#And Art slapping himself when he made a mistake...

[in-restless-walks]

Simon & Garfunkel - Think Too Much

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

can I request ‘accidentally calling the other wife/husband’ for lando please 🥹

girlfriend? wife? ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Prompt: 63. accidentally calling the other wife/husband

𓆉 ln x reader 𐙚

𓆉 fluff 𐙚

masterlist ☾☼

1. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

just as the car reached the hotel, lando immediately held your hand. there were crowds of people on both sides, restricted by a barricade.

"you know what to do, right?" he asked you, softly.

"yes, lovie. we've done this hundreds of times before," you replied, unable to keep the smile hidden.

"i know, i know. i just worry. ever since my tiktok started showing me all those videos of celebrities getting attacked, i've been paranoid,"

"i'm aware. you forget, though, that you're the celebrity,"

lando tsked, "half the time, these people talk to me about you. the only reason they're fans of me is because of you,"

you laughed, and lando opened the door, stepping out. you followed. immediately, you walked inside the hotel with your head down, and watched lando from inside the safety of the hotel.

lando was taking his time and signing whatever was getting shoved in his face, smiling and interacting with a few of the fans as well. he took selfies, marvelled at the nail art that some of them had done, had brief discussions about tattoo designs for the fan. he loved it.

somewhere between the cheers of the fans, lando looked at the hotel entrance, searching for you. when he couldn't see you, he pouted, whispering to himself, "where's my wifey?"

the fans nearby heard him, and began cheering louder. lando's eyes widened as he realised his mistake.

well, fuck.

2. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

they had another mini break after singapore. the team were all gathered at the mtc, just reviewing the past few races, and discussing what they were planning for the upcoming races.

zak and andrea had given speeches, as were expected, and then oscar and lando were called on stage as well.

oscar gave his speech first, though, it was just him thanking the team, andrea, zak, and lando, and how he was grateful for all their help in hungary and baku especially.

then, it was lando's turn.

"i think, oscar summed it up pretty well, actually. nothing left for me to say."

people laughed.

"um, yeah, no, i'm really thankful for all the hardwork that every person in this room has done. i mean, like oscar said, it wouldn't have been possible with any of y'all. our wins are yours, because really, we just go out and drive. everything else is all you," he said, gesturing to the room full of people.

"and, while i am so happy to be able to work with all of you, i really need to give special mentions to andrea, zak, oscar, jon, my mechanics, my wife-"

the crowd burst out in teasing "ooohs" and lando slapped a hand over his eyes as he laughed.

"we're not married yet. i keep doing that. we're not married yet. besides, when we get married, i'd call all of you. most of you. some. no, all." lando broke off again, as the crowd laughed.

he turned towards his girlfriend, and said, "babe, i've made a commitment now. we gotta have a huge wedding,"

everyone laughed again, including you.

"i'm gonna go bankrupt with so many people at the wedding,"

people continued laughing.

"how about this, the reception would be from mclaren?" zak said, wrapping an arm around lando's shoulders as he laughed.

"oh, how nice of you, zak,"

"no! it's gonna be all papaya! i'm not getting married in papaya colours!" you shouted from the side, smiling.

"huh? it's gonna be all papaya? well, babe, we gotta make sacrifices here," lando said.

the laughs of everyone mixed together, and eventually, lando composed himself enough to continue his speech.

3. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

max was streaming on twitch. he wasn't doing anything in particular, really. he was just there, chatting with the chat, but mostly talking to lando who was sprawled on the bed behind him.

niran was on his way to max's apartment, and max and lando were just patiently waiting for their friend.

max began reading some of the comments in the chat, and responding, when one of them caught his eye.

"who is lando texting so angrily?" max read out loud. he turned and looked at his friend, who was still quickly typing on his phone.

"mate, who are you texting?" max asked, watching lando's concentrated face.

"the wifey," lando mumbled.

immediately, max turned to the chat and said, "he's not married! he's a dumbass who gets words mixed up! they're still only dating!"

"huh?" lando looked up, confused.

"you called her your wife." max explained.

lando groaned, "it keeps happening, i don't even know why,"

"right, cause that makes so much sense. what are you fighting with her about anyway?" he asked.

lando looked at his friend, confused, "we're not fighting,"

"then why do you look so mad?"

"do i? we were just planning our trip next month, and i was focused on that," lando revealed.

"that makes sense. do y'all fight though?"

lando's attention was back at his phone as he began typing again, "no. i do something stupid, she yells at me, i apologise,"

"what if she does something stupid?" max asked.

lando looked up from his phone, and the two best friends stare at each other for a few seconds before they burst out laughing. lando rolled on the bed as he laughed, and max fell off his chair.

the chat buzzed, trying to figure out what was so funny, but max and lando couldn't stop laughing.

"what if she does something stupid? oh, max, that was the funniest shit you've ever said," lando laughed.

"i knew it the moment i said it," max responded through his laughter.

"the only stupid thing she does is me," lando said, calming down a little.

"oh, for fuck's sake, lando!" max yelled at him, making him dissolve into laughter again.

+

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

lando was sweating, his cap on his head was hiding the mess that his curls had become. he ran a hand through his face to wipe off the excess sweat as he paid attention to the question.

"so, lando, first pole position of the season in the very first race. how do you feel about that?" the interviewer asked.

"um, i mean, i feel good about it, obviously. seems like a good start, honestly, and the car is working beautifully, so i have no complaints there. it all just comes down to me, really," he said, grabbing his water bottle.

"that's good to here. do you think you'll be able to win tomorrow?"

"that's- uh, that's hard to say. i mean, we've got competition from both ferraris, and then there's max and george, who are also excellent drivers, so its hard to say. our goal for today was a pole, and our goal for tomorrow is a podium, if not a win,"

"right. and, who do we have with you as a support for the first race of the season?" the interviewer took a lighter tone, and lando immediately smiled.

"i've got my family here, a few of my friends who could come down here, and i've got my girlfriend," he responded.

"that's beauti-"

"no, wait. my wife. my girlfriend. no, my wife, my wife. i've been so used to calling her my girlfriend in public and my wife in my head that i keep getting them mixed up," lando laughed, holding his left hand up where his wedding ring glimmered.

"oh yes! you got married at the start of this year!"

"yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. finally married her, and then got her to sign the license. burned it the next day so there's no way she can divorce me now. we're stuck together for life," lando said, making the interviewer laugh.

"it's a beautiful wedding band," the interviewer complimented.

lando put his hand up again, showing the ring to the camera, "right? she picked it. she has amazing taste in stuff like this, i can't even tell you. she's just perfect, man,"

"alright, well, it's nice to see you in such good spirits! crush it tomorrow, yeah?" the interviewer said.

"for her? anything," lando said, scoffing, as if the mere thought of him not doing anything for his wife was just plain stupid.

the interviewer laughed again, as lando walked away.

𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

honestly, one of my favourite things i've ever written. i hope i've done justice to the prompt, anon! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[artdcnaldson]

being arts waxer… he gets hard when you start getting near his happy trail… can see this somehow ending up with rimming him….

-🍅

This makes me feel so dizzy and insane. This video (p link) is shaving but so similar……. Anyways. Smooth princess curls Art for your viewing pleasure.

Thinking… early pros!Art… he’s usually just been shaving but someone told him that waxing gets you smoother and he’s tired of having to do it all himself <3 And maybe he’s naive, but he didn’t think he’d be so affected by it. But you’re so pretty, and he’s naked on your table and it’s all so sterile, with the gloves and the paper beneath him.

It’s not so bad when you’re waxing his legs. Well, it wouldn’t be so bad, really. But you reach his thighs and you’re so careful and considerate, checking in, making sure he’s comfortable. He starts feeling like it could be a mistake when you rub a soothing hand over his thigh where you’ve just ripped off a wax strip and the sensation seems to go directly to his half-hard cock.

You get to his chest, and you’re just so gentle when you smooth the wax onto his skin and rub his chest tenderly after you’ve ripped off the strip. “You okay?” You ask, and he has to swallow hard before he nods. It’s not like it hurts that bad, it’s that your hands are making him feel dizzy, and you’re so attentive and the way he’s tenting the towel on his lap is fucking obscene.

You move to his happy trail, the soft, fuzzy trail of hair at his navel, and he knows you can’t just ignore how hard he is. His cheeks are a furious pink, as he apologizes over and over and over. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s weird, you don’t have to—“ But you just give him a sweet smile and tell him it’s natural, that it happens to lots of guys. You’re not even phased by it at this point.

Your hand smooths over his tummy as you apply the strip, and his cock twitches beneath the towel as you rip it off. “How’s that?” You ask. And he’s so turned on that his brain’s all fuzzy, poor boy can’t even manage to spit a single word out. “Do you need a break before we keep going?”

He should say yes, but that’s even more humiliating, so he just shakes his head. You pull the towel off and he’s so hard that his cock slaps against his tummy. His cheeks burn a ruddy red, especially as precum dribbles from his tip onto the smooth, red skin where you’d just waxed. You guide his legs into butterfly, getting him exposed and in the proper position for you to wax him.

Each strip you pull just makes his cock throb and spurt precum. Maybe it’s the seeming indifference you have to his plight, or your hands on his body in places most girls have never touched— his ass, his perineum, his balls. He feels fucking perverted, getting off on you doing your job, but he can’t help it.

“Almost done,” you tell him, and he feels equal parts grateful and disappointed. “Is it okay if I touch you? I just need to get a few last spots.” When he nods, you take his cock into your hand and he wants to fucking sob. He wonders if you can feel the way he’s throbbing in your grasp, how his cock kicks with that first tug of the wax strip at his base. When he whimpers, your brow furrows with concern. “Oh, did that one hurt? I’m sorry.”

You smooth over the next strip, and as soon as you pull it, he’s cumming in thick, messy spurts over his tummy and your hand. His hips jerk, seeking friction, and he swears he feels your hand coaxing him through it, squeezing more cum out of his sensitive tip. But you don’t say anything, you just grab a few paper towels and clean him up while his cock flags between his thighs.

He feels like a kicked puppy as you finish up and let him get dressed. You’re at the computer, typing away, and when you turn around he’s ready to be told he’s banned, that he’s not allowed to set foot here again. But you hand him a little appointment card and give him that same sweet smile that made him feel so weak in the first place. “I’ll see you next month, okay?”

He doesn’t know if he’ll survive that long.

[sungiepark]

ASS OR TITS?

do seventeen members prefer ass or tits ?

NSFW CONTENT ! MNDI !

seungcheol:

ass. no doubt in my mind. loves fucking you in doggy so he can get the perfect view. if you wear short skirts PREPARE to be fucked with it on. LOVES spanking and seeing his red handprint left on his favourite part of you <3

jeonghan:

also an ass dude. punishes you by having you lay on his lap and count the spanks he gives you. massages each spot he hit. whenever you ride him his hands are always squeezing your ass. lowkey wouldn't be that shocked if he bit your cheeks one time.

joshua:

this is totally not biased at all but tits. and i'm gonna say it; he is a small titty advocator. idc. likes that he can fit your whole boob in his hand size kink go brrr. he will suck on your tits all day and night if he could. likes keeping his hands on your boobs during the day.

jun:

like i said in my mirror sex fic,,, tits. so so so titty obsessed. loves shower sex as well cuz who doesn't like soapy boobs ? lays his head on top of your tits while you cuddle. constantly asking you to send boob pics. like CONSTANTLY.

soonyoung:

i can see him being both tbh, but i think he leads more to boobs. titty fucking is one of his favourite things on the planet. definetly has a collection of pics of your boobs. likes cumming on them too what can i say.

wonwoo:

don't think i've ever seen a bigger ass man in my life. gets hard just from thinking about your ass. saw mingyu take a peek one day and absolutely fucked the shit out of you so his roommate could hear you screaming his name through the walls.

jihoon:

boobs. so so SO boobs. he gets a little lazy from the crazy amount of work he tortures himself with, so cowgirl is his #1 position. (he loves it because he doesn't have to do any work NOT because your tits bouncing in his face drives him nuts) (definitely not for that reason).

minghao:

i can definitely see him loving making hand prints on your ass, loves watching the red blossom, but he LOVES marking your boobs. seeing his "artwork" hickeys on your tits drives him WILD. also considers his cum on your tits to be his favourite piece of art he's ever made （〃｀ 3′〃）

mingyu:

ass. like don't get him wrong, he goes BONKERS for some boobs. but... your ass makes him foam at the mouth. one of those dudes who slaps your ass whenever he walks passed. when you're riding him into the mattress, def has a CRAZY grip on your cheeks to try and control his tears.

seokmin:

he's a tit boy through and through. this mans one goal in life is to please you. i am a BIG believer in pussydrunk!dk. but he will latch on your tits like it's his LIFELINE. for sure fingers you while he's lapping at your chest, he just can't get enough of your cunt either ＞︿＜

seungkwan:

boobs as well. his hands are latched onto your tits 24/7. rests his head on them while you cuddle, plays with them when he's upset, and he keeps his hands up your shirt while your snuggling on the couch. he's also a BIG nipple biter don't @ me.

vernon:

yeah he loves ass. doggy is his go to (well besides reverse cowgirl but that still isn't helping his case). when i say he spanks i mean it. he is SLAPPING your ass. he just can't help it, his hand prints turn him on so much.

chan:

def another ass guy. eats you out from behind (or just straight up eats ass who knows). his hand is on your cheeks in public too he just can't help it. if you're wearing a short dress / skirt, be prepared for a long night (and to say goodbye to that article of clothing cuz he def stains it)

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[victiamai]

Tokyo Revengers Interactions - Part 2(motorcycle rides and other things)

⚠️Inappropriate language and some obscenities ⚠️

🦋Visit me on Instagram 🦋

✨Personal Instagram: @vic_m.d✨

✨Arts Instagram: @vic_tia_mai ✨

⚠️English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes in this story ⚠️

💋Female reader 💋

💜Happy reading! 💜

⭐ characters: Hakkai Shiba, Takemichi Hanagaki, Chifuyu Matsuno, Shuji Hanma, Takashi Mitsuya, Souya Kawata (Angry), Nahoya Kawata (Smiley), South Terano (Bonus)⭐

Hakkai Shiba:

•He's trying to overcome his shyness around you. But even so, he can't stop blushing when you hug his waist.

