#this short man did NOT want to be written

[steveseddie]

helping hand

written for round one of @steddiebingo and the 12 days of Christmas mini-event | prompts: help & thigh fucking | rating: e | wc: 2,1k | no cw | tags: eddie lives, sharing a bed, hand jobs, thigh fucking, cuddling

read on ao3

According to Wayne, Eddie can sleep through anything.

It’s why he was late to school pretty much every day. That and the fact that he didn’t give a shit about it– but mostly because he always slept through his alarm clock.

But the thing is that to sleep through anything he needs to be asleep to begin with. And right now he can’t fall asleep because Steve hasn’t stopped tossing and turning in the past hour.

When Eddie comes close to falling asleep for what feels like the hundredth time only for Steve to twist around again, he can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

Steve freezes as he’s fixing the blanket around him. “Um, did I wake you?” he asks in a tiny voice.

“I’d have to be asleep for you to wake me up, big boy.”

Running his hands down his face, Steve groans. “Shit, sorry, man.”

“��S fine, Stevie.” He gives Steve a sidelong glance. Thanks to the moonlight filtering through the window he can see that he’s frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just– Can’t sleep.”

“I got that much, dude,” Eddie says with a snort. He hesitates, biting his lip nervously. “Um, is it because of me?”

It might’ve been Steve who suggested they shared his bed tonight, but maybe he changed his mind or maybe he only did it because he was trying to be polite and he expected Eddie to turn down the offer–

Steve frantically shakes his head. “No! No–”

Eddie isn’t convinced. “Are you sure? Because I can go–”

“No,” Steve says, more firmly this time. “Eddie, I promise, I’m just restless, s’all.”

Eddie relaxes. “Okay, yeah, I get that. It happens to me a lot, especially after– you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs in sympathy. “So what do you do? When it happens?”

“Uh–” Eddie hesitates, a little worried that answering truthfully might make sharing a bed a bit awkward. Oh fuck it, he thinks. It was Steve who asked. “I usually just– you know, jerk off.”

Steve inhales sharply. He lets out a tiny, “Oh.”

And there’s the awkwardness.

Before Eddie can offer to take the couch again, Steve asks, “Does that, um– does that work for you?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Oh, like a charm. Makes me sleep like a baby.”

“I could use some of that,” Steve sighs longingly.

Eddie agrees– he’s noticed the black smudges under Steve’s eyes. “Well, I could, uh– go to the bathroom for a while if you want to–”

Steve sputters. “I’m not gonna ask you to go to the bathroom so I can jerk off!”

“Fine, then you can go to the bathroom. I’ll cover my ears, I promise,” Eddie says, trying to act casual but the truth is that if Steve actually took him up on the offer, Eddie’s brain would melt out of his ears just from knowing Steve is jerking off in the next room.

“Jesus, how loud do you think I am, man?” Steve asks with an incredulous laugh.

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve given it much thought.” He has given it plenty of thought actually but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “Just trying to be helpful here, Stevie.”

“There’s something else you could do if you want to help,” Steve whispers after a short silence. He sounds strangely shy, nervous. He can’t possibly mean–

“Steve,” Eddie says, trying to keep his voice leveled. “Are you asking me to get you off?”

There’s a short moment where Steve doesn’t say anything and Eddie worries that he just made things even more awkward by assuming that’s what he meant, but before he can spiral he hears Steve’s soft reply. “Maybe.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters out loud though mostly to himself but Steve hears it anyway and lets out a panicked yelp.

“Christ, you know what? That was stupid.”

“Steve–”

But Steve ignores him, rolling on his side, away from Eddie, and as far as he can without falling off the bed. “Forget I said anything, you don’t have to–”

“I want to!” Eddie blurts out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Uh, if– if it will help you.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that,” Steve says, still facing away from Eddie.

“I’m offering,” he says. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens to him and it definitely won’t be happening twice but he wants it– God, does he want it– so he moves closer, putting his hand on Steve’s waist, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s entire body shudders. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Please, Eddie.”

Oh, shit.

Just the thought of doing this is enough to make Eddie’s blood rush downward, making his dick half hard so he’s careful to keep his hips angled away from Steve’s back as he scoots closer to him, moving his hand from Steve’s waist to his lower stomach, feeling his skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch.

“I got you, Stevie,” he whispers, fingers moving down, playing with Steve’s happy trail. He’s already panting and Eddie still hasn’t even touched him.

Jesus fucking Christ, he needs to touch him.

He slides his hand lower until his knuckles bump against Steve’s cock over his boxers. “You’re already half hard, sweetheart? Is this what was actually keeping you up?”

Steve lets out a low moan. He didn’t ask Eddie for a running commentary, just a helping hand, but Eddie can’t stop himself. He’s a loud guy through and through, so unless Steve tells him to shut up, he’ll keep running his mouth. Steve seems to be into it anyway.

He lazily strokes Steve’s cock over his boxers to get him to full hardness. Fuck, he’s big, Eddie thinks. He can’t wait to feel Steve’s hot skin–

“Can I touch you?” Eddie whispers into his ear.

“Yes, yeah,” Steve agrees quickly.

So Eddie slips his hand inside Steve’s boxers, sighing happily when he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

The touch makes Steve throw his head back with a groan, almost smashing it against Eddie’s nose. Thankfully he doesn’t, even though not even a bloody nose would make Eddie give up the chance to get Steve off.

However he does prop himself up with the arm he isn’t using to touch Steve so his head rests against Eddie’s shoulder so as to not risk an injury– and because it allows him to peer over Steve’s shoulder and watch how his hand looks wrapped around his cock.

And God the sight gets Eddie to full hardness, making his mouth water.

He starts stroking him slowly, gathering the precum from the tip and smearing it down and around Steve’s cock but it’s not enough.

When he lets go entirely, Steve whines, hips thrusting forward, chasing after Eddie’s touch.

Eddie shushes him gently. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart. Here, spit,” he says, holding his hand close to Steve’s mouth. He does as he’s told without hesitation. Eddie can’t stop himself from kissing Steve’s nape. “Good boy.”

“Oh, G-god,” Steve moans brokenly. It trails off into a high-pitched whine when Eddie wraps his hand around him again, the slide of his hand smoother now from Steve’s spit.

He pumps him loosely. “Better?”

“Y–yeah,” Steve manages, panting now.

The elastic of his boxers makes Eddie’s movements a little clumsy but Steve fixes it by jerkily shoving them down. While doing that, his ass presses back against Eddie’s front and there’s no way for him to hide that he’s fully hard in his own boxers.

But instead of shoving Eddie away or calling him out on it, Steve groans and shuffles back until Eddie’s chest presses against his back and Eddie’s cock is nestled against Steve’s now naked ass.

“Fucking– fuck,” Eddie chokes out, momentarily stopping his hand so he can get his breathing over control.

“Eddie–” Steve whines, his hips twitching and fucking his cock into Eddie’s fist. It pushes his ass back against Eddie’s crotch, which does little to help Eddie focus.

“‘M here, baby,” Eddie whispers, his teeth clamped over his lip. Steve’s hips are still moving–

But he starts stroking him again, reminding himself that this is about Steve.

“Oh God, yes,” he moans loudly.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be loud,” Eddie mutters in awe.

Steve lets out a choked laugh. “I thought– I thought you didn’t give it much– oh fuck, much thought.”

“I fucking lied,” Eddie admits with a scoff.

“I– I lied too,” Steve says, his breath coming faster when Eddie tightens his grip. “You were the reason, fuck– the reason why I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking, oh God– thinking about how I wanted to be doing this instead.”

Something hot burns in Eddie’s stomach. “Well, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

“Can– can I ask for something else?” Steve says shyly despite him currently grinding his ass against Eddie in an obscene way.

“Anything.”

“Fuck my thighs?” He asks, twisting his neck so he can look at Eddie, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils blown wide.

Eddie is pretty sure his brain momentarily short circuits.

When he doesn’t reply right away, Steve blindly reaches behind him, his hand connecting with Eddie’s hip. He clumsily tugs on his boxers, trying to get them off.

It snaps Eddie out of it. “Yes, yeah, fucking– yeah,” he mutters, momentarily letting go of Steve so he can shove his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

He gives himself a few strokes– to take the edge off and to spread the precum along his length until his cock is wet and shiny.

“Come here,” Steve says and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He shuffles closer, angling the head of his dick forward, lining it up so it slides between Steve’s thighs.

And when it does, they both moan loudly at the same time.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths then reaches for Steve’s cock. The inside of Steve’s thighs is so warm and soft and he knows he’s not gonna last long, but he’ll make sure to make Steve come.

He makes sure his grip is tighter this time, his movements faster. He times them with his own thrusts, his cock sliding wetly in and out Steve’s meaty thighs.

“You feel fucking perfect, Steve,” Eddie groans, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder blade. The praise makes Steve whimper, his cock pulsing in Eddie’s hand. “You gonna come, sweetheart?”

Breathing coming faster, Steve manages, “Yeah– yeah. So fuckin’ close.”

“Me too, baby,” he admits. It doesn’t surprise him, he’s currently experiencing the hottest moment of his entire existence.

The closer he gets, the more his movements turn clumsier, more desperate– desperate to come, to make Steve come.

It’s when Eddie gives Steve’s shoulder a playful little bite at the same time that he twists his hand on the upstroke that Steve’s back arches and he moans loud and shaky as his cock pulses hotly into his hand.

Steve’s noises as he comes and the way his thighs tighten around Eddie’s cock are enough to bring him over the edge after only a few more thrusts and he paints Steve’s legs with cum.

They lay like that for a few seconds, catching their breath. Eddie starts to drift off, feeling tired and floaty.

“So you think you can fall asleep now?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Steve lets out a soft little giggle. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie grins triumphantly. “Happy to be of service, Your Majesty,” he says with a twist of his cum-covered hand.

Steve’s nose wrinkles as his eyes land on it, but there’s a trace of fond amusement in the look he throws at Eddie over his shoulder. He grabs a handful of tissues from his nightstand and uses them to clean Eddie’s hand and himself before they both shove their boxers back on and get back under the covers.

Eddie rolls to his side. “Before you fall asleep and because I know it’ll keep me up if I don’t ask– was that like, just a hookup or do you like, like me?” He grimaces, burying his face into a pillow. “God, I sound like a twelve year old.”

Steve laughs, but not unkindly. “I like you, Eddie,” he says, and when Eddie lifts his head to look at him, Steve leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Smiling, Eddie nods. That’s fine by him.

Steve turns around, facing away again and Eddie wraps his arm around him, burrowing his face into the back of his neck.

They’re both asleep in a matter of seconds.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/7/2025

in which we embark upon a progamme of reading for our edification

listening

this was the first song of the year-- felt a little melancholy and a lot sleepy after watching the first movie of the year and this fit the vibe.

-

reading

as a user, i think the magic link system is very annoying, but i also get that they don't want to fuck around with holding and protecting user data. they have been very firm but polite about various bells and whistles people want added to their site that do not contribute to their main goal of reporting various news beats. i DO really appreciate how they put in the time to create a private RSS feed for subscribers with the full text of all the articles so you don't have to log in with the magic link every time, or rather i will really appreciate this once i have a job and can subscribe.

i need to set myself a project and i keep forgetting i moved all this vintage gay and lesbian erotica from massachusetts down to texas with me, so we're going to read one a week until i get bored or we (heaven forbid) run out of gay or lesbian erotica.

the second purpose, and look, i hate the word normalized, but texas politicians are constantly working themselves into a screaming froth about protecting children from gay sex and gay books. i think we can look at various gay sex books each week in a calm and reasonable manner and ask the normal questions i try to ask of every work discussed in the tuesdayposts. since moving, my instinct is to be more stealth and less visibly gay, which is not the way i would like to live. this is the absolute babiest of baby steps since the tuesdayposts (to date) have never put me in any physical danger.

the main questions i will be trying to answer each week are:

is there anything cool about the physical object?

what's the author's deal?

did i like it/did it deliver on its premise?

the sex?

i don't know. chime in if there's some fifth thing you want regularly answered?

this is a 1997 british-printed perfect-bound paperback by The Gay Men's Press (a short history by one of the founders here). i'm not sure if this copy had ever been read, because i managed to break the spine in a very ugly way while trying to gently break the book in. this is either from a goodwill just over the border in ct or from bookends in florence (which you should go visit if you're ever in western ma, one of the few brick and mortar lesbian bookstores in the country).

not for me but i appreciate what it is and what it's trying to do. i have very rarely read something so clearly written by an author for an audience of themselves.

Growing up at a coaching inn on the Great North Road in the early 1700s, young Davy Gadd is enthralled by tales of the greatest of highwaymen, Claude Duval. Seeking his fortune in London, he is entangled in the machinations of Under City Marshal Charles Hitchin and the infamous Jonathan Wild, in their battle to divide up the spoils of the criminal underworld. At last, equipped with horse, pistols and velvet mask, he sets out as a Gentleman of the Road. But not before he has been loved by a Jacobite lord, dressed up by Lucinda and Aunty Mary, and been married at Mother Clap's Molly House. And at the end of the road, will he Pass into Legend, or does his fate lead to Tyburn tree, where so many glamorous adventurers have been hanged?

i think i would have enjoyed this book more if i were a gay man, really into daniel defoe, stuart restoration/early georgian england or very specific bits of historic london nightlife history. there are three hundred and sixty eight of god's own pages and we certainly do meander. it is a little bit of a slog in the dissatisfied middle portion of our hero Davy's young adulthood, but you are rewarded for sticking with it by all the important threads getting neatly tied off. it wraps up nicely if bittersweetly. the ending deals with community and vulnerability in a way that makes sense for a book written by a gay man in 1997. i wish i could explain my thoughts on this better. i think it is a perfectly fine ending that suits the book but again, overall, the book is not for me.

there is period-typical homophobia and gay bashing, but very little of it actually affects Davy. he is generally in fear for his life bc of some crime he committed unrelated to being gay. i think this is a pretty sensible way to make sure your historically accurate novel remains fairly historically accurate without being a fucking downer to write and read. on a related dealbreaker for many people, there is a good deal of phonetic dialect in this book, although it is mostly relegated to dialogue and slangy or shortened forms of words in dialogue spoken by people more connected to the criminal underclass.

i wrote all that and then i had to employ some stringent search techniques to find out anything about the author, who was not a very public person, and his feelings about homophobia vs historical accuracy. about three quarters of the way through this 1997 article about gay fiction from The Independent (interview conducted by letter!) we discover he also considers this a fine line to walk, and perhaps the only paragraph on the internet about his background

"The greatest influences on my writing to begin with were the swashbuckling films which I saw as a child in the Fifties," he says. "Errol Flynn and Stewart Grainger were particular heroes. Also around that time, John Buchan, whose Richard Hannay says, 'I have always had a boy's weakness for a yarn.' Later I acquired an English degree, and was influenced by medieval and Elizabethan literature, Thomas Hardy, Dickens, various historical novelists, Mary Renault and Daphne du Maurier."

