#Professional permanent hair removal

[indocanadasalonspabrampton]

4 Primary benefits of laser hair removal treatment

Removal of hair is generally time-consuming. There are many ways to accomplish this, however laser hair removal is the most well-known. It comes with many of the most impressive advantages, as well as proven results.

What is it that makes laser hair removal treatments so well-known? Check out the following answers.

Crucial benefits of laser hair removal treatment

What are the main reasons why people choose the laser hair removal procedure in the process of eliminating unwanted hair? Find out the answers.

1) Results that are proven: As stated the treatment has results that have been proven. It is a reliable procedure to rid you of hair that isn't needed. There are a variety of options to choose from however none are as effective as the laser method for hair elimination.

2) Results over the long term: The outcomes of this treatment will last for a long time. Therefore, the investment you make is definitely worth it. You won't notice the growth of your hair for a long time. If you're looking for an option that will provide long-term results, then laser hair removal is the best solution.

3) It takes less time: Laser hair removal is much faster when compared with other treatments. Therefore, if you're an active person laser hair removal is the best option since you don't have to spend a lot of time here.

4) No side effects: There are no adverse side effects that are serious with this treatment. There are some small side effects such as irritation of the skin and some swelling could be experienced, but they'll disappear in a short time. Therefore, you can be sure that you will not be experiencing any major side consequences of this treatment.

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[ganitsoni]

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[anagenesisbeautysecrets]

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[chrollohearttags]

kinktober day three

character: levi ackerman

show: attack on titan

kink: free use

word count: 2.5K

other themes + warnings: breeding, rough sex, choking, slight sonmo mention, anal/anal play (he spits on the ass for .2 seconds) clothes ripping, perv levi + he’s a lil mean (fuck 🤤), throat fucking, pussy eating, kitchen sex, daddy’s used a couple times and he calls reader a whore, creampie, aftercare 🥹

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･

there are so many things you hear about moving in with your partner. Living with someone permanently who you’ve only ever previously spent the night with…going from packing quintessential ‘spend the night’ bags to bickering over who’s toothbrush goes on which side of the holder. Having an extra load of laundry to tend to on wash days and finding extra space for all of your hair care products. It was no different when you and your boyfriend, Levi..whom you had been seeing for the better of two years asked you how you felt about you guys finally sharing a space. For a man who showed little enthusiasm about most things, he seemed to be rather excited about the prospect of getting to wake up next to you every morning rather than making the long commute across town to your apartment just to spend time together. It was rather sweet and with bells on, you accepted. Fast forward and it was hands down the best decision you two had ever made. Although there were a bit of growing pains in the beginning; getting used to someone else’s habits after living on your lonesome for so long was a bit difficult but eventually, things were going amazing.

however, it wasn’t the only upside to having your man in-house. Perhaps, the most notable perk was his very salacious appetite. And it would take more than your delicious cooking to quell his urges.

“Mmmph! Levi…babe..please.”

“Please what? This is what you asked for, right?”

the rhetorical question met with a loud moan and shocked gasp, stemming from the pleasure he was giving you. Bent over the kitchen counter..leg hiked up and spread wide open. Black lace panties covering your soaking slit; unable to be vexed to remove them as he so delicately devoured that sloppy little cunt. His tongue swirling across the thin sheath of material that separated his mouth and your plump pussy. How he loved the scent, flavor and essence of your sex, always craving it. Which is exactly why you tow cake to the consensus of allowing him to have you at any given time. Levi was a rather reserved man in the public eye..due in part to his work as a business owner and all around professional. He stayed to himself and never really made much of a fuss about anything. However, when you two got behind the comfort of closed doors, is when he began to shift. You had oftentimes heard stories of how couples saw a decrease in sex once they moved in together. How the novelty of it wore off when you guys had to see each other every day. However, Levi was an entirely different story. When you were by yourselves, he wanted you all the time, craved you even…sometimes, he couldn’t even wait until you made it through the door well enough before fucking you sensenless! Sometimes, you could be sleeping, lying on your side when you’d feel him slightly hiking your leg up and gliding in, using you as his own personal fleshlight. Sometimes, he’d come inside of you and you’d feel his warmth splattering your womb as you pretended to sleep. It was so fucking hot! But it didn’t stop there..if you were working, and he needed his daily dose, you were to stop whatever you were doing and let him have it. His salacious appetite could have been due in part to all those years of abstinence.

and you truthfully couldn’t complain when the sex was top tier. Especially right now…you had just gotten ready for work, all set to head out of the door when you heard footsteps trailing behind you. A stainless steel cup filled to the brim with coffee and your suitcase lie on the countertop. You were bent over, searching the cupboards for a particular item when you felt hands scouring your backside. Those palms roaming the polyester material of your tight fitting dress. Having watched you from the comfort of bed, getting dressed after stepping out of the shower. Placing on that lacy bra and panties set and it had him rather bothered..cupping his cock through those pajama bottoms, trying to feign off his urges, he could no longer pretend..with that, he made his way into the kitchen and to make a long story short…

“You’re the one that told me I could have you anytime..anyplace I wanted, no? That means whenever the fuck I feel like it.”

his word was absolute and you didn’t bother to attest it. Especially when you wanted the same thing. You’d never admit so but you were equally as perverse as he was. You liked the idea of being claimed and taken at any given moment. Even when you weren’t particularly in the mood. Hence why when he peeled the seat of those panties back and began toying with your slick ridden folds, you didn’t stop him. Rather, you raked your fingers through those jet back locks and guided his head along as he flicked his tongue directly over your clit. In a haste decision, he’d completely tear them off and keep going. He wanted nothing in his way right now. Grasping both asscheeks, he’d spread them apart and explore every crevice, hole and orifice on that sexy body.

“Yes, baby..fuck. Take this pussy..” and he’d gladly obliged. Suckling on those juicy folds, delicately working his tongue throughout that pretty little sex; eventually accruing a ring of your sticky juices around his mouth. He was loving every second. Faint, muffled moans would emit from his mouth as he enjoyed that delectable taste. His next point of focus was that plump ass and what lied between it..

“Fuck that, baby…I want to use all of these pretty holes. Stuff them all full this morning.”

standing on that sentiment when he’d run his tongue around the circumference of your little puckering asshole. The tightness flexing in his face as he spat onto it. He was truly enjoying every bit of this. As were you, gripping the marble countertops and becoming giddy from all the pleasure. “Ah! Ha…yeah..right there. That feels so good.” Admitting with a drawn out whine whilst proceeding to jiggle those heavy cheeks against him. He could have you whenever he wanted if he continued this. Alternating between your two entrances, covering both in generous amounts of saliva, he’d finally decide that you were properly aroused and lubricated so it was your turn to reciprocate that. Having cupped himself through those cotton bottoms, Levi would rise to his feet and force you down to the floor with one hand on your shoulder blade.

“C’mere..”

a hint of aggression over taking his tone as he got you beneath him; knees bent, legs parted wide open, heels supporting your weight..facing him and awaiting what he had next. The second you turned around, you were met with the overwhelming bulge only an inch apart from your face. “Open up, let me see that pretty fucking mouth of yours..”

commanding with a few tiny pats to the cheek. You’d happily open up and show him the strings of spit littering the insides of your jaws, just waiting to coat his cock. Placing a hand atop your head, he’d tilt it backwards and sideways as if he were carefully inspecting it. Using the opposite hand, he’d wrangle them down his waist until that thick, lengthy member sprang forth. Already dripping with precum and swollen at the tip..

“Go ahead, lick it.” instructing with a guiding hand gently giving your head down onto it. But you needed no help, even with the clear order to keep your hands by your sides. Levi would stand there, bucking his hips forward as he so casually fucked your mouth. Slowly stroking between that oral cavity and voluminous lips that were wrapped around him. You’d open a little wider..gulping sounds rising from your throat and a string of saliva pooling from your mouth. It was such a beautiful sight!

“My little whore, that’s the only job you need..sucking my dick and letting daddy take you when he feels like it. That’s all you need, right?” Cooing with a loving hand on your forehead, rubbing his thumb just barely above your hairline. Getting a nod in response but your eyes told it all. The sheer excitement you got from being treated like an object. From there, he’d continue using you like a cocksleeve..thrusting in and out at alternating speeds and drumming up more spit along the way. Your head was sandwiched between both hands as he relentlessly used that throat. Not even gagging once as he had you well trained. Watching that drool glide down to your tits, he wanted a better view so he'd also rip your top half open and expose your breasts. That slimy mixture spilling all over them and those erect nipples also. The entire thing was torn to shreds but it didn’t matter. He’d buy you another if that’s what it took. That makeup that you had spent an hour perfecting was now ruined but it was worth it. Eventually, he’d pop those balls into your mouth and allow you to suck them as well whilst jerking himself off. He was so turned on and that cock felt as if it were going to burst so yet again, you were jolted around and told to lean against the counter with your leg up to the ceiling. From the side, he’d hook a hand around your thigh and tug you closer.

“Please fuck me....” panting through gritted teeth as you stared intensely. But not to worry because before long, you were impaled on it and letting out loud gasps. He didn’t even bother to slow down either. Pounding that little sweet spot instantly. You were practically being jolted around, roughly handled and used to his will. Nothing else mattered right now, just helping him get his nut! “Oh fuck…yeah, that’s it. Give me that pussy..you're not leaving until all of this cum is inside of you. You hear me?” Slapping your ass with a sharp palm just for reassurance. You’d clutch down on the counter, head nearly in the sink whilst taking those deep thrusts. “Y-yes, daddy! Keep going…keep fucking me right there!” Begging whilst looking back. He couldn’t help but to chuckle when you all but came undone, relinquishing any resistance or hesitation you had about doing this. Of course, he knew you’d end up caving as you always did and give into your carnal desires. Tugging at the back of your neck, Levi forced your head up so that he could get your reaction whilst he filled you up with his first load. Asphyxiating your breath for a second, he’d tell you to clamp down and let go on his command. Hissing through gritted teeth, Levi tugged you back against his bare chest, ordering you to come for him. Those heavy, full balls smacking against your ass in the process..

“Squirt on this dick, baby. Come for me, I’m not asking..I’m telling. Do it.”

staying with pure tenacity in his tone, it made you shudder and your knees buckle underneath his weight. And shortly thereafter, you granted his wish and wet up his entire lower half, coming unglued right before his eyes. Something he’d always look forward to! “Damnit!—fuck..” He was a man, driven mad with lust..fueled by nothing more than his desire for you. “Goddd…you feel so fucking good, baby. I just don’t want to stop.” Confessing whilst reaching between your thighs to massage your clit. Still trying to invoke another orgasm, despite not even finishing your previous climax. But he needed that for his own selfish needs..to feel you clutching him so that you could work his nut out. Which didn’t take long, as you felt that warm seed spurting inside of your womb. Just as he promised, he’d fill you to the brim. Creamy white essence spilling from that fertile little hole. And he didn’t stop there..you were his to claim entirely. For his full, unbridled pleasure..

“AH—haaa..oh shit..” taking complete claim of your body by shoving himself balls into your alternate entrance, not even a full minute later. He truly was giving you no breathing room and yet, you were still pleading with him to give you more! To go deeper, to not stop until you were a complete wreck. “Right there! Hitting my fucking spot—come in this ass, baby..” screaming as he tugged you back with brute force; a vice grip around your throat and hair, laughing as he had practically driven himself into a state of desire filled insanity. A sticky mess of self lubrication ensured that he had easy access. Only focusing on how far he could take you and himself before crashing out. Sounds of skin collision and heavy smacking filled the entire kitchen, along with the very vulgar banter ensuing between you two. It was quite obvious that your neighbors would be absolutely pissed about it but neither of you cared. So as long as you could reach that climatic peak together!

“Alright, same time..look at me...”

“Okay, okay..”

and although it was a bit much; apparent by the tears forming in your eyes, he’d hold you close by the back of your neck you’d do exactly that and unravel right underneath his grasp. You both met at the same time…in a haze of passion, ecstasy and utter obsession. Obsession with one another’s bodies and the fact that the love you shared had not gone dormant in the slightest, as everyone had told you it would. Thank goodness you never listened!.. “I need a kiss, c’mere..” twisting your head around to shove his tongue in between your lips. Meeting in a haze of loving pecks. “I love you, Levi. That was perfect..” “I love you more, angel..thank you for taking care of me..” You had never felt better than you had in this moment. Although you were left a disheveled mess, he’d make certain you were well cared for by offering a proposal of what the rest of your day should entail..

“Hey, go ahead and call out. I’ll go get us some breakfast after we take a bath.” Bringing forth a warm smile to your face. “Of course, baby. I’d love that.” Regardless of if it landed you in a bit of trouble with your boss. Still a little sore from that brutal pounding, you’d take a minute before your boyfriend decided to hoist you over his shoulders..allowing you to wrap yourself around him for comfort. Needless to say, you’d need some time to recuperate!

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties @astrokatsuki

[uppervillagespa]

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[gojhoes]

Low Lays the Devil

summary: It doesn't take long for you to make a name for yourself as Kyoto's problem child. When Gakuganji threatens to expel you only two months into your first year, you're granted one last chance at saving your grades under the tutelage of Satoru Gojo.

- contents: Gojo x fem!reader, canon-compliant (if you squint) - warnings: MDNI, mature topics - wc: 5.7k

ao3 link

Two months into your first year at Kyoto Jujutsu High School, Yoshinobu Gakuganji ordered your transfer to the school’s sister campus in Tokyo. Reason being? According to the old man, it was insubordination and frequent conflicts. According to you, it was because you had a short temper and a smart mouth.

From the day you’d set foot on Kyoto ground, you were not well received. Your mother was a prominent higher-up in the jujutsu world whose ideals blatantly rejected the old ways that many sorcerers still clung to. There were many and more traditionalists in Kyoto, including your dear principal Gakuganji. So, your removal did not come as a shock.

The old cunt had actually called for your expulsion, but due to the influence your mother held among the higher-ups, you were graced with a final chance to attend school in Tokyo. Technically, you were on probation. Any negative reports would result in your immediate and permanent expulsion from either location. You were to be under the charge of Satoru Gojo, who had apparently accepted the assignment without hesitation.

