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#I WANT MY FREE TIME BACK HOW DO YOU ADULTS DO IT
yuvany · 1 day
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#BAKING WITH ENHYPEN
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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 x female reader ⎯ CONTENT / WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT : 825 . . CHECK BOX .ᐟ
( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
You invited him over after seeing a video of a couple bake, and I mean, Heeseung ran over to you as quick as he saw your message. He enters your kitchen, where you had partially laid out all the equiptment and ingredients while he made his way over. He is about to start baking immedietly, but you stop him and tell him that he needs to wash his dirty hands first. "But my love, these hands hold the love I have for you." He pleads, holding his hands out dramatically. "Hee, that's disgusting. Wash your hands." You say, pulling him over to the sink.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
Jay suddenly had an innovative idea of a new pastery and urged you to come over and help him, by that he means observe. "babe, what was your idea?" you asked, seeing him rush into the kitchen and prep it while you slowly follow behind him. "I wanted to make a heart shaped version of your favourite." You chuckle, and begin washing your hands and putting on an apron since you know how he is with hygiene. Turns out it wasn't necessary because you became a kitchen princess. Jay did all the baking unless you asked to help, and let you lick all the utensils with dough and batter while you both washed the dishes together.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
"Jake, are you sure you have sugar?" you ask, and he nods. "Of course I do, even if I didn't, you'd suffice!" He winks, but you shrug it off with a chuckle. The first half of the recipe goes well becuase Jake did in fact have sugar in his pantry. Then you see Layla walk into the kitchen and you figure that you could leave him alone for just a moment, but turn out you were proven incorrect. Jake makes a discovery that he doesn't own a scale, and stop baking for a moment before he gives up on the recipe and free-styles. You return and sees that the batter is all clumpy and discoloured. "What did you do, babe." You ask, and see him smiling tensly.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
Is very excited becuase he gets to experience what a normal teenage experperience would be like even though he's an adult. Sunghoon looks up many recipes before showing you the one he finds is the more fitting and looks the best, becuase he wants whatever he does to be the best. You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek before handing him an apron. You two stick together and switch roles every time, and while it's your turn to measure the ignredients, you aren't as creful and exact as him. "You need to fill it a bit more." He says, and you say, "It'll be fine, Hoon."
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢
Is sneaky and adds extra of whatever he likes into the bowl whenever you aren't looking. You turned around to look at the recipe on your tablet after already adding the sugar, but Sunoo is fast and adds more to it, his reflexses are quick, and when you turn around, you see him standing there innocently with a smile on his face. You don't realise this until after the batter out of the oven, becuase when you take a bite of it, you can't help but feel like something is off even though you can't put your finger on it. "Is it supposed to taste like this?" You question. " I think it tastes perfect!"
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡
At the start, everything was cute and organised, but when Jungwon placed the batter into the oven, he started to get impatient while waiting and got an idea when he looked at his palms that were still covered in flour. A smirk spread across his face and you were unaware of what was going to happen since you were focused on your phone. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and when you turn around, you are met with a handful of flour hitting your face. You wipe it away, and quickly scanned the situation, doing the same as him, turning this into a flour battle. "Come back here!" You called out to Jungwon who was running away.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜
Tells you to sit back and watch him be 'Gordon Ramsay' even though you were the one who told him you wanted to bake for him. Every time you attempt to sneak into the kitchen to do something, he nudges you back out and tells you, "I'm a master, trust and you'll taste my amazing choco cake." Riki looks proud as he puffs out his chest with a smile. "If you say so." You shrug, and let him do what he wants. "y/n, do you know where the flour is?" He asks, and you walk over to a cabinet show him the bucket with flour. "So, am I qualified to be your assistant now?" you tease. "Sure, but I'll still be the one to bake for you." Riki says, kissing your hair.
TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa
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djarins-cyare · 1 day
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WIP Wednesday
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Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.
Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...
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***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***
“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”
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Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚
@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges
@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf
@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym
@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4
@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr
@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie
@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense
@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours
@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini
@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams
@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches
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alvivaarts · 2 days
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Internet Safety Tips for Folks Under 18! <3
I'm writing this because it was brought to my attention that at least one of my followers/readers is 11! Years! Old! How do I know this? Because they publicly announced it! AHH!!! OH NO!
This made me practically lose my mind, because holy shit, internet safety is NOT taught like it used to be!! Are there no more assemblies or class gatherings where you watch internet safety PSA videos anymore? Or learn about it in the library? Like shit!!! Anyway, here is, in the simplest terms, tips I learned when I was under 18 that have kept me not only alive, but thriving and happy on the internet.
What Information is Appropriate/Safe for Me to Share Online?
Very little! Very, VERY little! It would be easier if I told you what NOT to share online! DO NOT SHARE: -Your age/that you are a minor. -Your state, province, or country of origin. -When you are going to school/if you are starting school. -Establishments (restaurants, activity places, etc) that may or may not be in your local area. -Any medical diagnoses (mental or physical). -Any traumatic events or triggers. (We'll come back to this). -Any other details of your day-to-day schedule. -Details about your relationship with family members. -What you are/are not allowed to do. -Passwords or personal emails/phone numbers/contact points.
It's completely fine to share: -Your interests. -Fun anecdotes from your day. -Things you are excited about (not relating to your daily schedule). -What you're eating/drinking/making. -Etc.
I know it sounds cheesy, but you should make it your goal to be unidentifiable online. People do genuinely want to use this information, information about YOU for bad reasons. We already know that data brokers exist- and that there have been massive data leaks in the last few years regarding adults/18+ folks personal information. Those people usually have the agency and ability to reclaim some of that privacy and get their lives back on track. You don't. In addition to that, sharing little snippets of information about yourself from the 'do not share' category can build up over time. It might not feel like much at the time, but it can become pretty easy to identify you with even two or three of those pieces of information. We've seen no-profile having folks on TikTok be doxxed with less.
By that extent, I recommend minimizing the images you post of yourself online, especially if you cannot monitor/approve of who follows you. It can be equally as easy for strangers to figure out where you live based on images you share online, especially if those show your face and places your frequent. We can doubt that the GeoGeussr guy might not use his powers for evil, but plenty of other people absolutely can.
Who is Trustworthy Online?
Short Answer: NO ONE!
If someone you meet in a server says they're your age? No they're not! If someone says they want to be your friend and give you free things/games/etc? No they don't! If you think someone is safe enough to share something personal with online? No they're not! If someone randomly adds you for the purpose of making friends? They are not your friend! If someone says 'you're mature for your age'? No! You're! Not!
It's easy to form attachments to people online. It might be because everyone is 'anonymous' (which is also not true, no one is every truly anonymous online) that it's easier for you to imagine a stranger to be a certain way. Or you might look up to someone a lot because of the things they make or produce. These people, even if you get along with them or share interests with them, are not your friend- and will never be 100% trustworthy. (Of course, there are very rare acceptations- I don't want to be a hypocrite. Two of my very best friends are people I met online and have now met in person. When you become an adult and are able to more easily move around and escape situations -via transportation, access to your own money, not needing to rely on others/adults to assist you, then you can decide to proceed with relationships.)
Additionally, people online especially will never offer you something 'for free'. It will always have a cost- that might be your time, your personal information, or access to you via video or audio call or other personal things.
1- Never accept random phone, audio, or video calls on any social media platform. Do not accept random friend requests either. 2- It is absolutely okay to say 'no', to block people who you don't like or make you uncomfortable, even if those people get mad. Your safety comes before other people's happiness. 3- Never accept 'gifts' from online friends, especially if they are much older than you. 4- Do not click on random links sent by friends or shared on uncertified websites, especially download links. Even mod packs or pirated games can hide viruses, malware, or phishing links- things that can steal your personal information saved to your devices, or that can destroy your devices from the inside out. 5- If you feel uncomfortable or unsure of how to handle a situation, report and block the person involved, and/or contact a moderator, site-manager, or trusted IRL adult.
