#when I imagine them their faces just look like the way I draw faces: ( ' _ ' )

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

too obsessed with this series to stop (i also think it's so hilarious this started as a oneshot request 😭) ur brain just couldn't stop ⬇️

It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

GIGI WROTE HER FOR ME

There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

god i love ur writing i swear this fic gets better with a new update

“They chew up people like you.” “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

oooo reader 1: rafe 0 she ate him up

"Change of plans."Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space. 

why was this so clever (also rafe's obsession w locking people in rooms 😭)

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him. Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before dashing out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

i honestly would've sat in my room n draw or smth

Were you getting mugged?

with no money 😭

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

hes so kinky (do it)

“Show me.”“Uh?”He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

i just realized why ur writing is so magnetic; it's because u write almost like a screenplay, like i can visually see all of ur scenes played out on a show or a movie or something; especially your dialogues like it belongs in hollywood

“Atta girl.”

pls sir, just one chance 🛐

“They’re about you.”"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."Your brows pulled together, “What is?”He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

oh my GODDDD

These were dangerous waters. If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

im giggling so hard rn

“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

he's so whiny i love him

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

i'm so quiet during this smut scene bc im enjoying it too much

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

he's so hot ohmyfuckinggod

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

back to our regular scheduled program: emotions

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."“But it’s wrong.”“I know, pretty.”

they r so enemies to lovers u did this so well

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”“Promise?”He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.“Promise.”

i love them so much i could cry

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

FINAL THOUGHTS | god this smut scene was TOO good i gotta say ur best work to DATE 🤭 okay, okay, but onto the real business. i think what i love about this part (i think this has to be my favorite part by far) is that, like i said, ur writing plays out like a movie. the way you describe things with such beautiful prose and the way their dialogues bounce off each other. i always compliment your dialogues because it's so true, i am in absolute love with the way it feels so rich and organic and unpredictable (not in a bad way). like there's a conventional storytelling to certain scenes/dialogues but you always manage to surpass expectations and make it innovative and engaging! i fucking love how you build the intimacy through rafe and reader through touch and little acts where you have to read between the lines to understand. and when i get them? 🫠 reader is so independent and stands on her own shit which i love and it reminds me a little too much like me (who said that) but overall, for this specific part, i was obsessed with their banter during the gun scene, and during the smut (of course) but just truly, the way you WRITE it's so so incredible. i'm trying to find better words to explain myself. i love how rafe was yearning for her so badly during the smut, but he backed off bc she said so, and kept asking for clarity and she gave it. it gave me butterflies fr (u saw how quiet i was during that whole scene i barely annotated) and i love the way he kept praising her (blushing fr 🥰) because ur dirty talk is TOP TIER!!! and lastly lastly, the way their fears is embedded in things changing and how they have to confront this new reality of them falling for each other 💘

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin. With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself. While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages. You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into this situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible. It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group. Kie, Pope, John B…They weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a delicate balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence. You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in a turbulent life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst. It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity. While others your age worried about trivial matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending storm in his eyes. You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, and for a moment, he looked like he might’ve backed down. But then his expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," he said, his tone condescending. "You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too,” you said, your voice low and steady. "And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

The defiance in your fixed look mirrored his own stubbornness. Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that. For a moment it looked like he might’ve argued. And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, fury and panic mixing in your chest. "Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no response from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing. He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different. Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, its frame sturdy and dependable.

That’s it! You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances. Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was sturdy enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building, the ground looming ever closer with each passing moment. 

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, your voice urgent, “It’s important.”

After a moment of hesitation, he relented, quickly scribbling down an address on a piece of paper and thrusting it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him. Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before dashing out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand, a feeling of unease gnawing at the pit of your stomach. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline surging in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shout, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a brief moment. You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, his agitation palpable in the confined space of the alley. “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp, his frustration evident. “You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm, his touch firm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden shifts in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

You only gaped in disbelief. “What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, his tone firm, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at Rafe’s chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe said, nodding in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained steady, unwavering. Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, now? “I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him. You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded, his voice softening slightly as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, the weight of what just transpired settling heavily on your shoulders, as you and Rafe sat in silence, the events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly; his expression unreadable. "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“Hey, look at me,” he said, voice weirdly soft, “We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere. There were more important matters at hand. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream. You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe. The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt, a stark contrast to the chaos that seemed to constantly surround him.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t. You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you. It was a lot to process, the realization that you had become a part of his nightmares, a constant haunting presence in his thoughts. Rafe’s fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and a rush of memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. But as it lingered, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, like a balm soothing an old wound. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up. It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

Once again, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions coursing between you. Guilt, fear, desire, all intertwined in a tumultuous dance within your heart.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you felt deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. And you melted into his embrace, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead. All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. 

But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the beating of your heart.

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering like a promise of things left unsaid.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee. When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead. Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Rafe's hand tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again, “Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him, face twisting into confusion.

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you shifted, turning onto your side to face away from him.

Rafe moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like a shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters. If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

Your pulse quickened, and your skin tingled. An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you shifted again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with purpose, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head. Rafe's response was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches that sent shivers down your spine. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling over you. The uncertainty, the fear, and the desire all came down together in a chaotic swirl. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted. You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire coursing through your veins.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit. You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss. You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts blurring as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Rafe's breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised, his voice a rough whisper. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your core. Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he gently withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky and all rough against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven. The friction was maddening, each movement sending volumes of satisfaction through you.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he struggled for control. “You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much to bear. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again rapidly. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so close. His hand on your clit moved in time with his hips, each touch sending you spiraling higher.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan in response, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You trying to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix. Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn of desire ignited into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole. The taste of him filled your mouth, a heady mixture of the cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours. The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Cum for me, pretty,” he urged his voice rough and filled with need. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

That was all it took. With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe and desire, his hands never leaving your body, grounding you through your orgasm. As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips soft and tender. He murmured soothing words, his voice a sexy whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own racing pulse, a reminder of the connection between you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the waves subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, "I want to feel you cum inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass, "Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open, dark and intense as he watched your reaction. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel you cum."

The pet name did it. His response was immediate. With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he drove into you with a powerful thrust. His pace was relentless, his movements fueled by a desperate need to reach his release. His face was a mask of intense concentration, his jaw clenched as he pounded into you. The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, creating a symphony of raw passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Cum for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising. And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. your own body still buzzing with the aftermath of your pleasure. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that rendered you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his touch kind and reverent.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as Rafe's lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss a stark contrast to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but the dam broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed his voice a comforting balm to your frayed nerves. "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the gentle strength of his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you didn’t feel so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else. He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up fear and anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering in a gesture of reassurance. "I know, Maybank," he whispered, his voice steady and unwavering. "I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?" you asked, almost in disbelief.

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. The comfort of his embrace, his steady presence, was grounding you. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you strength. After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[lunarharp]

offloads scribbly stuff

[spitinsideme]

the most romantoc thing youcan do is slowly take off your wifes dress and admire the scars she has actually

[aq-s74]

(WIP post)

these are basically just references (for future-me to one day learn how to draw at least a bit more realistic 😔)

B²TSM Disillusioned AU Faceclaims List

(character descriptions do not necessarily align with model's gender/race/nationality/etc.)

Juhan

Description: medium/long hair, fat/plus-size, Black, male

Ludwig

Description: curly short hair (mullet?), Brown, Hispanic

Peter

Description: straight/wavy short hair, Biracial (Asian, White), male

Eddy 🍊

Dimitri

Description: straight (sometimes fluffy) short hair, Asian, Latine

Brett 🐑

Min Yoon-gi (Suga) from BTS

Lee Ji-hoon (Woozi) from Seventeen

Amadeus

androgynous look, white/pink/light-colored fluffy long hair (usually in a ponytail), Asian

Kento Yamazaki

Jae-young Park

Nícolas

semi-androgynous look, curly/wavy long hair, tan, Latino

[steampunk-raven]

drawing oki shaperaverse rn and he looks like a freaking Mario character 😭😭😭

[marcmorrigan]

im not gonna make this rebloggable bc its just two unrelated drawings slapped together in layout but like. i put them next to each other to play compare & contrast and ended up HURTING MY OWN FEELINGS... beyond looks even more in love when hes next to L ouch ouch ouch

[angelamontoo]

I've decided Ugarte originally adopted Junior to sniff out truffles

Hes good at finding truffles, but it's also hard to stop him from eating them. Not that Ugarte tries very hard to prevent him

[k-hotchoisan]

backseat serenade

<mingi x fem!reader>

Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi

word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)

a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921

networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

“Who else is here?” You ask. 

She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 

And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 

“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 

You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”

“That’s-“

“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 

“You know him?”

“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 

He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.

You blink. The fuck?

And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 

It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.

You decide to find your friend and call it a night.

“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 

“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 

You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 

You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 

You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 

But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 

“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 

“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 

“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 

“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”

Right. You nod in defeat. 

Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs. 

His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 

“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”

You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 

Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 

The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 

Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 

Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 

“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 

You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 

And you wonder how far you should take this. 

Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 

The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 

Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 

His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”

You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 

You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 

You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.

“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”

You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 

Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 

His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 

Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 

You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 

His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 

You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 

Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  

“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 

“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 

“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”

His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 

But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 

His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 

“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 

The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.

“Y/n!”

Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 

“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 

“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 

And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 

Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 

You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 

You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 

And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 

“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 

“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 

Mingi pauses, staying near the door.

“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 

His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 

“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 

For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 

His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 

You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 

His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 

His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 

“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”

Oh, fucking gods. 

“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 

You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 

Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 

It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 

So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 

His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 

“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 

“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 

And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 

You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 

You sure know how to push his buttons. 

He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 

“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 

You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 

“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 

“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“

Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 

“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 

Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 

“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 

But he pulls you along with him. 

“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[horsefigureoftheday]

Can you explain the "breyer horses are stylised" thing you said a while back? Not because I don't believe you but because I don't know enough about horses to see it (besides the mane and tail)

All artistic representations of a horse will be somewhat stylized. Humans can't help it, they imagine details, even when referencing photos or live animals. A swayed back gets exaggerated, sickle hocks are overlooked, the face becomes more expressive, because to a human who loves a horse, and who expresses their own emotions with their face, the horse's face just feels more expressive.

Take a look at this horse from Peter Paul Rubens' "Wolf and Fox Hunt" (1616) and how it compares to a photo of a horse

The artist was clearly familiar with horses, and most likely referenced off a live horse. And yet its face is much more expressive than a real horse's face - it's neotenous and borderline anthropomorphic, with its huge sorrowful eyes, and the short muzzle that puts the mouth in closer proximity to its eyes (making its expression more readable).

I think a lot of people see what they want to see when they look at a horse, and they reflect that in their art. Is the horse an independent agent or a tool of its rider? Is the horse an unthinking animal or a soulful creature like yourself? Does the artist admire animals, in spite of painting them in terrible war-like scenarios? Does the artist paint animals in these scenarios because he admires them? Is the horse meant to elevate the status of its rider, by being depicted as a soulful creature that nonetheless submits to its rider? (You can probably guess my own opinion from these questions)

Earlier art saw horses almost an afterthought, depicted from memory while their rider was drawn reverently. All those art pieces of emperors and kings on horseback, where the horse looks like a cartoonish oaf, use the horse as a symbol of power, with no regard for the animal itself. Even when the horse is beautifully rendered, it's nothing more than a vehicle to carry its rider. The artist has depicted the horse as expressionless, beastly, and soulless.

Even when you get into portraits of horses in the 17-/1800s, they are still stylized, though now you're just as likely to see a lithe and graceful companion, as you are a muscled working horse or a faithful old friend. Horse breeding really took off around this time, as did theories of animal minds, so adoration of horses-as-individuals became more widespread. Examples are "Lustre" (1762) by George Stubbs, "Mare and Foal in a Stable" (1854) by John Frederick Herring Senior, and "A Grey Horse in a Field" (1873) by Rosa Bonheur.

All this is to say that horses will always be stylized in art. Humans can't not twist the horse the suit their own tastes, and that's fine. I actually think it's kinda beautiful. The way horses are stylized can give you insight into the artist's opinion of horses. An artist with a neotenic, expressive stylization probably has more respect for horses-as-individuals than an artist who depicts them as inexpressive, powerful, willing beasts of burden.

Breyer horses have an airy painterly quality to them. Even the draft horses seem almost weightless. Compare Breyer's "George" with the self-released resin horse "Gustav," both sculpted by Brigitte Eberl.

George has much longer hooves and smoother curves in his legs - you could draw a near perfect curve from his hind knee to his toe -, giving him a flowing appearance with very little weight behind it. Gustav, on the other hand, has sharp edges and corners. He feels heavy. I'm a big fan of wrinkles and muscle on model horses, but the muscles on George seem like he's been through a rock tumbler. They're smooth and soft-looking, except for the extremely deep crevices between them, which are probably there to better catch paint and enhance the shading (an effect that's especially noticeable on George's thigh). Gustav, on the other hand, has very subtle muscling and virtually no wrinkles (he deserves neck wrinkles, give my boy neck wrinkles!!). He looks like a working horse with a solid layer of fat over his muscles. George's stylization is, for lack of a better word, smooth. Flawless. A bit too perfect for my liking. George is like the platonic ideal of a visually appealing draft horse. A horse like him can't exist.

I think resin horses by master craftsmen are the closest we'll get to depicting horses exactly as they are in life. The stylistic choices are extremely subtle, and seem more like a consequence of the medium than a deliberate goal on the artist's part (e.g., you can't make a realistic mane out of resin, so you have to compromise).

I love both the stylistic trappings that humans fall into when depicting horses and the endless quest for the perfect artistic representation of the horse. Both are beautiful. All horse art is beautiful.

(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not an art historian or anthropologist, I literally studied bugs at university, so if you think I'm talking out of my ass you are MORE than welcome to add to this post!)

[hypewinter]

Hear me out! Danny finds his human form slowly getting more eldrich as he gets older (and more powerful) and ends up going to Gotham where people are way less likely to ask questions!

Sadly when the people of Gotham see Danny, oops my shadow has eyes now, Fenton they just assume he's gonna be a new Rouge!

Que the bat fam watching Danny waiting for him to make his move, over-analyzing everything he does. Mans can't even buy a new laptop without Bruce breathing down his neck about it

This would be an issue if Danny wasn't such a little troll, and he starts buying more obviously ominous things only to openly use them in improperly boring and normal ways. Like buys a death lazer and can be seen using it to make toast, buys a cursed box full of death themed artifacts and uses it as a coffee table, that kinda stuff.

Every time the bat's assume 'this is it!' And gets ready to take him down, only to see Danny setting up a new 'coat rack' made of kriptonite

Even better when they see him tinkering on some kind of doomsday device, the kind that looks super evil and dangerous and even has a red count down timer on the front and- it's a fucking air frier again! He already has three! Why does he keep making air friers?! Obviously this must be some kind of scheme

I raise you: Danny starts selling his things out to random citizens (they've all been intensely screened). The bats panic thinking this is an attempt to cripple Gotham in one fell swoop. Nope. Ms. Randall just really needed a new air purifier and Danny had a toxin dispenser that was just collecting dust.