“I’m honestly jealous,” said your friend Asami. “I hear Satoru Gojo is the one who trains the first years.”

Your knowledge regarding Satoru Gojo was limited to a handful of vague details. He was proclaimed the Strongest Sorcerer of the modern age and the pride of the Gojo clan. But despite the many of your mother’s meetings and events you’d tagged along for, you’d never once crossed paths with him.

Frankly, the whole situation was a load of bullshit.

The morning of June 2nd, you stood at the top of the stairs leading to Tokyo Jujutsu High with a duffel bag and a chip on your shoulder. It was a painfully sunny day with the kind of early summer humidity that made your clothes stick to your skin. You glanced down at your watch again- your new teacher was 12 minutes and 24 seconds late to retrieve you.

As you surveyed the campus, you thought it was strange to hear that this Satoru Gojo accepted a delinquent without any complaints. It unsettled you a little- not that you’d ever let it show, but your gut was telling you to stay vigilant.

“Oi!”

Your head snapped up in the direction of the voice. Traipsing down the path was a tall, white-haired figure dressed in the black suit typical of professional sorcerers. But as he grew closer, you were thrown off by the strips of bandages wrapped around his eyes. You adjusted the grip on your duffel bag and strode forward to meet him.

He was so tall that you had to tilt your head up to glimpse his face. His pink lips were drawn up into a slight smirk that seemed permanent. Despite the bandages concealing his eyes, his face was still very expressive. Suddenly, the memory of a quick exchange between you and your mother surfaced in your mind. Satoru Gojo? He holds the Six Eyes and the Limitless technique. The power radiated off this guy so intensely that it tickled at your skin when you got close.

“The Kyoto problem child,” he said. “Welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

You blinked at him. The Kyoto problem child? “Um, hi. You must be-”

He cut you off mid-sentence with a dramatic swoop of his arm. “Satoru Gojo, the best teacher you’ll ever have. Follow me.”

The first thought the came to mind upon viewing Satoru Gojo was that he was not old enough to be a real teacher. The second, goddamn it, being oh fuck, he’s hot. With people like Gakunganji running Kyoto, Gojo was a sight for sore eyes. And the universe had done you both the favor and the disservice of making him your teacher for the next 10 months.

He turned on one heel and started back the way he’d come. One of his strides equated to two of yours, and as you trailed behind him, you couldn’t help but to study the shape of his body that just barely showed beneath the clothes. How old was he? He had to at least be 20, but with the bandages, you couldn’t be sure. But now you understood why Asami had sighed so dreamily when she mentioned him before.

“I didn’t get the chance to read your file,” Gojo said offhandedly. “What made them send you to me?”

You felt your eye twitch. “You- you didn’t read it, but you accepted me anyway? What if I killed a higher-up or something?”

He was a quiet for a beat before responding. “Well, did you?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I would never speak of the potential deaths of my superiors so casually.”

You let out a sharp sigh. “No, I didn’t kill anyone. I just…fought a lot.”

You had expected him to know all of this already given that he'd agreed to teach you. You felt almost embarrassed now that you were being forced to put it into words. He urged you to continue when you went quiet for a moment.

“Go on.”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to curse as the strap of your duffel bag slid down your shoulder and dropped to the ground. You bent to retrieve it, cheeks burning, and when you stood, he was facing you with his hand extended.

“Give me that." Before you could protest, Gojo thrust out his hand until it landed on the strap just above yours. He gripped it, and his pinky just barely brushed yours as he moved to throw it over his shoulder. The lilac fabric and Spongebob pins seemed comical next to his large frame, but you were too embarrassed to revel in the humor. Your finger seemed to burn where he'd touched you, as fleeting as it might've been.

“Now,” he went on. “What happened?”

With your bag in his hand, you felt further obliged to tell the truth. “I don’t get along well with Gakuganji. Basically, I have one more strike and then I’m done for good.”

Gojo-sensei hummed, waiting for you to elaborate.

“...I also called Gakuganji a coward on more than one occasion.”

You weren't sure what you expected of his response, but the guffaw that this man let out took you by surprise. You stared at him blankly. "Is that right? And you made him feel so threatened that he sent you here?"

You started on a reply, only to be interrupted once again. "Well, it wasn't exactly-"

"That is the best thing I've heard in a long time," he said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "Gramps is still scared of teenagers."

And not for the first time, you thought then that coming here might’ve been a mistake. Gojo was crazy- any other adult would have chastised you for such a confession, and here he was calling the old man Gramps.

As you blindly followed Gojo-sensei, you couldn't help but compare the place to Kyoto. The campus itself was larger, though the buildings were about the same. You wondered what your old classmates were saying about you, if they even cared to mention your absence at all.

Gojo led you inside a large building with carefully carved roof tiles. He slid open the first door on the left before ushering you in ahead of him.

"Morning, first years!" he exclaimed as he stepped over the threshold. "Meet Kyoto's very own problem child."

You glared at Gojo, already very much already annoyed at the use of that nickname. The classroom was small and only two of the six desks were filled. You followed Gojo's gesture toward the girl sitting by the window. She sat with her legs propped on the desk, leaning back with her hands behind her head.

"That's Izumi-chan." The girl nodded in greeting, and Gojo swept his arm over to the boy sitting two seats over. "And Ito-kun. And you're our third first year. Isn't that great?"

Ito smiled and waved his hand. "You can sit next to me."

Gojo-sensei dropped your bag into your hands without warning and you jumped. Right after that, the door slid open behind you, startling you once more. You usually weren't so easily spooked- maybe the second shot of espresso that morning had been one too many.

"This is your student ID," said the man at the door. He was dressed in a business suit with black hair and a strained expression marring his face, like he was afraid you would yell at him. He held out a small white card to you, which you dropped on top of your bag.

"Thank you," you said. You lowered yourself down at the seat directly beside Ito and hung your bag from the back of your chair. The card was your student ID, displaying your name and date of birth. You cringed at the picture; they'd chosen one you'd taken while you were in middle school. Underneath it, however, read 'Status: semi-grade 1' in lettering so bold it could've been seen from across the room.

"You're a semi-Grade 1?"

You flinched at the voice in your ear, realizing Izumi had been standing over your shoulder to look at your ID. Before you could act on the urge to smack at her like a bug, her arm darted out to retrieve the card to get a better look.

She narrowed her eyes as she read. "Gojo-sensei, is this real?"

In two seconds, Gojo was on his feet and joining the girl behind you. He plucked your ID from Izumi's grasp and through the makeshift blindfold, his eyes flicked between you and the card. So, he really hadn't looked at your file. You felt a flicker of annoyance. What a prepared teacher he was.

Ito craned his neck to get a peek and you rolled your eyes at the way Gojo showed it to him like it was a funny video on his computer.

“How did you manage that?” Ito asked, looking to you with a dubious expression. “Your technique must be insane.”

“Can I have my ID back, please?” you said dejectedly, face burning with embarrassment from the attention.

It was true that such a high ranking for a sorcerer your age was quite rare, but it wasn’t something you cared to brag about. Your technique was hereditary, and the same one your mother possessed herself: time manipulation. Thanks to your mother, you'd spent the entirety of your academic career under the direct tutelage of a Grade 1 sorcerer. Your current ranking reflected this, and it was something the students in Kyoto blatantly condemned you for. *** Gojo was sure that he'd struck gold by taking you on as a student even without reading your file. You were the daughter of seemingly the only higher-up who had a brain, and Gakuganji hated you? It seemed too good to be true, but that confidence in you only solidified upon seeing the semi-Grade 1 ranking printed on your student ID.

As he peered over your packet of information, Gojo found himself becoming more and more intrigued by you. Your technique was time manipulation, which granted you the ability to pause, rewind, and fast-forward the actions of others at will. It was direct tampering with the timelines of your opponents; once you were skilled enough, you could fast-forward to the end of their life. He imagined it would cost a lot of your cursed energy, but the prospect of seeing such an event excited him.

There were few people in the jujutsu world who were willing to risk going directly against the higher-ups. He held great respect for any and all who held their ground against Gakuganji especially, and according to the reports before him, you had done so many times. It had reportedly mostly been childish outbursts, but he was still impressed by your gall. ***

READ THE REST HERE on AO3 (it's free)

[findmeinthefallair]

I talked about what I've noticed so far in Hunter's outfit: Link But the hair? He did not revert to short hair. Not onscreen, anyway (since it was a timeskip).

Because where could he even run to anymore, in the long run?

Trauma lands you in an exhausting maze of associating one thing with another. He can't think of a shortened hairstyle without associating that with Belos's return, the possession, and Flapjack...

Avoidance is one of the criterion of PTSD and C-PTSD (the other criterion include the instigating stressor, intrusive symptoms, negative alterations in cognitions and mood, hypervigilance/reactivity, and a few others though these are the main ones), along with the fact that mental health care is very case-by-case.

In his case, it's C-PTSD and it's a particularly lifelong condition where there is absolutely no simplicity of removing deep roots and expecting symptoms to be reduced to zero.

Some of the damage will be permanent.

However, seeing him in the epilogue scene really showed that he integrated his immense grief: perhaps he even tried cutting it short again to get some needed short-term distance from having been possessed.

But look where the road has eventually taken him to: even after 4 years or so, he has decided that his hairdo remains similar to when he lost Flapjack.

Connection heals, and it ain't limited to connections with people but also qualities like creativity. The Owl House, among its many core themes, has portrayed this so beautifully.

He shed a number of things from his dark past. His hair used to look prim and proper, professional, as Belos forced him to stay in line via severe abuse.

But he has integrated much of the rest. He found beauty in and around him. Creating and not destroying, bringing back palisman and replenishing the forests with palistrom trees. He found beauty in the human realm and that was the foretaste of a good meaningful life, after his time in the Emperor's Coven.

He decided to keep the hair noodle after all, for instance.

The road must have had plenty of twists and turns but he did not remain isolated in that throne room with Belos.

(Source: working as a therapist)

[blubushie]

biggest pet peeve in sniper art?

Oh boy. A few of these actually. (I'm assuming you mean Sniper TF2 and not general snipers in art...)

Under the cut cuz it's long.

His rifle drawn improperly. The anatomy is very simple and if necessarily, just reference instead of butchering it—even if you're doing realistic art, he uses a Remington 700, and there's more than enough reference photos online for the most popular sporting rifle ever sold. I've seen people draw it like a handgun. On a similar note–

Him shouldering his rifle incorrectly. Or just handling it incorrectly in general. Rifle slots in just above the armpit—when your stretch your dominant arm forward while leaning in and bracing your muscles, it forms a pocket at the shoulder just above your armpit between the head of your humerus and your pectoral muscle. This creates a firm pocket that the butt of a rifle will slot into. If it's not in this pocket, you're gonna have a bad time.

Using the wrong arm to support the rifle vs handle the trigger. I've seen horrors. While Sniper is implied to be ambidextrous, he shoots right-handed. This means the rifle slots on his RIGHT shoulder, and his RIGHT trigger finger is on the trigger. His LEFT HAND is used to support the weight of the rifle at the forestock. On a similar note–

Ambidextrous Sniper is cool and I love seeing left-handed Sniper when it's done properly. Downside—his right eye is his dominant eye, so unless his right hand is injured in a way that he can't pull a trigger with that hand, he would not be shooting left-handed.

Speaking of dominant eyes—you look down the scope with your dominant eye. The eye NOT looking down the scope is called your off-eye. YOU DO NOT CLOSE YOUR OFF-EYE WHEN SHOOTING. OFF-EYE STAYS OPEN. Firstly it's for safety, because if your off-eye is closed you can't see what's happening in your immediate vicinity. Two, it's for performance. You can't change targets as easily with your off-eye closed. Any sniper worth his salt, especially a professional, is keeping his off-eye open. This is hunting 101 and something Sniper, former outback hunter of dangerous game, would know and practise religiously.

Speaking of scopes—eye relief. You do not put your face right up to the scope. There should be 10cm or about 4 inches between your face and the scope. Otherwise when you fire you're going to get a black eye when the recoil makes the scope hit you in the face. You'll take your eye out, kid.

People who draw him with his comics hair and call that a mullet. Almost none of you know what a mullet it. A little tuft of hair at the nape of the neck isn't a mullet! Those who give him an actual mullet when you say that shit, I love you

People who draw his scars incorrectly. They make them look fresh—with the sutures still present. Sutures aren't permanent and are removed after a week to a few weeks, depending on healing and how deep the wound is. Once SCARRED he wouldn't have horizontal lines through the scars. He'd just have long scars and dotted scars alongside where the sutures used to be. And looking at my own scars, in most places you can't see the dotting from the sutures since the holes heal easy and don't often scar.

Skinny twiggy Sniper that looks like he's about to drop dead of malnutrition. Have you not read the comics? Do you not know what lean, functional muscle looks like? Fuck's sake.

Ok reckon that's all of them for now.

[jarofstyles]

Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

-------------

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people. 

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition. 

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her. 

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl. 

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry. 

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him. 

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing. 

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor. 

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her. 

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.” 

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?” 

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?” 

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough. 

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general. 

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?” 

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.” 

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.” 

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all. 

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.” 

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong. 

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread. 

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight? 

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry. 

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods. 

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand. 

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets. 

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better. 

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself. 

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you. 

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted. 

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing. 

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret. 

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit. 

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back. 

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her. 

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head. 

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth. 

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him. 

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.” 

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him. 

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N. 

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?” 

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full. 

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.” 

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave. 

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that? 

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.” 

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface. 

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it. 

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her. 

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.” 

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought? 

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array. 

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her. 

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his. 

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.” 

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top. 

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.” 

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it. 

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.” 

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally. 

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?” 

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them. 

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began. 

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed. 

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket. 

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.” 

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over. 

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun. 

—------

Y/N was so beautiful. 

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen. 

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him. 

[gentrychild]

Happy New Years Gentry!! Question, how did the Anyone crew spend the New Years?

They didn't run through the portal as much as urgency propelled them through it. They emerged on the beach in a fit of sorrowful howling, varied cries of pain and one high-pitched-shriek made of the panic one could only feel during a close call with death while having to keep moving in order not to make that encounter permanent.

