#wasn’t expecting the fuck buddy part

[spider-stark]

i applaud anna wood for her boldness in dane’s b-day post

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[rafesangelita]

♡ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms

a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol

wc: 4.8k

“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.

if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.

you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.

rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.

“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.

swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.

apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?

night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.

he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.

he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.

slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.

with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.

your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.

“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.

“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.

rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.

you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.

pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.

do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.

once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.

you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”

rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.

you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.

just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”

rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.

“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.

you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”

you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.

“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.

“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.

“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.

rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”

you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.

“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.

“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.

“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.

“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.

“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”

cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.

“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.

"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”

you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.

you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”

your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.

“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.

[pomegranatesarchive]

Could you do a part 2 to please date my sister in law with max and r getting married?

wedding of the century | max verstappen

part 2 of ‘please date my sister in law’

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: one year after charles sets up his sister in law with max, the world is preparing for the wedding of the century.

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris, and 819,717 others!

maxverstappen1: to be wed 💙

view comments below!

user1: OH SHIT ITS HAPPENING

user2: STAY CALM EVERYONE!! STAY CALM!! STAY FUCKING CALM

user3: charles leclerc found yelling out in happiness, 3:21 AM, monaco.

user4: oh my god

user5: omg

user6: the pictures are so cute 🥹

user7: THAT SHOUDLVE BEEN ME

user8: marrying max? or marrying yn?

user7: BOTH

user9: max waited no time to put a ring on that

user10: AHH IM SO EXCITED

user11: i can live out my wedding fantasies through you guys 🥹

user12: i know charles is freaking out rn

charles_leclerc: oh yes. i’ll be over with the binder in five minutes.

user13: he’s actually at lot more calmer then i expected

yoursistersuser: nope! he yelled for a straight ten minutes after this was posted

user14: yeah that sound more like him…

user15: so happy for you two 🤞

landonorris: so when can i pick up my bridesmaid dress?

maxverstappen1: you mean your groomsmen suit?….

landonorris: i know what i meant

user16: i hope max takes her last name

danielricciardo: how funny would it have been if she said no

maxverstappen1: not funny at all

danielricciardo: tough crowd

user17: ahhhh congratulations!!

user18: NO PLS NO

user19; you have shattered my heart

yourusername: FUCK YOU BEAT ME TO IT

maxverstappen1: YOU TOLD ME I COULD MAKE THE ANNOUNCEMENT FIRST??

yourusername: I LIED I WAS GOING TO BEAT YOU TO IT

maxverstappen1: HAHAH SLOW POKE

user20: these are the two getting married btw

user21: i didn’t want you anyways 😒

liked by, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 916,016 others!

yourusername: officially a #fiancé! 😾

view comments below!

user22: so it’s real….

user23: why wouldn’t it be real?

user22: idk i was hoping max went crazy and just started making shit up

user24: you know what. hell yeah.

user25: mama a happy future ahead of YOU 💜

user26: CONGRATULATIONS!!

user27: no….

user28: this just broke my heart

user29: so happy for you two 🥹

user30: if anyone deserves this happiness, it’s you!! congratulations 🎊

oscarpiastri: oh he wasn’t kidding

oscarpiastri: you said yes?…

yourusername: i cannot deal with your negativity today oscar

oscarpiastri: IM JUST SAYING

oscarpiastri: you said yes?…

user31: let’s all say thank you charles!!

charles_leclerc: YES THANK YOU CHARLES! WE ALL THANK CHARLES!!

charles_leclerc: and too think they all called me crazy for setting them up!

charles_leclerc: HA

charles_leclerc: and to think…

user32: you’re talking to yourself babe

landonorris: i can’t wait to pick up my bridesmaid dress

yourusername; we talked about this lando

landonorris: i know 😔

user33: does this mean lando isn’t a bridesmaid? because i would KILL to see that man in a dress

user34: HELL YEAH!!

user35: true love, rock on 🤘

user36: 50 percent of marriages end in divorce

user37: genuinely, why would you say this

user36: i’m a hater to my core

user38: no you’re a bitch to your core

user39; oh damn

yoursistersuser: love you babe 💜 but pls tell charles he can calm it with the wedding planning

yourusername: and you think he’ll listen to me?

yoursistersuser: no, but it was worth it a try 💔

liked by, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 720,015 others!

charles_leclerc: it’s always hows the wedding plannING? and never hows the wedding plannER? 😕

view comments below!

user40: nobody gaf how you are, WHENS THE WEDDING?????

carlossainz: when’s the wedding?

user41: you signed up for this buddy, when’s the fricking wedding???

oscarpiastri: when’s the wedding?

user44: uh huh, uh huh, yep totally agree! when’s the wedding?

user45: who cares, when’s the wedding?

user46: i don’t care, when’s the wedding??

landonorris: when’s the wedding?

user47: don’t give a shit, when’s the wedding?

user48: chop chop wedding planner, when’s the wedding????

danielricciardo: when’s the wedding?

user49: OMG CHARLES NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU, WHENS THE WEDDING????

user50: shut up when nobody asks, when’s the wedding????

maxverstappen1: when’s the wedding?

user51: boy who asked? when’s the wedding?????

charles_leclerc: I WAS GOING TO ANNOUNCE THE WEDDING DATE. BUT YOU SICK FUCKS DONT DESERVE IT! SO FUCK YOU ALL!!! YOU WONT KNOW WHEN THE WEDDING IS!! HA HA HA. LOSERS.

user51: charles wait we were joking

user52: don’t pmo

user53: DONT BE SUCH A BABY!!! WHENS THE FUCKING WEDDING?

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz, and 1,027,017 others!

maxverstappen1: i’ve reached peak happiness

view comments below!

user53: you are fucking kidding me

user54: CHARLES I WILL KILL YOU

user55: WHAT

user56: WHEN

user57: HOW

user58: WHERE

yourusername; 💙💙

user59: BUT YOU JUST PROPOSED??? LIKE THREE MONTHS AGO

user60: no, you guys are actually so fake for this

user61: wow, i can’t believe this

landonorris: congratulations!! i still think me as a bridesmaid would’ve been amazing but….

maxverstappen1: let it go lando

landonorris; FINE

user62: charles when i find you

user63: i say we all kill charles on his birthday

user64: how could you guys do this to me??

oscarpiastri: loved the shrimp! 🦐

user65: THEY HAD SHRIMP

user66: charles planned a whole wedding in 3 months???

use67: that’s actually so impressive

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, user68, and 927,518 others!

yourusername: i win! 👰‍♀️

view comments below!

user68: you’re actually fucking kidding me. charles leclerc when i find you

user69: not to much now, he did plan this in 3 only months

charles_leclerc: THANK YOU!! HOW ABOUT SOME APPRECIATION FOR MY PLANNING

user70: stfu. it’s your fault non of us knew when the wedding was going to be

user71: these pictures are so cute 🥰

user78: living through you guys rn

user79: someday i hope to be married to someone who loves me as much as max loves yn

user80: con😭gra😭tula😭tions😭

user81: so happy for you guys!!! i will go kill myself now!!!

user82: THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME

user83: that man did NOT wait to put a ring on it

user84: if he wanted to, he would

user85: let this be a reminder to women that if someone wanted to marry you, they would!! congratulations 💙

oscarpiastri: loved the shrimps 🍤

user86: we get it oscar

oscarpiastri; no. you don’t. the shrimp were delicious.

user87: don’t brag

oscarpiastri: i’ll brag all i want. you can’t do anything about it because i had the shrimp and you didn’t 😹

user88: oh damn

user89: someone’s passionate about the shrimp…

yoursistersuser: love you to the moon and back 🌙

yourusername:💛💛💛

charles_leclerc: i’m hearing a lot of ‘love you’ and ‘shrimps’ but i’m not hearing enough ‘thank you charles for planning a beautiful wedding in 3 months and taking time out of your very BUSY racing career to make sure my wedding was amazing’

yourusername: don’t act like you didn’t beg me to let you plan the wedding

maxverstappen1: yeah, me and yn were fine with eloping

charles_leclerc: please guys, no need to thank me! it was my pleasure ❤️

oscarpiastri: the shrimp were great man

liked by carlossainz, maxverstappen1, user90, and 710,761 others!

charles_leclerc: since no one else will say it 😒 thank you charles for planning a beautiful wedding in 3 months and taking time out of your very BUSY racing career to make sure my wedding was amazing

view comments below!

user91: i’m still pissed at you for not telling us when the wedding is

user91: it was a beautiful wedding tho

charles_leclerc: thank you charles!!

charles_leclerc: of course charles!!!

charles_leclerc: beautiful work!! especially with the very short time you were given

user92: maybe we shouldn’t let charles plan anymore weddings, it looks like they’ve drove him insane

carlossainz: i look gorgeous

oscarpiastri: the shrimps were chef kiss 🤌

landonorris: what is with you man?

georgerussell63: are you still drunk?

user93: charles posting more photos then the actual people who got married is so funny 😭

user93: it really sums up their relationship

user94: beautiful wedding planning charles!! 👏

user95: how much do you charge??

user96: i still can’t believe yn and max got together, engaged, and married in less then 2 years

user97: i bet she’s pregnant

user98: WOAH

user99: where tf did that come from

user100: or maybe they just love each other??? not everyone waits years and years hoping that their shitty bf will propose to them

user101: oh! okay!

user102: you ate those decorations up charles

user103: the flowers??? gorgeous

user103: if yn and max ever divorce, i will kill myself

oscarpiastri: great shrimp 🥰

user14: what tf is wrong with you

. . .

thank you fo rrequesting!!! life’s been busy but i hope you guys didn’t forget me 🩶

[hoseoksluna]

PROMISES | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x f. reader

genre: fwb au / angst, smut

word count: 9.3k

summary: when you needed your social battery recharged by your fuck buddy yoongi, you didn't expect to have your undiscovered feelings for him reciprocated. 

pin: promise / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: strong daddy issues, slight dd/lg, manipulation, tiny rough treatmeant, edging, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), teasing, mixed feelings, oc is confused abt her feelings and the whole situation, fight, yoongi counts down, unprotected sex, pussy spanks, nipple play.

note: this has to be my worst work in the whole hoseoksluna universe. i'm terribly upset, disgusted, unmotivated. i wrote this all week, hated every second, and i'm sorry to say this is my last smut for a while. i'm really struggling mentally, i'm struggling with writing, and i don't know what to do anymore. i'm posting this a day early because i can't stand this fic anymore. i can't stand smut. you're free to skip this one until i get better.

You were a folded swan, drifting upon the smooth, glittering surface of a river that led nowhere—a dead end, bearing the face of a man you’ve been casually seeing for the past few months. A man that clutched adrenaline and tenderness in his fist like a bouquet of the prettiest woodland wildflowers, on top of which perched a note signed in your name. Scratchy Latin letters, doused in ebony ink, they had more life than you did at this moment; poetry-woven experiences that had you feeling life like life should be felt—drastically, enthusiastically and delightfully. Every vowel depicted the closure of each night you spent with him: mouth parted agape, through which the sweetest moans would erupt and saturate him in a certain kind of fatherliness, pride and manliness. 

It’s what you need, laying as you are on the linen sheets of your bed, dressed down to your lacy underwear that you thought would make you feel better, somehow would recharge your dead battery that was stuck on zero percent for longer than you care to admit. Father issues, dissatisfaction at your workplace, at your home life, at life itself. You were tired, your concentration running thin as you were watching your well-loved K-drama that you have seen a hundred times before. Through your vision, your own non-romantic interest would fly by, smiling down at you in your dejected state and form. Your body knows him more thoroughly than your heart, stirring erratically at the memories that would begin to flood your system. Tongue, lips, hands. His cock that he would tease you with, giving it to you and not giving it to you purposefully because he enjoyed the sight of your desperation for someone like him—a person who has seen the worst of life, its characteristics engraved upon his skin, and yet you still yearned for him, yearned for those scars. You didn’t have to tell him, but he knew. 

He knew by the way you would so very often trace the scar upon his shoulder, either with your fingertips or your lips. You were friends, fuck-buddies to be more precise. You were aware that someone entangled in a special friendship such as this shouldn’t do something like that, but you couldn’t help it. Yoongi taught you many times to listen to your body and you were doing just that. 

Following your body’s inclination to sink into his soul that he wasn’t too scared to let you inside of. 

He allowed you to do it to such an extent that the threat of his quick orgasm would appear and he would slip out of you, distract himself between your legs, make you come twice in a row—perhaps as a playful punishment, or perhaps as a reward. 

He saw you—and right now you need to be seen, folded in your forest-scented exhaustion while the river flows on, the trees sway on and everyone else passes by while you remain fixed on the same spot, stooped in your ungratified, seemingly unnamed problem. 

You can text him, ask for a quick fuck, something he’s very well acquainted with, used to at this point—so much that everytime you leave his place stuffed full of his cum, he stuffs you with something else as well. 

A promise for the next time.

A package of something to make you look forward to your tight-knit time spent with him. The last time, he had promised to take you to a running sushi restaurant, where you didn’t linger for long because you got fed up with the way other people would steal the sweet plates you wanted to try. He had fucked you in his car to make you feel better about your innate misanthropy and while he was balls-deep in you and you struggled to catch your breath, he promised you ice cream. With each thrust that squeezed your soul, he described how you’d enjoy each lick, the details of the flavor and how he’d buy you any ice cream you wanted. You hadn’t realized it then, within the stupor of your mind-numbing pleasure, but now as you are recollecting it, you perceive how bothered he was by the way other people ruined your night with him. 

And that rips open the restraints around the butterflies in your stomach. 

You want some ice cream—and more than that, you want to see him. Close your mouth around the adrenaline he’s always so willing to fill your life with. 

You don’t know what he’s doing at seven PM on a Thursday night. You usually meet him on Fridays or during the weekend if he’s working the day before. You’ve never shown him your neediness—and there’s a certain dangerous feel to it, baring yourself naked in this way, despite the fact he’s seen, touched, and licked every inch of you. And it’s hard for your brain to comprehend that you yearn for him when your social, emotional and physical battery is dead. If anything, you should be resting as you are, get right in order to be at your best for the next time you see him. 

But alas… 

With a sigh, you turn to your other side and reach for your phone that you’ve been charging, gliding your hands down the cable, imagining it’s his arm. And with a frustrated furrow of your brows, you tap on the circle above your messages. A pinned picture of him that you took, his face caught in his gummy smile against the dark backdrop of his car interior, filtrated with the twinkling lights of Seoul’s city buildings. Another sigh leaves you, one that exasperates you because why are you so needy for him? Why can’t you be a normal girl, independent, okay with your own company shared with the fictional people that you love? You’ve spent your girlhood like this, and happily so. Why does growing up mean you need the male energy more than your own? 

Biting your lip, your anxiety spikes up, but your desire for Yoongi overwhelms it, wins. And that settles a layer of calmness over it, gives the command to your fingers to type what they need to type. 

hi

what are you doing 

The bubbles don’t emerge from the dark motive of your chat until a few minutes later, the green of his message brightening up your phone—and your life, too. 

About to have a concert. Having a shot right now for your health. 

Oh, shit. A strange concoction of disappointment and a deep, low, murmuring stimulus rises in you. The swan in you elongates her neck, interested, but still dispirited considering her options. She will have to fold back into her form, and continue on her long, somber voyage back from the dead end, dwelling on the thrill of the flirtation of the man that she likes a little bit too much. 

Staring at the thick canvas of trees and shrubbery that aren’t letting you in to see him, you think about what to type, your thumbs hovering in the air. Life dislikes you; life wants you to suffer—

A ringing tone of your phone tugs you away from your distressed thoughts. The Latin letters of Yoongi’s name expand across the screen behind that picturesque and private shot of him, enlarged, stirring your heart. Silence spreads through your mind and your thumb quivers as you slide it across the bar to accept his call, placing the device against your ear. 

It feels as though you’re pressing the side of your head against his, especially so once you hear the warmth of his raspy voice pronouncing your name in his accent, marked by the liquor he drank prior to your messages. 

Enlivened, your body is. Just from that. 

“What’s up with you?” Yoongi asks, and the swan sails a little bit more swiftly, her tucked-in wings fluttering against her feathery body. You play with your necklace, your trembling so, so terribly evident. You’re glad he didn’t video call you, but the phone call is much more intimate and pleasant. 

You huff out a noise of desperation without meaning to and cringe at yourself, crunching up your features. Yoongi calls you by your name with a tiny hint of alarm and you curse yourself, silently. Your misanthropy gets pointed at you. 

“Noth—”

“Should I cancel my concert right now?” he suggests, cutting in, and you can hear the drunken playfulness in his voice, the one you have enjoyed on many occasions. Even acted out on your pleasure from it by making him, physically, feel good about it. You wish you could suck his dick right now, right before his concert, so he gives out his best for his fans. 

The sighs are ceaseless and you don’t bother to stop them at this point, your enlivened body soaking up in a swelling, unmet desire. 

“You’re sighing,” he notes, and you discern a cube of ice clinking in his glass, then a swallow of his throat, as if the indication of your yearning got him going, got him needing that burning liquid. “Are you horny for me?” 

Enlivened, your butterflies are, starting a war just from that sole question: desire versus your mental health. 

And using the vanilla scent of their wings, they remind you of the fact that you’re an adult woman and that you’re allowed, and more than allowed, to do whatever your body asks for. And if it’s asking for Yoongi, you’re going to go the extra mile to get him. 

Brazenly and femininely—and a little bit slyly. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m really craving that ice cream you promised me,” you say, lowering down your tone, and you play with the lacy lining of your bra. Think you can tease him with it for a good effect. “I’m wearing a nice lacy set right now.” 

Yoongi sucks in a breath and lets it out in a sigh that is entirely redolent of you, making your mouth curve in a soft smile. “What color?” 

Your expression of a muted joy expands as you tell him. “Red.” 

He swears, raspily, and the shade of your lingerie becomes more vibrant in the dimmed yellow light of your bedroom. And there you feel it—a more intense tendril of lust slithering down your sternum, moving your body side to side against your sheets in need. And the whimper that comes out of you is more primal than it is forced. 

At the sound, Yoongi pauses. You imagine him biting his lip, the gears in his brain turning, and he doesn’t disappoint you. He never does. 

“Do you have a dress of the same color?” he asks, small pants escaping his mouth, and you smirk. 

“I do.” 

He chuckles in personal delight. “Wear it for me. The set, too. I want to see it. I will pick you up after the concert and get you that ice cream.”

Your butterflies spring to your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. And you don’t know whether to be glad, to be happy, to jump on your bed or to get ready. All those emotions simultaneously gather in you, spreading sparks of excitement down your nerve endings. And most of all, you want to hug him. 

You want to hug your adrenaline-infused angel. 

“Okay,” you agree, prolonging the vowel, the muscles in your cheeks aching. “How long is the concert?”

His delight leaks out through a deep hum, one that causes you to tense your body in feverish eagerness. “Two hours. Can you wait that long for me without touching yourself?” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Think you can wait however long for him, just as long as you get to see him. “I can, but my panties will be ruined. Sticky and uncomfortable.” 

The hum is strangled by his strained intake of breath, turning you woozy, your fingers itching to slide beneath your said panties, knowing his noises alone would make you come in seconds. You weren’t wet before he called, but now you can feel the center of the fabric dampening the longer you talk to him. 

“I’ll take them off as soon as I can. I promise. Hold it out for me.” 

And you believe him. You compress that promise into your hand, warming it up with your body heat before you tuck it safely into the chambers of your heart—and you wait. 

You wait for him to fulfill the myriad of his promises. 

You did hold it out for him, and brilliantly so. You watched one episode of your drama with a little bit more vehemence, despite the fact Yoongi swam past your thoughts more times than you can count. You’ve never watched him perform in real life as his own private life was always kept in secrecy from his fans, but your curiosity led you to search him up online and watch a playback of one of his more upbeat songs. Dressed in a long black coat, white shirt and a tie, your mouth was wide open, as well as your eyes, as you took in his ferocious energy, enhanced by his passion, and you never looked at him the same as before. He became someone else, a figure of brutal yet tender power and it made you want him even more zealously. 

The memories of that performance resurfaced in your mind every now and then, and his Agust D persona would melt into the male interest of the show, deepening your desire for him as you dreamed. 

Dreamed of reaching different highs with him. More profound, more devastating. 

A dream that could never come true. A promise that would never flow past his mouth. 

You didn’t let that ruin your night, however. As the second hour wrapped around you and your body lacked the heat it needed, you shut your laptop and stood up to your feet, walking over to your closet. Your fingers found that red dress you had spoken about first before your eyes did, silky and sleek amidst the thick, woolen fabrics of your winter clothes. It was the only nice dress you had, one you haven’t worn before, and you were thrilled you got to wear it for him tonight. 

It fit you like a second skin, hugging your curves just right, fading into the lacy linings of your lingerie. One would have to sharpen their gaze in order to notice it—and you wondered if Yoongi was going to scout it with his eyes first or with his fingers. 

The unknown excited you, so much that your panties gained that stickiness you mentioned in the phone call. And when you sat down to slide your feet into your black strappy heels, the feeling was so intolerable that you cringed—and your brilliancy ended there. 

How were you going to sit against your cold arousal for another hour? 

The awaited text didn’t come through until you were dousing yourself in your vanilla perfume. Yoongi was downstairs, waiting for you in his car. Left my lights on for you, he had typed to reassure you because he knew how anxious it made you, looking for his parked car in the dark when you couldn’t see anything. 

Your heart blossomed two times bigger when you checked it from your window. Yoongi in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone, the headlights filtering through the mist of the deep of the night. You smoothed a hand down your tummy, calming your butterflies, and, reapplying your lipstick, you grabbed your coat and went outside to meet him. 

He spotted you long before you lifted your head to smile at him and he reached over to the side and opened the door for you. The motor was running, keeping the warmth intact for you, and you sighed in relief when you entered it—only to realize that Yoongi had turned on the seat heater for you. 

You melt into the leather, closing your eyes, the ambience of the present moment nestling upon you like the most delicate layer of snow that dissolves when you feel a swift breath along your neck and it’s Yoongi, lengthening his arm and closing the door while keeping his twinkling gaze on you and giving you a pleased smile. 

The butterflies kick against your stomach. 

“I was going to do that,” you say because you truly were—it’s just that the snug, comforting heat he prepared for you made you want to stop and bask in it as the short walk from your apartment building to his car numbed your bones to such an extent that you needed the time to defrost. And he quickened the process by placing an even warmer hand upon the nylon of your inner thigh that the slit of your dress and your trench coat exposed. “It’s just so cold.” 

He fondles the fabric of your tights on the top of your thigh with his thumb. A gesture of comfort that diffuses life down your legs and colors your cheeks in a shade of pink that irradiates the subdued atmosphere of the car. It’s hard to breathe—and it’s hard to resist him, keep yourself cool and not swing your leg over. 

Fuck the ice cream. You want something way creamier. 

“It’s only right I close it for you after I opened it,” he reassures, the deep tenor of his voice puncturing right through you, looking for your core, and you shift your hips, the discomfort of your wetness not allowing you to relax as much as you need. Yoongi’s eyes flick down to your movement and he parts his mouth as that distinctive smirk of his divulges his enjoyment in seeing you so horny for him. “Are you still sticky for me?” 

It’s now that you take the time to fully look at him. There’s a certain glossiness to his long hair that tells you he went home and took a shower before he got inside his car and drove through the quiet night to meet you. You can smell the rosemary of his shampoo and the usual minty aroma of his body wash, blended with his natural musky pheromones and the wood, the tangerine of his perfume. He’s the synthesis of your internal woodland, the breath of the trees that your swan inhales and a punishment, all in one; and you’re not sure if you can hold out any longer. Both emotionally, both physically.

“Very sticky,” you say, wrapping your hands around his arm, descending your fingers down the bulky, wooly material of his winter jacket like you were touching your charging cord—a temporary dream come true. You enclose your palm around his knuckles, think that if he feels how wet you are, he’ll realize that you sentimentally require more than he normally gives you—that your flesh will somehow tell him and give him the bravery to do so. 

But Yoongi doesn’t move an inch. His fingers remain fixed on the inner of your thigh, digging dents into the skin as you feel the bulging of his bicep the more you push his hand towards your wetly clothed cunt. His smile falls, his eyes droop—and the energy is charged with such unnamed intensity that you let go of your pursuit, slipping your fingers beneath the edge of his sleeve as a sign of your submission. 

That quickly. 

“You promised to hold out for me, didn’t you?” he asks, waiting for your agreement, and you nod, feverish, dripping with perspiration, with this great need that towers over you. “Then, be like Daddy and keep your promise or you’re not getting anything.” 

A shiver cascades down your spine—not merely from his authoritative voice, but from the role he dipped into that immediately puts you into yours. You begin to giggle, palming your mouth as the blush in your cheeks bursts and tears of overwhelmingness add a certain glint to your eyes that sparkles beneath the yellow-tinted car interior lights. And using this fatherliness of his, he interweaves your arousal around his long, piano fingers, announcing he’s its King. 

Your essence trickles out of the confines of your panties. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you whine, still giggling, you can’t help it. Yoongi takes after you, blessing you with that gummy grin of his that you adore so much. Your heart enlarges. 