Online harassment and bullying is also quite scary. This can come in many forms: -People trying to steal information from you. -People shaming you for your appearance. -People shaming you for engaging in the things you enjoy. -People shaming, name calling, or ganging up on you to make fun of you. -Targeted crap-talking towards groups of people by other groups or individuals. -Being told to harm yourself, or that life would be better without you (not true!).
If this occurs to you, block and report the user/s. If you happen to know the person harassing and bullying yourself and others in real life, inform someone in real life as well. Make sure to take screen shots and save them! However, make sure you understand the difference between bullying and someone trying to correct bad behavior or help you. Both can feel very embarrassing at first, but most of the time, people trying to help improve online communities (and you!) will not be shameful, harassing, or bullying. It's okay to feel embarrassed for not understanding particular rules or community standards, but do not take that embarrassment out on others.
Managing Your Own Online Experience
This one might sting for some folks, especially adults who haven't learned it yet, but: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN ONLINE EXPERIENCE!
We're circling back to telling people online what your traumas and triggers are. Of course, a lot of things happen offline. It can be frustrating to come online as an escape and find something that triggers you or reawakens trauma, or even things that simply discomfort you. When it comes to things that traumatize or trigger you, block the source: Block people who cross your boundaries. Report those who break site guidelines (not people who do things you don't like- who break site guidelines). Block pages that might show things that frighten you. Do not visit websites that are known for certain traumatizing/inappropriate content. Turn on SafeSearch features. You don't even have to inform these people- do not engage, just disconnect. It's not cringe to want to optimize your online experience for your own safety, happiness and comfort!
When it comes to things that make you uncomfortable: Understand the difference between things that are traumatizing/triggering, and things that make your unhappy/uncomfortable/that you personally dislike. There is a difference. While you absolutely should have a safe and comfortable online experience, it is not appropriate or safe to approach people telling them to change X Y Z thing about what they post, discuss, or share. It's not appropriate to threaten, harass, or shame others for engaging in content that you might not like personally, or even engaging versions/aspects of that media in a way you might not yourself. The easiest way to avoid it? Don't engage with it. The instant you start to comment and complain, you're potentially outing yourself as a minor, AND telling the website algorithm that you want to see MORE of this thing you dislike, simply by engaging with it. It's a double whammy. Remember that, while your happiness and safety comes first, that does not come at the expense of other's wellbeing or enjoyment, unless that wellbeing or enjoyment is an active risk of physical or genuine harm to you that you cannot otherwise block yourself.
Finally, keep in mind that Adult Spaces/18+ spaces ARE NOT DESIGNED FOR YOU, WITH YOU IN MIND, OR FOR YOUR BENEFIT! It might feel and sound very exciting and even satisfying to get into an adult space unnoticed. However, these spaces are not meant for you- they often do NOT have all of the same safety tools as other 'public' online spaces. You are also putting yourself and the adults in the community at risk: Adults who may engage with you as an adult, because it's an adult-only space, without knowing you're a minor- as well as potentially engaging with adults who won't care whether or not you're a minor. Be especially mindful if an adult has a DNI specific to minors: that person DOES NOT want to engage with you. You wouldn't want your boundaries crossed, right? Don't cross theirs!
Some general rules to monitor your own online experience: 1- Block any potential sources of trauma/triggers. However, do not report them unless the subject matter genuinely breaks website rules (these differ DRASTICALLY depending on the site. Understand them before making any reports). 2- Live and Let Die (or Ship and Let Ship). Especially in fandom spaces. It's okay for you to have a particular take on a media, character, or ship. It is not okay for you to demean or diminish others for engaging in that media, character, or ship differently than you would. It isn't a competition about who's 'right'. Just enjoy yourself! 3- Turn on SafeSearch and Private Account settings. This minimizes potential triggers/uncomfortable subject matter, and allows you to monitor who engages with your account. 4- Do not actively pursue 18+ spaces. You don't have to stay 'in the kids zone', but don't try to insert yourself in a place where you cannot control what you might encounter.
----
I think that's about it! I'm sure there'll be other folks with plenty more to add, but these are the basics. Keep them in mind and try not to let yourself learn the hard way like I (and many others) did that The Internet as not as safe and fun as you might think it is. Of course, it is- but it's also full of unfun, or even dangerous things and people. Take care of yourself!
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4 Great Motives for Writing by George Orwell
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George Orwell:
From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and that sooner or later I should have to settle down and write books. Putting aside the need to earn a living, I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose. They exist in different degrees in every writer, and in any one writer the proportions will vary from time to time, according to the atmosphere in which he is living. They are:
(i) Sheer egoism. Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc. It is humbug to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one. Writers share this characteristic with scientists, artists, politicians, lawyers, soldiers, successful business men – in short, with the whole top crust of humanity. The great mass of human beings are not acutely selfish. After the age of about thirty they abandon individual ambition – in many cases, indeed, they almost abandon the sense of being individuals at all – and live chiefly for others, or are simply smothered under drudgery. But there is also the minority of gifted, willful people who are determined to live their own lives to the end, and writers belong in this class. Serious writers, I should say, are on the whole more vain and self-centered than journalists, though less interested in money.
(ii) Aesthetic enthusiasm. Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement. Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story. Desire to share an experience which one feels is valuable and ought not to be missed. The aesthetic motive is very feeble in a lot of writers, but even a pamphleteer or writer of textbooks will have pet words and phrases which appeal to him for non-utilitarian reasons; or he may feel strongly about typography, width of margins, etc. Above the level of a railway guide, no book is quite free from aesthetic considerations.
(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.
(iv) Political purpose – using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other people’s idea of the kind of society that they should strive after. Once again, no book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.
It can be seen how these various impulses must war against one another, and how they must fluctuate from person to person and from time to time. By nature – taking your ‘nature’ to be the state you have attained when you are first adult – I am a person in whom the first three motives would outweigh the fourth. In a peaceful age I might have written ornate or merely descriptive books, and might have remained almost unaware of my political loyalties.
Looking back through the last page or two, I see that I have made it appear as though my motives in writing were wholly public-spirited. I don’t want to leave that as the final impression. All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist or understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality. Good prose is like a windowpane. I cannot say with certainty which of my motives are the strongest, but I know which of them deserve to be followed. And looking back through my work, I see that it is invariably where I lacked a political purpose that I wrote lifeless books and was betrayed into purple passages, sentences without meaning, decorative adjectives and humbug generally.
Published in Gangrel, No. 4, Summer 1946
More: George Orwell
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formosusiniquis · 1 day
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It’s Wednesday have some worms I’m using as a warm-up.
So this is inspired by these style videos that I’ve seen a lot lately on youtube shorts cause i quit tiktok just to get stuck on the vape version. Where people go up to athletes and ask them to sign old pictures of themselves. And I’ve got two versions that have been playing in my head.
1. Chrissy and Eddie run a joint besties tiktok/social media thing where they show off their opposites attract platonic soulmate life by pushing each other out of their comfort zones, making them do things the other likes, and showing that it can be fun. Eddie takes Chrissy to a show and makes her get in the mosh pit, they jump out of a plane -- each claiming it was the other’s idea -- she makes Eddie try cheer; you get the picture.
So Chrissy drags Eddie to a sports game of your choosing, I’m going with baseball cause @thefreakandthehair ‘s latest fic with baseball steve is living in my head rent-free this week. Eddie decides that if he’s going and they’re going to do the sports equivalent of stage-dooring then he’s going to double up and get in on this trend he’s seen. The reactions are middling to bland, Tommy Hagan flips him off but does sign the photo of himself from what Eddie thinks is probably his junior prom and he and Chrissy are both pretty positive that'll be the best reaction they get for the video. But the next person they have planned to get is Steve and Eddie had to dig deep to find a picture of Steve that wasn’t a photo of him in a group shot at a party when he was in high school. It’s like the guy hit senior year and disappeared off the internet.