Izuku, though, didn't utter a sound, because he was cold-headed, professional, and slightly on fire.

Well, very on fire. The only thing separating him from third degree burns was the speed at which he was moving and even then, his entire back felt very hot and he was a second away of having his hair catching fire before he threw himself into the sea. At the same time, one of the Todoroki brothers made a noise of concern and his Todoroki iced him. While the sudden ice cube soothed the warm spots over his skin, which was always appreciated, finding his way back over the surface got slightly more complicated and Izuku had to use Float to emerge.

On the beach, Todoroki was face down in the sand and showed no intention to move. Kurogiri and Dabi, covered in mud from head to toes, had somehow managed to crash into each other and were trying to disentangle themselves, but the process was made quite complex by the fact that Hawks was half sitting, half lying on top of them, while clutching an also covered in mud Nagisa.

The spider hacker, wearing a once red cocktail dress, was clutching the silver briefcase with both her arms and legs, and she was generally communicating her intent to die before any of the security detail they had left in the jungle could get their hands on it.

This was why Nagisa was Izuku's favorite member of Anyone.

"Make some noise if you're alive," Izuku called as he removed his now ruined jacket. Not that he was regretting it. So many people had mistaken him for a deaged All for One at this party that he had sworn to himself to destroy that suit at the first occasion.

Everyone grunted, which was encouraging.

"Anyone injured?"

No response. Which was perfect. Izuku just had to secure the briefcase in the vault downstairs, take a hour long shower, and he would ordered pizza.

The teenager was about to do just that when he marked a pause. He hesitated.

He felt like he was forgetting something. Something important. Something that should have been really obvious.

Todoroki raised his head from the hole in the beach his head had created and started to count the people present here. A first time. A second time. A third time. He squinted, obviously not liking the math, then sighed.

"We forgot All for One there."

Oh.

Well, this was why Todoroki was Izuku's other favorite member of Anyone.

"He will be fine," Kurogiri decided, before putting the back on his head back on the sand and presumably passing out from exhaustion.

"Yes," Hawks confirmed. "I am sure he is having fun. That quirked alligator didn't look like it was biting him too hard."

Izuku felt himself fall on the beach, which was a conscious decision and not his legs giving out.

"And he's always boasting about his quirks," Izuku added. "He won't take him more than a couple of weeks to fly back to Japan."

Everyone nodded.

At the same time, fireworks exploded in the sky, filling the world with color. The fine members of Anyone stared at it in silence, their heads empty of any thought, just admiring the pretty colors.

"Happy New Year," Nagisa said in a trembling voice.

[majorblinks]

hard to break the habit ((g)i-dle yuqi, minnie)

(smut, public sex, degradation, choking, biting, squirting, car sex, anal, threesome, strap-ons, sadomasochism, mentions of blood, sex tapes, fluff, 22k words, technically a companion fic to this but you don’t have to read that one first)

Here’s the thing about this disaster, this whole mess with Minnie and Yuqi - you can’t even go for denial. Oh, it’s all documented: you’ve got all this picture proof. Photos, videos, hidden folders on computers - you’ve got Yuqi’s pink hair all over it, Minnie’s black bangs, skin on skin on skin-

“Wow,” says Yuqi, in front of Minnie’s laptop, with Minnie half in her lap and half in yours. “You’re actually really photogenic, now that I’m looking at all this. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“Thanks,” you say. “I’m glad that’s your main takeaway from our sex tapes.” 

It’s so crude. You’d never thought yourself the type for it: all the pornographic filth, the focus, the filmography. If you were a more creatively inclined person, you could probably find some art in it, but that’s not your style and you won’t bother. Every video is hard evidence that you three’ll permanently ruin each other one day, if you keep going on like this. 

“You know what my main takeaway is?” Minnie asks, a proposition in the way she looks between the two of you. There’s a danger to it, but - well, you can’t really bring yourself to give a fuck. 

Yuqi glances at her, lips twitching: there’s a smile she’s suppressing. “What?”

“I think we’d be really great in a sequel.” 

-

Well, if you wanna talk main players, settings and scenes, you should know that this is how it all begins:

It’s a weekend - isn’t it always? - and there’s a burlesque club - that one’s a little rarer - but Club Cosmic’s a classic, a stage pointedly set for debauchery. Call it a breeding ground for that kind of shit, or something like that. You’re behind the bar. You’re always a little removed from the action. You’re a professional, but then there’s nights like this. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you tell Jeon Soyeon, as she hops up on a barstool. 

“I didn’t know you were working tonight." Soyeon's unaffected by the patented customer service charm - you’ve been friends for long enough that you know all of each other’s tricks. “Is it usually this packed?” 

“Yep.” You’ve worked at Club Cosmic as a bartender for a few months now, and there’s always something for everyone, that’s their selling point: there’s the scantily clad women, and then there’s the music. “Saturdays. What are you doing here?” 

“My band?” Soyeon waves a hand behind her vaguely, like it’ll somehow summon the rest of her bandmates. “We got booked here because our keyboardist is friends with Lisa.” 

“Oh, congrats!” Saturdays, like you said: it’s Club Cosmic’s version of an open mic night, where they let outside performers take the stage. You really have to impress the manager to get a gig here - or at least exercise strategic friendships. Lisa’s the new rookie choreographer, but she’s brilliant, she’s got pull here. Hey, that’s showbiz: all about connections. 

“That’s so cool,” you say, and you mean it. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen your band play yet.” Soyeon’s busy, you’re busy: the stars never quite seem to align. 

Soyeon’s lips tilt. “Well,” she says, and they’re all aligning now. “I hope we don’t disappoint.” 

-

You get swept up in the rush of the night, easily. The music’s great, the club’s dark, the people are chatty and every woman wants something from you, and not just drinks. It’s the whole himbo thing you’ve got going on, Soyeon tells you, and frequently - you just seem dumb as shit, she’d said, and not meanly. Like, so clueless, but in a very well-intentioned way. It’s very compelling, to the right people. 

Is that a compliment? you’d said, at the time. 

I’d take it as one, Soyeon replied, so you did. 

“I swear I don’t mind filling in.” When you check back in with Soyeon, there’s a remarkably pretty blonde girl sitting beside her, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. “Plus,” the blonde girl’s saying, “my boyfriend’s never seen me play before, so for once she did me a favor by being such a flake.” 

Onstage, one of the regular performers is charming the crowd, doing some routine with a chair, a blazer she’s peeling off. She strips - the crowd goes wild. Soyeon notices you before the blonde does, says, “Hey, let me get your opinion on something.”

“Sure.” 

Soyeon ducks her head, leans in to combat the whooping audience. “Purely hypothetical, here,” she says. “If you were in a band, and you had a member of your band who ditches a ton of your gigs, would you kick them out?” 

You’d never be in a band because your musical talent is nonexistent, but that’s neither here nor there. “Well,” you say, genuinely considering. “It depends. Are they my friend? Are they ditching gigs for a good reason? If that’s the case, then I’d probably let it slide.” 

Soyeon laughs, like you’re predictable. “That’s sweet,” says the blonde girl, tipping forward. “Hey, you go to our college, right? I’m-” 

“Oh my god.” 

Like it’s nothing - like she’s not interrupting a damn thing, and if she were, she’d be completely justified - a girl plops herself right into the seat next to Soyeon. “Literally,” she pronounces, smacking both hands palm-down on the bar like she’s readying for war, “the only reason we got the gig is because of her connections - or what-the-fuck-ever - and she can’t even be bothered to show up?” 

This is obviously related to Soyeon’s hypothetical - and this girl obviously disagrees with you, vehemently. That’d be enough to strike up a debate, but there’s one thing that’s keeping you from words, from a fight waiting to happen, and it’s the only point more obvious than your conflicting opinions-

See, she’s a huffy whirlwind of pink hair and wild hand gestures and this smoky perfume that carries even across the bar - and she’s unbelievably, insanely, mind-numbingly beautiful. You’d argue your position, but you can’t even speak. You shouldn’t stare but you’re staring. She’s all dark eyes, sparkly eyeshadow, eyebrows furrowed ferociously - she’s got the face of an angel, the cadence of a goddamn chainsmoker - she jams one of her nails straight to the lip of the counter, parts her pink-glossed lips-

“She needs to die,” the girl says. “The next time I see her, I’m beating the shit out of her.” 

She’s got this vicious edge that shouldn’t be nearly as captivating as it is. She’s being loud, overdramatic, aggressive, antagonistic. She’s clearly a little batshit, and it’s so fucking stupid - but you’re kind of obsessed on sight. 

“Chill,” says Soyeon, admirably unfazed. “I know you’re a lunatic, but dial it back a little.” 

“Fine, okay.” The pink-haired girl rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, throat bobbing as she swallows: you’re caught on every single move. “Death is too far. She just needs to get kicked out of the band, stat.” 

“You think you could beat the shit out of her?” the blonde asks, mouth in a delicate curl. “Please be serious.”

“I am.” The pink-haired girl leans her elbows back on the counter, suddenly perfectly smug. There’s an visible arrogance to her that shouldn’t be charming and somehow is anyway. “I could do a lot of things to her.”

“Oh, gross-“

Without any warning - and you think there should be, alarms wailing, lights flashing; no one should be expected to face her without at least some prior tip-off - the girl shifts on her stool, and zeroes in on you with sniper-shot precision. 

“Eavesdropping is fucking rude,” the girl says. “I should report you to your boss.”

“Uh,“ you say, because she’s so hot head-on that your brain forgets how to string together a sentence. 

“Jesus Christ, Yuqi.” Soyeon swivels on her stool. “He’s not eavesdropping. I was having a conversation with him and then you just barged in, so if anyone’s being rude, it’s you.”

“Oh,” says the girl - Yuqi - and she’s delightfully, wholly unapologetic. She shrugs a shoulder at you, unperturbed. “My bad, man.” 

“No problem,” you say, and you don’t know how anyone in the room is looking at anything but her. 

“I wouldn’t have actually reported you to your boss.” You’re stuck on those night-sky eyes, the alluring fix of her mouth, the way her lip gloss complements the pink of her hair like she’s straight out of a painting, a pointed example of color theory. “I’m not a snitch. Just - you know, making threats is pretty fun sometimes. All the drama. Hey, you’re kind of cute - has anyone ever told you that before?” 

You’re not blushing - you don’t do that - but it’s sort of close. You can’t help it; she’s just such a production, the hair and the mouth and the attitude. 

“Oh my god,” mumbles the blonde to Yuqi, hands over her eyes, appalled. “Be normal, I’m begging you.”

“Sure,” you say to Yuqi, miraculously keeping your cool. “I’ve heard it once or twice.” 

Yuqi’s very conspicuously eyeing your biceps in your shirt. “Do you work out a lot? You look like you work out.”

It’d be flirtatious in any other context - and maybe it still is, in this one - but there’s this matter-of-fact way that she says it that makes it slightly hilarious. You don’t know where you’re going but at least you’re getting somewhere. “Yeah, pretty often.”

“Hmm,” says Yuqi, jutting her bottom lip out approvingly. “Okay. Sick.” 

“Yuqi.” The blonde is actually starting to flush pink - you’ve never seen someone feel second-hand embarrassment so acutely. “Please.”

“I’m not doing anything,” says Yuqi, and inclines her head at you, assessing, appraising - she doesn’t smile, more so nods like she’s checked for flaws and found you serviceable. “I’m being super normal. You’re cool,” she says to you, apropos of nothing.

“You don’t know me,” you say, hypnotized. 

It’s all in the background - the previous performers on the stage wrapping up their number, Soyeon hopping off her stool, trying to corral both Yuqi and the blonde, the lights and the drinks and the vibe. That’s all faded, and for those few moments, it’s just her: Yuqi’s hair spills over her shoulders like water, and she’s watching you like you’re a challenge to be taken, like you’re something she wants to possess and own and ruin. 

(Oh, you’re not nearly as clueless as you seem, on the surface; you’d like to see her try.)

“Nope,” says Yuqi, unbothered. Her mouth tilts steeply, finally, finds a smirk like a weapon. “But I think I’d like to.” 

Her fingertips skim the counter. She’s got on ridiculous acrylic nails, like Soyeon, but only some of them are intact; she’s missing one on the thumb on her left hand, missing more on her right: the pointer finger, the middle, the ring. There’s something about her stare that makes you think she’d like to rip you apart, if given the chance; she’d dig in her claws and start tearing, if she ever got you alone. 

“Break a leg,” you say, slightly breathless - and now you know exactly where you’re going. 

“Thanks,” Yuqi says, the flash of her teeth like fangs, and it hits you like oncoming traffic: she’s gonna get everything she wants from you and then some. 

-

Time slips out of order, or maybe that’s just a cliché. You’re behind the bar, and Yuqi’s center stage, shadow and light and her fingers all over this red electric guitar, her lips pressed to the microphone-

The songs are good, all of them. There’s Soyeon on the drums, and the blonde on the keys, and two other girls, both black-haired and gorgeous, on the bass, on another guitar - but the only thing you can look at is her. 

It’s that damn outfit she’s in - black and white, patterned, showing off her taut, toned midriff, her sharp collarbones - and it’s the way she moves, like sex itself, a suggestion just in the swing of her hips and the clap of her knee-high boots across the stage - but more than anything, it’s that voice. You’re caught, shellshocked. You’re not even sure you’re doing your job properly. Yuqi’s singing, and it’s a siren calling to shore, or a spell, or a succubus - it’s unreal, the way she sounds, like you could listen to her forever. 

Time gets away from you, and Yuqi’s eyes meet yours, glimmering darkly under stage lights. 

(You’re not fucking her yet, but you both already know how this ends.)

-

It all happens so fast - everything’s fracturing, fragmentary - one minute you’re staring at Yuqi onstage and the next she’s leaning over the bar, neck and tits all sweat-slick, gaze raking up and down your body, straight-razor sharp. 

“You work here,” she says. There’s more music onstage, more people crowding the bar. You’ve got colleagues who’ll cover for you. You’ve got time. 

“Yeah,” you say, even though it’s not a question.