•Motorcycle rides are frequent.

•He was taking you to your parents' house.

•You slowly got off when he stopped the bike. You hugged his neck or kissed him. "Are you sure you don't want to stay, my love?" You asked looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry princess, I really can't today... Gang stuff..." You made him promise to stay next time.

•You kissed him one more time and he left on the motorcycle.

Takemichi Hanagaki:

•Your idiot childhood best friend Hanagaki Takemichi

•You almost regretted asking him to take you home after school.

•He got the "twin" of Mikey's bike not long ago. Takemichi didn't seem to be very experienced with bikes.

•"Takemichi, for the love of God... DON'T LEAN SO MUCH WITH THAT BIKE!" you shouted in complete despair.

•Hanagaki took a turn so fast that you were forced to lean over to avoid falling with the bike, you and everything. "TAKEMICHI!" You screamed as your leg scraped on the asphalt.

•Get ready to give him a lot of slaps and get a lot of apologies.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

•"Hey Chifuyu?" He looks at you over his shoulder. "Yeah, Y/N?" You lightly fix your hair. "I need to be home early today... I thought you could drive me there. Well, you have a motorcycle right?" He healed violently at her request. "Of course y/n..." You hear his friends celebrating.

•He is worshipping your body close to his.

•My God, how he wants you to hug him!

•He took great care while riding with you on the back of his motorcycle.

•He is 100% fulfilled with the event.

•When he dropped you off in front of your house, he felt light as feathers, ready to fly away.

•You can be sure he will tell Baji everything, This one will be extremely happy and proud of his friend.

Shuji Hanma:

•Being Hanma's companion has its challenges. But it also has countless advantages.

•"Hey y/n, sweetie" his voice is so sweet today that you even found it strange.

•Hanma drags you up and down to his gang meetings. And there you were once again.

•You had to fight your way through the various delinquents to get to him. When you got to the front with him, his face was grim.

•"Let's go!" Something very serious had happened soon but you didn't dare to ask.

•Hanma joining the Tokyo Manji gang was quite a surprise for you.Mad you're a good girl, you're a good girlfriend, and good girls and good girlfriends don't ask their evil boyfriend questions.

•Hanma was "asked to leave the gang" another big surprise for you. And once again you didn't ask anything.

•That night, he took his anger out on you. Hanma thrust in and out of you with a murderous fury. His eyes flashed as you grabbed his back with your sharp nails. And that only made him more excited.

• "Do you like that? Is that right baby girl?" Good luck walking the next day.

Takashi Mitsuya:

•Mitsuya is your best friend. You call him that, although Mitsuya doesn't like that title very much.

•He made a beautiful new outfit for you. 'She's going to look hot in that outfit...' he thought, unable to contain himself, as far as his imagination went.

•Mitsuya imagined what you would look like in the outfit he made. You and your beautiful body covered in the soft fabric he chose especially for you.

•Mitsuya picked you up from your school that afternoon. He offered you his helmet and you sat behind him. As usual, you hugged his waist to keep from falling off the bike.

• "y/n... I made something for you" he said fixing shyness.

•It was clear that it was a new outfit, you hugged him and rested your face on his shoulder.

•"You must have looked beautiful, Suya" and you really did look beautiful, you looked beautiful. And Mitsuya let it show.

•That night, Mitsuya stopped being your best friend, although he still remains just your.

Souya Kawata (Angry):

•Angry is completely different from his smiley twin brother. Anyone can easily see that.

•The other twins are childhood best friends, and this has generated countless virtues for you.

•You never walked again, for example. You didn't have to worry about your own safety, and that was wonderful for you.

•You love the twins. And they love you. Although in different ways.

•Smiley you just a little sister. As for Angry... Ah... He worships you like a true goddess.

•You were going to the market when the twins passed you on their motorcycles.

•"Hey y/n" shouted the smiley "get on the bike girl, I'll give you a ride!" You were happy until the pink-haired twin. Until Until you noticed the blue-haired twins staring at you with those sad eyes. Although he maintained his usual furious expression.

•"Sorry Nahoya, but I'm going with your brother this time..." Smiley whispered whatever. Smiling as he watched you go to his brother.

•You held on to him tightly as the two bikes rode side by side down the street.

•When you got off the bike, Nahoya looked at you smiling "go on girl, we'll be waiting for you outside."Souya looked at you desperately and said, "And please choose me again."

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley):

•(lots of sex between you two.) He loves fucking his childhood friend.

•Make no mistake, in this part of the story it is Smiley who is in love with you. And Angry to see you as a younger sister.

•Smiley is fast. One minute you're talking about high school, and the next you're having sex for the first time.

•Grind your ass on his cock, he loves it when you do that. "Fuck baby girl... You're gonna make me cum like that!"

South Terano (bonus):

•Please your man. He deserves it. South grabs your hair, pushing your head against his body. You choke, relax your throat and try again.

•He makes a huge effort not to be too rough with you. After all, you are his precious and favorite rag doll.

•Come on girl, get that dick down your throat nice and tight. He'll reward you in no time.

💋Hey, did you like the story? Suggest me more characters for part 3💋

[mooncrestedwaters]

Been thinking about Rafayel and how he shows his love (especially after his newest card trailer).

On the surface, Rafayel seems like he's an open book. He's witty, affectionate, chatty ect ect

But once you dig deeper you realise that he's that way...but only with the person he loves. He's actually quite reserved and doesn't enjoy being the center of attention, even going so far to say his job is a thing of self expression rather than something he actively strives to make money off of.

With the upcoming new 5* card of Rafayel's, I wasn't shocked that we didn't have a kiss or one where he tried to kiss us (and tbh his sweeter form of affection in wanting to cuddle us and snuggle into our neck made my tummy do flips and had me having a near breakdown from how much it made me gooey)

I feel like Rafayel is a yearner to his core, even his interviewer noted as much that he gave an air of 'romance' to him.

The best way I can describe it is; His love is like his profession and his EVOL.

Art takes time, it takes an observant eye and mind. I've grown up with artists my entire life and to make a painting is much more than slapping some acrylics onto a board and calling it a day. It takes tempering, to prepare the board, to build up layers upon the canvas to correct any mistakes without an eraser or undo button.

It's gentle, tending to the whims of the canvas to make a happy compromise of your own.

Onto his EVOL, Rafayel treats a relationship like a firepit. He wants it to have longevity, keeping himself and the fire alight. So instead of chucking a log onto the firepit he nourishes it with kindling, giving it a poke here and here to check on its status while being warmed by the flames.

Rafayel is also horrifically traumatised from previous encounters with love.

Think of it this way;

He was a Prince. Set to be throned as a King and live with his beloved forever.

He set out to find a devout follower to sacrifice their heart to him in turn found himself giving them his own heart and betraying everything because he wouldn't let a pre-destined prophecy rule himself or his beloved.

When he got his love back, in another timeline they were brainwashed and ended up killing him. The absolute agony you must go through, to be maliciously murdered and know that it's by the person you love but not their intention to do so and in your last breath you grant them mercy to die alongside you by singing them to death.

Moving onto Abysswalker Rafayel, the weight of being told you have to kill your love to resurrect your hometown, taking the love of your life on a wondrous journey to know you have to kill them in the end and instead erasing their memories of you permanently to protect them and keep them alive, rewriting a tome for their sake and thus dooming his beloved kingdom and people to be tormented for eternity of his peoples damned screams of death and agony.

Do you ever wonder if he has sat with himself and laminated over this horrifying fall from grace?

Yet he still does it, for them.

After ruminating over this; I wouldn't be as forward as the other LI either.

I think Rafayel is immaculately brave and loyal for even trying again, for still searching for his beloved over years and years.

He has his insecurities, they show when he gets bratty or needy. Quipping at his beloved for not having their sole attention on him, he's meant to be worshipped after all, doted on, praised for having put in so much effort.

Alas, his love doesn't remember, doesn't see the accumulation of sacrifices and things hes done for them.

So he hints, he prods and pokes gently and he starts having them warm up to him again. Braving a tender word here, a lovingly gentle touch there and moving up and forward until he can see that his beloved has fallen in love with him again.

Rafayel is a love that doesn't burn bright, it burns with stability, it burns with loyalty, it burns with truth and gentle care. He would never want to scorch his love.

Rafayel makes accommodations for them, weaving them into his life in any way, if that may be employing them to inviting them on little excursions. Even keeping a watchful eye over them, noticing when they're in need, hurt or just simply making his presence known as a comfortable 'You can come to me'.

He's a gentleman, a romantic...with a little edge (Rafayel audios I'm looking at you, hard)

Anyways, I should not drink copious amounts of caffeine within a short allotment of time. I hope my ramblings have been enjoyable ����🪽

[seduzist]

helloooo!!!! this is my first time sending a request sorry if its a bit awkward :< could you do artxtashixpatrickxfem!reader (if u write for challengers!) where reader's an idol (or any career, really) who's very successful and rich but lonely bcus people only date her for social climbing? and then the three decide to try and make her feeeeellll... better?

sorry if this is a bit unclear, like i said this is my first time sending a req! :3

(an: guys its so hard to write a foursome i had no idea like- 😭 and i wrote it really sleepy so im sorry ill fix any mistakes later.)

art x patrick x tashi x fem!reader

cw. smut, foursome, dirty, just very dirty.

even if u’re a famous singer, with many fans and required by many people, when tashi duncan herself invites you to watch her husband’s game after you tell on a interview that you liked to watch tennis, you couldn’t possibly refuse. it was a really exciting game, but sadly came to an end after patrick zweig loses for just a few points, but that didn’t really matter because what happened afterwards is even more exciting. tashi invited you to her dorm, you were all staying at same hotel after all, wasn’t weird of her to want to know you better and introduce you to her champion husband.

you entered shyly as tashi opened to you, saying it was a pleasure to know you in person, that she was happy you were there, what really surprised you was seeing patrick sitting at the couch drinking a beer and talking with art, like the game of a few hours ago didn’t happen.

you sit by their side and after being introduced you were all already on a involvent conversation, they convinced you to drink some beers with them and after a few ones you were drunk. they were funny, made you feel comfortable enough to rest your head on tashi’s lap while you talked abt your shitty ex who used you just for social climbing. that’s how comfortable they made you, or maybe that’s how lonely you felt. while you laughed at some stupid joke patrick made, tashi started caressing your face gently, and before you could even realize her thumb circled your lips, like she was asking you to suck her finger. it was a little awkward but art’s kept looking at you, curious if you would do it or not, and in a act of courage, you did, made him mumbles a “fuck” under his breath and bring one hand to his bonner. that’s when you fully realized what was happening, you all exchanged looks.

“if you wanna leave, it’s okay, but if you stay… we just want to make you feel good..” tashi whispered lowly, and you thought for a sec or two, but then you got up, kneeling on the couch and kissing her lips, she kissed you back in a heartbeat and grabbed your hair in her hand. you heard patrick gasp and art breath heavily and looked at them, seeing hunger in both of their eyes, tashi calls them and they both get closer, patrick involved your waist with his arm you all started to exchange messy kisses, to the point where you could differentiate them by the kiss.

after a few minutes they took you to bed, you couldn’t even tell how did all of you get naked, but you wasn’t complaining. tashi sits with you laying between her thighs, it was clear that her words kept you relaxed at this point, she massaged your breasts while patrick started positioning himself between your legs, but before he could part them, you heard the voice above your ear.

“who do you think that deserves to fuck you first, hm? the winner as a reward, or the loser as a consolation prize?”

“oh c’mon, tashi-“ patrick was cut off by her warning look, silently shutting him up.

art just found it funny, even though his dick was rock hard and you could see the precum leaking, he didn’t seen to be desperate like patrick, that’s when you made your decision.

“i’m no consolation prize, i’m the fucking reward.” the married couple enjoyed your answer but patrick gave a loud slap on your thigh playfully before leaving, giving room for art to come, he leaned over to kiss you as a thanks before got up again, thrusting his pretty cock on your dripping entrance, so slippery that didn’t take long for him to get rough.

you felt patrick by your side, offering his cock for you to suck, which you tried to, but your body were moving to much with art’s thrust and you couldn’t stop moan, poor boy only gets a few seconds with his cock inside your mouth before tashi started to jerk him off in front of your face.

didn’t take long for them to cum too, art spewing his load inside you while you came around his cock, and patrick leaking thick cum all over your pretty face and tits, you looked at him with doe eyes, almost apologizing to him silently, but he smiled at you when he finished, letting you know that it was fine.

you felt your pussy aching when art took his softened cock out, but smiled when you heard tashi above your ear “hope you’re not tired yet, it’s girls time now, doll.”