So Eddie walks up to the hottest guy he’s ever seen and asks for an autograph while handing Steve a photo of himself from grade school. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, one of his front teeth is missing and his hair is slipping forward onto his forehead from its picture-day perfect styling. Steve cuts off his by-rote agreement with a laugh and actually turns to look at Eddie (and Chrissy) now.
“Did everyone get one like this or am I special?”
Chrissy answers since Eddie lost the ability to speak the second Steve looked at him while smiling, “Yours is the littlest, but we did choose to ignore everyone’s professionally taken headshots.”
“You think this wasn’t done by a professional? Look at the lighting and the weird tree in the background.”
Chrissy laughs and does that thing where she kicks her leg out enough to knock Eddie back to planet earth. “You can make it out to Eddie, with an IE.” She tells Steve while Eddie massages his smarting ankle.
Steve takes the sharpie out of Eddie’s slack hand and looks down to sign. “I was always gonna sign, cause I like to think this little guy would be really excited about how far I got. But, this would be creepy if you weren’t so cute.”
Eddie is only able to answer because Steve still isn’t looking at him. “Her?”
Steve hands him the picture. “She didn’t ask for the autograph.”
They have to blur it for the video, but underneath his perfectly practiced signature, Steve sends Eddie home with his number.
Alternatively my take 2. The kids get full VIP experience tickets for Corroded Coffin and they have to go Steve. Claudia doesn’t want to cramp their style so she’s out, but if they can’t find a certified adult to take them then Ted has been volunteered. Ted, Steve. He agrees to go because even if he can’t stand the idea of spending the night fighting a migraine during the flashing lights of a heavy metal concert, he also isn’t going to let the Party suffer the social repercussions that would be Ted Wheeler going.
But he decides if he’s going to go he’s going to have fun with it. The kids let him know that it’s a small VIP (for plot reasons) and every group gets a set amount of time with the group. He’s listened to them talk about what they’re bringing to get signed, what they’re going to say to the band to sound both cool and mature. Meanwhile, he’s taking inspiration from his own feed to come up with a plan that’s going to hopefully only annoy everyone a ‘God Steve why do we take you anywhere, but yeah okay that was pretty funny’ amount and not actually ruin the kids' time.
He doesn’t actually know anyone in the band, but the internet exists and as he goes down his rabbit hole, trying to find pictures that are suitably dweeby but also cute in a wholesome way, he realizes that oops the lead guitarist is super hot and also vaguely familiar.
The night of the concert comes and Steve goes into the VIP line with five photos for the four members. Pictures from so far down the Instagram timeline that an accidental like would get him put on a watchlist. He’s got a sophomore Gareth trying his blue steel in a selfie, a photo of Jeff from the one year he did marching band to get out of his gym credit, Freak in the suit vest he got for Junior prom, and Eddie at his most dramatic ‘it’s not a phase Wayne’ stage in high school.
Eddie absolutely thinks they’re being made fun of for a minute, it’s Jeff who laughs and breaks the tension first. Which is good because Steve had waited to bring out the second picture he brought, turns out he finally figured out why the hot guitarist looked and sounded so familiar, and he shows Eddie a picture from the summer camp they went to together where they had been inseparable. That one Eddie signs gladly, his messy signature blocking out the camp counselor they had both hated. Steve won’t let the kids see, he tells them it’s weird to see your heavy metal heroes when they were eight and still waiting to get the gap between their front teeth fixed with braces. But he really just doesn’t want them to see the number Eddie wrote there and the vague promise to have Steve over to catch up and see if they can make kids as cute as they were.
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anonymousewrites · 2 days
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Pearl of the Sea Chapter Twenty-Two
Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader
Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader
Chapter Twenty-Two: Bargaining for Freedom
Summary: Multiple betrayals lead to (Y/N) meeting Beckett face-to-face for the first time.
            (Y/N), Jack, Barbossa, and the other crewmen that had gone to the island were shoved roughly onto the deck of the Pearl. Elizabeth and the other original crewmen of the Pearl were similarly restrained by the Singaporean pirates. Sao Feng stood in the middle of the throng.
            “Sao Feng,” said Barbossa. “You showing up here, it is truly a remarkable coincidence.”
            Sao Feng smiled insincerely at Barbossa before looking at Jack. “Jack Sparrow. You paid me great insult once.”
            “That doesn’t sound like me,” lied Jack.
            Sao Feng struck him across the face. (Y/N) instinctively tried to fight forward, but the pirates held them back.
            “Shall we call it square, then?” said Jack, holding his nose.
            “Release them!” Will pushed through the crowd and gestured to Elizabeth and (Y/N). “They’re not part of the bargain.”
            (Y/N) stared at Will. Had he seriously—
            “And what bargain be that?” questioned Barbossa.
            “You heard Captain Turner,” said Sao Feng. “Release those two.”
            “ ‘Captain Turner?’ ” said (Y/N) as they were released.
            “Aye! That perfidious rotter led a mutiny against us!” said Gibbs.
            (Y/N) looked at Will, frustrated and disappointed in his actions. Why? Sao Feng couldn’t be trusted, so why?
            “I need the Pearl to free my father,” said Will. “That’s the only reason I came on this voyage.”
            “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning this?” said Elizabeth, furious.
            “It was my burden to bear.” Will threw back the words she’d used when explaining her reasoning in not telling him of what she’d done to Jack.
            “He needs the Pearl,” said Jack. “Captain Turner needs the Pearl. And you felt guilty. You and your Brethren Court. Did no one come to save me just because they missed me?”
            (Y/N) raised their hand. “Yeah.”
            “And you’re my favorite here!” said Jack brightly.
            Marty, Ragetti, and Pintel hesitantly raised their hands. Cotton followed suit, and his parrot squawked. Jack the Monkey raised a paw.
            “I’m standing with them,” said Jack, and (Y/N) nodded firmly, moving to stand with the crewmen.
            Sao Feng grabbed Jack roughly. “I’m sorry, Jack, but there is an old friend who wants to see you and the child first.”
            “I’m not certain I can survive any more visits from old friends,” said Jack, using humor to bely how worried he was at someone wanting to see (Y/N), too.
            For their part, (Y/N) stiffened. There were few people they knew that Jack knew in some way that weren’t present. It left a limited and dangerous list.
            Sao Feng pushed Jack towards the side of the ship, and another pirate pushed (Y/N) towards it.
            “Here is your chance to find out,” said Sao Feng.
            (Y/N)’s stomach dropped. A British ship was circling around the island and approaching. Beckett. They knew it in their gut.
            “Wait, that wasn’t part of the deal,” said Will. “(Y/N) stays with me.”
            Tia Dalma’s gaze flicked to Beckett’s ship. (Y/N) would be in serious danger there. It couldn’t be allowed. But what were they to do, surrounded by enemies?
            “We made no deal for after your taking the Pearl,” said Sao Feng. “And I have another deal to uphold.”
            (Y/N) frowned. “Fine.”
            All heads went to them, and the adults who knew what they were and what Beckett would want with them straightened in worry.
            “No,” said several voices.
            “It means Beckett is more likely to leave you all. He wants Jack and I,” said (Y/N), moving to the ladder to climb down into the rowboat. “Fine.” They’d figure a way out. They had to.
            Tia Dalma’s brow creased with worry as she watched them. Her dark eyes landed on Jack and hardened in warning. If he were to abandon (Y/N) to Beckett, he’d face her wrath, the wrath of the sea itself.