“Great.” Yuqi moves like the music’s patterned beneath her skin, a bass line and a beat and a melody. “Then you know a good place we can fuck and not get caught.” 

You just met her, and there’s zero reason this should be happening - you’ve been immune to beautiful women who’ve wanted to fuck you before, you’ve kept your composure, you’ve been professional - but Yuqi’s looking at you like she’s already won this game, gun to your temple, knife to your throat. She’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that: it’s the danger, the recklessness. She’ll send you off a cliff and laugh when you hit the bottom. 

“Yeah,” you say, again, throat desert-dry. Well, it’s a risk you’re willing to take. “I guess I do.” 

-

There’s a single-stall employees-only bathroom that’s always occupied, but you two somehow get lucky. 

Yuqi backs up against the counter, tips her chin up at you like she’s cocking a rifle. She’s breathing a little unevenly, wrought with anticipation - she’s trying to hide it, affecting nonchalance. “So?” she asks, licks her bottom lip. Your fingers find the bare strip of skin at her waist between her top and her skirt. “Do you need me to give you an instruction manual, or you think you can figure out how to fuck me all on your own?” 

She says it boredly, like she’s trying to go for icy bitchiness, but everything she says is so hot, in every sense of the word - angry and cutting and pissed off, a fire striking in the kindling of her irises. Your grip tightens on her waist and she doesn’t flinch a bit. 

“Drop the attitude,” you snap, so harsh that you surprise yourself. 

Yuqi’s eyebrows fly up; you’re not the only one startled. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” All of a sudden, it’s like you realize how much smaller she is than you - she talks a big game, but she’s got nothing to back it up. “You’re the one who was desperate enough to get a random stranger to fuck you in the bathroom, so drop the attitude or you’re not going to get fucked at all.” 

You’re not even sure where the words come from. You’ve had girlfriends before, but all the sex has been sweet, sentimental, loving - you don’t know where the cruel edge to your tone comes from, only that it tosses kerosene to the fire behind Yuqi’s eyes, catches flame at her parted lips. You’re mean and she likes it. If you’re rough, then she’ll-

It’s like you’re a man possessed. In one smooth, deliberate motion you ruck up her tiny skirt around her waist and brush your knuckles against the crotch of her panties, and-

You’ve barely done anything. You’ve touched her waist and you snapped at her. And Yuqi’s so, so wet.

“You,” Yuqi says, vague with a point, a purpose - like oh: you’re about to be more than I bargained for. 

“Me,” you agree, and watch her grin turn devilish. 

-

Yuqi doesn’t drop the attitude. No, actually, she seems to take your order as a challenge and nothing more, because-

“Jesus fuck,” says Yuqi, like it offends her, her hand on your cock over your pants - when she squeezes, she’s not gentle, and then she’s going for the zipper. “You’re this hard already? I’m not even naked.” 

“Look who’s talking.” The moment she gets your cock out, you grab her wrist in your hand, pin it back to the counter. It’s taking all your effort to not go wild on her right now - to not flip her around, rip her underwear, shove your dick deep in her pussy. “You’re creaming your fucking panties just at the thought of my cock inside of you, Yuqi.”

Yuqi’s fierce eyes snap up to yours, cheeks flushing angrily, prettily. “Shut your fucking mouth.” 

“Oh, are you gonna make me?” 

In a second Yuqi’s fisting the front of your shirt between her fingers - faintly, you register that one of her ridiculous fake nails hooks against your sternum and scrapes, smarting - but that all falls away, because she’s kissing you, and then falls even further, because there’s a much more prevalent pain at your mouth when Yuqi’s teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard. 

You almost choke on your breath from the unexpected hurt - you can’t help it - and pull back, heart pounding. There’s something in this: the high, the adrenaline. It hurts - and you don’t think you’ve ever been harder in your life. “What the fuck?”

“What?” asks Yuqi, smile cunning. She’s gorgeous, she’s evil; her fingers twitch like there’s a lot more damage she could be doing. 

“You bit me,” you say, incredulous. There’s the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, a red smear on the back of Yuqi’s hand as she presses it to your bottom lip, draws it back in interest. “You actually fucking bit me.” 

“Yeah,” replies Yuqi, unabashed. “I’m aware, thanks.” 

“I’m bleeding.” 

“Great.” 

Oh, she’s just begging to rile you up: you can see it in her eyes, in the way her focus drops from your face to your cock, circles back around. It’s a game, for her: to see how far she can push you. To see what you’ll do when she’s got you at the edge. 

You’re seething, you’re seeing red; you won’t mind showing her. “You fucking - dumb fucking whore, Yuqi-” 

“What?” 

You rip her panties down to her knees - there’s her cunt, pretty and pink and dripping wet - and then you’ve got two fingers inside of her, just like that, and the throaty, stunned gasp you get from Yuqi - the way she buckles under you against the bathroom counter - is like you’ve already got her neck between your hands. There’s power here, there’s fury - it’s in your veins, thrumming, it’s in her eyes, her ridiculously tight pussy, dripping-

“I’m not one of your little toys who’s gonna just let you push them around, darling,” you say, and it’s almost a taunt; you’ve never heard yourself like this, callous and cruel even to your own ears. Your other hand slides down the toned curve of her back. “If you act up, you’re gonna get what you earn.” 

Yuqi’s chest is heaving, teeth dug hard into her lip, trying to choke down her moans, trying to wrestle back the upper hand. It’s a lost cause: her cunt’s leaking all over your fingers, your wrist. She’s fucking soaked - and there’s all that unadulterated rage in her eyes, irate that you’re the one in control, that she very clearly loves it-

And then just as you draw your fingers out of her pussy, your hand comes down hard on her ass. 

Yuqi shrieks - or she would, but your slick hand clamps down over her mouth, the other one ravaging her ass, groping, slapping, getting whatever you can. She’s wild, smacking your shoulder with an open palm, trying to get you to let her go, but then her fingers sneak under the collar of your shirt and-

A stinging pain, right across your collarbone. Immediately, you lose your grip on her. “Shit, you fucking-” 

Yuqi takes advantage of your shock, slips out from where you’d had her pinned against the counter. You turn only halfway, struck, and in a second flat she’s shoved you roughly against the counter, the lip digging into your lower back. She’s breathing unevenly, staring - she’ll let you break the lull. 

“You scratched me,” you say, astonished. You’re probably bleeding again. “You psycho bitch.” 

“Yep,” says Yuqi, simply, pale pink hair a disaster and her underwear tangled at her ankles. You haven’t even gotten your cock in her and she’s already a goddamn mess. “I did.” 

“You’re fucking crazy.” 

“And you’re the one dying to fuck me.” Yuqi’s hands are curled into tight fists. Her skirt’s shoved unceremoniously up around her waist, and you can see how wet she is - her cunt’s glistening, caught up in the overhead lights. Her thighs gleam with sweat. “What does that say about you?” 

It’s all a game you’re playing, in the end - you’re at opposite ends of the battlefield, waiting to see who makes the first move, mapping out weapons, weaknesses. She talks like she’s ten feet tall and she’s tiny. She’s got a mouth on her like she’s bulletproof and you could probably snap her clean in half. 

“I think that says I’m gonna get exactly what I want,” you say, and then you shove her chest-first up against the wall, and slide your cock right into her pussy. 

Oh, there’s no hiding anything now - Yuqi’s moaning between her stuttered, hiccuped breaths, crying out when you smack at her ass, then at her thighs - it’s so loud, and anyone passing by is going to know - so you might as well take it all the way. Talk about possession, ruination; you’ll show her the definitions, mark them into all that fair, smooth skin, carving like it’s marble. It’s what she wants, what she won’t admit out loud. You’ll make her, in time. 

“Look at you,” you growl; you’re barely keeping it together. You’ll never get over this pussy - so tight, and so warm, and so wet. “Moaning like a bitch in heat around my cock. Yuqi, if this is what you wanted-” 

“Fuck you,” snaps Yuqi, and jerks her elbow back, sending the sharp point of it right into your ribs. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk, useless dipshit-” Her voice breaks off on a whimper, and she’s bucking her cunt right back on your cock - it’s violent, and it must hurt - but then you realize that that’s precisely the point. You hand finds her hair, wraps it up into your fist, tugs hard; you’ll give in. “Just fuck me. Just fuck me.” 

Yeah, you’ll give her what she wants, too; it’s so convenient that you just happen to want the exact same thing. 

There’s no room for patience, for sweetness - it’s all about cut corners and the ungodly vice grip of her pussy, how Yuqi fucks you like there’s a threat in it, how you’re fucking her just the same - call the blood in your mouth foreplay, the red welts forming on your collarbone setting the mood; you bring your hand down hard on her hip just to see her tremble, trying to do anything but admit how much she’s living for this kind of fucking: rough, ruthless, mean.

“No, I know what you want.” Her shoulder hits the wall; her foot in her platform heel connects with your shin. You tug her head back so you can see her expression, make an example of a demon. “You just want me to cum all over that pretty little face.” 

There’s that split second of panic, cracking Yuqi wide open - it’s written all over her features, in how her cunt is gushing around your cock, so tight - she’s so close, and you’ll take it as far as she wants to go. “What? Wait - no, don’t-” 

“Is that what you need, Yuqi?” You’ve got your hair in your fist, and you’re pounding her cunt like you’re trying to tear her in two. “Me, cumming all over your fucking face - in all this hair-” You yank her hair harder to make a point, and Yuqi sobs, can’t hold it back. “And make you walk out there, covered in my fucking cum - drag you out there in front of everyone, so they all know that you’re just a worthless fucking cumrag for my cock-” 

“You sadistic motherfucker,” Yuqi spits, but it comes out strangled between her raspy moans. She turns her head halfway - the tears glittering in her fiery eyes is like victory, like your name all in lights. “You fucking asshole. I’ll kill you. If you fucking cum on my face and make me go out there, I’ll-” 

She never actually finishes her warning, because her back arches, and she’s cumming all over your cock. 

“Well,” you say, and you’ll let it go: it all turns out the same, anyway. “Maybe next time, baby.” 

And then you pull out of her and spill your load all down her creamy thighs. 

For a second, it’s like it all tunnels - you forget where you are, who you are, there’s a girl in front of you and she’s exhausted and stunning and devious, and there’s your cum dribbling down her pale skin - and then clarity returns, and Yuqi’s slumped against the wall, her head tipped sideways so her cheek rests against your shoulder. She’s breathing hard - there’s music outside, somewhere far off - everything’s wet and hot and woozy-

Yuqi huffs out an airy noise, and your eyes flash right to hers.

There’s that fire, sparking, bordering an inferno. For a second, you wait with bated breath: will she scream at you, will she slap you, reprimand you, tell you that you went too far-

It’s none of that, in reality: you’ve picked up on all her signs just like she wanted you to. Yuqi’s head tips back against you, her eyes sliding closed. There’s all that tension between you two, pulling taut, snapping, tying up its ropes. Your hand closes around her waist, gentle - you’re past leaving bruises, here. You’ll mind your edges. You know when a moment falls shut. 

“God,” she says, finally, and then she grins so widely you swear she bursts the bathroom lighting, her fingers sliding between yours. “You - holy fuck.” 

“Holy fuck,” you agree, spent, euphoric, and you know right then: you’ll never be able to get over this. 

-

It’s weird, how easy it is: you grab some paper towels, help Yuqi clean the cum off the backs of her thighs. She inspects herself in the mirror, swivels from side to side. There’s absolutely no reason she should’ve let you - a complete stranger - do half the things you just did to her, but at least that goes both ways.

“Your tattoo’s really cute,” you say, surprised.

“I’m a really cute person,” says Yuqi, pulling her skimpy panties back up around her hips, eyes glittering like gunmetal.  

“Uh,” you say - it’s not the first word you’d choose. 

“I’m adorable,” reiterates Yuqi, tossing her hair, and she has this loud, brash way of saying things that makes unexpected laughter bubble up from your chest. You’re a little delirious. It’s to be expected. 

Yuqi lifts an eyebrow at you. “Are you laughing at me?” 

“That was the most insane sex I’ve ever had,” you admit. 

Yuqi smiles, suddenly cheeky - and, fine, you see the cute thing, now that she’s not fucking you like she wants you dead. “Honestly?” She shrugs her thin shoulders. “I have a lot of intense sex, but - yeah. You really…” She waves a hand up and down her body - there are the red handprints forming on her thighs, hips, ass. “You did a number on me, dude.” 

“You too,” you say, charmed. There’s your bleeding shoulder, your raw bottom lip from where she’d bitten you; you’ll probably wake up with bruises from her shoving you into the counter. “Dude.” 

“Everything was…” Yuqi flips you a thumbs-up. “Good? Not too rough?” 

(Oh, here’s the kicker: she may fuck you like she’s a demon trying to steal your soul, but that’s all over now; she’s sweet, she’s genuine. You never do this: you’re not someone who has sex with strangers, and not in public, and not like that. There’s no reason she should be as comfortable with you as she clearly seems to be.)

“Good,” you confirm, mesmerized by her face; her dark eyeshadow’s a little smudged, eyeliner messy. It adds to the whole seductive rock star look like it might’ve been pre-planned. “We can work out limits in the future, yeah? Set boundaries.” 

Yuqi latches onto it like you figured she would. “Oh,” she says, voice already steeped in ridicule - she can’t pass up giving you shit. “In the future.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Yuqi gathers her hair up off her neck, lets it drop, pleased. “You want me so bad.” 

“No, I had sex with you because I feel no desire towards you whatsoever.” 

Yuqi laughs right before she drives her fist into your shoulder - but it’s too late, by then. She’s got the most gorgeous laugh you’ve ever heard: rich and raspy, so full it engulfs the room, drowns you two in it - and she laughs with her whole body, too, shoulders shaking, head tossed back. She laughs and you’re a fucking goner. 

“God damn,” you say, grinning, pressing your hand to your shoulder. That’s another bruise waiting to happen. “You’re so aggressive.” 

“Right back at you,” Yuqi says, and she’s got a point, she’s got several. It’s a score to settle at a later date - you’ve been here long enough. Yuqi taps your wrist, gestures to the door, her intent unspoken: time to face the music. 