I imagine though that he might start to notice that the bats are focusing on him a little too much which is a problem considering there are things going down in Gotham that actually need their attention. But at the same time, our resident ghost boy isn't ready to stop being a menace just yet. So what does he do? Kill too birds with one stone.

Whenever Danny catches wind of a new plot going down, he does something to draw the bats's attention to it. Two Face planning a robbery? Suddenly Danny is showing up to the bank everyday to work on the vault (he offered to reinforce it for free). The bats get so suspicious they focus hard on the bank and discover Two Face's plot before he can do anything.

The bats pat themselves on the back while Danny giggles in the background. Wonder how long it will take for them to figure out what's going on.

[lustspren]

P.S.T EP. 16 | And The Snakes Start To Sing ft Karina, Yeji.

length: 16.9k words ✦

Karina, Yeji X Male Reader

genres:  threesome, anal, facial, double blowjob, pussy eating, dirty talk, creampie, rough sex, bi, blowjob, daddy kink, footjob, titjob, face fuck

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The air felt different that morning, and so did the mattress and pillow beneath you.

But of course it did. After months of hotel after hotel, after dozens of different beds, you were finally in the comfort of your own bed, in your own place. It was a necessary commodity, since you were close to chronic fatigue or even back problems from changing mattresses so often without optimal rest.

It seemed like an unbeatable scenario for you, only that it could actually be improved; the two beauties you had under your arms when you woke up confirmed it. The two of them, realizing that you had already woken up, snuggled closer to your sides, both with their heads on your chest.

"Now that you're unemployed can we just stay like this all day?" Rina asked in a tender, low voice, clinging to you with her arms and legs.

You weren't prepared to even contemplate how to answer that question; it sounded too weird to hear, like it was a joke to catch you off guard.

"I know a few girls who might be interested in seeing him if he wanted to," Yeji interrupted you from your left to give you a peck on the collarbone, before you could say anything. "But I'm happy to stay with my two bros as long as you two want."

After bringing your hands to rub your eyes and a yawn you put your five senses together to be able to talk.

"We can certainly stay like this for a while," you squeezed them against you with your arms crossed over their soft backs, both pairs of soft breasts pressed against your ribs. "But there's something I didn't tell you last night..."

THE PREVIOUS MORNING.

You didn't know what was scarier, the spooky hangar you were walking to once you got off the jet, or the men in suits waiting for you inside. In the end you decided it was a draw.

The hangar had no lights inside, it was only lit by sunlight filtering through small rectangular windows at the bottom of the wide doors at the back that made the floor shine, which was very worn from probably so many years of one without maintenance. It was obvious that it had not been used for a long time.

But inside they were. The devils in suits. As haughty and visibly detestable as you imagined them. They were not exactly few; at first glance you counted more than a dozen, which led you to think that not only high executives of SM would be there. There had to be at least one from each big company with their respective entourage of assistants and security guards.

However, something caught your attention: neither Irene nor the reporter were there. Confused, you turned to look at Jihye as you crossed the threshold and were covered by the shadow, but she seemed to know perfectly well what was happening. It had to be the part that she left out of the plan for you.

She approached a tall man wearing sunglasses and stopped in front of him. You and the girls stopped behind Jihye. The man had to be the SM delegate, judging by how two men stepped forward from behind him as soon as you approached.

“Are the cars ready?” Jihye asked the man, who merely nodded before he began issuing orders to his men.

“Take them to the airport,” he ordered one of his aides, pointing directly at Rina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Ning. “They don’t need to be here for what’s coming next.”

“Huh?” Rina stepped away from the man who went to escort them to the car, her brow furrowed. “No way, we want to see Irene!”

The other girls came out in support of their leader and joined in the argument, insisting that they wanted to see the bitch who almost ruined their entire career.

The SM representative snorted and took a sharp step forward.

“Shut your fucking mouths and get in the car!” he pointed outside, where the caravan of black-tinted SUVs were. “SM, JYP, YG, and even HYBE have done miracles to be here and clean up the mess that damn bitch made,” he jerked his chin at Minjeong, who cowered in fear and embarrassment.

“Hey!” yelled Aeri, stepping forward and facing the man. “Watch your fucking mouth, you piece of shit!”

You were about to come to Minjeong’s defense as well, but Jihye grabbed your hoodie from behind like you were a little kid.

“It’s okay, girls,” she said, stepping between you and the man, and motioning for Aeri to get away. "Get in the car and behave yourselves. We'll all be meeting up soon."

You wanted to hold onto that as a comfort to them, but you got the slightest bit of a feeling that she didn't quite believe what she was saying. Rina, however, being the responsible person she was, gathered her entire troop together and nodded at them reassuringly. The four of them then hugged you and Jihye.

"Good luck, guys," Rina said, hugging you.

“Thank you, Jiminie,” you said, hugging her back with a few pats on the back.

By the time you and she pulled away, Minjeong and Jihye were still hugging each other for a little longer than you expected.

“Thank you for saving me, unnie…” you heard Minjeong say in a soft voice. “Even though I don’t deserve it.”

Jihye didn’t respond, just closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. Minjeong stepped away from her a second later, and joined the rest of the girls in letting the man lead them to the car. You had no choice but to watch as they entered and disappeared from your sight behind the tinted windows.

“Very well,” the man continued, as the car carrying the girls pulled away. “The matters discussed at the meeting have already been handled,” he nodded at you. “Does he know all the details?”

"He knows enough," Jihye replied flatly.

That felt like a pang in your heart. Aren't you two supposed to...?

"W-what?" you said to yourself.

"Let's go to the other hangar then," the man nodded, and motioned for Jihye to go with another guy. Then he looked at you. "You'll go with him."

He pointed to a different man, shorter and visibly younger. From the quality of his suit and the classy air he carried, he seemed to be another big shot. The man approached you, and after a bow invited you to follow him to the car. None of that gave you the slightest bit of confidence, but you couldn't feel anything but a deep stupor at Jihye's words, so you just followed him.

When you got into the backseat of the car it was like being on autopilot. You thought you knew the plan; you were supposed to have everything under control, you knew your part and what you had to do. But those words hinted that there was something going on behind the scenes that you didn't know about, and you were terrified just thinking about the possibilities.

The caravan of SUVs set off towards the hangar where Irene and the reporter were. On the way, the man you went with, who was also the one driving, cleared his throat and looked at you in the rearview mirror.

"Irene has a point, doesn't she?" he asked, in a polite and friendly tone of voice. The complete opposite of the SM representative.

Now you weren't just stunned by what had happened, but by that statement as well. The combination didn't let you answer.

"Be honest," he continued, now looking straight ahead. "Don't you think the industry is too cruel to aspiring boys and girls?"

"Uh..."

"I understand that part of the product is formed based on building a parasocial relationship with the fans," he interrupted you, answering his own question. “Honestly it’s cruel even for them. But I like to think that even with all the negatives…” he paused slightly. “The industry has done more good than harm.”

Noticing that he got a little carried away by his thoughts, the man glanced at you in the rearview mirror again and let out a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I apologize, buddy,” he said. “I’m Lee Gunwook, the JYP representative. And well, JYP himself shares the same vision: he just wants to make good progress in the industry for everyone involved.”

“I’m not surprised,” you said finally, looking out the window at the runways. “He looks like an open-minded man.”

Gunwook let out another laugh.

“You have no idea,” he replied. “But I go back to my question: don’t you think Irene has a point even though her methods weren’t the most ethical?”

The hatred and anger you felt towards Irene made your blood boil, but you had to be honest with yourself.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, just enough for him to hear.

He grinned from ear to ear.

“Alright, then you’ll need this and keep your mouth shut during the meeting.”

Gunwook reached into the glove compartment of the car and pulled out a visibly new phone. He handed it to you and you took it. It was a Samsung, you didn’t know which one exactly, but it was certainly a lot better than your current phone.

“Uh… well, I’ll need some time to get all the contacts and pictures from my phone onto this one.”

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that, it’s already taken care of.”

He pulled his phone out from between his legs and fiddled with it. A few seconds later your current phone completely lost signal, and the new phone turned on displaying the Samsung logo.

“May I know what the hell you did, Lee Gunwook?” You asked, seeing that there was absolutely nothing on your phone, no pictures, no contacts, no working mobile network.

“The number is the same, so I don’t think you need to worry about giving a new one to anyone,” he said, as if that was your biggest concern at the moment.

The caravan stopped a few moments later, and by that point you had already realized the immense amount of power that the people involved in this whole situation had. It was kinda scary.

Before getting out of the car, Gunwook turned around to look at you directly and not through the rearview mirror.

"By the way, thanks for taking such good care of the ITZY girls," he told you, with a sincerity that you recognized. "I have a soft spot for them because well, I recruited them years ago," he smiled proudly. "But well, let me and Noze take care of you, please."

Gunwook then opened the door to the snake pit, and you got out of the car with him.

That hangar did look like it had been used recently; it had nothing to do with the previous one. In this one the white floor was perfectly polished and shiny, and it reflected the multiple rows of white lights hanging across the room. The men in suits, you and Noze walked inside.

Inside were Irene and the bastard, and damn, you wished you could have pulled out your phone to photograph Irene’s face as she realized how much firepower Jihye had gathered in such a short time. You approached the two of them in quick steps.

“I see I made a mistake in underestimating such a wonderful woman,” Irene said when you stopped, a tone of affection in her voice and a weak smile on her face. “I should have been more cautious.”

As much as you wanted to crucify her and the other jerk, you couldn’t help but nod discreetly. Jihye just avoided her gaze and crossed her arms, looking up and down one of the hangar walls.

The SM representative quickly stood between them, hands behind his back.

“You are not going to speak to her, Bae Joohyun,” he said, stern. “There are far more important people here right now that you and your pathetic accomplice need to talk to.”

He waved his hand and with almost robotic efficiency, four men began setting up folding chairs and tables for everyone to sit at. The tables ended up pushed together, forming a long single table that looked typical of a boardroom. Irene and the reporter took the seats at one end, and you sat on the right side, between Jihye on your right and Gunwook on your left.

You looked at Jihye and examined her face for a moment. She didn’t seem nervous, or scared. Rather, she looked somewhat calm and impatient at the same time, as if she just wanted to grab her stuff, run away from there, and disappear. You understood that feeling, so you took her hand under the table.

But to your surprise, she didn’t reciprocate even though she always did. And you, after feeling another pang in your heart, let go of her hand and looked down at the table.

"Well, gentlemen," the SM representative began from the other side of the table. "I don't need to remind you why we're here." His gaze went to Irene and the reporter. "I respect your ambition, really. No one had ever managed to get the big companies to collaborate like this. So tell me, Bae Joohyun, what are you trying to achieve?"

"Hey!" the reporter shouted with a bang on the table, butting in. "She's not the only one you're negotiating with!"

The men in suits burst into laughter, Gunwook at your side in a somewhat more discreet manner. You and Jihye weren't amused in the slightest, in fact you didn't even understand why they were laughing so haughty and creepy.

The SM representative raised a hand, and silence fell again at the table.

"I'm afraid you're wrong," he said, still between small traces of laughter. "This isn't a negotiation. You're not even worthy of attention, mine or whoever else's at this table."

"I have the power here!" the reporter shouted back, very sure of his words. "I don't care what she says. I have the photos and enough information about the spa's clientele to have all of you in my pocket!"

"Oh yeah?" the SM delegate chuckled. "If you feel that powerful then go ahead and do it. Send your pathetic photos and publish your pathetic article. We won't stop you."

You looked up from the table and frowned at both the delegate and the reporter. Then you looked at Jihye, but again, she didn't seem the least bit fazed. You searched for her gaze to demand an explanation, but she avoided you. Lastly you looked at Irene, who did share the same terrified look as you.

The reporter pulled out his phone, causing absolute silence inside the hangar. Tension and uncertainty filled the air, but the only sources seemed to be you and Irene. The rest of the men, including Jihye, didn't seem worried. They looked more like orcas having fun with their prey before tearing it apart.

Minutes later the man set his phone down on the table, a triumphant smile on his face. The phones of the men in suits rang with notifications shortly after. The reporter laughed, thinking he had won the battle.

But the men in suits laughed louder than he did after checking their phones. The laughter reverberated through the hangar, like a malevolent chorus of demons rejoicing in the power they knew they had.

A creepy vibe entered your body and made you shudder immediately. You felt tiny. Helpless in that hostile environment where you felt like some really fucked up shit was simmering. A few hours ago you would think your solace would be Jihye, but she seemed to ignore your existence completely.

You were alone. In a deep pool of turbulent waters filled with sharks.

“I’ll spare you from having to read the message we all just received,” laughed the SM delegate, who then looked across the table at another big shot. HYBE or YG, most likely. “Haven’t you guys made a very generous contribution to Dispatch lately?”

That led you to think it must be the HYBE. YG was more disinterested in such matters.

“And not only that, the editor-in-chief and I are old college buddies,” the HYBE delegate nodded, in an exuberant display of arrogance.

“You see?” the SM delegate turned his gaze to the reporter. “I don’t think you understand, mate. What I mean is that you have no power over shit.” he pointed at his HYBE namesake. “That message we just received was from the editor-in-chief letting us know that neither your photos nor your article will see the light of day.”

The reporter and Irene suddenly found themselves backed into a corner, and you had a feeling that the knockout was coming soon.

“Just because Dispatch isn’t going to publish the article doesn’t mean other media won’t,” the reporter said with a nervous chuckle, somewhat desperate to somehow comfort himself.

“What?” The SM representative frowned, pretending he hadn't heard him correctly. "You mean the article you wrote about an illegal and scandalous spa that you and I operate?"

"Huh?" The reporter frowned, confused by that statement that even you couldn't understand. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"For fuck's sake," snorted another bigwig, who by elimination had to be the YG representative. "You think we don't know what goes on inside that fucking spa?" he asked, and slammed the table. "It's ours and we operate it! Through shell companies, of course."

Suddenly you felt like something was wrong with the way you perceived reality at that moment, as if a control tower inside your brain had failed. Did that mean...?

No, fuck. It couldn't be fucking possible.

"Oh, and I should add that I made sure that a certain judge's daughter passed our auditions." The YG representative added, bragging perhaps a little too much. "The good man paid us back by advancing some documents that showed a new owner of the spa. Can you guess who this new owner is?"

It had to be a lie, you were sure.

No, that wasn't the lie. Your job was the lie. Everything you had believed up until that moment was a fucking lie. Were you then... just another fucking pawn? Did they play puppet with you too? You clenched your fists under the table, unable to take it in.

"Do you understand what we want to tell you?" Gunwook asked at your side, for the first time in the entire meeting. "You are powerless. You have no control whatsoever. Just like the idols of our companies."

You were in complete shock, realizing that you had only been another puppet of the industry for much longer than you imagined. You weren't able to take it all in, it was too many revelations in too little time. You could only sink a little in your seat, staring blankly.

“How could you take their side?” Irene asked in a small voice, sounding betrayed, defeated. You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was addressing. “You may have moved on, but the reason I did all this in the first place was because of what these monsters did to us!”

Jihye swallowed thickly and pursed her lips to keep from opening her mouth. She stared at the ceiling lights, nervously moving her leg up and down.