            Jack nodded curtly. He didn’t plan to hurt (Y/N). They had honestly come to help him on top of wanting to help pirates and the sea. They were a good kid—sort of his kid—and he wouldn’t hand them over to Beckett.
l
            (Y/N) and Jack stumbled as the soldiers shoved them into Beckett’s office. Jack and (Y/N) exchanged a look, knowing they’d have to tread carefully to keep Beckett from immediately firing on the Pearl. Whatever deal Sao Feng had made with him, Beckett would betray it to rid the world of pirates, but if they gave the Pearl time, their companions and friends would find a way to escape.
            “Curious,” said Beckett as he gazed out the window. “Your friends appear quite desperate. Perhaps they no longer believe that a gathering of squabbling pirates can defeat the Flying Dutchman. And so despair leads to betrayal. But you and I are no strangers to betrayal, are we, Jack?” Beckett finally turned around.
            “We’re both fans of it,” said Jack, playful tone hiding his clear search for the heart. He flipped open several boxes, and (Y/N) watched him.
            “It’s not here,” said Beckett, rolling his eyes.
            “What? What isn’t?” said Jack, pretending he had no idea what he meant.
            “The heart of Davy Jones. It’s safely aboard the Dutchman, and so unavailable for use as leverage to satisfy your debt to the good captain,” said Beckett.
            “By my reckoning, that account has been settled,” said Jack.
            “By your death?” said Beckett. “And yet here you are.”
            “Nothing says anything against dying and coming back to life,” said (Y/N).
            Jack snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “Excellent loophole, laddie.”
            “And yet if Davy Jones were to learn of your survival, Jack…I doubt he’d see it that way,” said Beckett. He smirked. “So how about an…alternate agreement? One that requires nothing of you but information and a…yes.”
            Jack already knew what he would and wouldn’t trade for his freedom, but he needed Beckett to keep talking while he planned a way out of the situation, so he’d go along with it for now. “Regarding the Brethren Court, no doubt.”
            “Jack,” hissed (Y/N), not wanting him to say anything that could put their plan at risk.
            “And would guarantee my freedom?” said Jack.
            “Of course,” said Beckett. “It’s just good business.”
            “Were I in a divulgatory mood, what then might I divulge?” said Jack.
            “Everything,” said Beckett.
            “Jack, don’t—”
            “Be quiet, your turn will come soon,” said Beckett sharply. He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you want to forfeit any deal I may consider with you.”
            That meant their friends getting hurt. (Y/N) fell silent.
            “Good choice,” said Beckett. He turned back to Jack. “I wish to know where the Brethren Court are meeting, who are the pirate lords, and what are the purposes of the nine pieces of eight?”
            Well, Jack could handle giving out that information. If he could turn Beckett loose and have a chance to get near the Dutchman to retrieve the heart, then he’d be safe, and then he could stop Beckett with the power of the seas. That didn’t seem like a bad trade.
            “And one more thing,” said Beckett. He looked towards (Y/N). “I want confirmation on information I’ve received regarding them.”
            “Me?”
            “Them?”
            (Y/N) and Jack paused, (Y/N) with confusion and Jack with worry.
            Beckett walked towards (Y/N). The only reason they didn’t step back was that (Y/N) refused to cower to a man like Beckett.
            “I’ve heard some interesting things about you,” said Beckett. “Admiral Norrington spoke of strange, almost magical, occurrences around you.”
            Jack remembered Tia Dalma’s warning, and he stiffened. (Y/N)’s brow furrowed for a moment.
            “So, I thought, how fascinating?” He smiled, but it was cold and unfeeling. “I decided to look into the so-called magic of the seas. After all, what is the word of a single admiral? Why would a silly, pathetic little child have any sort of power in the seas?” He turned and poured himself a drink. “How fortunate I am to have Davy Jones so willing to divulge his own information.” Beckett sipped his drink before setting it back down. “And I learn that the Admiral is correct.” He faced (Y/N). “You are a nereid, a child born from the sea and the magic in it.”
            “Magic is in these veins—magic of the sea.”
            Now (Y/N) understood what Tia Dalma had said to them. It all fit into place, even if it seemed too magical and strange to believe.
            Beckett looked at Jack. “I want confirmation that this information is correct. You have undoubtedly seen more than the Admiral’s rumors and know more than Davy Jones’s suppositions.”
            “What they are has nothing to do with our discussion,” said Jack.
            (Y/N) glanced at him. He wasn’t just giving them up? They knew they were…friends, and (Y/N) saw him as family, but they hadn’t known if he really cared, too.
            “They have everything to do with it,” said Beckett. “I will let you go back to the Pearl, take all your little pirates to the Brethren Court’s meeting place, and, in return, you will lead me to them and leave the nereid with me.” He smiled. “Then, I’ll let you go free and not hand you to Jones.”
            “But you keep all the power of the seas,” said Jack, eyes narrowing.
            “I have Davy Jones. I’m sure I can find a way to control a simple nereid,” said Beckett.
            “I will never bow to you,” spat (Y/N).
            “And yet you’re not getting off this ship,” said Beckett. “If Jack says no, you will stay here and learn to obey or be killed. If Jack says yes, you still stay here. It is simply a matter of whether he wants his own freedom or not.”
            It was a matter of principle. (Y/N) would be stuck no matter what, but it was whether or not Jack was willing to sell them out for his own freedom that mattered. It was a ploy Beckett had devised to ensure (Y/N) would feel abandoned and furious at pirates—enough to listen to his instruction—since he assumed Jack would abandon them. He would double-cross anyone to save his own skin. That was who he was, a pirate.
            But Beckett didn’t know Jack, not really. And he most certainly didn’t know that (Y/N) was the one person Jack truly valued to such a high degree that he wouldn’t give them up.
            “You know what?” said Jack, leaning forward. “You really had a good deal there. And I love my freedom.” He leaned back and looked at (Y/N). “But they’re not for sale.” His gaze was somber. “I don’t think people are cargo.” His hand touched the branded ‘P’ on his arm. “You know that, Beckett.”
            (Y/N) could have smiled in that moment. Jack wasn’t going to hand them over to Beckett. He was on their side. He was protecting them.
            “What a pity,” said Beckett. “The one time the perfect trade is at your feet, you forfeit it.”
            “I’m open to trades, but not of (Y/N),” said Jack.
            Boom!
            The Endeavor shook, and Beckett fell back into his chair.
            “Well, what fun we had making a deal!” Jack grabbed (Y/N)’s arm and pulled them towards the doors as they swung open.
            The ship listed, and (Y/N) and Jack had to adjust to the movement as they ran. Fortunately, no one was interested in fighting them because they were focused on shooting at the Black Pearl, which was currently firing cannon after cannon at the Endeavor. Jack put a tiny Beckett figurine from his set into a cannon, and (Y/N) slung a rope around it and a sail railing above. They were making their escape.
            Beckett raced up the stairs behind them and stared. “You’re mad.”
            “Thank goodness,” said Jack. “If I wasn’t, this’d probably never work.”
            Beckett’s gaze fell on (Y/N). “I will have control of the seas. Any part of it that doesn’t listen—pirate or nereid—will face the consequences of rebellion.”
    ��       “I don’t well with control, sorry,” said (Y/N), smiling with a vicious sharpness. “And you’ll face the consequences of attempting to tame me and the sea.”
            Jack grinned and lit the cannon. It fired and rocketed over the railing. Beckett dove to the side to avoid being hit. Jack wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, and they grabbed onto him. The weight of the cannon sent them rocketing upward and swinging over to the Pearl. The crew of the Pearl ran up to see them, looking over the side of the Black Pearl as the rope disappeared over it.
            “And that was without a single drop of rum!” said Jack proudly.
            The crew jumped and faced him and (Y/N) who stood on the back of the ship. (Y/N) grinned, jumped down, and bowed dramatically. Jack swaggered towards Will. Ragetti and Pintel grabbed him while the others looked on.