"but kay, what about the sex?" my dear readers are probably crying out right now. i don't think this is a great book to jerk off to, even if you are a gay man and not a bisexual woman with the briefest passing familiarity about various periods of english history. davy fucks, a lot, don't get me wrong-- the fucks are not generally instrumental in driving the plot forward or delivering cool facts about london so they're all quite short, usually less than a page.

i don't know if including an example of a sex scene is interesting or useful information to anyone else but it feels strange Not to include it in a reading project about gay and lesbian erotica? gentle reader, i would love to hear your thoughts

-

watching

at about 11:30 PM on new year's eve i like to start a new-to-me black and white classic film to take me into the new year. this year's was Filibus (1915, dir. Roncoroni, widely available in various niceties of restoration)

summary from wiki:

Filibus is a 1915 Italian silent adventure film directed by Mario Roncoroni and written by the future science fiction author Giovanni Bertinetti (it). It features Valeria Creti (fr) as the title character, a mysterious sky pirate who makes daring heists with her technologically advanced airship. When an esteemed detective sets out on her trail, she begins an elaborate game of cat and mouse with him, slipping between various male and female identities to romance the detective's sister and stage a midnight theft of a pair of valuable diamonds.

i found out about this film through the @hotvintagepoll scrungly poll, and i think Valeria Creti should have gone all the fuckin way. girl hobbyist detective/nobleman by day, gadget-loving gentleman thief by night. i support women's wrongs, and she causes so so many of them on purpose. there are some things that carbon date a film, like russian antagonists or gland problems, and this film is carbon dated by sleepwalking as a serious psychological event. she comes very close to taking a detective completely out of the policing game by drugging him and staging elaborate series of events to plant evidence that he did all her crimes while sleepwalking.

she LOVES being in boy mode and she's very good at it! it's never treated as a joke! she stages a rescue of the detective's sister in order to gain access to his house, but then the actual building of the relationship and courtship is completely on her own merits and charm!

this is a charming (if poorly paced for viewing all in one sitting) early gay serial film. if i saw this in the cinema in 1915 i would have been institutionalized for imitating filibus

-

playing

genshin is not feeling as jazzy or fun lately. i think i have two issues. one is that Fontaine, the last major nation's main questline was a truly delightfully crafted (and fair! we had all the pieces just not all the context) murder mystery with a lot of lore. this nation, Natlan, is functionally a sports anime. not that one genre is better or more complex than the other, it's just. different. and recalibrating my expectations has been a little wonky.

the second kind of weird calibration thing is the rate of additions to the world map. genshin runs on a six-week update cycle, where every six weeks you get something major and new to progress the game story. usually there are nine patches, starting at X.0 and going up to X.8. you iterate up a full number with major patches introducing a new land, so with the introduction of Natlan we started the 5.X patch cycle and left Fontaine's 4.X cycle behind.

this is important bc there's usually there's new and fun and exciting stuff and puzzles to solve and new challenges only when they add to the map. in the 5.X patch cycle, there have only been two map expansions: one in 5.0 introducing the land, and one addition about doubling the map in 5.2. 5.3 dropped last week, where the main storyline of the nation typically wraps itself up in the last map update and then we get to fuck around in bonus areas or seasonal events. for example, in the last three nations, so from updates 2.0-4.2, there are typically three big map updates in a row that unlock the entire base map of whatever country we're in, no new map content for a patch, a new bonus area related to whatever area we're in, another break, and then a seasonal map, and then three more updates with no new maps but new events or new battle modes. for natlan, we're essentially "behind" unlocking a chunk of the map.

let's go to the maps: the last nation Fontaine's first introduction in 4.0 (these are all from IGN, they are not to scale with each other):

the second update in 4.1:

the third and final main map update in 4.2:

introduction of natlan in 5.0 on the right (these two screenshots i took are to scale with each other), no underwater regions or major underground areas in this one:

no map update in 5.1. second major map update in 5.2 on the left here, still no major underwater or underground regions. we are currently in 5.3 with no map update, with maybe the third and final map update in 5.4?

again, the problem with No New Map is that typically in genshin you go to new places to unlock more of the story. we're "behind" a map update, if you will. they've kind of shoehorned new story into existing map, and shoehorned new bosses into the existing map, which is very strange and makes the nation feel so much smaller and more limited than other nations.

it feels a lot like part of the map update we got in 4.2, ochkanatlan, an abandoned island city somewhat removed from the rest of the map, was supposed to be the bonus area map, but they didn't have enough ready? the 4.2 update also felt very medium sized- at this point in Fontaine we'd unlocked the Fortress and Institute, which really blow the dragon city right off the island with regards to complexity of exploration and length of quests. it's not really anywhere near the complexity or length of the first desert map expansion in Sumeru, which was honestly a really crazy thing to drop all at once. i will not be putting more nation map screenshots up here bc of the image limit but the desert in sumeru is ENORMOUS and it has an equally enormous underground labyrinth!

not my favorite nation so far! a little bit of it is recency bias bc Fontaine was SO good and is overall my favorite, but it feels off lately. i don't know if the really punishing every six weeks updates are finally catching up to the parent company, or if they're really deep in preproduction for the next land (it Feels like they're going to split the next land into two different X.0 update cycles. there's a lot of chatter in game from NPCs about how different and weird the next port is compared to the rest of the country. i could easily see them building that out to two major updates like natlan and then saving the bulk of the country for the next X.0 update in another year).

-

making

bathrobe surgery under the armhole.

ive had this red/black/blue tattersall plaid in light cotton since high school, best guesstimate based on the tag style is early to mid sixties?

this thing is Solid. it is perhaps the most nicely constructed garment i own. every seam is a narrow, tidy french seam. the underside of the collar is lightly quilted to give it some body and make it stay down, and it has a facing over the top to make it look not quilted from the front. it has The best waist tie arrangement i've ever seen, with a tiny strap on the underside of the tie to permanently hold it to the belt loops but still give you a little bit of play.

it is so beloved that it's starting to completely wear through on the shoulders, and i have to think about how to patch it without losing any of the light breathable qualities i love it so much for.

[slut4christopherr]

—GHOSTFACE— 👻

MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pics by : @sturnlsstuff

warnings: unprotected p in v(don’t do this!!!), riding, cumming, aftercare, smuttt, pussy eating

(if i missed any please lmk!!)

summary: matt sneaks into your room at night, wearing a ghost face costume from the horror/gore movie ‘scream’

what happens will make you wet.

a/n: ive only just started writing, so anything i need to improve please lmk and also comment if you wanna be added onto my taglist! i’m tagging my moots atm 😞 i hope you guys enjoy! this is a 1 part story‼️

you talking = white

matt talking = blue

as i finish the food i just made, i place my plate into the dishwasher and close the door, the audio from the tiktok i’d left playing.

“so you got a boyfriend?”

“why? you wanna ask me out on a date”

“maybe? so, do you have a boyfriend?”

i pick the phone back up, seeing matt sturniolo, the guy who adores eating my pussy, getting edited with clips of ghost face.

i couldn’t lie, it did turn me on.

i clicked the repost button and set my phone down on the couch.

i walked into my bedroom. swearing id shut the door as it was open a little bit but i’d must of imagine shutting it

i turn on the LED’s that wrap around my walls, to a red colour

as i’m about to get in bed, i scream as i feel a pair of cold, large hands wrap around my waist

“shh ma, don’t need t’be screamin’ jus’ yet”

i recognised the voice almost immediately

“matt. i told you to stop sneaking into my fucking house!”

matt chuckles as i turn around, he holds a voice changer upto his mouth through the mask, speaking into it, his voice came out all static and raspy

“and i said i don’t care, ma, so whatcha gon’ do? hm”

the way his voice came out from that stupid little box made my legs feel weaker and weaker every word he said

“and also, why the fuck you wearin’ that? take it off.”

he points at my t-shirt, his hands grip my shoulders ever so slightly and move me back toward my mattress, i flip down onto my back as he grips the hem of the t-shirt and rips it over my head.

i go to grab his mask and pull it up and over his head and throw it across the room, the black cape over him and his jawline, making him look so good in the dim red lighting of my LED’s

his eyes darken as he focuses on my breasts, one cold hand going to cup one into it.

he rolls my hard nipple around between his thumb&pointer finger which makes me let out a quiet moan

“mmm, i fuckin’ love the sounds you make for me ma”

his pants grow tighter by the minute and he groans and slaps my tit, making me squeal.

he gets onto his knees on the wooden floor, gripping my thighs and pulling me towards the end of the bed.

i look down at him as he looks up at me with hunger written all over him

his fingers hook into my shorts and panties, as he looks up at me again, asking for permission

i nod quickly and he pulls them down at a very, very slow pace

“matt, please.. please..”

you aren’t looking at him but you can tell he has that shit eating grin on his face

“use your words ma, what do you want?”

i let out a shaky sigh

“please matt, finger me”

matt slaps my thigh as he lets my shorts & panties pool at my ankles

he rubs a finger up my slit, groaning at how wet i already am

“m-matt, stop teasin’ baby”

he takes a deep breath before diving into my slick folds, his tongue diving into my head as his perfect nose applies pressure onto my sensitive clit

i let out a moan

“mmm fuck-fuck don’t stop!”

matt doesn’t stop, all that can be heard is my moans, his groans and the slurping sound of my pussy being eaten by a man who looks like he hasn’t eaten in days

i felt a knot form in my stomach

“matt i’m gon- oh fuck- i’m-“

my words get cut off my the knot snapping as he laps my clit with his tongue, making my hips buck into his face, pushing him deeper into my heat

5 mins later…

i bounce up and down on matts large, hard cock, i used the precum as lubricant, knowing you didn’t need to use it as my pussy was literally dripping wet.

matts slender fingers dug into my skin, making sure to leave bruises

the only sounds heard is the hum of the cars driving outside, skin against skin slapping and both of our moans

“mmm- ma, m’so close”

my pussy clenches around him in response as he grips my waist and pulls me down harder onto to him

i moan as the knot in my stomach snaps for the 2nd time, my juices running down matts cock.

i feel his balls tense and his cock twitch then, hot strings of white cum colour my walls

we stay like this for a minute, catching our breath until he pulls me off of him and gently puts me on the bed and stands up, walking to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth to clean me up

“your still not allowed to sneak into my house matt”

he grins in response

“yeah? sure ma”

a/n: tysm for reading! and this was so so rushed 😭 any ideas leave them in the comments

with lots of love and big tits - mia!

taglist: @sturnshood @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosweets-deactivated2025 @sturniolospumpkin @chr1sslvtt @christmastreecake @chrisprettybaby @chrissturniolodailysluts @chrisweetheart @mattscoquette @mattsmedusa @mattsstarlet @mattybsgroupie @sturnsrecord @mattsobvimyfav

[artbyblastweave]

I respect you always trying to give Millar a fair shake as an author. I can't stand the guy or his formula, but there's something that has always bugged me:

Superman Adventures, the tie-in comic he wrote for Superman: The Animated Series, ruled. It was legitimately phenomenal, self-contained action/adventure stories. Just really solid Superman work.

How did he off-handedly make something I like so much more? Is he just secretly so good at kids adventure stories, that he just finds it boring and does crap like The Unfunnies instead? Is it related to his time working with Morrison (and allegedly, borrowing some ideas)?

That first thing- him being secretly good at kids adventure stories- I actually think is very close to what's going on. I don't know the specifics of Millar and Morrison's falling out, but it isn't remotely surprising to me that the two of them aligned enough to work together in the first place, because they're both sincerely enamored with the straightforward cornball antics and aesthetics of the silver age- at the end of the day they both think the superhero genre, and genre stuff more broadly, is really really cool.

The bulk of Millar's oeuvre- and in particular his recent oeuvre- consists of short, straightforward, sincere two-fisted romps, within the superhero space and outside of it- Starlight, Huck, Superior, Chrononauts, Beyond, Space Bandits, more still that I haven't read. All jazzed up with violence and cussing, all transparently being written for adaptation by Netflix, but we can briefly be kind. Jupiter's Circle worked for me as well as it did because it married an obvious sincere appreciation for the aesthetics and plots of the Silver Age with an awareness of the seediness and moral rot of 1960s culture that actual silver-age comics didn't or couldn't acknowledge- FBI ratfucking, cowardly superheroic inaction in the face of segregation, capes having affairs with groupies or being forced into comphet marriages for appearances sake. Despite being one of the high-water marks for edginess in his overall career, both Old Man Logan and Wanted are both deeply thematically hung up on the quiet, miserable desperation of a world where evil has won so decisively. In Wanted in particular the villain protagonists won't shut up about how much more meaningful life was before they killed all the joy in the world, and although I haven't read it I'll eat my hat if that same idea isn't in the subtext of The Unfunnies. On the other side of things, I've written previously about how Kick-Ass really didn't work for me because Millar spent the first half of the book convincingly rendering the "superhero" as a unsalvagably pathetic role, but at the last minute he pivoted to trying to write the straightforward goodies-and-baddies story that does genuinely seem to be his default, and the result was a dissonant mess.

So, yeah, if Mark Millar writes a solid Superman it's probably down to him genuinely liking unreconstructed Superman and having a fun time with it, and also not being allowed by editorial to plaster the page in swears and grotesque caricatures. Or it might predate him really leaning into that as part of his brand, I don't actually have a great grasp on what his output from before The Authority looks like. Probably a number of things going on with this.

[siobhanhazel]

Shivvy's favs of HP Secret Santa Rare Pairs

In December I participated in HP Secret Santa Rare Pairs 2024! 

I read a lot (but not all) of the fics, and I would like to highlight my favourites 💕

As of Jan 8th, I have read about 103 fics out of the approx 129 of the creative writing category works! The remaining fics I either skimmed and decided they weren’t my cuppa or I still have them on my to-read list.

Again, this is completely just subjective and to my own particular tastes (which lean very heavily towards queer content). All of the writing and other creations were amazing contributions to different corners of the fandom and I know we all did our best to create amazing gifts for our giftees! Reminder: I don’t wish to receive any comments that fall out of the range of the three basic fandom courtesies: YKINMKBYKIO - Your Kink Is Not My Kink, But Your Kink Is Ok  || SALS Ship And Let Ship  || DL;DR - Don’t Like; Don’t Read

Yah so - if you don’t like, don’t read, n' don’t reply anything negative at me. Thank you! 💕 * But if you notice some info or link errors please let me know (tired eyes). 💛  = my brief squee/comments

Gifts I Received

Thank you so much to my gift writers! I included so many ship requests and was so happy to see I got Severus twice kekeke. 🎁 Fragile Bonds by @picklesonjupiter / picklesonsaturday 💕 Sirius/Severus  || T || 309 words Sirius seeks healing from Snape, but their complicated history and growing feelings make the process more challenging. 💛 I love Severus’ hands… I love Severus being adept at using his hands… I love Severus being adept at using his hands on another man…! On Sirius! LOVE. 🎁 No Need to Hide Under These Friday Night Lights by @maraudersaffair / maraudersaffair 💕 James/Severus   || E || 5,096 words James Potter is the most popular boy in school. He's even the star quarterback on the football team. And for some strange reason, he won't stop staring at Severus Snape. 💛 I swooned when I realised I’d get non-magical High School AU Princechaser!! It is so sweet and so smutty, I love it!

Fics I Went Feral For (reverse alphabetical by pairing)

🎁 the gift that keeps on giving by @the-invisibility-bloke / the_invisibility_bloke 💕 Teddy/Draco/Harry || E || 12,993 words There’s only one thing Teddy wants for Christmas: to lose his virginity. 💛 I went feral for this fic and am now obsessed with Tedrarry - the wit, the pacing, the pining, the smut…! All the comments for this are rave reviews, please read it and other fics by the author! (they write a lot of Sirry and other pairs too)

🎁 Hold onto this lullaby (even when the music's gone) by @knotsnuffles / objectlesson 💕 Sirius/Harry || E || 8,345 words The truth is, Harry doesn’t just want Sirius buying him fine robes and dressing him in them—in his heart of hearts, he wants Sirius to take him out of these robes, too. 💛 Another unstoppably fantastic Sirry fic by objectlesson! Mind the tags and if it’s your jam, curl up for fluff/smut and Sirius taking care of Harry.

🎁 speeding through red lights (into paradise) by @the-invisibility-bloke / the_invisibility_bloke 💕 Sirius/Harry || E || 9,975 words Just before fifth year, true to form, Harry does something very brave and very foolish. 💛 This turns the dial for ‘Harry Pining for Sirius’ up to max Brilliant prose by the author, highly recommend if the tags make it seem like your thing.

🎁 Pink Aster - Days Gone By by @trueliarose / Trueliarose 💕 Severus/Charlie || E || 45,664 words Fire melts ice, or so they say. Severus just hadn't thought that that applied to the ice in one's soul as well. Or, When Charlie Weasley came to Hogwarts to accompany the dragons for the triwizard turnament, he met Severus Snape. But can a short affair turn into a lovestory? 💛 This long fic has my whole heart! Severus is written wonderfully, the sex is spot on, and the atmosphere and Charlie’s care is just chef’s kiss! It spans canon and my heart aches along with Severus and Charlie as they fall in love amidst the war.

🎁 Rematch by p0intless_p0et 💕 Pansy/Ginny || T || 2,239 words In a cold, dark Hogwarts, ruled by fear and suspicion, Pansy Parkinson and Ginny Weasley find an unlikely spark on a makeshift Quidditch Field, and, much to everyone's amusement, only one of them can play Quidditch. 💛 The characterisation is just perfect, the atmosphere of Book 7 Hogwarts is stunning, and I thoroughly enjoyed this and reread it already, perfect Ginsy rivalry.  