-

See, you’re not expecting to get out entirely unscathed, but you’re not expecting two of Club Cosmic’s veteran performers to just be waiting out there for you two, wrapped up in lingerie and silk robes, guarding the door like they’re particularly slutty angels and it’s Judgment Day. 

“Oh my god,” you say. Yuqi, to her credit, looks undaunted - you have no idea how she’s pulling it off. “You guys are creeps. Were you eavesdropping the whole time?” 

“We weren’t eavesdropping,” says Bona, tucking her long curtain of dark hair behind her ears. She’s not an inch over five-four and even in heels manages to look delicate. “You were the ones who decided to have very noisy and disruptive sex in the employee bathroom.”

“Yeah,” says Eunseo, leveling you with a very pointed glare. “I have to pee.” 

It’s less than convincing. “Right.” 

“Okay, fun,” says Yuqi, breaking any sort of suspense in that straightforward, vaguely tactless way you’re quickly realizing is her trademark. Ah, she’s got half a smile on, hands laced in front of her - it somehow manages to come off cute instead of caustic. With a face like that she’s probably never had an issue getting away with the attitude. “So - is there anything else you two needed, or-” 

“Jiyeon has a question.” 

“Bona,” corrects Bona, elbowing Eunseo. “Christ. I’m on the clock.” 

“Sure,” says Yuqi, mildly intrigued. Her chin’s tilted up, slender arms crossing over her chest. She looks exactly like she’s been getting the life fucked out of her and she doesn’t seem a bit self-conscious about it. “Make it quick.”

“Fine, fine.” Yuqi’s being bossy to the point of being rude, but Bona’s lips tilt in a conspiratorial grin, undeterred. “So, what’d you rate it?” 

Yuqi quirks an eyebrow. “His dick, or-” 

“The bathroom. Like, out of ten, how good is it to have sex in?” 

“Bona’s been trying to seduce one of the investors for, like, months,” Eunseo explains.

“Baby,” drawls Yuqi, even though she must be younger than Bona - and miraculously, it sounds suggestive rather than condescending, although that could be the glint in her eye as she gives Bona a languid once-over. “If it’s taking months for you to get this guy to fuck you, he’s obviously either blind or insane. You’re gorgeous. I’d give it up.” 

It’s her tone, her expression; Bona, who makes a living off of being drooled over, freezes in place, suddenly a little spellbound. “Um,” she says. 

“She’s not wrong,” you add, amused. Well, it’s good to know you’re not the only one so easily dazzled. It’s the arrogance, the husky voice, the disheveled state of Yuqi’s hair, her thighs still red from how rough you were - you’re not sure anyone with a pulse could resist her.

“I’d give it a ten,” says Yuqi, winks, pats your shoulder. She’ll pull out the charisma when it counts. “I’m very satisfied.” 

-

“Hey,” Yuqi says, and you’re making your way towards the front, even though you’re technically still supposed to be working. By the doors, the pretty blonde in Yuqi’s band is wrapped up with this guy who’s so much taller than her their height difference is almost comical. “There’s a party next Saturday that you should go to.” 

You glance over at her. “Are you asking me or telling me?” 

“Telling you,” says Yuqi, stone-faced, radiant eyes alight. “It’s an order.” 

“God,” you say, almost inappropriately endeared. She’s so pushy. It’s cute. “Okay.” 

She rattles off the address, lets you type it into your phone. “That’s Miyeon’s place,” she explains, nods towards the blonde - “Fairy princess Barbie with the boyfriend, over there.” 

“Sure,” you say; the description’s so spot-on, but it also goes largely in one ear and out the other. “Hey, so-” 

You’re about to ask her for her number, but at that moment the blonde girl - Miyeon - turns and spots the both of you together, and her jaw drops. Yeah, Yuqi looks thoroughly fucked and she’s wearing it wonderfully; you’re probably not much better off. “Song Yuqi.” 

“That’s my name,” says Yuqi, dryly, and then Miyeon’s tugging her towards the entrance. 

You sigh, you let it go. It’s for the best, probably; you should get back to work, be responsible. You’ll see her next weekend, anyway. You’ll be inevitable. 

By the door, Miyeon’s incredulous, talking loud and completely enthused. “You had sex with a stranger in a dirty club bathroom?” she’s saying to Yuqi. “Who are you, me?” 

“You didn’t fuck a stranger, Miyeon. You fucked your teacher.” 

“And look how well that turned out.”

Oh, it’s none of your business, it’s Club Cosmic; it’s not the place for a moral compass. Besides, you’ve got all your own problems: Yuqi’s pink hair catches the light, falls to shadow. You’ll have bruises, wounds to clean. You’ll play games: power, control, battle strategy. It’ll be a train wreck waiting to happen.

You smile at Yuqi’s retreating form, and think you'll take whatever she throws at you - it's only fair, because you'll give it right back.

-

Look, it’s not like she’s the only thing you think about: you’ve got responsibilities, obligations. But you let your mind wander and she’s there, straight out of all your dirtiest dreams. You’re thinking it’s a one-in-a-million encounter, a once-in-a-lifetime girl - you already know you’re in deep, in regards to sex and otherwise. You’ll have your hands full with Yuqi. There’s a week to wait for the party, and the whole time you’re on the verge of a one-track mind. 

And then suddenly it’s Saturday, and - well, you know what they say about best-laid plans. 

-

You’re a party person, but only sometimes. You’re used to low-key things, college dorms and cheap beer. You’ve got friends with sketchy standards, you’ve got a bartending job in a burlesque club - you’re not sure what you were expecting when Yuqi invited you to a party, but-

So, the apartment’s huge. Like, okay, you already forgot whose party this is - it’s been a week, and that’s too long - but whoever it is, their family probably comes from blood money. It’s cool, it’s intimidating. It also means you can’t find anyone: not even Yuqi, not even if you tried. 

You make yourself busy in the meantime. The party’s packed, so you do end up running into people you know, eventually: there’s Lisa, the rookie choreographer at Club Cosmic. She’s your age, she’s there with that blonde chick she’s always with - Chaeyoung - and Chaeyoung’s boyfriend, who’s breaking up with her constantly, or something. Campus drama; you try not to get involved. They’re all drunk and hysterically funny, and you get distracted easily. 

“So, Club Cosmic, huh?” Chaeyoung’s boyfriend is saying to you. He’s always struck you as a bit of an asshole, but mostly in a harmless way. He pats Chaeyoung’s waist. “Rosie would never let me work in a place like that,” he tacks on, eyebrows raising emphatically. “All that temptation.”

“What?” splutters Chaeyoung. 

“Uh,” you say - you’re not getting into it. Plus, it’s occurred to you that Chaeyoung’s boyfriend pushes her buttons on purpose - and after Yuqi, you’re sort of seeing all the appeal of that kind of dynamic. 

Lisa, somehow, has gotten way more wasted than the other two, and you, amazingly, have barely even touched a drink. “Who’re you looking for?” Lisa asks, then presses a hand to her temple. “I’m slurring. I can feel it.”

She is, but it’s not the point. “Yuqi,” you say. “Pink hair? From the band last Saturday?” 

Lisa snaps her fingers, then keeps snapping, finds the beat of the background music like it’s nothing. “Right. Oh, oh!” Her attention darts to someone behind you, and suddenly she’s gesturing wildly at them. “Then - okay, you know Minnie, right? You must. You have to. Minnie!” 

You frown; the name doesn’t ring a bell. “Does she work at the club?”

“What? No. She’s - hey, Minnie!” 

“Oh, my god.” The exasperation is startlingly close to you: right over your shoulder, voice silk and velvet and sultrier things. “I’m right here, bitch. You don’t need to scream my name.” 

“Minnie,” says Lisa, again, like being blind drunk has started to affect her general comprehension. Er - okay, that’s probably the goal. “You two know each other, right? Minnie, you’ve met-” 

It’s supposed to be an introduction, normal, perfunctory - you’re supposed to turn around, wave, smile; you’re good with strangers, you’re a bartender and it’s your job, for fuck’s sake - but the second you swivel and your eyes land on this girl, it’s like every social cue slips right out of your brain and falls straight to the floor.

“Holy shit,” you say.

“You too,” the girl says, rapid-fire, like it’s a sentiment she’s used to getting. 

“Uh-oh,” says Lisa; she’s not drunk enough to miss out on the sudden vibe, the instant implications. She is, however, drunk enough to unintentionally snap all the tension, or at least do a very good job at trying. “Oh, no. You think she’s hot.” 

“I am hot,” says the girl - Minnie. There’s a curl to her mouth. You’re gawking like an idiot and you can’t even bring yourself to care. 

“And you think he’s hot,” Lisa says to her, awed, giving the play-by-play. Chaeyoung’s got her face buried in her boyfriend’s shoulder - so, they’ve reconciled in two seconds flat - laughing half from sheer embarrassment. 

“I do,” agrees Minnie, before you can say anything. “What a coincidence."

You can’t help it; you’re stunned, you’re staring. It’s the eyes, more than anything: so preternaturally, absurdly beautiful, a sea-glass green too light and clear to be real. You’ll take it back; despite Lisa’s best efforts, there’s no way she’s breaking off this kind of tension. Minnie’s like something out of a comic, a cartoon, dreamt up by some passionate artist and brought to life gorgeously - it’s so fast, but it’s a party, and she’s the prettiest thing in the room, in any room. You can’t focus on anything but her. 

“Do you two know each other?” asks Lisa, bordering confusion. There’s a strange familiarity there, maybe: Minnie’s looking at you like she already knows everything you’ve thought about doing to her in the sixty seconds since you first saw her. “You do, right?” 

“No, we don’t.” You can’t tear your gaze off Minnie’s eyes, but when you do, now it’s everywhere - her long, slim legs, her sharp collarbone, her fingers, all capped with eye-catching hot pink acrylics - she’s in the shortest skirt, the tightest top. She’s like sex just standing there and her smirk suggests that she knows it. “But - I mean - it’s nice to meet you. You’re-” You’re tripping over all your words, losing your mind. “Jesus.” 

You’re not drunk, but you might as well be - there’s no way you’re thinking straight. Chaeyoung snorts and starts herding her boyfriend and Lisa away, giving you two the illusion of space; the party’s still full, and there’s no escaping it. Minnie tilts her head, eyes curving to half-moons, says, “Thanks. Hey, I think you’re pretty Jesus, too.” 

“Get a room,” calls Lisa, loudly.

So, there’s no reason this should be happening - it’s insane, and it’s so soon - but it’s a party, and everything’s dialed up, and Minnie’s so strikingly, unreasonably gorgeous you can’t recall anyone else’s name.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Minnie’s got a hand on her hip and she’s studying you like she can read your mind - well, you’d let her. It’s been two minutes and the only thing you’re thinking about is her. “Maybe we should do that, huh?” 

There’s practically zero pretense. She’s got a smile like she’s holding secrets, like she knows you’re just dying to unravel them all - she’s stupid hot, and it’s a party, and you’re helpless. That’s the beginning and the end of it all, or it should be. 

“Maybe,” you agree, and all your plans fall through in an instant. There’s really no other way it could go. 

-

Here’s the thing, about you and Minnie: façades drop fast. 

Minnie’s tall in her sky-high heels, eyes like she could kill a man, body dripping sex appeal like sin - for all intents and purposes, she should be exactly who Yuqi was to you, a week ago. A girl who you’ll fuck like you’re getting into fisticuffs. That’s obviously your type - you’ve had that revelation, now. You like getting marks almost as much as you like leaving them. 

Somehow you end up in a bedroom, get horribly distracted by conversation. She’s still impossibly hot, but there’s less seduction, suggestion. See, it occurs to you in record time, after you say something funny and she giggles out this ridiculous, stupid, hilarious laugh: she’s cute. That’s the thing sitting under all the allure, threaded through her laugh and her fast-talking energy: she’s fucking adorable.

“You’re cute,” you say, eventually, because you can’t help it. She’s sitting on the bed, attention flicking from you to the expensive-looking camera on the nightstand. The door’s locked, and you both know what you’re doing here. 

“Yeah,” says Minnie, smiling that slightly lopsided smile, a bit too wide to be properly coy. “Well, I think you’re cute, too.” 

“Is that why you dragged me into a bedroom within a minute of meeting me?” you prompt, standing at the footboard. Minnie’s platform heels are gone, now, and she’s got her slender legs tucked under her, skirt riding high on her thighs. “Because you think I’m cute?”

“That’s one reason.” 

“One?” 

“One of many.” 

You’re not a one-night stand guy, but this is your second in a week, or it’s about to be. It’s a fever dream, both moments: there’s a risk you’ve never taken, there’s a girl watching you like you fascinate her, inexplicably. If you looked in the mirror you’re not sure you’d recognize yourself - you don’t do this, you don’t. 

(You don’t do this, but you’re doing it - again.) 

“You’re hot,” Minnie says candidly, nails skimming over the camera on the nightstand. “And I like your smile. And your arms. And everyone at this party is so boring.” She tilts her head, examines you. There’s a shift to the room, the suggestion coming back full-force; she pulls the camera into her lap, and now you’re seated at the corner of the bed, fingertips brushing her bare knees. “And I like how the first thing you said when you saw me was holy shit.” 

“That can’t be an uncommon reaction,” you say. “I mean, you’re - you’re fucking gorgeous. Everybody must tell you that.” 

“Sure,” says Minnie. “But I guess I like it a lot better coming out of your mouth.” 

There’s something new at her lips, wicked; she passes you the camera a beat later. Her top pulls tight against her chest as she moves, her glossy black hair brushing just past her collarbone. “Hey,” she says, and stretches out, leisurely. There are her legs, her thighs, the elegant line of her neck - there’s too much to concentrate on, right in front of you. Minnie nods towards the camera. “Take my picture.” 

“What?” you say, startled. The camera feels heavy in your hands. You’re not sure how Minnie got the nerve to use some random person’s bedroom, take their belongings - you’re not sure if you should ask. “Really?” 

“Please?” Minnie asks, eyes beseeching, and - oh. 

That’s when it clicks in your head: she’s not like Yuqi at all. 