“What exactly am I doing on purpose?” he challenges, kneading the flesh of your thigh, and he senses his answer right away. Your essence travels to his hand, stopping there, and once again Yoongi’s smile falls, eyes plummeting to it, hand lifting—and fingers gathering that warm slick. 

And it drips onto his own pants-clad thigh when he plunges his fingers into his mouth, shocking you to your core. 

“Yoongi—”

He hums in titillation, interrupting you, and smacks his mouth. For a brief amount of time, he seems to be in his own world as he tastes you on his tongue. And then, he takes those same fingers, turns the key in the ignition, moves forward the shift stick, and without sparing you a glance, he drives out of his usual parking spot and doesn’t hesitate to correct you. 

“Not Yoongi. Daddy.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. Think you need some kind of plug to stop your arousal from flowing down your thigh. Yoongi doesn’t mention what just happened throughout the whole drive, but you do notice his semi-hard manhood poking out of his groin area. You salivate, but don’t tempt him, squeezing your thighs together so tightly that your muscles cramp. 

You’ll save it for later. 

You listen to him talk about his concert experience of tonight while the drum in your clit matches the beat of the songs of his playlist. He speeds down the road, keeping his hands on the steering wheel and the shift stick, and he doesn’t look at you until he halts the car at the first red light. 

He smiles at you, knowingly. A dirty, dirty smile that turns your world upside down, vexes you deeply—enough for you to swivel your head in the other direction to ignore him because if you looked at him any longer like that, you’d be unbuckling his pants. But Yoongi does what he pleases. With his index finger, he whips your chin back to him, leans over and grins before he presses his lips against yours. 

A gentle, gentle kiss. One that does not mirror his demeanor. 

Your walls flutter, your whole body, too. Shock seizes you in its grasp at that gesture of affection and you can’t breathe—he’s stolen all of the oxygen in your lungs. The trees sway and bend, the swan in you dances quite buoyantly, despite the fact that a storm is coming. 

A storm of your emotions. 

He’s never kissed you like that—out of the blue, at the red light. He kisses you when he’s drunk, handsy and touchy-feely as he everlastingly is, but he doesn’t kiss you just like that when he’s sober. 

“You doing good?” he murmurs against your lips, ripping away the fingers of your shock, and it feels as though you’re waking up from a dream—only to glide, boundlessly, into another one. Yoongi waggles with your chin before he pulls away, the yellow light bathing him in its shade momentarily before the green blinks and he jumps back into his own world. 

Does he really think you won’t erupt in this storm? Disintegrate into smithereens and wipe everything clean that he is? 

“What was that for?” you ask, softly, your lips numb and aching for more of his tenderness, one that you would, in all honesty, die for. You trace the print of his own lips on yours, feel its heavy warmth, and you might as well be drunk just from that. 

You need a shot. And not just one. 

Yoongi bites his bottom lip. “You’re holding out so well. I thought you deserved it.” 

You roll your eyes back—not from raw annoyance, but from the pristine pleasure you receive from the dominant, fatherly energy of his words. Suddenly, you don’t know what to do with your hands, what to say, what to think. What you do know is that you surely will be crying into his pillow by the time this night is over and he’s fast asleep. 

But you can’t cry much. Can’t wake up with puffy eyes. Can’t reveal to him the gravity of your feelings. 

You don’t even remember the moment you realized you loved him. Think you loved him the first time you laid your eyes on him, but you buried it deeply in you—so deeply that you didn’t even recollect your feelings when Yoongi told you, straight away, that this was just a friends with benefits kind of arrangement. Truth be told, this business is the sole kind of relationship you can give him as you hate men. Always hated them. But you don’t hate him. 

He’s not them. He’s different. 

You may have wanted adrenaline and joy tonight, but as you dwell in this state of mind of yours, you slouch deeper into the leather and come to a heartbreaking understanding that you’ll never be happy in this life. 

The night-clothed streets pass by you in soft shapes in colors, disappearing instantly out of your view. And the woodland, the trees and the swan, they disappear, too. Shrouded by the fog of your abysmal sadness. 

***

Yoongi took you to such a small hotel that its luxuriousness pierced your eyes with its glorious light. You thought you were dining and ending the night at his place, but once Yoongi ordered your favorite shots of sweet rum with cocktail cherries, you perceived you were staying here. Perceived he was unknowingly giving you the opportunity to drown your feelings in alcohol as well. 

You almost didn’t wait for him to take his own shot before you downed yours, but hearing the click of his tongue, you stopped midway. And to make sure you did wait, he placed his palm upon your wrist, bringing your arm down onto the table as he ordered your dessert. 

Chocolate ice cream, just for her. Thank you. 

He made everything worse. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to be so good for him, listening to every order of his that came to his mind. Why you wanted that validation, that praise. You could just do whatever you desired—it wouldn’t scratch your relationship with him. You could be bad and he wouldn’t mind. Hell, you think he would even enjoy it. But why is it your inert yearning to please him so much? It’s devastating—and it’s your personal ruination. Because the more you do things that caress his ego, the deeper the abyss of your feelings for him goes. 

You shouldn’t. Not in the construct of your friendly relations. For the sake of your well-being.

You pry his fingers away and take that shot, watching his eyes grow large in their surprise. You never slide the cherry along with the liquor into your mouth, so once you swallow it, you open it wider and begin to chew it. His brows twitch, his own mouth parting at the sight and he leans back into his chair, completely submitted and enthralled by your act of defiance. 

And it feels good, going against him like that. Living your life by your own decided rules, and not his. 

You don’t hesitate to gulp down the other shot, but it’s not the slight burning of the liquid that gives you the buzz. It’s the way he seems to be completely pleased by your self-will, smiling lazily at you with his head tilted to the side. It propels you to steal his shot, too, and the brief facade of his pleasure collapses. A dark tendril of concern lines his eyes and those brows that twitched furrow, casting a dusky shadow over those slits. 

Now he’s aware of it, the tornado that spins within you. But he doesn’t know the cause of it, the decadent poetry verses that cover it. 

And he’ll never know—he’ll never read them. Because you’d much rather keep it in secrecy than risk losing him for all eternity. Feelings can be hidden, feelings can wander off, lose their bearings until they no longer remember that your body used to be their home. But Yoongi… he’s a person that you meet once in a lifetime. And losing him would mean that you lost not just your life, but the blood pumping in your veins as well.

It’s wrong, being attached like that to someone, regard him this way. And you’re cognizant of the fact it’s temporary—and for that sole reason, you bask in it. Because your life would be prosaic, and not poetic, if you didn’t. 

That is the motto you carry in your pathetic, but strong heart. 

And the darkness of his concern, it intoxicates you more than the last shot you take. 

The backdrop of dining and chattering people sway, just like your past trees, behind him. Manifestations of foreign lives you’ll never witness twice in your life, that are a part of you today and will part from you tomorrow. Yoongi, in the middle, remains stable. A beacon of light, unmoving, a great pillar of fixedness and steadiness. He peers at you through the thickness of his eyelashes, his aura solemn, no longer playful. Your sighs emit out of you in a constant stream while your eyes roam at everything in motion but him and he seems to strongly, strongly dislike that. 

“What’s up with you?” he asks for the second time around this evening, but the question has a loftier ring of seriousness to it. It passes through you, puncturing you until it pokes out of your back and transforms into a pair of monumental wings. Ones, upon which your feelings are mockingly hung, for his eyes to see, but not to recognize.

And the swaying of your body brings forth wetness to your eyes, for it is an anamnesis of the inner world you lost due to the comprehension of your feelings. 

“Nothing,” you say for the second time around, too. A hefty blanket of silence is thrown across the table, scattered with empty shot glasses that were meant to be shared between the pair of you. Unable to look at him, your eyes drop to them, count them—one, two, three, four—and then your irises wind up at his clenched fist. At the white valleys of his knuckles that are composed only when his fingers are wrapped around a microphone. And the blanket of the silence is warmer than the warmth he has given you—a sweltering layer of heartsickness that you can’t bear. With your drunk brain, you think you should pierce it, as if with a needle, with a response to a question he didn’t ask you. “I haven’t eaten much today, that’s why I’ve gotten drunk so quickly.” 

Yoongi runs a tongue down the inner flesh of his cheek. Ponders the information you have given him before he scolds you. “You didn’t eat and you drank four shots in a row. You won’t tell me what it is, fair enough, but I know you’re hiding it behind the pretense of you being horny.” 

His head swivels to the side, sensing a presence. And he watches as the waitress puts down an ornamental plate of two scoops of chocolate ice cream in front of you. You don’t pay her a second of your time. You set your eyes on Yoongi, on the darkness of his energy that you are ever so slowly and magnetically pulled to. 

Yes, he sees the problem, but doesn’t recognize it. He sees the shape of your wings, but he can’t recognize their color. 

The solidness of his call-out quivers. You’re not sure if you’re hiding it; you’re no longer sure about anything at this moment, but you don’t care. You have to stick to your secrecy, you have to keep your feelings safe and tucked away, no matter how far on the edge of the cliff they are. 

“I’m not hiding anything. I was horny,” you retort, not caring that the waitress is still present, picking up your shot glasses. Yoongi gives you a look while you tip your chin down and gaze at him through your long lashes—just like he did. A taste of his own sweet poison. And then you lift your foot and rest it between his outstretched legs, the sole of your stilettos pressing lightly against his soft groin. 

This is fun. This is the adrenaline you were seeking. Who would’ve thought you would be your own provider of that. 

Surprised by the abruptness of your act, he doesn’t let it show on his face, but his hands drift upwards from his thighs before he settles them around the bridge of your foot. He waits for the waitress to finish her job and, sensing the pressure, she scurries away without asking if you wanted to order another round. 

And in her absence, Yoongi begins to touch you. 

He sails his fingernails from your toes up to the thin strap of your shoe, wrapping them around your ankle. He squeezes your limb once, warning you about something you don’t know, his eyes tiny, tiny slits. Perhaps if you keep up with this, the night won’t end so prettily like it normally does. 

But you don’t believe it. You refuse to. And to be frank, you can’t. 

You shall have your fun. 

“Eat your ice cream before it melts,” he orders like the father he is, pointing at the dessert with his irises. 

You look at it, at the bits of the chocolate bars jutting out of it, then back up at him. “Feed it to me.” 

The slits break, his eyes enlarging. His reaction spreads all across his face—brows curling upwards, mouth parting, his thumb absentmindedly swiping across the skin of your shin, exposing how much he liked your request. Such an intimate place for that to happen. 

Then, he examines his surroundings. Then, he gets up from his chair and sits next to you on the booth, taking a hold of the spoon and your leg simultaneously, hooking it over his thigh. Scoops the ice cream and turns to you, his arm suspended in the air. 

“Open,” he rasps, and your eyes wet first before your mouth complies, opening wide for him. Yoongi slides the spoon into your mouth with expert gentleness, careful not to hurt you, and your first tear of the night cascades down your cheek when your mouth closes around the silver, your tastebuds cheering due to the chocolate flavor that overwhelms them. 

Yoongi, the man that could never disappoint you. Yoongi, the man who has given you more fatherly love than your own father ever did. 

How could you not love him? How could you not want more from the casualness of your relationship with him when he treats you like this? When he prepares a warm faith in men within your chest, a wet soil—out of which the tenderest sprout of joy shall grow? 

The second tear cascades down. The ice cream melts on your tongue. You swallow. 

Yoongi sighs, dropping his hands, the corners of his eyes rounding in an emotion you’ve never seen upon him. “You have to tell me what’s going on.” 

Your wings, swan-like, flutter behind you, ruffling the hair on the crown on his head. “The ice cream tastes good.” 

You brush away your tears, lamenting your foolish mistake, and fold your hands on your lap. Give him a teary smile that you can’t hide and open your mouth for him again. Yoongi doesn’t say anything as he continues to feed you and frown at you, not until another waitress comes and asks if you wish to order another round. His anger is evident in his voice as he turns her down, stating you won’t be drinking any more than you have. 

And again, he makes everything worse when he wipes your mouth clean after you finish the dessert. Pats your head to reward you. 

You hold your tears, watch him pay for you, give him your hand when he leads you towards the elevator up to the room where you’ll be staying tonight. 

Him, completely sober; you, drunk out of your mind. 

He doesn’t let go of your hand, even as you and him stand side by side, the silence as thick as death. You can’t stand it, can’t do anything else but to break it all over again. Though this time, you don’t do it with words. 

You do it with your actions. 

Stumbling on your feet like a freshly-born fawn, it’s only then that Yoongi looks at you. Holds you steady as you move in front of him to face him. He doesn’t swim along the current of all these brown shades of the elevator, but you can see a deep emotion waving through his ice-cold eyes that heat up, melt and droop when you envelop your arms around his neck and press your face against the side plane of his, kissing him there a hundred, a thousand times. You sink your fingers into the hair at the nape, tracing circles along his scalp and Yoongi shudders, breathes evenly against you, and it reminds you of the wind that swept past your woodland—the one that made your trees sway. 

All of that is gone because of your mistake. 

And something tells you that nothing will ever be the same. That something groundbreaking awaits you once these elevator doors open. 

And they open too quickly. 

Breaks your wordless actions that speak your gratitude for his fatherly behavior by gathering you into his arms, carrying you out of the elevator. Doesn’t let your aching feet touch the ground until the snugness of the tiny room welcomes you in. A queen-sized bed, a mirror across the wall that faces it, a round table by the balcony. It would be stifling if you were here alone, but Yoongi, somehow with his domineering energy, enlarges the room—makes it his. 

He empties out his pockets. Phone, wallet, keys. A white lighter and a pack of cigarettes. His jacket follows next, hooking it around one of the chairs, and once he notices your wavering feet, he sits down at the edge of the bed and sheds your trench coat, throwing it over his own jacket. Bends at the waist and takes off your heels, one by one. Only then, when you’re comfortable, does he set you down in the center of his lap. And you realize that the mirror is right in front of you. 

You watch him through it. Watch his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck; watch your own form disappear into the buffiness of his body as his hands begin to roam. His watch glints in the dim light of the room and his own being coalesces, becomes one with the murkiness. 

You want to do that, too. Forget who you are. Forget what you’re feeling. 

Tears prick at your waterline and you let out a pained sigh. Another foolish mistake of the night, one you’re about to pay for. 

“Talk to me,” he begs, a wisp of a tiny whiny weaving into his voice inconspicuously, but you catch it—and it vibrates through you, weakening you. It makes it so much harder for you, his unyielding need to know what’s troubling you, but how can you tell him? How can you risk never seeing him again? 

You remain silent, painfully so. 

Yoongi lifts his head from your neck and stares you dead in the eye through the mirror, chilling you down to the bone. 

“You truly think I’m just a guy you fuck?” he spits, his anger on full, unabashed blast that you should’ve seen coming with your restrained behavior, but it’s better to take his anger than to take his absence—and you shall devour that emotion of his. His question causes a hiccup to ensue in your chest, the secrecy of your feelings leaning over the edge of the cliff. Dangerously, dangerously close. “That you can’t confide in me? You think I’m just gonna fuck you and pretend I didn’t see you cry?” Your eyes dart away, a heavy load of agony settling over your heart, but Yoongi prevents you from looking away. Makes you look at him by grabbing your chin and keeping your head still, facing the mirror. “Is that what you want? You want me to be this kind of asshole?” 

You bite your lip, not knowing what to say, not knowing who you want him to be, not wanting to be in this situation at all. But Yoongi can’t stand your silence. Can’t stand the privacy of your trouble, as if he inertly knows that it has something to do with him. 

He softens his touch, but he doesn’t do the same with his voice. 

“Answer me.” 

You cry out in unnamed desperation, which propels Yoongi to lift your head up to him, so you can look at him—so you can see how much this matters to him. The emotion in his eyes vivaciously thumps, urging you to speak to him. He holds you to him like this, gripping your cheeks with the littlest amount of pressure, sucking in small breaths and you can’t. You’re going to explode if he keeps at it, and you’re going to die.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tiny cries emitting out of your throat, and it’s almost a cry for help. You bunch up his T-shirt in your trembling fist, seizing the solidness of him like your fear seizes you, and you don’t know whether to run or stay put on his lap like this. You’re appalled about where this is going and you’re certain that the same dead end is impatiently seeking you—

Yoongi shushes you. Averts his hand and caresses your hair down. Kisses your forehead, where he lingers a few long seconds that subdue the expression of your storm. Waits until your breathing evens out, so he can unravel the words swelling in him. 

“Even if you asked me, I couldn’t be this kind of asshole to you,” he reveals against that plane of your face, punctuating his sentence by pressing his nose against yours. And you can’t believe his actions, you can’t believe the kind of affection he’s bathing you in; it lessens your fear, slashing it apart until there’s nothing left of it. “Something is hurting your heart and that bothers me. And what pisses me off most of all is that you think I can’t help you.” 

You sniffle and slide your hand upwards to his neck. Try to memorize every inch of this paintwork that your life is graced with as tomorrow won’t have the same paints, the same brushstrokes—

“I’m not gonna fuck you. If you want to be touched, I’ll touch you, but don’t think for a second you’re coming tonight, not if you won’t talk to me,” he murmurs and you gasp, lowly, your wings slumping limply.

The promise of him fucking you was your only salvation for tonight. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, your mouth falling agape, unbelief clutching you at the intensity of his stubbornness. 

And you want to know the meaning behind it. 

“Why?” 

He scoffs, kissing your cheek as if you were a baby he’s cradling, and you can’t take it anymore. You untangle yourself from his grasp and stand up to your feet, your back against the mirror. Yoongi peers at you disapprovingly and then he shakes his index finger at you. Your legs mimic the same movement, trembling, weakening at that. 

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he says and flattens his lips, pauses before he opens his mouth again, but you stop him, despite how much you like it. 

“No, Yoongi. Why are you treating me like this?” 

He props his knuckles against his thighs. A powerful, powerful stance. Curls his lips around his teeth. “Like what?” 

You reflect him. “Like I’m something more.” 

Yoongi chuckles, humorlessly, at that. You spewed it out so rapidly that you don’t realize what you said until he lets out that noise that returns the drum to your sensitive parts. And briefly, as if you uttered something stupid, you grow smaller and smaller—until his following words change your life once and for all. 

“Because you are and because you always have been,” he rasps, the corners of his mouth downturning for a split second, exposing his own secrecy that brings you to your knees. They scruff against the white carpet, stained by time, and Yoongi’s eyes flash with light to see you in this position. 

Your heart hammers with more life than it ever had, with a kind of adrenaline it never felt before, and wetness clouds your vision, misting this situation in a cloud of disbelief. Your lungs fail you, shuddering underneath his hard gaze, and they swell greatly when Yoongi clasps your face in his hand, the one that pointed at you so fatherly, so devastatingly. 

“You’re not just a girl I fuck and I know I’m not a guy you fuck. What we have is irreplaceable, what we do has always been something more, beyond the label we gave it and I regret it,” he lets out, a pained sigh—just like yours—wafting over your features, and Yoongi leans over, propping his elbows on his knees, his other hand joining your face, fingers gripping your hair on each side. “I should’ve treated you more properly, with respect. Take you out on dates. Get to know you. Wait before you let me touch you… because that is what you deserve. You’re not a girl to mess around with. You have a dignity that needs to be taken seriously, that needs to be respected and I wish I had done that. I wish…” he trails off, clicking his tongue in ultimate regret, and you break. You break, break, break. Sob in his hands that hold you so steadily, that give you life, adrenaline and a new meaning to your whole being. Suffocate under his watch, the earth-shattering notion that this has changed the course of your trajectory of your relationship with him forever constricting your throat. “I wish I had allowed myself to court you like you deserve. I wish I had been better mentally, but I’ll make everything right if you want me to. If you want me as much as I want you, I’ll make it right. I’ll try my hardest.”

Your own words, your heartstrings tangle up in a complex manner. Your tongue twists, your speech held back, and you have no control over what comes out of your throat. You’re crawling through a limbo that has no end and each movement you make, the way back gets erased. You need to keep going before it swallows you, but you need him to lead you. You need him inside your skin, inside your heat, inside your mouth. You need to be connected to him in a way you’ve never been connected to him before. You need his breath in your lungs—and your attachment to him bursts in flames. 

Sated, elated, magnificent. 

“Fuck me and make me yours, Yoongi.” 

He sucks in a breath as if he didn’t expect you to accept his favor. The light in his eyes soaks his irises in wetness and his mouth trembles in a tender emotion before he smashes it against yours. And within that lip lock, the swan in you is reborn. 

A baby swan, learning how to sail upon this new, new river—needing her father more than ever before. 

The kiss is hard and the kiss is catastrophic. Yoongi moves his mouth against yours, sucking every bit of your old life out of you to fill you up with newness. Lifts you up and sits you back on his lap. But the kiss is too brief and you soon perceive that his anger hasn’t been shunned out. 

Wet and blue flames lick over his black pools. 

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you. What I said still applies.” 

The zipper slides down, the straps follow suit—and your silk is ripped away from your body that Yoongi turns over and moves to his preferable position, cradling you sideways like a child. And there—as he gives you a once over, studying the red lace of your lingerie, the swell of your breasts, the little valley of fat upon your tummy, the ruination of your panties and the stickiness of your thighs—there you realize that he’s as punishing you as much as he manipulating you into telling him. 

And it’s as arousing as it is bad. 

His free hand begins to roam while the other one holds you close, wrapped around your back, preventing you from running away. It ghosts over your breasts, causing your spine to arch into his palm and his throat to emit a delicious groan that drenches your panties. His fiery hand ventures down, his tongue gracing you with little praises of how beautiful you are, and when he reaches the V-line of your private parts, he discovers how much his deep voice and his touches affect you. 

He lifts his fingers and catches them glistening in the orange light. And this time, he doesn’t plunge them into his mouth. No, he sinks them inside your own. You swirl your tongue around them, coaxing that throaty noise of his that makes your hips buck up. Your tangy sweetness stupefies you and your so-loved woodland is remolded by that intimate act. By your connected gaze that could start a foreign war and bring the world down. 

“Suck on them,” he orders, and you comply. Hollow out your cheeks, make sucking noises as you find everything you ever searched for in his eyes. Stability, warmth, a father. Switch, cutely, between sucking them and dancing your tongue around them. His index and pinky fit just right between the elongated clefts of your cheeks and he coos, grows hard underneath you, kisses the tip of your nose, onto which he whispers: “Such a good little girl.” 

You moan and he reacts so trenchantly fast, withdrawing his fingers and using them to slide your panties to the side, placing them on your clit and not moving. 

“So swollen,” he comments, kissing you for a beat of time without closing his eyes, without missing this moment. “I like it when you’re like this. Swollen, dripping and so horny for me. Like I’ve never taken care of you before.” He glides his fingers down, past your lips to your hole before going back up, rooting on your throbbing clit before starting over. He etches desperation into your veins, stirs your butterflies to madness, and you breathe heavily. “No one will ever see you like this. No one, you hear me?” 

Your nod is automatic, thoughtless, and he’s pleased to the core. Enough that he begins to massage circles on your clit, your wings fluttering, no longer limp, but full of zest. And he can sense it—and it touches him so much that he deepens the pressure while the circles remain agonizingly slow. Your body writhes. Yoongi smirks down at you, grins fully when you clutch the nape of his neck and make little noises into his T-shirt. And just as soon your vision begins to blur and you reach the cusp of your orgasm, he stops.

“What’s hurting you?” 

He reciprocates your feelings, so you have no reason not to tell him. It’s more of a problem with your speech. You’re so fucked out that you can’t speak. 

Yoongi waits for a few seconds before he spanks your pussy. Maneuvers you so you can look at yourself in the mirror, your back against his chest, and he collects your arousal while he pins back your thigh, drifting all four of his fingers along your femininity, stimulating you and punishing you at the same time. Then, he lets you see your slick trickling out of his digits. 

“Look how wet you are, don’t you want to come?”

He’s a dark figure behind you while you are a small creature, spread wide, drooling, dressed in a sinful shade of red that doesn’t indicate her purity, whose smeared red mouth leaks loud, whiny whimpers when he sticks one of those fingers inside your heat, adding another one right away once you accommodate around him. He fucks you with a force that reverberates throughout your whole body and his name that pours out of your mouth like a prayer is a cry for help all over again. He pumps his fingers and pulls away, edging you in such a sinister way that drives out your tears. 

He worsens your condition—like he invariably does. But the rapidness of his pace, it unlocks your mouth, it untwists your tongue, and you begin to babble. 

Incoherent words, nonsense noises; sounds that blossom in volume when he withdraws ultimately, pushes the lace of your bra away from your breasts and kneads them with wet fingers. 

And you erupt, at last, when he flicks your nipples. You flood his pants-clothed thighs and knees, your slick streaming all the way to the carpet. And the river continues on with his words.

“I know you want this cock. I know you want it deep in you. But you’re not getting it if you don’t tell me right now what it is you’re using me to forget about,” he whispers into your ear, tweaking your nubs, his hands descending down your body and pinching your clit. You cry out, the aftershocks of pleasure dizzying you, his manipulation technique in full effect, and you’ll give it to him. Because of his cock, because of his affection. “You have three seconds. One, two, three—”

“I love you,” you confess, screaming it out of your lungs, and his eyes enlarging and his mouth parting in shock is all you see before you’re thrown on the bed.

Before your panties are ripped in half and flung behind him. 