“What did the monsters do to you, Joohyun?” the SM representative asked, in a tone so passive-aggressive that it made your hair stand on end. “Make you a global icon? Make you incredibly wealthy?” he slowly raised his tone of voice with each question. “Make you the face of major global fashion companies? Make thousands upon thousands of people look up to you?!”

“You took my love away, motherfucker!” She screamed, standing up with both hands on the table. “YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!” She pointed at Jihye.

Her words were so heartbreaking that you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. If only the images of Ning running out of the dressing room in tears and Minjeong cowering on the couch weren’t burned into your memory, maybe you would have even come to her defense.

Jihye moved her leg faster, and you noticed in her hand how she was trembling. All of this was tearing her apart too, you knew her more than well. You wanted to be able to reassure her somehow, but this was not the place or the time.

And you weren't sure she would have accepted it either.

"So we finally got to where you wanted us to," the SM representative said. "You don't really care about the industry. You just wanted to make us feel guilty and end up just like now. Us here while you express your love for Jihye."

Jihye twisted her head and clenched her fist, visibly cringing at the man calling her by her real name.

"As I was saying," the SM representative continued with a sigh, in a terrifying serenity as if this was just a child's game. "I admire your ambition and your ingenuity. But from a public relations point of view it is much better to handle this matter internally than just terminating your contract and ruining your image," he turned to look at Jihye. "Tell her about the agreement we've reached, Noze."

"No..." you said quietly, realizing that this was when everything would break off.

Jihye stood up and raised her hand, still trembling. Her lower lip was quivering as well.

"I, Noh Jihye, resign from my position as Aespa's manager..." she gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. "And I am honored to accept my new role as division manager for all girl groups under SM Entertainment."

That was the final blow, but not for Irene or the reporter. For you. The multiple stabs in your heart had now turned into one, accurate shot. Betrayal always hurt when it came from the front, but this was like a stab in the back, full of rage. And the worst: it came from the person you loved.

True friends stab you in the front.

Jihye then left your side and walked to sit on Irene's left. You couldn't take your eyes off her, and she knew it, which is why she kept staring at the floor. She was afraid that if she looked into your eyes she would break.

"The four delegates here assured me that they will not interfere in our relationship anymore," Jihye continued, her gaze downcast, kicking you to the ground when you were already unconscious. "No more threats. No more changes in our careers. They will also move to the main office so that I can be here in Seoul with you."

Irene didn't believe it much more than you did. She kept looking at Jihye as if she had gone completely crazy.

"W-what?" she said.

"It will be hard for me to forgive you for all the harm you have caused," Jihye said, a robotic and emotionless tone that led you to think that this was all scripted. "But I know that you did it out of love. We can fix it."

All of that could have been previously agreed upon against Jihye's will, but still, the stab wound hurt like hell, especially since it was still open and receiving blows. So without thinking, you tried to stand up to intervene in all of that, but Gunwook pulled you down by the hoodie and physically prevented you from doing so.

He approached your ear, still holding on to you despite your attempts to get away.

"Trust us," he said, and you had no choice but to swallow dirt and stay still.

"All they ask in return is that the evidence be handed over to them," Jihye continued. "Photos, articles, videos. Everything."

"B-but!" the reporter stood up. "This is not..."

"Shut up!" Irene shouted, cutting him off short. "I'll make it up to you for everything, I promise," she then looked at the SM representative. "We accept the terms."

The SM delegate tapped the table with his knuckles and leaned back in his seat. The cocky grin on his face made you want to jump over the table and knock out every single tooth in him.

“See? Easy,” he said, and looked at all of you present. “I love happy endings, don’t you?”

All the men at the table burst out laughing again, except for you and the reporter.

“Well,” the SM delegate said again. “Can someone take Noze and Irene to the main offices so they can sign their NDAs and have Noze sign the paperwork for her new job which, I might add, comes with a pretty hefty raise?”

Two of the men flanking the SM delegate stepped forward and went to Jihye and Irene, who stood up and were led out of the hangar and into the car.

You just stared at Jihye as she left, still unable to believe that the most wonderful woman you'd ever met had done that to you. And not just to you, but to the girls she claimed to love.

It all seemed like a fucking nightmare. A very fucked up one.

"Next business," the SM delegate said, now looking at the reporter. "Very well, we all know that Irene will more than compensate you. And from the kind of scum we all know you are here, I think that's all you care about."

The reporter gulped and slammed the table, clearly still furious.

"You're not getting away with..."

The SM delegate leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, looking at him over his sunglasses. That was enough to shut up the reporter.

"Once she's paid you, you'll leave the country, never come back, and you'll stay away from any overseas activities that any of the companies at this table handle," he said menacingly, letting the reporter know that he was on the tightrope. "I think we've made enough of a display of our might for you to know that we're not to be messed with."

The reporter, acknowledging defeat, sat down and crossed his arms.

“Alright, alright…” he grumbled. “I accept the terms.”

The SM delegate returned to his natural position and placed his hands on his thighs.

“Take his phone, give him his plane ticket, and get his stinking ass out of here,” he ordered.

A new team of men went with the reporter and escorted him out of the hangar, in a not-so-gentle manner. You could almost say they kicked his ass out.

All the shock caused by Jihye’s betrayal made you ignore the fact that you were now alone in the snake pit. You only took it in when the SM delegate locked his gaze on you.

“And finally, the last matter,” he said, and looked you up and down as if you were a piece of shit. “What do we do with this upstart who doesn’t know his place? We let him fuck our idols, we pay for his fucking plane ticket, and how does he pay us back? By getting us into this fucking mess.”

Before you could open your mouth and bring up how sharp your tongue felt at the moment, Gunwook poked you in the thigh to shut you up.

“Come on, Sanghyeok,” Gunwook said. “Why torture the poor guy? We’ve all already agreed on what we’d do with him.” He looked at you. “I’d also say we owe him a pat on the back, don’t you think? He took care of our idols as discreetly as he could and made sure this whole thing stayed under our control.”

“Gunwook!” the HYBE manager complained with a chuckle. “It would have been fun to see him squirm a bit before we told him what we had planned for him.”

The anger you felt at how those bastards talked about you like you were a toy made your blood boil like hot lava. But that only made you realize that that was just a portion of what both trainees and idols must have felt over the years.

They were trash. You were surrounded by fucking trash. Scum that didn't deserve the slightest bit of respect. They disgusted you.

"I guess you have a point, and I'm already tired of being here." Sanghyeok, the SM representative, admitted, then looked at you. "Alright kid, you have two options: you can sign the NDAs we have right here and never interact with any idols ever again..."

"I don't think we need to tell you what would happen to you if you broke that agreement," the HYBE representative added, to which you didn't even look at him.

"Or," Sanghyeok continued. “You can run your own contracting company focused on cultural integration and consultation. Of course this will all be a facade, for you to solve the problems we’d like to stay away from and for you to continue fucking our assets.”

Of all the things you heard that day, for some reason that was the one that left you the most baffled. Running your own company? What the hell was that fucker talking about?

“I’m sure I’m wasting my time asking, but what do you choose, kid?” he insisted.

Gunwook put a hand in front of you and again stopped you from answering yourself.

“Hey, hey, why don’t we give him a set of both documents and I’ll advise him on both options before he signs anything?” he proposed.

Luckily for you all the big fish agreed, and then the session was finally adjourned after two folders were handed to you. The tables were pushed back, as were all the chairs. Gunwook escorted you out, while you did nothing but glare at each of the bastards as they drove away.

"Sit in the passenger seat, please," Gunwook said as you approached the car.

You agreed and climbed into the passenger seat. Gunwook climbed into the car as well, and looked at you after a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure that was hard to watch," he said, then started the car.

You didn't know how to respond. You didn't even know how to feel at that moment, with so many emotions churning inside you and isolating you from reality.

Jihye had betrayed you, dammit. And not only that, she had agreed to get back together with the person who hurt her so much in the first place. You were sure a kick in the balls could have hurt less at the time.

"Well, luckily everything went according to Noze's plan," Gunwook said, driving on the way to the airport. "I certainly owe that woman one."

You frowned and turned to look at him.

"Her plan was to betray me in the worst way possible and spit me on the ground once dead?" you asked. "That's fucking bullshit, mate." you looked out the window again.

Gunwook sighed.

"Did you know Noze and my little sister used to be trainees together?" he asked, staring ahead. "My little sister developed a really bad case of anxiety and an eating disorder because of that life. But that never stopped Noze from wanting to take care of her like she was his own sister."

You turned to look at him and realized that it hurt him to talk about it. So you politely paid attention.

"It was a tough time," he continued. "My little sister really kept hitting rock bottom, over and over again, but Noze was always there for her. Even when..." he started to say something, but swallowed hard and took it back. "Anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is so you know you can trust me. I know what my coworkers are capable of."

"You didn't seem to disagree with anything they said."

"What would you have done in my place?" Gunwook asked. "Get up, insult every single one of them, and screw everything up? That's not how it works, kid. You gotta be a little hypocritical in this life every now and then. It'll keep you afloat with certain people."

"Are you afraid of what they might do to you for being rebellious or what?"

"I've seen a lot of shit, mate. Dark shit. Of course I'm afraid," he said. "That's why I stay out of the way and work under the table."

"I guess I can't judge you then," you said with a shrug, and looked ahead.

"Besides, this was Noze's idea too," he said.

"The what?"

"Me sharing our past with you. She said she knew it would be just what you needed to hear."

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle, and looked out the window again.

"It doesn't heal the knife wound, but I appreciate it."

When you arrived at the airport, Gunwook was considerate enough to walk you to the point where you would have to go through the re-entry process. Before you left, he grabbed your forearm.

"Boy, I'm asking you, Noze is asking you," he looked you in the eyes. "Take the job, and do everything in your power to protect the girls." He squeezed your forearm, not in a rough way, but rather affectionately. "It's your decision, and if you want to just leave we will respect it. But we need your help."

"Gunwook... I-I..."

"I'll call you tomorrow to discuss the details and explain everything," he interrupted you with a gentle wave of his hand. "But you must know that with or without you, this whole thing with Irene was just the first battle. The industry is about to go to war."

With that said, he nodded at you and let go of your forearm to go back the way he came, leaving you with a nest of angry hornets in your head that didn't let you think clearly.

It was all fucking overwhelming. You would never have imagined carrying a weight of that magnitude on your shoulders in your life, and you certainly weren't prepared for it. All things considered, it was like sending a poor, inexperienced 17-year-old bastard straight into a trench in 1916. Maybe you were exaggerating and it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't what you had in mind when you agreed to go on tour with Aespa.

Speaking of Aespa, you weren't surprised to find Rina waiting for you once you went through the re-entry process. Amidst all the shit that day, seeing her was like seeing your guardian angel. A safe place at last.

"God, you're finally here!" she said as you approached, taking steps towards you. "What happened? How was everything? Where's Jihye?"

Your only response was to hug her tightly and bury your face in her neck. She must have figured this wasn't the time to ask questions, so she just hugged you back and rubbed your back.

"Where are the girls?" you asked after a few long seconds, still clinging to her.

"They distracted the fans at the airport so I could wait for you." Rina replied softly, stroking the hair on the back of your neck.

You pulled away from her with your arms still around her waist so you could look into her eyes. She looked back at you, visibly worried.

"I promise to tell you everything," you assured, and squeezed her waist. "But really, I'm exhausted and I need to process all of this."

"It's okay, honey," she nodded, and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. "Let's go."

Rina led you outside, where a vehicle with tinted windows and a driver was waiting for you. You got into the back seats.

“Do you want to go to your apartment or ITZY’s house to see Chaery?” Rina asked you, removing her hood and mask.

Fuck, the ITZY girls. You hadn’t even let them know you were back in the country. They weren’t expecting you until the next day.

“My apartment,” you answered immediately, still overwhelmed by it all. “I’m not sure I can look Chaery in the eye right now.”

Rina leaned in to examine your face in a small moment of silence.

“Does it have to do with your mood back in Mexico City?” she ventured, knowing you perhaps too well.

As the car pulled away you took a deep breath and sank into the seat with your arms crossed, staring out the window. And before you knew it, you were telling Rina everything that happened that morning between you and Jihye. It wasn't hard to tell; you remembered every word she had said to you. Unfortunately.

"Fuck..." she said under her breath, and sank down into the seat with you to wrap an arm around your abdomen and hug you, her cheek resting on your arm. "Sounds like you need a bros night."

"I couldn't agree more," you said, and uncrossed your arm to wrap it around her.

You and Rina took a short ten-minute nap, until you were woken up by the driver letting you know you had reached your destination. You looked up and looked out the window, immediately recognizing the ground floor of your building.

"Hey, at least tell me something," she grabbed your arm. "Someone hit Irene?"

"I wish." you replied with a disappointed sigh.

Rina snorted.

“That’s a fucking shame,” she let go of your arm, and you opened the door to get out. “Hey, get some sleep okay? I’ll be ready to talk whenever you want.”

“What about the girls?” you asked, hand on the top edge of the door. “They’ll want to know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rina said. “I’ll keep them at bay until you feel comfortable sharing the details.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “Thanks, Jiminie, really.”

She gave you a loving smirk, and blew you a kiss.

“Nothing to thank, silly.” she said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled back, and then closed the door to let the car drive off.

Going up to your apartment you hoped you could find some peace of mind in the comfort of your place. After all, you'd been gone for a couple of months, anyone would have breathed a deep sigh of relief.

But as soon as you opened that door and stepped through the threshold, your first instinct was to walk straight to your couch, sit down, and sink into tears with your hands on your head.

None of it made sense to you; you couldn't wrap your head around it. You still wanted to believe that it was all a bad dream that would pass at any moment, and that you would wake up next to Jihye in Mexico City as if nothing had happened.

Everything had rotted. Everything.

Between heartbroken sobs you couldn't do anything else but stare at the ceiling, wondering why everything had to turn out that way. Was anything with Jihye real? Did she lie to you all this time? No, fuck, it couldn't be. You weren't even prepared for what was coming, much less did you know if you wanted to find out.

Rina. You needed her. But you hadn't the slightest idea how to break all the news to her; it made your stomach turn just remembering all that. To top it off, you didn't know if it was the right thing to do to tell them everything. That job belonged to someone else.

But that damn person had to be on her way to SM's offices, holding hands with her ex.

No. Not her ex. Her girlfriend. Again.

You couldn't call Rina, not at that moment. So you turned to the only other person you knew you could trust and vent to. You took out your phone to text Yeji.

With that done, you were finally able to calm your sobs. You didn't have the energy for anything else at that moment, even though you were hungry. You just got up from the couch, went to your room and laid there like a sack of potatoes. Your eyes were burning from crying so much, so it wasn't hard for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up you weren't next to Jihye, unfortunately. It had all really happened, and it still felt like the worst nightmare you'd ever had in your life.

But fuck it. You had to face that head on. There was no point in drowning in a glass of water. Things had to work out, by hook or by crook, and it was not the time to be downcast. You would force yourself to get out of that damn bed and get ahead.

You grabbed your phone and sighed in relief when you saw that you hadn't slept too late; it was barely 7PM. You got into Yeji's chat, just to ask her what time she'd be coming over. However, you hadn't even finished typing the message when your apartment doorbell rang.

You got out of bed and walked out of your room straight to the door. When you opened it, Yeji was waiting for you under the threshold with two bags in her hands, dressed in comfy sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and yet she still managed to look stupidly gorgeous.