[fixfoxnox]

Pervert Blues (Soap/Roach)

Art by the wonderful @miilkybnn , find it here

Description: Roach has an issue. John "Soap" MacTavish is a fucking pervert and won't leave him alone. He definitely doesn't like it. And he definitely is not happy when Soap finally manages to get him alone in a communal bathroom on base.

Warnings: Smut, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Semi-public sex, perv Soap, slight victim blaming but Roach wants it

Notes: Based on that one audition from Soap and written for my dearest @miilkybnn

Roach and Soap had issues since the very moment that Roach had joined the 141. It wasn’t anything that Roach had done, he’d made a pretty good impression on the team when he’d joined. Apparently, too good of an impression on Soap, considering what had been building between the two for months upon months. 

It had started off innocent enough, so innocent that Roach hadn’t thought anything of it. The comments from Soap were just playful little things about how good he looked in the uniform. How he must have had all the people on his old squad drooling after him. “Accidental” touches that would brush against his ass. The friendly hand on the small of his back, guiding him into a conference room or the cafeteria. The way he would stand just a bit too close while they were talking. Or he’d get right up behind Roach to get something off of a taller shelf. 

It had all seemed so innocent. Then, Roach started noticing more. He started to get a tad uncomfortable. It wasn’t so innocent anymore. Soap’s comments went from playful to borderline catcalling. He’d whistle when Roach went by, his eyes caught on the curve of his ass. Roach would always start moving a bit faster, his face going a bright red. It didn’t feel like a friendly joke, it felt real. 

Then there was the flirting. The way that Soap would lean in all too close to him and whisper something about helping Roach “rearrange his furniture” or having Roach “test out the new bed in his room.” All while his fingers would trace along Roach’s arm temptingly. Roach would always end up scurrying out of the room, desperate to be able to breathe away from Soap’s touch. 

His hands grew bolder. He still hid behind excuses, grabbing at Roach’s hips to move him out of his way. Touching Roach’s ass as he gave him a boost over a wall on a mission, claiming it was an accident, just where his hand landed. Roach would never point out that the grope to his ass surely wasn’t an accident. Roach never said anything, and maybe that was his mistake. Maybe if he had said something he could have nipped it in the bud before it had grown to what it was now. 

Now? Now Soap had lost all shame. He’d moved past hiding his desire and his perverted actions from Roach and turned to just hiding it from the rest of the team. Now Roach found himself being groped any time Soap got a chance. God forbid if he made the mistake of bending over in front of Soap. He’d be likely to find himself sprawled on the floor from the force in which Soap would slap his ass. 

Roach would always turn to him with a glare, but Soap would just shrug with that smug asshole smirk on his face and say that if Roach didn’t want it, he shouldn’t have flaunted himself like that. Roach would gape at him, unable to do anything other than stare as he watched Soap strut out of the room. 

Now the comments were more graphic. Quick descriptions of what Soap wanted to do to him in the uniform he was wearing, all whispered in his ear at random times. Quick words of how well Soap knew that he would be able to take his cock, how much he would love taking his cock. Roach would never be able to respond, always finding his mouth going dry, his face going red, and an embarrassing wetness pooling between his thighs and threatening to soak his boxers. 

Then there was the journal. That stupid fucking journal that Soap was always carrying around with him. Around the other members of the 141, Soap was like a guard dog over it, ready to snap at any of them who even tried to sneak a peak. Roach had even seen him take a swipe at Gaz for simply walking behind him while he’d been working in the little journal. 

It wasn’t like that for Roach. No, no, it was like Soap wanted Roach to see his journal, to see every filthy thing that he’d drawn and written inside of it. The first time that Roach had seen it, Soap had gotten up to get a drink and left the journal wide open next to him on the couch. Roach had only glanced at it for a moment before doing a quick double take, his mouth falling open as he observed the various drawings laid out on the two open pages of the journal. 

Sketch upon sketch of him in various lewd positions. It was clearly meant to be him and, just in case he couldn’t recognize himself from his appearance, Soap had added a helpful little arrow that labeled one of the drawings of him with his name. 

There was one of him on his knees, the very tip of a thick cock laid on his tongue as he drooled around it. Another was him on his back, his own fingers buried deep in his cunt as his back arched off the bed, juices dripping from between his thighs. Then there was the other page, each of the drawings there featuring him with a man splitting him open on his cock. It didn’t take Roach long to figure out who the man with the mohawk was meant to represent. 

When Soap had returned to the couch and spotted Roach looking at the journal with a burning red face, he only grinned. He took the journal back into his hands and leaned back against the arm of the couch he was on, a smirk tugging at his lips as he began sketching on the pages. He would look up at Roach occasionally like he was referencing back to his face to make sure he got everything right. 

Roach had made his escape only moments after that. Scurrying back to his room to bury his face in his pillow as an embarrassing arousal flooded his system. 

And the most bold move that Soap had started with was the clothing.

Roach hadn’t noticed it at first. A few of his boxers and shirts missing from the laundry room weren't anything to worry about. After all, it could have been anything. He could have misplaced them or they could have ended up in someone else's things by mistake. He didn't think much of it, he was sure they would turn up sooner or later.

They had turned up, just not how he'd expected or wanted them to. He'd come back to his room after a conference with Price one day, just a check-in for how he'd been settling on the team, making sure he was getting along with the other team members. Simple things. Roach had said nothing about Soap. He'd hoped that the other’s perverted behavior and strong advances on him would simply fade with time.

Then he'd come into his room, finding a pair of his missing boxers crumpled up onto his bed. He'd blinked at the sight of them, wondering how they'd ended up there of all places. Then he'd grabbed them and realized with a startling yelp exactly where his boxers had been. He didn't think he'd ever rushed to a bathroom to wash his hands quicker than he had at that moment.

He knew it was Soap. He wasn't an idiot. The smirk that the other man had given him when they'd run into each other again on his way to rush to the laundry room was enough to fill him in, even if he hadn't suspected him. The following week saw all of his missing clothes being returned one by one, each covered in the evidence of Soap's perverted desire for him. 

Soap hadn't stopped, he'd only grown bolder from there, even going so far as to sneak into Roach's room and take care of himself using Roach's pillow. Roach knew he wouldn't stop either. The other man would just keep going until he was satisfied with whatever he wanted from Roach. Whether it was just his body or all of him, it didn't matter. It wouldn't stop.

Roach knew he should have gone to Price. Should have raised a sexual harassment complaint against the man the moment he'd seen those drawings in the journal. The issue was that he had no proof of what Soap was doing. For as big of a perverted asshole as Soap was, he was a careful asshole. He'd never been anything but polite to Roach in front of the others. He'd hidden his tracks well, no evidence of him taking Roach's clothes or sneaking into his room or groping him. Roach could do nothing to prove it.

And, while he didn't necessarily need perfect proof, he knew that if he didn't have hard enough evidence the simple answer would be to separate Soap and Roach onto different teams. And since Soap had been on the 141 longer, it would likely be Roach on the chopping block. He wasn't willing to risk that, not everything he'd worked for. And definitely not over that asshole Soap MacTavish.

Roach had done everything in his power to avoid Soap. He didn’t want to find out exactly how the other man planned to step up his antics next, so he’d made a point to never be left alone with the Sergeant. Of course, he couldn’t avoid everything, and Soap always found an excuse to be touching him. 

And, of course, Soap wasn’t an idiot. He’d clearly noticed that Roach was doing his damnedest to ignore and avoid him. The sudden frequency of his clothes going missing and the little drawing of him bent over a desk with a hand palming over his cunt and a clear handprint on his ass that had mysteriously shown up in his room was enough to tell him that Soap had noticed. Roach was nervous, especially as he could feel Soap’s eyes following him practically anywhere he went. 

He felt paranoid. He hated the unwanted attention that the other man continued to find a way to give him. At least he told himself over and over that he hated the attention even as he kept that little drawing that had shown up in his room. Even if he found that he stopped caring so much about finding his missing clothing soiled on his bed. 

He didn’t want what Soap was offering, so he’d done everything in his power to avoid the man. Of course, luck had never particularly been his strong suit, so it was only a matter of time before the universe decided that Roach couldn’t avoid Soap any longer. Roach just wondered if it had to happen just as he’d finished showering.

He was in the locker room, not by his own choice but by a cruel twist of fate. The water heater for his half of the building had gone and offed itself, so he’d elected to shower in the locker room rather than deal with freezing his ass off in his own shower. 

Roach hadn’t thought much about it when he’d come into the locker room to someone else already showering in one of the other stalls. He assumed it was some other poor sap who’d lost the hot water in their room just as he had. So he’d just taken his own stall and started washing away the grime that had accumulated on his skin from the day’s training. 

Distantly he picked up on the other shower turning off and whoever was there stepping out of the shower but, again, he paid it no mind. He just continued his usual routine of scrubbing his skin near raw to rid himself of the lingering feeling of dirt and sweat clinging to his skin. He’d assumed that the other person would have gone by the time that he’d finished. 

Of course, that wasn’t the case and, when he’d stepped out of the shower with only a towel around his waist, dread seemed to pool in his gut. There, leaned casually against the locker in a wife beater and a pair of loose sweatpants was Soap, that stupid fucking smirk on his face as he met Roach’s eyes. 

“Fuck,” Roach muttered under his breath. He tightened his grip on his towel before starting toward his things as quickly as he could. “Soap,” he acknowledged with a snap as he moved past the man and over toward his bag.

“Roach,” Soap sounded delighted with this turn of events. Delighted and all too smug. “Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“You saw me at training today.”

“You know what I mean.” Soap pushed himself off of the locker, “Like this. Just the two of us. Blissfully alone.”

Roach opened the small bag he’d brought with him, digging through it to try and find his clothes, his brow wrinkling as he pushed past his extra towel and other necessities. “Have you considered that us not being left alone might have been purposeful? That maybe I don’t want to be alone with you?”

“Come on now,” Soap moved casually closer to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Roach could see the wicked grin that the man was wearing. Something about it spelled trouble for him, but he did his best to ignore it. “You can stop playing this game of yours, Roach, I know you want me. It’s easier if you just say it.”

“Want you?” Roach gave a frustrated laugh, “In your fucking dreams MacTavish.” He gave a grunt as he shoved more things aside in his bag. He couldn’t find his fucking clothes. It didn’t make sense, they were supposed to be right there when he opened his bag. Easy to grab and change into. Now, though, it was like they’d disappeared-

Roach froze, horror filling him as his mind snapped into place. The fucker hadn’t. He wouldn’t. Surely he wasn’t so bold. He didn’t want to believe it, but a large part of him already knew. He stayed still for a long moment until Soap, with that smug asshole voice of his asked, “Something wrong?”

“Where are they?” Roach snapped, abandoning his bag to round the bench and poke at Soap’s chest. “Give them back, this isn’t funny!”

Soap’s grin never fell from his face, even as he asked, “Give what back?”

“My clothes you asshole!”

“Ohhh,” Soap gave a dramatic shake of his head. “Silly me. You want to know what I did with your clothes?”

“Yes,” Roach snapped at him, feeling rage and embarrassment tugging at his chest. He could not believe that this was happening to him. That Soap would be so bold as to make a move like this in the locker room of all places. Of course, he shouldn’t have been surprised. If Soap was willing to break into his room and jerk off against his pillow, he was likely willing to do much worse. “Where are they?”

“Ah, I set 'em aside for a bit. Like you better like this anyways.” His eyes raked down Roach’s body and Roach resisted the urge to shiver. He swore that he could feel the look that Soap gave him on his skin, touching him just as the man in front of him so clearly wanted to do. “The uniforms good but this?” He gave a low whistle and Roach could feel his face go red. Whether it was from anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t be sure. 

“You fucking prick!” Roach gave a quick harsh shove at Soap’s chest, knocking him back a few inches. Soap’s smirk only seemed to grow at the move, making Roach feel all the more annoyed with him. “Is it not enough to harass me at every turn? I can’t have a single break from your shit, can I?” 

“My shit?” Soap closed the distance between them again. “Imagine being me, dealing with your ridiculous teasing.” Roach gaped at him at those words, completely taken aback by the implications of what Soap was saying. “You in that fucking uniform, always bending over in front of me, flaunting those pictures of you at the gym and in your fucking civvies? Gets my cock fucking twitching just talking about it.” He tilted his head back with a slight groan at the thought. 

“You are such a fucking perv!” Roach took a step away from the other man. “I mean I should have known considering you broke into my room to jerk it against my pillow.” Soap took a step forward, following Roach as he backed away, trying to put any distance that he could between the two of them. “I’d at least hoped that around all the thinking with your dick, there was a part of you that respected me.” His back hit the cold tile of one of the shower stalls and soon enough he found himself caged in place as Soap’s hands hit the wall on either side of his head. “Should have known, you’re just another perverted asshole.” 