Before your pussy is eaten and fingered in a way that makes you come in four heartbeats. 

Yoongi’s skilled tongue flicks your clit, his fingers curl in that special spot that bespeckles your vision with the stars of the night sky beyond the hotel room window. And you don’t latch onto the fact you’ve drenched him with your juices until he straddles your thigh, arches over you and kisses you with love-drunkenness, his fingers sliding back inside. 

And he doesn’t start fucking you until he confesses something, too. 

“I love you, too.” 

His digits drill you, his eyes pierce your soul and your orgasms are countless like this, not bound to time, not bound to anything at all. You squirt on him, bathe him in the newness of your relationship, cleansing off the old. And then he’s inside of you, murmuring reassuring words against your mouth about how that shouldn’t be troubling your heart. And you cry, you sob, you scream, overtaken by it all, your mouth numb by his constant hard kisses and if you ever belonged to him in the past—you didn’t. Because at this moment, as he stuffs you full of his cum, you’re interwoven into his DNA for all eternity. 

One that he nurtures as he holds you in his arms and asks you about how long you’ve loved him. And he in return tells you that he loved you the moment you first had a taste of what he could give you—laughter, guidance, and orgasms. All from the first date. 

And when you kiss him for the last time before sleep steals you away, you know that you’ll never lack adrenaline in your life ever again. As long as you’re with him, you’ll be on the receiving end. And his unchanging promises will make you look forward to each day, your batteries charged and green—like your blooming woodland.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: tkslovechild , @jjk7k , @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah ,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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jeon jungkook fic recs!

❁ romantic dreams | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.)

❁ Toned, Tanned, Fit & Ready - jungkook - @thvhoe (Jungkook loves acting like the word "Pain" doesn't exist in his vocabulary.)

❁ redamancy - jjk (part II) - @lesgetittkookie (jeongguk is just a normal dude with a simple routine. wake up, go to the gym, work his job as a waiter at this posh upscale restaurant in the heart of gangnam before coming home to a night full of video games and ramen (it's delicious and cheap). that routine gets disrupted when he accidentally taps the back of an expensive sports car of one of the richest men in south korea. considering he's broke, he couldn't afford to pay for the damages so the man makes a deal with him by offering him to work at his house as one of the gardeners. jeongguk takes it but wasn't prepared to meet this beautiful young woman who's constantly lounging by the pool, you, the rich man's daughter.)

❁ guys my age | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.)

❁ perfect timing. - jungkook - @delugguk (one night in a city full of life; what it's supposed to be a friendly and fun dinner date, ends up with a night full of unrevealed secrets and unexpected pleasure.)

❁ ⤷ seven days — jjk - @jvngkoos (jungkook does everything to make you forgive him for seven days, will you pity him and accept his apology?)

❁ visions - jungkook (yandere) - @trivia-yandere (you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go.)

❁ ⤷ got her skippin’ work — jjk - @jvngkoos (trying to go to work is an everyday challenge for you with a boyfriend like jungkook, and it’s one of those mornings where he does anything and everything to keep you in bed with him)

❁ ego season masterlist | jjk - @sparklingchim (your ex-high-school crush is now your fuck buddy. you just gotta make sure that your older brother taehyung, jungkook's best friend, doesn't catch you red-handed.)

❁ Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea (In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?)

❁ RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE - @rklve (your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.)

❁ seven days a week | jjk (m) masterlist - @jjkeverlast (jeon jungkook has always had crazy ideas, but wanting to fuck you every day of the week was the last thing you expected.)

❁ blueberry haze | jjk - @caelesjjk (he had been eye fucking you from the stage all night. but you never expected anything to come of it. but when you run into the beautiful blue haired drummer after the show, you decide to let him show you some of his other talents.)

❁ cabin fever | jjk (m) - @jeongi (trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two.)

[lady-lauren]

❥ SMOKER X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.7k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: choking, breathplay, throat fucking, power dynamics (admiral/marine), abuse of power, established fuck-buddy relationship, smoking (he definitely blows smoke in your face, sorry), creampie, he's mean but there's a heart in there, somewhere

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

You become a whole different level of slutty when Smoker flexes his strong fingers around your windpipe.

Each time his cock hits the back of your throat, he squeezes, making low, filthy noises. 

This time he has you draped over his desk on your back, tits spilling out of your uniform as your head hangs from the edge, cradled by massive hands.

You swore he didn’t need to punish you—and he knows the truth, you don’t deserve it—but he can do whatever the hell he wants to his subordinates. 

“Use your tongue,” Smoker spits with no honey around his words, “fuck, just like that.”

He’s sure your vision is full of spots and the obscene view of his fat balls. 

The pressure he keeps on you is cruel, but not enough to have you passing out with his cock in your mouth. It’s all deliberate control. Squeezing his thick fingers around swallowing sinew, petting his thumb down the center column of your throat. He can see and feel his dick inside your neck. 

You’re mewling like a cat in heat, drool soaking your cheeks, bubbling around the tight suck of your lips. 

You’re nothing but his to use, and you’ve drifted off into that perfect space where you let go and give into his command. 

If he wasn’t so god damn horny at the sight of the wet spot between your clenched thighs, he’d go ahead and spill his seed down your throat and watch you try to swallow. 

Your hot tongue is dragging along the underside of his length with every deep pass of his cock, talented little muscle licking at the curving veins. He snaps his hips roughly, grinning as you finally start to choke and search for air around his dick. 

He tortures you just a little longer, content to feel the warmth of your sweet little mouth glossing over your Admiral’s cock. 

Smoker decides to give you just a glimpse of mercy when he finally dislodges himself from your throat. 

“Strip.” 

For a second he’s not sure if you heard his command over your laborious panting. Your head dangles off his desk as you gasp. But then you’re moving with the gracefulness of any well trained marine, getting to your feet and dutifully removing the rest of your uniform.

“Where do you wa—”

“Ah, ah.” He cuts you off as he sits back into his chair, waving his finger as if scolding a petulant child. “No questions. No talking. Come sit on my dick and let me show you what happens to bad girls.” 

Only you’re such a good girl as you do what you’re told, slotting your thighs over his and arching your pretty neck back like you’re just expecting him to take it. 

He eyes you over billows of smoke, his teeth gritting into the bitter wrapping of his cigar. Such a pretty sight, a trusting girl all naked and vulnerable in his lap.

You don’t deserve this. You really don’t. But he will find any excuse to wrap his fist around your throat and impale your tight cunt with his cock. 

For him, acquiring wants and fulfilling desires is so disgustingly effortless. Perks of the job title.

Smoker slots his hand back home on your neck and uses the leverage to sink you down over his length. Your pussy is already sloppy, gushing with slick as he works his way into you. The heat is almost overwhelming for him, his throbbing cock soothed by your tight squeeze.

He could kill you with just a twist of his wrist, bury you in a shallow grave and never see the light of consequences. Yet you let him feel your hurried heartbeat beneath his massive palm, staring him down with some kind of malign pleasure as your lips part.

“Gonna use you like a little fucking cocksleeve, marine.”

A smirk pulls at his cheek because he can tell you’re dying to speak, say something bratty that tuts off your tongue. But the good girl he trained keeps quiet at his command. 

Sinking his fingers into your hip, he uses the strength in his brawny forearm to lift you up and down, urging you to sink farther and farther along his impossibly thick cock. 

Finally, he buries himself inside of you, bottoming out with a reverberating grunt that makes your skin prickle. You swallow thickly beneath his palm. 

He keeps a mean pressure on your hip, pushing you down like you haven’t already taken all of him inside, like you can’t already feel the thumping veins of his cock pulsing against your walls. 

You push against the strength of his arm, and he lets you. Deft fingers pluck at his steaming cigar, holding it just over his shoulder so you can come closer and taste what you desire.

You meld your lips to his as you start to roll your hips, begging him to buck into you. 

He’s so self-satisfied that you know the rhythm of his mouth by now, know when to open your lips and turn your face in his harsh grip.

“Atta girl,” he groans against your wet, bruised lips, “let me do the work.”

He snatches his addiction back from your hand and puffs smoke directly into your face. His heavy brow arches with a thrill as he watches his clouds push over your skin, encircling your curves.

Stirring beneath you, broad thighs shift apart in the chair and his hands become iron on your body. You arch your back, moaning aloud as he begins to slowly thrust, keeping himself sheathed inside of you and grinding into your depths like he expects there to be more to give.

He lets you moan—he likes the little sounds you make, all gargled and sweet and breathy. But when he feels the rumble of your vocal cords, he dials in the controlled pressure on your throat, making sure you know to shut the fuck up. 

Smoker drags his dick down your spongy walls, pulling until just the tip is left twitching in you, and then slams himself with a power that has your head falling limp in his hold. 

He’s got you now. He’ll use you for however long he wants. 

You’re so little compared to him, easy to manipulate, easy to bounce like a toy with the simplest cant of his hips. He keeps you constrained and riding him until you’re gasping, the pop of p’s from smothered pleases the only sound he lets emit from your mouth.

“I think you like getting in trouble, marine. Think you want the punishment of my cock in your guts, yeah?” 

You’d nod if you could. 

Fat fingers press until he feels the whole of your heartbeat across his palm, blood singing in your carotid arteries. He’s stopping the flow to that pretty head, content to make you lose your sense of self.

It’s fun fucking the smart ones dumb.

Leaning you back, he misses the warmth of your hot tits squished against his chest, but is delighted to watch them bounce as he gets more forceful with his pounding. 

He has you in a rhythm that has his aching cock sliding from tip to balls with every wet plunge. 

“S–Sir,” you manage to croak. 

“What part,” he grunts as sweat beads down his forehead, “of keeping fucking quiet,” he shoves his cock so deep he feels his tip knock against your poor cervix, “don’t you understand?”

You know how to get him to stop, know to tap his wrist three times and he’ll dump you into the floor and let you breathe. You’ve done it before. 

So the fact that you’re scratching your nails down his forearm, nearly drawing the blood of your superior officer, tells him that instead you’re probably dying to cum on his cock. 

“You think you get to cum? You’re mine to use, marine, you’ll take whatever the fuck I give you.”

Only he knows if he angles you just a bit forward, starts grinding his cock in deep and letting his pelvis rub against that puffy clit, you’ll both get what you want. 

Your lower body is tired of the spread around his thick thighs, he’s sure, but you don’t dare show it as you start to match his pace, rolling faster and bouncing that perfect ass in his lap to find release.

Every new plunge has his cock hitting the soft spot in your pussy that makes him groan. 

“Not gonna pull out this time,” he warns with a grin. 

You gasp in his hold, unable to protest as his fist around your neck tightens until he’s sure you see stars. But you don’t tap him. 

“Oh you’re fucking nasty, aren’t you? My little marine wants her pussy filled with cum.”

When your cunt starts to convulse with the first waves of orgasm, he knows he’s got you dead to rights. 

Smoker slowly eases the pressure on your throat, letting his balls release as he hears the sweet sound of you sucking in breath as you cry and cum. That’s the best part—getting all that fresh oxygen the moment he lets you explode in bliss all over his lap.

Feeling his cum burst in your pussy makes him feel dirty, hits him with the guilt that maybe he actually is abusing his power. But as you gasp for breath like your head just breached the waves of the sea, nails sinking his shoulders, the most cumdrunk look on your face as you press down in his lap, he’s pretty sure he’s going to cum in you next time, too. 

You lean in to kiss his neck, collapse in his arms, breathing in the smell of sex in his office. 

“You, uh,” he pauses, lip curling at the niceties he debates, “you okay?” 

Arching your brow, you sit back, both of you grunting as he pulls his still-hard cock from your drenched hole. You lick your swollen lips.

He scoffs, “You have permission to speak.” 

“Can I use the officers’ shower to clean up your mess, sir?” 

Smoker can’t help but snort, manhandling you up and over his shoulder with ease.

“You know what fucking happens when you push your luck.” 

[leclerced]

my girl | op81 cs55

summary: mafia!oscar is possessive over his best friend who he hasn’t seen in months due to his work. he has to step in when a rival tries to ignore his city wide ban on her. inspired by this brainrot from j about mafia oscar

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. possessive oscar, degradation, carlos being tied up, reader getting fucked in front of carlos, mentions of violence (its a mafia au what do you expect?) unprotected sex, marking, etc.

author’s note: will eventually write about them talking. but wanted to post and am too tired. this is 7.7k worth of smut. please let me know what you think 🫶🏻

Carlos has always known about the protective order, it’s part of what makes the chase so fun. He’d seen her around town and asked about her and his men told him she was off limits, deemed so by the leader of his rival gang. Many told him they’d tried hitting on her and were later threatened by someone to stay away from her, usually when they went for a drink or a piss. Carlos wants to laugh at the idea of someone scaring his men away from a woman, but then someone says they know people have been beaten half to death for getting too handsy in a club, people who disappeared when they didn’t listen to the warnings.

Carlos is the one she’s dancing with when Oscar finds them, Lando had pointed out her presence in his club when she arrived and he’d been searching for her. It would have been preferable to find her with anyone except his rival, but there she was, in a slinky black dress with her arms around his neck and his thigh slotted between hers. He’s sure his rival is here just to bother him, but he has a rule where no business is conducted on club grounds, so if Carlos is just here to party, he won’t start trouble. But this- he knows Carlos knows that she’s off limits by his own word. He can’t help the way his possessive side comes out when she sees her grinding against his rival.

Oscar doesn’t think twice before he sandwiches her between them, his hands resting over Carlos’s and the man’s eyes flutter open. He grins wickedly at Oscar, the very man who has a do not touch order on the woman he is very much touching right now. Carlos pulls her closer and presses his thigh up and she whimpers, her head falling back to rest on the shoulder of the new body behind her when the smell of his cologne hits her. It makes sense why the touch felt so familiar, why she felt so comfortable when a stranger joined them. Oscar.

She would have frozen if Carlos wasn’t guiding her body with his, she suddenly feels exposed as her best friend trails his hands down her hips. Suddenly, he tugs her back against him and at the same time, he pushes Carlos’s leg away and replaces it with his own. “Really? Didn’t think you think you had it in you to be riding a thigh in the back of some club.” The alcohol coursing through her veins prevents her from thinking clearly enough to remember he’s her best friend and best friends don’t do this; ban others from touching them and then interrupt their would be hookup, but it feels so natural she doesn’t think twice about rocking her hips down on his thigh.

His lips brush against the shell of her ear and he feels his rival try to guide her body back to his but he tightens his grip and holds her to his chest. “Don’t fucking think about it, Sainz.” Her mind splinters as she realizes they know each other, that Carlos definitely knows about the rule she didn’t know about until a few nights before when one of her best friend’s new buddies told her of it. She wants to ask him where he went, where he’s been for the past six months, but he presses his thigh into her pussy and she can’t do anything but gasp. She can feel him smirk as he rocks his body against hers, and she leans into him unconsciously.

His next words send a shiver down her spine, “Were you planning on taking her home?” Carlos nods and her stomach tightens, pussy fluttering at the thought. Oscar’s fingers twitch against her hips and he presses her down against his thigh. She lets out a moan as her clit rubs his thigh and he asks her, “You think he could make you cum? Is that why you’re here tonight, looking to get fucked?” She can’t help but nod, her hands tugging Carlos’s hair as she rolls her hips against Oscar’s thigh desperately. Carlos tries once again to pull her back to him and Oscar snaps, “You’re in my fucking club, Sainz, remember that. My girl, my club.” His sharp tone causes Carlos to stop pulling on her. He’s never called her his girl before and it makes her moan embarrassingly, in shock and satisfaction at hearing the words she’s always longed to hear. Oscar directs his next words to her, “Did you know that, doll? You came to my club, looking for cock.” She gasps at his words, wondering how her childhood friend could own a club, but he doesn’t give her time to ask for clarification before one of his hands slips between her thighs and presses against her panties. “You came to the right place, baby, I’ll give you what you want.” She grinds against his hand as Carlos glares at them, her eyes lock with his and she can see the hatred burning in them as her lips part in a moan when Oscar’s fingers slide her panties to the side and find her clit easily.

She doesn’t know where he’s been, what happened to him, hadn’t heard from him other than occasional texts or flower deliveries. She doesn’t think this is her Oscar, the sweet boy who picked daisies for her on the playground, or the one who makes her soup when she’s sick. No, this is someone she doesn’t know. This is an Oscar she hasn’t met before, one who bans a city of men from dating her because she’s his. One who owns clubs and claims her like this in them. She wants to know where her Oscar went, but she doesn’t want this Oscar to leave her. She’s drunk on him, soaking in the feeling of his middle finger swirling around her clit as his lips begin working at a mark on the side of her throat. Her head lobs to the side, and his lips drift further south. It’s like he’s searching for something when he pulls her hair back and ghosts his lips over the nape of her neck. Then he’s whispering in her ear, “Where is it?”

Her mind spins with confusion and she mumbles, “What?”

He nips at the lobe of her ear then growls, “The necklace. Where. Is. It?”

She shivers at his tone and one of her hands leaves Carlos’s neck to reach for the bare spot on her chest, where his initials have hung for years, but finds nothing. She almost panics before she remembers how she specifically took it off, not wanting his initials branding her when she went out looking for another man tonight. She doesn’t have to say it. He knows, and it makes him angry. The fact that she’s worn that necklace every day since he gifted it to her, but chose tonight to take it off. He bites her throat, really bites it, she think there might be a bruise tomorrow in the shape of his teeth, but the thought turns her on instead of angering it the way it should. The possessive gnash of his teeth on her flesh hurts, digging in enough that the momentary pleasure turns to pain and she’s clamping her thighs around his and whimpering.

Carlos watches the act, doesn’t know what Oscar whispers to her, but he sees his lips move, feels her hand leave his hair and meet her blank chest, lips parting in a silent gasp. Then Oscar’s giving Carlos a look that should scare him, as he sinks his teeth into her flesh. Her eyes flutter shut and he sees a grimace of pain on her face as Oscar releases his hold. Then, he bares his teeth at Carlos as he slides the strap of her dress down before sinking his teeth into her shoulder, and her other hand leaves Carlos to reach and tangle into Oscar’s hair. When he releases the second bite, he grunts, “We’re leaving.” He says it to Carlos, and something about it tells him to follow, that Oscar wants him to follow. She looks at Oscar like she’s in love, turning her head to him and brushing her nose against his cheek affectionately.

She’s not expecting Carlos to follow them or Oscar to let him follow and climb into the backseat while Oscar opens the passenger door and ushers her in. He even buckles her in, pressing a kiss to her hand before he ducks out of the car and shuts the door before rounding the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. She assumes they’re going to Oscar’s, she isn't sure where that is anymore, she tried going to visit and it was up for rent, and he didn’t return her texts to hang out. It sends a pang of hurt to her heart, the way he’s ignored her for months, and the anger she should have felt earlier begins to set in as she realizes he’s been ignoring her until he saw her with another man. He seems to sense her unease and rests and hand on her knee, she wishes it didn’t, but his touch immediately relaxes her and the thoughts fade away.

Instead of Oscar’s mysterious new place, she finds herself recognizing the route back to her apartment. She stays silent the entire ride, wondering what Oscar’s planning in his head. Once they make it inside her apartment, Oscar grabs a dining chair and begins walking towards her bedroom, so she follows him, Carlos in tow. Oscar sets the chair in front of the bed and she waits behind it, Carlos by her side, as he begins looking through her dresser. A moment later, he pulls out a tie, an old one either he or an ex left behind. “Sit, Sainz.”

The older man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest, “Like hell you’re tying me up.”

Oscar glares at him through the vanity mirror as he begins searching through the jewelry box on top, “Sit down, or get the fuck out.” She glances between them and Carlos looks at her, probably expecting her to speak out for him, but she does nothing. He sits. Oscar turns a moment later, a gold chain in one hand and the tie in the other. She recognizes it instantly, and her hand drifts back up to the space just under her collar bone where the gold letters always sit. He doesn’t have to ask her to lift her hair when he moves behind her, she does it automatically and he clasps his initials around her neck like a collar, brushing his fingers over the still darkening teeth marks on her skin. He nudges her aside and crouches behind Carlos, tugging his arms behind the chair and tying his wrists together. Carlos instinctively tries to pull his arms away when Oscar finishes to test the knot, but it holds. Oscar pats his shoulder as he stands and mockingly says, “Good boy. Now stay.”

The order makes Carlos see red, and he begins to react, to jerk up and out of the chair and smash his fist into Oscar’s jaw, but the knot fights his strength and the position he’d tied in holds him back against the chair so he can’t even stand up. He slumps back after a moment of writhing, Oscar’s hand burning a hole through his shirt. He realizes then he’s about to be made to watch them fuck, not partake like he’d foolishly thought at the club. He should have known, should have let them leave and found someone else to sink his cock into.

He can hear lips smacking and then they’re in his side view as Oscar pushes her towards the bed. His cock twitches in his jeans as he watches Oscar unravel her with a kiss, her hands grasping at his shirt to pull him closer as she pushes herself up on her toes to kiss him harder, moaning into his mouth. He can feel his heart pumping faster, can feel the blood pumping through his entire body as he fights the restraints. Oscar easily lifts her onto the bed and her legs wrap around him automatically, grinding her pelvis against his and she moans again. It’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he can tell Oscar is putting his all into the kiss and she’s taking it all and giving herself to him. He’s never wanted to be anyone other than himself, but in this moment be would kill to be Oscar.

The instant Oscar’s lips are on hers, the man she met earlier in the night vanished from memory. She can’t get enough of him, if she thought his lips on her neck earlier felt good, this was euphoric. He keeps biting her lip too, nipping and sucking at them before slipping his tongue back into her mouth. She’s never been kissed so good before, she never wants to stop kissing him. Then he pulls away, tugs her lower lip between his teeth before letting it smack against her upper lip and diving in for another sweltering kiss. She can feel how wet she is in her panties, the feeling of soaking fabric would be annoying if the ridge of his cock wasn’t pressed against her. She wondered if she was soaking through his jeans with how wet she was, if he could feel how hot she was for him down there.

It’s as if he can read her mind, his hands on her hips pull her closer and he grinds his hips against hers as he pulls back from the kiss. He brings one hand up to curl around the dainty letters hanging at her throat and she imagines him twisting the chain around his fist to choke her with it. The image makes her whimper and she looks up at him, awaiting.. something. Oscar licks his lips, can taste her strawberry lip balm on his own lips, the same one she’s used since she found it a decade ago and hailed it as her personal holy grail. He knows the taste well from having borrowed it over the years, but it’s much better coming from her own lips. He keeps the chain hanging from a finger as he lifts his hand to her jaw and squeezes lightly, “Open.” She blinks slowly at him and it reminds him of her cat, he wonders where it is, he didn’t notice the orange pest when he walked in, and then forgets about it again as her jaw falls open and she blinks at him again, just as slowly as before. He leans down over her and gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting onto her awaiting tongue. She flinches as he spits but doesn’t close her mouth, just blinks a few times in quick succession as her cunt throbs with need. She’d expected him to press the necklace into her mouth, not spit. She’s too turned on by the possessive act to be grossed out, and then he tells her to swallow it and she can’t help but moan as he presses her jaw closed for her.

Carlos has never heard something so erotic as the sound that leaves her when she swallows Oscar’s spit. The sound is so needy, he can feel precum dribble out of his cock as he squeezes his eyes shut and imagines she’s making that sound for him. He opens his eyes again when he hears her gasp and finds Oscar on his knees between her legs. She’s blushing and staring right at Carlos like she’s forgotten about him in the time that Oscar was kissing her. He clenches his jaw then teases, “Forget I was here? You look surprised to see me.”

Oscar laughs from his place between her thighs, “Haven’t even touched you yet, and I’m all you can think about, hm? I told you she was my girl, Sainz.” Carlos growls at the words but doesn’t deny them. Neither does she. There’s no point, not when her cheeks flush more at his words and she looks down at him fondly as she pushes his hair back off his forehead, leaving her hands curled in his hair. He watches as Oscar leans into her touch momentarily, imagines he’s letting his eyes flutter shut as he relaxes into her. Then, his hands are on her legs and he’s pressing a kiss to her knee before stands back up. He tugs at them hem of her dress, and she lifts her hips so he can pull it up. She automatically raises her hands above her head so he can lift it off, then lets her hands fall to his chest as he drops the dress behind him on the floor, his hands finding new purchase on her thighs. They teasingly slide up until they meet her panties and he hooks his fingers into them and tugs. She lifts her hips again so he can pull them down her legs. He kneels like before, pressing her legs apart so he can fit between them. Her hands find his hair again, running through it before stopping halfway through and resting on the crown of his head.

Her eyes meet Carlos’s again, briefly, before he looks down to take in how bare she is. The gold letters glint at Carlos as his eyes rake down her body. They’re the only thing remaining on her, marked with bite marks on either side of the gold chain and a hickey further up her throat. Her tits are as nice as he imagined, as plump as they looked in her dress. He wishes he could touch them, kiss them. Disappointingly, Oscar’s blocking the view of her pussy with his head.