"Hi!" she smiled from ear to ear, and you automatically did too, having missed that cute cat smile so much.

You didn't even have time to say hello back when she walked inside as if the apartment was hers. She walked into your living room as you closed the door, setting the two bags on top of your circular coffee table and striding over to give you a hug that felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, light fury.” you said softly, squeezing her tight in your arms.

“Do you know how much I missed you, donkey?” she asked, her head on your shoulder. “A lot.”

“And I missed you too, sweetheart.” you replied. “These two months felt like an eternity.”

Yeji pulled away from you and nodded toward the coffee table.

“I brought beer,” she said. “And Lia made you food.”

“Wait what?” you frowned. “Didn’t I tell you not to tell anyone? How did Lia know to make me dinner?”

Yeji made an awkward face and scratched the back of her neck.

"About that... well, I had no choice." she shrugged. "Before I could come up with an excuse to justify being out until morning, Lia came to my room."

You sighed and walked over to the bags to find the one with the tupperwares.

"She and the girls were planning a welcome back surprise for you..." Yeji said, turning to you.

"Which isn't a surprise anymore." you interrupted her, stacking up the three tuperwares.

"No, certainly not." she agreed with a sigh, arms akimbo. "But the thing is, she wanted to know if I wanted to go shopping for swimsuits and party supplies with them, so I had to tell her so she'd cover for me."

As you opened the tupperware your stomach growled, and in your head you blessed Lia in the name of every god you knew. One had bibimbap, the other had kimchi jjigae, and the last had japchae with marinated spinach. The bag also had two metal chopsticks. Everything looked delicious.

“Chaery looked so adorable,” she said with a giggle. “She wanted everything to be perfect, and she was even baking you a cake.”

You hated the fact that Chaery had gone to all that trouble for nothing, but you smiled as you imagined her yelling at everyone while she was in the kitchen. She was just too cute.

“So?” you prompted her to continue, sitting down on the couch.

“Nothing, Lia told the girls that Rina told me you wouldn’t be landing tomorrow due to flight issues.”

You looked down and let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for making you lie,” you said, chopsticks in your hand as you looked at the food. “And especially for bringing Lia into this too.”

“Oh don’t worry.” she walked over to one of your counters, where you had your record player. “Just don’t make it a habit. Now eat, your food is going to get cold and Lia put a lot of effort into it.”

Your stomach was growling so much that you didn’t need her to tell you twice. First you tried the bibimbap, some zucchini with some beef. Fucking delicious, as was the kimchi and the japchae.

While you ate, Yeji began to examine your vinyl records. You trusted that she would know how to operate the record player, so you just let her choose. In the end she opted for a jazz classic: Time Out by The Dave Brubeck Quartet. A choice you didn’t expect but appreciated.

She then sat down next to you and crossed her legs to look at you.

“Alright, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked as you chewed on some pork.

You knew you had to be as brief as possible, but in the end you ended up telling her every detail: everything Irene had done, what she had put Minjeong through, why you had unexpectedly returned, and finally, what happened at the meeting that morning.

By the end of your story Yeji was speechless, unable to take in any of what you had told her. A living reflection of what you felt. In her eyes you could see that she was waiting for you to tell her that some of it was a lie, but you wish you could.

"What the fuck..." she said quietly, her gaze lost. "I mean, Irene does have a point, but taking advantage of her hoobaes like that? That's fucking vile."

"I know." you replied, finishing the jjigae.

“I’ve teased the NMIXX girls too, but I’ve made sure to never hurt them,” she leaned back and sank into her seat. “I love those girls like they’re my little sisters, and I’d kill for them just as much as I would for ITZY.”

“Well… I have to admit,” you covered two tupperware containers and focused on the japchae. “That even though I was so fucking upset, seeing Irene so fragile while talking about what the industry had taken from her made me feel some…” you took a moment to measure your words. “Sympathy for her. A smidge.”

That statement caused an awkward silence between the two of you, with nothing but the third track from the record, Take Five, playing.

“So… how are the girls of Aespa handling the loss of their manager?” she finally asked.

“I haven’t told them that,” you admitted. “I thought Noze deserved the right to break the news to them herself.”

Yeji stood up suddenly, startling you.

“HOW COULD YOU HIDE THAT FROM THEM?!” she yelled at you, and you just hung your head like a scolded dog. “The only relationship that’s more important than the one we have with our manager is the one with the members themselves!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” you said, both hands up as if she was going to hit you at any moment. “But Noze and them have been together since day one, and I honestly didn’t feel like going through any more shit today.”

Recalling everything you’d told her, Yeji resigned herself and sat back down beside you to rub your back. But you knew she was right.

“Look, I know we’re close friends and all, and I definitely don’t want to be rude or nosy,” she said. “But… why did you want to spend time with me tonight and not Chaery?”

"Well..."

Your doorbell rang, and with it two knocks.

You frowned in confusion and looked at Yeji, wondering if she had invited anyone else.

Three more knocks, this time louder and more frantic. Yeji then looked at you, also confused and even a bit scared, you might say. You stood up to walk to the door.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" she asked behind you, and you just shook your head with your hand on the doorknob.

Your heart started to beat fast. There were very few people who knew where you lived, including the reporter. Had the bastard returned to take revenge and pay you back? Ready to open it and beat him to a pulp, you suddenly opened the door.

Only to find the four Aespa girls, their beautiful and innocent faces lighting up once they saw you. They were all wearing casual clothes, and you could tell by the looks on their faces that they had taken a well-deserved break upon arriving.

“I’m so sorry for the surprise,” Rina told you with a nervous little smile, before you could say anything, and then held up the bags she was carrying for you to see. “But we brought soju.”

Before you could say anything—again—Yeji ran up from the couch and elbowed you aside to hug all the Aespa girls. They were taken aback at first, but then recognized who she was.

“Gosh, I’m so glad you girls got here safely,” Yeji said, as she was pulled into everyone’s arms. “I’m so sorry for everything you had to go through.”

“We’re sorry for showing up unannounced.” Rina said, and then giggled. “And interrupting whatever was going on.”

You locked eyes with Ning, who blew you a cute little kiss, then Minjeong, who gave you a cute little smile, and finally Aeri, who just made a V with her fingers.

“Can you guys come in?” you said. “The air conditioning is going out.”

You stepped aside to let the five of them in. They all went to sit on the couch. Yeji was the only one who had to sit on the single couch. And you, well, you stayed standing.

“We’ve been texting and calling Noze since we woke up,” Rina said, her forearms resting on her knees. “She never checked in at the dorm manager’s area.”

You and Yeji locked eyes. And you took a deep breath, hands on your waist.

“Look, I know you don’t feel like repeating what happened this morning, but the girls and I are worried about Noze,” Rina said, concerned. "We just want to know if she's okay."

You looked at Yeji again, who just nodded.

"Time for some courage, sweetheart," she said, then stood up to give you her seat. "I'll go to your room to call Lia and you know, tell her you're okay and tell her everything that happened."

You nodded and sat in Yeji's place as she walked down the hall and to your room. So you stayed with the Aespa girls, and damn, it was hard to look them in the eyes with all you had to say.

"Mother of God, where do I start..." you took a deep breath, and brought your hands together to your mouth and nose.

It was hard for you, but you ended up touching on every topic: Jihye's resignation, how she didn't tell you the whole plan, what happened with the reporter, and finally, how she left the hangar with Irene. By the time you finished you felt like you had spat blade after blade from your throat. That's how uncomfortable it was for you. You didn't break down crying again because you had to be strong, but you were close.

In all of them you recognized the feeling of being betrayed, you knew it by their looks, because it was the same one you had earlier. You expected some of them to burst into tears or even make a scene of rage, but no, they were so shocked that they barely blinked. And honestly, it was the most logical reaction for you.

“I guess there’s nothing we can do now…” said Ning, who was the first to speak. She was the one who looked the closest to tears, but she was surprisingly strong.

“We’ve always relied on Noze for everything,” Minjeong said, looking at all of them. “And I think… well, I think it’s not the time to question her.”

Minjeong could say that, but in her low voice you could tell she felt a disappointment so great that it overwhelmed her. The same could be said about Ning.

Rina nodded and turned to Aeri, who had her gaze lost on the floor. You noticed one of her hands shaking. She was not only disappointed, but also furious. You were sure she wasn’t making a scene just because she was in your apartment.

“Gigi, can you make sure the girls get home safely?” she asked. “I’ll be there in the morning.”

“And why don’t you come with us?” Aeri asked back. "I'm the dad who can't take care of two whiny brats and panics easily, and you know it."

"I know that, but my bro and I have a conversation that's been pending for a while."

Aeri sighed and stood up. Ning and Minjeong followed her.

"Alright, just come back tomorrow before noon," Aeri said. "I refuse to cook lunch."

Aeri went with you and leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. Minjeong was a little more affectionate and cupped your face to do the same. Ning on the other hand went a step higher and took your chin to plant a small kiss on your lips. You grabbed her forearm before she left with Aeri and Minjeong.

"I'll call you, okay?" you told her.

"You know I'll always answer, dear." she nodded, her lips curled into a weak smile. Then you let go of her so she could leave with the girls.

Once you were alone with Rina, she stood up and went to sit on the right side of your lap, wrapping her left arm around your shoulders.

"Well, there's no point in thinking about what happened this morning anymore, but..." she paused as she rubbed your back. "I never got to talk to you about what was bothering you in Mexico City."

Just then Yeji appeared out of the hallway. You looked at her and let out a sigh.

"Good thing you two are here for that."

"For what?" Yeji asked, going to sit on the other side of your lap. It felt good to have them both there, but your legs were going to fall asleep at any moment.

"Oh girl, just listen because it's fucked up."

You hated having to spit it all out again, but you had no choice. You blurted out everything as quickly as you could without letting too many details slip: the incident between you and Jihye, what she said to you and how she even made you question if all of this was fair to Chaery and Ning, and even to the two of them.

Only this time you couldn't hold back a couple of tears, realizing how desperate the situation was.

"Oh honey..." Yeji said sadly, cupping your face with one hand and wiping a tear away with her thumb. "Yeah, it's certainly a fucked up situation."

"God, I hate that you have to go through this, you don't deserve it." Rina said as well, stroking your hair. "Look, you're technically unemployed now, so your career can't put you in an awkward situation anymore. It's up to you who you want to be with, right?"

"Yeah well..." you then stared at the bags piled up on the table. "It would be a shame if we let the beer and soju get warm, wouldn't it?"

Having to keep your new job offer from them sucked, but you hadn't even made a decision yet, so it would be best to keep everything under the table for the moment before jumping to conclusions.

"Yup, I think the three of us deserve a drink," Yeji said, giving you a peck on the side of your head before standing up. "Do you have any shot glasses?"

You shrugged.

"I don't know, look in the kitchen," you said. "I guess I do."

"And I, if you'll excuse me, am going to turn on the Switch," Rina said, giving you a peck on the cheek before standing up and walking over to the TV. "Help me?"

As you and Rina turned on the Switch and TV and set everything up, Yeji came back with the three shot glasses and set them on the table.

“I had to wash them; they were dusty.” she said, standing behind two of you. “Hey, you have a Jenga right? I thought I saw one in your room.”

“Indeed,” you nodded, turning on three joy-cons before setting them down on the coffee table. “Give me a sec.”

You quickly went to your room to get the Jenga game. It was also somewhat dusty; you had to blow it off and wipe the pieces a bit with your hand before walking out and setting it down on the table. Yeji and Rina were waiting for you on the couch, with the three shot glasses already filled with Soju.

The vinyl record Yeji had put on had worn out a while ago, so before you sat down with them, you went to your record player and put on a new one: Too Low For Zero by Elton John. Another classic that you definitely needed to hear right now.

You finally took a seat between the two of them as they grabbed their glasses.

“A little warm-up round before we start,” Rina said, picking up the glass before downing it.

“Geonbae!” Yeji toasted, before downing her drink as well. You followed suit.

That was just the beginning of the fierce drinking olympics that was coming up. Of course you played Jenga first, a game that Yeji turned out to be hilariously terrible at, so she drank the most. You and Rina drank a couple of times as well, but Yeji had to down like six shots.

You then played Two Truths and a Lie, which made you realize how good Rina really was at lying and messing with other people's minds. She had you and Yeji as weak links, drinking over and over again for not guessing almost any of her lies correctly.

You got your revenge when you played Caps, a game where you sat apart from each other in a triangle to throw bottle caps into glasses in front of you, and the player who got a cap in, had to drink. Rina turned out to have a pathetic aim, and the only two caps she managed to hit were more luck than anything else. You and Yeji, on the other hand, were Deadshot and made her drink non-stop.

"Aight stop it!" Rina shrieked, already pissed off. "Let's have some real fun, I don't like this anymore!"

You and Yeji couldn’t stop laughing, forced to stop when Rina glared at you.

“Alright, alright,” you said, controlling your giggles. “What do you propose?”

“Beerio Kart,” Rina said. “But striptease.”

“Uhhh,” Yeji butted in. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

“At your own risk, then,” you said with a shrug and standing up.

The three of you grabbed your Joy-Cons, popped open your beers, and quickly set the rules, which were pretty simple. The most notable being that the person who failed to finish their beer before the race had to take off an item of clothing.

And you were just too good; you kept winning, over and over again until you had Yeji and Rina in nothing but a bra and panties. But they, being the devilish and competitive duo you knew they were, teamed up to play dirty and stop you from winning so easily. That turned the tables on you too quickly, and without even noticing, you were the first one to be completely naked. With a hard boner in full view of the two of them, caused by the semi-nakedness of that pair of hot perfect bodies.

"Hey, you remember what I told you the last time we drank, right?" Rina said next to you, with a mocking giggle.

She was on your right, lying on her side and leaning up on her elbow as she played. You didn't hesitate for a single second to grab her head with one hand and shove it down against your cock, hard and without gentleness. Rina took every inch without complaint, until her nose rested on your pubis.

Yeji giggled with her gaze fixed on the screen.

"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one he gets rough with," she teased.

You let go of Rina's head and she was free to pull out for a deep breath. But that didn't stop her from continuing to suck half of your cock in slow pumps, focusing on the race as well.

"God," you gasped, trying to focus. "Enough of the games. I want to fuck you two."

Rina pulled you out of her mouth and looked up to share a small smirk with Yeji.

"There's just one little problem with that, sweetheart," Yeji said. "Neither of us are completely naked yet."

"You have to earn it," Rina added, giving your cock a peck before focusing completely on the race.

They had you in constant agony to win race after race, as they kept playing dirty like the vile rats they were. In some races Rina kept sucking your cock, moaning on purpose just to drive you crazy. In others Yeji masturbated while downing the beer, knowing that her cold hand would make you shiver.

In another race they took it further and took advantage of your weakness for pretty feet, and both of them put their legs up on the couch just to alternate from side to side and give you footjobs. At times it was just Rina's feet, at others it was just Yeji's, but the craziest you went was when they used their feet at the same time to stimulate every part of your cock.

Eventually that pace became unsustainable for them, and it only took one short moment of extreme concentration for you to finally win that race.

As soon as you crossed the finish line and knew victory was yours, you threw the joycon on the table and grabbed Yeji's legs by the calves to shove one of her feet into your mouth.