            “Send this pestilent, traitorous, cowhearted, yeasty codpiece to the brig,” said Jack to Will.
            Will looked at (Y/N). They crossed their arms. He had betrayed them and almost gotten them stuck with Beckett. He deserved some sort of repercussions before they had to fight Beckett. Hopefully he’d realize that was more important than his father at the moment. (There was a time and place for every issue).
l
            Jack watched Will row away in the dead of night. Beckett was following them to Shipwreck Cove. The Flying Dutchman would come with him. If he had done his job, Jack had convinced Will to let him kill Jones instead of Will “locking his heart away and losing Elizabeth.” Jack would get what he wanted—immortality—and defeat Jones. He could free Will’s father for him. Then, he could turn around the defeat Beckett, even if some of the other pirates were destroyed. With Beckett gone, pirates, the seas, and (Y/N) would be free. Jack was playing three sides at once, making deals and double-crossing like never before, but he would be free in the end. (Y/N) would be free with him.
            It had to work. Otherwise, freedom itself would die with him, (Y/N), and all the rest of the pirates of the world.
Taglist:
@slytherinroyalty16
@aew-kun-age-regression
@grippleback-galaxy
@andsoigotabutterfly
@insomniacneedssleep
@painstakingly-juno
@kitkatlover015
@chronicallybubbly
@froggyisfriend
@elliottheidiot2007
@paastaboi
@urlocalsabito
@speckle-meow-meow
@dmitrytherat
@vanessa-boo
@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe
@snowy-violet
@ceridwyn3
@heil-nah
@idonthaveanameforthisacc
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chiyoso · 10 months
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can someone
make me cry again with fics
the last time i cried really hard to a fic was @ teapartyspilled's two-part lyney angst, idk where she is but i miss her so much
recommend me some, i wanna cry and i want my heart to be moved
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sysig · 9 months
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Those wacky skeletons ♥ (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Sans#Papyrus#Handplates#You can tell because of Sans' gloves lol#Getting-used-to-them-again doodles as well as just expressing Feeling <3 Happy towards them! Want them to be happy too!#It might seem silly for these - how many sets in now? - to still be getting used to drawing them again lol but it's because they're adults!#Their clothes and the way they hold themselves - but also especially Sans lol I dunno why I have such difficulty with him at times#He's got a cute face and I still find myself like ????how your face#Other than that tho it's just silliness hehe ♪ My favourite lads :D#I feel the need to make the distinction: I do actually have different favourites based on the AU lol#Like for example in classic I still love Flowey just a tiiiiiny bit more than Papyrus but it really is constantly neck and neck#Whereas in Handplates it's no competition even a little bit lol - Papyrus is just my Very Favourite#But Gaster is my favourite Handplates-specific character since he's unique to the AU! It gets a bit in the weeds lol#Sans isn't far behind at all of course the trio are very important! The duo even moreso imo#Going back to gloves tho I did carry over one of my quirks from my original UT doodles about Papyrus' gloves lol#I initially envisioned them as combination mitten-gloves with a free index finger and all the rest together#I still rather like the design! But it is admittedly not Handplates accurate lol#The occasional dip into self-indulgence who me? Lol#Sleeping on each other is important to me as well!! It is such a favourite hehe#Honestly I just imagined Papyrus getting so exhausted that he fell asleep in the snow lol poor lad#Sans teleported in but it's also funny to imagine him just walking up like ''you good? yeah he's fine'' *flop* haha#Silly lads <3 Do love 'em ♪
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spacedlexi · 1 year
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sooo glad we live in the universe where twdgs4 was rewritten to be about saving the school instead of the original lis2-esque on the road each-episode-is-a-new-location plot. really dodged a bullet there
dont know if it was due to the cuts and collapsing work environment (no budget for all the assets needed) or what but the school plot is just like the perfect setting for her to end her story. and we really almost got a plot about her.... just trying to make it back to her original house? oof
#my biggest problem with lis2 is that being on the road made a lot of your choices essentially meaningless#like wheres the threat of consequence when you know youll be gone by the next episode anyway?#the kids were originally gonna kick them out permanently.......Nightmare Scenario#the plot of her trying to get back 'home' is so silly honestly like its Just nostalgia/fan bait. convince me otherwise you cant#it makes no sense....she lived right outside a major city... that place is Not safe anymore#it wasnt even safe when she left it 8 years ago girl why would you go back#her finding a place to MAKE a new home and having to fight for it? with a community of her peers who love and respect her? so much better#shes a community leader now :) of a bunch of kids living secretly in the woods just trying to make a safe home for themselves#in a hostile world that wants them dead#love that for her#shes been managing adults since she was 11 and even before that tried to be a voice of reason. at 8 years old. community leader makes sense#s4 is just so narratively sound to me for clems character that i cant believe there was ever any other direction they wanted to go in#every time im thinking about how good s4 is i remember what it almost was......... and i am so grateful we got what we did#not only do we live in the universe where s4 is about the school but we Also live in the universe where s4 was un-cancelled :) yay#shit makes me so happy man. i remember clem is living happily at ericsons and my day is Immediately improved#these little fictional bitches in my head giving me free serotonin on command#it speaks#twdg
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emberwhite · 8 months
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Not everyone likes my book, and I'm OK with that. There are many classic children's books some people just don't like because of their message or how they portray it, but I love them because they offer something a little different.
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I made something straight from the heart and took a big chance on it. It caters to no one and breaks many conventions you find in children's books. I wanted adults to be able to enjoy the story as well, so it's not afraid to get a little sad. There were a few children's book bloggers I had emailed who wouldn't review it because of that reason. And there were Read Aloud YouTube channels who wouldn't make a video on it because they didn't like the ending.
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But there were also many people who absolutely loved the book. They got what I was trying to do, so I know there is an audience for this sort of thing. The more secluded you feel you are from society the better the chance you'll like it. This isn't the case for everyone but just a trend I noticed. Reviews on Amazon have been overwhelming positive, and hey, my mom liked it too. And the book has sold almost a 100 copies in its first month.
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But then again, I also get these drive-by reviews from window shoppers. This is just the reality of trying to do something a bit different with a kid's book. People absolutely judge a book by it's cover.
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I know how to write things that are guaranteed to sell and make money, but this ain't one of them. Doing what is guaranteed to work gets boring after a couple of years. It's too safe. It's fulfilling work to make a product that people need but also empty at the same time.
This was a complete gamble. I have been publishing on Amazon for the last 8 years now, and I haven't felt this excited since I released my first book. And thinking back on it, that first book was also a bold gamble as well. And it sold very well. Maybe then, that's just the secret to success.
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Anyways, the book is on Amazon. You can also find the full story and illustrations on YouTube for free as well. If you would like to support the book, a quick rating on Amazon or Goodreads is one of the best ways to do so.
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months
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The Big Part
Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut
(part 2)
You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.
warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words
Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan
minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut
It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?
For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.
You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.
“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.
“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.
Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.
“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.
His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.
“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.
Alastor nodded.
You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”
His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?
“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”
You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”
“Take it where?”
You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.
Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.
“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.
“Oh. I wasn’t-,”
“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.
It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.
“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”
“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?
“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”
“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.
You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”
He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.
After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?
Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.
“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.
“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.
“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”
Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.
“Show me.”
All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.
Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.
A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.
Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.
“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”
You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.
He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”
You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.
But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.
Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.
“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.
“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”
“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.
He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.
It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.
“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”
You nodded.
“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.
Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.
Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.
“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.
“Full, so full.”
His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”
You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.
His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.
Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.
“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.
You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.
“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.
“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.
You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”
Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.
The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.
“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”
You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”
“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.
More. You could take more, he was positive of it.
Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.
Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.
Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.
“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”
He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”
Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.
No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.
His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.
Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.
“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.
“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.
That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?
You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.
Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”
“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”
You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.
His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”
I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖
༻Masterlist༺
Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.