Oscar’s lips find her thigh and he begins trailing kisses up her thighs until he meets her center, her hips unconsciously shift to meet his mouth. She keeps her eyes on him as he sucks his lower lip between his teeth and brings his hands up to part her lips. He groans at the sight, and his warm breath against her makes her shiver. He lets his lower lip fall free as he leans forward and presses his lips to her swollen clit. The action makes her stomach twitch and she whines, pressing her hips forwards again for more contact. He pulls back and she huffs impatiently, but before she can complain he leans back in and flattens his tongue against her, licking from her entrance to her clit before sucking the bud between his lips.

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth as she lets out a moan and Carlos groans, wishing he was the one tasting her. Her hands leave Oscar’s hair to press into the sheets and her head falls back between her shoulders as a louder moan spills from her lips. He tries again to slip out of the tie around his wrists, but doesn’t feel it give, doesn’t hear the fabric begin to tear. The skin around his wrists is sore already from his attempts to get out, he doesn’t know what will happen if he does get out, but he needs to touch her like Oscar is. She looks delectable as Oscar pushes her legs up to rest on his shoulders and nuzzles his face into her pussy. She arches her back as she falls back on the bed, catching herself on her elbows at the last minute. Her hands find her tits and she whines blissfully. Carlos watches as she pinches and tugs at her nipples while grinding her hips against Oscar’s face, her brows scrunching and lips parting each time a moan slips out. He would do anything to touch her right now, he can’t think straight because of how good she looks. His mouth is watering, he keeps licking his lips and swallowing down the spit that gathers in his mouth. It’s unfair. Carlos has never been more turned on his life, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Oscar moans against her pussy, he’s never tasted something so good in his life. This is where he’s meant to be, between his best friend’s legs with his tongue fucking inside of her. She sounds like an angel above him, whimpering his name and grinding on his face. When he flutters his eyes open and looks up at her, he’s blessed with the sight of her glossy eyes staring back at him. Her perky nipples are pinched between her fingers and she twists them as he moans against her again. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as her head tips back and she moans, but then she licks her lips as she reopens them and cries, “Feels so good Osc, ‘m so close.”

He really can’t help but moan again as she clenches around his tongue and he shakes his head to the side, his nose bumping her clit. He suddenly pulls his tongue from her hole and he licks flat up to her clit before mumbling, “Cum for me.” At the same time, he slips two fingers into her entrance and curls them. He reattaches his lips to her clit and sucks softly, gently nipping it with his teeth. He’s rewarded by her thighs clamping around his head and a warm gush around his fingers as she moans sweetly.

Carlos can hear the slick squelching noises coming from Oscar’s fingers in her as she cums, mixed with the sounds of their moans. He wants to mock Oscar for moaning into her pussy, but knows he’d be doing the same in his position. He can’t believe he’s fucking drooling watching his rival eat the object of his fantasies out. At this point, if Oscar told him he could touch her if he begged, he’d get on his hands and knees and kiss the floor at his feet for a chance at tasting the nectar between her thighs.

Oscar doesn’t stop lapping at her pussy until her thighs relax around him, then he suddenly releases his hold and kisses his way up her body. A moment later, his wet hand is grabbing her jaw and pulling her in for a hot kiss. Oscar’s hips grind against her’s as he kisses her, licking into her mouth as he moans. She can feel her pussy clenching around nothing as his cock rubs against her through his jeans. She detaches her right hand from her now sore nipple and drags it down his chest to slip under his shirt and press to his abdomen. “Fuck me, please, Oscar.” She pulls back from the kiss and whines, rubbing her nose against his softly.

He grins and stands to look back to Carlos. He looks angry and turned on, Oscar can see his cock hard in his jeans, and can feel the anger radiating off of him. He can’t help but tease, “You look fucked.”

Carlos snarls at him and tries to fight the restraints again and Oscar laughs. Laughs. He looks fucking gleeful, his slick mouth opening wide as he squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back. Carlos tries to stand and can’t, and it makes Oscar laugh harder. Then, suddenly he goes quiet and his face softens, but he looks at Carlos with pity, not fondness. “Be good, and I might let you cum.” The idea that Oscar has any control over Carlos makes his stomach twist, and he spits at Oscar. It lands on his shirt and the older man smirks. The younger man returns it and leaves his place between her legs and grabs Carlos’s jaw. He can taste her on Oscar’s fingers when he squeezes his jaw and shoves two inside.

Carlos gags as they hit the back of his throat and pants, his tongue unwillingly pressing out. Oscar smirks as he spreads his fingers and forces Carlos’s mouth wider, then spits on his tongue. Anger flares through Carlos and he tries to yank his arms free, tries to jerk his face out of Oscar’s hold, but it only hurts his wrists and forces Oscar’s fingers back into his throat. He hears her gasp behind Oscar and feels humiliated at the thought of her witnessing this.

Oscar groans at the feeling of his fingers spreading his spit over Carlos’s tongue. “Can you taste her? Does she taste good?” He’s surprised the older man isn’t biting his fingers off when they press into his throat and he fucks them into it twice. He retracts them at the idea and the man’s mouth snaps shut, he can feel his jaw tensing under his fingers as he grits his teeth and swallows. He lifts his knee and presses it into the man’s crotch, softly, and is rewarded with his eyes fluttering shut and his head tipping back as his jaw relaxes and his lips part. Then he seems to catch himself and his eyes jerk open and he kicks Oscar away with a grunt.

Oscar releases his hold and turns back to find she’s made herself at home in the pillows. He strips himself quickly before joining her on the bed, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the center. She lets out a surprised squeal and his stomach flutters at the grin that briefly takes over her face. He trails his hands up her legs and taps at her thighs. “Sit up for me.” His voice is soft and she instantly follows the command. She pushes herself up with her elbows, then hands, and tucks her knees under her as he slips behind her.

As soon as he moves, she locks eyes with Carlos and her entire body flushes as she takes in the way he looks. She can see his chest rapidly rising and falling, can hear the pants falling from his lips as he stares at them. He’s not glaring anymore, his eyes have glazed over and he just looks starved. Or fucked, as Oscar said. He meets her eye and she almost wants to ask Oscar to take pity on him and untie him, but then he’s lifting her hips and she can feel his cock against her ass. She wishes she had taken a look at it when he was in front of her, but she was too preoccupied thinking about her best friend spitting in Carlos’s mind. She breaks eye contact with Carlos to look down as Oscar’s hand sides from her hip to between her legs and watches as he swirls them around her clit before slipping two back inside.

Carlos finds himself following her gaze down and is met by the sight of Oscar’s fingers dipping inside of her. He looks back up to catch her reaction and finds she’s tipping her head back on Oscar’s shoulder as she gasps. He watches as she lifts a hand to curl it in Oscar’s hair behind her, to pull him impossibly closer. Her other hand wraps around his wrist to keep it between her thighs. He can feel Oscar staring at him and he meets the boy’s eyes.

Oscar curls his fingers as Carlos looks at him and she whines. “She’s so pretty, yeah? See why I won’t let anyone else touch her?” Carlos nods stupidly, he wouldn’t let anyone touch her either. Oscar smiles a little as he continues, “Haven’t done this before, y’know?” He presses a kiss to her neck and she sighs, tilting her head to the side to give him more room but he leaves it at one chaste kiss. “She’s so perfect, I didn’t wanna ruin her.”

She arches her back and presses her hips down on his hand, his fingers brush deeper inside her and she mewls. “Want you to ruin me, Oz.”

He snickers at her words, “I’m going to, and he’s going to watch. Gonna enjoy it too, aren’t you? You’re going to love every minute of it, watching me make her mine.” Oscar pulls his fingers from her cunt, she tries to push his hand back into place but he shakes her off and brings his hand around to wrap around his cock. She relaxes when she feels his hand behind her and realizes he’s about to replace his fingers with his cock.

He sighs as he guides the head of his cock to her entrance, dragging it through her slick to bump her clit. “Can’t believe I waited this long, can you, baby?”

She tugs his hair as she shakes her head, “Too long, Osc.” He slips his cock back to her entrance and she feels him press inside slowly. A whine leaves her lips at the instant stretch and she reaches behind her to grasp at his thigh, “Oh god, you’re big.” He presses further in and moans into her ear. He lets her adjust for a moment, his hands find her hips and he strokes his thumb across the skin soothingly as she pulsates around him. Then, he suddenly tugs her flush against him. She screams at the sudden intrusion, she can feel him in her stomach as he bottoms out. It burns, her cunt clenching around him helplessly to accommodate him. She almost falls forward but he catches her before she can, his hand quickly sliding up her body and wrapping around her throat to hold him against her. He doesn’t put any real pressure on her throat, just holds her.

Carlos can’t tear his eyes away from the pair, he can see her pussy stretching around Oscar’s cock, can see her slick soaking his cock. His own cock twitched at the sound of her scream and dribbled precum at the sight of her taking the other man’s cock. He finds himself wishing he hadn’t kicked Oscar’s momentary touch away. Her entire body is stretched out for Carlos to see, Oscar’s hand keeping her in place around her throat. The pretty gold necklace taunting him. She looks so fucked out just from Oscar being in her, mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering open and closed like she can’t keep them open but she wants to see. The idea that she wants to see Carlos in front of him makes him groan.

The sound piques Oscar’s interest, distracting him from the feeling of her squeezing him. “She feels so fucking good, mate.” He shifts his hips, barely drawing out before pushing back in, to see if she’s ready. When she moans and it doesn’t sound pained, he repeats the action. “Feel good, baby? You like taking my cock?”

She sighs and nods, “Feels so good.” His hand on her hip moves between her thighs, skimming over the soft patch of hair there before he finds her pussy. He presses two fingers to her entrance around his cock, slicking them up before her drags them to her clit and begins tracing his name into her clit one letter at a time. Her entire body convulses on the R shape, so he repeats it and he feels her thighs twitching against him.

Carlos looks defeated to Oscar. He’s slumped over in the chair, head hanging limply as he watches them. He keeps licking his lips and swallowing, but that’s all he’s doing. Watching Oscar’s cock slowly thrust in and out of her. He decides to give him a show. He picks up the pace of his thrusts and the room is filled with the sound of her moans and his pants, the slick squelching of his cock entering her eat time and his skin slapping against hers. Her back is arched beautifully, probably painfully, as she tugs on Oscar’s hair and presses herself back on his cock each time he pulls out.

It doesn’t take long for her to come unraveled, he can feel it before she tells him, the way her cunt flutters and her stomach contracts. It almost does it in when she tells him, whiny and breathless, “‘M gonna cum.”

He brings his lips down to her ear and says, “Cum around my cock, pretty.” She moans at his words and he presses harder on her clit, fucking into her harder. He sinks into her neck again, just under her ear, and the pain sends her over the edge. He holds her against him as she tries to pull away with the force of her orgasm, he wants Carlos to see it all. He keeps his eyes on the man as he fucks her through it until she finally goes lax in his grip and he lets go, of the bite and his hand around her throat and she slumps forward. He feels bad when she doesn’t even catch herself, lets herself fall face first into the plush mattress. Her body shivers once more from the sensitivity of her orgasm as Oscar leans over her and his cock shifts again. He looks Carlos in the eye as he says, “She’s my cockdumb whore, got it?” Then sinks his teeth into her shoulder. She whines and tries to jerk away but he bites harder and she stops squirming. Her pussy flutters around him blissfully and he groans against her skin. When he releases the bite, he flicks his tongue over the indents of his teeth and kisses it before pulling back to admire it. He brings his hand that was around her throat to press into it and she whimpers. His voice suddenly goes soft as he softens his touch and traces the outline and coos, “You want me to stop? Is it too much, honey?”

She shakes her head, spit slick lips dragging against her duvet as she mumbles, “Feels good.” She knows he can’t understand the muffled words as soon as they leave her and she quickly turns her head and presses her cheek into the sheets and repeats it clearly.

He presses down on the mark, “Yeah? You like it when I bite you? Mark you?” She repeats herself again, and he grins. His hand trails down her back until it rests on her hip and he pushes himself back up. “You’re so fucking wet, baby, all for me. Soaking my cock.” He wants to fuck her like this, with her face buried in the sheets, staring at her pretty ass, but he has a better idea. He pulls himself out of her, his grip tightening on her hips as she pushes back to chase his cock. He taps her hip with one hand, “Roll over, on your back.” She huffs but follows the order, rolling onto her back then shuffling underneath him. She automatically lifts her legs and wraps them around him to pull him closer. He allows it, brings his hands to rest on her hips and lifts her, holds her to her chest and shifts them closer to the edge of the bed then drops her, her head hangs off the edge and Carlos has the perfect view of her face and the necklace sitting pretty between her tits. He hadn’t realized his grip had tightened so much when she was cumming, but there’s a pink imprint of his hand. He wants Carlos so watch him fuck her like this, in the perfect position for her mouth to be fucked by him, but restricted from doing so.

Oscar lines back up with her entrance before he places his hands on her thighs and buries his cock in her in one swift movement. She chokes on a moan, and Oscar finds himself jealous of the sight Carlos gets when she arches her back and claws at the sheets. He tightens his grip on her hips to hold her steady as he sets a bruising pace, eyes locked on where her pussy stretches around his cock. He hears her whimper and casts his gaze up to see she’s playing with her tits again, squeezing them with both hands before pinching her nipples and repeating the action. He releases his right hand and grabs her hand to press it into the sheets, then dips down and wraps his lips around the abandoned nipple. Her hand fights his grip and he releases it out of curiosity, and she tangles it in his hair as she moans, “Oscar, more.” He lets go of her nipple and mouths at the flesh of her breast before he sinks his teeth into it. Her legs tighten around him and she moans sweetly, he releases the flesh before he cups the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss.

She whimpers into Oscar’s mouth as his cock brushes her sweet spot on every thrust. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders for a moment before she curls them around his neck to hold him against her. His nails scratch against her scalp as he licks into her mouth. She can feel him all over her, fingers digging into her hip and scalp, his cock in her stomach, sweaty chest pressed against hers. She drops her head back to gasp for air and his lips find purchase on her throat, nipping and sucking harshly. She meets Carlos’s eye again and licks her lips as she thinks about his cock in her mouth. His lips are bitten red and she wants to taste them, see if she can taste herself, taste Oscar, on his tongue.

She’s suddenly overwhelmed by pleasure when the hand on her hip moves and he presses his thumb to her clit. Her back arches as she moans his name, fingers slipping into his hair and tugging as he nips at the column of her throat. Oscar moans softly before teasing, “G’na cum around my cock already? So good for me.” His words push her over the edge a third time and she tightens her legs around him so he can’t move as her orgasm rocks through her. He resigns himself to grinding his cock into her, apparently perfectly so because her moans suddenly get pitchier and she writhes beneath him. Her pussy is hugging his cock so well, pulsating around him as her orgasm rolls through her body. She collapses underneath him after a moment and gasps for air. He pushes himself up to look at Carlos, his own cock twitches at the sight of his rival. He kind of looks pretty the same way she does, red lips and glossy eyes. His cheeks and nose are flushed and his hair looks soft, nice to run his fingers through. He looks down the other man’s body, to the obvious bulge in his jeans and feels his stomach stir. It probably hurts, he almost feels sorry for him.

He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes the thoughts aside, refocuses his attention on his best friend beneath him when he reopens his eyes. Her tits are bouncing with every thrust, the necklace shining in the light. He leans down and captures the pendant between his teeth then drops it into her own mouth, hanging off the bed. She instantly closes her mouth around it and whines. “That’s my girl. You look so fucking good like this. Doesn’t she Sainz?”

Carlos lifts his head slightly and groans, “Fucking incredible.” He wants to ignore Oscar, tell him to fuck off and untie him, but he’d agree to anything right now. She whines at his words and he instinctively bucks his hips up in search of friction and moans pitifully when he finds none.

Oscar dips his mouth back down to wrap around her right nipple, tugging on the bud with his teeth before sucking on it. She pets the back of his head as she sighs and presses into his touch. He’s so fucking close, he’s barely holding himself together as he quickens his pace to bring her to the edge with him. He stops circling her clit with his thumb and traces the letter R again, and she begins trembling around him again. “You almost there, baby? Gonna fill you up, mark you as mine.” A long, drawn out moan falls from her lips and she grips him so tight he almost explodes, but then she gasps, “Please, ‘m so close.” He groans against her skin and drags his lips from her breast back to her throat and skins his teeth into the flesh. Her body seizes under him as her orgasm crashes over her and the feeling of her gushing around his cock again sends him over the edge. He releases his bite to moan against her skin, pressing his lips to the indents his teeth made. His entire body shudders as he spills his seed inside of her, he can’t help but press his hand into her stomach to feel his cock bulging out.

Carlos has never been harder in his life as much as he would like to protest it. His jeans have a dark spot where his cock has been steadily leaking precum and it aches with a need to be touched he hasn’t felt before. He groans as he watches Oscar empty himself in her, his ears burning from the sounds of their mixed moans. It’s a sinful sight, Oscar rolling his hips into hers and her blinking dazedly at Carlos as her orgasm crashes through her. He finds himself moaning as he grinds his hips into nothing, feebly searching for satisfaction. She finds it in herself to grin at him, before her mouth falls back into an O as a moan spills past her lips and her eyes roll back.

Oscar pulls back from her throat when he’s sure he’s done cumming, but the sight of the marks on her throat and chest force another ribbon of cum out of him and he hisses. He slowly pulls out of her and immediately moves to Carlos, pressing his knee into the man’s crotch again. He doesn’t fight it this time, so Oscar curls a hand in his hair and forces him to look up at him. “She’s mine, got it?” Carlos nods as best he can with the hand holding his hair. “Say it.”

Carlos grits his teeth before admitting, “She’s yours.” Oscar nods, pleased. He maintains his hold but steps away from Carlos, turning back to his friend. “Darling, come to me.” She whines but rolls over and sits up, crawling to the edge of the bed before she swings her legs off the edge and stands. She wobbles and tips forwards into Oscar, he catches her then lowers her to the floor between Carlos’s legs. Oscar presses her face down with a gentle hand on the back of her head and she immediately places her hands on Carlos’s thighs and leans in. She lets her mouth hover over the wet spot before Oscar gives her another nudge and she begins lapping at his cock through his jeans. The moan he lets out goes straight to her cunt and she clenches around nothing, Oscar’s cum dripping out of her to the hardwood floor beneath her. She moans at the taste of him on her tongue and sucks at the fabric, earning another moan from Carlos.

Oscar’s once again struck by the thought that Carlos looks pretty when his eyes flutter shut and his lips part in a moan. He lightly tugs on his hair, not to be mean, just because he wants to, and is rewarded by a soft sigh and Carlos pushing his head back against Oscar’s hand. He tightens his grip and pulls harder, drawing a moan from the other man. “Look at her,” he coos and releases his hold on Carlos so his head drops again. He moans at the sight of her mouthing at him through his jeans, at the feeling. “She’s only doing it because of me. You get to cum because of me.”

Carlos groans at his words, his cock twitching at the bare mention of an orgasm. He’s worryingly close already from watching, from not being touched for so long. She looks up at him as she finds the head of his cock and begins sucking at it through his jeans and he can’t do anything to stop his orgasm from crashing over him. His head tips back as he moans and shudders, fighting against the restraints to tangle his hands in her hair and the pain of the fabric rubbing his wrists raw makes his mind spin.

Cum seeps through his pants and she eagerly laps it up, much to Oscar’s enjoyment. “How’s it feel to cum in your pants? Can’t say I’ve done that before.” Carlos starts to retort back to Oscar’s teasing, but then her teeth skim his sensitive cock through his jeans and he whimpers instead. It causes Oscar to snicker and pull her head back, “That’s enough, I think.” Carlos sighs and slumps into the chair, sucking in air as he stares down at her slick lips. The golden necklace is shiny as ever on her throat and he wishes he could rip it off and replace it with one of his own.

She looks up at Oscar and smiles like she didn’t just suck Carlos’s cock through his jeans, and then leans forward to press a kiss to Oscar’s bare hip. He ruffles her hair like a pet before stepping away, behind Carlos. He feels cool hands on his wrists, then a moment later his wrists are being massaged by cool fingers. He wants to jerk back from the touch but he doesn’t have it in him, too relieved to finally be released from his confines to care that his rival is doing something caring. A moment later, his arms are let go and he immediately brings them to his face to investigate the damage. His wrists are red and chaffed, sore, but nothing too bad. As he’s studying his wrists, he feels a nudge to the back of his chair, “We’re going to shower. You can let yourself out.” Carlos frowns at the words, jealousy burning in his stomach as she stands and he takes in her bare body again, hopefully not for the last time. Oscar’s hand finds her waist and he takes her hand and guides her to the bathroom. The door shuts, and he hears the lock click behind them.

He spends a few moments collecting himself, running through the last few hours, before he pulls out his phone and calls his friend Lando to come get him, hoping he doesn’t notice the wet spot on his dark jeans when he arrives at the sent location.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two--you are here/ Part Three

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war.

Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about why Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to, presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie was taken aback at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both flinched. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about Harrington's stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while Horrorton enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Steve would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking in the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're in the right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of intervention.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkins, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marked her as a memeber of the high school band, who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what Eddie was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends now.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation because they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[servndipityz]

remember how i said nam-gyu is evil the way a middle schooler is evil? that got me thinking. a lot.

if you ended up in his group, he’d so hate it. who were you to steal his spotlight? who were you to be all buddy-buddy with thanos?

there’s nothing nam-gyu would hate more than being thanos’ shadow—except not being it. so when you join their group, he’d have two possible reactions.

perhaps he’d act just like he did with se-mi, and absolutely despise you. he’d take any chance to contradict you; when you say black he says white, and sometimes he’d contradict himself in the process just to piss you off.

“the food here isn’t that bad,” you’d say, taking a mouthful of plain rice from your container.

nam-gyu would side-eye you. “it tastes like fucking shit,” he’d mutter under his breath.

so, the next day, you’d try something else. “we’ve been eating this for three days straight, it’s starting to get disgusting.”

he’d roll his eyes, “do you think we’re in a fucking buffet or what?” he’d spit, fully aware that no matter what you said, he’d find a reason to disagree.

or maybe he’d completely ignore you. you’d just be another background character to him, a little bit like gyeong-su. but it wouldn’t stop there. eventually, it’d feel intentional. he’d turn away when you spoke, walk faster if you were next to him, cut you off mid-sentence just to make it clear you didn’t exist to him. except you’d know—he wasn’t ignoring you at all. he’d adjust every little action, carefully pretending to not care, when really, all of it was about you.

either way, his mission would be the same, to get under your skin. physical contact? absolutely not off-limits. while thanos would throw a friendly arm around your shoulder, nam-gyu would tug your hair. not in a freaky, kinky way—no, he’d do it lightly, perfectly timed while the group was huddled together, so you’d have no idea who did it. but you’d always know it was him.

he’d sneak a bite of your food. pull at a loose thread on your tracksuit. toss tiny pebbles at you when no one was looking.

but he wasn’t making fun of you—not exactly. he didn’t laugh when he pissed you off. he just wanted to get to you. he’d enjoy it in a fucked up way, a way that’d genuinely make you think, what is wrong with him?

then, one night, you’d wake up—maybe because someone was snoring too loudly or because thanos wouldn’t stop tossing around—and in the dim light, you’d notice nam-gyu curled up on his bed, sleeping in fetal position with your tracksuit jacket draped over him.

he’d be gripping it, using it like a blanket. he was always cold, and you’d taken your jacket off to sleep, but you never expected him to just… take it. the way he held it, though—gripping the edges tightly, face buried in the fabric—it’d almost make you not hate him entirely.

the strangest part would come the next morning. you’d wake up to find the jacket draped over you. you’d seen him with it, so how was it back? had he…?

you’d glance at him, sitting on his bed, rubbing his eyes as he got ready for the day. you’d stare at him a moment longer, and when he noticed, he’d throw you the rudest face ever. “what?” he’d snap.

surely, he couldn’t have put it back on you. right? but you’d still wonder.

after a while, maybe he’d get used to you. used to having you around, used to you constantly making snarky retorts at him, used to having to work together. after all, you were in the same team, so technically you weren’t the enemy.

his hair-pulls would turn more into light tugs when he wanted your attention. the deliberate attempts to trip you would start being paired with his hand hovering near your wrist, ready to catch you before you actually fell. and sometimes, after a particularl harsh game, he’d casually leave his container of food half-full, just within your reach.

“don’t look at me like that,” he’d mutter, shrugging like he was annoyed. “i’m just not hungry.” then he’d walk off, sneaking a glance to make sure you were eating his leftovers.

before long, he’d start celebrating with you after a win. a quick squeeze of your shoulder, or maybe grabbing you and shaking you around if he got too excited.

at night, he’d wait every time you needed to go to the bathroom, sitting straight on his bed and watching the bathroom door from afar just to supervise that you were getting out.

“were you watching me?” you’d ask in a hushed voice, climbing back into your bed with a raised brow.

“no,” he’d whisper, almost offended. “i just couldn’t sleep.” and he’d lie back down—on a bed closer to yours than the one he originally picked. to keep the group together, he’d claimed.

“you cold?” you’d finally ask one night, although his back would be turned to you. still, you'd see his breathing stop for a split second. he was the kind of guy whose hands were always cold, the type of guy who just was always cold.