Soap made a playful clicking sound with his tongue before shaking his head. “Oh no, Bug, you’ve got me all wrong. I do respect you.” He brought one of his hands down to push a strand of wet hair away from Roach’s forehead. He seemed oddly sincere for a few moments.  “I respect you so much I mean, I want you on top…and on your back. And on your knees.”

“You fucking-” 

Roach couldn’t say more around the tongue that forced its way into his mouth and the knee that shoved its way between his thighs, pressing against his cunt through the towel blocking his modesty. The pressure was downright deadly, a slow and steady pressure against his clit that had his hands shaking as he went to push at Soap’s shoulders, a weak attempt to get the man to move away. He didn’t know if he actually wanted Soap’s heat away from his body. 

It was almost cathartic for him, in an odd way. Finally having Soap pressed up against him, finally having the other man act on his disgusting thoughts and the desire he so clearly felt for Roach. The desire that had driven him to do so much, to push the boundaries, and now to take what he desired. It was like the final piece of a puzzle that he’d been trying to finish for months. 

Soap’s hands grabbed at Roach’s hips, pinning him to the wall pressed tight against his own body. When Roach tried again to pull away from his mouth, Soap was quick to move and wind a hand into Roach’s hair, gripping tight enough to pull a gasp of pain from Roach’s lips. He didn’t even act like he noticed Roach’s hands trying to push him away like Roach wasn’t strong enough even to bother him. 

After a short moment, Soap pulled his mouth away from Roach’s, still holding tight to his hair to keep him in place. He gave a downright predatory grin toward Roach, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. “Is that all you can give as a struggle? I thought you’d at least pretend that you didn’t want me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach hissed, shoving at Soap’s chest harder, “and get the fuck off of me you fucking asshole!”

“God,” Soap bounced his leg, forcing a small whine from Roach’s throat, “Look at you. You want my cock so bad, don’t you baby?” He yanked Roach away from the wall and, with a small fight between the two men, eventually forced Roach to the ground, splayed out on his back with his legs bracketing Soap’s waist. The towel around his waist was lost in the struggle, so he could do nothing but shiver at the cold press of tile against his back and feel shame creeping up his spine as Soap drank in the sight of his cunt. 

Roach squirmed in Soap’s grasp, trying to kick his legs out and at the very least get the man to look anywhere other than where his gaze was fixed. It only resulted in Soap’s hands gripping tight to his thighs, tight enough to bruise, all to hold him in place as he took in his fill. Roach could have died from embarrassment as he felt heat pooling in his gut from the move. Between his thighs felt much slicker than it had moments ago and based on the shit-eating grin that crossed Soap’s face, he’d noticed it. 

“Like being manhandled, don’t you?” Soap leaned down and nipped at his chest, following the move with a quick soothing slide of his tongue. Roach gasped at the feeling and reacted on instinct, reaching out to smack at Soap’s shoulder, glaring at him as he did. Soap didn’t let that go too easily, immediately removing his hands from Roach’s thighs to pin his arms down. He lowered himself until his face was hovering just over Roach’s, his clothed cock pressed tight against Roach’s wet cunt. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Soap rolled his hips forward, starting a slow rolling grind of his hips, groaning and panting as he did. He didn’t hide how much he was enjoying himself, from rutting his hard cock against Roach and panting desperately in his ear, it was clear that this alone was quite enough for him. Roach couldn’t deny the desire that sparked in him at being treated in such a way, like nothing more than a pillow for Soap to hump. Nothing more than an object, a toy, for Soap to use. 

He tried to bite back his own moans at the friction of Soap’s sweatpants rubbing against his clit, but the feeling of it was too fucking good and not quite enough of what he wanted. He could tamper down most of his moans, but the gasping breaths and the whimpers were another story, and Soap’s laughter against his ear was enough to tell Roach that he’d noticed. 

“Doesn’t this feel right, bug? Pressed under my cock just like you were meant to be.”

Roach clenched his jaw and did his best to speak clearly around the ever-growing arousal in his chest and his own desire to just stop fighting against what Soap was saying. The slow pressure against his clit was almost enough to have him admitting it, admitting that he liked it and that this was exactly where he was meant to be. Instead, he responded, “Pinned under you when I’d rather it be anyone else? Nothing’s ever felt more wrong.”

“Well,” Soap pulled back and gave a wicked grin, his eyes tracing down Roach’s body as he spoke, “the wet spot at the front of my sweatpants says different, love. That’s all from this sweet cunt weeping for me.” He shifted Roach’s arms into one hand before tracing his fingers down Roach’s body until they met his cunt. He paused for a moment, a teasing heat right where Roach’s body was begging for his touch, he didn’t make the wait long.

His fingers traced along Roach’s slit slowly, collecting slick on them to make the sudden press against his clit all the smoother. Roach’s back nearly arched from the tile floors at the feeling, a strangled moan escaping his mouth as he tried to fight back the evidence of his pleasure. Soap looked like the cat who’d got the cream at the move, a smug sense of satisfaction radiating from his body as he worked his fingers in slow circles against Roach. Roach did his best to keep them down, but moans seemed to spill from his lips even without his permission.

“Do you,” he started, cutting himself off with a whimper and a slight tug against Soap’s hand as his hips jumped up against the fingers playing at him. “Do you not hear yourself?” His breathing was labored and Soap’s eyes seemed fixated on his body. From the red flush over his skin to the way that his fingers looked against his puffy clit. “What are you, some sort of dog? Salivating like I’m a slab of meat.”

Soap gave a quick playful snap of his teeth just by his neck, his fingers slipping away from Roach’s clit to begin toying at his slit. He pressed the tip of his finger into Roach, holding it there for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open just a bit as he began to sink the digit inside of Roach’s body. “I’ll fuck you like a dog,” he spoke, his voice sounding breathy and desperate. To Roach, it sounded like the other man was on a precarious edge, bound to fall and turn to something more violent. 

Roach only gave a small hum of pleasure as Soap sunk his finger in to the knuckle. Soap’s fingers were thick, thicker than his own and he was sure that if he was going to take the man’s cock, this would be necessary. “Need this, don’t you,” Soap muttered. “Cunts fucking tight, gonnae feel real good around me.”

Roach let his head knock back against the tile floor harshly, trying to get some sort of grip on himself as Soap began to slowly work his finger in and out of him, giving shallow little thrusts and crooks that just weren’t the right pace. It was a desperate few moments, but, finally, Roach stopped pretending that he didn’t want what was happening. 

His hips bucked up against Soap’s fingers, pulling a desperate moan from his mouth and surprising Soap enough that he paused, eyes wide. Roach could have shouted from the frustration he felt in that moment, instead, he settled on snapping, “You talk such a big game, come on then. Fuck me and maybe if you actually manage to get me off with your clumsy fingers and weak cock I’ll let you do it again.” 

Soap blinked wide at him for a moment before his face morphed into a brief picture of delighted rage. “Fucking slut.” He didn’t give Roach any sort of prep before shoving a second finger inside of him, immediately setting a rough pace with a slap of his palm against Roach’s clit with every thrust of his fingers. “We’ll see if you can still talk that shit when I’ve got you begging like a bitch in heat.” 

Roach moaned at the thought, his eyes fluttering just a bit as Soap’s hands grew just a bit rougher, a bit more possessive and demanding. The fingers fucking into his cunt were so good, filling and stretching him just right. Just right enough to have him squirming and jerking his hips up, already begging for another as they scissored him open and curled against his walls cruelly. It resulted in downright embarrassing noises spilling from his mouth, even as Soap gave him what he asked for and slowly began to work a third finger inside of him. 

“Have ta’ spread you open real good,” Soap’s words were spoken in a near growl, something rather brutal and beastly in the way that his hands tightened and his fingers became crueler, his thumb finding his clit to press him with constant stimulation. Roach was practically shaking as Soap leaned down, allowing his mouth to attack the exposed skin of his chest. 

His teeth and tongue began to tease at one of Roach’s nipples, laughter shaking his chest as Roach pressed up into the touch. “What happened to that fire, ah? Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach managed to mutter around the pleasure that seemed to be blocking his throat, “and keep fucking touching me.”

“What was that?” Soap’s words betrayed exactly what he wanted to hear, punctuated with the slowing of his fingers as they worked at Roach’s cunt. 

Roach gave a desperate whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation, tossing in Soap’s grasp in an attempt to gain even a little bit of it back. It didn’t work, and soon he found himself glaring up at Soap, shame burning his chest. “Fuck you.”

“Not until you ask me properly,” Soap teased. 

“Fuck,” Roach tossed his head back with a desperate sob. He knew that Soap would hold him to it as well. The man was a fucking sniper for god sake, he had to have the patience and control of a saint when he needed it and Roach would bet anything that he needed it now. “Please,” he spoke the words quietly. 

“What was that?”

“Please,” Roach spoke louder, a desperate sob pulling from his throat, “Please, Soap, just fuck me.”

“I thought you didn’t want it,” Soap leaned closer, letting his thumb just brush against Roach’s clit slowly, pulling another pleasured sob from Roach’s throat. “What was it you said? You’d prefer it if it was anyone else?”

“No,” Roach shook his head desperately. “Please, please I want it. Only need you to fuck me, need your cock. Please, Soap!” 

Soap gave a careful chuckle, pulling his fingers from Roach’s cunt and slowly releasing his arms. His hands moved down to the waistband of his sweatpants and Roach watched through the fog hazing over his mind as Soap pulled his sweatpants and boxers down over his ass, allowing him to finally get a look at the thick hard cock that had been straining against the material. Roach nearly moaned at the sight of it, knowing that it would feel fucking perfect splitting him open. 

Roach spread his legs wide for the man, moaning at the feeling of those hands returning to his thighs, one of them now covered in his own arousal. Their grip was near bruising as Soap lined his cock up with Roach’s cunt, slowly pushing himself until he had just the tip resting inside of Roach. He paused there, tilting his head back with a guttural groan before his eyes returned to Roach’s. They were clouded in lust, but Roach could still see the amusement that plagued them as he teased, “Told you I’d have you moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Roach didn’t get a chance to respond before Soap slammed his hips forward, sinking all the way into his cunt with one smooth move. There was no chance to speak, no chance to even adjust as Soap continued pounding into him, driving his hips deeper and deeper into him with every thrust. Roach’s hands locked onto his shoulders, grabbing tight in desperation for any sort of stabilization.

Each rock of Soap’s hips sent Roach’s entire body knocking knocking harshly against the floor. Even Soap’s bruising grip on his thighs, the same one that he was using to keep Roach firmly in place, wasn’t enough against the strong thrusts that threatened to bruise his hips. There was something so good about the slide of Soap’s cock, every line and curve of it rubbing so perfectly inside of him, teasing parts of him that he was sure no one else had ever managed to touch. 

His nails dug into Soap’s shoulders, aiming to hurt even as the man above him sent pleasure coursing down his spine. He could see Soap wince and something about that brought a sick sense of satisfaction to him. At least that was until Soap gave him a grin, “Is that what you want baby? You want to hurt me a little?” He jerked down, slamming his mouth against Roach’s in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded Roach’s mouth, sending their teeth clacking together and their noses bumping painfully. “Go on, Bug,” he pulled back, nipping at Roach’s lips until blood was spilling down his chin, “just know I’ll take full permission to hurt you back.” 

He pulled back again, resuming the quick pace of his hips as he leaned over Roach’s body, panting with blood on his lips. His eyes never seemed to leave Roach’s face, as though he was afraid to miss any second of pleasure from him. Roach couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, the mere thought of it making his face burn hotter than was comfortable for him. He needed something to focus on, something other than Soap and the intense look in his eyes.

He found it in the form of a swinging disk in front of his face. It slipped out from Soap’s wife beater, a shiny silver little disk that took to swaying with every thrust of his hips. Roach found himself mesmerized by it, the continued sway of silver and the near-melodic sound of skin slapping skin harshly. Roach had to fight against the desire to grab it and use it to yank the man down for another kiss, hoping to bite and bruise at his lip just the way he’d done to him. 

The thought of it pulled a whine from his lips and he couldn’t help but arch up into the other man, desperate to feel more than just his hands on his skin. More than just the fat cock pounding into him and sending heat building between his legs. Everything was so good, so terribly fucking good and he hated it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking good.” Soap released one of his thighs to skate his hand across Roach’s bare chest, teasing at his nipples for a slow moment. He let his hand trace further up, wrapping around Roach’s neck loosely, providing only a slight pressure as he continued muttering filth. “Fucking slut, practically squeezing my cock. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

“Fuck,” Roach whined, “You fucking perv, gonna be stroking your cock thinking about this for the next year, aren’t you?” He wrapped his hands around Soap’s wrist, lightly holding his hand in place against his neck. “Probably draw this in your little book of fantasies you sick fuck.” 

Soap groaned at the words, a small smirk formed on his lips as he responded, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a copy to have.” He tightened his grip momentarily, just flexing his hands. It reminded Roach of the power that the man had over him at the moment, and it only made him feel that much closer to spilling over Soap’s cock. 

“Bet you’d like that,” Roach had to work around his moans and the heavy breathing that a simple hand on his throat caused. “Probably imagine me with my fingers on my clit, maybe riding a cock screaming your name.”