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aphrvdisiac · 1 month
Text
OFF TO THE RACES.
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ellie williams, abby anderson x fem! reader.
SUMMARY | you are in a poly relationship with new york’s elite women, ellie williams and abby anderson, but living in the world of power, money, and lust possesses each one of you as the dynamic amongst you three becomes more volatile and violent.
WARNINGS | adult language. graphic violence. polyamorous relationship. abby calls reader “bunny,” ellie calls reader, “little lamb.” mentions of alcohol consumption and drug usage. possessive and obsessive behaviors. dark content: graphic details of t*rture and m*rder, men being pigs, controlling behavior. adult content: sub!reader x doms!ellabs, doing it in a confessional booth, god kink, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, edging, ball gag, strap-ons, face smacking, mommy and daddy kink, knife play w/ branding, double penetration.
NOTES | so brief explanation: this is my fic, off to the races. it used to be on my original, old account that fell under the user “angvlita” but unfortunately i deactivated that account so the fic no longer exists. anyways, all rights are reserved to me for this, and i do not want it published anywhere else. with that being said, please take into caution all the tags and warnings because this isn’t meant to be taken lightly whatsoever. ellie and abby are mean and cruel in here. thank you, and enjoy.
If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.
You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.
You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.
Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.
Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.
You remembered it clear as day.
You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.
The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.
They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.
“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.
You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.
“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”
“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.
“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.
You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.
“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.
“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”
“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”
“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”
They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.
It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.
Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.
You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.
The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.
Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.
God, the fucking sex.
It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.
You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.
During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.
You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.
When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.
“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”
“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”
“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”
Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”
“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”
“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”
You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.
Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”
Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”
“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”
“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”
Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.
You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.
You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.
The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”
“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”
“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”
“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.
“Three!”
Another one.
“Four!”
And the last one.
“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”
“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”
She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.
“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”
“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”
“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”
“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”
You grinned. “You mean that?”
“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.
“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.
Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.
“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”
“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”
Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.
There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.
Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.
They came into your life when you needed them the most.
“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”
“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”
You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.
“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”
Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”
You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”
Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.
“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”
“What?” You asked. “Why?”
“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”
Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.
“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.
“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”
Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.
Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.
Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”
“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”
Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”
You only stood still, gazing up at her.
Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”
“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”
You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”
“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”
“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.
“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”
“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”
“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”
Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.
You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.
The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.
Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.
“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”
“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”
Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”
“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”
Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”
“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”
“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.
She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.
“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”
“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.
“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”
A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”
Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”
“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”
“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”
“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.
Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.
“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.
“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”
Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.
Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.
The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.
But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.
You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.
You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.
Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.
You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”
“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”
Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.
“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”
“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”
“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”
“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”
True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”
You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.
It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.
“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”
“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”
“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”
“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”
“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”
“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”
“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”
“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”
They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.
“What can I get you, love?” She asked.
“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.
A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”
You shivered to the voice of a man.
“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.
“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”
“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.
Oh, you felt sick.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.
Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.
“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”
“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”
“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.
You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.
You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.
You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”
The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”
She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.
You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.
It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”
“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”
“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”
“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”
“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.
As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”
“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”
Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”
“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.
“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”
“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”
“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.
You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.
“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”
She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”
You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”
“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”
“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”
“Just three lines,” you repeated.
Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.
The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“
“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.
“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.
“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”
“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.
“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.
There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.
You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.
“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.
“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”
With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.
Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”
Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.
She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”
“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”
“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.
“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”
Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”
Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.
Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”
“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”
Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.
Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”
“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.
E: How is she?
J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.
E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.
J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.
E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.
She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.
Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.
They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.
Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”
“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.
“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”
Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”
“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.
Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.
He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”
His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.
He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.
He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.
“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”
Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.
“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”
“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.
“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”
“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”
“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”
“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”
“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”
“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”
“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”
Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.
The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.
“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”
Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.
People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.
Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.
They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.
The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”
“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”
Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”
Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”
The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.
“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”
“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.
“Els!” You said.
“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”
“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”
“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”
“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”
“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”
“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”
“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”
“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”
“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.
You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”
“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”
You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”
Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.
You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.
Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.
You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.
“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”
“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.
“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”
You panicked. “Whatever I did—”
“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”
“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”
“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”
You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”
“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.
“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”
“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.
It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.
The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.
You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.
You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.
Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.
You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”
“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.
“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”
“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”
“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”
They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.
“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”
“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”
“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”
You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.
“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”
Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”
“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”
“It is,” you whimpered.
“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”
“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.
“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”
You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.
“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”
Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”
“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”
You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.
Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.
In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”
“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”
You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”
You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”
Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.
“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.
She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”
“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”
“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”
“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”
You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.
You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.
“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”
“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”
“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.
Everyone knew it.
“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”
Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.
“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”
Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”
Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.
“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”
“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”
You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.
Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.
“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”
“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”
Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”
Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”
“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.
Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”
“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.
“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”
Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”
“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”
“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”
“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”
“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”
You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”
“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.
“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”
“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”
“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”
You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.
Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.
“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”
“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”
“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”
Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”
Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”
The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.
You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.
They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.
They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.
Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.
“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”
“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”
“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”
Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”
You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.
“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.
You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.
“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”
“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”
Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.
“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.
A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.
“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.
Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.
“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”
“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.
The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.
They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.
“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”
“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.
“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”
Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”
Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”
Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.
You wanted to cry.
They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.
You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.
Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.
You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.
Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.
Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.
Why the fuck was Joel calling?
You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?
You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.
“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.
Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.
Xo, Ellie.
“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”
There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”
“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.
“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”
Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.
The shirt. The red on the shirt.
Blood.
“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.
“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”
You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.
They needed you blind and gullible.
“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”
“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”
You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.
“Do you know something?” He asked.
“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”
“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.
You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.
You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.
Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.
You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.
It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”
“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”
Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.
You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.
“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”
“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”
“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”
“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”
“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.
You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.
You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.
Abby’s jacket.
You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.
You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.
“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.
For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.
That wasn’t possible.
You hoped.
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foldingfittedsheets · 27 days
Text
Back in my early twenties I ended up having a three day sleepover hang with some friends. There were about seven of us in this extended hang. Four of us lived together and after having a great day we invited our friends to stay the night too. And again. The good times just stayed rolling.
It was all PJs and laughs, unbroken fun times. We played games and ate pancakes and fast food. Occasionally someone would leave to work a shift at their job before rejoining the party. At one point about half the group decided to get high. This was years before I decided to actually try pot.
I returned home from a shift at Red Robin and the high group had somehow gotten onto the idea about how soft eyelids were and how much they wanted to lick an eyelid and feel the softness. Predictably no one was on board to have their eyelids licked and eventually the topic shifted away.
But that was not the end of it.
You see, groups of young adults are often stupid and occasionally full of demons. Which brings me to the dawn of the third day. I was curled up in bed, sleeping soundly after a fun day with friends.
Three people decided that the eyelid licks they couldn’t get by asking they would take by force.
They crept into my room early in the morning. Like wretched little imps they set out with evil intentions. They skulked and snickered and snuck until they all stood poised above me in bed. One of them had out his phone to record the event. Another leaned down, tongue out, to taste the forbidden flesh.
Deep in the depths of sleep I felt something soft like a caress, a brief confusion of love and tenderness before my sleep addled brain registered the revolting wetness. I lashed out with all the force in me and whapped the offender so hard upside the head that he staggered back from the scene of his crime.
I leapt up and assaulted the rest of the raiding party with blows and curses. My mood stayed foul the rest of the day and the one who’d licked me complained about how hard I’d hit him. I offered to hit him again for free. They also couldn’t stop laughing and oohing over the video that had been taken.
When I finally watched it I could understand why. It’s not clear from the angle what the offender had been doing to me but one moment he was leaning down and the next my arm blurred through the air as fast as a striking snake. The motion was too fast for the camera to even comprehend, one moment I lay prone and the next I was up and furious, arm cocked back from the strike.