"About time you got serious, huh?" Yeji teased, reaching behind her back to take off her bra and free her pair of nice perky tits.

"It only took him four races." Rina laughed beside you, caressing your balls with her toes.

After sucking, licking and kissing both the soles of Yeji's feet and her toes, you helped her take off her panties and then went to repeat the process with Rina, who had already taken off both her bra and panties and was waiting for you with her pretty feet up.

Yeji settled herself on the couch and positioned her head facing you, lying on top of your left thigh to take your cock in her hand and take it into her mouth. You, meanwhile, focused on Rina's soft, pretty feet, caressing the tops of her thighs and moving up to grab her tits with strong squeezes.

Having had your fill of her feet, you moved away and she adopted the same position on the couch as Yeji, her arm over your thigh to pepper the side of your cock with kisses and licks while Yeji sucked the tip up and down, pumping it faster and sloppier. Rina followed that trend as soon as it was her turn to have you inside her mouth, only she took in more inches with each pump, until soon your cock was soaked in a combination of both of their thick saliva.

You extended both arms out to the sides and ran your hands down their delicious bodies. Your caresses went from their backs, down their arms and all the way to their hips, where you then just squeezed their buttocks before leaving your hands there. But the excellent job they were doing on your cock made you want to reward them by running your fingers between their butt cheeks and rubbing both their butt holes and pussies.

"Alright, enough." you panted after less than a minute. "Let's go to bed so I can eat you out comfortably."

"Mmm, yes daddy, as you order." Rina said, pulling you out of her mouth, spitting the accumulated saliva onto your tip.

"Are you gonna make me call him that too?" Yeji asked, collecting the saliva Rina had just spit out to spread it over the side of your cock. "I don't refuse, honestly," she looked up at you. "What do you think, daddy?"

"I think you two better get up and walk straight to the bedroom before I go crazy," you gave Yeji a small spank.

"Coming on, daddy," Rina laughed, standing up from the couch and wobbling a bit. It was worth noting that by this point the three of you were walking the fine line between drunk and just turned on. “No need to get grumpy.”

Yeji and Rina held hands and headed straight down the hall to your room. You took a moment, just to pick up the things scattered on the table and turn off the TV and the console before going into the room with them.

You found them wrapped around each other with arms and thighs intertwined, sharing a fierce and sensual kiss that only fueled the flame inside you. They broke the kiss and Yeji turned to look at you with a mischievous smile, while Rina showered her neck with kisses and groped her.

If that was a way to hurry you, then it had worked perfectly, because you threw yourself into the bed like a hungry leopard. First you got between Yeji's legs to get on top of her and lower your mouth directly to her tits, which you kissed and sucked before going up and kissing her.

Rina put her hand between your bodies and reached for your cock to take it and stroke it, now being the one who was eating Yeji's tits while you two were making out. But soon you gave her her turn, directly grabbing her chin to crash your lips together.

In the middle of your kiss with Rina you brought a hand between her thighs and rubbed her pussy up and down before rubbing it in circles. She continued to move her hand on your cock, while you received kisses on your shoulders and neck from Yeji. Then you broke the kiss and moved down to Rina's heavy, round tits to eat them.

Once you had your starter with both of their tits, you decided to move on to the main course. You kissed Yeji again, but just a couple of seconds later you moved down to her cute belly to cover it all over with wet kisses. Before long you were now between her legs, and you grabbed her thighs to push them back and plant your mouth on her wet pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah..." Yeji moaned, arching her back and gripping the pillow behind her head. "I missed that sexy ass fucking mouth so much."

And you certainly missed that nice, delicious pussy, but instead of putting it into words you did it by eating it hungrily, reflecting the whole time you spent without even laying a finger on her. She let you know she loved it by tangling her fingers in your hair and giving it light tugs.

"Daddy's mouth is amazing huh?" Rina teased, lying face down with one knee drawn up as she had one of Yeji's tits inside her mouth. "I had it whenever I wanted for two months, and even a whole weekend."

"Mmmgh then I congratulate you," Yeji gasped, gently twisting her hips as you gave her clit quick licks. "But now daddy's back with me, and I'm not going to let you off easy."

"I don't think there's a problem with that," Rina replied, and you listened as they kissed, Yeji muffling moans against her lips. "Daddy has no problem fucking us both as much as we want, right daddy?"

"No problem at all." you replied, and you pulled away from Yeji's pussy to now go right, pressing Rina's ass cheek up and burying your mouth in her also shiny and silky pussy.

Rina moaned against Yeji's lips and pulled away to look down at you, while you ate her pussy from behind and groped both of her soft ass cheeks. Yeji then began to kiss her tits and neck, but she also put a hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit.

You could have spent the whole night between pussy and pussy feasting and satisfying your hunger for wet flesh, but your cock was so hard that it was starting to hurt. As a measure you adopted what they were most waiting for, and the first to taste it, of course, would be the one who went the longest without you in the first place.

"Tell me something, little cheshire," you said, kneeling up with one hand rubbing your cock. "How long have you been waiting for this?"

Yeji stared at your cock and spread her legs wide for you, massaging her own tits.

"Two fucking months daddy." she replied, biting her bottom lip. "Two months where I didn't have that delicious, juicy cock inside me."

You knelt between her legs and slowly rubbed the back of your cock between her wet folds. She looked into your eyes, holding her legs by the back of her knees.

"So what should I do, baby?" You now grabbed your cock and rubbed the tip up and down, teasing her entrance.

"Fuck me so hard that I can't walk properly tomorrow?" she asked with a moan. "Please? Please daddy, please!"

Not wanting to see her whimper anymore in pleas you grabbed your cock and finally pressed it forward. Yeji's tight pussy met you with only a little resistance, but within seconds you were burying yourself inch by inch inside her.

"Mmmgh yeah daddy put it all inside me!" she moaned, looking straight into your eyes, before you gave one last hard thrust to take your entire length all the way in. "Fuck!! Yes!!"

With your cock resting all the way in her pussy you let out a satisfied moan, realizing how much you truly missed her. It felt like picking up an addiction, and this was a dangerous one.

You removed Yeji's hands from behind her knees and replaced them with your own, pressing her legs back as you gave her the first few slow thrusts, which did nothing but make you both moan equally. Rina made no complaints and looked at you biting her lower lip, turned on by how the two of you were having pleasure. She pressed herself against Yeji's side and kissed her, groping her tits as well.

As you began to move your hips faster, you let go of Yeji's legs and leaned forward to plant them on either side of her torso, getting a close-up view of her and Rina swirling their tongues together and kissing. Rina then pulled away from Yeji's lips and raised her back enough to reach yours. You gladly accepted the kiss, but you also went harder on Yeji.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck!!" Yeji whimpered, your cock going all the way in and out of her tight walls and shaking her back and forth. "Harder daddy! Harder!! Yes!!"

You were forced to pull away from Rina's lips so you could focus entirely on Yeji. You straightened your back, and grabbed her legs to bring them together, holding her thighs and pressing them fully against her upper body. You were now thrusting hard up and down, filling your room with the sounds of flesh slapping together.

"Mmmmgh!!" Yeji squealed, biting the side of one hand and gripping the sheets beneath her with the other. She then released the hand she was biting and swatted it back to the bed to grab the sheet with it as well before arching her back. "Yesss!! FUCK!!"

After a few more thrusts Yeji exploded in spasms and violent contractions, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle screams of pleasure against it. Rina watched every detail with dilated pupils, eager and needing you to fuck her that hard too.

"You want that too, baby?" you asked Rina, slowly pumping in and out of Yeji's pussy as her orgasm passed.

"Yes daddy!" she answered immediately, and she followed your gaze as you pulled out of Yeji and got on top of her. "Use your pretty cumslut and fill her up, please!"

You adjusted your knees on either side of Rina's hips and sat on her thighs, squeezing her ass cheeks sideways to reveal her butthole and pussy, where you brought your hand up to rub a few times up and down. You first brought your thumb inside her pussy, and then pressed it against her butthole to get it halfway in.

"Stop playing around and fuck me already." Rina moaned, lifting her hips impatiently to rub her ass cheeks against your cock.

"You'll have me all night, why are you in such a hurry, baby?" you asked, your thumb now fully inside her ass.

"Because I'm so fucking wet!" she protested with a squeal, fingers gripping the sheets.

"You're just being a whiny bitch." Yeji said from the side, already recovered from her orgasm. "Daddy, should I make her shut up?"

"Go ahead." You nodded, pulling your thumb out of Rina's ass to now bring your index and middle fingers inside her pussy.

Rina moaned, watching as Yeji positioned herself in front of her with her legs spread and her pussy right in front of her face. Yeji didn't even ask for permission, she just grabbed Rina by the hair and sank her mouth against her pussy.

"Mmmgh," Yeji moaned, fingers tangled in Rina's dark strands. "That's so much better."

Teasing Rina was so much fun, and as she ate Yeji's pussy you pumped your fingers at a torturously slow pace for her. She wasn't complaining anymore, but she still desperately twisted her hips upward, looking for any kind of friction with your cock that would make you want to penetrate her already..

You put that moment off for a few seconds, as her pussy looked especially juicy and pretty that night. Watching your fingers enter and then come out soaked and shiny was too hot to ignore, and you kept pumping them slowly until you couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your cock to take it inside her.

That took Rina by surprise. She pulled the sheets under her hands and squealed against Yeji's pussy, with your cock almost completely inside her already. You had never fucked her prone bone, and that was your perfect opportunity to do so.

Sensing that she was intending to pull away, Yeji caught Rina's head between her thighs and squeezed to hold her back. Rina had no choice but to hold onto Yeji's legs with her hands, eating her out as much as her own moans would allow.

"What are you waiting for to fuck the brains out of the whiny brat, daddy?" Yeji asked you, looking into your eyes, a sexy half smile on her face. "You weren't gentle with me at all, and I don't think she deserves any less."

"You hear that, Jiminie?" you asked Rina, hands on her waist as you slowly pumped in and out of her warm, wet pussy. "Because of you I have to agree with Yeji."

You noticed Yeji's annoyed look at that comment, but you did a miracle to hold back your laughter. You made it a priority to move your hips faster and faster, your right hand moving up Rina's soft back until it rested on her right shoulder.

As the seconds passed, you began to get into a rhythm, until you had the bed shaking slightly from how hard you moved your hips, both hands gripping Rina's shoulders. You saw her desperate to break free so she could scream out loud, but Yeji showed no signs of wanting to please her, so you had to intervene.

"Give her a break, baby." you told Yeji between gasps. "I want to hear her cute whimpers as she begs me to fuck her harder."

"Ugh, fine." Yeji replied, and reluctantly untangled her thighs from around Rina's head.

"Agh fuck!!" Rina screamed as soon as the movement of her neck was released, turning to give you a sexy look over her shoulder. "Yeah daddy I fucking love that!!"

You let yourself fall forward and placed your hands on the mattress on either side of Rina's head. She held onto your right forearm with one hand and lifted her head to look up at you. All it took was for her to stick her tongue out for your chip to activate and you spit right on her.

"Fuck, you two really get dirty don't you?" Yeji teased with a playful tone, moving one leg to put one of her feet in front of your face. You caught it with your mouth without hesitation. "Have you ever spit anywhere other than her tongue?"

You certainly hadn't thought about it before, so after a few seconds of sucking Yeji's toes, you grabbed a handful of Rina's hair with your hand and pulled it hard to keep her face looking up at you. Then you spit again, this time on her parted lips and part of her nose.

"Mmmgh yes!!" Rina moaned as you hammered her pussy rapidly up and down, visibly aroused by how you had spit on her. "Use me like a dirty whore daddy, don't hold back, give me all you fucking got!!"

With one hand you had to signal Yeji to move back a little, so you could put that same hand on the back of Rina's head and roughly press her face sideways into the mattress. You left that hand there, and the other you left pressed against her lower back, supporting the full weight of your arms there to keep her completely still.

Rina muffled screams against the mattress, completely trapped beneath you. You used her pussy like a cheap fleshlight, fucking it so hard and so fast that you sweated even with the air conditioning on. Yeji's feet were still at your disposal right in front of your face, so you took her toes in your mouth to muffle your own moans against them.

"So gooood, so gooood!!" Rina squealed beneath you, tears in her eyes. "I'm so close daddy, make your little whore cum and then use her as a fucking cumdump!!"

Her dirty talk was just what you needed to feel close too. You knew you were going to cum together; it was some kind of crazy connection you and her had that for some reason always came true, so you let go of her head and let your body fall on top of hers, wrapping your arms around her neck, lifting her head and kissing her as you gave her your last few pumps.

Just as you had anticipated, the very moment you exploded, she followed just milliseconds later. Moans were muffled against each other's lips, between small wet kisses and spasms of both bodies. Rina grabbed your head, raising her hips to fuck herself against you as you filled every space in her pussy with jets of thick cum.

Your connection when fucking was so strong that once you both came you didn't even realize you were supposed to stop, you just kept going and going no matter how sensitive you were. It was a kind of addiction that you both had to notice first before you could stop. In this case, you were the one who stopped moving.

"Are you satisfied with the load daddy gave you, baby?" you asked, giving her little kisses near her mouth.

"So fucking satisfied..." Rina nodded, looking at you with a pair of eyes that to be frank, you were starting to develop a soft spot for. "Daddy's load feels so warm inside me."

"Daddy, can you come kiss me?" Yeji asked in front of you. She was lying on her side, her legs drawn up and one hand on her thigh. "I deserve it for waiting so long for you."

"It was only two months, Hwang Yeji." You replied with a mischievous smile, coming out of Rina and giving her a peck on the forehead before going to Yeji.

"Are you kidding? That was an eternity for me." she said, as you laid down behind her and wrapped your arms around her. "You're not leaving for a while, are you?"

"Nah, I don't think so." you replied, giving her pecks all over the side of her face until you found her lips.

"Unnie, don't you want to clean daddy's cum off my pussy?" Rina asked a few seconds later, as you and Yeji kissed.

Yeji immediately pulled away from your lips and looked at Rina.

"That's an offer I can't refuse," Yeji said, before licking her lips and going to get on top of Rina.

Yeji got on her hands and knees and had Rina lift her hips to put her in a similar position, then she put her hands on her buttocks and planted her face right between them to start the cleaning process. You watched it all with your hands clasped behind your head and the comfort of the pillow beneath it.

A few seconds later Yeji knelt up. She had a little cum on her upper lip, but she noticed it quickly and ran her tongue to clean it up as well. Rina finally dropped her hips down and crawled to lay beside you, one arm over your chest. Yeji did the same but on the opposite side. You wrapped your arms around both of them.

"Daddy has more where that came from for us, doesn't he?" Rina asked, giving you little kisses on the chest. "Because we don't feel tired at all."

"I bet he does." Yeji said from the other side, a hand caressing your abdomen and her mouth on your neck. "And I don't think he wants to waste having two it girls in his bed."

"You're being modest today, huh?" you teased, turning your head to kiss her. "Why don't you put that big mouth to work to get daddy hard again?"

"I'm not telling lies, am I?" she asked with a smirk, kneeling up. "Anyone would dream of having a threesome with the two of us."