Soap grasped tight to his neck then, using the grip to guide Roach’s back from the ground until they were face to face. He tilted his head, a nasty snarl on his face, “Now who’s the fucking dog.” He was quick to grab Roach’s arms, manhandling him around until he was on his hands and knees, Soap’s cock still spearing in and out of him. “Let me fuck you like the dog you are.” A short moment passed before Roach could feel a warm metal settle around his neck. A single look down and he could see that it was Soap’s I.D. disk. The mere sight of it was enough to have him moaning out, his arms giving out under him and forcing him to fall forward roughly against the tile. “And there’s my bitches collar.” 

Roach was sure that people outside of the locker room had to be able to hear them. There was no way that they couldn’t, not when Soap was fucking into his cunt so violently and pulling screams of his name from his lips like flowing wine. He couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t keep quiet. Not when his body was burning hot, contrasting with such a heavenly feeling against the cool tile of the floor. Not when he was sure that he wasn’t going to be walking straight by the time Soap finished with him. Not when he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to resist another night like this with the pervert slamming his cock inside of him. 

He couldn’t form any words, couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate. He couldn’t get his brain to provide any help, his mind so foggy that any thoughts of insults were long past what he was capable of. All that he could do was scream and whine and beg for Soap to keep going. Keep going because it was the best he’d ever had. Keep going because he was so fucking desperate for him. Keep going because he was right there, right there at the edge. 

Soap never stopped. Roach could hear his smug laughter and he could practically see that smug fucking smirk on his face, but it did nothing to cut through the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through him. The pleasure built and built until his toes were curling and his cunt was clenching and he was coming over Soap’s cock with his vision going black and a pitiful scream pulled from his mouth. 

He could hardly register anything. Not Soap’s hips stuttering and the curses falling from his lips. Not the choked-out delight that the man gave as he fucked into Roach only a few more times before creating even more of a mess by filling him with his cum. Not the way that Soap continued to move, fucking his cum into Roach. Not even the slick dripping down his legs to pool into the puddle he’d created on the ground, the remnants of one of the most intense orgasms that he’d had in his life. 

When he finally was able to realize what was going on around him, it was because he was being lifted from the ground, Soap’s cock still snug inside of his cunt as he was forced to wrap his legs around the other's waist and his arms around his neck. He could only watch dumbly as Soap brought them over to one of the shower stalls and turned the handle, shocking them both with a burst of cold water over their bodies. It was soon soothed by a stream of warm water, though Roach thought perhaps the cold would have been better as he was pressed against the wall of the little shower stall. 

“Not done with you yet,” Soap grunted, his eyes still showing a sort of intense hunger that had Roach’s cunt pulsing with need. “I’ve got other ways to make you scream my name and I don’t think I’ve heard you begging quite enough for my tastes. Have to put my dog to work, don’t I?”

Roach was walking with a limp the next day. His legs were still shaky and there were bruises on his thighs and his neck and he was sure he looked exhausted. Soap hadn’t let him get too much sleep the night before. Plain and simple, Roach was sure he looked a mess as he stumbled into the conference room where Gaz, Ghost, and Price were waiting for him and Soap. 

Soap wasn’t there yet, a bit of a blessing as Roach was sure that he wouldn’t be able to handle looking at the man quite yet. It was too much, too soon. He needed a moment around the others before he could face Soap again. God knows when he’d be able to face the man alone again. 

As he stumbled into the conference room, he did his best to look as normal as he could. It clearly didn’t work as, within a second, Ghost was at his side. His arm wrapped around Roach’s waist, his hand grabbing at his upper thigh to help stabilize him as he stood. Roach felt himself go a bit red, noticing the scrutinizing gaze that Price sent his way. Gaz seemed to be watching him just as closely as though he was also trying to figure out what had happened. 

“Not going to fall on me, are you?” Ghost asked, his voice dropping into a soft mutter. 

Roach was quick to shake his head, an embarrassed smile lighting up his face. “No, sorry I uh, rough night last night.”

Price leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m guessing Soap finally stopped with his little games and took you like he wanted?”

Roach could feel shock rush through his body, nearly knocking him over and forcing him to lean further onto Ghost for support. Ghost didn’t seem to mind much, simply, tightening his grip. “You,” he stuttered over himself for a moment, “You knew?”

“What,” Gaz was the one who chimed in, a small innocent smile on his face, “You think Soap was making those drawings just for him? Think he was able to sneak into your room so easily without a key from the cap?” He leaned forward then, tapping the table and shaking his head at Roach, “Didn’t think you were that naive, Bug.”

Roach gaped at the two men for a moment, his eyes shooting between them. “Maybe,” Price started, reaching into one of his pockets to pull out a cigar, “he’ll share some of the new ones, based on the real thing with us.” 

“Fuck,” Gaz gave a groan and leaned back in his seat, his eyes dragging along Roach’s body. “Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll share the real thing with us.” 

“I think,” Roach felt dizzy for a moment, “I think I need to sit down.”

Immediately, Ghost started helping him toward one of the seats at the little conference table, but Roach wasn’t a fool. He could feel Ghost’s hand slide purposely from his thigh over his ass, grasping at him for a short moment before sliding his hand up to trace along his waist. Roach nearly fell into the seat as soon as he was able, his eyes wide as he looked up at Ghost. “You too?” 

Ghost made a point to lean close to him, so close that Roach could feel his breath through the mask before he finally whispered, “Sounded good yelling for Johnny last night. You’ll sound better screaming for me.” 

He stood up straight then, as though he hadn’t said anything at all, and started back toward his seat, plopping down with a casual move that had Roach feeling dizzy. 

He supposed he should have seen this coming. After all, the only way that Soap could have gotten away with all that he did was if he had a team backing him. A team with the same perverted fantasies running through their minds. 

[hywonuka]

lost all my dignity | jww

every step that i take is a mistake to you, chapter 2

Sypnosis: 2 weeks into the dare and Wonwoo feels like he has made no progress, but he doesn’t pressure himself. After all, he has time. Or at least that’s what he thought, as someone new comes on the scene.

Pairing: college!wonwoo x college!fem!reader

Genre: college au, falling for a bet or dare trope, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, jealous wonwoo

Word count: 1.8K

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Cold January mornings were one of Wonwoo’s biggest enemies. Waking up early on a cold January morning was his biggest enemy. Make it even worse by waking up early on Sunday, but he couldn’t say no to Jeonghan whenever he called him to eat breakfast together. Even if it meant leaving the comfort of his bed, he couldn’t ditch one of his closest friends, so he got up and picked up some of his warmest clothes, as he has a busy day today. He wasn’t only meeting up with Jeonghan for breakfast, but also for tutoring some junior student and, after lunch, he was meeting up with Y/N. He froze as he remembered that.

The task given to them wasn’t the most difficult, but it required a lot of work. Y/N thought of displaying some of the Art and Design students artwork, and needed screens for that. But she also needed everything to be perfect, as she had insisted to Wonwoo. There were also some Dramatic Art’s students that wanted to do a performance, which required the need of a computer engineer and, of course, Wonwoo was asked to do it.

He sighed as he left his dorm room, carrying all what he needed for today in his backpack. At least he would get to spend some time with Y/N, which he needed. It has already been 2 weeks of the dare, and he has made no improvement. He can’t afford losing against Vernon, not when his dignity was in game.

“You seem pretty lost in thought” Jeonghan pointed out, as he took a sip of his dark coffee. “Have a lot on mind lately”.

“Is it about the open day stuff?? It’s at the beginning of March, I don’t even know why she is so eager on getting stuff done now”

“She said something about the Dramatic Art’s students needing to practice for their performance or something like that”. The tallest one said, taking a bite of his chocolate croissant. It’s not like he minded , after all it benefits him, and he also liked helping her.

“Damn…” Wonwoo looked at the blonde guy suspiciously. He knew his friend and knew there was something behind that damn.

“What is it?”

“Nothing”

“Liar” Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders, laughing, which made Wonwoo wonder what did his friend have in mind, but he couldn’t ask, as Vernon suddenly appeared and took a seat next to him. The youngest one smiled at his friends and took a bite of Wonwoo’s breakfast.

“Morning fellas” He said, munching the piece of croissant he stole from the one with glasses. “Hmmm, dark chocolate, great choice Wonwoo”

“I didn’t give you permission to eat my food, idiot” The youngest one stuck his tongue at Wonwoo, while Jeonghan laughed at them.

“Well, well, Vernon, do you happen to have any plans today?”

“Not really, today is my day off, why?”

“Would you come to the cinema with me? I proposed it to Wonwoo, but he is busy with some lady” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. Of course, Vernon smirked when he listened to that, and decided to tease Wonwoo.

“Oooh, are you finally overcoming your fear of women?? Will you ask her out, huh?” The tallest one looked at his friend, serious. He wanted to slap him. How could he ask her out if he can’t even make small talk without freaking out?

“Vernon, behave. You shouldn’t tease him that much, c’mon, he might finally lose his virginity!!” As those words escaped Jeonghan’s mouth, both him and Vernon started laughing loudly, driving all the attention to their table, while Wonwoo could feel his cheeks turning red. Why did they have to keep mentioning that, for God’s sake!!

Before he could speak up, the sudden entrance of two people at the cafeteria made him shut down. It was Y/N and… Chan.

From the last weeks, Wonwoo had learnt that they both were really close, something he didn’t like. At all. He couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much, it just bothered him. Vernon and Jeonghan noticed the change of demeanour of his friend, and quickly discovered why.

“Scared you are gonna lose because she already has a boyfriend?” Vernon whispered, unable to Jeonghan to listen. Wonwoo threw his napkin at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of her and Chan dating made him feel uneasy.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

The day passed by pretty quickly, and now Wonwoo found himself in the Art and Design faculty building, looking for Y/N and getting whatever she had on mind done. He had a hard time tutoring today, and wasn’t in the mood of doing anything at all. So, when he finally found her, laughing along with Chan (God, did he know the concept of personal space?), his face completely changed. He was annoyed, but only because he didn’t want to lose that dare.

“Oh, hi Wonu!” Wonwoo faked a smile at the nickname Y/N had picked for him. She thought it was cute and fitted him. He wouldn’t say he secretly enjoyed when she said that. “Hey, you two. Why is he here?”

“Wonu, this is Chan, one of Dramatic Art former students. Chan, this is Wonu, he is in charge of all the electronic part”

Wonwoo already knew Chan. He met the short blonde guy at some Jeonghan’s party a couple years ago. He even remembers he was accompanying her. Maybe they have been secretly dating since then?

“It's a pleasure” The tall one said, shaking hands with the other guy. “The pleasure is mine”

“Chan will be joining us today with the preparations!! He takes part in the performance, so i thought it would be nice if he was around, telling us how to display the screens better”

So he was there basically to do part of his job? Great, what a way to finish the day. This only made things worse, how is he even gonna dare to break a couple just for a stupid bet?! He was better than that.

He needed to know if it was just the voices in his head or if they were both truly dating, so he did what a normal person would do: ask someone else.

[wonwoo]: hey hao

[wonwoo]: can i ask u smth?

He waited, as he pretended to be connecting some wires to his laptop. God, what was taking his friend so long?!

[minghao psycho]: sure

God, finally. Wonwoo looked around, making sure both of them were busy doing whatever.

[wonwoo]: are y/n and chan dating????

He could see his friend typing. Oh, great, he can see it coming. Minghao was gonna scold him for not caring if she was already with someone else earlier.

[minghao psycho]: not that im aware

[minghao psycho]: but they are hella close

[wonwoo]: thx man

Wonwoo sighed. Well, Minghao didn’t scold him, that was something good. He was about to put his phone in his back pocket, when a sudden vibration made him look again. It was Minghao. Okay, now he was fucked up.

[minghao psycho]: honestly i cant believe you are asking this NOW and to ME like wtf??? you have been 2 weeks onto this dare and you only care bout her relationship status when you realize she might be taken?? and not only that, you come ask me?? im not even close to them dude

[wonwoo]: ur girl is

[minghao psycho]: im not asher

[minghao psycho]: hope they are actually dating so you feel bad bout attempting to break a couple

[minghao psycho]: was about to type breaking as if you actually could lmao

Wonwoo was tempted to block Minghao. God, yeah, he was wrong about the whole dare thing, but he was drunk and didn’t think straight when he accepted, and now it’s not like he could back out and pretend it never happened. He had to win this. His pride was in game at this point.

He looked back at Chan and Y/N. They were focused on their conversation, acting touchy and laughing with each other. The sight of them together made him want to throw up. He had to do something. No, he needed to do something.

He took a long breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He finished connecting all the wires, and walked straight where Chan and Y/N were talking. The blonde guy was doing some sort of dance, that made her laugh. He truly couldn’t stand the sight of it, so he approached them with quicker steps. He was about to call out her name, when he stepped onto his shoelaces and felt himself falling down. He would have completely fallen onto the floor if it wasn’t due to a strong arm holding him.

“Dude, everything is okay?” Chan asked, still holding Wonwoo in his arms, who was completely red. He has made a complete fool of himself, and the worst part is that he couldn’t see a thing.

“Fuck, my glasses…” The tallest one whispered, cursing under his breath. The frame of his glasses were broken in half. Great, those had been expensive, and now he has to pay again for them to get repaired. He couldn’t even look for them, as Chan kept him in his embrace, and it’s not like he could actually see them.