🎁 Teacups & Tankards by @schmem14 / Schmem_14 💕 Madam Puddifoot/Madam Rosmerta || M || 9,589 words Bea and Ros are best friends who learn love and trust as they suffer loss and heartbreak during the Second Wizarding War. 💛 AAAH ITS SO SWEET AND EMOTIONAL and they are perfect for each other, please, come meet these sweet ladies with their slow romance kicking off during the hardships of war. It’s infused with so much heart and sexiness, I cannot recommend this enough! 

🎁 Rotten Roots by p0intless_p0et 💕 Neville/Draco || G || 2,335 words Draco Malfoy has everything he needs to complete Snape's potions work, everything but the ingredients. Neville is the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, he'll give Draco what he needs, at a price. 💛 Draco laced with guilt, and Neville's gentle hand guiding him close, showing Draco he knows him, and can be there for him. It’s suuuch a brilliant set up for a Dreville, it makes your heart ache for Draco, and Neville is so solid and steady and supportive!

🎁 Carry A Piece Of Me by @skywatcherrose / sky_watcher_rose 💕 Narcissa/Minerva || M || 3,471 words In the aftermath of a lost war, Narcissa and Minerva are just doing their best to survive - and perhaps take a little pleasure along the way. 💛 These two women, loving each other and holding strong as part of the feeble underground resistance… I love the tenderness of their intimacy during the darkness of war. Amazing portrait of these women!

🎁 A Tale of Two Tonks Women by @midnightstargazer / MidnightStargazer 💕 Andromeda & Nymphadora || T || 3,632 words Throughout her life, Tonks defies her mother’s expectations. Andromeda couldn't be prouder of her. 💛 I felt like I never understood Andromeda until this character study piece which is all about Tonks and her mother’s relationship. Very worth the read, thought provoking!

Fics I Want to Highlight  (reverse alphabetical by pairing)

🎁 Brightest Witch and Brightest Star by @jinrosemoon / JinRoseMoon 💕 Sirius/Hermione || M || 511 words

🎁 The Tabby Teapot by @celestemagnoliathewriter / CelesteMagnolia 💕 Seamus/Dean & Minerva/Poppy || T || 8,768 words  

🎁 Good Together by @anaxandria-writes / Anaxandria 💕 Neville/Theo || T || 800 words  

🎁 The Heat of the Moment by @schmem14 / Schmem_14 💕 Marcus/Percy || E ||  8,638 words  

🎁 Live for Today by  @schmem14 / Schmem_14 💕 Marcus/Oliver || M || 2,273 

🎁 Ron Weasley: GILF Hunter by @alyceofthetogas / AlyceoftheTogas 💕 Madam Puddifoot/Ron || E || 2,456 words

🎁 Look What We Found by @daydreamingfoxglove / DayDreamingFoxglove 💕 Luna/Pansy || T || 3,048 words  

🎁 Just Warming Up by briarandbone 💕 Hermione/Pansy || M ||  2,102 words

🎁 Prodigal Daughters by @chemicalwildflowers / QueenOfStormySkies 💕 Hermione/Andromeda || T || 3,952 words

🎁 In the Bleak Midwinter by @apricitydays-lazynights / Apricitydays 💕 Cho/Ginny || G || 2,340 words

🎁 The Beginning of the End by @mymindisverycomplicated / mymindisverycomplicated 💕 Cho/Dudley || T ||  27,265 words  

🎁 Frostbitten by @mrsprobie / mrsprobie 💕 Astoria/Luna || G || 346 words

🎁 Family Is What You Make It by sky_watcher_rose 💕 Arabella/Minerva || T || 5,366 words

🎁 Gurbaith-Feuer by @mitsuki91 / MitsukiSirya 💕 Albus/Tom || E ||  15,395 words

Gifts I Made

🎁 Copper and Blond Catharsis by SiobhanHazel 💕 Draco/Ron || E || 16,642 words Post-war, mild angst, porn with plot, fluff and smut etc 💛 For suniwrites - I had a great time writing something a lil dark and sweet! 

🎁 [Art] Hug Him Back by SiobhanHazel 💕 Sirius/Severus || G || 💛 For Julesss - It was so fun to exercise my drawing skills with a cute Snack pic!  

A Few Fav Non-Fic Entries

There were sooo many amazing art and other crafts etc! I didn't have a serious chance to look through them all again, but the ones that came to my mind as amazing are:

🎁 [game] What's that ship? by @lumosatnight / lumosatnight 🎁 [Art] So… Thank You by @sillylittlebeans / sillybeans 💕Harry/Bill || G ||  🎁[Sculpture ] Lazy Sunday by @elisedonut / elisedonut 💕Percy/Oliver || G || 🎁[Comic] Kiss Me if You Can by sillybeans 💕Cedric/Harry || G ||  🎁[Craft] Meet Me Outside by @sugareey-makes-stuff / sugareey 💕Marcus/Oliver || G || 

There were so many other amazing things (esp art!) but alas I have run out of steam! That’s all, it was an amazing batch of fics, I was so happy to participate and read! Kudos to everyone!

[desperate-daydream]

can I request Seth Clearwater x male shifter reader

plot male reader is jared brother and Seth imprint but is a complete himbo slowly but surely the pack see seth becoming more and more himbo like male reader and jared

🍎 Twilight

❀ Seth Clearwater x male (shifter) reader ⚣︎

A/N: thanks for this request, I really love writing Seth even though this was a bit of a challenge for me. I hope you like how I presented them. Sorry if it's a bit short and that you had to wait so long for it, this is the first request that I wrote In what feels like a very long time.

tags/warnings: reader is a shifter and imprinted on Seth, reader is Jared's little brother, both Leah and Jared are annoying older siblings, Seth, reader and Jared are himbos

Wait, you got more?

“Here, made you some cookies”, you placed the plate in front of Seth, “For your extra calories.” Your boyfriend gave you a thumbs up after stuffing his mouth with one. You laughed and went to finish cleaning up the kitchen. You had not only baked extra protein cookies but also prepped another meal for Seth, your brother Jared and yourself. After you had come back from a trip through the country you had quickly found out that you were a shifter too. And on top of that you and Seth had imprinted on each other the first time you were introduced to the pack after shifting. 

Jared and Seth were currently working on your boyfriend’s workout plan. He had gotten more into sports because of you and your brother quickly. The three of you trained together very often and if Jared wasn’t with you for whatever reason, Seth and you called it workout dates. 

You had helped Emily and the others that were cooking for the ever hungry pack in the kitchen from the moment you had been introduced to this world. And slowly but surely you pulled the other two into it. 

But the thing you were most enthusiastic about was that you could watch Seth catch up with you every day. His muscles became more defined and he grew hunkier fitting quite well with his last growth spurt. Your phone background changed frequently thanks to that - almost every week you changed to the newest gym selfie of you both. Man, you had a whole separate folder in your gallery for gym pics of Seth and you while also having one for any other pic you collected of Seth. 

Seth knew about the folders but what he didn’t know was that you were also planning to make a booklet full of those pictures and written down memories. (You had been really proud of yourself when you got the idea.)

When you had the kitchen all cleaned up again you took off the apron that actually belonged to Sue and was a bit too tiny for your body. Then you sat down next to your boyfriend who was munching on another cookie and ate one too while leaning your head on his shoulder.

“You finished?”, you asked and Seth handed his phone with the plan on it over to you. “Yeah, it’s great. Watch out, soon I’ll overtake you”, he said with a self-confident smile. “Sure”, you grinned back at him mischievously and exchanged a quick kiss. 

“Hey”, you heard Jared, “if you’re gonna make out, you can at least hand over the cookies.” You threw one in his direction and turned back to Seth who was still looking at you with a dopey smile that you returned. “Did I hear cookies?”, Leah stepped inside and turned to the three of you sitting at the small table. 

“Yeah, but you gotta wait until they’re making out again if you want some - only way to get them without insulted looks”, your brother said. Well, Seth looked a little insulted at that and you probably too when you spoke up: “Okay, first, I made them for all of us and second, stop being so annoying.” You threw another one in Jared’s face and then pushed the plate in Leah’s direction who had sat down in the meantime. 

Another surprise for the whole pack after Seth and you imprinting was that your older siblings had started to form some sort of bond at that and became insufferable a lot of times. Like it wasn’t enough to have one sibling bugging you, both of you now had yet another ‘sibling’ joining in or taking over. 

Leah had gotten lighter over the time again; she seemed happier and more content again which Seth was very glad of. What he wasn’t fine with was that she had started making jokes about him becoming more like you and your brother. He didn’t have anything against that but her saying that he lost some brain cells for muscles got added to the imaginary list of sisterly annoyance just because it had been repeatedly said. (He even ‘admitted’ that he wasn’t the smartest, but to you and many many others his actual intelligence was reflected in his utter kindness.)

Yeah, the four of you were slowly forming a subgroup in the pack simply because of the imprint and sibling bonds. You were glad to have them and the whole pack; you were like a huge family. 

“The others called in a quick pack meeting in half an hour”, Leah informed them after eating up a cookie. “Alright, I’ll pack up the other cookies for them”, you said and stood up. Seth went after you, asking: “Wait, you got more?” “Of course”, you got a box to put them in, “this crazily strong metabolism because of shifting really is something.” 

You placed a kiss on his pouty lips and gave over the filled up box. “Don’t eat them all by yourself”, you commented and followed behind him and your siblings. 

-

The others basically devoured the sweets and after fishing off the actual meeting the most of you went to just chill on the beach. 

“Y/N”, Seth gently shook you awake. You had been dozing off with your head on his stomach. You grumbled and he continued with: “There’s a kitten.” You could hear the same excitement that took over you when you finally opened your eyes to look around. Your gaze followed Seth’s and then you saw the little ball of fluff sitting on the grass that bordered on the sand. 

“I wanna pet it”, you whispered. “Me too”, your boyfriend said just as mesmerized, “And maybe she needs help. We should check.” 

That said, you got up and then helped Seth to stand up as well. You slowly sneaked up to the kitten, not wanting to scare it. 

“Hey, kitty”, Seth said in a sweet tone.

You didn’t fully remember how it happened but when the kitten ushered away both of you were already leaning forward while reaching out. You instinctively tried to still get to it but that way you and your boyfriend slipped and fell face down in the still damp grass. 

You heard Leah laugh about you and others chuckle as well. Sam asked if everything was okay and Seth threw back a “yeah” after turning on his back. You propped yourself up on your forearms and looked at your boyfriend who was already laughing lightly. When you made eye contact you burst into full laughter. 

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Uuuuh…

…Hi :D

…I’m sorry? 🥲

——

——

One day, a man realized he felt haunted for some time..

For weeks, the man had been aware of a presence that lingered on the edges of his awareness, like a shadow just beyond his reach.

It was subtle at first, a faint prickling on the back of his neck when he walked through the town, the sensation of being watched when he was alone in his study.

He brushed it off, passing it off as paranoia, the result of long hours and late nights.

But the feeling simply grew.

Growing stronger with each passing day. It was as though a pair of eyes were always on him, observing his every move.

He would catch a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a small figure darting into the shadows, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. Just the empty street, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns.

He told himself it was nothing, just his imagination running wild. But the sensation was relentless.

It was preventing him from getting anything done.

He had an..appointment with the Trader yet he simply couldn’t make the visit with these unseen eyes following him.

In the following days, He began to see the figure more frequently—a young boy, always at a distance, always watching.

The boy never approached, never spoke. He was just there, a silent observer on the edge of the man's life.

The man, of course, tried to ignore it, tried to carry on with his routine as if nothing was wrong.

He continued his day work, and indulged in his hobbies, but the boy was always there, a constant, silent observer.

Sometimes, the man would feel the boy's eyes on him when he was at his most vulnerable, in the dead of night, when he was alone with his thoughts.

He would feel the gaze boring into him, cold and unyielding, as if the boy could see through everything he presented to the world.

As the days turned into weeks, the man's unease deepened. He started avoiding places where he had seen the boy, changing his routine to shake the feeling of being watched.

But it didn’t help. The boy seemed to anticipate his every move, always appearing wherever the man went.

It was almost as if he was toying with him. Yet he didn’t do anything besides observe.

The man’s nerves began to fray. He found himself glancing over his shoulder constantly, his heart racing at the slightest sound.

His sleep became restless, plagued by nightmares where the boy was always there, watching, waiting.

The feeling of being watched never left.

One night, after a particularly long day, the man stumbled out of a tavern, the alcohol dulling his senses.

He wandered out of town, seeking the quiet of the forest to clear his mind.

But even there, among the towering trees and the thick fog, he couldn’t escape the boy’s presence. He saw a flash of green in the distance, heard the faint rustle of leaves

The man shook his head.

But the fog seemed to thicken, wrapping around him like a shroud.

The moon offered no light, plunging the forest into a darkness that made even the shadows just a foot away from him feel solid and endless.

He stumbled forward, trying to push past the fog, trying to escape the oppressive silence.

His thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and fear. The alcohol in his system dulled his senses, making it difficult to think clearly, but the feeling of being watched had never been more intense. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees looming like dark sentinels, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes that clawed at the sky.

He tried to focus, tried to convince himself that it was just the drink, that there wasn’t anything really there, but the sensation of those unseen eyes was impossible to ignore. He could feel them, cold and piercing, tracking his every movement.

The man’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a fresh wave of terror through him.

As he stumbled deeper into the woods, the fog grew thicker, swirling around his feet and obscuring the ground beneath him.

The trees seemed to shift in the darkness, moving closer, as if conspiring to trap him. His footsteps echoed eerily in the silence, the sound of his own heartbeat loud in his ears.

He tried to steady himself, muttering under his breath. “It’s just… just the fog… just the drink… nothing more… nothing…”

But even as he spoke, he could feel those eyes. They were closer now, more intense.

He could almost hear the boy’s silent footsteps behind him, could almost feel the cold breath on the back of his neck. He spun around, but there was nothing—just the oppressive fog and the dark outlines of trees.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a flash of green, a pair of eyes staring at him from the shadows. The man froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

The eyes were fixed on him, unblinking and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t malice, but it wasn’t benign either. It was as if the boy was studying him, dissecting him with those cold, eerie eyes.

Panic seized him. He stumbled backward, tripping over a root and nearly falling. His breath came in short, frantic gasps as he struggled to tear his gaze away from those eyes, but they held him captive, paralyzing him with fear.

The man’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the alcohol and the terror clouded his thoughts.

With a burst of adrenaline, he turned and ran, pushing blindly through the fog, desperate to escape those eyes. His feet pounded against the earth, his breath ragged and harsh in his throat.

The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees becoming a blur as he sprinted through the undergrowth. But no matter how fast he ran, the feeling of being watched never left him.

He could still feel the boy’s eyes on him, could still hear the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare slow down. But the forest was unforgiving, and the fog made it impossible to see where he was going.

His foot caught on something—a root, a rock, he couldn’t tell—and he went down hard, the ground rushing up to meet him.

He hit the earth with a thud, the air knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, and for a moment, he lay there, stunned and disoriented. His mind screamed at him to get up, to keep running, but his body refused to move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion.

Why were they after him?

What did they want?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had to keep moving, had to—

A soft hum pierced the silence, echoing through the fog. The man froze, every muscle tensing as his eyes darted around, searching for the source.

Noise came again, closer this time, followed by a voice, light.

“He’s getting tired, isn’t he?” the voice commented.

“Of course he is,” another voice chimed in, this one colder, more detached. “They always do.”

The man’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to locate the speakers.

But the trees were too thick, the darkness too deep.

He couldn’t see them, but he could…could feel their eyes burn his skin.

Closing in, circling him like vultures.

He scrambled to get up, but pain in his calf erupted when he tried to pull his leg forward, the pain pinning him in place.

“Going somewhere?” the voice spoke out.

The man’s heart nearly stopped as he looked over his shoulder and saw them—four boys.

Other than their clothes from what he could spot in the dark, they were identical in every way, the same tousled hair, the same wide eyes, the same faces.

But their eyes… their eyes were wrong, wrong for any child to wear. The way their faces held such different expressions.

