re not impossible. I realise a lot of people that do those – and I read up and they’re equally as scared. They’re just driven to do it. Ideally I’d love to do something of that calibre, that size. For theatre you have to be mentally and physically up to the part.

Would you ever consider a music career like girlfriend Leighton?

I’m just gonna keep that for karaoke, I think. I love karaoke. I’m some sort of closet wannabe Guns ’n’ Roses member that wasn’t born in the right time. I don’t know about music, its fun but maybe I’d like to try songwriting or producing or directing. It’d be fun to be able to call the shots on the projects you want to work on.

Did you get to meet Lady Gaga and Hilary Duff when they did cameos on Gossip Girl?

No I was never really around because my scenes never paralleled with theirs.

Which celeb would make a great cameo in the show?

Someone controversial, someone like Molly Ringwald.

Are you jealous your character wasn’t involved in the much hyped threesome this series?

No I didn’t care.

Which character would you like to see Carter hook up with?

I think ideally I would definitely want to act opposite Blair. She’s a really great character.

Do you enjoy fame?

Like Al Pacino would say: I didn’t ask to pull the trigger, but this is the business I chose. It’s in your brain for about five seconds but energy is required in much more important ways.

Have you ever been mistaken for another celeb?

I used to be picked on high school. People were like ‘you look Jason Priestly!’

And I think I was like really overweight when I was in ninth grade high school. People were telling me if Leonardo DiCaprio was to ever get fat I was probably what he would look like.

Do you feel pressure to stay in shape for Gossip Girl?

I think it’s good for an actor to keep in shape for any project. Often it’s required. Actors are athletes in a way, I learnt that in college. It’s fun and it helps you feel good.

What do you do when you’re not working?

New York is a very rich environment. Acting is a pretty unconventional life, you’re always working, in a way. You can relax and go and see a movie, but I always see a performance that inspires me. Or sitting eating and you observe people and characters. Work creeps i0n. I listen to music, I like trying new restaurants things like that.

If you weren’t an actor what would you be doing?

I think I’d make toys. Yeah, I always loved that movie Big where he works for the toy company!

Source: Sebastian Stan

(This link goes to Now To Love magazine, but to the latest issue. Not the 2009 issue)

Posted by zeinitzza in Fan Forum

Anyone who was contemporary with 90210, or who just knows, why is it an insult to say "You look like Jason Priestly"?

I want to kill every person in his high school who made fun of him for being overweight!