“Wonu, are you okay?” Fuck, he also has humiliated himself in front of her.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine…”

“Let me fix your glasses”

“Huh? There is no need, Y/N, it’s… fine”

“Don’t be stupid, Wonu. I’ll fix it… Gimme a sec”

“She is really good with her hands, she will fix them” What did Chan just say?! Wonwoo felt his face turning completely red, he really hoped none of them noticed… Wait, how did Chan know that? No way. They were actually dating.

He didn’t notice when the shorter one stopped grabbing him, or when she left looking for adhesive tape. He was way too lost in thought for that. He couldn’t focus on anything else, not now that he saw clearly that Chan and Y/N were together. Why did it hurt so badly? It was just a stupid dare, he had no reason to feel that way.

“Are you fine?” Chan’s voice brought Wonwoo to reality. He hated that guy now.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks for catching me” He might hate him, but he wasn’t rude.

“It’s nothing…”

Silence. Great, what Wonwoo needed right now, a tense atmosphere. He wanted to leave and hide under his blanket. He could feel Chan’s eyes on him, but completely ignored it. He would blame it on his poor eyesight and the lack of his glasses if the other guy ever mentioned it.

After a couple minutes, that felt like hours, she returned with his glasses taped. She gave them to him, who looked at his glasses with a hint of sadness.

“It’s the best I could do…”

“Don’t worry Y/N, it’s not your fault… Thanks…” He said, shyly smiling at him. God, he couldn’t wait for this awful day to end.

A/N: i wanted to have this done for sunday but uni is absolutely killing me TT i rlly hope i can get to write next chapter soon cuz its one of my relax moments hehe… anyways, any thoughts on chan and y/n relationship and how it can affect wonwoo?? hehehe anyways hope yall like im gonna get some rest mwaks

Taglist: @adonisbtch @mydearhangel @wonvsmile @wonuilu @peachyaeger @minwonwoozi @syluslittlecrows @divigo @coupsgfsstuff @jennwonwoo

[acesandocs]

Before I post the short story I've been working on, I wanted to introduce some of Ace’s family, since they're going to be featured. I tried to edit it down to the important stuff but if anyone wants to know more just ask.

Solveig Liv Årud/Sylvia Hall, Ace's Mother

Ace's mom Solveig was born in Kapp along with her two brothers, One of her neighbors was a music teacher and taught her to play the Hardanger fiddle. When she was seventeen she became pregnant by one of her neighbor's students but was urged by her neighbor to never tell him or anyone else of the child's parentage. Having had Ace outside of wedlock Solveig faced a lot of social ostracisation. Her sister in law, who was deeply religious judged Solveig for having a child without marrying. A rumor amongst the townspeople was that Ace's father was actually a fossegrim, that Solveig agreed to have a child with in exchange for teaching her to play the fiddle so well. (there is actually a lot to say on how this affected Ace and his view of himself but we don't have time to get into it rn). After a flood made her and her family homeless they emigrated to America in 1920 at the advice of some friends.

Once they arrived in New York Ace became very ill and bedridden causing them to be left behind as the rest of their family continued further up to Minnesota. While Ace was sick Solveig met and later fell in love with a Swedish immigrant named Eric Hall. She married Eric after knowing him for half a year. Solveig had kept Ace close all her life and not really letting her grow up or stand on her own. So he reacted badly to Solveig marrying. Being jealous and being unable to deal with not being her mothers center of attention, making him lash out. After an argument where Solveig slapped Ace for being disrespectful to her stepfather Ace ran away from home. Ace and Solveig have been estranged ever since, both being too stubborn to try to reconcile. After Solveig married Eric she tried very hard to adapt to American culture, Americanizing her name to Sylvia and trying her best to learn English and not speak with an accent. She currently has two children with Eric. Neither them nor Ace know of each other's existence.

Torbjørn Olaug Årud and Lena Årud, Ace's Grandparents

Lena was born in Kapp and Torbjørn was born in the Lofoten area. He traveled down to Toten to live with a family friend after he became orphaned. He later met Lena and they eventually married. They later had 2 sons, the youngest of them dying after moving away as an adult, later they had a daughter they named Solveig. When Solveig became pregnant at seventeen they decided to support her and help her take care of their granddaughter. In the years immediately after Ace was born she and Solveig lived with them before moving into a smaller house on their property. By this time their oldest had married and taken over the main house on the farm and Torbjørn and Lena moved into another small house on the property.

They emigrated to America with the rest of their family in 1920 and went with the rest to Minnesota leaving Solveig and Ace behind. Lena later died in 1922 after becoming sick. Ace does not know this happened.

Info on the art:

Ace is supposed to be a tortoiseshell cat, witch is something that can be seen in her mother and grandmother as well. this is a reference to the fact that tortoiseshells are mostly female. (source)

Her grandfather is supposed to be a Norwegian forest cat.

The implement Solveig is holding is called a Lyster and it is used to fish. Lyster fishing was usually done when it was dark out, using the Lyster to stab the fish. it was banned in the 1860 but was most likely still practiced afterwards. Today it has become completely illegal. The fish in the bucket are trout, a fish that was commonly caught with a Lyster. (source) Here is a painting depicting it.

I apologize for any spelling mistakes or weird wording, i try my best to read though these before i post them but some mistakes often slip through.

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 13: Vincent's Appraisal

Summary: Introducing Klaus as Vincent, the head coffee barista of the Black Bird's kitchen team. Genre: general Word count: 800 A/N: Klaus's art for the series was commissioned from @crazycookiemaniac.

..........

A file was slapped onto Klaus’s desk without warning before a sharp “What the hell is this?” was asked. Klaus looked up to see his father, Lawrence, giving him a steely glare. His eyes darted to the manila folder. Taking another glance at Lawrence, Klaus got the impression he was meant to check the contents. So he opened it.

“Ah.” Klaus immediately recognized the document by the first sentence. “Those are my recent reviews to be considered for publication.”

“Then I’m rejecting them right now!” Lawrence snapped. “It’s all shallow garbage that doesn’t say anything meaningful!”

“Bwah!” Klaus shot up to his feet. “But I thoroughly explained how each business failed to perform to the standards of—”

Lawrence groaned, “Klaus, my boy… It’s not like there’s some formula for a perfect restaurant.” Klaus raised an eyebrow at his dad’s remark. “You’re overlooking the humanity that goes into those businesses. And that means things won’t be perfect.”

“Am I expected to ignore long wait times or inconsiderate staff?” Klaus questioned, not following Lawrence’s thoughts.

“Klaus…” Lawrence grimaced and rubbed his temples. “You gotta…” His head shot up. “You outta work somewhere and learn what it’s like behind the scenes!” Lawrence clapped a hand on Klaus’s—who’d entered a stupor—shoulder. “That’ll get you off your high horse and teach you to respect the working class.” He pulled Klaus from the desk. “C’mon, I’ve even got a friend who’ll help you get into a place.”

“B-b-but wait!” Klaus squawked, having come to his senses. “What would I even do?!”

…..

“Is the Fondue Pasta for Table #3 ready?”

The kitchen was loud but that question rang prominently to Klaus.

“Uh! No!” Klaus yelped back as he stared at his mistake. Blackened cheese sat atop a serving of pasta, with burnt specks also on the noodles and burnt smell rising from it. “Something went wrong!” Again. I’m really not meant to be a chef. “Can someone else take ov—”

“No way!” The head chef snapped from his place at the front of the kitchen. “You’re gonna be the one to start it over, Vincent. But first, go out there and let the table know why they’ll be waiting longer.” He gestured to the door leading to the dining area.

Klaus meekly complied and shuffled out, making his way to Table #3. He held his head up with as much pride as he could muster, not that it was much after his failure. His stomach dropped when his eyes saw who was at the table: his dad. Of all people to have to face…

“Sir Lunettes?” Klaus stated as he stepped up to Table #3. “I’m— Ahem… I’m Vincent, I work in the kitchen and—”

“Is there a reason why you’re out here?” Lawrence spoke in a clipped tone that made it hard for Klaus to believe the man was his father. “Something went wrong, didn’t it?”

“Well sir…” Klaus steeled himself. “I’m an inexperienced chef which caused me to mess up your order. Someone else will prepare your meal so please wait a bit longer.” He bowed at the waist. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmph.” Lawrence’s grunt made Klaus raise his head to see his father staring in a way he couldn’t read. “It’s nice that you admit your mistake but I hate leaving judgment on something incomplete.”

What was his father saying? Klaus’s work wasn’t incomplete, it ended in failure. Failure was failure and success was success. Right?

.....

Bittersweet and Decadent. The dessert was as its name implied, a dish that was indulgent to those who loved the mixing of bitter and sweet flavors. Something more could be said of it.

The dessert consisted of coffee jelly cubes over a layer of chocolate custard and topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. In summer, the topping was ice cream. Neither the sweetness of the custard and cream nor the acidity of the coffee could overpower the other. Each was a component to a harmonious whole.

Similarly, a business like the Black Bird was a mix of its failures and successes, with the former allowing for growth into the latter. Mistakes couldn’t be avoided but instead overcome to develop a more realized final form. It was all about balance. 

Klaus unlocked his phone and opened up his father’s review of the Black Bird. Lawrence gave a full five stars. He complimented the menu that, while not cohesive, was always good. He commented that the unorthodox style of service was entertaining, like watching performers in a play. His final statement was that the beauty of the cafe came from the fact that it was still learning and growing.

Klaus had a feeling that the comment was directed to him specifically. But it was only a hunch.

[whiskykisses]

[ taylor zakhar perez, cis male, thirty three, he/him ] is that tortuga’s very own MATIAS CARDENAS ? the SIREN at THE SIREN'S NEST has been around the island for ONE MONTH, and they remind us of LAUGHTER THAT HIDES SCARS BENEATH THE SURFACE, A SPIRIT MADE TO SOAR, STAYING UP ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT TO AVOID NIGHTMARES. people say they’re LOYAL & CURIOUS but we’ve heard they can be HOT HEADED AND RECKLESS too. rumour would have it that they have a NEUTRAL view on pirates, but one thing’s for sure—they’d better get used to them.

attention: this bio includes mentions of physical abuse tw, child abandonment tw, anxiety tw, murder tw, and unhingedness.

A drifter form a young age, having been given away at the age of ten, Matias has never known what home is.

He was sold for a decent amount of pounds to his uncle who ruled over the boy with an iron fist. He was taught to wield a sword and shot a gun since the day his uncle first got him, and his training intensified as the days went on. If he stepped out of line then he was met with his punishment, which ranged between being shoved in a cage for days without being checked on or minor as simply getting a harsh hand slapped across his face. Despite the harshness of his childhood, he loved his uncle nonetheless.

He was seventeen when the pirates boarded the small vessel his uncle owned in the middle of the night. It was during one of his punishments in the cage, which rendered him useless in able to help, and his uncle met death that night. Matias was sure he would be meeting the same fate when he heard footsteps rushing down to the lower end of the ship, noises of crates being broken, whispers of where the good stuff was probably located, until those footsteps got to his cage. The door opened quicker than Matias could blink and he was shoved against the wall even faster. What could’ve been the end of everything for the boy ended up being the beginning, because they did not kill him. He doesn’t know why the pirate put a finger to their lips in a hush noise and even less why they left him there with just a small cut to his neck. Not deep enough to kill him by excessive bleeding but deep enough to leave a scar.

He’s twenty five now and experienced in the art of survival. It was also at this age that he would live the next eight years as the worst years of his life. He found himself upon a brothel in one of the towns he had been dropped off at and for the next eight years that brothel became his prison. He didn’t know when he agreed to work for the overzealous owner that he would also be signing over his freedom. But being offered a roof over his head, he took it. He realized his mistake when he awoke with a chained ankle and locked door. Matias tried to fight only to quickly learn that was worse than simply accepting what his fate was now. Trapped in a room, in an unknown town, with no one out there looking for him, and under the watchful eye of a power hungry man.

Eventually, during what would be his last year at the brothel, Matias is given the freedom of being unshackled. He didn’t run at first because he had been beat enough to understand he was no better than the life his boss had given him. It wasn’t until one night when he was visited by one of his regular clients, a man with a fist full of too man rings, that things took a turn for the worst. Matias’s body had grown tired of the bruising, malnutrition, and constant mishandling between his clients as well as his master. In the middle of the scuffle he managed to grab hold of the clients wrist to stop it from hitting his face, again, those heavy rings just inches from his cheek. He pushed the man off, grabbed the nearest sharp object he could find, and in a blink of an eye everything was over. Blood trickled to his feet and Matias ran. He ran onto the first ship he could find as refuge, hidden below deck, praying to the gods that he wouldn’t be discovered until they were at the next town.

He doesn’t know when he ended up falling asleep but it was probably the most peaceful sleep he’s had in years. He awoke in the town of Tortuga. It wasn’t much, but it was a place far from where he had been last. It was a safe place…for now. Matias swore he would never go back to a brothel, yet he ended up doing exactly that. He isn’t too sure how long he plans to stick around.

Fun Facts:

He has never known stability and therefore he tries to run from it as often as possible. He’s content at the Sirens Nest for now but every night he packs his bags determined to leave and yet he doesn’t.