“no,” he’d say, after a long pause. a terrible liar.

you’d sigh, “okay… but you can come closer if you want.” you’d still say. at a certain point it had become quite normal to see people doing something that resembled snuggling. some of the players got cold in the night, and others just needed to hold onto someone at that point. it wasn’t exactly cuddling, but it wasn’t weird to see.

he’d stay still, and you’d be almost able to see the wheels turning in his head.

finally he’d turn around and scoot closer. just a little. and then a little more, and more, until your bodies would be almost touching, facing each other. the way the beds were arranged allowed for the players to get quite close together, if it weren’t for the small gaps between the mattresses.

he’d look at your eyes for a small while before trying to snuggle closer and burring his face down like a cat before drifting off to sleep.

at a certain point, if he wasn’t high as balls, he’d even wonder himself if he pestered you for thanos’ attention, or actually just to get yours. he’d wonder why he was always so close to you, if he iked seeing you get mad or if he just liked seeing you. if he got a kick out of messing with you—or just being with you.

and then he’d pop one of thanos’ pills and forget the whole thing.

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car au, pt 6

The next part is fighting me a bit, so I will just post this one for now.

Previous

Duke reeeaalllyyy does not get paid enough for this.

Good news, he was able to get the names of the dealers and suppliers and also narrowed down the places of interest to three warehouses. All he had to do was drop that info onto the server for the night crew, and that was that, not his problem anymore.

Bad news, the car is becoming his problem.

When Duke entered the cave, he could see the wheels turning, and not in a sick burnout way Jason does anytime he gets behind the wheel, they were just turning left and right. Then to add more insult to Duke's attempt at ignoring it, the car opened its driver door in what may have been a mockery of a greeting. Honestly, Duke could have also ignored that but then it seemed to fucking Panic and set off its own alarms and proceed to flail all the doors open and reverse to the point that the back wheels made it off the platform and into the gutter that runs though the cave. If Duke was a betting man, and he was, he would bet that whatever possessed or replaced the Batmobile was so incompetent that he had to worry more about Its safety from the Batfam. Whether that was protection from arrest or adoption is still up in the air.

Either way, this is becoming Duke's problem. He is really not paid enough for this. Time to calm down a sentient car.

“Hey, car buddy? You ok?”

Duke wasn't sure what he was expecting when he was talking to a car of all things, but absolute silence wasn’t it. Was this thing going to try to play car now? After everything that just happened? Duke slowly walked up to the driver's side door and looked in for the green blob person, only to see them in the back seat sprawled out. Duke tried to not think too hard while putting the car back in its spot, but the list of facts he has so far kept ticking.

1. The Batmobile has a new passenger or has been replaced

2. The thing/person is not good at hiding, so probably not a villain plot

2a. If it is a villain plot, they got the absolutely wrong person to do it

2aa. Possible meta forced to spy?

3. The person just freaked out so hard they fainted after setting off the Batmobile alarms.

4. Alfred will know what to do right?

5. Try to communicate again with the person in the car.

It didn't take long for the blur on the backseat to shift again. Luckily they didn't immediately jump into the driver's seat, where Duke still sat. Duke turned to look in the backseat, time to start this interrogation.

“Hey, you ok?” Duke was happy that he was able to see the head nod that the fuzzy blur gave.

“That's good. Now, I can't see you too well, but we can work out some basic questions, alright?” Another head nod answered him.

"Are you in danger? Like, did someone force you to do this?” The head shake that was produced shook the car. Duke internally sighed in relief, not a villain plot or meta trafficking gone wrong.

“So this was just an accident, and I am guessing you are now stuck?” Duke knew he was not as good at body language reading as the others, but the wave of embarrassment and resignation this blob was giving off confirmed that whoever/whatever this is, was not a total threat.

Next?

As usual tag list!

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism @atinygracie

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 2

Summary: you realize just how mean Steve can really be.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, dark, stalking, non con/dub con elements, groping, dirty talk, chasing (chase kink), slapping, humiliation, audience, degradation, pussy worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cameras without knowledge, multiple orgasms, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*tattoo edit created by @randomagnes0210

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“What is she doing now?” Bucky takes a long drag of his cigarette, while you obliviously bounce into your bedroom in your panties and oversized shirt. Nothing else. Your nipples are pressing up against white shirt, and Bucky chuckles as you lay down on your belly. “You were looking at her body weren’t you?”

“How do you expect me not to look at her body, your highness?” Your legs bend at the knee as you open up a text book, but your eyes quickly drift over to the bottle of pills before sitting back up to grab one. “She’s got a good set of tits.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Steve growls at him. Bucky knew his place. He’d keep an eye on you, but would never touch. It was par for the course with Bucky. No doubt his friend would watch you take Steve’s cock like a good girl eventually. It was just what had to happen.

“What is she doing? She putting one of those pills in her pretty little mouth?”

“She is,” Bucky tilts his head to the side as you root around in a drawer for something. “She’s looking in a drawer beside her bed, Stevie.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up his phone, and snaps his finger at his driver. He needs to get there quickly. Let Bucky remove his eyes from whatever you were setting yourself up to do.

Stupid girl. Once he has you where he wants you, he’s going to have to talk to you about leaving your blinds and curtains open for any disgusting man to watch you. He’ll hold off for now. The thought of you putting on a show just for him excites him too much to go ahead and let you know this isn’t acceptable.

Pulling into your apartment complex, Steve’s lip curls up in disgust as he walks over to Bucky. “This isn’t good enough. She’s not even on campus. Who is supposed to be watching her?” Bucky turns to look at Steve with a blank face.

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Bucky gives Steve a wink, and turns his back to your window. “She found what she was looking for.”

“What is it?” Steve’s face heats up in anger as he thinks about anything inside of you, but himself.

Bucky rolls his eyes, peeking at his friend. Steve’s jaw is pulsing, waiting on Bucky’s answer that wasn’t coming fast enough. If it wasn’t for you laying a pillow down, and straddling it, Steve would have already been marching into your room. “What the fuck does she have stuffed down her panties?”

“Easy, killer,” Bucky’s voice is so animated that Steve shoots a hard look at him, and then goes back to watching you. Timid. You weren’t even sure what to touch on your body. It made him want you that much more. Sheltered, and probably taught that sex was bad. Steve rolls his eyes thinking about how he was going to have to work so much harder. He loved a challenge.

“It took me awhile to find it,” Steve gives Bucky a mere split second of his attention, because you start to grind down on the pillow, and he sighs. “Don’t get hard standing beside me. This thing is kinda cute, it’s called a Cute Little Fucker.”

Steve finally looks at the picture of your toy that Bucky was able to procure. “That doesn’t go inside of her?” Of course you would pick out this cute little bug looking thing. He was falling even more. Sweet girl needed cute sex toys.

“No. It vibrates, and she grinds over it. Is she grinding yet, buddy?” Steve has to bite his tongue as your body goes on autopilot, and you bite on your lip so your roommate can’t hear your pretty sounds. The roommate…another thing Steve was going to have to deal with.

“What did the other toys look like?” Steve switches from foot to foot. Bucky’s eyes are amazing and he knows that his right hand man saw everything in your treasure chest.. Steve’s cock twitches, becoming too uncomfortable. “Bucky!”

“She only had one other one, and no, it wasn’t a penetrating toy. So unless your pretty little Dovey fucks her fingers, that pussy is indeed ready to mold to your cock.”

Steve grimaces as you halt abruptly. Pulling that green vibe out of your panties and staring at it. It is hardly even wet. Steve knows you can do better than that, he’s made it happen, “She didn’t even allow herself to come. My my, am I going to have to teach her?” It wasn’t even that for you. It was the fact that the stupid toy didn’t feel as good as his leg, and you curse yourself for even thinking that.

Steve was someone you weren’t ever going to see again. You are bound and determined that next semester you don't need Adderall. You’ll make sure to start studying earlier, and not rely on outside sources. And now? When you should be studying you are left wanting more. Imagining those tattooed fingers pumping into you, while you stare down at them.

Steve was dangerous, and bad news. You just had to stay away from him. That’s all. Hearing a knock on the door, you roll your eyes. You had to lock the door because you knew what you were going to need before studying.

Jumping up you unlock the door, and give your roommate a smile, “What the fuck is that?” Steve says too loud as some boy leans against your door. “This is absolutely unacceptable. If he touches her,” he pops his neck, glowering at the man that you share an apartment with. He’ll punish you for this later, but this…it won’t happen.

“Roommate, Jack Benjamin. It’s his junior year at the university. He’s studying law, and keeps his GPA at 3.9. Comes from a rich family. Looks like he pays more than half of the rent and all utilities. Well, daddy pays. Guess that’s why he’s the roommate.”

“I really don’t give a shit. He’s in that apartment with my girl. Get rid of him. I’ll pay for everything,” Steve turns to leave, but Bucky clears his throat. “What?”

“Jackie boy is not interested in your little birdie. In fact, I’d say he’d be more interested in you. So you still want me to kill me, or nah?” He flips his phone around, flashing a picture on his social media of Jack on a date.

“Fine. He can live today. If he touches her…Bucky! I want her unscathed and safe. People saw her with me, saw her juices on my leg. I have enemies, and those enemies would use my Dove to get to me. Make sure that doesn’t happen. And if she fucks herself, I need a phone call. I need to know if she’s riding her pillow, using a toy or her fingers, and I need to know if she says my name. I need to hear when the first time she thinks of me and comes.”

Steve gives you one last look. Watching to see if that boy looks at you or touches you, he doesn’t. He’s safe for today. “Steve?” His eyes don't leave you, but he nods to Bucky, letting him know he heard him. “What are your plans for this sweet Dove?”

“I want to break her and own her. I want her to miss the thought of me not around her, craving me with every fiber of her being, and then I’ll make her my wife. She’s perfect. She just doesn’t realize it yet. Let me know if she wears another skirt again. How much fun it’s going to be with that sweet one, she’s got a bit of a spark to her. She told me no. Have a fun night. Keep me updated, and if she takes another pill, let me know. I won’t have someone addicted to pills. Keep her safe.”

He’s satisfied, for now, with the way Jack didn’t touch you. His eyes didn’t wander over what was his. But when Jack points out that deep red bruise on your neck, you slap your hand over it. It’s too late. You were his, and one day you would realize it.

Why haven’t you left the building?

You glance up from your phone, looking all around you. There wasn’t a prickly feeling of being watching, and your friends had meandered out already. Leaving you to stare at your notes. Having to look back over them, just to see if you had gotten the answers correct on the test.

And now an unknown number was waiting on you. Looking through your planner, you didn’t have a scheduled lunch or anything. You rack your brain trying to think if there was someone that you promised coffee with or anything, but still nothing.

I am waiting, and I don’t like to wait.

Thinking it best to respond, you start typing up something when your phone alerts you of him typing more.

Dovey, if you don’t walk your pretty little ass out here I’m going to be angry.

Don’t defy me, little bird.

You roll your eyes, thinking you have seen the last of him. You didn’t need anymore pills. The last final had been taken, and now you had a bit of a break before next semester. He had to go. You had to tell him his services were no longer needed. But a scene at school is not what you need.

Gathering your things you walk towards the exit, and there he was. Legs spread out wide, his neck dripping in gold and diamonds. Each tattooed finger was enhanced by all the rings. Hearing everyone’s whispers, starts to make you lose a bit of self control, but all it was going to take was a quick talk. And everyone could quit their pointing.

Even though he had a beautiful face, he was dangerous. Sin and mischief seeped out of his pours. He had the air of Satan, and everyone on campus could feel it. They might not know exactly who he was, but they definitely had bought his product.

Standing in front of him, you look down at his eyes. Even standing you still feel small. Wanting to crawl up inside of yourself as your body was screaming out a warning of peril to come. “Steve, you can’t be here.”

“And why not, Dove? I see a few of my distributors here. They see you talking to the monster. Their filthy little eyes are casting up and down your body, and I don’t like it. I have to let them know that you are off limits. You get what you need directly from me. And I will gouge everyone’s eyes out that looks at you!” His voice gets a bit louder, and you put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully calming him.

“People look. It’s not that big of a deal. They,” your words catch in your throat as his eyes roam down the front of your body. Moving with the curves of you. Looking like he is trying to undress you in his mind. Tsking when he gets to your skirt. A big meaty hand slides up your thigh, and under your skirt, lifting it up. You quickly slap his hand away, knowing everybody can see what he’s doing.

“I’ll allow that one time,” my god why was he like this? What did he want, and why wouldn’t he leave you alone? “You make it a habit of wearing pleated skirts? It’s not so different from the first time I saw you.”

“Skirts and dresses are kind of my thing,” you shrug because it wasn’t a big deal, and he was making it one. He could only think of the easy access to you.

Steve’s eyes still roam over your form, itching to lift up your skirt because he needed to know, “What kind of panties do you have on?”

“What the fuck?” You screech, averting your eyes around you. They are still staring at you. Judging you for being around this man.

“Don’t talk with a filthy mouth out in public. Why do I make you so nervous?”

“You don’t,” you try to take a step back, but his hand goes back to your thigh, giving it a squeeze, and pulling you more in between his legs. The legs that you hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past five days.

Looking down at his thigh makes you want to shudder. Remembering euphoria coursing through your blood. Even the humiliation of Bucky watching kind of made it better. “Your pulse is rising. I bet if I cupped your pussy, it would be hot as hell.”

“Don’t you dare! There’s people around,” you press your thighs together, creating at least one barrier between Steve’s mitt sized hand, and your core.

“Didn’t stop you from making a mess on me less than a week ago. Had you whimpering, and leaking your pussy juice all over me. That whole club saw what a sloppy little cunt you had. I think even Bucky got a bit of a hard on. You made me so hard that I stroked my cock for an hour, pretending it was your pussy.”

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to pull his inky hand off you. Your thighs press closer together, and you swish them around. A slight bit of relief, but you are quaking. “I need to go.”

“No. You don’t. You’re finished for the semester. But I will allow you to go with me. Come on,” standing up, he pulls at your hand, and you look around at everyone staring at you. Fingers point, and you hear the whispers start. “Let’s go. Get in the car. I’m going to take you on a field trip.”

“But…what do you want with me?” Steve’s mouth turns up into an evil sneer, and one eyebrow sits high on his head. “I — I thought the payment for the pills was…you know.”

“Go on. Say it. I dare you. Tell me how you coming on my leg was not the best feeling in the world,” you stand in silence staring up at him. You are terrified, but you don’t want to react. He was playing games with you, and making a public scene in your space.

“Tell me how you ride your pillow every night, pretending it's my leg. Whispering my name as you refuse to allow yourself to come. I bet you got so much pent up tension in between your thighs, you can hardly sleep without waking up to your fingers playing with your clit.”

“Stop,” your voice cracks, and you can’t look at him anymore. The vein on your neck is visibly telling Steve just how fast your blood was pumping, but also how hard. What he wouldn’t give to just nibble on that vein. He knows he can make you kneel before him by biting down just a tiny bit. His mark from the weekend is already fading. He’s going to remedy that shortly.

“Dovey, didn’t your mama ever tell you not to get involved with a drug lord? You owe me,” he smiles, still dragging you along after him.

“But…I offered you money. You let me go.”

“You had finals. I couldn't keep you from them. And your money's no good with me.”

“Then what do you want?” He stops his movement, and turns to look at you. A faint glimmer of softness runs through his eyes as he steps right up to you. His hard chest pushes into yours.

The back of his knuckles brush over your cheek so sweetly. Relaxing you ever so slightly when your insides are ready to explode. Ready to burst right out in front of everyone. They are still staring, and you hate him for it. Moving his hand behind your head, his fingers tickle at the nape of your neck. Pulling you forward, and he takes a long, slow inhale before stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

“What?” Whimpering as you lean in closer to him. Your body craves him even though your foggy brain was crying for you to run away. Your body currently desperate for more attention than your brain was able to control.

“I only want you. Now, get in the car. We’re going on a field trip,” your body moves on its own accord as he gives your hand a little tug, leading you to his blacked out SUV, and you crawl into the back seat with him.

“Sam, take us to that playground on the edge of town. The one no one goes to. Tell Bucky to meet us there,” words didn’t make sense as you realize what you’re doing. In a fucking car with a fucking drug lord going to a fucking playground.

He said he wanted you. What did that even mean? He wanted to sacrifice a virgin? He wanted to take from you? Wait a minute…

“How did you know?”

“Hmm?” Steve looks up at you with a crooked grin, reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, starting to look through it. You can’t tell if he’s ignoring you, or continuing to play his games.

“How did you know about the pillow?” He flips his phone around, showing you a video of you grinding on your pillow, and only one word on your lips. Steve. “You bastard!”

He turns up the volume without a response. Panting. Deep, labored moans, and you. Looking so frustrated as you grab out the toy, and toss it on the other side of the room, and then the softest moan of your name, followed by fuck. The camera tilts down enough to see Steve’s cream coat his thick fingers. Fucker was outside your window, masturbating, while you was fucking a pillow. And then had the audacity to show you his cum.

“What is wrong with you?” You don’t want to look at him, so you turn to look out the window. Fucking asshole. He lets out a guttural laugh, scooting over closer to you. You can’t escape him in this car. And every inch of him crowding you makes you feel like you're being squeezed by a boa constrictor.

“You didn’t like seeing what you did to me? Never mind the fact that you're denying yourself release. Seeing you hump that pillow every night was bound to make me hard. If you’re enjoying yourself, why can’t I?”

“Fuck your hand at home. Why are you…” Steve’s fingers dig into your cheeks, twisting your head to look back at him. Giving your cheeks a hard squeeze as his eyes narrow at you.

“I thought I told you not to talk with a filthy mouth.”

“You said in public,” you mumble. Your jaw burns as he squeezes even harder. The pressure drawing a line at being painful.

“What I really meant is do not use that filthy language, unless I’m inside of you.”

“You’ll never be inside me.”

“I won’t? Sam,” his driver reaches to the soundboard on the car, and the entire vehicle is filled with your whispered moans. And the repetition of you whispering his name. Over and over again. Asshole had found a way to get into your bedroom. Anger and embarrassment swirls inside of you. Realizing that he was watching everything you did in your alone time.

“Let’s face it, Dovey, you knew you fucked up by walking into that club. What you didn’t know was that I have a very specific taste, and your cherry is exactly what I want. You can’t even help yourself from envisioning me fucking you. And you better be glad. We’ve got a list. And if your roommate so much as kisses you, you’ll be gifted with his lips on your doorsteps. I don’t share. They can watch, but they’ll never get to touch you. Never even get to taste you unless they’re licking your juices off the floor.”

“What is wrong with you?” The alarms inside your body was ringing so loud, you couldn’t even think. They are begging and pleading for you to get out, but you’re immobile.

“Did your gut tell you not to come to see me?”

“Well, yeah, but….”

“And still you disregarded that voice, and showed up anyways. I’m an obsessive person, Dovey, and I always get what I want. And what I want right now is you,” you feel like teeth of a brutal animal trap has enclosed on you. Painful and scary. Trapped, and feeling like there was no way out.

“You just want to fuck me. Please, don’t…don’t touch me,” you finally feel fear as your body trembles. Flight or fight is a myth. You just quake with raw fear.

“I won’t be splitting your cunt open until you beg me to. Now get out of the fucking car,” struggling to move with how bad you are shaking, you scramble out of the car. Eyes twisting around and looking for a way out.

“Sam’s too fast, and Bucky is faster. You really want to run, Dovey, be my guest. I love going hunting for sweet little birds,” cocky son of a bitch stands there, crossing his arms over his chest, daring you to make a run for it. “I’m a reasonable man. But don’t test me.”

“I’m not begging.”

“You’re not. But I don’t have to stick my cock in your cunt to have some fun. Do go on. Run,” he cackles out a laugh when you sprint towards the woods. You may not get far, but you could hide. Hide long enough for him to leave.

Realizing just how stupid you are when Steve stomps into the woods. He doesn’t even run. While you're bolting, and hiding behind trees, he walks calmly. God, he’s going to kill you. He’s going to pull your panties down, and make you take him in front of Bucky and Sam. He promised he wouldn’t if you weren’t begging. Did he promise? You can’t even remember.

“Dovey, you’re breathing too hard,” his voice is too close. As long as his legs are in two strides he’d only be feet from him. Exhaling slowly, you stand up from your crouched position, and haul ass. Didn’t even care to look back. Just run.

Running through the thick woods and getting pelted in the face with branches is not how you want to spend your evening. You were supposed to go home, and crash on the bed. Finally resting after a week of hardly any sleep.

Twilight begins to turn to dark, and the woods get to where you can’t even see an inch in front of you. If you could you might not have tripped over a fucking limb. Trying to scramble up when a thick hand grabs your ankle. “And that’s about enough of that, little bird.”

Steve pulls you across the forest floor, and right to him. Leaning over you with a devil may care grin, “You can’t escape me. It’ll be in your best interest to remember that. It’ll help you out a lot.”

“What do you want?” You cry as Steve lifts you up, and carries you on his shoulder.

“I thought I made it clear, I want you.”

“I’m not begging, Steve. I’m not begging!” Tears invade your vision, knowing no matter how calm he is that he is pissed that you actually ran. “Steve, please, I’m not…”

“Please can be considered a form of begging. So if you could do my aching cock a favor and stop using it that would be great,” he grunts, readjusting his pants, and you cry harder. “Tears aren’t helping you either. I can’t wait to see your tears when you take my cock.”

“You sick fuck. Why are you — ow!” Screaming as heat radiates on your ass where Steve’s meaty hand slapped you. The sting races right to your core, and that only makes you want to cry more. What was he doing to you? And why did your body like it?

“Can you stop whining before I give you something to cry about?”

“That hurt!” A deep desire to start biting on whatever you could get of his backside comes over you, but that would be a terrible mistake.

“A second one will hurt more. Tell your cunt that’s throbbing on my shoulder how much it hurts. Dovey, I’m not the only sick fuck here. But if you say that word one more time, and my cock isn’t so deep inside of you that you feel it in your throat, you will have hell to pay. Have I made myself clear?”

He’s a sick asshole. Lighting your body on fire in ways that you didn’t think possible, and it thoroughly pisses you off. “Dove! Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, say, ‘Yes, sir,’' he chuckles, and you hate him more. How did you hate him so much, and yet your body yearns for him? You are the one with the brain, and you tell your body that you will never beg for Steve Rogers.

“Stay there,” he says, sitting you on a set of low jungle gym bars. Your feet dangle to the ground, and you give your eyes a moment to look around. Adjusting to the incoming darkness as Sam and Bucky flank either side of you two. “I believe I asked you a question earlier, and not only did you not answer, you denied me a chance to see for myself.”

“And what is that?” Steve’s hand goes up to your face, giving it a little tap as you glare up at him. “What was that for, your majesty?”

“Don’t be cute. I don’t like the attitude. Just because I have added you to my favorites lists doesn’t mean you get to act like a brat. Brats get punished, and next time the slap won’t be that soft.”

“You gonna hit my face like you did my a…butt?” Your mouth is wanting to talk back faster than your brain can compute, and you know that pushing him beyond his limits will only get you in trouble.

“No, you need a good spanking, and that wasn’t even one. You fucking ran from me. Me. Steve Rogers. I have two men with me. Darling, we’re retired military, you can’t escape us. I’m going to ask you one more time, and you better provide a satisfactory answer, or there will be hell to pay.”

The two of you stare at each other, and Steve smirks. You are cute, naive, and just the right amount of stubbornness that he loves. Breaking you is going to be so much more rewarding.

“What kind of panties do you have on?” Your face has to be staring at him with the most disdain that you have ever felt. He is a psycho.

“Why is that your business?” Wrong answer. He gives you another slap to your cheek, but this time there is much more force.

“Dovey, you’re mine. You belong to me. And when you walk around with skirts on around all those boys, you better be wearing the right panties. What do you have on?” Don’t answer. You tilt your chin up to the sky, and Steve has had enough.

Holding onto your legs, he forces you backwards. Leaving you hanging upside down, with your ass out, and panties on full display. Your hands hold firmly onto the bar, in fear of him letting you fall to ground, but the way he was staring hard at your nether regions has your pussy pulsing so hard.

“See. Now this just pisses me off. Do you see this?” He asks, looking at Sam and Bucky. “Do you fucking see this? Your ass is hanging out. Is that what you want? Those little boys to get a glimpse of your ass, and your fucking pussy lips?” Don’t answer. Just hang there. This will all be over soon.

“But do you see that?” You can hear the grin on his lips. Bucky and Sam are too close to you, and all three gaze at your exposed self. “Dovey, you are a sick fuck. You have made a mess of these panties, and we can see your pulse. So tell me how you don’t like this. Clenching around nothing. You wanted attention with these panties, well we’re giving it to you, princess,” his voice gets louder. Or is he getting closer?

“Steve, don’t!” You screech as his finger hooks under the gusset of your panties. The two of you mewl when his finger touches your drenched folds. It was less than a second, but you can feel it throughout your whole body.

“Step…back,” he struggles to get out. Waiting long enough for his men to step aside before exposing your tight little hole. “My God, I believe I see heaven.”

“Steve, stop.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m not begging.”

“And I’m not touching,” you whimper as he bends down closer. His heated breath on your core sends chill bumps all over your body. He inhales deeply, moving over your center, moaning again. “It seriously is heaven. I bet the taste is divine.”

“No!” Your body finally reacts. He is distracted enough that you’re able to drop down, and you scoot back on the ground. “Stop. I wasn’t begging.”