They stared at him, casually, sadly, uncaringly, angrily.

“Wha—what…?” the man stammered, his voice shaking as he looked down and saw thick branch sticking out of his leg, keeping him in place.

Children…

…Children had been chasing him this whole time.

This…

This was utterly ridiculous.

Yet one of the children, the green one, crouched down, resting his chin on his hands as he studied the man with curiosity. “You look surprised,” he said, tilting his head. “What, did you expect someone…older?”

The man’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

His mind was reeling, unable to process the horror before him. How could this be?

How could four children—siblings from the looks of it-be the ones who had been hunting him?

Was this some kind of joke?

“Trying to figure out what’s happening? It won’t matter in a moment.” the cold voice asked, its owner, the purple one, stepping closer.

His uncaring eyes held an eerie calmness that made the man’s skin crawl.

“But to give you some insight, We’ve been following you all night,” He added, looking down at the man with a wide closed smile. “…as well as the past month…lots of hard work…” He brought a hand up and tapped chin while looking up.

“But I guess it’ll be worth it.” Looking back down at the man. “I suppose this is all unexpected for you, isn't it? Being the one chased? Not the chaser?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward for a second before returning to its neutral position, “You always were fond of that part of your hunting hobby, weren’t you-the chase I mean.”

The man shook his head violently, confused, his breath coming in panicked gasps. “Please… I don’t… I didn’t do anything to you…”

The air around them became heavy. The man’s breath quickened as he felt the weight of the boy’s gaze, each step the boy took toward him making his heart pound harder.

“You think we don’t know about you?” Blue snarled, his voice low and seething with anger. “You think we haven’t heard what you’ve done? The lives you’ve taken?”

The man’s eyes darted between the four boys, each one staring at him with a level of focus and cold calculation that seemed impossible for children. The realization that they knew something about him—something dark and hidden—sent a shiver down his spine.

“I— I swear,” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. “I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Vio’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, his dagger gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Enough of this. We’re not here to listen to your excuses.”

The man tried to pull away, desperation clawing at his insides, but the pain in his leg kept him pinned to the ground. He could feel the cold earth beneath him, the dampness seeping into his clothes, mixing with the sweat of his fear.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me go.”

Green knelt beside him, his face inches away from the man’s. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice soft and sweet, like a child asking for a treat. “Anything at all?”

The man nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face as he grasped at the faint hope that they might spare him. “Yes! Anything! I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”

The boys exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Red sighed and looked down at the man with a mixture of pity and disdain.

“You misunderstand,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about what you can give us. It’s about what you’ve tried to ruin for us.”

The man’s eyes widened in confusion and terror. “Ruin? I… I don’t understand…”

Blue’s anger flared again, his small hands clenched into fists. “Of course scum like you wouldn’t understand,,” he hissed. “I wish we could take our time with you.”

“There will always be others Blue.” Vio said calmly.

Blue scoffed.

Without another word, Vio moved smoothly, his dagger flashing in the pale light as it cut through the air. The man’s choking filled the silent forest, a raw, desperate sound that faded into the night as quickly as it had begun.

——

——

Four had never thought of himself as someone who was good at pretending.

What was the point? He wasn’t one for hiding and faking his thoughts.

But the moment he woke up to the sounds of his Grandfather calling him…

Far away from the others..

From Her…well…

He quickly learned the value of simply….playing his part.

If asked, he would reminisce about exactly what had happened on his journey.

The festival, the sealed chest being opened by Vaati, Zelda being turned to stone…

Ezlo…

Yet…what he would not have mentioned was that it was as if he had been guided along by his memories like a doll.

Seeing from someone else’s eyes.

Every single step already having been done once before, his expression perfectly suiting each moment.

The perfect actor.

He would have hated it if he had felt much of anything during that time.

He could not split (why couldn’t he split? He was One but not Whole, Singular when he should have been perfectly fragmented…whycouldn’thesplit-)

Yet, it was as if his colors still whispered in his mind, each one speaking their own thoughts on the matters happening.

But he hated them…(they weren’t right. They didn’t fit. They should have surged forth, demanding for him to split, demanding that he faced what he pushed aw-nothing was right…nothing was utterly right…)

‘This is an illusion.’

‘This shouldn’t be real.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Where is She?’

(Shut up….shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup-)

Even Ezlo, perched atop his head in the form of a hat, never noticed anything wrong.

Or perhaps he had…perhaps he had seen it all yet merely ignored it.

Link didn’t care to know.

To Ezlo, Four was simply a dedicated boy, focused on his tasks, eager to right the wrongs that had brought Ezlo to where he was.

But Vaati…

Such a keen eye….

Even in his corrupted form, saw through the masks he presented to everyone.

The dark sorcerer couldn’t quite place what was different, but during a moment when Ezlo and him were purposely separated (such a change to what he once remembered…), he had admitted that something about Four unsettled him.

And also intrigued him.

Perhaps it was the way Four’s eyes seemed to glaze over when he wasn’t speaking, or how his actions were too precise, too controlled—as if they were rehearsed. Or simply like a puppet on a string.

To be moved along as intended.

Even when the journey came to an end and Four and Ezlo said their goodbyes, Four’s performance never faltered.

He smiled to those he cared for, nodded, and spoke the right words, playing his role to perfection.

It was the only thing that made sense. (Because it meant he didn’t need to focus on what he-…)

This was all…so confusion. (WhatcausedthisHewantedtogobackWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthis-)

And beneath the surface, the whispers of his colors grew louder, more insistent, questioning, doubting.

(But they weren’t there. Not yet. So he ignored those voices made from illusions. Voices who should have been there already but weren’t-)

He felt empty.

A doll who played his part.

Even when he wanted to silence the loud voices that tried to speak to him when he left the house.

Even when he was touched or tugged by others. (Their touch causing his skin to crawl, their voices making him desire to claw off his ears.)

Yet the world seemed to finally deem his performance in his role to be enough for a reward.

His precious sword…

It wasn’t until he regained his Four Sword that he felt anything at all. (Because it was always his. Not even the others could deny such a fact. It was his sword. HIS. It was what made him exactly as he should be. And it’s been so..so..long since he felt right…)

As he drew the blade, the world shifted, and the sob that escaped him as he felt the Magicks invade his being and pull him apart was one of relief.

He could feel it as it happened, as he split into his four selves…

Red, Blue, Green, and Vio.

The relief of feeling something, of being something that wasn’t singular, was enormous.

He would have even gladly accepted agony if it meant his being was put to rights.

Yet once he was no longer One but Four…

He couldn’t deny what he had rejected for so long…

Almost immediately, the fragments began to lash out at one another, voices raised in anger and accusation.

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Red shouted, his eyes wild with desperation as tears flowed immediately.

“She wouldn’t have wanted to stay away if you hadn’t been so careless!” Blue snapped back, his fists clenched.

“Stop it, you two! We need to focus on the most important issues here” Vio’s voice was cold, but his hands trembled as he gripped his sword.

Each one was desperate to place the blame elsewhere, to find some semblance of control in the chaos that had consumed them.

They wanted something else, someone else, to be the reason things went wrong…

They didn’t want it to be them.

Red sobbed, his eyes wild with desperation, tears streaming down his face. His small hands trembled, clutching his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.

Blue’s expression twisted with fury as he turned on Red, his fists clenched tight, the knuckles white. “Don’t blame me for your own mistakes” he spat, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You were supposed to make her happy, and you failed! You should have been better!”

Red recoiled at the words, but his sorrow quickly turned to defiance. “Me? You were the one who pushed her away when it mattered! You should’ve been better, should’ve done something to ease her heart! But you didn’t!”

“You don’t know that! None of us do!” Green’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and defensive, though there was a wavering uncertainty in his tone.

He stood between them, trying to play the mediator, but his hands shook as he spoke, betraying his own doubts. “We don’t know what really happened! We don’t know if—”

“If she’s even still alive?” Vio finished, his voice cold and cutting. The words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable. Vio’s grip tightened around his sword, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of his own fears. “We need to focus on the most important issues here,” he said, his tone forcibly calm, but the tremor in his hands belied the control he tried so desperately to maintain.

“No!” Red cried, shaking his head violently, his tears falling faster. “S-She’s alive! She has to be! We can’t give up on her!”

“Red, you’re being naive!” Blue snapped, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “You saw what happened, heard what…what (y/n) said to us… Do you really think she’ll just come back to us? That she’ll stay with us after what we did?”

Green hesitated, caught between the two sides, his heart torn. “But…what if we’re wrong? What if she’s waiting for us? What if we can still fix this?”

Vio’s eyes darkened as he turned away from them, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t just about what we want anymore. It’s about dealing with the consequences of what we’ve done…of what we failed to do.” His gaze flickered toward the others, cold and sharp. “We need to be realistic. We can’t keep chasing after dreams when reality is staring us in the face.”

Red’s face contorted with pain, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t care about reality… I just want her back… I want us to be truly whole again.”

“We’ll never be whole again!” Blue snapped, his voice breaking as he finally voiced the fear that had been festering inside him. “We’ve lost her! We don’t even know where the others are! We’re somehow reliving this again! We lost everything when she turned away from us, and it’s our fault she did it!”

Green’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, desperately trying to hold on to some shred of hope. “But we have to try! We can’t just give up! We can’t just…leave her behind…”

“Shut up!” Vio snapped, his cold facade finally crumbling. “All of you, just shut up! None of this changes what happened! None of this changes what we did—or didn’t do!”

Their voices overlapped, growing more heated, more desperate, each one throwing accusations, trying to deflect the guilt and pain that threatened to consume them.

“It was your fault!”

“No, it was yours!”

“You should have done something!”

“We all failed!!

The argument went in circles, the same accusations, the same denials, the same pain, over and over again, until their voices were hoarse and their spirits were spent. It was like they were stuck, trapped in an endless loop of blame and regret, unable to move forward, unable to let go.

—-

—-

Throughout their journey in , the colors wrestled with the traces of their arguments and guilt.

The weight of their memories and their failure to protect her loomed over them, a cruel hole in their hearts. Yet, despite the lingering tension, they had no choice but to work together.

Red was the first to break the silence that often settled between them, his voice hesitant but filled with a small glimmer of hope.

"Maybe...maybe we could make something for her? You know, if we...if we ever find her again." He didn't meet their eyes, instead fiddling with a small piece of wood he had picked up along the way.

Blue scoffed, but there was no real bite in his tone. "And what? Hand it to her with an apology?” He snorted, a scowl on his face, “Like that would fix everything."

Green bit his bottom lip, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "It might not fix anything, but it's…something. Maybe it's a way to show her that...that we still care, that we're trying to be better."

Vio, who had been silent up until that point, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an underlying tension. "It's a start. We have nothing to lose by trying."

Red brightened at their responses, the glimmer of hope in his eyes growing a little stronger. "We could each make something, something that comes from the heart. It doesn't have to be much, just...just a token of what we feel."

“We would need proper materials…”

“Does it have to be one gift? Maybe a matching set or something?”

“If it’s a gift to her…it should be perfect…”

They all hesitated, the thought of crafting something meaningful for her stirring a mix of emotions within them.

But one by one, they were in agreement. It was a small step, but it was still a step forward.

As they journeyed on, they found themselves slowly working together, the tension between them gradually easing but still holding on to them.

They would often catch Red murmuring to himself as he gathered materials, his mind clearly on the gifts he was planning.

Blue, though gruff and still quick to snap, was more careful with his words and actions, as if he was trying to make up for his earlier harshness.

Green, ever the mediator, worked tirelessly to keep them focused and united, though the strain was evident in his eyes.

Vio, ever the observer, kept a close eye on their progress as they journeyed through the treacherous lands, but his thoughts were often elsewhere.

The burden they all carried weighed heavily on their mind, especially when they were all still separated, and the pretense he maintained with Shadow was both a strategy and a strain.

One evening, Vio found himself with Shadow in the tower.

The dark counterpart emerged from behind him, his eyes gleaming with that new curiosity that stayed in his eyes since they first interacted, but tonight, there was something more to his demeanor.

“You are a lot more different then I expected,” Shadow remarked, his voice dripping with a mix of intrigue and something more unsettled. “All of you. You guys act one way, but inside… I can tell there’s something else going on. Something you're all hiding.”

Vio didn’t let his expression falter.

Of course Shadow would notice—he was as much a part of them as they were of each other. “We have our roles to play,” Vio replied, his tone measured and calm. “What you see is what we need to be.”

Shadow tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied Vio. “So, it’s all an act? Pretending to be something you’re not? Trying to fool someone?” He bared his teeth in a mocking smile, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Or maybe…trying to fool yourselves?”

Vio’s calm facade didn’t waver, but the weight of Shadow’s words pressed on him. “Perhaps we are trying to fool ourselves,” he admitted quietly. “There are… things we haven’t fully come to terms with. Things that still haunt us.”

Shadow leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “Come to terms with what, exactly? What are you hiding, Vio? Don’t be coy with me. Tell your pal Shadow the truth.”

Vio stared back at Shadow, his expression cool, but his mind carefully choosing his next words. “We lost someone important to us. Someone we failed to protect,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of the sorrow he kept buried. “We’re still trying to figure out how to make it right.”

Shadow’s gaze bored into Vio, as if trying to pry the truth from him with sheer will. Then, slowly, a knowing smile curled his lips, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “You can fool the princess, your Sword Brothers, even yourself, but not me.”

Shadow chuckled at the heavy stare Vio aimed at him.

“I see through the cracks, Vio. I can feel the darkness in you. What wonderful darkness you have. You’re all pretending, acting like everything’s fine, but I can feel it, there’s something festering inside you, something rotten. Something…unheroic.”

He grinned, “I kinda like it.”

Vio’s eyes flickered, but he remained composed. “So observant,” he remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Shadow’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “You can hide a lot of things, Vio. But you can’t hide what haunts you—not from me. The guilt, the fear… the anger. It’s all there, bubbling just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to suppress it.”

Vio knew Shadow was right. But he also knew that Shadow didn’t fully understand it, couldn’t grasp the depth of what they were hiding—not completely. Not when he was disconnected from them like this. Cut off from them by the Dark Mirror and Ganon’s powers.

“I suppose we really can’t hide anything important from you ,” Vio replied calmly, watching the dark counterpart preen. “But we don’t need to hide all that from you. Just from everyone else while we keep moving.”

Shadow scoffed, but his eyes remained fixed on Vio, studying him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “All this cause you made the wrong choices and refuse to accept it? Hmph, and I thought Vaati was arrogant.”

“Well that’s just cruel.”

Shadow waved him off, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vio. And one day, the mask you’re wearing will crack.”

He tapped his chin and leaned closer, “I bet She’d reject anything you present to her the moment she saw you.” His voice holding a hint of glee when Vio tensed.

Vio’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t respond. He knew Shadow didn’t realize what it was he said.

He knew Shadow was aware of something, he had been behaving a bit off since their very first interactions…but he couldn’t afford to let him see the whole truth. He wasn’t ready…Not yet.

Shadow lingered for a moment longer, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he turned and melted back into the shadows. But as he disappeared, his parting words hung in the air like a curse.

“I’ll always be watching you guys, Vio. And when the time comes, we’ll see just how well you can keep denying your mistakes.”

“I never denied anything.” he said firmly.

Shadow shrugged with a smirk.”Keep telling yourself that.”

Shadow’s presence faded, leaving him alone, Vio felt the weight of the encounter settle heavily on his shoulders.

Shadow knew more than he realized, but still, being so disconnected from them meant he didn’t understand the full extent of their pain, their guilt.

And Vio…Link… intended to keep it that way, keep it from everyone, at least for as long as he could.

At least until things made sense again.

—-

—-

The boys watched in silence as the man’s body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide with the final realization of his fate. The fog thickened around them, swallowing the scene in its cold embrace.

Red stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the lifeless form. “Hard to believe he was a killer,” he said softly. “Didn’t he give himself up last time?”

Blue nodded, his anger subsiding into a cold determination. “And we just sped up the timeline. Not like anyone will ever know he was here.”

Green smiled faintly, his earlier amusement replaced by a calm satisfaction. “Another job well done, I’d say.”