He is quick to flinch but even quicker to fight someone off if a hand comes flying in his direction too fast, even if it’s just someone swatting at him in a playful matter. It’s just an instinct at this point. He doesn’t mean anything by it, and he hates that he can’t control it.

He does not sleep. Perhaps he might sleep for about an hour maybe four at the most but that’s about as good as it gets. He is terrified of sleeping because he thinks he’s going to end up in his old brothel again, locked away with no escape.

Laughter and joking around hides a lot of pain beneath his gentle smile.

Sex is just sex. Nothing more and nothing less. He does not let himself get attached to clients as he’s never met a client worthy of such a thing. Does he think one day it’ll happen? No. He doesn’t believe love exists for a person like himself, not when his own parents didn’t even want him.

Personality:

Tender and loving with a splash of mischievousness thrown into the mix. He is the kind of person who will both sit and listen to you yap but also doze off if you’re yapping about something that doesn’t interest him. He also gets extremely awkward if someone is being to loving towards him because it’s a foreign thing and he is not sure how to even accept it.

Sexuality:

He’s bisexual as fuck.

Relationships status:

Single as fuck. He doesn’t know what a monogamous relationship ship is…because he’s never had one. Everyone should just love everyone. That’s his motto and he’s sticking to it. Unless the right person comes along.

[unwrtnskies]

[ taylor zakhar perez, cis male, thirty three, he/him ] is that tortuga’s very own MATIAS CARDENAS ? the SIREN at THE SIREN'S NEST has been around the island for ONE MONTH, and they remind us of LAUGHTER THAT HIDES SCARS BENEATH THE SURFACE, A SPIRIT MADE TO SOAR, STAYING UP ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT TO AVOID NIGHTMARES. people say they’re LOYAL & CURIOUS but we’ve heard they can be HOT HEADED AND RECKLESS too. rumour would have it that they have a NEUTRAL view on pirates, but one thing’s for sure—they’d better get used to them.

attention: this bio includes mentions of physical abuse tw, child abandonment tw, anxiety tw, murder tw, and unhingedness.

A drifter form a young age, having been given away at the age of ten, Matias has never known what home is.

He was sold for a decent amount of pounds to his uncle who ruled over the boy with an iron fist. He was taught to wield a sword and shot a gun since the day his uncle first got him, and his training intensified as the days went on. If he stepped out of line then he was met with his punishment, which ranged between being shoved in a cage for days without being checked on or minor as simply getting a harsh hand slapped across his face. Despite the harshness of his childhood, he loved his uncle nonetheless.

He was seventeen when the pirates boarded the small vessel his uncle owned in the middle of the night. It was during one of his punishments in the cage, which rendered him useless in able to help, and his uncle met death that night. Matias was sure he would be meeting the same fate when he heard footsteps rushing down to the lower end of the ship, noises of crates being broken, whispers of where the good stuff was probably located, until those footsteps got to his cage. The door opened quicker than Matias could blink and he was shoved against the wall even faster. What could’ve been the end of everything for the boy ended up being the beginning, because they did not kill him. He doesn’t know why the pirate put a finger to their lips in a hush noise and even less why they left him there with just a small cut to his neck. Not deep enough to kill him by excessive bleeding but deep enough to leave a scar.

He’s twenty five now and experienced in the art of survival. It was also at this age that he would live the next eight years as the worst years of his life. He found himself upon a brothel in one of the towns he had been dropped off at and for the next eight years that brothel became his prison. He didn’t know when he agreed to work for the overzealous owner that he would also be signing over his freedom. But being offered a roof over his head, he took it. He realized his mistake when he awoke with a chained ankle and locked door. Matias tried to fight only to quickly learn that was worse than simply accepting what his fate was now. Trapped in a room, in an unknown town, with no one out there looking for him, and under the watchful eye of a power hungry man.

Eventually, during what would be his last year at the brothel, Matias is given the freedom of being unshackled. He didn’t run at first because he had been beat enough to understand he was no better than the life his boss had given him. It wasn’t until one night when he was visited by one of his regular clients, a man with a fist full of too man rings, that things took a turn for the worst. Matias’s body had grown tired of the bruising, malnutrition, and constant mishandling between his clients as well as his master. In the middle of the scuffle he managed to grab hold of the clients wrist to stop it from hitting his face, again, those heavy rings just inches from his cheek. He pushed the man off, grabbed the nearest sharp object he could find, and in a blink of an eye everything was over. Blood trickled to his feet and Matias ran. He ran onto the first ship he could find as refuge, hidden below deck, praying to the gods that he wouldn’t be discovered until they were at the next town.

He doesn’t know when he ended up falling asleep but it was probably the most peaceful sleep he’s had in years. He awoke in the town of Tortuga. It wasn’t much, but it was a place far from where he had been last. It was a safe place…for now. Matias swore he would never go back to a brothel, yet he ended up doing exactly that. He isn’t too sure how long he plans to stick around.

Fun Facts:

He has never known stability and therefore he tries to run from it as often as possible. He’s content at the Sirens Nest for now but every night he packs his bags determined to leave and yet he doesn’t.

He is quick to flinch but even quicker to fight someone off if a hand comes flying in his direction too fast, even if it’s just someone swatting at him in a playful matter. It’s just an instinct at this point. He doesn’t mean anything by it, and he hates that he can’t control it.

He does not sleep. Perhaps he might sleep for about an hour maybe four at the most but that’s about as good as it gets. He is terrified of sleeping because he thinks he’s going to end up in his old brothel again, locked away with no escape.

Laughter and joking around hides a lot of pain beneath his gentle smile.

Sex is just sex. Nothing more and nothing less. He does not let himself get attached to clients as he’s never met a client worthy of such a thing. Does he think one day it’ll happen? No. He doesn’t believe love exists for a person like himself, not when his own parents didn’t even want him.

Personality:

Tender and loving with a splash of mischievousness thrown into the mix. He is the kind of person who will both sit and listen to you yap but also doze off if you’re yapping about something that doesn’t interest him. He also gets extremely awkward if someone is being to loving towards him because it’s a foreign thing and he is not sure how to even accept it.

Sexuality:

He’s bisexual as fuck.

Relationships status:

Polyamorous as fuck. He doesn’t know what a monogamous relationship ship is…because he’s never had one. Everyone should just love everyone. That’s his motto and he’s sticking to it. Unless the right person comes along.

[tehuti88-art]

3/21/25: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Unnamed Father and Unnamed Mother. These are the parents of Teal Rat, whose story is already in my art blog. Neither one plays any role in raising him, and he never gets to meet his father. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

TUMBLR EDIT: The awful story of Teal Rat and his relationship...or lack thereof...with his biological parents is given in detail in his own entry. The rest of this entry will be individualized to avoid repetition.

(Please NOTE that I made a weird dumb mistake here, and outlined Unnamed Mother's story before Unnamed Father's, although his artwork is first! The way I tell the story depends on her story being first. So, my weird dumb solution: This is Unnamed Mother's artwork, yet Unnamed Father's part of the story. And his entry will contain her story. Sorry about this dumb confusion, my bad!)

Please firstly see Unnamed Father's entry for Unnamed Mother's part of the story.

Unnamed Father makes a bad decision, just like Unnamed Mother; I believe he knows she's married, yet somehow the two meet, are infatuated, have their affair. He's genuinely fond of her, hopes she feels the same, maybe she'll seek a divorce. He doesn't want to be a homewrecker but emotions are irrational things. His hopes are promptly dashed when she ends the affair, abruptly and without explanation--he tries asking, repeatedly, what's wrong, why is she doing this, but she refuses to explain, just tells him never to contact her again, she has nothing to say. And just like that, it's over. He's left hurt and confused and with the wound of unknowing that just can't be mended on its own. Everything had seemed just fine, what happened...? Was it him? Was it her? Without any way to answer his burning questions, he's forced to just go on never knowing, and slowly moves on.

The world goes through two wars. It isn't until after the second--which brings up a lot of raw feelings for people like Unnamed Father--that, by chance, he runs across her again. They're both quite a bit older but immediately recognize each other. She's uneasy and skittish when he addresses her but at least she stops for a brief chat. And as outlined toward the end of her part of the story (again, sorry for getting these out of order, ugh I'm a moron), she finally tells him the truth: He has a son. Aaron.

He's left stunned and numb in disbelief. Yet then does his best to shake it off, and determines to find his son, no matter what it takes.

He has very little to go on. So he starts digging. Uncle is dead, there's no asking him anything, but neighbors confirm that he raised a boy by himself. His search is stumped until one neighbor recalls a vital detail: While Aaron was packing up and leaving Uncle's place for good, she'd paused to look at some cooking utensils he was setting out, and he offered to let her take them, take anything she wanted, for free--he wouldn't need them where he was going. What did that mean? "Overseas," neighbor explains; "he was in uniform."

The military! Unnamed Father heads for the nearest military base, where Aaron was most likely to have trained. They try to be helpful, except when they go looking for Aaron So-&-So in their records, he isn't there. Unnamed Father is briefly disconsolate before he feels like slapping himself--he'd given them Unnamed Mother's married surname. Of course Aaron would have gone not by that but by her maiden name--Uncle's surname. He asks them to look up that name instead. They search, return a second time: There's no record of any Aaron Such-&-Such, but there IS an Erin Such-&-Such, is it possible he got the first name wrong...? Neighbors had mentioned how much Uncle hated Jews, so Unnamed Father's not too surprised that Aaron changed the Hebrew spelling of his name. Yes, that's who he's looking for (he hopes). The official does a bit more digging. Finds something, looks uneasy, directs him to another official. He meets with a gunnery sergeant named Evans who delivers the bad news that, while one Erin Such-&-Such did enlist and went overseas as part of a special military unit, he's since been declared deceased, and in the absence of any next of kin or religion named in his file, was interred in Germany.

Unnamed Father is stunned mute again. Evans, obviously sympathetic, offers to get him in touch with parties overseas who might have further information. Yet after gathering himself again, Unnamed Father asks if it would be possible for him to travel to Germany, now being divvied up between the various Allied nations, to visit his son's grave...? Evans seems skeptical, but promises to do what he can. A while later he provides Unnamed Father with all the proper documents and forms he'll need to secure passage and safe travel to eastern Germany to meet with the Trench Rats, the American forces with whom his son was last associated. Unnamed Father checks his passport, fills out the paperwork, answers all the security questions, boards a ship. Makes it to Europe, travels by train, stares out the windows in awe at the wreckage of Germany. Meets a contact at the railway station, switches to a military transport, heads to a sprawling complex in the city. Is checked over by guards before being allowed in. Finally meets with an American sergeant who introduces himself as Gold Rat, and informs him that here, his son was known as Teal.

This place they're in right now, he's surprised to learn, was once the headquarters of an SS-funded project that Teal was involved in; it's all rather complicated for Gold to explain, so he says he's going to pair him up with Lance Corporal Mahogany, who knows all the records like the back of his hand and if something is out there to find, he can surely find it. Gold and Mahogany were there to see the spot where Teal was buried. Gold is busy with other things, but if he'd like to visit Teal's grave, Mahogany can take him. Unnamed Father agrees.

Mahogany tends to be overly chatty when given the chance, but Unnamed Father wants to know everything, so he lets him talk the entire way there. They take a military truck out of the city and into the countryside, then upon reaching the forest, head off on foot. It's quite a long walk. Mahogany explains Alpha Squad and the early Trench Rats (before his time, yet he's read all the material), the rescue of Doomsday and Teal's capture, the German attack on HQ and everything after. Unnamed Father is despondent to learn how long his son spent in captivity, how for so long he was blamed for things that weren't his fault. When Mahogany mentions how when he consulted Teal's file to determine what to do with his body after his suicide, the sections for next of kin and religion were left blank, it hits hard...his son chose to cut himself off from anything and anyone that might have provided a sense of belonging in his life, and Unnamed Father doesn't understand why. He's been there the entire time. He wouldn't have turned him away. Teal reached out to his mother...why didn't he reach out to him?

Mahogany leads him far into the forest, over tumbled boulders and fallen trees and gurgling brooks, and at last to a pool at the bottom of a small but steep drop; a waterfall descends from above. The Trench Rat pauses to catch his breath and his bearings, looks around, lights up--"There!" he points, and clambers over a few rocks, Unnamed Father following. "Here," Mahogany says, squeezing water from his clothes and gesturing at a stone slab, "this is where we buried him." He doesn't notice Unnamed Father's flinch at his blunt language, but Unnamed Father says nothing. "Sergeant Camo--oh, you don't know him--but anyway, he said that Teal located this place while doing reconnaissance and seemed to admire it, he came here often. He suggested this place to bury him since there was nowhere else. We had to move this slab here, but it made a nice headstone." He finally looks up at Unnamed Father, blinks, goes red. "Oh...I'm sorry. I don't think sometimes...I realize that sounded crass. I didn't mean it that way..."