Yeji bent forward over your cock with her ass facing you, then grabbed your limp shaft and took it into her mouth to suck on it. You raised a hand and groped her ass to turn to face Rina.

"You know what I'm going to ask you, don't you?" you said, rubbing the tip of your nose against her forehead to make her look at you.

"It has to do with how much you love my tits, daddy?" she asked, and moved a thigh up over yours to rub them together to press her tits against the side of your body.

"And not just yours," you replied, and looked at Yeji as you sucked on her now hard cock. "Wanna give it a try, sweetie?"

Yeji pulled you out of her mouth with a pop and looked at you.

"My tits aren't that big," she placed kisses around the tip, her hand going up and down. "But with some lube it'll be fun."

You smiled and gave her a small spank.

"I like the way you think."

Yeji put your cock down and climbed off the bed.

"Where do you keep it?" she asked, searching on top of your dresser.

"In the drawer of the nightstand." you nodded to the right.

Yeji went and opened the drawer to take out the white bottle of lube. She shook it and giggled.

"Oh, water-based, perfect. And wow, it's half empty." She looked at you. "You and Chaery sure were busy that week, huh?"

"I'll refrain from answering."

Yeji and Rina laughed in unison, as Yeji climbed back into bed with you. She rolled onto her back.

"I'm not going to go first, no way." Yeji said, and looked over at Rina. "Unnie, the honor is yours."

"I know, I wasn't going to let you go first either," Rina replied, and laid down next to Yeji as you knelt up. "Go ahead daddy."

"You can lube up our entire bodies if you want." Yeji said, handing you the lube.

"Oh yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, taking the little bottle and opening it. "Well, you don't have to tell me twice."

It was a bit of a late process for how hard and horny you were, but lubing up every inch of that pair of beautiful bodies was worth every second. It also served to refresh your memory a bit as to your massage skills, as the moment reminded you directly of that first therapy with Yeji a few months ago.

Damn, time was flying by.

"Mmm, I think someone will have to change the sheets later," Yeji said with a giggle, seeing how soaked everything was beneath the two of them.

"And you're going to help me," you said, putting the bottle of lube aside. "Don't think you're getting off scot-free because you have pretty privileges."

"As long as you fuck us properly we'll never complain, daddy." Rina said, and she brought her arms together a little to press her pair of oily tits together.

"Fuck, it's so easy for her!" Yeji protested, and imitated Rina. She had to bring her arms together a lot more to press her tits together, but she still looked stupidly hot.

"Now who's being the whiny brat?" Rina teased with a giggle, as you straddled her torso.

"You! You almost cried for his cock!"

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the night with Aeri and Rina and how unbearable they had become. The difference was that Yeji was way worse than Aeri.

"If you two start arguing I'm going to the living room to watch Breaking Bad." you said.

"NO!" they both cried in unison, looking at you with puppy dog ​​eyes.

You smiled.

"Good girls."

Rina's tits were at your disposal right below you, and you had lubed up your cock as well. You just had to lean forward a little more, sit down, and slide your shaft between those soft, pale pillows. You moaned immediately. It was a feeling you were never going to get tired of.

"God, it even seems to disappear between them," Yeji sighed, watching as you pumped your shaft in and out of Rina's tits slowly.

"I have to use my good genes for something, don't I?" Rina asked, biting her lip as you squeezed her tits and rubbed your fingers against her nipples as well.

You didn't remember ever trying to fuck Rina's lubed up tits, but if you hadn't, you cursed yourself for never thinking of it. It was such an overwhelmingly amazing feeling that you even entered a little zen moment where you had to close your eyes to keep from exploding right away.

"Feels good, doesn't it daddy?" Rina asked with a moan. “That’s it, use me as you please.”

You reached the maximum speed your hips would allow in record time, pumping in and out of that slippery meat sandwich. But you were forced to stop so you could give Yeji her well-deserved attention.

“Come on baby, you can do a good job too,” you said, now getting on top of Yeji.

You honestly didn’t understand her complaints. It was true that she had to put in more effort than Rina to be able to do the same, but the result was almost as hot to look at and perfect for the task. Putting your cock between her tits didn’t exactly give you the same feeling, as you were missing being wrapped up from above as well. But for that, Yeji used her hands, using them to press her tits together and at the same time catching your cock from above with her fingers.

“Oh fuck, you feel wonderful too, Hwang.” you gasped, moving your hips somewhat quickly from the start.

"Great," she replied between small moans, "because that's the most my modest tits can offer you, honey."

But you didn't need much more, and the lube made everything just perfect. You pumped over and over between Yeji's perky tits, one hand reaching out to the right to grope Rina's tits and slick body, also reaching her pussy from time to time.

When you went back to fuck Rina's tits you repeated the same, now having your left hand squeeze Yeji's tits and moving up and down her flat belly. Without realizing it you lowered your hand a little too much, and ended up between her legs but not to play with her pussy, but with her butthole.

"Mmm, what are you doing daddy?" Yeji asked with a moan, feeling your fingers rubbing her down there. "Starting to feel withdrawal symptoms because of my ass? It's understandable. Two months without fucking it must be hard."

"Do you want to fuck our asses already, daddy?" Rina asked as well, licking your tip every time you pushed your cock forward.

"How do you know?" you replied between labored gasps.

"Because you have a finger inside mine." Yeji said. And it was true, without realizing it you had brought your finger inside her butthole and were pumping it slowly.

"You'll be the first then." you said, and you let go of Rina's tits to get off of her.

You picked Yeji up and laid her on her side, and she automatically pulled her legs up so you could kneel in front of her. Her body had small dry spots, so you took the lube and poured it back on as many parts as you could, including her butthole, which you ended up fingering with two fingers just to get it ready.

Rina went to lay on her side in front of Yeji, getting between her legs so you could put their breasts as close together as possible. They wrapped their arms around each other, rubbing their tits together as they looked at you expectantly. You didn't make Yeji wait. You just grabbed your cock, pressed it against her butthole and pushed forward to get half of it in one motion.

"Oh fuck yes!" Yeji moaned, arms around Rina's head. "And I definitely missed that big cock inside my ass so much!"

You moaned too, focused on getting your whole length inside her as soon as possible. Having achieved that, you put a hand on her waist and decided to give her a fuck worthy of a reunion. Rina did her bit by putting a hand between their bodies and reaching Yeji's pussy, to rub it with the full extent of her palm.

The lube made everything ten times easier. Within seconds there was almost no friction between your cock and Yeji's ass, making the movements smooth and fluid. You took advantage of this to immediately accelerate, pounding her ass and bouncing her tits against Rina's.

"Did you miss my tight little ass daddy? Mmmgh?" Yeji asked between squeals, as Rina quickly fingered her pussy.

"Yes I did." you replied with a grunt, your left hand behind her knee and the other on her ass cheek.

"Then fuck it like your life depended on it." she said, and moaned loudly as Rina moved her wrist faster and made it slam into her pussy.

And so you did for the next minute, hammering her ass with one hand permanently on her ass and thigh and the other varying between squeezing her tits or grabbing her neck. She came in the process, but let you continue fucking her for a few seconds until you suddenly pulled out.

"Now you, Katarina Blu," you said, looking into her eyes.

Rina automatically rolled onto her back and grabbed her legs behind her knees to spread them wide like a good girl. You quickly knelt in front of her, and without much foreplay took your cock into her ass for the second time in 24 hours.

Her ass was so wonderful it felt like another pussy, and a great advantage of fucking it missionary was watching her glistening tits bounce hypnotically as if they had a life of their own. Yeji, quick-witted, pressed herself against the side of her body and took one of her tits into her mouth, sucking that nipple and pinching the other.

With her you of course had to follow the dirty trend, which she loved. You spit in her face several times, choked her, and even slapped her a couple of times that made her clench her teeth in pleasure. Yeji, for her part, had reached between Rina's legs to rub her clit with such frenzy that you swore she was going to set it on fire.

Rina was soon cumming in a violent storm of spasms and moans. Her first instinct was to turn around and meet Yeji's lips to share a sloppy, passionate kiss, while Yeji ran her fingers up and down between her folds. Rina's ass was tight around your cock, but you didn't feel close to cumming yet.

"I'll use your mouths." you warned, but you didn't even give Rina time to respond before you climbed on top of her and buried your cock straight inside her mouth.

Rina didn't complain, instead she grabbed your balls and squeezed them as you pressed your cock against her throat.

"Oh fuck..." Yeji moaned, watching as Rina took you all the way down her throat between cute gagging reflexes. "Daddy, I also-"

But you didn't give her time to say a single word either, because you quickly pulled out of Rina's mouth to penetrate hers. Yeji's eyes widened, and her face scrunched up as you took your cock all the way in. The lack of preparation made her cough and gag even harder than Rina, but within seconds you gave her a break, as you were now going to fuck Katarina's pretty mouth.

You sensed that you had gotten a little too carried away and that you were fucking both of their mouths with less care than you should have, but as you received no stop signal from them, you just continued pumping your cock completely in and out of their mouths, holding their heads and chins to keep them still and making saliva spill everywhere.

After a frantic minute of alternating between mouth and mouth you finally felt close and knelt in the space between them.

"On your hands and knees in front of my cock, now." you ordered, quickly masturbating yourself.

Rina and Yeji quickly complied with the order despite how dizzy the facefucks had left them. The two of them got on their hands and knees, their cute lubricated asses raised. Their faces were now in front of your cock as you rubbed them, and they decided to help by kissing and licking around your tip.

"Paint our pretty little faces, daddy." Yeji moaned, squeezing your balls with one hand.

"We need it." Rina moaned too, giving your tip little sucks.

Within seconds you exploded without even warning. The first drop fell on the sheets, but they quickly closed the gap by pressing their faces together, so that the rest of the jets painted that pair of gorgeous faces with parted lips.

"How warm... fuck." Yeji moaned, drops of cum running down every corner of her face.

"And delicious," Rina added, in exactly the same situation as Yeji.

When your orgasm passed they both took turns eating your cum off each other's faces and also cleaning your cock with slow sucks and licks up and down. So you let yourself fall back to lie down and stare at the ceiling. But soon your view of it was obstructed by Pinky and the Brain.

"Daddy? Tired yet?" they both asked at the same time.

You forced them to let you rest for about ten minutes where you only kissed each other, but you continued fucking for at least two more hours. You fucked both of them doggy style; you fucked Yeji from behind against the wall; you let Rina ride you in reverse while you ate Yeji's pussy; Yeji also rode you but facing you, with Rina fingering her ass from behind. You beat all the records for duration and orgasms that you could beat.

By the end, every bone in your body felt like it had been ground by an industrial steamroller. Yeji and Rina were exhausted too, after you had made them cum at least five more times each. Both of their legs were shaking, and they were shaking badly, so they couldn't help you while you changed the soaked sheets.

Around 1AM you laid down snuggled up under the sheets. You played the big spoon for Rina, cradling her in your arms with her back pressed to your chest, and the little spoon for Yeji, who had her breasts pressed against your back and a shaky leg up against your body.

It would have been one of the best sleeps of your life, if it weren't for the fact that as soon as everything was over and your room was completely silent, your thoughts played tricks on you again and prevented you from falling asleep as quickly as you wanted.

It was a caress on your face from Rina and an affectionate kiss on your back from Yeji that made you calm down until you could finally fall asleep.

BACK TO THAT MORNING.

"Oh my god!" Rina protested, with a little punch on your chest. "Why do you keep hiding things from us!"

"Yeah!" Yeji joined in, tugging on a lock of your hair. "Stop that or I'll kick your fucking ass!"

You smiled even though the tug hurt. But only a little.

"I still hadn't decided what I was going to do yesterday," you said. "But spending the night with you two brightened the way for me. It made me realize that the answer has always been simple."

The two of them stayed silent and looked at you with narrowed eyes and frowns.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Yeji said, confused.

You then told them everything that happened regarding Gunwook and the two possible contracts that had been presented to you. Then you opened your heart a little and told them about how you felt about them and the nice times you had spent together.

"And well... I can't just leave all that behind; it's too precious to me, you literally changed my life for the better." you continued. "So yeah... I'll take the job."

"Wahhh!!" the two of them squealed in happiness, and shook you between kisses.

"Yeah, yeah," you laughed, receiving kisses on both sides of your face. "Besides..." you looked at Rina. "According to Gunwook, Jihye's last request was for me to take good care of all of you. And you know I can't refuse that."

"And you know we're not leaving you alone in this, sweetheart." Rina said, stroking your hair and looking at you with a cute smirk.

"Never." Yeji added, also smiling, and gave you a peck on the cheek.

You hugged each other for another long moment, while you stared at the ceiling with a silly smile on your face. After a minute, however, Rina lifted her head from your chest.

"Wait, does that mean we can stay like this all day?" she asked, unable to hide her excitement.

"Nope," you shook your head softly. "Today marks the start of a new phase in my life, sweetie. A new career!"

"Then that means there's more to celebrate than just your return!" Yeji said, then looked at Rina. "You know what I have in mind, right?"

Rina tilted her head and looked at her with a weak grimace.

"No, unnie, not really." she shook her head. "My head doesn't work in the mornings, much less after fucking all night."

Yeji looked at you and smiled from ear to ear, already excited about what she hadn't even said yet.

"Come to our house next week for a pool party!" she said. "You and the Aespa girls. All five of you are fully invited, and I insist."

"I'm in!" Rina said immediately, a bright smile on her face as well before looking at you. "Come on, say you're in too!"

"You say that like you're going to accept another answer." you chuckled.

"Indeed, we weren't going to accept another answer." Yeji said.

Rina sat up, her bare back facing you.

"Wait a minute," she said. "Will this pool party be anything like Twice's legendary pool parties?"

Twice legendary pool parties? Now that was something you didn’t expect to hear. Literally never.

Yeji laughed and sat up too, and you swore to god you wanted to take a picture of that pair of gorgeous backs covered in gorgeous long hair and frame it.

"I mean, we've never thrown a party on our own," she said. "But Nayeon and Mina unnie have told me a few things. And since you know I'm a competitive bitch... I want to do something even better!"

—-------------------------------

Well, I'm so sorry about all that lol. It was also really fucking hard for me to write, but I promise you that everything has its reason and it will be for the best lol Also, I'm so fucking happy to bring Itzy back. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. MASTERLIST HERE!

[girlrotterr]

⊹ ⠀࣪ She's thinking about me every night, oh! ⠀ ࣪˖

✧ ⁺˳ loser!ellie x stripper!reader headcanons! ֹ　 a/n: first attempt at headcanons!! soo this may be a little jumbled but I absolutely loved making this!!

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who swears it’s the last time she’s coming to see you because she can’t risk embarrassing herself again. But the moment she remembers the rhythm of your body, her mind drifts, and suddenly she’s back at the club, dollar in hand, cheeks warm as she recalls the tiny, breathless “Hello..” she squeaked out the last time. Before she knows it, she’s there again, telling herself it’s just one more time.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who’s made herself a regular at the club, nervously occupying the same table every night, hoping for just a glimpse of you. But her dorkiness draws attention; other dancers lean over, offering her dances with winks and playful smiles. She goes stiff, almost panicking, stuttering, “Oh, no—I mean, no, thank you,” glancing toward the stage, desperate for you to see that she’s loyal to one person only. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s just one dance.” Too polite to shut them down, she mumbles, “I, um…no, sorry,” rubbing the back of her neck and avoiding eye contact like her life depends on it. “I’m, like… kinda into someone already,” her voice is so quiet that the other dancers smirk, teasing her about her crush. She turns bright red, waving them off, mumbling, “It’s…not like that,” even as her eyes drift to the stage. 