Vio cleaned his dagger on the man’s clothes before sheathing it. “Only way the job will be done is when we head back and get the Trader’s favor”

Red nodded, sheathing his sword with a satisfied look. “So the trader owes us now right, for protecting him?” he said, hopeful. “And that means we can get high-quality materials for cheap right? He has just what we’re looking for.”

Blue began inspecting the man’s pockets, searching for anything of use, grinning at his findings. “He won’t need these anymore,” he muttered, pulling out a pouch of Rupees and tossing it to Green, who caught it with a soft snort. “Lucrative business, killing visiting traders and selling their products as your own.”

“Not so lucrative anymore thanks to us. Nice work, everyone,” Green said, his voice cheerful once more, as if they had just finished a game. “(Y/n) will be so happy when she returns and sees what we made for her.”

“We won’t have anything to show if we don’t get the materials,” Vio said finally, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve done what we needed here, let’s go.”

The boys turned and disappeared into the fog, leaving no trace behind. The forest remained silent, as if it had never witnessed the horrors that had unfolded within it.

——

——

After Ganon's defeat, after Shadow returned to them. (He hoped to introduce him to (y/n) one day….)

The Colors felt it—the hollow void gnawing at their insides, deeper than the exhaustion that weighed down their limbs. They had won, but victory brought them no joy. It brought them no peace.

No other adventures to distract them.

All that was left was simply to exist until something changed.

In the days that followed, they tried to live, tried to go on as if things were bearable.

Four moved through his life in a daze, performing tasks out of habit rather than purpose.

The cheerful chaos that normally followed when he split now replaced by either a spiral argument or silence, their conversations reduced to the bare minimum needed to share thoughts.

The one thing that kept them grounded enough to continue on, the one thing that gave them a semblance of purpose: (y/n).

At first, it was a fleeting thought, a distant longing for something they couldn't quite grasp. But as the days turned into weeks, that longing grew, twisted. They found their thoughts eaten by the idea of crafting the perfect gifts for her. Latching onto the idea like a lifeline.

They threw themselves into their work, desperate to fill the void within them with something—anything—that would make them feel whole again.

Crafting became their escape. Every waking moment was spent planning, designing, and perfecting gifts for (y/n).

If they had cared to truly notice, they would have been aware of the worried looks aimed at them.

(Four would sometimes hear Zelda speak with worry to his grandpa…funny how he felt nothing at the thought of any of them. They were just like everyone else. White noise.)

Green focused on weaponry, his mind racing with ideas for swords, shields, and bows. He became obsessed with crafting the most exquisite weapons, imagining how (y/n) would wield them in battle.

(He envisioned her face lighting up with joy as she held a sword he had forged with his own hands, the blade gleaming with a power he had poured his very soul into.)

Blue turned his attention to armor, his hands never idle as he worked on intricate designs. He wanted her to be safe, protected from any harm that might befall her. Each piece he crafted would be nothing less than masterpieces, infused with enchantments that would keep her from harm.

(How beautiful she would be when she wore it? Would she finally understand how much they cared, how much they needed her to be safe?)

Vio focused on accessories—rings, amulets, and pendants that would enhance her abilities. He studied ancient texts and experimented with new techniques, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. His thoughts were always centered on her.

He wanted her to know that they were doing this for her, that they wanted her to be happy, to thrive…with them.

Red, the most emotionally driven of the group, poured his heart into crafting gifts that were not just functional, but beautiful. He wanted to create jewelry that sparkled like the stars, flowers that would never wilt, and small trinkets that he hoped would make her smile.

But as that desire grew, so did the desperation in their

They all needed her to see how much they cared, needed her to understand that she was the only thing keeping them tethered to this world.

—

——

———

“It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, hasn’t it, Link?”

Zelda stood on the balcony of the castle, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone floor.

She watched Four out of the corner of her eye as he silently admired the view, his expression serene. But the calmness in his face was off somehow, like a doll carefully painted with a cheerful smile, too perfect to be real.

…It worried her.

Four turned to her with that same perfect smile, his eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. “I’ve been busy with the forge,” he said with an even tone that matched the serene smile on his face. “I’m sorry I haven’t come over to say hi.”

“I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite the name for yourself. I’m very happy for you.” The princess said warmly, genuinely happy for him.

Four felt nothing. No joy, no excitement at the prospect of spending time with his old friend.

His mind was already drifting back to the forge, to the hammer and anvil, the clanging metal, the comforting heat of the flames.

The thought of continuing his work brought him more peace than anything else.

He didn’t have to focus on anything other than the hypnotic rhythm of hammer on metal.

And Zelda tried to smile back, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was different about him.

She remembered how Link used to be, energetic, full of curiosity, always eager to solve any challenge thrown his way. To entice her away from her royal duties and play with him.

But now, there was something artificial in his behavior, a detachment she couldn’t quite understand.

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reach him in a way that words couldn’t. “Link, you know you can talk to me, right? We’ve been through so much together. You’re my friend.”

The word "friend" echoed in Four’s mind, but it felt like a distant memory, something he acknowledged because it was true, but with no real attachment to it.

Not anymore.

He knew he should care, he should feel some sense of loyalty, affection, or at least nostalgia. But all he could muster was a dull sense of acknowledgment. Zelda was important, of course, she was the princess, a blood descendant of Hylia.

By all accounts, he should harbor resentment or reverence, after what Hylia had done.

But instead, he felt nothing for her. No hate, no love, just a strange indifference that he was careful to mask.

Hurting her feelings wouldn’t give him what he really wanted anyone.

“Of course, Zelda,” he replied, his voice bright and reassuring. “We’re friends, and I’m always here for you too.”

Zelda’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder before she pulled away, nodding as if reassured.

Yet her heart was heavy with unease. Something in his eyes, the way they didn’t quite meet hers, the way they lacked the spark she remembered, told her that something was deeply wrong.

But she couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t voice it, and that uncertainty gnawed at her.

“Why don’t we head inside? It’s getting chilly,” she suggested, hoping to draw him into a conversation.

Four nodded agreeably and followed her inside the castle, his mind already wandering back to the forge.

He played his part well, engaging in polite conversation, smiling and laughing at the appropriate moments.

But inwardly, all he wanted was to return to his work, to the rhythm of the hammer, to the heat that drowned out everything else.

As they walked through the castle halls, Zelda glanced at him from time to time, every time she thought she saw something, it was gone in an instant, replaced by that perfect, empty smile.

“Link,” she said quietly as they reached the doors to the grand hall, “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

He smiled back at her, a smile that reached his eyes just enough to fool anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. “I’m glad to be here too,” he said, but inside, he was already counting the minutes until he could leave, until he could be alone again, where he didn’t have to pretend.

As the afternoon wore on, Zelda led him through the castle, guiding him through various rooms and gardens, trying to rekindle old memories and activities they once enjoyed together.

Before Shadow and Ganon, before Vaati and the Minish.

They worked on a puzzle in the library, played a few rounds of chess in the grand hall, and wandered through the palace gardens where Zelda pointed out the blooming flowers, each one carrying a story from their past.

Throughout it all, Four maintained his facade, engaging politely but with a sense of detachment. He responded to Zelda’s attempts to reconnect with the same artificial cheerfulness that had become his default.

Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the something in her eyes, masked by her bright smile, but he chose to ignore it.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, Zelda walked Four to the main entrance. She lingered a moment, her gaze following him as he prepared to leave.

“Thank you for spending the day with me, Link,” she said, her voice gentle but tinged with an hidden layer of sadness. “I’ve missed these moments with my dear friend.”

Four nodded, forcing a smile. “It was a pleasure. Don’t let those grumpy councilmen keep you too busy.”

As he turned to leave, he noticed Zelda waving goodbye, her smile now holding a subtle melancholy that she tried to hide.

For a brief moment, Four felt a pang of heaviness.

Yet, he couldn't muster the emotional energy to bridge the gap between their feelings. He knew she had once been a dear friend, but now he was more concerned returning to his forge.

He walked away, the image of Zelda’s sad smile lingering in his mind.

Deep down, he knew if he bluntly told her he wanted nothing to do with her, she would accept it. She was understanding like that. Though she would accept albeit sadly.

Yet the thought was fleeting compared to his overwhelming desire to return to his solitary work.

The heat of the forge, the rhythm of the hammer, it was his refuge from a world that no longer made sense with nothing else left to ground him.

———

——

—

The more they crafted, the more their desperation determination deepened.

They began to imagine what it would be like if (y/n) fought alongside them, wielding the weapons they had created just for her.

The thought of her in battle, strong and powerful, became a fixation. They knew the other heroes wouldn't approve, (perhaps he should hone his own fighting skills for the inevitable clash. He’ll have to find time between crafting…)

They would likely be upset over Four crafting weapons for their darling, but the hero didn't care.

They wanted her to be happy, wanted her to see that they would do anything for her.

If she wanted to learn how to fight, they would teach her. They never should have denied her anything.

If she wanted to wield a sword, they would forge the finest blade. Never any of those shoddy blades that the Cook always used.

They were no longer just crafting gifts; they were crafting a vision of a future with her, a future where she needed them as much as they needed her.

In their dreams, they saw her smile as she accepted their offerings, saw her eyes light up with affection and gratitude.

And when they woke, the emptiness within them was more pronounced, the need for her even more intense.

They wanted to be whole again, back when things weren’t strange yet familiar.

New despite knowledge to the contrary.

To feel the warmth of life flowing through their veins. And in their minds, the only way to achieve that was through her.

She was their light, their hope that a warm future was possible for a Hero, the one person that could fill the void that has existed since all of this happened.

And so, they continued to craft, whatever didn’t reach their standards, was scrapped and remade.

Again and again, never settling for less.

Any that couldn’t be saved but still had a semblance of worth were given to his grandfather to sell at whatever price he saw fit.

More money meant more materials.

More materials meant more options to craft with.

And whatever he couldn’t obtain through hunting. He would take from sales.

Perhaps the whispers of the townspeople, should have made him feel something when he started bringing income.

‘He’s taking to his grandfather’s craft rather well!’

But they meant nothing.

‘A prodigy, that one.’

Their praise wasn’t the one he wanted.

‘Have you seen the quality of his blades?’

‘Blades? Look at his armor! Such craftsmanship! Friend of mine bought one and it handled a moblin club to the chest no problem!’

‘I heard the king was interested in his weaponry and armor and the boy declined!’

‘Quite young to be so dedicated to mastering his craft isn’t he?’

‘…Does he take custom commissions?’

He heard it, and cared for none of it.

Nothing flawed would ever be gifted to (y/n).

They can praise his failures. He only cared for the money needed for supplies and materials.

He would make the perfect gifts.

And if she didn’t like it…

Then he’ll remake them.

Again and again.

He’s gained the favor of many traders and merchants.

He had better materials than before.

He’ll surely make something splendid.

“Hmm…” Four looked at the finished blade, examining it from all angles.

To the eyes of an outsider, it was a fine blade indeed.

The quality of metal was clear. Polished well, the edges so fine one would assume a hair strand would split in two if dropped on it.

Several long minutes passing before his frown deepens.

‘Not good enough…’

And with not a single other glance, he tosses it into the large crate in the corner.

Later his grandfather will take the crate and pick what will be on display tomorrow.

It’ll be sold off by midday.

That’s what he overheard happened these days anyway.

At least he’ll have more space for his creations..

‘Again…’ was all he said to himself as he began to gather new materials to create another blade.

He had to keep crafting.

Again and again.

Had to forge the perfect gift.

Again and again.

It would make things better…

It would fix everything…

…

(Wouldn’t it?)

[heatmiiiiser]

Ggrrr I wish disenchantment was better. I binged it all because I'm sick somebody talk to me about this.

[blitheringbongus]

Can't believe Scar saw a rapidly approaching, dishevled mumbo and went "he's so cute." I need to run unorthodox experiments on them.

IKR SAME OMG

They’re literally perfect for each other <- delusional

But seriously they have so much lore together in my silly brain and the few interactions they do have (WHICH HAS BEEN INCREASING A LOT LATELY MAY I ADD) has been FUELING the fire rapidly and gods gods GODS do I have many thoughts about them

[jonny-b-meowborn]

You know, I've never been a fanfic person, and so far I've pretty much only read short one shots, I think I've read only one fic with many chapters and a bigger plot? But a few days ago I read a few Road 96 fics I bookmarked in the last few weeks, and turns out!! Two of them are unfinished. One lacks only the final chapter, and that one wasn't as interesting to me so I don't feel bad for not being able to finish it, but the other I got super invested in before I noticed it has only three chapters out of who knows how many. I understand now the hell of finding the perfect fic and having to wait for more. Ough

[neverendingford]

.

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

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Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.

MASTERLIST

Topper prided himself in keeping out of people’s business.

He hadn’t noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldn’t have; he didn’t do the whole “emotional radar” thing.

But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.

You were his cousin, after all. 

That didn’t stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. He’d loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldn’t help but admire it.

You were like fire and gasoline.

But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.

Now, you were just… distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way you’d passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.

But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie. 

Topper was all in—laughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dad’s beers and pretending you weren’t gonna get caught.

But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.

You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like he’d just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.

He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasn’t a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.

Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.

“Crap,” he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.

Topper didn’t think about it—because thinking wasn’t really his strong suit—he just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.

He hit call. He wasn’t trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:

“Women’s Health Center, how can I help you?”

His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.

You were back.

Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didn’t match his pounding heart.

He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way you’d acted when he’d asked if you were okay—he couldn’t stop trying to force the pieces into place.

Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasn’t exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.

When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.

He climbed out, doing his best to act normal—which, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.

“You gotta chill,” Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch somebody?”

Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What’d you find out?”

He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. “Nice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?”

“Yeah, I figured it out,” Topper shot back, crossing his arms. “But why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know what’s going on?”

Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. “Didn’t think you’d actually get it, to be honest.”

“Bro, I’m not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? I’m still confused as fuck over here.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. “She passed out on me, remember?”

“So?” Topper shot back, frowning. “I’ve seen you pass out for, like, way less.”

“It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And she’s been weird lately, avoiding everyone.” Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. “The hospital did blood work.”

Topper, who’d been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.

“Wow,” he mused, dragging the word out. “Okay. So, how’d you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse."

Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time. 

"The fuck are you talking about?”

Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. “I just expected you to, like…freak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.”

“Throw a punch about what?” Rafe snapped.

“About—” Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait. What are you supposed to do?”

Rafe’s hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didn’t wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated. 

“Don’t do that, man,” he added, pointing a finger “I’ll help her figure it out. What else can I do?”

Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.”

“Top, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they weren’t on the same page.

Topper blinked, “I’m just saying you’re handling it better than I thought. Especially since she’s not—uh, showing yet.”

“Not showing what?”

“…The bump?”

He immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, and—okay, maybe he should just stop talking. 

Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.

“What the fuck?” Rafe’s voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “What bump?!”

His laugh fizzled out under Rafe’s glare, it was starting to feel less like “concerned ex-boyfriend” and more like “interrogating cop.” He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. 

Cool. Stay cool.

“Wait,” Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. “What do you think is wrong with her?”

His brain was spinning in a way it wasn’t built for. He was a simple guy—he liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.

Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.

“I think she’s got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think she’s pregnant?”

Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.

“Well fucking shit,” Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure he’d just signed his death warrant. “I—I didn’t say she’s pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a women’s health center, and—fuck, man, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”

Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. “Start talking. Now.”

“I wasn’t snooping, okay? It just—happened. I wasn’t trying to get in her business, but—”

“But what?” Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasn’t the one he feared right now.

You were going to kill him.

He could already picture the look on your face when you found out—those cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t get him killed or disowned.

“You better explain what the fuck you mean by ‘happened,’” Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topper’s collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.

Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldn’t. 

“I called the number!” Topper yelped. “I didn’t even mean to, it was—dude, she’s gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.”

“Not if I kill you first,” Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when he’d looked ready to punch him. “You’re telling me you think she’s pregnant? And you didn’t remember to tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t!” Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. “It’s not like she’s gonna tell me this kind of stuff.”

“Did she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?”

Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. “I asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.

“No, no way. She’s probably… I don’t fucking know, changing her pill or something.”

Topper raised an eyebrow. “Changing her pill?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said quickly, “Or—what else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe she’s getting one of those.”

“Uh-huh,” Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. “Sure. Just a… routine check-up?”