"I think I know what you meant," Unnamed Father says past the lump in his throat, "you meant he would've been happy here." Mahogany relaxes a little; he'd looked genuinely dismayed with himself, but seems relieved not to have caused too much offense. He explains how Camo helped pick the spot and Teal was laid to rest. Unnamed Father wants to know more about his son as a person, how he ended up here, how his life ended; Mahogany says he honestly doesn't know much, but, noticing Unnamed Father's crestfallen look, hesitantly adds that there's ONE other person left, who was in a position to know more about Teal than the rest of them. He offers to get them in touch; Unnamed Father agrees. Before they leave, he pulls something from his pocket, places it upon the slab while Mahogany looks on curiously: a stone he brought with him from America, a small piece of the home Teal left behind.

When he at last meets this third party, at a large farmhouse out in the country, he learns why he was in such a good position to know things: Otto Himmel was the SS officer who oversaw the project Teal was involved in. Himmel is just as surprised to meet him and find out the truth that Teal successfully kept hidden about his past. He's reluctant to share too much info at first--"I'm not sure this is how you'd want to remember your son"--yet finally relents, and lets Unnamed Father know everything he does, including Teal's shocking attack on the doctor who victimized him, and the Trench Rat surgeon's account of how Teal took his own life, as he felt overwhelmed by guilt, and had nothing left to live for.

Unnamed Father's heart is broken. He wishes so much that his son had just reached out to him, just once. Had known that there was at least one person out there who loved him, no matter what. Himmel seems to understand his grief, and although he's Catholic, even agrees to pray with him for Teal. Unnamed Father has never been particularly religious, rarely ever wears a kippah or attends synagogue, but he feels compelled to offer a prayer now, the smallest thing he can do. Himmel knows the words and joins him. He offers for Unnamed Father to join him and his family for supper. Unnamed Father thanks him but declines...he needs some time to himself, to grieve the son he never met and has already lost, and then he needs to head home. He hates leaving him behind but he can't stay, and he can't bring Teal back home with him. Himmel promises to ask Mahogany to check on Teal's grave now and then, and says he himself will visit when he can (a bit of a hardship as he's rather lame in one leg, yet he'll manage), and keep Teal in his own prayers. He tells Unnamed Father that if he ever returns to Germany, please visit; at his home, everyone is family. And his son, who was also in the project, shyly offers Unnamed Father a small gift before he goes: a drawing he made of Teal from memory. Unnamed Father has no photos of his son; he swallows his tears as he thanks them, and departs.

Teal's story, IMO, is the most tragic one in the series (only Ratdog's/Adel's comes close); while everyone else deals with grief and loss, Teal doesn't even have anyone to grieve or lose; he spends his life fully believing no one loves him, no one wants or needs him, not even that one thing that's supposed to be there no matter what, family. (Even the Trench Rats basically abandon him.) He makes his own single big mistake in deciding it's not worth the trouble to find his father, convinced that if his own mother doesn't want him, surely his father doesn't, either. The tragic detail is that he's wrong, and he gives up this chance to find the one person who would be there for him. He then gives up completely and dies believing he has no one, he has no worth.

Some of these are feelings I know too well...I try to avoid writing characters who are like me, and Teal definitely isn't, but I wanted to write somebody who ends up truly hopeless, with no light at the end to keep him going. But like I said, Teal being completely unloved isn't the real tragedy, the real tragedy is that he IS loved...he just never tries to see it.

[Unnamed Mother (Teal) 2025 [‎Friday, ‎March ‎21, ‎2025, ‏‎12:36:12 AM]]

[grimsonandclover]

Oh my gosh DO IT. Art bends the girl over so he can look Tashi right in the eyes while he fucks the girl on their bed.

-🍑

Bend Over

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. Art x Reader x Tashi

Cheating, drinking, is this voyeurism? I actually don't really know and I dont feel like googling but yeah youre fucking and someones watching-- cuck chair. cuck bed? implied consent, unprotected sex w strangers, p n v, fingering, oral f receiving, threesome, revenge sex

Art can barely see the road when he's driving, tears building so much it blurs his vision. He's in no mental state to drive but he also can't stay in that fucking hotel.

He gave her his grandmother's ring. Her ring. Tashi knew what that meant to him. They were getting married in two months. Did it mean nothing to her?

There was Patrick again, swooping in to grab her attention. Why could art never win against him? He's not just thinking about tennis.

Art slams his fist against the top of the steering wheel, letting out a short sob with a hiccup. Fuck her. Fuck him. Why?

The tears are swept in the rearview mirror, smeared against his wrist as Art takes a deep breath. In, out. He never saw them kiss, maybe it was nothing.

It wasn't nothing. It was Patrick. Art's crying again.

It takes him a couple minutes to gather himself, eyes bloodshot when he pushes open the doors to the dingy local bar.

One drink, then another, then another. How many fucking drinks will it take? It blurs together like the road did. There's something at the other end of the bar, a pretty thing. You look as miserable as he does. Do you have a fiancee getting pummeled by an old friend right now? Art almost hopes so. Make the pain less singular, more plural. Someone else needs to hurt like he does.

Your name tastes like sugar, a chaser for the shots you order and split. "Let's be miserable together." You whisper against his lips. What a fucking dream. This has to be a hallucination.

Cab ordered, lips on necks in the backseat. Art's barely registering anything. It's like floating. Legs he didn't have any control over took him to the car, to the bar, to your chair, to the cab. Lips that don't feel like his own kiss at you, kiss on you. His name on yours is unfamiliar, it doesn't feel like his. It's all Tashi's.

He doesn't realize that by the time the two of you are at the hotel room, Tashi's back from her mistake. Eyes wide as she takes in the sight of her husband-to-be fumbling with the button on his jeans as another woman mouthes at his neck. She's on the bed, head in her hands while she called herself every name under the sun after coming back from Patrick's hotel. Maybe this was her karma.

When Art does look up, he gasps. Your eyes follow, a curse fumbling from your lips in shock. "Who- who is that!?"

Trembling and clumsy fingers push his curls back, taking a tired breath in. Something about the look of Tashi right now makes his jeans tighten more than they already were. "My fiancee."

Your head whips to him, then back to her. You feel like you should leave, but Art grabs your hand.

"The one that just slept with my best friend."

"He's not your best friend." Why'd she even say that? She wants to slap herself. Art scoffs. That made up his mind-- he'd almost turned and left.

"Fuck you."

It's almost self-serving for you, staying. You were also just cheated on. This feels like something you both deserve, getting back at the person who hurt you so completely. But, fuck, a best friend? You were almost grateful now that yours chose a coworker instead. You let Art push your shirt up, skirt down. You do the same for the stranger. Tonight, you'll be the only one loyal to him. A last fuck you to those incapable.

Tashi doesn't even know what to say or do. The guilt eats at her too much to move. He deserves this. She deserves this. She was weak enough to let Patrick get in her head and break her, weak enough to let Art pick up her pieces for her, weak enough to cheat. She'll be strong enough to watch her punishment.

He's pushing you over the edge of the bed, chest first. It's a nice hotel-- a great one. The thread count on these sheets probably costs as much as your rent. To defile them feels like another act of revenge on something greater.

You push up on your forearms when he bends you over, the carpet on your knees quite plush. Tashi looks you straight in the eyes. You close yours, though, when you feel her husband's tongue push into your entrance. "F-Fuck!"

It's sobering, the taste of you. It mixes with the taste of Tashi that he's so familiar with. He'd kissed her reassuringly before leaving her with her thoughts earlier. Then Patrick--

You almost jolt forward, head dropping to the mattress as two digits push into you, curling slow and deep. Your moans melt to whispers of a sound, fingers clenching the sheets. "Oh my god, please,"

Something's wrong with Tashi. She can't look away. Her eyes burn into the top of your head, flittering from your face of ecstasy to her fiance tongue first in your ass. It's like she's been stuck in a state of shock and something else ever since this all started. Thighs press together in discomfort and heat, her fingers clenching the sheets just as you do. Art's staring right at her over the swell of your ass and arching back. His biceps flex as he finger-fucks you, the sound so wet in the otherwise quiet room.

It's no time until a messy orgasm is pulled from you with his tongue and fingers and Art laps everything up. Arousal drips from his chin when he pulls up, grinning at Tashi. "Fuck you." He says again, and Tashi whimpers, curling back against the headboard.

With a squeeze to your ass and a hand rubbing up and down your spine as you come down, Art tugs off his jeans and boxers at once. He's already fully hard, red and leaking. Tashi almost wants to reach out, but no. She doesn't deserve to. Stay strong.

You're about to lift your head again when he's already sliding into you, the slick of your orgasm making it easy despite his size. Another small sound pulls from you, biting your lip. Your eyes lift back up to the woman again, making her feel what you feel. You almost say 'fuck you' to her, but it's not your place. Besides, you've forgotten all words by the time he starts snapping into you.

The sounds you make are bordering on pornographic, pressing your face back into the mattress, grasping onto sheets for something, anything. "Ah, ah, fuck, she's so fucking tight," Art groans, hands gripping your hips to thrust into your cunt. He's hitting that spot so deliciously you could cry. It's a miracle that you're able to push back up to your elbows, giving Tashi the perfect view of your fucked-out expression.

"Art-" Tashi doesn't even know what she's trying to say but she can't stay quiet any longer. His hips snap harder and you yell. There you flop back down again.

"Fuck you," He's breathless and moaning out the words now, "Fuck you, fuck Patrick. Have him-- you can, ah, ah, you can have him," His eyes turn to you, "Are you close?"

You can only nod. Your hands, by no means of your own, slide closer to Tashi as you grab the Egyptian cotton. She's fucking crazy. Your eyes snap open when you feel her manicured fingers wrap around yours, the weight of the stone on one of them pressing slightly against yours. You don't pull your hand away.

He's hitting that sweet spongy spot in you with every thrust and you tell him again that you're close. In a swift move Art pulls you up, your back against his chest, head leaning back on his shoulder as your knees try and hold you up along with his arms around your waist. He's still staring straight at Tashi while he whispers dirty words in your ear. "You're gonna fucking kill me, so fucking warm and tight. I can feel you're close, gonna squeeze me till I'm empty baby? In front of her?"

Tashi crawls forward on the bed and you can hear Art's breath catch. He wants to stop her, you can tell as much, but he can't. This is a bravado for him, she's taking back power. You're too whimpery and gone to do anything about it yourself.

You feel fingers slowly, timidly ghost your clit. You can still feel Art's arms around your waist, so you know they aren't his, and something about knowing that they're Tashi's makes you shiver. When you don't stop her, too, she starts moving them. Fast. Her free hand comes up to cup your face, a thumb sliding back and forth against your cheek.

"Fuck, oh my god," You'd lurch forward if it weren't for Art's arms. It's barely thirty seconds of her hands on you until you're crying out, clenching around him as muscles contract and fireworks go off in your head. Your hands dart out for anything to support you and they land on Tashi's shoulders. Words or sounds barely come out as the two of them help you ride it out, and then, before you know it, Art's thrusting once more, twice more, and spills.

He fills you to the brim in front of Tashi and she loves it.

[clovenoko]

thank you so much for your interest!! ☺️ I think I'll be talking a lot, so I apologize in advance!!

(there may be spoilers. various mistakes are possible, as I usually use an auto translator, sorry)

so, I usually name the characters according to the degree from the most insanely beloved to the "least": Jade, Trey, Cater, Ruggie (and Fellow) I've talked a lot about Jade, but I haven't talked about the others very often fr!!

so first of all, let's talk about Trey

(I'll leave my favorite Trey's cards and my arts!)

tbh, he looks like Jade to some extent (I realized this later) I love him so much! Trey also has a "second strange personality," which he carefully tries to hide, saying that he is absolutely "a normal guy." Trey interested 14 y/o me right away when he appeared on the screen while I was reading the main story (his voice was very pleasant, and the phrases he spoke were so caring that I wanted to get to know him better🫶🫶) and to my surprise, he didn't turn out to be the typical "kind senpai" who could be forever awkward "🥺👉👈" and smiling. he turned out to be much deeper and not more obvious! (like all the other twst characters, so I admire all the characters) he made a joke about mustard and deceived his younger ones!! he's obsessed with brushing teeth!! he tries not to stand out, even though he is really amazing! he's trying to be kind, he's trying to improve! he's not confident. Trey's understanding towards everyone is very valuable.

(the scene at the wedding event when Trey got slapped in the face and said something like "I knew it..." although he tried, it describes him well lmaoo my poor dear).

also, only Trey and Jade had crazy dreams in which familiar characters changed completely!! (my strange beloved boys, I love you!!) I want them to be friends, I like their interactions with each other and others. I love that Trey has his own "angst," which he didn't think was important, but it really hurt him...🥹 I like that he notices Riddle's problems and he understands that Cater doesn't want to get close to him at the moment. although his silence leads to mistakes, Trey is such a real character!! if I were to choose which character I look like, it would be him. Trey calls himself "normal" in his understanding, although he obviously hides his "oddities." but I think he really is. It's okay to be a little weird, kind, creepy, angry, and so on at some moments with some people, because personality is multifaceted.

THIS IS HUGE A POST

I'll write about the other characters later...

Trey is my second favorite character, so I talked too much... I hope it's not too sloppy

I feel like I would say more and more, remembering all the moments... oh, I'll tell you something else, my favorite (main story) rhythm game is where Trey helps us cook chestnut pie. if we don't score enough points, he'll fix everything and still praise us and the boys for doing a good job. it's so nice 😭😭

I hope it was interesting for you!! thanks for reading this, if you did ♡♡

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