Forget the fronts, the forwardness, the sex appeal. Minnie’s not gonna fight back, or make demands. She’s gonna beg and plead and do exactly what you tell her to do. There’ll be no violent standoffs: she’s spread out on the bed, and she’s already surrendering. 

“Hmm,” you say - you’re slipping, you’re leaning into it. If she wants you in control then she’ll get it. “Give me something interesting to photograph, then.” 

Minnie raises an eyebrow coolly, but her teeth notch into her bottom lip, incriminating. “My face isn’t enough?” 

“I don’t think so.” It’s a lie - that face could sell magazines, fit perfectly on billboards. “You got anything else?” 

Minnie fixes you with a look, but it’s not really even a question: it’s an order, a test. You’re feeling out your boundaries, unfamiliar territory - and then her hands go to the hem of her skintight shirt and she’s peeling it overhead. Talk about magazines - you’ll find her in dirtier ones, fantasies, obscenities. Her bra’s lacy and black, hair mussed; she waits, lets you drink her in. 

“That’ll work,” you say, and that’s only the first picture. You know the very second you take it that there’ll be a lot, lot more. 

-

You kiss her and there’s a switch flipped, a bomb dropped - you mind the debris, leave goosebumps every time you touch any part of her - her throat, her tits, her toned midriff. “Look at you,” you say, and there’s something shifted in you, too: it’s your tone, it’s how she reacts to it. “So fuckin’ needy.” 

The camera’s forgotten on the nightstand; instead, you go for her bra, get it off, get it to the floor. Your eyes flick up to Minnie’s, and that’s a vision, her striking eyes spilled wide with expectation. She’s slender, breakable - you’re on top of her, and she’s already trembling - so you’ll start slow, first. This is all on your terms and she knows it. 

You dip, scrape your teeth across a nipple, and Minnie lets loose the prettiest whine. 

“It’s actually kind of incredible,” you say, conversationally, as your bottom lip drags down the defined line of her stomach, stops at the waistband of her tiny skirt. You’ve got a hand on each thigh, spreading them gently; you won’t be nice for long. “We just met, you know? You and me.” 

There’s a point here - you’ll make it as you unbutton her skirt, pull the zipper, drag it down her thighs. Minnie hasn’t said a word: you’re not sure she could, even if she tried. Then her skirt’s gone, and it’s all fair game - you hook a finger under the crotch of her panties just to find her soaked. 

“Oh,” you say, darkly - you’re testing your limits, testing the flimsy fabric of her underwear. “Here, see - we just met,” you say, and punctuate it by running your finger through the folds of her pussy, “and you’re already so fucking desperate for me that your slutty little cunt’s leaking all over my fingers.” 

Minnie inhales so sharply that it’s like she takes all the air out of the room, eyelashes fluttering: that’s your go-ahead. You let your grin tilt cruelly, and then you rip her panties right off of her. 

You know the fabric must bite into her hips by the mewling noise she makes, but it’s that same noise that gives it away - she loves it. Maybe it’s good that you’ve taken up a vice like this, these one-night stands - you know the tells and you know what to do with them. There’s a sick kind of power, standing above her like this, undoing your own zipper; Minnie’s almost salivating by now, lips parted, focus trained on your hands and what they’ll do, what they’re already doing-

You drop one hand around her throat just to wrap it in your fist, and in the same beat, you sink your cock straight into her pussy. 

It’s pornographic, how Minnie submits, how she dissolves, how she lets you fuck her right into the mattress, stuff her mouthwateringly tight cunt with your cock - “Oh my god,” she chokes out through your grip on her neck, your fingers so rough it’s likely you’ll leave bruises; there’s your thumb under the line of her jaw, nail pressing down-

“Fuck me, please - feels so good, fucking my pussy so good-” 

Minnie’s barely getting the words out, but she doesn’t even have to. See, her pleasure’s visible, and it’s everywhere: her hands half-curled to fists, her dazzling, tear-blurred eyes, her whines, her back curving to an archway. She’s so gorgeous getting fucked like this, and you should be thanking God that you even get the chance to feel a pussy this perfect - but you’re not. Instead-

Your hand lets up on her throat just to trap her face between your fingers, pressing hard. “Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, “stupid fucking slut - do you want people outside to hear you acting like a greedy fucking whore for some stranger’s cock? Want them to come running in and see you like this?” Your fingertips dig into her cheeks. “You don’t even know me, baby. You have no idea what the fuck I could do to you.” 

You’re really in it now: fucking her like there might be weapons on the table, guns readied, knives unsheathed. The door’s locked, you know that; oh, technicalities. It’s not like it really matters. The idea of it’s enough.

Your cruelty’s a killer. It gets some kind of perverse Pavlovian response from Minnie, something that gets her sobbing with her face in your hand - “I don’t care,” she’s saying, words garbled, slurring at each syllable: “Don’t care, just fuck me, fuck me, please - you’re right, I’m just a stupid slut, just use me, use my cunt-” 

Your hands have a motive and they’re leaving marks - she’s so tight, so unbelievably wet. You’re ruining her and you’ll prove it. 

“That’s my girl,” you say, and suddenly you land a smack across her cheek. It’s not as rough as you could be - you’re in dangerous territory, you’re toeing lines; there’s a lot more damage you could do - but Minnie yelps anyway, caught on a sob, stares up at you with tears beading her eyelashes, smudging mascara, eyeliner. One of her hands is around your wrist, acrylics leaving indents. “Yeah, yeah, you know what you are. Just a dirty little fuckhole-” There’s another slap, another strangled moan- “for me to use.”

It’s building and it’s building fast - there’s something about how mercilessly you’re fucking her pussy that makes Minnie squeal and shudder and clench tighter - and you know she’s about to cum, so you lean in to bite at her neck, collarbone, tits. You’re sinking your teeth in just to suck, soothe it with your tongue; it’s all about pain thresholds, and you’re pushing her past her limits-

It’s like you feel it before it happens, but then it happens. 

“Fucking cum for me,” you order, and then you pull your cock out of her - just as Minnie squirts all over you.

It all unravels, after that - you’re jerking your cock, cumming all over the perfect, flat plane of her midriff, all that pale skin glazed in white - and Minnie’s panting, whining, struck with the aftershocks. Your brain cuts off at the stem. You’re balking, open-mouthed. 

You have to understand, she’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen: Minnie, sprawled out in front of you, her pussy wrecked and raw, her stomach covered in your cum. You can’t help it. You grab her by the throat and drag her mouth to yours. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you exhale, and Minnie melts into your lap, becomes putty in your hands, licking, writhing - you can’t turn off the aggression. You’ve got her throat in your hand and your other slipping down to her chest just to smack hard at her tits, get her squealing. “That’s my dirty fucking slut. Squirting all over me - squirting just ‘cause you love my cock, huh? Just ‘cause you’re a whore for my cock?” 

Minnie’s whimpering through your grip on her neck, spine curving when your hand returns to her tits, pulling hard at her nipples. You’ve never, ever been so ruthless - you can’t even describe what it is about Minnie that gets this out of you. It’s her body, her needy, tear-filled eyes - that’s a girl that was made to be fucked hard.

“That’s it.” You move your hand from her neck to her cheeks, gripping her face in your hand. Minnie stares at you, green eyes glassy, baleful, drool falling from her open mouth, her lolling tongue. “There you go. Here, let me-” 

There’s that camera, on the nightstand. When you let Minnie’s face go, she tumbles out of your lap, falls back on the soaked sheets - she doesn’t even try to pose and it’s like it comes to her naturally, her legs tucked up to show her dripping cunt, the stain underneath her, her makeup a disaster - and that’s it, right there, something ready to frame and display-

You pull back, and you take the shot. 

-

(You’ve never, ever been so ruthless - except a week ago, scathing and sinister, fucking Yuqi in a public bathroom like you wanted to kill her. There’s something in that, a line to be drawn. It’ll come back around, in time.)

-

“So,” you say, after. “Do you usually make a habit of squirting all over random people’s beds?” 

Minnie’s recovering, letting you wipe the cum off her stomach with tissues - still, it’s all sort of a lost cause, considering her squirt covers everything. You honestly need a shower, and there’s an on-suite you’re thinking of using. You’re probably past party fouls at this point. 

Minnie’s staring at you, eyes narrowed strangely, lips parted - and it’s so cute you get momentarily distracted. “What?” you ask, tugging her towards you, your hands busying themselves fixing her bangs. “What’s that look?” 

Minnie tips her head, lets you adjust her in any way she wants; it’s completely natural, instinctual. “Who invited you to this party?” 

“What?” you ask, like you’ve forgotten all other words. 

Minnie pats the soaked sheets. It’s just then that you notice that there’s a color scheme going on: the bright pink of her acrylic nails, the pale pink of the bedding. “This is my apartment,” she says. “My room. My party. My…” She throws her hand towards the camera, and now she’s laughing her ridiculous, infectious laugh, and all of a sudden your own laughter’s pouring out and you can’t stop it. “How’d you even get here? Where’d you even come from?” 

Oh, well - now that makes a lot more sense. “One of my friends - so, it was, like, completely on a whim. I basically had no details before coming.” 

“Fate!” concludes Minnie almost instantly, clapping her hands, dropping all other lines of questioning. Clearly, she’s a girl after your own heart: her attention span’s basically nonexistent. “We were so meant to meet. And fuck.” 

“No, I agree,” you say, smiling, because she’s so adorable even when she’s not getting fucked into oblivion. So, this is about to be really bad for you. “We have… we’ve got, you know-” 

“Sexual chemistry.” 

“Absolutely.” 

That throws Minnie into another round of delighted giggles, and she’s got you frozen in place, grinning like an idiot. It’s those eyes, so intense until they soften, completely - she’s beyond beautiful. It’s a problem. “I bet our zodiac signs-” 

“Here we go.” 

“I’m so serious!” Minnie smacks your knee, over-the-top. “I bet we’re, like, cosmically intertwined. No one fucks me that good on the first hook-up.” She’s already reaching for her phone on the nightstand. “Come on, when were you born? No, I said I’m serious, I need to work this out-” 

You humor her, give her all the information she asks for. You can’t stop taking pictures of her, now that you know it’s her obnoxiously expensive camera - you’re not even close to being a good photographer, but she’s unbelievable in front of a lens, the eyes and the ruined makeup and the new hickeys spanning her neck, chest - and Minnie just grins, laughs, pays you no mind. 

“No, see,” she says, and she’s comparing your birth charts with half-assed sincerity; it’s become increasingly obvious that she knows as much about astrology as you do, which is basically nothing at all. “That’s it. That means our sexual desires - um - run parallel to each other, according to the stars, which means-” 

“You’re so full of shit.” 

Minnie wrinkles up her nose, gives you a dirty look. There’s a smile flickering at her mouth; that’s another photo, right there. Oh, you’re not sure you’ll be able to leave this room until you’ve got enough to fill a gallery - it’s a good thing that she doesn’t seem to be complaining.

-

You do actually end up taking a shower - it’s probably still some sort of party foul - but at least you’re not alone. When you’re done, Minnie’s working sweet-smelling leave-in conditioner into her damp hair, a towel wrapped around her - her makeup’s gone, and she’s still so gorgeous she belongs somewhere in MoMA - you leave it be. 

“I’ll get you a new shirt,” she says. “I mean - least I could do. My roommate’s boyfriend leaves stuff here all the time, so I can just run over to her room and grab you something-” 

“Oh,” you say, kind of alarmed. “That’s - um, so that’s-” 

Minnie waves you off. “He won’t care,” she says. “Like, not to rub it in, or whatever, but he’s let guys I’ve fucked borrow his clothes before. We have an arrangement. He’s just cool like that.”

“If you say so.” Her blatant unselfconsciousness reads as charming, somehow. There’s still a party going on outside - Minnie actually got to take off her clothes before you fucked her, so her outfit’s fully salvagable. Well, except the panties, obviously. 

“You think I would’ve let you rip my underwear if I didn’t have, like, fifty other pairs readily available?” Minnie’s shimmying a new pair of panties up her thighs.

“Yes,” you say, bemused. “You would’ve let me do whatever I wanted to you.”

“Ugh,” says Minnie, eyes feline and luminous, mirth catching at her lips like a wick to a flame. “You’re so…” 

“So Jesus, I know. I’ve been told.”

She leaves, comes back eventually, with the shirt, hair still damp and smile still remarkable, radiant. You exchange numbers, and you press her up against the door before you leave, kiss her until you take all the air from her lungs. 

“See you around,” says Minnie, pupils blown, panting. “Seriously, get out of here before we end up fucking again. I don’t know if you realized, but I’m kind of having a party right now.” 

“Send me copies of those photos I took,” you say, and pat her hip before you leave. 

-

(She and Yuqi are nothing alike, not in the slightest, but that’s the thing that makes you realize it: limiting yourself to one type is so fucking stifling.) 

-

You’re ready to go, but first - naturally, accidentally - you run into the blonde from Yuqi’s band, Miyeon, and her ridiculously tall, very mature boyfriend. Her teacher, allegedly: okay, it’s none of your business, but the logistics seem sort of sketchy. You’ll have to get the details at some point.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” says Miyeon’s boyfriend; he’s got a half-smile on like he and Miyeon have a private joke that you’re not in on. 

“Hi,” says Miyeon, obviously a little drunk. “Uh, nice shirt.” 

“Thanks.” 

Her dark eyes, attentive even while intoxicated, flick behind you, where Minnie’s probably standing in the doorway of her room. “Oh,” Miyeon says, fine eyebrows raising. “Oh. Well, that makes sense. Don’t worry,” she adds, leans in like she’s sharing a secret. “I won’t tell Yuqi.” 

“What?” you say, sort of flustered. “Will Yuqi care that I hooked up with some other girl?” 

Miyeon and her boyfriend exchange a brief, coded glance. “Some other girl,” repeats Miyeon, slowly, studying you oddly. “You are talking about Minnie, right?” 

“Yeah, but I mean - like, another stranger.” 

There’s another glance between them that you can’t even begin to decipher. “No,” says Miyeon, eventually, and suddenly her entire demeanor’s shifted, enthusiastic out of nowhere. “Not at all!” she repeats, chirpier. “She’s not gonna care. Why would she? Like you said - Minnie’s a stranger. Yuqi won’t mind.” 