They commended my speed and ferocity and I grudgingly accepted an apology but thus ended the sleepover as I didn’t trust those fuckers in my house anymore.
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
Note
hello ! wanted to say i really love your writing style and your stories for the characters ! I wanted to know if you’d write one for Love and deep space Sylus? A scenario where you’re both sleeping but you sneak away quietly to get something from the kitchen or for whatever reason but he stops you with his powers (the handcuffs etc) to bring you back to bed. I’m not sure if i’m making sense but something along those lines! please and thank you!
Sylus: Kitchen Sneaker
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Warning: No warning. Fem!reader, domestic fluff (?)
Author's note: This is a fun domestic-ish prompt to write! I hope you like it my dear pookies <3
masterlist | Buy me a thread? |
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Sylus was fast asleep beside you.
The man was a light sleeper for the sake of his own safety. According to him, even if the building was as secure as it could be, there were some instances where he woke up with a knife to his throat. However, ever since you began sharing the same bed, he had been sleeping like a log, which was good for him and the twins because they no longer had to deal with his hot head so early in the evening.
But it was bad for you. Simply because Sylus likes to hold you in his sleep. Sometimes his hand would be over your chest, groping your breast or squeezing in between your boobs, but most times, he would be holding your wrist, checking your pulse. How was this bad for you? Well, living alone for most of your adult life, you liked to indulge yourself in a midnight snack or two. With him holding you captive to the bed, his iron grip holding on to you, it was like you had a ball and chain around your body.
You've indulged Sylus for over a week now, but the intense midnight craving is overwhelming.
Tonight, it's food over Sylus. The man can wait. Food cannot.
You scooted his hand very, very, very gently away from your body. This man's hand is heavy and large. Sylus didn't move and continued to sleep peacefully, his exposed chest rising and falling calmly. The room was very cold, and you could even hear the blowing of the AC; it was at that moment that you realized how such small sounds seemed to be so loud at night.
With every step you take, you are holding your breath even more. Even against the carpet, the rustling of your feet seemed like it could stir Sylus awake at any second. Thankfully, you managed to traverse across the room like a spy. You even had to carefully close the door shut.
You used the stairs to get down to the kitchen, and while you were walking in the hallway, the chef was just about to leave, his satchel bag on his shoulder.
He and you made eye contact. You gestured to him to 'shush,' and he laughed.
"There's some leftover dessert and pasta in the fridge—feel free to eat it," he whispered, and you grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Greg is the best chef ever. You tiptoed to the kitchen, waving him goodbye. Your eyes landed on that double-door fridge that was whirring loudly.
Finally! You could taste that delicious panna cotta and aglio olio in your mouth. Your hands wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and as you tugged, the bright blue light of the fridge lit up your face.
You took the plate and settled it on the stainless steel counter. The next one was the small glass filled with chocolate and cream. You marveled at its delicate, savory look. You took a spoon from the nearby utensil holder and dug it into the soft texture, eager to get a taste.
Before it could land between your lips—
A cold whirlwind of black, scentless smoke wrapped around the fork. It flung out of your grasp, and before you could let out a peep, you, too, were flung away from the kitchen counter.
The man let out a grunt, his eyes low-lidded and foggy, clearly just woken up from his slumber.
"Pray tell," he gruffed, his voice an octave lower. "What are you doing in the kitchen? You're supposed to be in bed." Sylus let out a sigh while he brought you closer to him. He glanced behind you and saw the unopened plate of pasta and panna cotta.
"Never mind. You don't need to speak."
"I'm hungry! Don't you know you shouldn't get between a woman and her food?" you exclaimed while tugging at the thing around your exposed waist. You thrashed and thrashed, the straps of your nightshirt sliding down your shoulders. "Put me down and go back to bed! I'll be with you in five—no, fifteen minutes!"
His head was aching from all the noise you were making, and combined with the fact that you were out of bed by the time he woke up—to Sylus, it seemed like you were testing his patience. "Did you not eat enough during dinner time? You know you could've asked for second servings."
"I get midnight cravings on occasion, but when I'm sleeping over, you tend to weigh me down in bed," you explained, flailing your legs, which were a few feet off the ground.
"So, you're blaming me now?" Sylus raised an eyebrow.
You shrugged. Of course, you were. It wasn't your fault you couldn't get out of bed, and it wasn't your fault that the chef made great food and desserts. He didn't like the look on your face but, regardless, put you down to the floor, his hand tugging your strap over your shoulders. His red eyes glazed over your bare chest, but he turned away, walking to that lonely plate of pasta.
"We're going back to sleep after you have your fill." Sylus unwrapped the plate and took a fork, twirling it and taking a bite. The oily, mild tinge of spiciness and Parmesan helped push him awake. He won't deny that the chef was good at his job—it was even enough for you to sneak out of his bed.
You mounted yourself onto the kitchen island, the cold marble surface cooling the bottom of your thigh. You took the panna cotta, and finally, the creamy and sweet flavor of chocolate and cream exploded in your mouth. Unconsciously, you nodded in approval of the taste.
Quietly, you ate in each other's company, occasionally making small talk. Sylus left the dish in the sink along with the fork, but when he turned to you, your nose was inside the refrigerator again. "Cake roll slice…" you uttered. The strawberry cake roll looked delicious inside the glass container.
Before you could even reach out to it, the smoke appeared at the very same spot, dragging you away from the fridge. Sylus closed the double-door refrigerator and crossed his arms right in front of you. A clear 'no' was plastered all over his face.
You let out a groan as he dragged you away with the smoky black and red rope around your waist.
When you got back to the bedroom, you expected Sylus to go right back to sleep. But instead, the man pulled a handcuff from underneath his pillow. How and why it was, there was a question you didn't want to ask him. Without another word coming out of his mouth, he chained it to himself and took hold of your wrist.
"No. You're not going to—"
He latched the real handcuff around your wrists and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him.
"Sleep."
The lights dimmed and flickered off at his word, and you just lay there, staring up at the canopy.
"I guess this is our bedtime routine now," you sighed.
"Sleep," he reiterated.
You seriously have no idea how you put up with this man.
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Author footnotes: I also like to sneak out to the kitchen and eat but instead of sylus, It's my mom who sees me and then i get the clothes hanger beat up for staying up late at night lol.
Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |
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dreaming-medium · 11 months
Text
Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Breeding - Bang Chan
Word Count: 8.4k
Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?
—————————————————————————
“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.
A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.
“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.
He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.
“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”
You sigh.
“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”
“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”
Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”
“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”
“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”
“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”
Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.
The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.
It was always one of Chan’s favorites.
“How long until the trip?” he asks.
“Next weekend.”
“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”
You force a laugh, “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”
“Your family is great and you know it.”
“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” Your arm slides off your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”
Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”
You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”
“Which one?”
“Lily.”
“She’s twelve.”
“Twelve and in love with you.”
Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.
Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.
“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.
“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.
“You can come with me!”
“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”
“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”
Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.
Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.
“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”
“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.
You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”
He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.
He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.
“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”
Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”
“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”
——————————————
The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.
“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.
“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”
Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.
“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”
Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.
“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”
You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”
Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.
As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.
“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.
“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.
“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”
“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”
“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”
“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”
At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.
“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”
His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.
“About three week-”
He moves about wildly.
“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”
Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.
“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”
A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.
“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”
“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”
“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”
Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.
“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.
“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”
You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.
The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.
“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”
“It seems so.”
Another bout of silence.
Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.
“I’ll uh… find the address.”
“Yeah.”
You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.
——————————————
Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.
“Our first date?” he asks.
“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”
“Second date?”
“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”
“When did we become official?”
“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”
“And?”
“You kissed me at my door.”
“Good.”
You both pause for a moment.
“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.
Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”
You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”
“No way, I kissed you.”
Chan puts the car into park.
“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.
“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”
You unbuckle your seatbelt.
“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”
Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.
He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.
“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.