“My tongue licking up your slit, and tasting that delicious honey was not me penetrating you,” you shake your head, unable to look at him anymore. “Fine. Take ‘em off.”

“What?”

“Take the fucking panties off, and get in the goddamn car. I’ll take you home. But…I want a peek of that pussy. No fabric, just the puss.”

“Steve, can you not leave me alone?”

“No. I’m addicted. And you’re my drug. Take off the panties, and hand them to me. When we get in the car, I want to see your pussy that is crying for me. It’s what I deserve. She’s wet for me,” shivers drift through your body as you stare up at him. He was serious.

“And then you’ll leave me alone,” he shakes his head no, and you feel so defeated.

“Sweetheart, we were able to get cameras, and mics in your bedroom, do you not think I could just stare at your pussy while you sleep? Wouldn’t you rather be awake? It’s your fucking choice. But I still want the fucking panties,” he spins on his heels, walking to the car. Pitching a fit, while your brain and cunt are at war with one another.

“He’s meaner than you think,” Bucky warns, walking towards his bike. “I’d do as he says. Steve is more stubborn than you. And either way, he’s not going to stop.”

“He is giving you a choice,” Sam tilts his head towards the vehicle and taps at the gun on his hip. “I’ll give you a moment of privacy.”

Your chest heaves as you look at Sam and then the car. Steve was kind enough to leave the door open, but gave you no choice to retreat. A choice? A choice ot what? Give him your panties so he can gawk at your panties? Or a choice to be punished while he got harder at your paint? You didn’t understand what his game was, or what he even wanted. Besides you, and that would not happen.

“He doesn’t like to wait,” Sam groans at you, and you start to slowly walk to the blacked out SUV. Looking into the car at Steve who is fuming.

“Get in, and take your fucking panties off before I pull them off you myself,” don’t respond. Just do as he says. He doesn’t even look at you, until you close the door to the vehicle.

Lifting your ass off the seat, you slide your panties off, and put the soiled fabric in Steve’s hand and he smirks. His fingers rub over your slick that coats the fabric. Lifting off and strings of your arousal coats his fingers, before starting to pick up your skirt. “You know what else I want. Put your back on the door, and spread your legs. Give me a glimpse of that delectable pussy.”

“Steve, please…”

“Are you begging? You want me to take that cherry right here?” You shake your no. Feeling your lip start to tremble. “Put your back on the door, and lift your fucking skirt. I want to see what is mine.”

“It’s not yours.”

“But you are. She’s part of you, so she is my pussy,” you whisper no, but Steve scoots closer. Grabbing your knee with one hand, and spreading you further apart. His other hand goes under your skirt, and when he comes into contact with your weeping cunt, your eyes flutter. It is like fire on your skin as he roams through your slit.

“Yeah. You’re mine. And so is this,” his hand on your leg pulls you back enough for him to sink one finger down into your core, and your eyes roll in the back of your head. The sweetest little whimpers on your lips. “Oh…Dovey, she is a tight one. You really are a virgin, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah,” you sob. You couldn’t hide the pleasure you were getting from this, and he wasn’t doing much.

“I checked your drawer, I don’t want you to have toys that penetrate you. This hole right here, along with your ass, and your mouth belong to me,” he curls his finger, pumping into you a few times before you grab his wrist. Trying to pull him out from between your legs, but it was like tugging on a tree.

“Why are you denying yourself an orgasm? Even the other night you stopped before you fully came.”

“Steve, it’s too much. Stop stop stop,” pulling his hand out of your center, he brings it up to your lips. Painting your pout with your own juices like it was lipgloss before popping the finger into his mouth.

Moaning at your taste with a delighted grin, “Best thing I’ve put in my mouth. That is before I suck on your clit. Now, lean on the door, and let me see my pussy.”

“Why me?”

“Because I want you. Quit your fucking stalling before I make you ride the whole way to your apartment with three fingers in your cunt,” you couldn’t get out. Steve would assume to just take what he thought was his.

You take a deep calming breath as you spin to the side. Your ass squeaks on the leather from your arousal that had oozed onto the seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t utter not one word until you situate your legs further apart. Lifting up your skirt and Steve just stares. Letting out a deep moan, and you yelp.

“What?”

“Steve…you’re…” it’s the first time you have fully looked upon his manhood. You could see his heartbeat in his pants and his cock begs for something to fuck.

“Yeah, I’m fucking hard as a rock. These pants are uncomfortable. But how can I not get hard staring at that work of art? No, it truly is a slice of heaven. Let me taste you,” you shake your head no, trying to cover yourself back up, but Steve gives your legs a quick pull.

Your head goes back to the seat, and his face hovers right over your wide spread pussy. “Steve, she’s a damn virgin.”

“Oh my god,” you whine as Sam gets into the car.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart. Steve is a horny man, and when he wants you, or wants to just look at you, he will.”

“Shh, I’m staring at the face of God,” your eyes roll in the back of your head with his breath alone. He isn’t even touching you, and you are without a doubt a puddle. One that is dripping onto his expensive leather seats.

“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She won’t let me taste it, Samual. Dovey, just let me have one lick. Just one swipe from the back of your pussy all the way to that cute little button. Oh my god, Dovey, she is throbbing and swollen. She wants me to nibble on her. Can I?”

“No,” you nod your head yes because that sounded amazing. That pesky brain is still trying to save your soul from the devil.

“I don’t really fucking care,” just as he promised his tongue swipes up your slit. Ending at your clit where he kitten licks it. Flicking his tongue up and down before his lips circle around it, and he gives it a gentle suck. When he hears you moan out his name, he sucks harder. Adding a bit of pressure with his teeth, and your body convulses.

Screaming out his name like a cursed prayer. Lifting off the seat. Your legs try to suffocate him, but Steve would gladly die between your thighs. Your fingers try to cling onto every surface to no avail. Seeing stars when he sucks so hard you black out. Your body limp for a few seconds before you sit up in the seat.

Staring down at Steve who was worried about one thing and one thing only, he wanted to kill you on orgasms. Digging his teeth in again, he lightly scrapes down the swollen nub, and you scream out again. Hitting on his back, but it didn’t matter, Steve would have you in whatever way he wanted.

You buck your hips, flailing around, but nothing mattered. Nothing helped. He just wants you to feel blinding pleasure. And you are. Pleasure so deep into your soul that you feel as if you’re floating. The audience of Sam only adds to your pleasure.

It doesn’t matter if you are wiggling in the seat, kicking, hitting or screaming, Steve doesn’t stop. You can’t even breathe, and Steve continues playing with your sensitive bean. And then…he sinks only finger into your cunt, and you start to speak in another language. Taken to another plane of sin.

“She is sensitive, buddy. I guess the last time she got off was your leg,” Sam’s deep brown eyes look into the mirror at his friend. “Steve, you're going to make her pass out. How many times does she need to come?”

His voice steadily gets louder trying to talk over your noises, but Steve can’t listen. He is drowning in your juices. His oasis. Slurping up your leaking pussy, “Steve! That is enough!”

He pulls off your clit with a pop, and wipes your essence off his beard. Staring down at your sprawled out self. Your clit engorged in pleasure, and you panting like a bitch in heat. “Try and tell me no again, Dovey. We’re here. Walk your sloppy little self up to your room. I’ll be waiting to make sure you get home okay.”

“You’re mean,” your voice is weak. Smoky and worn by the amount of times you had came.

“Yeah, and you got off, and enjoyed it. Don’t ignore my calls again. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes…sir,” you straighten yourself out as much as you can, and you hobble into your apartment. Ready to strip out of your clothes, and pass out. Getting to your room, you’re ready to scream.

In the middle of your bed is a mound of new “suitable” panties. There are hundreds of them in all colors, and materials. Looking out your window, you spot him. Pants swollen, as he stands there with an evil grin beside Bucky.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s him. You had a shadow called Bucky who clearly is always around when you’re not with Steve.

I got you a present, Dovey. You’ll find the others are gone. You only get to be a slut with me. Now, I’ll let you put on a fashion show for me. Or let you grind on a pillow again. What do you say?

Walking over to your curtains, you close them. They could stand out there all night, but they weren’t going to watch you.

Good girl

You need a moment. There is anger and frustration drifting into every part of you. Grabbing up a wad of those stupid panties, you sling them to the floor. Over and over again, until your bed is finally clean, and another ping.

I thought you’d like my gift. That hurts you want to just throw them on the floor.

“Stop watching me!” You twist around your room violently trying to locate the cameras and mics.

Quit looking, Dovey. You won’t find them. And if you, I’ll just have them replaced. And I won’t stop. Now get your ass into bed. You’re gonna need the sleep. Now that I’ve tasted you, you’ll never get rid of me. Goodnight, Dovey.

Say it back or I come up there to you.

Goodnight, sir.

Steve smiles, nodding his head at Bucky. “She won’t be masturbating tonight. But, I’ll watch from my phone since she finally closed her curtains. Don’t lose sight of her. I’ve only just begun.”

“You’re so mean,” you whimper, covering your entire body with your blanket. You know you’ll never escape him. And if you do, he’ll just drag you right back to him. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. And you will. You’ll continue to try, and just maybe this little bird will get out of the cage she put herself in.

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[potatomountain]

Two Just For You

Pairing: Song Mingi x afab reader x Christian Yu (DPR Ian)

WC: 5975

AU: non-idol

Genre: fuck buddies to partners. friends to partners.

Warning(s): "cheating", everyone swings all ways. threesome, Dvp. mxm, pet names, some degradation, sub Mingi, switch Christian, switch reader. sex with no barrier (reader is on the pill), Mingi is kind of a jealous toxic dick. big dick Mingi

Summary: Mingi hasn't tried to make things official with you, even after weeks of sleeping together and spending time together. He uses your new friendship with the hottie from the bar, Christian, as the excuse why he hasn't, going so far as fighting with you about it often, until you had enough. You didn't expect Christian to jump to the plate, even offering a relationship you wouldn't dare to think about before. But will it actually work?

Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society

Special tags: This is a belated birthday present for @mingsolo !! This is part two of Just For Tonight which was also written for Isa <3

dividers by: @cafekitsune

Taglist (Form): @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou

“So another fight?” Christian asked with a crooked brow, bringing his cup to his lips as you spilled the tea on your latest fight with Mingi- in which you weren't sure you were dating or just fuck buddies, at least not any more.

You had given him that one chance, and then he occupied your bed any chance you two got. But outside of sex, it was hard to determine your chemistry. Was it just sex? Or did you genuinely like him?

Through the last few weeks you had been updating the man responsible for this on a near daily basis. You even talked about other things, becoming friends and meeting up for the other adult drinks on occasion, like now: coffee.

“Mhmm. Like we aren’t even together and yet we’re fighting?” You sighed, setting the cup down and staring at the liquid inside. “Everything really was fine, until he realized I was talking to you. But I’m not going to budge on that…” Even if it royally sucked.

It had been your first fight, Mingi catching you in a face call with Christian while you were hanging around your apartment. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, Christian was just asking if you two were dating yet since Mingi had slept over for probably the seventh or eighth time. You woke up before him and had been enjoying your coffee, in nothing but Mingi’s shirt, when he had walked in with nothing on himself.

He had started in on you the moment you hung up.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to date him?!”

“I’m not- we’re just friends. I did promise to keep him in the loop. Besides, if not for him you never would have gotten in my bed.”

“So what he’s just waiting around until I fuck up to swoop in? Am I the rebound? The second choice still?”

It was the first time he had raised his voice, but wasn’t the last. Whatever you two had been drastically changed since then, but funnily enough he fucked you every weekend, stayed over and watched movies. Everything was fine normally until your relationship with each other was brought up, or your relationship with Christian. Only one of those you wanted to change.

“I didn’t want to go out dancing last weekend, he did. I didn’t hear from him at all but I ended up going over because I felt bad about the fight you know? And some fucking chick was leaving his apartment when I did. He was right there, standing shirtless in the doorway with hickies on his neck.” Your blood began to boil just remembering the scene so vividly.

Christian’s eyes went wide, hissing as if he was the one in pain. “He didn’t-”

With a solemn nod, you looked up at him. “He did.”

He leaned back in his seat, whistling. “I was wrong about him then, damn. Thought he would be man enough for you.”

“Well we were both wrong. I honestly think this was it. I told him I was done with him. He had the audacity to say I was fucking you so why couldn’t he fuck around? Plus, ‘not like we’re official or anything’.” You felt the burn behind your eyes, knowing tears were going to build up. You had cried then, hit his chest with the bag of breakfast you had brought for him, and told him just what you thought of his words.

Christian waited patiently to hear it, leaning in again, arms folding on the table now.

Letting out a shaky breath, you continued. “I told him I’ve been waiting for him to get his head out of his ass because while I didn’t want to date a guy who wants to dictate my friends, I wanted him. Wanted him to make it official. Wanted to do stupid couple things, and celebrate anniversaries and maybe get a dog together down the line- you know, that stupid stuff. And I've wanted to do it since that first weekend.” You rapidly blinked the tears away.

His hand covered yours on the coffee cup for some silent comfort. “Oh love, he really fucked up.”

“He did. I told him no more. He doesn’t get any more chances. I gave him enough. And I haven’t heard anything from him all week.” It had been an unspoken ritual for him to come over Friday night after you got off work. If he showed up now, you hoped it was to give your spare key back and nothing more.

Silence followed; you wallowed in your own self-pity and Christian thought to himself.

He broke it first. “Do you want me to come over tomorrow night? Or I can swing by Saturday morning?”

“And do what? I’ll probably deep clean my apartment and throw his shit out. Months, Christian. I wasted months on him for an almost relationship and for what? Just to have my heart broken. Fuck, outside of the fights he was-” You pulled your hand away from his. “I loved him. Still fucking do. If he came back crawling and begging right now I’d actually consider it. Just… I was so tired of his jealousy. That was his problem, and it was so shitty of him to expect me to cut you out just because he couldn’t handle it.”

“It wasn’t without reason though.” He mumbled so low you barely heard him.

But you did, shocking you enough your head snapped up to stare at him, mouth agape. “What do you mean?”

His own eyes widened as he shifted uncomfortably. “You weren’t supposed to hear that… shit.”

“Christian, what do you mean?” You leaned forward, brows pushed together in a frown.

You two stared off for a moment before he relented with a sigh. “I pushed you to go after him that night, and I was still an option. Love… I never stopped being an option, at least not from where I was sitting. And he probably knew that. From his perspective, why else would I be sticking around after I told you, literally, if he didn’t work out then I would take you out? On a date no less? Not just a fuck.”

You bit down on your lip, mulling over his words. He was right… but you had been so focused on Mingi and trying to have a relationship with him, you ignored the way Christian made you feel. He was still as attractive as the day you first met him, and now knowing his personality he was very likable.

“But Mingi…”

He smiled at your pout, standing up and leaning over the table. “Love, have I ever told you I swing both ways? You’ve told me enough about him, that if he did get his head out of his ass, I think you could have us both. I am definitely not against it but he’s the issue.”

He was so casual about it, as if pointing out the shade of lipstick you were wearing, or talking about his week, not confessing something that had your stomach in knots.

Yet you still hesitated. “And if he doesn’t get his shit together? If he and I are really done?”

“Then you have a really cool boyfriend who will give you the Princess treatment and still encourage you to ride another man’s dick: especially if they’ll ride mine too.” He kissed your forehead before grabbing your coffee cup and taking it over to the trash. “Think about it. I’ll be over Saturday night and no matter what you choose, I won’t get angry or upset with you. I respect any decision you make, Love.”

This was definitely a turn of events you never expected. Ever.

After parting ways your next work day went by in a daze, opting to invite some friends over Friday night: strictly girl friends.

Course, Wooyoung apparently counted. He even put his hair in pigtails and wore the girliest outfit he had. You protested, but he insisted he was only going to be there to be the driver home for the ladies, and cook.

Apparently he had heard about what happened from Yunho who, unbeknownst to you at the time, had heard your whole argument with Mingi. So in his own way, Wooyoung was trying to be there for you. The bottle of soju and chocolates had been his idea too.

It also didn’t help that aside from your best friend, his girlfriend, you only had two other friends, only one showing up. So bestie being bestie invited the girlfriends of Wooyoung’s friends.

The shit talking that was done after the second bottle of soju was emptied was glorious. Wooyoung looked rather pained, or at least feigned shame, every time he was talked about, but he was immediately reminded of how much he was loved with kisses after. They were good together, you thought, but it also left you a bit jealous.

Of course your own predicament was brought up, but by Yunho’s girlfriend, not Wooyoung like you suspected. So you spilled the details, alcohol contributing to your whole conversation with Christian also being aired. Then, bets placed on if you were going to end up with one boyfriend or two, no one even considering you saying no to Christian which, to be fair, was a safe bet.

“I think you’re going to end up with two.” Wooyoung added last, smirking over his water bottle. “You don’t hang out with us enough to know but most in our group either swing all ways or both ways. You know Seonghwa and Hongjoong are dating and they’ve shared a few girls before. In fact they’ve been seeing the same girl for a few weeks now I think they might invite her in. I didn’t invite her though.”

“Plus I know Mingi likes dick. Yunho’s told me about it.” As soon as Yunho’s girlfriend slipped the words out, she looked apologetic. “Sorry again, I really can’t seem to hold my tongue with alcohol.” Her words were even slurring a bit.

This was even more information you had not expected, just more to think about it seemed.

They left you without a decision but started a group chat because they were now invested in how things went. Over all, it put a lot into perspective, and left you hopeful.

Wooyoung didn’t seem bad, and the girls his friends dated were definitely chill. Sure you preferred to be alone, but if you were going to socialize you liked the idea of doing so with them. And Mingi? Christian?

Maybe it was the alcohol but your dreams were plagued by a scenario with them that had you aching for them both. It wasn’t uncommon for you to dream about Mingi like this, but with Christian in the mix… you were very hopeful.

A girl could dream right? (In this case, literally dream.)

Saturday evening rolled around and your hopes of last night had dwindled to anxious cleaning and worries once more that you had fucked things up beyond repair. You sent a text to Mingi to bring you the apartment key, preferably before seven, as you had company coming over.

You had been left on read, so you had no idea if he was going to stop by or not. The later it got, the more anxious you had become, until six rolled around, then… seven was dangerously close.

“This is it, it’s over.” You mumbled to yourself as you leaned against the back of your couch looking over the somewhat romantic table setting you had worked hard on. While Mingi hadn’t messaged you once, Christian had, talking about this evening and making plans with you.

The two of you decided to cook dinner together, eat, watch a movie and then if you had been comfortable he could stay over or he could head home. Either way, you had told him that you wanted a date before agreeing to anything, so this was it.

And still no Mingi.

Dejectedly you made your way to your bedroom, having done your hair and makeup already but finally slipping into the comfortable but flattering outfit you had picked out. Everything about your appearance was still very homey, comfortable, but with that hint of dressed-to-impress including the lingerie set underneath. One you had bought for Mingi but never got to show him. You had been saving it for when, if, he finally asked to make things official.

A little after seven there was a knock on your door. You knew it was Christian, he had texted you a minute ago that he had arrived and would see you shortly. You tried not to let the disappointment show as you opened the door, still wanting to give the man the attention he deserved.

“Hope you don’t mind, I found a stray outside and thought I’d bring him in.” Christian smiled at you as he drawled in his aussie accent, his presence already easing your nerves a bit. It really was so hard not to like him.

“Stray?” You opened the door further, eyes practically bulging out of your skull as you spotted Mingi standing with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands and a sheepish expression. “Mingi?”

When you looked to Christian for an explanation, he happily supplied one. “He was pacing out front, nearly running when he saw me. I made him talk, we had a heart to heart, and now he’s here to beg your forgiveness. Aren’t you, bub?”

Mingi nodded, appearing much smaller than he actually was next to the man that was physically smaller, but older than him. “I’m sorry Princess I-”

You stopped him by holding a hand up. “Come inside and apologize properly.” You held the door open for them both, more flabbergasted by the whole situation than nervous now. The way Christian handled Mingi was just comedic, especially as the taller man stumbled forward and nearly tripped over his own feet.

“For you.” Mingi squeaked out as he handed you the flowers, then began to take his shoes off at Christian’s instruction. Just what sort of heart to heart did they have?

Both were dressed up, dark button ups and slacks, their hair styled a bit differently than their usual every day. It wasn’t overboard, but definitely gave the vibes of a date. You couldn’t help but think of this as a date with them both, smelling the flowers before making your way over to the kitchen to find a vase. You put these ones on the table as a centerpiece, smiling at the flowers.

“I like them but…” You turned, hands placed on your hips as you narrowed your eyes on Mingi. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven. I’m giving you one last chance.”

“I know. I heard from everyone all week how I fucked up. My own feelings don’t justify how I invalidated yours, over and over again Princess… and I’m sorry. I did something stupid and I really wish I could take it back.” He reluctantly stepped closer, Christian having to nudge him a bit before he went and made himself home in the kitchen.

The ease the tattooed Aussie expressed in your apartment was comforting. He relaxed you, often did or said what you needed to hear. No stress, no contempt, just a solid rock almost. And then there was Mingi, a fiery passion that made you feel alive, and often loved and giddy. Fire and water, and you liked them both. One snuck up on you, the other hit you with a force you had been fighting with since that first night you gave him a chance.

The night you gave them both a chance it seemed.

“But you did it Mingi. You were hypocritical for one, and just an insufferable asshole! I’m not waiting around anymore you understand? I’m not compromising further anymore. I know what I want and if you aren’t willing to do that, to be a part of my life in that way, then you can leave right now. Sorry or not, I-”

“I know.” He suddenly got on his knees before you, head down and arms at his side. “I’m willing to try. Fuck I should’ve been willing from the start. I was so sure you would compare me to him, that you would find him better, and wouldn't want me anymore. I didn’t think to communicate, to really hear what you wanted and not what would make me feel secure. You should never have to sacrifice for me security. I knew that and yet I kept asking. And then I couldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend if I was asking such a shitty thing right?”

You listened to his confession, listened to him ramble, but you could see Christian leaning against the doorway to your kitchen with some snack, popping it in his mouth like popcorn. He could be so unserious sometimes, and it was an effort not to smile at his antics.

“I thought you would pick him if you were given the actual option because hell, I’d pick him over me.” It was Mingi’s red ears that gave away what he truly meant by that.

Oh, he found him attractive. He was probably crushing too.

It was starting to look like Wooyoung was going to win that bet with the others.

“Mingi… I picked you over him. I did. I really fucking did. And you treated me like shit. Now I’m picking him-” You leaned down to grip his chin, pulling his face up when his shoulders had dropped dejectedly, “-and you. If you’ll try.”

His eyes flickered to Christian immediately. “Is he… okay with that?”

“Bub, it was my idea.” He smiled over at the two of you, setting aside the snacks before making his way over. “Why not give it a trial run? See how we work together? The chemistry is there and this might be me being a little impatient but, one night to see how we do? In the bedroom that is.”

You liked that idea far too much to pass it up, and by the glazed look in Mingi’s boba eyes… so did he.

Though you didn't jump right into it, insisting that you do the date part first. So the three of you cooked, the small kitchen feeling much too hot with the three of you. The number of times you felt a hand on you - hip, ass, back, shoulder- had you in need of a cold shower. You didn't even care about how the food tasted at this point, just wanting it done.

The icing on the cake was that Christian was just as touchy with Mingi but more subtle: his hip, back, arms to guide him around. He was finding any excuse to touch you both and Mingi seemed just as affected by it as you were.

While cooking dinner was practically a constant buildup of tension, eating was a bit more relaxing. The conversation was actually on the food, and the surprise that it came out pretty well. Which you suspected was mostly because of Christian as you hadn’t been able to focus. You teased him for it, and that was the first moment you saw him get flustered.

It was almost adorable how much they both got flustered and a little giggly when you would compliment them. You knew of Mingi’s habit before, but the fact Christian wasn’t much different… it put you in quite the teasing mood.

Where Christian would tease, you would tease right back, Mingi becoming a victim of you both especially during the movie. You couldn’t remember what movie it was, Christian on your left and Mingi on your right, dwarfing you on the sofa but it had been their hands that made it hard to focus. Christian had his right arm over the back of the seat, his fingers running up Mingi’s shoulder and neck casually or playing with his hair subtly. His other kept intentionally moving to draw your attention to his lap until you had thrown one leg over his thigh and he was now firmly holding it.

You would tease him by playing with his fingers, slowly inching his hand up your thigh on purpose. All while you had leaned into Mingi a bit, a hand resting on his thigh. You knew Christian’s touches affected him because you could feel his muscles tense up each time, your own teasing touches doing the same to his thighs.

The tension had grown so palpable it was a wonder none of you had snapped already. Just from the teasing, the way you moved your body to expose yourself to them, encouraging them to touch, you were practically begging for it. You didn’t even care about the movie anymore, constantly watching them. Your thoughts wondered how Christian would kiss you, if he would make Mingi watch, or if he would make you watch. The possibilities were endless but you were getting so impatient.

“Fuck this.” He seemed to be even more so, turning to face you more and leaning in to crash his lips to yours. You welcomed him, moving your own eager lips and lifting your hands to his shoulders to pull him closer.

Mingi whined behind you. “Princess-” He shifted behind you so your back was against his firm chest, his hands running over your sides to your stomach.