“Miyeon,” says her boyfriend. 

“She won’t!” Miyeon nods cheerfully, reassuringly. “She’s totally - you know, totally chill. She doesn’t even - yeah.” Her boyfriend’s nudging her arm, wrapping her hand in his; well, you think it’s cute that they’re so affectionate. “Anyway. Have a good night!”

(In retrospect, Miyeon’s tipsy, and it’s certainly not the most subtle she’s ever been. In retrospect, you just had amazing sex, and it’s not the smartest or most perceptive you’ve ever been, either - ah, well. Call it a combined effort, her fucking with you like this.) 

“Have a good night,” you reply, and you let it go. You’re sure it’ll come back around soon enough. 

-

It doesn’t, for a bit. It all carries on. 

You realize that you missed out on seeing Yuqi again at the party, but there’s Minnie’s texts coming in on your phone, semi-frequently - she has this habit of taking hours to respond, but when she does, it’s twenty texts all in a row, ranting about something either hilariously stupid or genuinely thoughtful; she loves photography (apparently the expensive camera wasn’t just for show), she loves music. It’s fun, it’s light. You’re very easily distracted and this is no exception. 

But then it’s a Friday and you’re in the middle of a shift at Club Cosmic, making small talk with some of the performers between numbers. Bona’s still trying to seduce that investor, but they haven’t come around in so long, she tells you. 

“Maybe I should give it up,” Bona’s saying, sipping on something fruity, barely alcoholic - the manager doesn’t like the performers to go on drunk. “Maybe your girl-” 

“My girl,” you echo, entertained by the prospect - you already know who she’s talking about. 

Bona fixes you with a look, catching the tone. “Yeah,” she says. “All I’m saying is that maybe she was right.” 

“I usually am.” 

It’s as if on cue, or something close to it - there’s a score leading in, there’s a camera, focusing - and suddenly Yuqi’s plopping herself down on the barstool next to Bona, perfectly nonchalant.

“Speak of the devil,” you say, and you mean it.

It just so happens that the devil in question has half of her pale pink hair tied up in a silky black ribbon, so gorgeous it’s heart-stopping, disarming. Too sweet-faced to be so evil, to have all that power right at her fingertips - it’s all about contradictions, with demons; that’s how they reel you in. Yuqi cocks her head, lets her wavy hair waterfall over a slender shoulder; it’s like she’s taken all the light out of the room, leaving the glint of her deep-space eyes and nothing else. 

There’s all that instant danger in it: you’re on the edge of a black hole, a void. “I didn’t see you at the party last week,” you say. “Find a better offer?” 

Yuqi shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“But here you are,” you prompt - you’re waiting for it. “Visiting me at work.” 

“Tone down the ego,” says Yuqi, and smiles over at Bona. “I’m just here for the pretty girls.” 

Bona’s already faintly flustered, blushing. There’s something so addicting about getting Yuqi’s attention, and it’s something you’ve already become aware of, maybe even since the first second the two of you ever met - she looks at you and it’s always with a risk, a sharp-shooting focus - and you already know what’s happening here. 

“Um,” you say, mouth dry; you can only keep up a casual rapport for so long, with Yuqi right here, and looking like that. “I’ll - you know what, let me get someone to cover for me.”

“Dear god,” says Bona, as if she doesn’t understand entirely where you’re coming from. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your job for me,” says Yuqi. She’s going for demure, but the smirk on her mouth gives her away - her lips are blood-red, a preview, a prequel. “I can wait. Patience is a virtue, or whatever.” 

“Bullshit,” you say, bluntly, and Bona actually chokes on her drink. “You don’t have any patience.” You nudge your coworker, call her over - “Hey, Sojung, can you-”

“Right,” says Sojung, spotting Yuqi and her grin and every inch of her perfect face, her neck, her collarbone. She gets it like it’s scrawled across the bartop; it might as well be. “Yeah, yeah. You totally owe me, though.”

“Sure,” you say, on edge, obvious, and Yuqi’s brilliant laugh unfurls like she knows she’s got a claim to stake. 

It all moves fast, after that - you’re following Yuqi out to her car, and you’re incapable of doing anything more than that, for the time being; she’s in an enticingly short skirt, and you can’t help it. You’ve got her pinned up against the driver’s side, her back hitting the door so hard it could bruise her spine - you’ve got your hands in her hair and her tongue in your mouth; there are angles to consider, possibilities. You’ve got her car and all that fair skin to mark up, every part of her flawless body curving into yours like she’s calling your name-

“Good choice,” says Yuqi, hot against your lips. “I hate waiting.” 

“Stop fucking talking,” you reply, and you’re right back where you started. 

-

You fuck her in the backseat of her car, and it’s filthy on principle - it’s cramped and she’s on top of you, riding your cock, hands on your chest, ducking so she won’t ram her head into the roof of the car. Yuqi’s hair is all over you, and that’s the succubus in her, or it would be: she’s all-consuming, suffocating. She fucks you like you might not make it out alive, fills the car with the heady scent of sex, sweat, salt. 

“I’m gonna cum inside you." You’ve got red handprints scattered across her ass; she knows you’re not asking permission. She’d let it go on its own, probably, but you’ve always got to take it a beat too far - “Gonna fill your dirty little cunt with my cum, make you walk out of here all fucked out and used and filled like a common fucking whore-” 

Yuqi slaps you - actually, fully slaps you, the clap of her hand across your cheek shockingly loud. You smirk up at her, all your teeth. It doesn’t matter if she likes it or not; you’re about to make good on every single threat. 

“You know,” you say, after. Yuqi’s trying to find wherever you threw her panties, trying to keep your semen from leaking out of her pussy onto her backseat - she’s failing on both counts. “I think we’d make it out of fucking with way less wounds if you’d just admit that it makes you wet when I degrade you.”

“Oh, baby.” Yuqi eyes you, smiling, then reaches behind you to fish out her panties from where they’d been trapped between your back and the door. She’s so close - cheeks flushed, lips slick, pink on pink on pink - it’s like some higher power made her with an aesthetic in mind, hand-crafted with a purpose. “I’m not trying to hide that. Just like you’re not trying to hide that you like it when you come out of sex with some wounds.” 

She’s making fun of your word choice. “So do you,” you counter mildly. 

Yuqi cards a hand through her hair - she’s lost her ribbon, somewhere, back when you yanked it out, made her yelp with the sting. She tucks her knees under her, observes what a mess you must be in return: your mussed hair, your red cheek, the new welts from her nails across your skin, dangerously close to your jugular. 

“Like I said,” she tells you, her grin a forest fire waiting to devour. “Not trying to hide it.” 

-

You walk it back, take steps you should’ve taken the first day you met. You’re trading numbers, talking in circles: you’re a bit hung up on the fact that Yuqi made it a point to visit your job just to find you. It’s both insanely flattering and kind of hilarious. 

“Like, what’d you do?” you ask, as she puts her number into your phone. You’re outside her car, you’ll have to get back to work eventually - her windows are rolled down, airing it out. “Just come to Club Cosmic every night on the off chance that I might be bartending then?” 

You’re joking, but Yuqi takes too long to respond, eyes studiously trained on your phone. It’s a dead giveaway. 

“Really?” You stop, stare, enchanted by the information. Okay, it’s flattering, it’s hilarious - it’s also completely fucking adorable. “Yuqi.” 

“Shut up,” says Yuqi. She’s not embarrassed, exactly - you’ve yet to see if that’s an emotion she has the capacity to feel - but when she looks up at you, you can tell by the new tint to her cheeks that it’s something close. “Don’t say my name like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Ugh,” says Yuqi, and doesn’t bother giving you a direct answer. “And I didn’t come every day, you idiot. I came once earlier in the week and ran into Bona, so I asked her when your next shift was.” 

She’s pressed to your side, tiny next to you; she hands you back your phone, then gets distracted with the cuff of your sleeve, fiddling with the button. “Once?” you prompt, unable to tear your gaze off of her. 

Yuqi rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft defense to it, caught. “Fine - twice,” she amends, “but only because I got - I got sidetracked, the first time. That’s it. It’s just - not a lot of people can fuck me how you fuck me. And I meant what I said, when we first met.” She shrugs, like she never says things she doesn't mean. “I think you’re cool.” 

Yuqi’s thing is all blunt honesty, but it’s here, too, without the impact, landing light and too fond for how little time you’ve truly spent with each other. You’re helpless to do anything but watch her for a second, how her gaze flicks to yours and then up to the stars, the moon. 

“You’re cute,” you say, and kiss the top of her head. 

“I’m cool,” Yuqi insists - it’s all about keeping it mutual. 

“Sure, sure.” You settle your hand low on her back, slip your pinky under the waistband of her skirt; it’s not specifically suggestive, but you feel this need to touch her, so you’ll touch her. You’re teasing, so you’ll soften the blow. “You’re everything. You’re greater than God, baby.” 

Yuqi’s eyes match the sky, reflect constellations like she’s got some celestial ownership to them. “You’re so fucking annoying,” she says, “but damn right I am.” 

-

“Hey,” you say to Bona, afterwards. “Thanks for breaking our professional code of conduct and telling Yuqi when my shifts are. If I ever get a stalker, I’m glad you have my back.” 

“No problem,” says Bona drolly, her silk robe tied loose around her waist, only half-covering the intricate lingerie she’s got on. “Any time. Hey, I would’ve broken our professional code of conduct sooner-” 

“Oh, thanks so much-” 

“But the other time she came here she brought her really hot friend, and I thought it’d be rude to interrupt.” 

There’s an emphasis there, on friend - you’re slow on the uptake, sometimes, but this is one thing you don’t miss. “Yuqi brought someone here?” 

“Yeah, and she was fucking gorgeous - like, unbelievable.” Bona shakes her head. “They were all over each other. I was honestly kind of surprised Yuqi still remembered that you existed, after all that.” 

You’re not really sure what to make of that, so you don’t really make anything of it. You and Yuqi have only fucked twice - sure, there’s the exchanging numbers, there’s the promise of more - but you’re not expecting you two to be exclusive, for obvious reasons-

Your phone pings, and that’s the first one, blinking right up at you from the screen. 

hiii, Minnie’s texted, and she never settles with just one message.  youre working tonight right???? come over after youre done with your shift? i miss your cock and you i GUESS…  but mostly your cock

You’d be a raging hypocrite if you were upset about Yuqi hooking up with someone else, so you won’t be. Harmless fun - that’s all. You’ll keep your affairs in order and she’ll keep hers. No exclusivity, no drama: that’s what you signed up for and that’s what you’ll get.

“Uh,” says Bona, and when you look up, she’s raising an eyebrow pointedly. “Hot date?”

Another text: a photo this time. You open it, and - oh. 

“It’s not like Yuqi and I are exclusive,” you say, grinning, clicking your phone off. You won’t deny it: this whole thing’s incredible for your ego. “She can fuck around with whoever she wants and so can I. We’re just - you know. Fuckbuddies. That’s all. It’s not serious.” 

“Huh,” says Bona, not buying it, but she lets it go. For the best, probably: it doesn’t matter if anyone else understands this, because you’re the only one who really needs to. 

-

You’re wiped by the time your shift ends, bone-tired by the time you make it over to Minnie’s. “Hey, you,” she says, when she opens the door; her eyes are dark for once, and somehow just as captivating. “Oh, seriously - you’re barely even awake. Why’d you even come over?”

“You sent me a picture of my cum all over your stomach,” you say, and Minnie cracks up. “Coming over is, like, common courtesy.” 

You’re so sleepy you’re not even sure the words are coming out right. Minnie ends up ushering you into the apartment, anyway; her hair’s tied back in two low pigtails, secured with white ribbons, her shirt tight and her shorts pink, so tiny they’re showing off all of her irresistible thighs. She’s so fuckable - but you’re so exhausted. Minnie’s amused and rueful all at once: “You could’ve said no!” she tells you, insistent. “It’s not like you can even fuck me like this.” 

“That sounds like a challenge,” you say, but you break into a yawn immediately after. 

“Babe,” says Minnie, endeared. “You’re fucking adorable, but don’t even try.” 

Somehow, this leads into you showering in Minnie’s bathroom - again  - and then it’s mutually agreed upon that you should probably just stay over, because if you try to drive back in this state you’ll definitely end up crashing your car. It’s all logic, really. It’ll be a facet of the fuckbuddy arrangement, so to hell with it - you’ll spend the night in her bed.

It’s all unmasked in the morning, anyway. You wake up to Minnie on top of you, her cunt hotly choking your cock, and there’s not a fucking chance you’re gonna make apologies for getting so comfortable so fast when it leads to all this in the daylight. 

“Oh, fuck-"

Minnie’s on top, but she’s already relinquished every bit of power the moment your eyes snapped open. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t ride your cock like it might’ve been something she was trained to do - there’s the hypnotizing roll of her hips, her flat stomach - that’s something that needs to be immortalized in film one day, but for now-

“That’s my fucking cockslut.” You’ve got your fingertips digging bruises into the dip of her waist, pressing tight to her ribs. “Couldn’t even wait for me to wake up - you just had to have my cock inside your needy little pussy. Couldn’t resist, huh?” 

It’s not even a question: no, she can’t, and she never, ever could. 

“Good morning to you too,” you tell Minnie afterwards, with her hair balled up in your fist and squirt covering your stomach - you’ll have to take another shower, but at least she’ll be right there with you. “Fuck, Minnie. Is it bad to say I could get used to that?” 

Minnie hums, spent - she tries to get out of bed and wobbles on unsteady legs. “Nope,” she says, voice raspy with sleep and sex, and you grab her wrist to balance her. Your cum’s dripping down her thigh. “I think we’ve established by now that I don’t mind taking orders.” She shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever said, her dark eyes gorgeous, genuine. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You’re my fucking dream girl,” you say, grinning, and Minnie throws her head back and laughs. 

-

Oh, you’re kind of a fan of monogamy, historically. You don’t do one-night stands, or two, or four - you’re racking up numbers with both Yuqi and Minnie and there’s no point in keeping count. You don’t do the friends-with-benefits thing. It’s never appealed to you. Except-

“Tell you what: if you somehow manage to finish this puzzle in the next five minutes, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock to completion.” 