“Exactly,” Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. “They don’t just deal with… y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. “I mean, yeah, they do other stuff… but don’t you think—”

“I don’t think anything, there’s nothing to think about. She’s fine. She’s—she’s fine.” He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“Okay,” Topper started, his tone cautious. “I get that you don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions!” Rafe barked, spinning around “You’re the one making it into something it’s not! She’s not—she wouldn’t—she hasn’t told me anything,” He muttered finally, “And if she’s hiding this… from me…”

He’d never seen Rafe like this—angry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasn’t good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasn’t just mad—he was scared. Topper couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse. 

“Holy shit,” Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Holy shit, what if—what if she is?”

“Dude, breathe,” Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. “You don’t even—”

“Even if—if—she was, how the hell would that even—” He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldn’t decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.

Topper didn’t need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “No. No way. It’s not—she’d tell me, right? She’d fucking tell me.”

Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.

You, holding a baby—Rafe’s baby—in your arms.

“This doesn’t make any sense. We were careful. She’s just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?”

“You’re asking me? I barely passed bio. I’m not exactly a walking textbook on—” He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafe’s face. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Don’t screw it up more than it already is.”

“And if I don’t handle it right?”

Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.

“Then I guess I’ll see you in hell, man. Because she’s gonna kill us both.”

Rafe’s hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasn’t adding up.

“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Rafe muttered, “Not at the hospital, not since. And you think…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. 

Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.

“I guess, but I swear, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. “You called a random number. How does that ‘just happen’?”

He huffed, throwing his hands up. “I was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this number—I didn’t think! I just… acted.” He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. “I didn’t mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who made me go digging in the first place!”

“You really think that’s what’s going on?” Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.

“You said she’s acting weird, and then there was that number, and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Do you even understand what this means? If she’s—if there’s a—” He broke off, “I’d have to—Jesus Christ, what would I even do? I’m not—God.”

His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“If she didn’t tell me—” His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.

“Maybe just... ask her?”

 “Ask her?” he repeated, his voice disbelieving.

“Yeah, you know,” Topper said, gesturing vaguely. “Talk to her? Maybe find out what’s going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?”

Rafe shook his head, “No. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She’s... she’s dealing with her own stuff. It’s not my place to push.”

 “Since when do you not push?”

“Since now,” Rafe snapped, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. “If she’s—if she’s going through this, if she’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me?” He let out a bitter chuckle, “What the fuck does that say? About me.”

Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.

Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldn’t physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.

“I was—fuck. She thinks what? That I wouldn’t show up for this. She didn’t tell me because she doesn’t think I deserve to know.”

“That’s not true,” Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafe’s empty laugh stopped him.

“Isn’t it?” Rafe’s voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. “What the hell have I ever done to make her think I’d be there? That I’d—” He broke off. “Shit. I wouldn’t blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.”

“You still care about her, right?” Topper pressed, knowing he didn’t have to ask to know the answer.

Rafe’s head snapped up, “She’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

He nodded slowly, “Then prove it.”

The envelope sat exactly where you’d left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.

No. No way.

It was fine. Fine.

The number wasn’t even labeled—just digits scrawled hastily, you hadn’t touched it in days. Still, you couldn’t stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper could’ve seen it, let alone put two and two together.

You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.

He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have seen it.

Then why had he acted so… off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energy—it was all so unlike him.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things could’ve set him off. 

Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe he’d remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.

Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldn’t have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yet…

You sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Pregnancy brain,” you muttered to yourself. “Making me paranoid over nothing.”

Of course that didn’t stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelope’s color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that he’d ask, of course—Topper wasn’t the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.

The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasn’t like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know I’m here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, though…

Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t losing it, that Topper’s weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarah’s number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow. 

“Topper’s been acting strange. And I think I’m just overthinking it, but it’s making me crazy.”

She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. “So the Topper panic spiral. That’s what we’re dealing with?”

“Basically,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. “But this time… He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.” You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. “But he couldn’t have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.”

“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. “First, let’s just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didn’t, he wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s your cousin; he knows you don’t tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?”

“Yeah… I guess.” You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  “But what if he does put it together, Sarah? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“He won’t,” she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. “And you don’t need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. You’re allowed to handle it however you need to. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,” you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. “Maybe I'm being paranoid.”

“Pregnancy brain,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but smile.

You hung up feeling marginally better.

Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldn’t fully explain something.

But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasn’t malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.

You busied yourself with small tasks—folding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasn’t until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Miss Thornton?” the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.

“This is she."

“This is Linda from the hospital. I’m calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarily—”

“Wait, what?” you interrupted, not liking where this was going, “What do you mean you lost information?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. “We managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.”

Your breath caught. “Called... my emergency contact?”

“Yes.”

“Sarah Cameron? She didn’t tell me someone called.”

“She’s not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?”

Fuck.

Your heart was in your throat. “What... what did he tell him?”

“He only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.”

“Nothing specific,” you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, he’d already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?

“We need you to come back in. It’s possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.”

You didn’t even hear the rest of her explanation.

Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.

Infection, that was what she’d said. That was all it was. Not… not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldn’t have just called—they’d have told Rafe.

“Stop,” you muttered aloud, shaking your head. “Stop spiraling.”

But your brain wouldn’t listen.

“Generic message,” Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadn’t even realized you’d left?

You didn’t want to text Sarah again.

You could imagine her smirking, “I told you, he’s not going to magically grow psychic overnight.” Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.

He didn’t need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarah’s voice in your head. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Except it didn’t feel like that. You hadn’t thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadn’t needed to. 

You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered, but your voice didn’t make it feel any less real. You weren’t even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?

“Okay,” you said out loud. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

The sound of your voice didn’t even convince you. Your brain wouldn’t stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didn’t want to think about. 

What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him and—stop. 

Stop. 

You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasn’t cute.

You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, you’d made it this far without imploding.

You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You should’ve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep it—just in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.

Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and then—bam—suddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?

You could feel it already—the panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone. 

What if—what if it’s that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didn’t even realize were dots?

No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.

You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You weren’t that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talking—Topper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.

Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because he’d be cruel—no, that wasn’t his style. He’d just be so… himself.

Overwhelming, determined to “fix” things for you, even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.

You weren’t spiraling over things that hadn’t even happened yet.

But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans: What if it’s already too late?

You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasn’t even that suspicious, it could’ve been anything.

You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.

Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasn’t showing yet—thank god—but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.

You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A drive—that’s what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door open—

—and froze.

Rafe’s hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didn’t even try to hide the way your breath hitched. 

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Standing there on the porch like he hadn’t just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.

His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didn’t push past you, didn’t move his weight forward—just stood there.

He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. “They called me last night.”

Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, that’s all it was.

“And? You could’ve ignored it.”

His hand flexed at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. “I thought something might be wrong.”

“It’s not.” Your voice was clipped, cold. “They called the wrong number. End of story.”

He didn’t rise to the bait.

“I thought—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were sick.”

“Like I said, it was a mix-up.”

His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.

“Funny, they didn’t sound mixed up when they said your name,” he drawled, his tone probing. “Wanna try again?”

“Mind your fucking business,” Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. “I don’t need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?” you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. “Don’t you have someone else to worry about?"

You felt cornered with every second he stood there.

“We need to talk.”

Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, he’d stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasn’t something you were good at, he’d already taken too much. He always took too much.

“I don’t owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.”

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

Rafe didn’t know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didn’t back away.

“You’re right,” he said, surprising you. “You don’t, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”

The way he said, it wasn’t even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like he’d already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it. 

That scared you more than anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”

He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, “You sure about that?”

“God, you’re always like this. Always overstepping, always assuming—”

“I know."

All the noise in your head—your spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denials—went silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadn’t raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.

No, he couldn’t—he didn’t, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didn’t move, didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t know.

Your tongue went dry. 

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, “You don’t know shit.”

“I think I do.” His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasn’t cold or angry; it wasn’t even accusing. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.

You prayed to come up with something—anything—to deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged. 

“You’re delusional,” you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.

He just shook his head, “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re scared, you’re not even trying to hide it.”

It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“Oh, fuck off.” You threw your hands up. “You don’t know shit about what I’m feeling. You’ve got no right to—I’m not lying.”

It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.

“Don’t pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

The thing you’d been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. “T-That’s insane. You’ve lost your mind.”

Rafe wasn’t gloating or triumphant—he just looked… resigned, he’d pieced it together before he showed up.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not about this.”

You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.

He’d already seen it.

“I mean it, Rafe.” Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You thought about what he’d do if he knew—really knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you? 

Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. “You’re wrong.”

You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.

“Am I?”

Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. “Why? Why do you even care? It’s not like you—”

“Because it’s mine.”

Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldn’t hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw something—hell, anything—back at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.

“I—” you stammered, shaking your head violently, “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re—”

“Hey, hey, just—just stop,” he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. “I’m not—Jesus, I’m not here to fight with you, okay? I’m not here to make this harder.”

Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too late—late to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, that’s all you had to get through.

Five days until you didn’t have to think about it anymore. 

This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldn’t bring a baby into this mess.

“You’re doing a hell of a job at that.”

“I just want to help. If you let me—”

“No,” you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. “I’m fixing it.”

“Fixing—?” Rafe’s brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.”

His brow furrowed. “It’s not fake—” His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.

“Of course. Of course, it’s mine,” you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.

You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.

It wasn’t like you had a choice.

Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like you’d ripped them out of someone else’s mouth, right or wrong didn’t even matter anymore. There wasn’t space in your life for this—for him, for a baby, for any of it.

A muffled knock sounded from the front door—tentative, like he was giving you a moment.

“Go away,” you yelled, your voice hoarse.

“Open the door.”

Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didn’t want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at you—like he knew—it was unbearable.

How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.

You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing you’d started crying until your sleeve came back damp.

“Please, just open the door. We can talk—just talk, okay?

“No,” you muttered to the empty room. “No, I’m not doing this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out. 

“Don’t shut me out like this,” he begged. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didn’t, that wasn’t the Rafe you were used to.

Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He would’ve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both. 

You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he would’ve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.

This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.

Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everything—the desperation, the crack in his voice.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling. 

“I know you’re scared,” he continued, “And I know you think I’ll screw this up—God knows I probably will. But please don’t keep me in the dark. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?

“Please,” Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again. 

Steel doors don’t warp as easily as wood.

You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.

Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.

Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldn’t get through even if he had the key.

His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.

You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didn’t. Nothing would—not until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.

God, you really needed a new door—and a new heart.

One that didn’t twist at the sound of his voice, that didn’t flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didn’t feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldn’t let this go.

You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything out—his voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.

“Please, just talk to me,” Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.

Perhaps she was the reason he’d changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collected—nothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if she’d taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this way—he’d learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.

You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.

“Talk to me.”

No. Not this time.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden fruit

how would four best friends, all helplessly in love with their other best friends big sister, react to getting her leaked sex tape sent them via a groupchat? there was only two options. one was to ignore it, and the other was to act on it.

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. oral (m+f). fivesome. anal. double penetration. pool sex. anal (f). spitting. choking. partial MxM. brothers best friend(s). jealousy. profanity. spit. cum eating/sharing. sunghoon has a breeding kink. unsafe sex. name calling/slight degradation. marking. reverse harem. a singular photo gets taken. begging. switch!jay. switch!jake. dom!heeseung. dom!sunghoon. switch!reader. whining. 18+.

wc : 7.9k

a/n : been gone for a while and about to disappear again… i’ve been too busy to do literally anything, i just got back from a month vacation and i’m leaving again for another week on friday. anyways not sure how i feel about this but i hope you can accept this as an apology for my absence 🙏 don’t be shy to leave feedback, i’d love to hear everyones thoughts <3

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

An alluring person you were, the sweet nectar of a forbidden fruit strong with your scent as you swayed passed them. 

A forbidden fruit, that’s all you were- all they allowed you to be. 

It was hard staying away from you, their shared desire to hold you, to bend you over any surface was nearly impossible to hold back. 

The rush of heat racing across their bodies, the unforgiving hairs on their tensed necks raising with interest at every innocent graze of your skin. Your short skirts quickly became a problem amongst your four friends, your thick thighs peeking out beneath the tight material- fuck it was a sight out of every man’s wet dreams. 

Your innocent eyes could do nothing to stop their reactions. Your long eyelashes fluttering lightly against your shined cheeks, pink with your favourite blush, pretty lips pulling up into the sweetest smile- you’re fucking ruining them, and they did nothing to stop it. 

It was wrong to think of you in this way, to picture you in any compromising position. So wrong to imagine the bruises on your knees, caused by your foolishly clumsy tumbles, to be a result of your mouth against them, well… wrapped around them. 

Hearing about your sexual conquers was one thing, but seeing it was a completely different story. At least for one of the options they could pretend it never happened, that it was nothing more than a misspeaking- a horrible mistake of a slip of a tongue. 

But after all, there was nothing they could do. Fate was more than cruel when they made you nothing more than their best friends older sister.

Taunting wasn’t it? Dangling the one thing they all wanted in front of their noses, allowing them a preview of the woman they all dreamt about late at night with their warm palms wrapped around their leaking cocks, crying with the simulation of what they imagined your mouth, god what your fucking pussy would feel like wrapped tight around them. 

Their thoughts would torture them with the idea of what you would sound like, and how you would look while they manipulated your body to best fit their size. 

Their imagination was so cruel, so. fucking. cruel. It was too easy to imagine your mouth in place of their hands, to pretend that the nasty audio in their ears was in reality, your whimpers. They would ignore their phone's notification, their volume sensitivity going off as the wanton moans in their ears rose in volume. Their questions kept them up even longer, their palms tightening to an almost painful hold as their mind uncontrollably spiralled.

Would you beg for them to wrap their fingers around your neck while they pounded deep into you? Would you push them onto their backs, dropping your entire weight back down onto them? Would you leave pretty scratches up their backs, purposefully using your nails to carve your initials deep into their shoulders?

As said before, it was fucking torture. 

So imagine their collective shock when they woke up to a mysterious group chat, one that only included two things. A message, and a short thirty-second video.

It wasn’t only the obvious gloating message that outraged them, but rather it was the very compromising, and also very nude, photo of you that was set as the thumbnail.

678-999-8212

*one video attached*

well, it looks like I won, doesn’t it?

heeseung 

what the fuck?

jay

holy shit, is that yn? 

heeseung 

don’t look, just delete it

sunghoon

too late, I’m going to kill him

jake

you don’t even know who he is😭

jay

she doesn’t look like she’s enjoying it…

even a blind man could tell that she was faking it

heeseung

fucking prick, I could make her feel so much better

sunghoon

she’s mine, back tf off?

heeseung

in what fucking universe?

jake

I don’t remember there being a rule against sharing

jay

all four of us?

jake

I mean… why not? 

And once again, that was something they all agreed on.  

As usual, you came waltzing downstairs right at eight in the evening. Nothing appeared different about the way you came in, your hair in its usual updo with one of your many pretty sundresses tight around your bust. 

To the older boys, it was crazy how unaffected you looked. A sour taste filled Sunghoon’s mouth, his eyes glaring holes into your exposed calves. 

He watched the way you walked, the slight bounce in your step only noticeable due to his heavy stare, his distaste growing the longer he watched the way you moved.

No Hickeys? Clearly, the man you chose last night wasn’t the right option because if he was then he would’ve been like Sunghoon. He would’ve thrown your legs over his shoulders as he pressed his tongue deep into your greedy hole, leaving hickeys all across your inner thighs with matching fingerprints. 

He wouldn’t stop even when you cried with sensitivity, your legs shaking around his body while your bottom lips quivered uncontrollably. 

No limp? Once again, Sunghoon would’ve never let you leave his room until he physically had to hold your body straight. You’d feel him for the next week, feel his aching thrusts every time he ever thought about touching another man. 

Sunghoon thought that it was obvious that a girl like you deserved to be ravished, to be loved on to the point where it had you questioning everything about yourself. 

But it seemed that only a few shared his same feelings, his eyes catching the way his slightly older friends’ hands clenched against their thighs. 

“Are you going anywhere today?” Jake felt his body stiffen at the way your dress swayed at your knees when you came to a stop, your arms crossing against your chest as you smiled at your younger brother.

Jake’s eyes followed the movement, his mouth opening and closing observing the way your chest pushed up at your innocent action. His thoughts raced at the way they’d feel pressed around his hard dick, the image itself causing his shorts to tighten. 