You let out a soft noise against softer lips at the touch, being sandwiched between them like this making you feel even smaller and much more wet between the thighs. You still weren’t entirely sure how this was going to work, since you’ve never had more than one partner in bed at the time, but the three of you would figure it out.

It didn’t matter if they took turns, at the same time, or with each other… as long as they did it quickly. You could feel how hard Mingi was against your back, his lips now on your neck as he watched the way Christian kissed you. When you did get a moment to breath, it was only because Christian’s lips were now on Mingi, pulling such a whiny moan from the bigger man it had your head spinning.

Wanting a better view, and to get your clothes off because it was far too hot, you pulled yourself off them and the couch. Christian immediately fell forward against Mingi, gripping his neck and pushing him down on the couch.

This was probably the hottest sight you ever had the pleasure to experience; you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it as you pulled your clothes off without a care where they fell… only leaving on the lingerie set.

Mingi caught a glimpse of you, pulling his mouth away to gape with swollen and wet lips from how hard the two had been making out. His eyes were glazed over with that familiar look, you knew he wasn’t going to be in charge of anything today. Perfect really, he looked so good whenever he let you use him to get off.

Christian had also turned when Mingi did, his breath catching in his throat. With a groan he sat back and began unbuttoning his shirt. “You look beautiful, Love. I’m not the only impatient one am I?” He pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside,, exposing tattoos up both arms and down his chest that both you and Mingi were admiring with similar drooling expressions on your face.

He patted Mingi’s thigh as he stood up. “Strip big boy, I want to gawk too.”

The way Mingi scrambled up to get his clothes off as Christian swooped in and picked you up had your giggles turning into a gasp. You could feel how hard he was, your wet panties pressed against his clothed bulge and you couldn’t help but to grind down. The friction had your head falling back, giving access to the attack of love bites he was now pressing against the curve of your neck. He carried you down the hall to your room with a little guidance from Mingi who was now in just his briefs with a noticeable wet spot.

Christian didn’t put you down like you first expected, instead holding you against him while massaging your ass and grinding into you almost like a needy pup. He pulled his lips from the curve of your breast to look at Mingi. “On the bed, naked. Can’t forget you made her cry, that’s not going to fly anymore you understand?”

With heated boba eyes, he nodded. “I won’t. No more jealousy. I’ll make it up to her for the rest of my life if I have to.”

Christian smirked against your shoulder, “that’s what I like to hear.” A moment later he was setting you down on Mingi’s thighs, his cock right in front of you. “But let’s see how you can handle it really. Watch her face as I fuck her? Make her feel good? Just like you have been dreaming about, yeah bub?”

You and Mingi both whined in response.

Without being told, and much too eager for your own good, you leaned forward and lifted your hips. “Please, I don’t want to wait any longer.” After all you had technically been thinking about this since he left you after your coffee meetup.

Glancing over your shoulder, your breath lodged in your throat momentarily at the expression Christian wore: full of impatience, lust, and a bit of disbelief. The impatience won out as he pulled the rest of his clothes off quickly and climbed on the bed, knees on either side of Mingi’s legs but nudging your own further apart until you were pressed against Mingi and could feel his cock against your mound and stomach. “Prep first love, I’m not his size but I don’t want to hurt you for our first time.”

He only pushed your panties aside before pushing in two fingers, pulling your cheek away so he could see your cunt better even knuckle deep. You couldn’t watch well, too focused on the pleasure to keep yourself controted at such an angle and Christian was determined to press all the right buttons.

Mingi wasn’t going to just lay there it seemed, his hands finding your waist as he lifted his hips to grind his cock against you, the fabric of your panties getting pushed up more by his action.

Christian had other ideas, smacking both his hands while his fingers still fucked you with intention of spreading you out. “Aht, bubs, you’re still getting punished.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the center of your back, his cock heavy on the curve of your ass as he did so. “Love, hold his hands down. Don’t have to be too rough, just make sure he doesn’t move. Bubs is going to be a good boy and keep still though, aren’t you?”

You eagerly did as you were told, holding Mingi’s wrists as you pushed your hips back to meet Christian’s hand. Mingi was watching you both with his brows pushed up and pretty thick lips parted, looking so cute. The whole situation was quite hot, yet it still wasn’t enough.

Before you could beg, Christian was pulling his fingers out and leaning over you, tapping Mingi’s lips with them. He didn’t even have to tell Mingi what to do before the man was latching his pretty mouth over the appendages, tongue wrapping around as he sucked them clean. You were so fascinated by the visage that the cock suddenly spreading your hole further took you by surprise.

Christian wasn’t small, you suspected he wasn’t, but it was hard to beat Mingi’s monster cock. That didn’t discourage him, burying himself to the hilt and pressing down on your back to angle you just right that you felt him in all the right spots. A nice little perk was that it pressed your mound harder down on Mingi’s cock, the first thrust Christian gave sliding you up and rubbing your clit against him.

Yes, he wasn’t small but he knew just how to use you.

He kept his hand on the small of your back as he leaned back, holding you there as his hips built up a slow but harsh pace that had you sliding up Mingi’s cock and back down with each thrust. “Feels better than I imagined Love, and your pretty sounds- mmm fucking hell you’re addicting.”

You hadn’t even realized you were moaning and whimpering until he pointed it out, all your focus that wasn’t taken up by his cock had been on keeping your position still.

Mingi’s arms twitched under your hands, soft pants leaving his lips just above your head as you rested it on his chest. You gasped out as your head was suddenly pulled back, your expression on display as Christian had a fistful of your hair, grunting out, “he needs to see you.”

You locked eyes with Mingi, licking your lips at how delicious he looked, but his eyes did flicker back to Christian behind you quite a bit. Oh you wanted to know what sort of expression he made, but the thought was dashed when you felt a second intrusion in your cunt: he was pushing a finger in, stretching you out further even as his cock kept pushing in.

Eyes rolling back, the stimulation of your clit and his cock, had you coming and tightening your walls around him. “Shit, Love, not so tight-” Christian groaned out, hips stuttering in his pace as he tightened his hold on your hair. “Gotta stretch you out.”

“W-what for?” You gasped out, body still reeling from the orgasm and walls fluttering around his cock.

He chuckled, pushing a second finger in once you relaxed once more. “To take us both of course.”

Mingi’s eyes went wide, eyebrows scrunched so far up it was almost comical, but you couldn’t laugh considering you were just as shocked.

“Excuse me?” You gasped out, bouncing on his cock once more as he picked up his pace.

“You heard me love. I want you to take both of our cocks in your sweet cunt. What better way to see if this will work? To show we can really share? Other than by sharing your sweet fucking pussy?” He pulled out slowly with each sentence just to slam in before starting the next, tits bouncing with each thrust and hardened nipples scraping against Mingi’s chest.

“Thought I was getting punished?” Mingi groaned beneath you, clearly trying his best not to move but he was lifting his chest just a bit to feel your tits on you more, his tongue constantly flicking out as he watched them.

Christian let go of your hair to instead grab your throat and you could feel the metal of his rings against your esophagus as he leaned forward. “Have you not yet realized I want you too big boy? And I want to feel that pretty fucking cock rubbing against mine as her delicious cunt squeezes us both so tightly we’re seeing heaven.”

You and Mingi both whined at that, resulting in a chuckle from Christian as he pushed in a third finger and pushed them apart to stretch you out even more. It was a bit uncomfortable, never having been so stretched out before, but you knew this was nothing compared to how they would both feel inside you.

Once the man felt satisfied, he pulled out completely, dropping your neck gently before he flipped you around so your back was against Mingi’s chest. “Hold her legs.”

Mingi complied immediately, his head slotted next to yours as his hands were gripping the back of your knees and holding your legs up and wide.

Christian grinned at the sight, tongue playing with his bottom lip while he took a moment to touch you both. “Such a pretty cock-” He was gripping Mingi’s shaft now, lifting it to line his tip with your cunt you were sure was gaping for them, “-and such a beautiful pussy. Going to look so good, all connected, yeah?”

Meeting Mingi’s eyes, Christian nodded in a silent command before watching Mingi push in, shifting you down his body a little so you could take more of his cock easier. With how stretched out you were, Mingi slipped in so easy but there was still a stretch the deeper he went and it felt amazing. You could never get used to how good he felt inside, each time just as new and exciting as the first.

“I could get used to watching this.” Christian hummed before adjusting himself to crouch on his feet, adjusting himself so that his own cock lined up with your entrance. He braced himself on the back of your thing, guiding his tip in before bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed soft circles as he pushed in, attempting to be gentle as the stretch was now painful. “I know love, but you can take it. You’re such a good girl, I know you can take it. Mmm look at that, halfway in.” He paused, panting.

“So… fucking… tight-” MIngi groaned against your ear, voice gruff from his own pleasure. You knew he was trying to control himself, his grip almost bruising as he watched Christian continue to push in while rubbing your bundle of nerves.

Soon enough they were both balls deep inside you, all three of you panting from the effort as you tried to adjust but they felt so big and you couldn’t stop clenching down around them. Mingi sounded as if he was one thrust away from cumming inside you, and maybe that was all the three of you had.

Christian didn’t stop rubbing your clit, easing away the pain until you were whimpering and grabbing his forearm. “P-please- just fuck me already. Wanna cum with you both. Wanna fill how big I get.” Your other hand pressed down on your lower stomach, and that was the final trigger.

They both began to thrust into you harshly, your cries quickly filling the room as your head fell back. “Oh fuck oh God yes yes please!” quickly became too jumbled up to be decipherable from the intense pleasure they fucked into you.

It was unlike anything you had ever felt, so full, so thoroughly stretched out with every single nerve ending getting rubbed just right that you were on the cusp of soaking all of you.

When Mingi reached up and grabbed the back of Christian’s neck, pulling him down to crush his lips to his own, you hit your release with a silent scream. Your walls pulsated around them both,adding pressure that had them moaning into each other’s mouths until they were filling you up just as you promised.

The three of you were a sweaty, convulsing mess as you rode out your climaxes together, panting in each other’s ears and struggling to remember how your lungs work.

You tapped Christian’s shoulder, turning your head to kiss him, the Mingi, taking turns swapping spit and tongue and watching them do the same until their softening cocks and the leaking cum was becoming uncomfortable.

“S-shower?” You rasped out, gently pushing Mingi’s hands off you so your legs could straight out a bit, pushing Christian off in the process.

“We can.” The aussie grinned as he sat next to you both. “Or we can try a few more dynamics?”

You playfully hit his shoulder, glancing back at Mingi. “We’ll have plenty of time for that, won’t we baby? You did say forever right?”

Mingi blushed a bit but nodded. “Yes… You have us both.”

You licked your lips, cupping both of their cheeks. “Mmm, two of the hottest, most adorable dorks, just for me?”

“Just for you.” They said together, grins almost matching. You could live with that.

| @minheeskitten | @sousydive | @alextheweeb7 | @thesafecafe | @euphoricem

| @meepsters-world | @mysticfire0435 | @yejisuu | @apriecotte | @amphiroxx 

| @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630 | @isiloiale | @plutoneu | @venn-ie

| @therealcuppicake | @lavishloving | @pearltinyy | @vampiregirl215

| @heihaneul | @gugggu6gvai | @oddinaryxfever | @smally97 | @pandagirl-016

| @hecateslittlewitchling | @arinyyy | @lovelgirl22 | @stayatinykatsy | @noone356097 |

@bunnliix | @skteezcursed

[fastboatsmojito]

Inspired by this req !

Hot and Heavy - Gym Nerd! Scott Miller x Reader

| A/N; title based on the song by Lucy Dacus but the song itself is irrelevant to the plot lmao also pls don’t chew gum while you work out this is just Fiction <3

| CW; mostly just some good old bickering in a non-angsty way, Scott being Scott + the tiniest soft spot for you, I think that’s it 💆🏻‍♂️ I was going to make this smutty but it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to force it so !

He was always there by the time you arrived, already sweaty and intense as you walked in.

“Jesus, Scott. You ever sleep?” You scoffed, setting your bag down and stretching your arms.

“Eight hours.” He barely looked up to talk to you, focused on the weights in front of him.

Of course. He was unintentionally irritating, the crisp, clean compression shirt he sported making the size of him just that much more unavoidable. You weren’t competing with him - you couldn’t if you wanted to, but he wasn’t a bad ‘gym buddy’, disregarding his grumpy attitude and refusal to actually call you that.

He never overstepped, he was quiet but reliable, giving you space and unenthusiastically spotting you whenever you asked.

You held your hand out towards him as he walked over and grabbed his bag, rolling his eyes at you before taking out a piece of gum.

“You get one. If you swallow it again that’s on you.” He said, the piece of gum still in his hand pointing at you as he spoke.

“Already cranky, I see.” You snatched the gum out of his hand, grinning at his less than pleased expression.

——

After a while you got a little overzealous with some weights, voice coming out shaky when you realized it was too much for you to lift all the way. “Shit- um, Scott?”

“What?” He didn’t look up at you when he replied. He didn’t usually have to, used to you asking him whatever questions popped up in your head during your workout, gym related or not.

“Can you come grab this for me?” He looked up then, disregarding his strict routine to jog over to you.

“Yeah. Fuck, why’d you add all this shit? You know that’s too much, right?” He lifted it back up for you, as soon as he was in front of you with his hands on his hips you knew you were in for one of his infamous lectures.

“I know now. I thought I could handle it-“ You tried to explain yourself, clearly falling short when he shook his head.

“Don’t be stupid. I won’t be able to workout if I’m too busy worrying about you breaking your neck. If you need help, just ask-“ He reprimanded, putting his hand up to stop you from interrupting him.

“Before it’s too much. That’s the only reason we’re here at the same time.” He always looked like someone’s dad when he got like this, aggressively chewing his gum with a disapproving look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right, I’ll ask for help next time.” You muttered before standing up, motioning to walk off before he stopped you.

“Before-“ He moved to stand in front of you like some angry bouncer, waiting on you to finish his sentence.

“Before it’s too much. I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be smart.” That’s what he always said, you always apologized anyway.

——

You were done after that, uncomfortably dripping sweat from basically every part of your body, walking over to grab your water bottle as you met Scott on the bench. You sat down as he intently watched you trying to massage your leg.

“You hurt your leg, or what?”

“Just a cramp.” You sighed, laying down on the bench instead.

“Come here.” You propped yourself up on your elbows after he said it, confused expression on your face like he just said something insane.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just come here.” He motions for you to move closer to him with his hand, grabbing your leg and placing it in his lap when you were close enough. As soon as his hand moved to your leg you tensed up, unsure of what exactly what you were expecting but surprised nonetheless.

“What’s your problem? Christ just let me massage it out for you, don’t be a brat.” He complained, hands massaging over one of your legs when you relaxed.

“I’m not being a brat, you’re just not exactly the affectionate type.” You winced as he was particularly rougher right where it hurt.

“This isn’t affection, this is you not getting enough calcium and overworking yourself. That’s not on me.” He continued, moving to the other leg when he was pleased with your satiated breathing.

“You know I do this on purpose, right? I choose to do this, even if I’m a dick about it sometimes. I just want you to do it correctly, not get yourself hurt.”

“You’re a dick about it most of the time.” You corrected, sure you heard a light laugh out of him.

“But yeah, I know. Softy.” He rolled his eyes at the unusual nickname, tapping your leg to move it before he stood up.

“Hit the showers, you’re all sweaty.” He cracked his knuckles as he said it before walking away, ignoring your final remark.

“There he is.”

——

[smileysuh]

GyuGyu97 & Hannie : Svt

🌙 starring. Mingyu & Jeonghan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.” The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears. He better not actually be in love with you.

cw/ tw. cam sex, pussy eating, blowjobs, unprotected sex, voyeur!Jeonghan, 3some, spit roasting, cum play, praise, multiple orgasms, cum shot, size kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) baby. (mingyu's) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.9k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. cam room directory here - i'm so in love with this pairing it hurts - this series is covered in audio by the Kpop Pillow Talk podcast, listen here

When - over a glass of soju - you’d accidentally let it slip to your friends in Seventeen that you were considering picking up camgirling again- it had only been natural that a handful of them had become interested.

They’d heard about your cam shows, which had become a well known secret amongst the boy groups of kpop. So the thought that you’d be taking another run at it - knowing that some of your big spenders would likely be too busy to join - had prompted a few of the group members to offer their own support. 

Even though you’d given them all codes to the room, and described that they’d get notifications if you ever did a show- you hadn’t been sure if any of them would approach you one on one to be on cam with you. And on top of that, you’d assumed that for a few of them, their friendships with other regulars in your chat might dissuade them from taking a go at you themselves.

So when you get a text from Mingyu asking if you want to come over because the dorm is empty and he’s lonely… you’re a little surprised that it’s him making a move. 

Some part of you had thought Seungcheol might be the first to message you- as he’s more similar to the general type of guy you go for; confident, dom types. But you suppose you’ve enjoyed a few switchy-type men too- only to find out that being on cam brought out a primal side to them that had surprised even you on a few occasions. 

You wonder what Mingyu will be like… you’ve been wondering for quite some time, and you make your way to the Seventeen dorm adorned in a fresh set of lingerie; expectations high.

Mingyu greets you the way many idols do when you show up to a deserted dorm: he pulls you past the threshold and closes the door before dragging you to his lips.

“Can’t believe you came,” Mingyu says, breaking the kiss much too quickly for your liking. 

“Of course,” you smile, enjoying the way he’s humble, even though he’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever met. “I was a little shocked to get your message but I’m happy I did.”

“Really?” The beautiful idol lights up from the slight praise, and his smile turns him practically ethereal. “I wasn’t sure if I was being too forward-”

“Gyu-” you press a hand to his chest and his heart races under your fingers, “I do cam shows- there’s no such thing as being too forward.” 

“Right-” He swallows thickly, and you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs in that pretty throat of his. “You mentioned starting them up again, and I’ve heard good things about it-”

“You and your 97 line group chat,” you shake your head, embarrassment tickling over your skin- sometimes you hate to be reminded that your supporters talk to their friends. 

In your brief hiatus from cam girling for your idols, you’ve lost some of your easy confidence- you hope Mingyu can help you gain it back.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mingy asks, tugging on your hips to pull you closer to his chest.

“Of course.”

“There are a few guys in the 97 line group chat who are a little in love with you.”

“Just a little?” you tease- knowing immediately that Mingyu’s probably talking about Jaehyun- although, back when you taked to him more, you’d had a pretty good connection with Jungkook too. “Don’t you feel the least bit bad being here with me if your friends are ‘in love’ with me?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Aparently it’s a common thing- you know, Cheol Hyung also talks about you a lot-”

“Not you spilling all the secrets-” you laugh. “You must think you’re going to be impervious to my charms then Gyu- you’re not scared of falling for me too?”

“I mean…” his eyes drift down to your lips, “maybe I will- but isn’t it a cam room rule that if any of us catch feels for you, we should keep it to ourselves?”

“You know- that sounds like a pretty good rule,” you find yourself giggling again, leaning closer to the tallest member of Seventeen, the first who’d had the balls to seak you out for some on-camera fun. “So tell me… how did you end up in the dorms alone tonight?”

“Rolled my ankle in dance practice two hours ago- was sent home to ice it, but look,” he lifts his foot and shakes it slightly, “all better now.”

“So does that mean most of your friends are still at practice?” you cock your head to the side, tracing his pretty features with your eyes, watching the way he nods. “Which means… when we turn on the cam room, they’ll all get a notification in the middle of practice.”

“Not sure if they’re all at practice still-” Mingyu admits. “It goes late sometimes- I know Cheol and Woozi were planning to stay at the studio after practice- then Minghao and Jun are in China till next week- I think most of the others said something about going out for dinner and drinks-”

His words are rushed, and they betray a fact that you’ve not had to frequently contend with during your shows- 

“What you’re saying is-” you clarify, “there’s a possibility someone might come home while we’re on cam.”

“A small possibility.”

“Except- with thirteen members- maybe more so of a probability,” you point out. “Especially if we go on cam together.”

“Are you thinking someone might come home just to catch us?” he asks. 

You offer a shrug. “You know your friends better than I do.” 

“I’ll check the group chat again, let me look,” Mingyu pulls his phone out of his pocket, eyes fixed on the screen as he begins scrolling around. “Okay- I’m pretty sure a bunch of them went for food, Hoshi’s posting stuff about it on weverse.” 

“Honestly-” you reach for the belt of Mingyu’s jeans, tugging him closer, “I think I can make you cum before anyone gets home.”

“You think you can make me cum before anyone gets home?” The tall idol’s brows raise in shock, and he lets out a laugh. “Isn’t the whole show about making you cum?” 

“I mean… yeah but… I don’t know, something about you makes me wanna ride it.” 

Mingyu searches your face for any sign that you’re joking, but when you meet his eyes with a steady gaze he licks his lips, nodding. “Okay- we can do that.”

“We can do a lot of things, most guys like starting a show with eating me out but-”

“We can do that,” Mingyu interrupts you, repeating his earlier sentiment with even more fervor now. 

“So… your room?” 

“This way,” he tells you, grabbing your hand and turning to drag you down the hall. 

His legs are long, and you stumble to keep up with him. You find yourself giggling at the way Mingyu reminds you of an eager puppy, and you’re even more excited to see how things are going to go-

You’ve been with a lot of doms who like to call most of the shots, it will be nice to experience someone who lets you decide on a course of action. He’d jumped at the idea of you riding him, whereas a number of your idol lovers have preferred a position with you on your knees while they fuck you from behind, using your body to cover their own and maintain some of their modesty.

You don’t think Mingyu’s going to have any problems with modesty. 

The tallest member of Seventeen pulls your mouth to his as he closes the door to his bedroom behind you. You enjoy the way you’re having a bit of light foreplay before the camera is on. It’s nice to get to explore him a little- without your thoughts being distracted by a chat and the sound of coins that signify donations.

Mingyu pushes your coat from your shoulders, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer. His tongue glides across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, loving the way he deepens the kiss.

He smells good- it’s a different cologne than you’re used to, but there’s a spice to it that’s drawing you in. 

Mingyu’s fingers slip under your shirt, teasing past your stomach, and you find yourself pulling away, opening your eyes to look up at the pretty man. “We should turn on the camera before you begin to undress me.”

“Right- yeah,” Mingyu nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while blinking down at you. He already looks a little lost, as if kissing you alone has brought him into a daze. 

“You mentioned you have a tripod or a light ring or something-” 

“Uh huh,” the idol lets you go, moving to the desk at the foot of his bed. He opens a drawer and takes out the item you need, setting it up with quick motions while you pull out your phone. “So you just open a cam room-”

“Yup, then people join and watch- there’s a chat function so people can talk while we fuck-”

“Do you read comments?” Mingyu’s watching you carefully now, interest written on his face.

“Sometimes. It depends on who I’m with- like, some people like to read comments while I blow them-”

“What if you hold the phone and read comments while I eat you out?” 

“That’s actually a really good idea-” you cock your head to the side, “and it sounds like you’re okay with having a camera in your face.”

“Well if you’re okay with it, why wouldn’t I be? Isn’t the cam room all about you know… being on cam?”

“You’d be surprised how many guys fuck me from behind and hide their bodies.”

“Not me.”

“I got the feeling you’d be the kind of guy that’s proud of his dick-” you laugh. “It’s big right? Like the rest of you?”

Mingyu grins, tugging you closer again. “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

“Okay, but I’m turning on the cam room.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you laugh, shaking your head a little at Mingyu’s behaviour. 

You open your cam room, directing your phone at the idol’s lower abdomen. “I’m going to give it a sec for some people to join,” you tell him. 

“Can I kiss you for a bit then?” 

You look up from your phone screen, and you find yourself smiling at Mingyu, giving him a curt nod. 

One of his hands reaches out to cup your face, thumb brushing by your cheek bone while his fingers secure your head for him. He leans down to press his lips to your own. 

It’s a soft kiss, and it makes you shiver, reaching with your free hand to grab at the front of his shirt.

Your phone starts to buzz, and you break the kiss to look down, eyes scanning the chat room.

HeyChannie: this better not be happening right now

HeyChannie: we’re literally just about to go on stage

You smile at NCT’s Haechan, he’s always been a bit of a menace. “Maybe this room isn’t for you Hyuck, go on stage and let other new people enjoy the cam show.” 

“Who’s in the room?” Mingyu whispers, lips brushing by your neck while you keep your gaze fixed on your phone, camera still angled at his shirt.

“I gave the cam room link to a bunch of Seventeen members, but it looks like a few ateez guys have entered the chat too-” It’s a little overwhelming to be reading all the new names appearing. 

A couple Ateez members have been present at other cam shows, but since your hiatus, you’ve gained something like 10 new users.

Luckily, most of your idol fans choose names that are fairly straight forward. Cherrycheolie can only be one man, and you suppose Vernon using his birth name Hansoooool isn’t too much of a stretch. Tigerprince feels like Hoshi, and Thegentleman is likely Joshua- KingArthurMin takes a moment for you to figure out as DK, and you find yourself thankful that new Ateez members are going by easy names like Wooyungthug, Yunhoe and Gi. 

Wooyungthug: if all your nct biases are on tour… then whos dick is that

Maybe you shouldn’t have given Wooyoung a cam show link- but to be fair, you enjoy having little shit starters in chat.