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who can’t help but stare when you’re on stage, entranced by every movement, forgetting herself so completely that she grips the edge of her seat, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. The second you look her way, though, her cheeks flush crimson, and she fumbles over her drink, trying to play it cool, but you see it—the way she’s completely, hopelessly hooked on you.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie  whenever she thinks she’ll act smooth next time, she ends up a flustered mess. Her hand trembles midair as she finally gathers the courage to slip a dollar between your thong; the moment their fingers brush, her eyes go wide, and she swears her heart might actually stop.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who tries to mutter something cool under her breath, like “you’re so sexy,” but it comes out so soft and awkward that you have to lean in to hear her. Your knowing smile makes her cheeks heat up even more. 

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who barely finishes her shift at her part-time job before she’s rushing to her phone, pulling up her bank app to see if her paycheck hit. The second she sees it’s in, she’s already thinking about all the ways she can spend it on you. She might be broke for the next two weeks, but the thought of seeing your face light up is enough to keep her going.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie hyping herself up by imagining what she’ll surprise you with next. The moment her shift’s over, she’s browsing for little things you’d love: those fancy earrings you mentioned once, a necklace she thinks would look perfect on you, or that one bottle of perfume she remembers you ran out of. By the time she’s done, she’s practically holding an empty wallet, but she doesn’t even care.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who shows up at the club with a nervous grin and a freshly wrapped gift just for you, stuffed in a little paper bag she decorated herself to save money. She’s a bit embarrassed handing it to you, mumbling, “It’s nothing fancy,” but her heart’s racing as she watches you unwrap it. Every time you gasp or smile, her face lights up even brighter, totally worth every last cent.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who sits at home counting change, literally living off instant ramen, but with zero regrets because she already spent her last dollars on that pair of heels you were obsessing over. She pictures you wearing them, looking absolutely incredible, and can’t wait for your next dance. Even though she’s practically starving, she figures seeing you in them will more than make up for it.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who can’t even afford the gas to drive herself home but still manages to slip a folded bill to you at the club, the look on her face a mixture of pride and shyness as she mutters, “Just…y’know, for you.” It’s her last dollar, but when you smile and lean in to thank her, she’s practically glowing, whispering to herself that she’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who hypes herself up to ask you out after your shift, but when she sees you coming her way, her mind goes blank. “You’re, like… really good at…” she blurts out, regretting it the instant it leaves her lips. Blushing hard, she watches you raise a brow, her heart racing as she shuffles awkwardly on the spot. But when you smile at her, she’s secretly thrilled.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie dresses in a rotation of baggy jeans that hang a little low on her hips, with boxers peeking out and a series of painfully awkward T-shirts proclaiming phrases like “Raw Sex” or “Big Dick Is Back In Town” in bold, obnoxious letters. She strolls in with her half-tucked T-shirt, completely unaware of how ridiculous she looks, thinking they make her seem cool.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who tries to keep her composure as you eye her stupid shirt, but the blush creeping up her neck gives her away. She fumbles, wishing she’d worn anything else, but it’s too late. You lean in, whispering, “Nice shirt,” and Ellie is left a red-faced mess, speechless, trying to figure out if you’re making fun of her or if you actually think it’s… well, nice. “It was laundry day…” She fidgets nervously with the hem of her shirt, tugging it down to cover the waistband of her jeans, as if you won’t notice the bold letters across her chest.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie  who goes completely stiff when you slide onto her lap, her eyes wide as she tries to figure out where to put her hands without losing her mind. Her palms are already clammy, and she stares up at you, clearly overwhelmed, the tips of her fingers hovering, barely daring to graze you. As you lean closer, brushing your chest against her, she bites her lip to keep from making a sound, her breath catching. When you take her hand and guide it to your waist, she’s sure you can feel her fingers trembling, cold against your skin. You whisper something teasing in her ear, and she’s suddenly even more nervous, her pulse racing as she clings to your words.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie who’s a flustered, shaky mess when her fingertips brush the soft skin , cheeks flushed red as she tries to avoid looking too overwhelmed. You can feel her hands flex slightly, as if she’s afraid to grip you too tightly and ruin the moment. Every little movement from you has her body tensing, her fingers trailing tentatively over you, and the way she’s practically holding her breath gives her away. When her fingers graze your ass, she flinches, almost pulling back, but your playful smile makes her stay put.

⋆  ⁺  ∿ Loser!Ellie whose cheeks are flushed, and she can barely make eye contact, her voice a hoarse whisper as she mumbles, “I—I don’t usually… um..” When you rest your hands on her shoulders, guiding her hands more firmly around you, her fingertips sink into your waist, icy and shaky. She tries to lean in like she knows what she’s doing, only for you to kiss her neck, leaving her a quivering mess. She tilts her head back, giving you full access, her breath hitching audibly, and she prays you don’t tease her about it. But you do, whispering against her ear, making her shift in her seat as her face flushes an even deeper shade of pink, almost whining in response.

[pucksandpower]

Perfect Fit

Day 5 → Size Difference 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You sure she doesn’t snap in half when you’re together?” Lando’s voice rings out over the steady hum of the paddock, casual, like he’s asking about the weather.

Oscar’s head jerks up, his eyebrows knitting together. “What?”

“You know …” Lando gestures vaguely with his hand, as if the meaning will somehow fill the air between them. “You and her. She’s, like, tiny. Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

Oscar frowns, confused for a second before the meaning of Lando’s words sinks in. Lando is grinning like he’s delivered the world’s best punchline, but something twists in Oscar’s chest. The words linger. Too long.

“Mate, seriously?” Oscar scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but there’s an odd tension in his voice. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Lando shrugs, all casual, like he hasn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “Just making conversation. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Oscar doesn’t respond, choosing instead to shove Lando lightly in the shoulder, pushing past him. His heart beats a little too fast, and he finds himself suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of Lando’s comment.

He tries to shake it off, but the thought is like an itch at the back of his mind, one he can’t quite reach to scratch. Size. How could he have never noticed it before? Of course, he knew you were smaller — he had to lean down to kiss you, had to watch his step to not bowl you over in tight spaces. But he’d never really thought about it. Not like that.

Now, though … now he can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

Later that evening, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through some magazine, while he stands in the kitchen, mindlessly sipping from a water bottle. His eyes keep drifting over to you, studying the way you’re curled up. Small, Lando’s words repeat in his head. So much smaller.

You glance up and catch him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. You squint, unconvinced.

“Oscar,” you say, drawing out his name like you’re prying for a confession. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.

You set the magazine down, leaning back against the cushions. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

Oscar clears his throat, still not moving from his spot by the counter. “It’s not — I mean, Lando said something stupid earlier.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lando always says stupid things.”

He chuckles, but the sound is half-hearted. “Yeah, but this was, like, extra stupid.”

“What’d he say?”

Oscar hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, really.”

“Now you have to tell me,” you say, tilting your head, that teasing smile starting to curl at your lips. You always get that look when you know he’s holding something back, and he knows you won’t let it go until he spills.

He sighs, finally pushing away from the counter and walking over to sit beside you on the couch. “It’s just … he made some joke about, uh … about our size difference.”

Your brows furrow. “What about it?”

Oscar pauses, trying to find the right words. “He basically said … I don’t know. That it must be … hard. You know, because you’re, uh, smaller than me.”

Your lips press together, a faint blush creeping up your neck as the meaning hits. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oscar lets out a breath, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “I didn’t think much of it at first, but now I can’t stop … noticing it.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the kind that feels heavier than usual.

You swallow, shifting a little on the couch to face him. “Is it weird for you?” You ask quietly. “Our size difference?”

Oscar’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “No — no, it’s not weird. It’s not like that. I’ve just … I never really thought about it before. And now it’s in my head.”

“So it’s in your head that I’m small?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath it.

He laughs softly. “It’s not just that you’re small. It’s … everything. Like, I never thought about how I have to be careful with you. When I hold you, or when we’re … close.”

You tilt your head, curious. “You don’t think about it when we’re close?”

“I mean, I think about it,” he admits, his voice dropping. “But not in a bad way. I just-” He falters, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty, the vulnerability that’s starting to seep through the cracks. You reach out, placing a hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oscar.”

“I know that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But I guess … sometimes I just worry that I might. Without meaning to.”

The air feels thick between you, charged with something unsaid. You chew on your bottom lip, considering his words, the way he’s looking at you now — like he’s seeing you in a new light, or maybe just realizing something that’s been there all along.

“I don’t mind that we’re different sizes,” you say quietly, and your voice is sincere, even if there’s an underlying nervousness. “I actually … I like it.”

Oscar’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, your hand still resting on his knee. “I like that you’re taller, and that you can hold me, and that I feel … safe with you.”

Something shifts in Oscar’s expression. It’s subtle, but you see the way his shoulders relax, the tension that’s been building all evening starting to fade away. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel safe with me?”

“Of course I do,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re … I don’t know. You’re so careful with me. I can feel it when we’re together.”

Oscar’s hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “I just … I don’t want to screw this up,” he admits, his voice raw. “I care about you too much to mess this up.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. “You’re not messing anything up, Oscar. You’re being … you.”

He leans in closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. “I don’t want to be weird about this,” he says softly. “But after Lando’s stupid comment, it’s like … it’s stuck in my head. And now I’m overthinking everything.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking it because Lando’s an idiot.”

Oscar laughs too, the sound breaking the tension a little. “Yeah, he really is.”

You shift a little closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “You don’t need to worry about our size difference,” you say gently. “I don’t.”

He nods, though there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s just … I’ve never been with someone who’s, like … so much smaller than me. I don’t want to … I don’t know, hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “I trust you, Oscar. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”

Oscar’s eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to find some reassurance in your words, something to silence the doubts that Lando’s careless joke planted in his mind. Slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away — the worries, the overthinking, the stupid comments.

It’s just the two of you, and in that kiss, there’s no size difference, no hesitation. Just you and him, connected in a way that feels effortless.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady. “You’re sure?” He whispers, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile, your hand finding his. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Oscar lets out a breath, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

The tension between you melts away, replaced by a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that wasn’t spoken but was felt in every word, every touch. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, as if to prove to himself that he can hold you without worry.

And for the first time since Lando’s stupid joke, Oscar doesn’t think about the size difference. He just thinks about you, and how perfectly you fit in his arms.

***

As you and Oscar walk through the doors of your hotel suite, the adrenaline from the day still buzzes between you both. The aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix win feels almost surreal, hanging in the air between his excited glances and your proud smiles.

Oscar drops his race gear bag on the floor, exhaling loudly as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I still can’t believe it. I actually won.”

You grin, closing the door behind you. “I told you, didn’t I? You’ve been ready for this. You’ve always been ready.”

He turns toward you, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip. He looks different tonight — his usual quiet confidence magnified by the thrill of victory. There’s a hunger in his gaze, something deeper than just excitement for the race.

“It feels … different now,” he admits, stepping closer. “Like, I knew I could win, but doing it? Crossing that line first? Hearing the crowd?” He trails off, his eyes locking on yours, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears.

You step closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “You were incredible out there.”

Oscar’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the race, I just wanted to get back here. With you.”

You bite your lip, the tension between you sparking to life. There’s something in the air tonight, something that feels inevitable. The closeness, the energy — it’s all leading somewhere.

Oscar’s lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I need you,” he whispers, the rawness of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your response is immediate, instinctual. “Then take me.”

His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and heated, and suddenly, all the restraint he’s ever shown around you evaporates. His hands are everywhere — on your waist, in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can’t stand the space between you. You’re breathless as he backs you up toward the bed, his kisses growing more fervent, more desperate.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Oscar pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something deeper than you’ve seen before. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. “I don’t want to rush this.”

You’re already reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The sight of his bare chest, muscles taut and glistening under the dim hotel lights, makes your stomach flip. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but tonight it feels different. He’s yours tonight.

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing over your hips, lifting your shirt just enough to slide his hands underneath.

You shiver at the contact, leaning into him as he slowly works your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His hands linger on your skin, tracing patterns that leave your skin tingling.

As his fingers move to unbutton your jeans, Oscar hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to … hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

You shake your head, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. Oscar quickly strips you of your jeans, his hands trailing up and down your thighs, his gaze fixed on you like you’re the most important thing in the world. And then, for a moment, he pauses.

His eyes drop lower, and when he sees you in nothing but your underwear, something primal flashes across his face. You can see the shift in him — the boyish uncertainty replaced by something darker, more insistent.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. His hands tremble slightly as he runs them over your hips, then slowly slides your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare, exposed for him, seems to steal his breath.

You reach out, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Oscar quickly complies, undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down. But when he finally kicks them off, and his boxers follow, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He’s … big. Much bigger than you expected. The sight of him has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement flooding through you.

His size suddenly makes Lando’s stupid joke replay in your head, but instead of fear, you feel a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. The sight of him, hard and ready, only makes you want him more.

But Oscar hesitates, his eyes darting between you and himself, concern flickering in his expression. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, his voice more serious now. “You’re so … small.”

Your lips part, a flush creeping up your neck. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure, but the truth slips out before you can stop it. “I can take it,” you whisper, your voice shaking with need. “I want it.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems at a loss for words. His hands shake slightly as they slide up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs. He takes his time, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours as he eases a finger inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing for a moment before you relax into his touch. “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, your voice breathless. “Please, Oscar. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He adds another finger, his movements slow and steady as he works you open, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe beneath him. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you try to hold on to the edge of your sanity.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you breathe, though your voice is shaky with both nerves and desire.

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continues to stretch you with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, his voice a mix of concern and restraint.

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. “I know. But I want you, Oscar. I want all of you.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he pauses, as if weighing the gravity of what’s about to happen. But then he nods, his eyes locking on yours as he finally positions himself between your legs. His hands grip your hips, his touch firm but gentle.

“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

Oscar takes a deep breath, and then, slowly — agonizingly slowly — he begins to push inside you. The stretch is immediate, and your body tenses as you feel the overwhelming pressure of him filling you. It’s more than you expected — more than you’ve ever felt before. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s too much.

Oscar freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head quickly, though your breath is shaky. “It’s just … a lot. But I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He bites his lip, clearly unsure, but he keeps going, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. The sensation is intense — painful at first, but as your body adjusts, the pain quickly morphs into something else. Something deeper. Something euphoric.

Oscar is still, hovering above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. “God, you’re … you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can feel … I can see it …”

You look down, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the outline of him, pressing against your lower stomach, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Oscar’s eyes are glued to the sight as well, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Holy … I can see myself inside you,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe. “I’m not hurting you?”

You shake your head, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “No. It feels … it feels incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes darkening as he slowly pulls back, only to push into you again, the movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, but growing more urgent as the pleasure builds between you.

Oscar’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes never leaving the sight of himself inside you. “You’re so … perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His movements grow more desperate, the tension between you building to an almost unbearable intensity. Your body is on fire, every nerve alight as he fills you completely. You can feel him so deep, every inch of him stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced before.