It was when he met your eyes that he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping to the side while he repositioned himself. He was fortunate enough to have been wrapped in a blanket, his growing size hidden away from your sight. 

But even then all he felt was your eyes staring straight through him. He allowed himself to look back up once, guilt flooding his system when you passed him a cute smile. He was a fucking perv, and no one but himself was there to witness it all. 

“No, I had a long day yesterday.” Rage. His eyes burned with an invisible fire that quickly melted away any guilt, the video playing in front of his eyes once again- as if the other fifty-seven times wasn’t enough. “I think I’m just going to spend my day by the pool, practice my breathing.” Jake caught onto the innuendo right away, a barely noticeable wink getting thrown his way before you turned your attention back to your brother. 

Your younger brother, Jungwon, hummed at your words. Everyone knew he wasn’t paying close attention to you, your words going in one ear and out the other while he leaned against his spread knees, hands wrapped around his white controller.

“Fuck- okay, um I think the hyungs wanted to go swimming today too-“ Jungwon’s cursing became blurred out as his words grew heavy in the air. Without meaning to, Jungwon graced his friends with the perfect scenario. 

“Not sure about the others, but I think I’d love to go swimming with you.” Heeseung stood up, his eyes never looking away from your own as he dramatically stretched his arms up, his shirt pulling up to display the bottom half of his torso- flexing his muscles in the process.

His lips pulled up at the side when he saw the way you shamelessly stared at his abs, your eyes burning lines into his skin as they trailed across every inch of exposed skin. His ego could only expand seeing the way you rubbed your knees together at the sight of his v-line.

And when a throat clearing on his other side moved your attention from his body, Heeseung wanted nothing more than to punch Jay’s faux shy smirk off his lips. 

Jay pushed forward, his chest stopping centimetres from yours. “I don’t have any trunks, do you mind showing me where the spares are?” He tilted his head to the side with a much less shy smile, his eyebrows slightly raising as he waited for your response. 

He made the effort to never look away from your eyes, his pupils expanding under the bright light. It was only then that you noticed the light freckles spreading across the expanse of his nose, your eyes connecting the new constellations as his question faded into the back of your mind. 

Jay saw one of the boys move forward before he felt them, a hand-clapping against his shoulder before he was spun towards them. Sunghoon’s face was bare of expression, his hold on Jay’s shoulder tightening with every word that came from his lips- “Well luckily for you I also need a pair and I happen to know exactly where Jungwon keeps them.” 

Sunghoon didn’t look your way before he turned his back to the two of you, his footsteps light as he began descending down the hallway. You watched through a haze as the other boys followed, their overlapping whispers barely audible over each other.

But at last, you managed to make out one before the four of them disappeared from your sight, “we all have trunks, we literally planned on using them last night?” And with that, a smirk grew on your lips. 

Naivety was one game that you had mastered from an early age, it was about time they caught on. And so you turned on your heel, walking towards the laundry room to collect one of your many pool towels. 

“I’m going out, Minjae needs help setting up for the party tomorrow.” Your brother rushed past you, his hand plucking your sunglasses from your head with a playful smile, “I think I'll be needing these a bit more.” And with the close of the door, you decided to ditch your towel. 

If the boys were playing the game you thought they were then you definitely wouldn’t be needing one. 

All four boys couldn’t move their eyes from your barely covered form, their mouths practically open and drooling watching the way you pulled your dress up. 

The sun kissed your skin in a perfectly golden hue, your body glistening with an addictive enhancement due to a thin layer of sweat. 

Their cheeks grew warm as they watched you pull the fabric over your hips, their greedy eyes drinking in all newly exposed skin. They were all aware that they were tiptoeing the line of being perverted, but god the way you moved was fucking hypnotizing. 

One second they had you, and the next they didn’t. You went diving into the deep end, a perfected technique that they would’ve commented on under any other circumstances. 

By the time you rose from the water, time moved in slow motion. Your hair slung over your shoulder, droplets of water cascading down your face- dripping everywhere from your lips to your eyelashes. 

A forbidden fruit, that’s still all you were. 

Half an hour later, that stance was impossible to believe. Heeseung had you right where he wanted you, your covered core pressed against his, discretely grinding against him as you pretended to play colours. 

“hm, is your colour red?” Your head tilted to the side, arms wrapped around his shoulder as you prepared to get dunked again. 

“No.” He lied. His colour was, in fact, red, but in his defence you just looked way too good in his arms, wrapped around him. He wasn’t sure how he managed to get into this situation, but after a singular look from you, he had folded.

He was almost positive that for the game colours the second player would be held bridal style, but you insisted otherwise. And Heeseung decided then and there that he’d never argue with a pretty girl.

“How about green?” Heeseung shook his head once, a cheesy smile on his lips. You groaned out loud, your hand smacking against the water as you threw your little tantrum.

Heeseung decided against dunking you this time, your cute upset smile warming his chest. “How about a different game, truth or dare?” 

You jumped up with excitement, the movement causing Heeseung to groan. You both paused, eyes wide once you realized what just happened. 

“Oh- I’m sorry-“ You tried apologizing to which Heeseung just shushed you, his face bright red. “Truth or dare?” He decided to change the subject, giving you an appreciative smile once you reciprocated it. 

“No, can I go first?” Heeseung jokingly rolled his eyes at you, his arms propping up on the poolside behind him. 

“Truth.” Heeseung assumed this would be the easy way out, as it usually was. It wasn’t that he had any secrets to hide, so why wouldn’t he choose truth?

“Have you ever had sex in a pool?” This, perhaps, is the only time Heeseung wishes that he chose dare. 

“No.” He didn’t provide an explanation, not even after you desperately begged for one. It was the truth, he never has. He didn’t see the appeal to hook up with someone in the pool, because what’s the point? 

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Heeseung wasn’t shocked, dare having been your go-to since you were a child. 

“I dare you kiss me.” Heeseung thought you’d reject him, leave him to go bother someone else. But you’ve been the person to deny a dare.

And so you leaned forward, connecting your lips. It was only a second long, but it managed to changed your entire dynamic. 

“Truth or dare?” And against Heeseung’s better judgment, he finally chose dare. 

“I dare you to fuck me.” 

Heeseung knew it was risky, but a dare was a dare, right? 

“Are you seriously  fucking in the pool?” Heeseung froze, there’s no way they just got caught- “Are you jealous?” there was no denying it now. 

If you didn’t care that the others knew, why would he? And so he pulled at the two strings holding your bottoms together, completely removing them. 

The other boys’ faces fell when they saw Heeseung raise your bottoms, betrayal swimming across their faces watching the way his hands controlled your body.

“What the fuck-” Jake choked out after a minute of watching his best friend trust into you, the way your legs wrapped around his waist as you filled your hips to match his pace.

Your moan awoke something deep within them, a desire that made each of them forget about the entire “forbidden fruit” bullshit.

“Don’t be rude, share.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at Sunghoon’s demand but complied. There was plenty of time for Heeseung to make you cum, this one time won’t make a difference.

He hauled you onto the side of the pool, your cunt exposed for all of them to see. Sunghoon didn’t waste a minute before he threw your legs over his shoulder, pressing his face into you. 

Your hands wrapped around his loose hair, the wet strands pulling together in a makeshift ponytail. He started by licking across the labia, his tongue flat against the entirety of you. 

He used two fingers to spread you, his nose pushing against your clit as he lapped at your leaking hole, his quiet groan causing vibrations to speak across your entire body. 

His touch awakened many of the nerves in your body, his tongue bringing you to a place no other man managed to and that was only within the first minute. You didn’t even want to imagine the way you’d feel by the time you finished on his face, would it be as good as you hoped? Or even better?

Jake was growing impatient, his face nearly pressed against your leg as he watched the way Sunghoon ate you- his entire body throbbing with need.

Heeseung noticed and nudged Jake forward, his head nodding towards the place Sunghoon’s head was buried, “we’re sharing, remember?”

Jake didn’t need to be told twice, easily sliding between your leg and Sunghoon’s arm. You looked at Jake with confusion, having never been put in a situation where two men wanted to have you at the same time. 

But Jake didn’t care, all he needed was to taste you- to feel your pulse against his tongue. 

Once he knew that you were watching he lowered his head towards the place where Sunghoon’s mouth was attached to you, both men making eye contact for half a second before the other man shifted to the side- making room for the other.

Your jaw dropped open when he attached his mouth to your clit, his tongue using the mixture of your wetness and Sunghoon’s spit to move in spirals. 

It seemed that the lewd noises from Jake caught the attention of the other two boys, their jaws matching yours. “Holy shit-“ Heeseung leaned forward to view better, his hand coming down to push Jake’s hair from his face. 

The three of you watched as the two boys performed, their tongues pressing together as they switched positions, Jake pulling one of your knees over his shoulder in an attempt to pull you closer. 

Heeseung used his hold on Jake’s hair to tilt his head closer to Sunghoon’s, their lips practically touching with every move. “Our baby deserves a better view.” He tsked from his position on your side, eyebrows furrowed while he watched the boys walk an invisible line.

Sunghoon’s heavy eyes glared up towards Heeseung, his sticky cheeks glistening so pretty under the pool's lights. There were some things that Sunghoon could ignore, but a blatant challenge? He’d be dead before he proved anyone wrong.

And so, while maintaining eye contact, he turned his head towards Jake. He pushed his lips against the side of the boys, pushing his tongue to lick at the exact stop Jake was lapping at. 

Jake, of course, reciprocated right away- both boys practically making out against your cunt, strings of saliva connected the three of you together. And such performers they were, the other boys growing jealous at your undivided attention being pulled at the boys between your legs.

A rough tap on your cheek was enough to pull your attention back to a kneeling, now hands-free, Heeseung. One of his now free hands gripped at the area where your chin and neck meet, his thumb pressing directly on your pulse point. 

“Are they making you feel good?” He cooed, his lips jutting out while his other hand toyed with the string of his bathing suit bottoms. 

You nodded at his words, your face melting into his palms with a dumb look in your eyes. Heeseung barely managed to keep down his smile, his chest warming at the sight of you nuzzling against him. 

If it wasn’t for the throbbing in his lower body, then maybe he could’ve adored the sight for a minute longer. But his impatience grew thin the longer he heard the noise from between your legs, jealousy stirring deep in his stomach.

“Open your mouth.” His hand moved further up your chin, your cheeks now pressed between two of his fingers, tightening as he applied pressure, forcing your lips open. You tried your best to keep your lips sealed, a playful action that evoked the exact reaction you expected.

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed on demand, his nose slightly scrunching together as he looked at you with a look you recognized all too well. 

Your stomach tightened in anticipation, the rumours surrounding Heeseung’s kinks coming to your head.

It wasn’t a secret that Heeseung got around, but his partners seemed to remain a mystery. You had first heard the rumours in your eleventh-grade history class, a few girls crowded around the seat behind you, their voices mudding together as they formed their own fantasies. 

It wasn’t hard to hear the name of the man of the hour, your brother's best friend’s name being on your mind more times than it was supposed to.

It was a childhood crush, a dream that got crushed with the words spilling from the other girl's lips. They’d whisper about how Heeseung only bed college women, about how he only liked women with experience. 

In their words, he wanted someone who could “handle it.” At first, you didn’t understand what they meant, handle what? It was a week later when you finally understood, it was then when you decided that you were over him.

If you couldn't get under him, why not get over him? And that’s what you did, well until now. 

It was safe to say that the current you could handle him, your experience growing tenfold in the year after you graduated. 

But there was this one rumoured kink that you couldn’t seem to shake, one that has stuck around since the day you heard it. 

He rose to his feet, pushing his trunks down in a smooth swipe, completely exposing himself to your watering mouth. His hand returned to its position, pressing your mouth open once again. Only this time, you allowed him.  

His length felt heavy on your tongue, foreign to what you were used to. He was much bigger than most of your past partners, which you took as a good sign. 

There had to be some proof of the rumour, and you couldn’t help but take this as the first hint. The second hint came directly after, his tip hitting the back of your throat, bottoming out straight away.

Throatfucking? Sure it was pretty basic, but god some men just couldn’t do it. They either went too fast and shallow, barely reaching halfway across your tongue. Or they went too slow and deep, your boredom growing as they used your throat in a pathetic attempt.

Heeseung, the man who was almost known for his head game rumours, seemed to be the perfect fit. 

Your senses were filled with nothing but him. His taste filled your mouth, the precum coating your mouth in a layer of lubricant. Both your throat and scalp burned with each thrust, but it hurt so good.

His soft grunts made you all more pliant, loosening your jaw to allow more suction, it was a sight straight out of both of your wet dreams. Jay seemed to agree. 

Jay’s hand wrapped around the base of your throat, tightening- holding you in place. His breath tickled your ear as he blew warm air against it, his words slipping out with each harsh thrust getting pushed in.

“You can feel him so deep, can’t you?” He pressed small kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the center of your throat. He pulled away the tiniest bit, his eyes glowing with amazement as he watched the way your skin bulged every few seconds.

He raised a finger to press against the most prominent spot, his lips following suit as he began nipping against the same spot. “C’mon, I need you too…” He trailed off, alternating between kissing and sucking on your exposed neck. 

“Please, don’t make me beg.” Jay didn’t need to say another word, your hand already blindly searching for his shorts. His hand quickly guided yours, pushing it between his stomach and the elastic. 

His head fell against your shoulder, his chest pressed halfway across your back. He didn’t care for the man on his other side, his eyes closing as he melted into the feeling of your hands rubbing against his bare cock.

Heeseung’s head fell back at your increase of moans, the vibrations rushing his release. He quickly pulled out of your mouth, his hand gripping around his base as he stopped himself from cumming too early. 

Heeseung looked back between your legs, Sunghoon now sucking hickeys against your thighs as Jake pushed his finger into you, his tongue licking at the skin stretching around them. 

A cool shiver spread through his back, his bare body exposed to the cold wind blowing from the pool. It was then that he noticed that goosebumps were present along most of your arms, granted some were for other reasons, but it was the only sign he needed. 

Instead of using words, he just opted to lean toward the two boys still half-submerged in the water. He grabbed Jake’s hair, pulling his face away from your cunt. 

Jake’s eyes snapped up, confusion clouding his irises. Heeseung ignored the look before letting Jake go, reaching over to do the same thing to Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon caught onto Heeseung’s look way quicker, his body detaching from yours as he hauled himself from the pool, his trunks tight against his waist.

Jake, albeit still a bit confused, followed suit right away. Heeseung looked at Jake’s now bare thighs, his eyebrows furrowing in a silent question. 

Jake only shrugged, shooting him a sly smile before he used his thumb to point over his shoulder, his black trunks floating along the surface on the other side of the pool. 

All that was left was you and Jay, your full attention on him. His chest pushing harshly against you, his heartbeat thumping against your shoulder blades. 

“We’re going inside.” Jay shook his head against you, his hips pushing forward to rut into your warm hands. You clicked your tongue in faux annoyance, your fingers tightening almost painfully against him- forcing his movements to stop. 

You removed your hands from his shorts, your hands wrapping around the band to pull him in front of you. Your chests were pressed together, hearts beating as one. 

His watery eyes opened, meeting yours as his cheeks flushed. Your facade melted, your eyes filling with adoration at his needy expression. “We’re not done, you’ll feel so much better upstairs.” You whispered, ignoring all the other boy's eyes staring directly at your exposed body. 

Jay still didn’t move, his eyes pulling you in once again. Without a thought, you pushed your lips against his- tilting your head for a closer angle.

It wasn’t even ten seconds in when Heeseung came stomping over, his hand grabbing Jay’s hair to pull his lips away from yours. A thick string of spit stretched across both of your lips, your head following his. 

All boy's jaws dropped at your following action, their arousal and jealousy battling against each other. You leaned forward once more, your tongue pressing against the side of Jay's mouth, swiping from one side to the other.

You causally licked the spit from his lips before swiping at your own bottom lip. After a moment of silence, you looked up.

Jay’s mouth opened and closed, gaping at the sudden action. “You- what?” He blubbered out, shock heavy in his tone. And just as Jake did before, you just shrugged. “Can’t let it go to waste, can we?” You stood up using Sunghoon’s outstretched palm, entwining your fingers while sliding your slides back on. 