“You guys wanna know who I’m with right now?” you ask out loud, bunching your fist tighter into Mingyu’s shirt. “Maybe you should guess.”

Mingyu pulls away from your neck, looking down at you with a curious expression. 

Tigerprince: could be Seungcheol

Tigerprince: he’s in love with you

Cherrycheolie: I’m IN the chat dumbass

KingArthurMin: Wonwoo? 

Wooyungthug: nah guys that dick looks big- has to be Yunho

Yunhoe: I’m also in chat

Yunhoe: dumbass 

“Can I touch you, puppy?” you question, looking up at the man whose ears turn red at the petname.

Wooyungthug: okay, who do we know who gives puppy vibes

Tigerprince: I can be puppy

KingArthurMin: jeno from nct????

Cherrycheolie: thought she said she was done with nct for a while

Thegentleman: done with 127. Could be a dreamie.

Thegentleman: Jeonghan’s not in chat yet

Hansoooool: looks bigger than Jeonghan

Tigerprince: not you being a dick size expert

Hansoooool: I’m just saying the obvious

Cherrycheolie: I thought Jeonghan was getting food with you

Tigerprince: he left a few minutes ago

“Chat thinks you’re Jeonghan, puppy,” you grin, moving your hand down to cup Mingyu’s cock through his jeans. 

“I’m bigger than Jeonghan,” Mingyu states, his voice low. He releases a groan when you squeeze his length, and he reaches for your hips. “I don’t want to wait anymore, wanna eat you out.”

“How could I say no to that?” 

Your response has Mingyu throwing you onto his bed, and you laugh at the way Mingyu occilates between being submissive and dominant. You enjoy the way the camera angle gets messy, a flurry of movements half captured as Mingyu tears your pants off and drags you to the edge of his mattress.

“You should take my panties and keep them for yourself,” you tell him, lifting your hips to help him get your lower half completely naked.

Mingyu groans at your words, and you lift the camera to focus on the idol who shoves your panties in his back pocket before growling “come here” and dragging your pussy to his mouth.

Tigerprince: mINGYU????

Thegentleman: no way

KingArthurMin: SO THIS IS WHAT SPRAINING AN ANKLE GETS YOU?

Tigerprince: uh- NURSE, NURSE I ALSO HAVE AN ISSUE I NEED HELP WITH

Cherrycheolie: is it on your dick

Tigerprince: yeah, I got snake bite and I need the venom sucked out

Hansoooool: lol

Thegentleman: I’m actually shocked that it’s Mingyu

Thegentleman: out of all the people she could choose-

Cherrycheolie: hoshi aren’t u at a restaurant

Tigerprince: this is what bathrooms are for

Wonwho has donated $100

KingArthurMin: right! Donations!

KingArthurMin has donated $100

As the sound of coin donations begins to ding through your phone, you draw your eyes from the screen, looking down at Mingyu as he licks and laps at your pussy.

It feels good- you haven’t been eaten out in a while, and moans of pleasure begin to slip past your lips. 

The idol with his tongue flicking at your clit opens his eyes to look up at you, and you instinctively reach down to run your fingers through his hair, grinding yourself down on him. “Just like that Gyu- you have such a nice mouth- feels amazing.”

You knew Mingyu would be a glutton for praise, and you’re rewarded when he presses his tongue deep into your hole, tasting your inner walls-

When Mingyu groans, you feel it everywhere. The vibration tickles through your pussy, and his nose brushes by your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of his head.

“Fuck- so good, Gyu, so good-” You close your eyes and tilt your head back, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of Mingyu’s tongue as your phone buzzes and dings- 

You’ve never been in a situation where you’re holding the camera. It’s always one of your idol lovers calling the shots - literally - and you find your hand shaking with effort as you hold up your phone, trying to keep it focused on the man eating you out, getting you closer and closer to your high-

“Shit- puppy-” you’re nearly whimpering when his lips suction around your clit, and two digits slip into your wet core, crooking up to massage your gspot- “Yes! Just like that! Just like that! Fuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum on your fingers, please don’t stop-” 

You don’t open your eyes, you’re too close to pay any attention to the cam room. All you can do is give in to the pleasure Mingyu is providing, and not two seconds later, your core is clenching around his fingers as your ograsm takes over.

Loud gasps escape you as Mingyu works you through your release, paying special attention to your clit. He applies even more pressure to your gspot with those expert fingers of his, and you lift your hips in a bid to escape some of the stimulation-

Only for Mingyu to place two large hands on your waist and force you back down. His tongue replaces the space his fingers had just been, pressing into you even as your walls clench around him. When his nose brushes by your clit again, you spasm in his grasp from the sensitivity, releasing a loud gasp as you tug on his hair-

Mingyu finally lets up on you, pulling away from your core to look up at you. 

You watch through your phone as the beautiful man with bedroom eyes licks his lips, groaning at your taste. 

He’s a camera whore- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

“Did you like that?” Mingyu asks, and the grin on his face tells you he already knows the obvious answer.

“Of course I liked it, Gyu,” you let out a small laugh, still recuperating. “Now come kiss me, please.”

You toss your phone to the side in favour of allowing Mingyu to crawl up your body to meet you, your legs wrapping around his hips while his chest presses down against your own. 

He tastes like your pussy, and the dirtyness of it all has you groaning into his mouth, licking and biting at his plump lips-

A knocking sound has you practically jumping out of your skin, heart lurching in your ribcage as you grab onto Mingyu, head whipping towards the closed door. 

“Someone ordered a camera man?!” 

The voice isn’t one you could easily mix up, and it’s Mingyu who lets out a groan. “Jeonghan-” 

“I’m serious, the cam room is just looking at your ceiling- let me in.” The doorknob jiggles, but holds steady, lock remaining in place.

Mingyu looks down at you. “Should we let him in?”

You’ve had two idol threesomes in your life, and the last one hadn’t ended in the best of ways- sure, you’d came like five times, but after it was all said and done, Jinyoung had gone off to film a show and you’d been left wondering if he’d noticed your slight preference for Johnny and ditched you because of it.  

However- looking at this circumstance, with two guys who are your friends but whom you’ve never slept with- can there really be that much jealousy and tension? 

It’s not emotionally charged- in fact, Jeonghan’s down playing it as if you simply need a camera man. 

“I’m okay if he joins-” you reach for your phone, angling it towards the door, “you guys are chill if Hannie joins too, right?”

KingArthurMin: NO WAY

KingArthurMin: YOU’RE LETTING JEONGHAN JOIN?????

TigerPrince: give us all like- 20 minutes and we can be back from the restaurant

Thegentleman: of course it’s going to be jeonghan and mingyu

Tigerprince: this isn’t fair

Mingyu gets off of you, heading to open the door for his friend. 

Jeonghan is grinning at you and the camera a moment later, slipping into the room and locking you all in together. “Hey you two, been having fun?”

“How did you know to leave the restaurant early?” you ask, closing your legs and eying Seventeen’s most mischievous member.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Guess it just seemed obvious to me that if Mingyu was left alone at the dorms, he’d call you over.” 

You find yourself laughing at their relationship. “He’s that predictable to you?”

“Uh huh.” Jeonghan’s grin widens. “So, camera man is here now, I’m ready to get started.” 

Both of them turn to look at you, and with another small chuckle and the shake of your head, you hold out your phone to Jeonghan. “I’m trusting you to get good shots.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan assures you, “I’ve watched lots of porn, baby, I know exactly how to work this. It’s going to be your best cam show yet- or, the best filmed at least.”

“If you do well I might even compensate you,” you tease him, reaching for Mingyu.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan is already stepping closer to the bed, angling your phone to get the best shot possible of Mingyu returning to his position between your thighs, his lips pressing against your neck. “How would you do that?” 

You release a shaky sigh as Mingyu sucks on your sweet spot, grinding himself down against your core. “I’ve been told my mouth feels like heaven.” 

“Fuck, I bet it does,” Jeonghan stifles a small groan. 

“Gyu,” you return your attention to the man on top of you, “I need you naked- we only have so long before more of your massive group of members shows up-”

“Cheol’s threatening to get in a cab right now,” Jeonghan muses, eyes quickly scanning the group chat.

“So I’m going to need you to fuck me sooner rather than later-” you continue, “I don’t know if any of us could survive Cheol or Joshua joining next-”

“No, just us,” Mingyu confirms, sitting up so he can tear his shirt off while your hands go to work on his belt. 

“I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.”

The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears. 

He better not actually be in love with you.

“Puppy-” you draw Mingyu’s attention back to you with the petname, “help me with my shirt?”

He makes it as easy as lifting your arms, and the handsome idol tosses your shirt across the room, pushing you back down onto the bed. His lips brush past your neck and begin to descend, one of his large hands slipping under your back to undo the clasp of your bra-

“We’ve all heard you’ve got pretty tits, baby,” Jeonghan’s voice breifly distracts you, and you turn your head to the side to blink at him- but then Mingyu is tearing your bra off, mouth latching onto your nipple- “Pretty tits confirmed.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little at the dichotomy you’re experiencing. 

Mingyu is completely hot and bothered, massaging your breasts and pressing his thigh up between your legs- Jeonghan, on the other hand, is offering these small comedic relief musings while messing around with your phone camera-

“Gyu-” you run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, tugging him away from your chest, “I wanna ride you now.”

“Fuck- yeah, right-” the idol swallows thickly, and then you’re both rolling, Mingyu manhandling you into the top position. He blinks up at you from where his head is now resting back against the pillows, and even Jeonghan lets out a shaky breath. 

“You look really good on top, baby,” Jeonghan tells you, likely voicing the thoughts of the man still staring up at you in awe. 

“Yeah?” you swivle your hips, resting your hands against Mingyu’s beautiful chest. “Just wait till I start to actually ride him.”

Both men let out small groans, and you lean down to press your lips to Mingyu’s. His fingers dig into your hips, but he allows you to begin kissing down his neck, then chest.

You move down his body, picking up where you’d left off with the waistband of his jeans. 

Mingyu is quick to lift his hips, making it easier for you to tug everything down.

You’re practically drooling when his large, hard cock slaps up against his abdomen. 

Wrapping your hands around his length, you kitten lick at the head before slipping more of him into your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue. 

“Shit- your mouth does feel like heaven,” Mingyu groans above you, reaching down to brush some hair out of your face. 

You can feel Jeonghan getting closer for better shots, and you open your eyes to look up at Mingyu. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with your mouth stuffed, baby,” Jeonghan coos, and in the periphery of your mind you can hear coins signifying donations. 

You suck Mingyu even harder, and he releases a loud moan, hips pushing up and forcing his cock deep into your throat-

“Shit, fuck- need you to ride me-” Mingyu gasps, pulling you off of his cock.

You take a breath, recuperating momentarily before following through with the request. You quickly shimmy up his body, grabbing the base of his length to line up with your entrance before you sit down on his cock, letting it fill you inch by inch. 

“Gyu-” you groan, “so big-” 

“You can take it,” he assures you, the hands on your waist helping you slowly lower yourself until you’re completely seated, stuffed to the brim. “Fuck- yeah, just like that-” 

You lean over Mingyu, palms flat against the bed on either side of his head. When your lips meet, it’s as eager as ever, his hands grabbing at your lower back, fingers smoothing up your spine- 

You lift your hips a little before sinking back onto Mingyu’s cock, and you groan into each others mouths. His hands slip down to your waist again, and he aids you with finding a rhythm.

You know if Mingyu was on top, he’d be going much rougher and faster than you are, but you suppose this is part of the fun of teasing him. He has to take you slowly, has to adjust to a pace you’re dictating. 

With one last small bite to his lower lip, you sit up again, resting your hands flat on his chest as an anchor. You begin to ride him faster, the sound of skin slapping skin getting increasingly noisy.

“Such pretty tits-” Mingyu groans, reaching to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers. 

The sensation makes you shudder, throwing your head back as you ride him, lost in the feeling of his large hands and massive cock- 

“You’re so deep Mingyu- I can feel you everywhere,” you tell him, thighs already straining, muscles tight. 

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s hands glide down to your hips again, and one braces over your abdomen, “feel me here?”

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper, releasing a gasp when he stretches his thumb down to circle your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so tight- so good,” he groans, the hand on your hip urging you to bounce faster on his cock. 

“Can you guys switch to reverse cowgirl?” Jeonghan asks, and his words make you falter. “It would look great on camera.”

“Yeah-” you find yourself agreeing, “give me a sec-” 

Mingyu lets out a frustrated groan as you lift off his cock and adjust, turning around to face the foot of the bed, where Jeonghan is now positioned with your phone in hand. 

You reach below yourself for Mingyu, sinking back down on him-

“What if you just hold yourself there and let him fuck up into you?” Jeonghan suggests. “You were looking a little tired from riding, baby- not used to being on top?”

“No,” you confess, thighs burning as you lift yourself again, giving Mingyu space to latch onto your hips and begin thrusting up into your core. “Fuck- yeah, that feels good-”

“Rub your clit for us?”

Jeonghan truly has all the good ideas today, and the moment you touch your sensitive nub, your skin starts to tingle. A moan slips out of you, and it turns into a whine when Mingyu gives a praticularily rough thrust up into your pussy, hitting a spot deep inside of you that has your toes curling.

“Feels amazing, right?” Jeonghan grins, moving closer to get a good shot of your tight cunt taking all of Mingyu’s cock. 

“Uh huh,” you bite into your lower lip, feeling your orgasm begining to bubble again in the pit of your stomach. 

“Jeonghan-” Mingyu groans from beneath you, “give me the camera- baby, you look so fucking good taking my cock like this-”

The elder man has to get close to you to pass the phone to his friend, and you find yourself looking Jeonghan up and down with the proximity. 

As he moves to pull away, to return to the foot of the bed, you hook a finger in his belt, making him stop, eyes meeting yours.

“I think I need something to suck on,” you tell him.

“Fuck, really?” He swallows thickly. “You sure?” 

“Of course.” You begin to fumble with his pants, and Jeonghan helps you slip them down. You trace the outline of his hard cock straining against his breifs before those too are pushed out of the way.

You grab the base of his length with one hand, the other flat on the bed so you can lean over Mingyu’s knees while wrapping your mouth around Jeonghan’s cock.

Both men let out moans of pleasure, and Mingyu fucks into you even harder, fingers digging into your hip, guiding you to bounce a little on him while he ruts up to meet you.

You enjoy getting lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of Jeonghan’s length hitting the back of your throat- 

“Fuck- so good, baby, so good-” Jeonghan groans above you, grabbing your head to help guide your mouth along his length. 

“Shit-” Mingyu’s hips twitch, “I’m gonna cum soon- Jeonghan, take the camera back.”

You feel the man above you reaching for your phone, but you’re too focused on sucking the soul out of his dick too care, tongue twirling this way and that.

Now that you’ve all found a rhythm, you can let go of the base of Jeonghan’s cock, and your hand returns between your own legs, fingers rubbing your clit. 

You’re as close as Mingyu is, and the sounds of pleasure that both men are making take you even closer to the edge.

“Fuck- so tight, baby, so fucking good for us-” Mingyu grunts, fucking into you even faster. “Want you to cum with me-”

“Rub that pretty clit and cum with Mingyu,” Jeonghan joins in, his words prompting you to apply even more pressure to your sensitive nub.

You moan lewdly around Jeonghan’s cock, and he pulls you off of him so your sounds can fill the whole room as Mingyu fucks you closer and closer-

“Shit, fuck- just like that, just like that-” Mingyu’s voice is getting pitchier, and it adds to his charm, making your pussy clench tightly around him- “Fuck- cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

Jeonghan cups your chin as your pussy explodes around Mingyu, forcing you to look up at him and the camera as your orgasm overtakes you. The angle of your neck makes it impossible to stifle any of your moans, and they loudly tumble past your lips, making your skin tingle with overwhelm.

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, his hips unrelenting as they smack up to meet your own, fingers digging into your skin. 

Jeonghan has his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it as he watches you and his friend come undone. “Fuck, this is so hot-” 

“Hannie-” you moan desperately, “want your cum too-”

“Yeah? Our little cam baby needs more cum? Where do you want it, princess? Face, tongue, chest-”

“On my tits,” you say instinctively. “Please-” 

There’s really only one man you let cum in your mouth- and as much as you like Jeonghan, he’s not the dominant you usually get on your knees for. 

You straighten on top of Mingyu’s cock, grabbing both of your boobs to press them together, giving Jeonghan an ample target as he works harder on himself, the camera shaking in his hand to capture everything-

“Fuck, okay- I’m almost there-” Jeonghan grunts, closing his eyes and throwing his head back-

Ropes of hot, white, sticky cum are coating your breasts a moment later, and Mingyu slows his thrusts, finishing his orgasm and allowing you to stay a steady target for his friend.

“So good, Hannie-” you whisper, which only makes Jeonghan groan louder, head lolling forward so he can watch you as he finishes, pumping slower on his cock-

“Fuck, baby- shit, you look amazing-” he tells you, letting out a gasp as his orgasm subsides. 

“Thanks for the cum, guys,” you breathe, trying to ground yourself even as you’re still seated on Mingyu’s cock. 

“You’re something else,” Jeonghan groans, reaching down to grasp the bottom of your chin, forcing the camera close to your face before letting it dip to show off the mess he’s made on your chest. 

“I’m your cam baby,” you tell him happily, and you’re rewarded by the sounds your phone makes- chat notifications and coin donations. 

“I guess you should say goodbye to the cam room?” Jeonghan suggests.

“Goodbye cam room, thanks for watching,” you smile, focusing on the camera until Jeonghan’s ended the live and tossed your phone onto the bed.

“What now?” Mingyu asks behind you.

“Now, I go have a shower and wash all this stuff off-” you explain, “and when I’m done, I’m guessing a few more members will be kicking around.”

“Hoshi’s gonna want to bang you, you know,” Jeonghan muses with a mischievous grin.

“He can wait,” you say simply, lifting yourself off of Mingyu’s cock. “I’m actually more worried about Cheol ditching the studio early to come back here and see me.”

“Do you have a thing for Cheol, princess?” Jeonghan asks, reaching out a hand to help you get to your feet next to the bed.

“I have a thing for soft daddy doms,” you admit. “Cheol gives off vibes that I think I could work well with.”

“And we don’t?” Mingyu jokes, but there’s something beneath the jovial tone.

“Don’t be getting all jealous and possessive now, Gyu,” you remind him with a laugh. “That usually doesn’t work well for anyone.” 

Sometimes you hate putting up this emotional wall- but someone has to. You have to protect yourself while doing this- these idol cam shows can be deadly if you’re not careful, and you’re not the type to go looking for a broken heart. 

Interact with those who've cum before

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[elizzsush]

Escape Reality | Part 0

PAIRINGS: Batfam X Reader (platonic), Jason Todd X Reader (romantic)

—Why did you choose to get a dog? And why did you choose to walk him before the beginning of a storm? Well… you can’t say you regret it.

AU/Trope: Isekai

Rating: SFW (as always)

❥ [Part 0] - [Part 1] (not yet out)

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A/Note: Heavily inspired by the amazing and incredible @daydreams-to-passages ! They wrote something I hadn’t even thought of which evolved into this fic! I really just expanded on their ideas so this is like 70% them! This is a little short but it's really just a prologue.

Oh, and lastly: if you know me IRL no you fucking don’t!

________________________________

When you got a dog… well, every dog owner knows the joys of walking their perfectly well behaved dog. It's sometimes the best thing in the world! If you were to pick up into a light jog, your puppies ears would flap up and down- his fur blowing back as a nice breeze and cool weather egg you on for more of that same old walking.

But no, when you got a dog… well let’s just say you weren’t prepared to actually own a dog. You had just moved to New York, into a shitty cramped apartment, and you were lonely and depressed and what’s a good fix for all that? Getting a dog! A larger then a corgi sized dog. Weighing in at around 50 pounds was your new pride and joy! Your new terror and the reason why you now stay up later thinking “why the hell did I get a dog when I can’t afford my own food?” You made a choice and now your life was unraveling around you because of said choice.

But… you also felt guilty. It wasn’t erm… “Fido”’s choice to live with you. So you’d buy his food before your own just to make sure you can afford his, and you’d try and take him on walks every single day. Because, that small crappy apartment is doing nothing for “Buddy”…?

So yes, walking a dog is so relaxing and fun! If you can afford to take the time or buy training classes where they teach him how to… walk on a leash.

BARK BARK BARK!!

“The pigeons are gone, dude!” You huff and tug him away from the side of the sidewalk- across you was the park, where a lovely old women was feeding birds. Keyword: was. You dog… “bear”, was so unstimulated and just badly behaved… it often left you so very embarrassed and put out. So even after “Baxter” started his walk on again- satisfied with his bird scaring talents, he still tugged forward because you were apparently too slow by his standards. So, walking “Max” was great! Amazing even. What wasn’t great was… well you had hoped you’d be home by now, you had read the weather was getting cloudier but hey- a little water never hurt anyone?

Except everyone on the titanic.

The worst part? The damn dog was loving every bit of the rain, he even sat his ass down to chop on the rain above him!! Everyday you were a little more convinced he hated you… just when things couldn’t have been worse, a stupid DUMB cat appeared! It ran right in front of you and “buster” into an alley!

Listen, you had calmed down on the leash tugging since the damn dog sat down- you didn’t expect a cat! So yes, Mr “Duke” got away from you… THE FUCKING DOG GOT AWAY FROM YOU. You gave chase after a cat and a dog… no you’ll totally win this race!

And if you couldn’t have been miserable enough, you hit a fucking brick wall…

But… hey wait, you could have sworn you dog and that cat went this way…

Your nose was bleeding, you had checked it with your hand… and now you were blacking out. Thunder struck and that was the last thing you saw…

Then you died, much like the second robin did.

Actually, he died pretty heroically and was murdered by a super villain. You ran into a wall.

You also didn't die.

"What the actual fuck." You whined as you sat up and held you head. Great, now you had a headache on top of this rain... You were in an alleyway still. Sadly, that didn't change since you passed out. But for some reason it felt... colder? The whole neighbor streets turned dark and cold you realized once you stood up walked around. Everything just looked duller, less color, it felt like an invisible fog laid across the streets. The rain picked up harder, like some God or deity was trying to wash the city away. The building had turned to cool greys and blacks with pops of graffiti in the long narrow alleys. "What the actual fuck?" You spun around to look at more of... where you supposedly lived, trying to figure out what just happened.

In the distance, you can hear erm... your dog barking. Panic swelled in your chest like an ugly bruise. Darting towards the sound you calmed down slightly when you saw your dog sat nicely staring at a man. A man who was eating a hot dog in the pouring rain...

"No can't have my chili dog," scolded a black-haired stranger as you finally see your beloved dog. Both of them were standing under something, protecting the male from the rain while your poor pouch was already a wet dog. Just when the stranger was about to cave to your dog's whims and argumentative barks you shouted out.

"Dog," You yelled out and the pup's ears perked up. still, you pup was still for once in his life and not causing... too much trouble. His attention was now on you, but he still didn't move away from the man with food.

This action- or lack of action made you sigh. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notice the complete lack of people nearby.

"Dog, what does it not got a man?" The man asked absentmindedly, like he was more talking to himself then he was to you. Thankfully you had just closed the gap between the two of you when he said it, so you didn't miss his words.

Admittedly, you didn't give your dog a name... Nothing seemed to stick out or fit. "No- His name is uh... Dog..." You tried to defend yourself against the- on second glance- attractive male.

"You named your dog... Dog?" He raised an eyebrow, and you shrunk in a little more on yourself.

"Erm... Yes?" You doubled down...

"Okay," He accepted it with a little blink, and you'll miss it eyeroll. "Does Dog know any tricks?" He asked as he finished his hotdog and knelt down to pet... Dog.

You blushed a bit because... You hadn't taught Dog any tricks yet. You had gotten him a months ago, so he was still a somewhat fresh face... "He knows sit." He knows the basics of sit; his success rate with that trick was 30%, this stranger didn't need to know that though.

The stranger hummed like he didn't believe you. He shouldn't have but you still felt offended.

Wait, this guy looked a lot like... It was the black hair with a little white streak in it really, it reminded you so strongly of the second robin even to his leather jacket.

"Are you cosplaying," came out of your mouth before you could even think about the words properly. With a hand now smacked onto your mouth you looked away from the man with a hint of humiliation at his confused expression. "I mean- You'd make a really good Jason." You corrected only to see the male give a more... curious look.

"Todd, from DC," You added, hoping to clear away his curiosity. "Jason todd..." You added more when you realized this was probably getting nowhere, and you weren't in a place mentally to describe the whole robin situation- nor would he probably care enough...

"DC? Do you mean WE?" The male corrected with a hint of a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. "He's that guy's son, right? Before he died."

You couldn't help but frown. "Well yeah- I mean he came back... Are we talking about the same thing?" You sighed, looking at you pup now. You should really just take him home- cut the walk short. Just when you thought of that however, the stranger seemed to find that perfect spot behind Dog's ear and he leaned more into the Ex-Robin look-a-likes hand,

"He came back?" The male questioned; you just shook your head. You had gotten into a DC rant one to many times to get into one now, in the middle of pouring rain. While you sighed to yourself about that, you missed his suspicious looked and the way he began to eye you...

"What's WE?" You asked instead.

That was when he looked at you as if you didn't know anything. "You don't know Wayne Enterprises?"