And then, just as the pressure becomes too much, you tip over the edge.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, muscles tightening and pulsing in rhythmic waves. The pleasure is blinding, sharp, your breath hitching as you cry out his name. You’ve never felt anything like it, the intensity of the release leaving you shaking beneath him, your legs trembling as you clutch at his shoulders.

The sudden tightening of your body around him pulls a deep groan from Oscar’s throat, and you feel him lose control. His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he buries himself inside you one last time. His jaw clenches, his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rips through him. His release is overwhelming — hot and thick, spilling into you with an intensity that leaves you both breathless.

Oscar collapses against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he gasps for air. You can feel him still twitching inside you, the last remnants of his orgasm making him shudder against your body. He’s still buried deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you so completely it almost feels unreal.

You’re both silent for a moment, just breathing together, the weight of what just happened settling between you. Then, slowly, Oscar lifts his head, his eyes hazy and dazed as he looks down at you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his voice rough, concern flickering in his eyes even as he struggles to catch his breath.

You nod, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “I’m more than okay.”

His gaze softens, and his hand moves down to your stomach, where you can feel an odd fullness, a strange weight that wasn’t there before. His palm rests over your belly, and when you both look down, you see it — the way your stomach has a slight bulge, rounded out from how much he’s filled you.

Oscar’s eyes widen, his hand pressing down gently as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I … did I do that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as you nod. “I think so.”

A low groan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of your swollen belly. “Jesus … that’s … fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over the small bump.

His obsession with it sends a new wave of heat through you. The feeling of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, is intoxicating. You reach down, covering his hand with yours, pressing it harder against your belly. “You like it?” You ask, teasingly, though you already know the answer.

Oscar’s eyes flash up to yours, dark and filled with something primal. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t … I can’t stop looking at it.”

He keeps rubbing your belly, his fingers tracing over the slight rise, his gaze fixed on the way your body holds all of him. You shiver beneath his touch, the sensation of his hand against your skin sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel him starting to soften inside you, but there’s still a delicious fullness that leaves you squirming, your body craving more despite how completely wrecked you feel.

Oscar seems to notice, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand trails lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit. You gasp, your body jerking in response, and he smiles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“You’re still sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “I can feel it.”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continues to tease you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Oscar …” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can …”

But you can. The tension in your body builds again so quickly, it’s almost dizzying. His touch is relentless, his thumb rubbing slow, firm circles that drive you insane. The combination of the fullness in your belly and the stimulation at your core is overwhelming, your body teetering on the edge of another orgasm before you can even process it.

“I can feel how tight you still are,” Oscar whispers, his voice husky as he watches you squirm beneath him. “God, you’re so perfect.”

His words, his touch, the sight of him above you — it’s all too much. Your body arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips as you fall over the edge again, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful as your muscles contract around him, your body shaking with the force of it.

Oscar groans, his hand still rubbing slow circles over your belly as he watches you come undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You gasp for air, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure slowly subside, leaving you feeling utterly spent. Oscar finally stops his teasing, his hand still resting on your belly as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, his voice gentle, almost tender.

You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “Yeah … more than okay.”

He chuckles softly, shifting his weight to lie beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. His hand remains on your belly, though, still fascinated by the slight swell he’s caused.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I’m the lucky one,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection for him.

For a while, you both just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling in. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the quiet intimacy of being together after something so intense.

Oscar’s hand continues to rub slow, soothing circles over your belly, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward sleep, your body completely relaxed and satisfied. Just before you drift off, you hear Oscar’s soft voice in your ear, filled with quiet wonder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how perfectly you fit me.”

And in that moment, you know that nothing has ever felt more right.

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft rays of sunlight across the hotel room. You stir in the bed, blinking your eyes open, the haze of sleep still thick in your mind. As you stretch, your entire body reminds you of the events from the night before. Every muscle feels heavy, a delicious soreness radiating from deep within you. You smile to yourself, the memory of Oscar’s hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Your bladder protests, urging you out of bed, but as soon as you shift to swing your legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of soreness runs up your thighs. You pause, blinking in confusion, then try again — more gingerly this time. Your legs are stiff, the muscles weak and uncooperative as you push yourself to stand.

You barely make it two steps before your legs give out beneath you.

The floor rushes up to meet you, and with a soft thud, you crumple into a heap on the carpet. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, and before you can process what’s happened, Oscar is jolting awake beside you.

“Shit — what was that?” He mumbles groggily, but the second he sees you on the floor, his eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He’s out of bed in an instant, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders as he kneels next to you. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, though your body feels like it’s been through a marathon. “I’m fine, I just …” You bite your lip, wincing as you try to shift. “I guess my legs don’t really work right now.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in concern, and he gently lifts you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you back to the bed like you weigh nothing. “What do you mean your legs don’t work?” His voice is tight, laced with worry, and he lays you down carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll break.

You groan softly as you sink back into the mattress, your legs still trembling from the effort. “I’m just … really sore. Like, everywhere.”

Oscar’s face pales, and you can see the guilt washing over him in an instant. “Oh my God, I hurt you, didn’t I?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hands hovering over you as if he’s afraid to touch you again. “I knew I was too rough. I knew I was too big. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, no,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “It’s not like that. I’m just sore from … you know.” You feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small smile. “It’s a good kind of sore.”

Oscar shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “No, no, this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s strained as you shift slightly in bed. “Oscar, I’m fine. Really. I feel amazing, actually. This is just … the aftermath.” You wiggle your toes experimentally, and while the soreness is still there, it’s more of a reminder of the pleasure you felt last night than actual pain.

Oscar isn’t convinced. He sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “You couldn’t even walk this morning because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache, and you sit up slowly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oscar, you didn’t hurt me,” you say softly. “You made me feel incredible. Yes, I’m sore, but it’s because of how good it was. Not because you did anything wrong.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, you literally fell out of bed.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “Yeah, well … maybe that’s just proof of how well you did.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, but the worry still lingers. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shake your head, your hand moving to rest on his thigh. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before, Oscar. You didn’t hurt me — you made me feel alive.”

His expression softens at your words, but you can still see the guilt etched in the lines of his face. He exhales slowly, his hand covering yours on his thigh. “I just … I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel like you can’t even move the next day.”

“Well,” you say, biting your lip playfully, “if it’s the kind of thing that leaves me this sore, I think I could get used to it.” You wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Oscar’s eyes widen, and he groans.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

You laugh softly, wincing at the tightness in your hips as you shift again. “I mean, there are worse ways to be sore. Besides, this is kind of your fault. You can make it up to me.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in confusion. “How?”

You give him a mischievous look. “By doing it all over again and making sure I can never walk properly again.”

He blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “You’re joking, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I — but … you’re already sore.”

You lean back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. “Exactly. So you might as well make it count.”

For a second, he’s speechless. Then, his lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”

You nod, biting your lip to hide your grin. “Very.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and you can see the tension start to melt away from his shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrug, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a high pain tolerance. Besides, I think I deserve a little reward after surviving last night, don’t you?”

Oscar’s smile fades slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief. “You’re really okay?”

You nod, your hand squeezing his thigh again. “More than okay, Oscar. I’m serious — I want you again. Even if it leaves me sore for a week.”

His expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You grin up at him. “I try.”

Oscar’s hand trails down your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as if testing how much you can handle. “I don’t want to push you too hard,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple.

“You’re not pushing me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want this.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his hand moving lower, tracing over your stomach and down between your legs. The touch is featherlight, testing, but even that small contact sends a shiver through your body.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oscar says, his voice low and serious, but you can already feel the heat building between you again, and the soreness fades into the background of your mind, overwhelmed by the need rising in you.

“I will,” you breathe, already arching into his touch.

Oscar’s lips find yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more urgent as the tension between you sparks back to life. His hand slides lower, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel yourself growing wet again, your body responding to him despite the lingering ache.

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. “You really want to do this again?”

You nod, breathless. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for Oscar to give in. He shifts above you, his body pressing against yours as he positions himself between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, familiar, and despite the soreness, you crave the feeling of him filling you again.

Oscar moves slowly, carefully, but the stretch is just as intense as last night. You gasp as he pushes inside, your body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, but it’s not painful this time — just overwhelming in the best way.

“Oh my God,” Oscar groans, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pushes deeper. “You’re still so tight.”

You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he moves inside you, the pleasure building quickly despite the soreness in your muscles. The mix of discomfort and ecstasy is intoxicating, and soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind blank except for the sensation of him filling you completely.

Oscar’s hands grip your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he finds his rhythm. You can tell he’s holding back, trying not to hurt you, but even with the restraint, the intensity of it all has you teetering on the edge again.

“You’re so perfect,” Oscar murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You shudder beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel yourself nearing the edge once again. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, your body arching into his as the pleasure coils tight inside you, threatening to snap.

Oscar groans in response, his pace picking up, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until you're barely holding on. You can feel the intensity building between you, the friction, the connection driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tighter, his breath hot against your neck as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good. I could do this forever.”

The words send a thrill through you, and you grip him harder, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Oscar,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure inside you mounts, overwhelming, unstoppable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he drives into you again, deeper than before. “Come for me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. His words send you spiraling, your body clenching around him as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You cry out, your legs trembling, your hands gripping him as tight as you can, pulling him closer as your entire body shakes with the force of your release.

Oscar groans as your body tightens around him, his control slipping as he watches you fall apart beneath him. His rhythm falters, then he pushes deep one last time, his release hitting with a shudder as he spills inside you. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself over you, the weight of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Oscar collapses against you, his head resting on your chest as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips as the warmth of his body soothes your soreness.

After a long silence, he finally speaks, his voice soft and a little shaky. “You … okay?”

You laugh softly, your body feeling like it’s been thoroughly worked over, but in the best way possible. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his hair back. “More than okay.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with affection but also a hint of lingering concern. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”

He relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You hum in contentment, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all. “Just make sure I can walk by tomorrow, okay?”

Oscar chuckles, his hand trailing down to your hip as he pulls you close. “No promises.”

***

Oscar steps out of the car first, scanning the airstrip where McLaren’s private jet waits. His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. The morning sun is harsh, casting long shadows on the tarmac, but his focus is entirely on you. He turns back, opening the car door carefully, like he’s preparing for something delicate.

You wince as you try to swing your legs out of the car. The soreness from last night has reached a whole new level, and every movement feels like your muscles are made of lead. You’d tried standing when you first woke up, but it was a no-go. Now, as you attempt to shift out of the car, it’s confirmed: you really can’t walk.

Oscar leans down, his hands gently coming to rest on your hips. “Ready?” His voice is soft, a little sheepish, like he’s still not over the guilt from earlier.

“Do I have a choice?” You joke, though your body aches in a way that’s both painful and satisfying, a reminder of last night’s passion.

He gives you a small smile, his eyes soft as he reaches under your knees and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest as he straightens up.

“Okay, this is officially ridiculous,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

Oscar chuckles, holding you close. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make sure you couldn’t walk properly again.”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”

He grins, but you can see the hint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Too late now. Besides, I think I might enjoy this.”

“You enjoy having to carry me across an airstrip in front of your entire team?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light, though you know it’s about to get a lot more embarrassing once people start noticing.

Oscar shrugs, shifting you slightly in his arms as he starts walking toward the jet. “I enjoy taking care of you.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your earlier embarrassment fading. He’s so earnest, so gentle, even now, and it’s hard to feel anything but safe in his arms.

As you near the jet, you can already see the crew milling around, loading luggage and prepping for departure. And, of course, Lando is leaning casually against the stairs leading up to the plane, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as soon as he spots the two of you.

“Well, well, well,” Lando calls out, his voice full of teasing glee. “What do we have here? Oscar playing the hero?”

You groan softly, burying your face in Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please no,” you mutter under your breath.

Oscar doesn’t slow down as he approaches, though you can feel his body tense slightly. He’s protective, even if he’s trying to laugh it off. “Don’t start, Lando,” he warns, though there’s a playful edge to his voice.

But Lando’s never been one to back off, especially when there’s an opportunity to tease his teammate. He pushes off the stairs and stands directly in front of you two, hands on his hips. “What, did she trip or something? Or is this …” He pauses dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Is this because of Sunday night?”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. You’ve had your fair share of teasing from Lando before, but this — this is next-level mortifying. Oscar adjusts his hold on you slightly, and you can feel the subtle tightening of his grip, like he’s shielding you from whatever’s coming.

“Lando,” Oscar says, his tone warning, but not harsh. “Seriously.”

But Lando’s not done. His eyes dart between you and Oscar, and his grin widens. “Wait — wait. Hold on. Is she not able to walk?”

You don’t say anything, but your silence must be enough because Lando’s grin fades, replaced by a look of genuine shock. “Oh my God. You’re actually serious.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he shifts you in his arms again, turning slightly like he’s ready to move past Lando and end this conversation. But Lando steps closer, his playful demeanor slipping into something more serious as he realizes the situation is … real.

“Mate,” Lando says, his voice lower now, almost incredulous. “Did you … I mean, you didn’t-”

“No,” Oscar cuts him off quickly, his voice firm but not defensive. “I didn’t hurt her.”

You peek out from Oscar’s shoulder, meeting Lando’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m fine,” you add, trying to inject some normalcy back into the situation. “It’s just … you know.”

Lando’s brows shoot up. “I really don’t know.”

You laugh softly despite yourself. “Well, I’m not hurt. Just … sore.”

Lando’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words, but for once, he’s speechless. He glances between you and Oscar, and then shakes his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“I mean, I’ve heard of being ‘swept off your feet,’ but this …” Lando trails off, his eyes flicking down to your legs, which you’re certain look completely useless at this point. “This is next level.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You done?”

Lando lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — next time, maybe leave her able to walk? Just a suggestion.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please make him stop.”

Oscar chuckles, squeezing you gently. “Lando, I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to drop her on you.”

Lando steps aside, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. But seriously,” he adds, glancing at you with a smirk. “You two should probably invest in some crutches.”

You shoot him a withering look, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re not funny.”

“I disagree,” Lando grins. “I’m hilarious.”

Oscar shakes his head, moving past Lando and toward the stairs. As he climbs up, still carrying you effortlessly, you whisper, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Probably not.”

By the time he settles you down in one of the plush seats on the jet, the soreness in your legs has turned into a dull throb. You sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh, stretching out as much as you can without wincing. Oscar sits beside you, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, a silent check-in.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again, his brow still slightly furrowed.

“I promise,” you say, reaching for his hand. “I mean, yes, I probably won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but it’s worth it.”

Oscar gives you a lopsided smile, but the concern doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d actually-”

You cut him off, squeezing his hand. “Oscar, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m the one who asked for it.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Still.”

You lean closer, brushing your lips against his. “It was perfect,” you murmur softly. “You’re perfect.”

He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his body as he leans into your kiss. “If you say so.”

“I do,” you whisper against his lips, then lean back with a grin. “Now, how are you going to carry me once we land?”

Oscar laughs, a sound that’s light and warm. “I’ll figure it out.”

From across the aisle, Lando chimes in, “Just get a wheelchair. Might be worth the investment if this is going to be a common occurrence.”

You throw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Lando.”

But deep down, despite the teasing and the soreness, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.