 “We’re going inside, now,” Heeseung growled towards Jay, his eyes watching your hips sway as you walked away. 

The second you stepped into your bedroom Sunghoon pushed you against the wall, his hand wrapped tight around your throat with his lips pushed into yours- pinning you down. 

He traced your entire body, nerves coming alive with every inch of unmarked space. He finally moved his eyes down to the marks on your thighs, his marks. 

Pride. Pride wasn’t a new feeling to Sunghoon, but he swears he’d never felt it this strong. He was almost happy that you were left unmarked, he didn’t even want to think about how he’d react to seeing proof of another man’s hands touching you. 

Sure he was furious that you weren’t getting the pleasure you deserved, but Sunghoon could give you all that and more. He’d give you anything, even if it meant sharing you with three of his friends. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” He knew he had to ask now because if he didn’t then he wouldn’t ever build himself to. 

Your expression became guarded, lips pulling closed at his hurt tone. “What do you mean?” Sunghoon froze, did you not know?

You watched his reaction, the way he retracted into himself. “With your needs, I could’ve helped you.” He tried regaining his confidence, squaring his shoulders as he stood taller. 

“You wouldn’t have to fake it with me.” Ah, now you understood. A smirk rose on your lips, your hands moving on their own as you gripped his waist. 

“Are you sure? My other boys make me feel pretty good.” You stressed the last few words while your hands travelled further up his exposed torso- pressing against his lower stomach for a few seconds before tracing the lines between his flexed abs. 

Sunghoon hissed under his breath at your words, his eyes darkening at the mention of your former partners.

“The video didn’t seem very promising, we wouldn’t have you looking all neat, looking untouched.” It was then that Sunghoon realized the other boys were surrounding his other sides, their arms almost pressed against his. 

You looked up towards Heeseung, tilting your head with a fake pondering look, “A video?” He nodded once, his jaw clenched at your fake oblivious attitude. 

“And how did I look?” You wrapped your hand around Sunghoon’s, pulling it away from your neck. He took your action as a signal to move back, pulling his body from yours. 

All the boys stayed silent at your question- which was something that didn’t sit right with you. You looked at each of them before you landed on Jake, noting the way his cock twitched at your sudden attention. 

You turned your body to face him while ignoring all the other boys, your palm coming up to rest against his heaving chest. You made a show of trailing your finger across your collar bones, all the way up to your halter bikini top. 

“How did I look, Jakey?” A stuttered cough left his left the second your finger pulled at the knot, your top now dangling around your rib cage, your breast completely exposed. 

“I didn’t do this, did I?” You grabbed his wrists, moving his hands to press your breasts together. You contorted your expression into one of pleasure, your lips dramatically dropping open as you pretended to choke on your words. 

Jake shook his head to the side, his body moving on autopilot as he calculated his next moves. 

“No, but I think you knew that.” You pursed your lips while shaking your head at him, nose scrunching up in annoyance. “I didn't see the video, you did.”

Heeseung reacted before anyone else, his hand grabbing your arm to pull you towards your bed. 

“You’ve been bratty all night, clearly no one’s taught you to behave.” Heeseung pushed you flat against the bed, his knee pressing flesh against your sensitive pussy. You let out a loud mewl, your back arching into his knee. “I think you need to teach me again.” Your head flew back when you began moving your hips against him, his knee providing the perfect pressure against your swollen clit. 

Heeseung kept his arms crossed across his chest, expression unmoving as you used his knee to get off. Your whimpers had a clear effect on both Jay and Jake, both of their hands wrapped around their exposed cocks as they jerked themselves off at the sight. 

“P- please help, it doesn’t feel as good without someone’s help.” You blubbered out a beg, your lips pouting together while your lash line filled with unshed tears. Your desperation was clear, your hips stuttering against the bed due to the lack of pressure. 

“Aw look at you, a slutty baby who can’t do anything by herself.” Sunghoon cooed from over Heeseung’s shoulder, his hand holding onto his shoulder as he watched the way you rubbed against Heeseung. 

“But pathetic cry babies don’t deserve help, do they?” You rapidly shook your head, plethoras of different disagreements leaving your lips. 

“But you’re not a crybaby.” Jake joined into the taunting, kid body weighing you down as he kneeled to your side. His hands reached over to rub across your cheeks, his fingers catching your salty tears. You nodded your head, eyes wide with excitement thinking that at least one of them was on your side.

“So stop fucking crying.” His harsh words were still sung with the same cooing tone, his gentle hands contradicting their speech.

“M’not crying, not a baby.” Jake nodded along to your words, repeating them back to you once before he turned his head to look at the two boys standing above you. 

They both nodded toward Jay, who was still standing on the right side of the bed- opposite to Jake. Jake gave the other boy a single once-over before he nodded back at the other two. 

Jake placed a small kiss against the apple of your cheek, your salty tears sticking to his skin before stood up from his position. You, who read the situation wrong, began repeating your small sorrys. Apologies slipped from your mouth in a slobbly mantra, your desperate attempt to be touched once again. 

“You’re sorry?” It was a rhetorical question, but still- you answered. Heeseung took charge once again, his hand pressing against your knee- rubbing small circles into it. 

“Prove it to us.”

Jay, who removed his trunks at the door, crawled onto the bed beside you. He sat in the center of the bed, right above your head. “Make Jay feel good, show him how much you need him.”

You didn’t waste another second before you turned to your stomach, your ass pressed in the air as you arched towards the other boys. Your hand wrapped around Jay, your tongue peaking out to give small kitten licks to his tip.

Jay bit his lip in anticipation, his feet twitching by his side with each small touch. His head was filled with nothing but you, the thoughts of you. 

His nightly thoughts were finally getting played out, the warmth of your lips millimetres away from him drove him insane. But he wasn’t the only one growing desperate, the sharp smack against your ass laying it down. 

“Giving him those pathetic licks won’t do anything, even Sunghoon could do better.” Heeseung tutted, his hand smacking you once before before he pressed his hand flat against your upper back, pushing you closer to Jay. 

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon glared at Heeseung for adding his name, to which he just gave him an exasperated look. “You were the one practicing making out with Jake earlier, not me.”

Both named boys looked away, their cheeks burning bright red. “Whatever.” Sunghoon scoffed, his shyness still coming in full force as he recalled the way he reacted earlier. 

Their almost argument was cut off at the gasp Jay let out, all three of them watching the way his face pulled up in pleasure. Heeseung never thought that he’d enjoy watching another man’s reaction to getting their dick sucked, but he also never thought that he’d be sharing someone with three of his friends. 

The sounds coming from your lips were downright disgusting, slurps mixed with the occasional gag- but in a way, you’ve never sounded better. 

Heeseung could see the way Jake was stopping himself from stroking too much- not wanting to cum anywhere but in you. Sunghoon noticed it too, his small snickers catching the Australian boys attention. 

Jake’s jaw dropped when both boys stepped back, allowing Jake to take their place. He waited a few seconds, making sure that he was actually catching what they were throwing- and not making it up in his head. 

He got his answer in the way the boys moved on either side of the bed, Heeseung’s hand resting against Jake’s shoulder when he stepped beside him.

Heeseung gave him a small nudge, pushing him towards your legs. He gave a reassuring nod with a tight-lipped smile, and that was all Jake needed. 

“Comdom?” Heeseung leaned forward to meet your eyes, his question heavy in the air. Sunghoon stood with bated breath as he waited for your response, his chest blowing out when you finally shook your head. 

Jake knew you were spread enough, having been the one to stretch you out by the pool. And you certainly were wet enough, but even that couldn’t stop him from spitting on his palm- rubbing it across his entire dick. 

He used one hand to push your back into a further arch, the other wrapped around his base as he lined himself up. The second his tip entered you the tiniest bit- he pauses.

If this was going to be the only time he got to have you, why not savour it all? He removed his hand from his base but instead used it to spread your lips out. 

He got the full effect, watching the way your tight hole sucked him in- gripping him. His groan rolled from his mouth once he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you once before he pulled back out, slamming in harder the second time. 

Both of his hands were now gripping your hips, his short nails making half-moons across your skin as he repeatedly pulled you back into him.

You saw stars, the stimulation feeling like nothing before. You weren’t sure if you could ever go back to only fucking one person, not when two people against you felt this good. 

A cock in your mouth and one in your pussy, heaven. They were fucking ruining you, and you loved every moment of it. 

You felt the way Jay was getting closer, his noises growing quieter the longer he held his breath. You reached your hand under your chin, massaging his balls with one hand while the other pressed down on his pubic bone for stabilization.

You completely removed him from your lips, your tongue sticking out as you trailed it across his most prominent vein, curling it once around the tip before you swooped back down. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking his balls into your mouth while your hand twisted along the length. 

You used one finger to press against the slit on his tip, pressing it down. His hips shot forward, a loud moan breaking from his lips at the sensitivity. 

As quickly as you did that, you switched again. Your mouth sunk back down onto him, holding your breath as you held him deep in your throat. 

A second after he let out a pitchy breath, he released in your mouth. Usually, the taste of cum didn’t bother you. Sure it was usually bitter, but after a while, you just learned to ignore it. 

And maybe Jay tasted similar, but he tasted so different. He was addicting, every part of him. And it was for that reason that you didn’t pull away, why you kept going even when his body began twitching beneath you. It’s why you went faster when his broken pleads turned into inaudible sounds. It was why you swallowed around him a second time, swallowing everything he had to give you. Except this time, you held it in your mouth. 

You pulled off of him, his cum still in your mouth. You looked up towards Sunghoon, his eyes widening when you gestured to him to get closer. 

And maybe if you weren’t so fucking hot, then maybe he wouldn’t have complied. Maybe he wouldn’t have opened his mouth, allowing you to spit it into his own. Maybe he wouldn’t have listened to your next orders, but god, you were so fucking hot. 

“Share it with Jake.” They all knew what you meant, and at Jake’s small nod, they all knew exactly. what. you. meant. 

“Holy shit-” Jay’s jaw was on the ground as he watched his friends share his cum between their lips, their tongues twisting together as it grew more intense. 

If Jake’s thrusts meant anything, then you knew that he more than liked it. He loved it. 

“Sunghoon, join Jake.” Your head snapped over to Heeseung, your eyes wide as his words processed in your head. Heeseung ignored your look, staring dead into Sunghoon’s eyes. “I don’t think she’s proved herself yet, one cock in her clearly isn’t enough.” 

The next minute was a blur. One second you were arched into Jake, and the other you were sat on his lap with your legs wrapped around Sunghoon’s waist- his cock inches from you.

Heeseung’s fingers were pressed deep into your ass, the spilled lube coating Jake’s lower stomach. After the third finger, Heeseung decided you were stretched enough.  

Heeseung helped holding you up, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he lowered you onto Jake. Your arms tightened hard around him, your eyes falling closed at the new feeling of having someone pushing into you from the back. 

You’ve tried many things, but anal definitely wasn’t one. 

“Relax, let him in,” Heeseung whispered into your ear, one of his hands rubbing circles into your back. You did what he said, letting go of all the tension in your lower body.

It didn’t take very long for Jake to bottom out, time blurring together due to your hyperfocus on the unknown feeling. “You did s’good.” Heeseung pecked your ear once before he released you, raising his hands to pull your arms off of him. 

You put your arms on Jake’s side, holding him for stability. He took two steps back, still close enough to pull you away if you showed any discomfort. 

The first few thrusts felt weird, the pleasure yet to come. But once it came, it came fast. Your back arched as your head fell back, your lips gaping open. 

Your legs tightened around Sunghoon’s waist, pulling him closer. “P-please-“ you begged through broken moans, your desperation clawing at your chest.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but you knew whatever Sunghoon gave you would help. He hesitated for a minute after he lined himself up, his worries of hurting you replacing his neediness for a split second.

It was a split second too long, long enough for you to reach one hand forward and pull his hips into you. Both Jake and Sunghoon paused at the feeling, Jake’s stomach tightening under your hold. 

Sunghoon’s expression was nothing if not pure bliss, his eyes half open, his mouth wide as he let out heavy exhales. His rosy cheeks seemed extra pigmented, his wet bangs hanging over his forehead when his head fell forward. 

The sensations that you were all feeling were so intense- to the point where the three of you stopped breathing. 

The feeling of two cocks in you was something you could never explain, nothing compared. 

And for the boys? The mixture of the tightness and the groves of another dick against theirs? Insane, but so delicious. 

Sunghoon was the first to start moving, his hesitant thrusts causing butterflies to erupt on all three of your stomachs. 

Once Sunghoon found his tempo, Jake began moving to watch it. Your head was completely empty, your mind focused on nothing but the feeling of them entering and exiting you.

Sunghoon leaned forward towards you, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples while the other one played with the other. His moves were slightly sloppy, imprecise pinches and nibbles alternating between each tit. 

Heeseung noticed it right away, his hand coming out to shoo Sunghoon away with a harsh glare. “If you’re not going to do it right, don’t fucking do it at all.” His lips relaxed Sunghoon’s, the difference between the two more obvious than not.

Your chest arched into Heeseung’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as he trailed a line of kisses between each breast, small hickeys getting left at random. 

Jay, feeling left out, moved forward to join. He was already as hard as he was when you started, the sight before him nearly sending him into a spiral.

His hand reached down to circle around your clit, his finger never once directly touching it- he knew no one wanted it to end yet. 

It was clear to the four boys when you got close, your body responding to all their touches differently. Jay now allowed his fingers to make contact, fast circles setting your nerves on fire. 

Sunghoon pushed his hand against your stomach, feeling his cock kiss his palm with every push. The bugs made his fantasies come out, images of you swollen with his kids chasing his hips to push in further. 

His primal instincts won against the rational side of his brain, the desire to fill you up feeling stronger than ever. Realistically, he knew you wouldn’t fall pregnant. The plan b pills and your birth control were proof enough, but it didn’t hurt to pretend- right? 

It was then that he remembered the entire reason why they were doing this. It was to prove a point, wasn’t it? And that’s when he got a great idea, one that made complete sense in his half-conscious brain. 

The other man gave proof, shouldn’t they return the favour? His phone was forgotten by the poolside, same with Jake’s.

He had almost lost hope until his eyes caught your phone on your bedside, his eyes lighting up in relief. “Pass me that phone.” Heeseung did what he was asked without question, his lips, which were now attached to yours, stayed unmoving while he reached over. 

He blindly grabbed at the table, taking the first thing that felt like the phone. He’d passed it to Sunghoon- who accepted it right away. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar phone, whose was this? 

He knew you didn’t get a new one, having texted you yesterday asking to hang out- to which you cancelled. 

So whose phone was this? Upon noticing that it was shut down, he quickly powered it on. The screen was blank for a second before messages came flooding in. 

No fucking way. 

You let out a muffled moan at Sunghoon’s sudden harsh trust, Heeseung’s lips still moving against yours. 

And at the same time the cameras clicked, you came. 

All four boys panted around you, two of them releasing inside of you right after you finished. Sunghoon ignored the phone for now, tossing it to the side as he pushed himself as deep as he could- holding his hips in place. Even when Heeseung helped Jake pull out, Sunghoon stayed- plugging your cunt full, refusing to let a drop out.

“Switch? I promise I won’t let it leak out.” Heeseung knew exactly what to say to get Sunghoon to move, and it worked every time. 

Sunghoon and Jake stepped back, allowing the other two to take their place. Sunghoon zoned out while Heeseung and Jay situated themselves, choosing the position they wanted you in. 

Now that he was in a slightly better mindset, the images from the phone came rolling back in.

Why the hell were you getting the messages they’d sent in that group chat? There was no one else in the group except for them and the random number. 

It was nearly impossible for you to get those messages unless you were that random number. Sunghoon raised his eyes back towards you, then to the phone, then back to you.

He noticed that you’d seen him make the connection, and you smiled. Naivety was one game that you had mastered from an early age, it was about time they caught on.

[thetriumphantpanda]

you'll just have to taste me | joel miller

Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.7K

Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.

You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.

It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.

But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.

“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.

He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.

“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”

You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.

“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.

“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”

He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.

“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”

“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”

“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”

“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.

“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”

He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.

You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.

“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.

“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.

“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”

“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”

He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.

“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.

He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.

You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.

Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.

“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.

“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.

“Terrible, really.” He responds.

“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.