The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.
“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.
Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.
They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.
“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.
Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.
“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.
He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.
“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.
Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.
A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.
Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”
Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.
The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.
Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.
“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”
He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.
The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.
“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.
“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”
You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.
The singular bed in the room.
Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.
He closes the door behind you both.
“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.
He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.
What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.
It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.
The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.
“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.
“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.
“I’m not cold all the time.”
“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”
“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”
There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”
——————————————
Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.
Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.
Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.
There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.
This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.
Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.
Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.
“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”
“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.
“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”
Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”
“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”
“Sounds exciting.”
Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.
Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.
“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”
“I think I can get used to that.”
“You better.”
A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”
——————————————
“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.
“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.
The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.
“No, me!”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.
“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.
“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.
Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.
Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.
“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.
The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.
Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.
The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.
He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.
It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.
“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.
“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.
“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.
Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.
“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.
Your little cousin groans.
“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.
After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.
Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.
The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.
Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.
You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.
Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.
“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”
A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”
Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.
The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.
Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.
Well, if he’s playing the part.
You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.
Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.
Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.
The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.
Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.
Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.
Chan melted into your touch so easily.
In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.
He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.
Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.
One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.
Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.
Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.
Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”
Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”
“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”
Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.
Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.
It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.
Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.
“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.
“I know.”
——————————————
Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.
A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.
A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.
The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.
The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.
A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.
Chan, it’s Chan behind you.
You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.
But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.
It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.
They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.
Your bedroom door is practically flung open.
Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.
He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.
Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.
You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.
“Noooo…” you moan out.
Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”
She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”
Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.
This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.
Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.
“Chaaan!” she giggles.
After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.
“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.
He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.
Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.
Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.
What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?
What if it was his?
His eyes flicker all over your face.
Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.
——————————————
“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.
He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.
You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.
When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.
Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.
Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.
She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”
Your family can be so crass sometimes.
Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”
“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”
“She never stops.”
Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”
Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.
Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.
“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”
“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.
“And?”
“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.
You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.
He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.
“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.
Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.
In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.
——————————————
The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.
It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.
Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.
“I’m never going to get to bed.”
“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.
“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”
“You don’t even like coffee.”
“I know!” He whined.
You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”
“When did I say that?”
“Literally this morning!”
“Fine, fine.”
He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.
The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.
Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.
Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.
“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.
“Pity,” you tease him.
“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.
Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.
You hit the ball and sink one in.
With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.
The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.
You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.
Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.
“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.
He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.
The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.
“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.
His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.
Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.
Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–
“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.
He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.
“Shoot,” he exhales.
With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.
You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.
“Take that!”
When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.
And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.
“Y/N,” he breathes out.
You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.
Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.
Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.
You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?
He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.
Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.
Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.
His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.
“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”
Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.
Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.
You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.
“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.
“But I–”
“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.
Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.
Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.
As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.
Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”
God.
His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.
“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”
Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.
“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.
“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.
Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.
Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.
Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.
His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.
Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.
Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.
Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.
Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.
He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.
Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.
You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.
His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.
After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.
He can’t help but smirk into your folds.
Every single moan is music to his ears.
Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.
“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.
It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.
But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.
“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”
He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.
You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.
Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.
A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.
“Chan,” you whine.
“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.
“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.
“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.
How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.
“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.
A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.
“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”
Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.
“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”
In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.
Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.
Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.
Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.
“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”
Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.
When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.
He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.
With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.
“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”
An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.
Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.
“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”
Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.
He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.
You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.
Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.
“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.
Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.
“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”
Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.
Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.
“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”
His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.
Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?
“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.
Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”
Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.
Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.
Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.
“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”
He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.
Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.
Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.
Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.
“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”
Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.
“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”
Over and over again he fucks into you.
After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.
“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”
You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.
Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.
Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.
“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
Another whine is stopped by his hand.
“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”
Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.
“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”
Arching your back, you press into him more.
“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”
You nod pathetically.
“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”
His thrusts start growing erratic.
You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.
Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.
“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”
He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.
Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.
“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.
“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”
“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”
When you turn your head, your lips smash together.
The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.
You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.
“Fuck me full, daddy.”
Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.
“Say it again.”
“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.
“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.
“Daddy.”
A bite to your neck.
“Again.”
“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”
“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.
With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.
His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.
Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.
His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.
You feel so full.
Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.
He pants heavily into your ear.
Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.
His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.
Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.
But still, he hasn’t pulled out.
Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.
You can’t catch your breath.
“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.
You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.
“I love you.”
Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.
“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.
Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.
It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.
His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.
Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?
Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.
“Are you still hard?” you pant.
Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.
“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”
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r3ynah · 8 months
Text
I just like the idea of Red hood having a medic, that always finds him whenever and wherever.
Like my boy danny, can and will go to different measures, so he can just find the boss of the crime alley alive and well.
Getting hurt? No you aren't, patched him up and forcefully tucked him into bed with a kiss, Getting depressed? No you aren't, Wrapped him in a blanket and just let him read his novels all day and feeding him, Getting kidnap? No you aren't, Cue the corrupted video of Danny breaking in the kidnapper's lair and just freeing Red hood, No blood was shed that night, well not from Red hood that is.
Danny was something else Red hood will tell you if you ever bring up his Medic into a conversation, he would stare at the man with heart eyes as he accompanied him to do random check ups on people under Red hood's care in his civilian persona. Danny may seem weak and brittle but he can give a punch if he really wanted to, He was mysterious but at the same time so open.
Danny was prideful as he wore the medal of being the only one that knows Red hood's real apartment, and the only one that could break in and enter without getting his presence known, just to make sure the crime lord was sleeping and eating properly.
Red hood practically made a joke out of this and would always tell everyone that his medic will be mad, if he isn't in bed by curfew, and he needed to be back at his house by 10:00 sharp or he'll get dragged and thrown, who knew the all so scary crime lord had a bedtime, criminals and civilians often leave him be when the clock strikes 9:50 pm afraid of enraging the meta medic.
__
"I am telling you B, I can't do that right now, its almost my curfew." Red hood sighed in frustration, he was currently standing in the middle of the bat cave, ready to run if batman tried to talk again.
"This is an important, case Hood, and it requires your participation" Batman stood still, face devoid of any emotions " Afterall it has something to do, with crime alley, there has been a meta spotted, and its creating havoc all around the place."
Jason, blinked, blinked twice, then thrice
"Is that it?"
"Jason, can't you see that this person's dangerous, they had already committed several crimes of arson, assault, and destruction of property, this person is abusing it's powers."
"No im not." An offended voice, called out from the side. all head turned towards the source of the voice, only to be greeted by 6'1 tall boy, who had black hair and blue eyes, and looked just round in his younger adult years. "In my defense they deserved it, won't give me a discount when i literally had a coupon." he rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Who are you?" Batman asked, his guard up "And how did you get in here?"
"Red hood's medic and the meta you've labeling as dangerous, nice to meet you, and it wasn't that hard to spot this lair if you have x-ray vision" Danny greeted happily offering a handshake, which the dark knight didn't take, Danny retreated his hand in awkward silence.
"That was so sad" Jason cackled, as he pointed at Danny who gave him the middle finger.
"Shut, Its 10:30 pm, your bedtime was like 15 minutes ago, you don't get to talk until you're taller than me." Danny pointed at him.
"Fucking funny, im laughing" Sarcasm was laced in Jason's tone as he glared at Danny, before giving a sigh. "10:30 already shit, time does fly fast, when you're fighting a man in a furry costume" Red hood stated, as he walked towards Danny who only rolled his eyes.
"Bye B, i hope to not see you anytime this week or the next week." He nonchalantly waved bye to the older male, while walking towards his medic.
he turned his head to meet Danny's gaze, then smacked his arm making the man stumble. "Come on, now boss man do your thing"
Danny gave him, a glare before shoving him playfully, he then turned to look at empty air and practically ripped out a dimensional portal out of it, and pushed Jason in it who tripped.
"Bye Mr.Batman, it was nice meeting you" Danny bid farewell as he closed the portal on the Man who looked like he can use a break.
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