“To completion?” You’re on Yuqi’s couch - she has two roommates and every video game console in existence, apparently. You’re playing this horror game that’s way too puzzle-heavy to actually be scary, but your eyes are glued to the screen and Yuqi’s tucked close to your side; you’ll be alright with it. “As opposed to what?” 

“I don’t know, stopping halfway through? Giving you blue balls? Dude, I’m just trying to motivate you.” 

See, you’re better at video games than she is, in general, but she’s smarter than you, intuitive - when you’re playing convoluted single-player games like this, you always play them together. You make a good team, or something. You don’t do the friends-with-benefits thing, usually, but you’re doing it now - and there’s honestly more emphasis on the friends part of it than you’d originally bargained for. Well, Yuqi’s gorgeous, and hilarious, and gives just as good as she gets. You can’t say that’s something you’re complaining about. 

You’re carving out routines, here. Friends-with-benefits is turning out to be something of a major time commitment, especially when-

“Minnie, I gotta be honest: public sex is off the table forever. You’re just gonna squirt everywhere and then we’re both gonna be royally fucked.”

There’s only one thing Minnie likes more than sex, and it’s spending money: that’s something you learn fast. Another thing is that she has more money than she knows what to do with, apparently - wild, considering she’s an unemployed college student, but you’ve seen her apartment; it’s not that much of a surprise. My family’s comfortable, she tells you once, humorous with an understatement. You know, they’re well-off. 

They’re filthy rich, you’d interpreted, and the smile you got was all the confirmation you really needed. 

It only leads to more routines, in the end: she takes you out shopping with her just to offer to buy you anything you pay even a modicum of attention to. She’s spoiled, but she loves to spoil. It’s cute and you won’t deny it. 

“Forever?” Minnie’s got shopping bags lining her thin arms, and you’re carrying more for her - call that a built-in workout. She turns her eyes on you, wide and pleading. “Forever’s a long time.” 

“Cut it out,” you say, and she bursts out laughing. “Jesus, I hate it when you do that.” 

You’re lying and she knows it. “Do what?” 

“You know what I mean. The thing with your eyes.”

Minnie bats her eyelashes, lets all the submissive sweetness fade from her expression. She knows what characters to play and when. “It’s not my fault you find me irresistible,” she says, and you laugh with her because she’s right. 

Ah, it’s a problem with both of them, sort of: you might be doing this whole friends-with-benefits thing wrong. It’s too fun, being with them. It’s supposed to be all cool and casual, but it’s possible that you’re getting attached. One minute you’re fucking strangers and the next they’re both your friends. 

It’s a bad idea, considering you know both Yuqi and Minnie are fucking around with more people than just you: there’s that thing Bona said about Yuqi bringing someone to the club, and then there’s the fact that Minnie’s always marked up - the telltale scratches of nail marks down her back, thighs; hickeys, bruises. A lot of them are from you, but there are also a good amount that aren’t.

“I’m fucking a demon,” Minnie sighs, when you ask her about it, and for once she’s not talking about you. “Takes up a lot of my time.” She presses her thumb into a particularly nasty hickey right at her inner thigh, smirks, says, “Believe me, it’s nothing that I wasn’t begging for.”

It should be a mistake, crossing lines - but you’re having a great time. You won’t look a gift horse in the mouth; you’re happy right where you are. You won’t complicate it. You’ll take them as long as they’ll have you. 

(This is what you’re thinking about, so in hindsight, maybe it makes sense that you miss all the signs.) 

-

It’s probably only a month and a half in, or a little longer. There’s this mutual obsession going on, with you and Yuqi, with you and Minnie - your phone’s always blowing up, you’re always, always busy. Your coworkers tease you for it and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’re moving fast and it’s exactly your speed. 

i’m coming over, you text Minnie - you’d agreed to after both your classes had finished. It’s late afternoon, and yesterday you’d accidentally spent half the day playing some gory new horror release with Yuqi. Minnie’d left you rambly voicemails, like she’s in the habit of doing, and you’d responded in kind. You two are so often on the same wavelength, guessing at moves before they’re made. 

So, so often - but not today. You’re about to knock on her front door, but then you realize it’s already unlocked. 

“Minnie,” you call. You let yourself in; you’ve done it before. “You really need to stop leaving your door unlocked.” You shut it behind you, round the corner - “Seriously, babe,” you’re saying, making your way into the kitchen, “one of these days someone’s just gonna-” 

You stop short. 

Because Minnie’s here, but she’s got her eyes screwed shut, and she’s bent over the kitchen counter, moaning, writhing - a mess, hair a wreck like it’s been tugged at, a series of hickeys so raw on her collarbone they look like actual bite marks, like there might’ve been blood drawn - and she’s getting absolutely, completely railed from behind by-

“Yuqi?” you sputter. 

Yuqi’s got her hand wrapped around Minnie’s neck, her fingers tight around the column of her throat - she’s so in it, and there’s that look on her face, that vicious way she fucks when she’s fucking you, all over her here, now - and then she looks up, and her dark eyes find yours. 

“Oh, fuck,” she says, and pulls her strap-on right out of Minnie in one smooth, slick move. 

You’re staring, jaw halfway to the floor. Yuqi’s so thrown she keeps blinking hard at you, like she has no idea what in God’s name you’re doing here right now; the feeling’s mutual, because nothing about this makes sense, not even a little bit - Yuqi and Minnie - Minnie and Yuqi, together-

“What the fuck,” pants Minnie - she hasn’t noticed you yet, somehow. She’s whining, distraught, clinging to the lip of the countertop for dear life. “What the fuck, Yuqi - put it back in.” She reaches blindly behind her, her perky tits bouncing, sweat beading along the curve of her back. “Yuqi, Yuqi-” 

“Sweetheart,” says Yuqi, and clamps her hand down on Minnie’s shoulder with the sort of firm, authoritative familiarity that indicates she’s beyond used to leaving marks on Minnie’s body. You recognize it immediately - you do the same thing. “I’m not gonna put my strap-on back in your ass. My fuckbuddy’s here.” 

Well, there’s a lot to unpack there - but first-

Your eyes zero in on Minnie’s freshly fucked asshole, just as Minnie turns her head and spots you standing there. 

“Oh, fuck,” she echoes, lost for words, for breath. Then: “Wait - your fuckbuddy?” 

You’re floored, you’re speechless, you can’t even reconcile it: this whole time the two of them have been occupying opposing corners of your mind, Yuqi hilarious and quick-witted with a bite, a brutality, Minnie with her hysterically funny laugh and her mile-a-minute way of speaking - in your head, they should never connect, they should never cross paths, they should never be here, with Yuqi bending Minnie over her kitchen counter and filling her ass with a strap-on-

“Let’s get some clothes on,” directs Yuqi, and it’s the first time she’s ever made a proposition like that in front of you. “Seems like we have a lot to work out.”

-

“Let me get this straight.”

You’re gathered on Minnie’s couch - Minnie’s in an oversized t-shirt, leaning on the side, consciously avoiding putting any weight on her ass. Yuqi’s got her hands spread out on Minnie’s coffee table like there’s a puzzle she’s putting together. “You first fucked Minnie at the party I invited you to-”

“You invited him?” Minnie asks, startled. “Well - I mean, thanks. I guess we never would have met if it wasn’t for you.” She shoots you a grin, impressively cheeky considering you just walked in on her getting her ass fucked; oh, that’s Minnie for you. When it comes to sex there’s no shame she feels, ever.

“Shut the fuck up,” says Yuqi, not unkindly. “No - what I’m saying-” She locks her gaze on you. “Is that you knew that I invited you to a party at Minnie’s apartment and you still didn’t realize she and I knew each other?” 

“Oh,” you say - okay, that’s your bad. “I guess not. To be fair, you didn’t tell me whose apartment it was-” 

“Yes, I did, you fucking dumbass. I even pointed at Miyeon, who was, like, a foot away from us-” 

“Oh,” you say, again: well, you completely forgot about that part. “Sorry. That’s - yeah, that’s on me. I just remembered that you said it was one of your bandmates, so when I met Minnie, I obviously didn’t think-” 

“Dude.” Yuqi has a hand pressed to her temple. “Minnie’s in my band.” 

Your mouth falls open. “Really?” 

So, it’s all unraveling pretty quickly: Minnie and Miyeon are roommates, which you probably could’ve put together if you’d mustered up an ounce of critical thinking, but - hey, you’ve been having incredible mind-blowing sex, lately; no one’s gonna blame you for that fogging up your brain. Minnie’s the flaky keyboardist that Yuqi complains about constantly, the one Miyeon was replacing the night they performed at Club Cosmic - it’s unraveling, but it’s all coming together. Minnie and Yuqi have been fucking since before you met either of them, apparently. It’s a whole thing, or at least that’s what they tell you. Lust at first sight, claims Minnie - clearly there's a story there, but they're not saying it yet.

“Maybe I’m stupid,” says Yuqi, staring from you to Minnie. “I knew Minnie was fucking someone else because she always had crazy bruises all over her every time I saw her, but she just told me she was having sex with a demon, so I just took that at face value, I guess.” 

“She told me she was having sex with a demon,” you say, in disbelief, and Minnie dissolves into her obnoxious, infectious laughter.

“You’re both stupid,” Yuqi decides, pointing an accusatory nail between the two of you, fingers flicking fast. “You’re both morons who only get away with having fucking worms for brains-”

“Jesus,” you say, biting back a smile, because she’s at her best when she’s dishing out insults. 

“-because you’re hot. That’s it.” Yuqi sighs, frustrated. “If you weren’t both so sexy you’d never get anywhere in life.” 

“Thanks,” chirps Minnie - if there’s one thing she knows how to do, it’s take a compliment. 

In the end, maybe it’s not so hard to understand: Minnie loves being bossed around, ordered and roughed up and fucked senseless. Yuqi’s just like you - it’s no wonder she’d love having Minnie like you love having her, whining and submissive, ready to get dragged through hell and back and beg for it. You've kept them separate; they've kept you separate. It's a comedy of errors you're not even sure qualifies as coincidence: you think of Minnie, the night you first met, saying fate with a grin like she knew something you didn't - maybe she's always had a point.

So, that’s where your conclusions land: “I think we can just keep doing what we’re doing,” says Yuqi, eventually, shrugging and rising to her feet. “I guess it shouldn’t really change anything. We can all just keep doing our own thing.” She says it like it doesn’t really faze her, and it’s Yuqi, so it probably doesn’t.

“Yeah,” you say, slowly, because it is happening to faze you - just not in the ways you’d expect. Minnie’s glancing between you and Yuqi like she’s trying to calculate all the combined marks you could leave on her; she’s thinking what you’re thinking, but she won’t say it out loud. “I guess so.” 

“Sick,” says Yuqi, in that hilariously flippant way of hers, and Minnie laughs so hard she accidentally rolls onto her clearly sore ass. “Well, see you later.” 

Minnie sobers up so quickly it’s almost comical. “Wait, what about-” 

“Baby,” says Yuqi, and there’s the sin creeping into her voice, flames flickering in her irises. She loves having the last word, so she’ll take it. “If you wanna still get your ass fucked, ask your other fuckbuddy. I’m sure he’d be happy to take care of you.” 

She smiles, too adorable for the filth coming out of her mouth, and leaves you and Minnie to it. 

-

Well, she would, except-

“Oh, hey,” says Miyeon, slipping into the living room. “I just passed Yuqi on my way in.” Her gaze lands on you, and she grins. “I guess you guys finally figured it out, huh?” 

“Are we dumb?” Minnie asks, genuinely. 

“Yeah,” says Miyeon, sweetly, blinking her Bambi eyes at the two of you like every Disney princess personified. “Both of you are stupid as shit. Don’t worry - you’re both pretty enough to make up for it.” 

She kisses the top of Minnie’s head as she passes, and that’s when you realize exactly how much Miyeon’s been fucking with you this whole time. These girls - and maybe both Yuqi and Miyeon are right, and there are dots you should’ve connected weeks back, days in.

Well, you’ll give yourself some leeway: you’re here now. Journeys, destinations, whatever the fucking cliché is - you’ll let everything slot right into place.

-

You all know where this is going, but it still takes a week and a half for it to happen, give or take. 

Look, you’re all returning to form - you’ve taken out space in your schedule for both Yuqi and Minnie, but it’s still pointedly separate; you know they’re doing the same. You’re still fucking Yuqi in every single public place imaginable, and you’re still making your mark on Minnie like she belongs to you, even though she’s got someone else bruising her neck like she’s trying to leave a collar. There’s a power play there, somewhere, between you and Yuqi: who can ruin Minnie more, who can push her to her breaking points. It’s almost like foreplay. It dials up your sex with Yuqi to something intense, something with sky-high stakes; you fuck like you might be playing for keeps. 

“Oh, hey,” says Yuqi, one day, trying to get a rise out of you. It’s a lost cause; she’s taken over for a video game you’re playing together, and her head’s on your shoulder. “Minnie just sent me a text.” 

“What?” There’s another reason the rise is unsuccessful: “She just sent me a text. A video, actually.” A video, and then an accompanying message: for your eyes only <3. 

“She sent me a video,” says Yuqi. “And she said it’s for my eyes only, so fuck off.” 

You wordlessly tip your phone screen towards Yuqi, and that’s the final straw: Yuqi laughs until her shoulders shake and she’s hiding her face in your collarbone, her pink hair tickling your neck. “Shit,” she says, and you can hear her grin in her voice: something you’ve learned is that no matter how much Yuqi teases Minnie, she’s also a little bit obsessed with her, too. “Let’s see what our girl wants, then.” 

“Our girl,” you mimic, loving it, and then you both press play. 

-

It just so happens that the video’s of Minnie pounding her own pussy with a dildo until she squirts wildly, and every sound is amplified, obscene - her sopping wet pussy, her moans, squeals, screams-

Neither of you are laughing now. “It’s the same video,” Yuqi says, voice suddenly low, husky: it’s a telltale sign, sirens beginning to wail. She looks up at you and you catch that look in her eye, like she’s on the verge of something violent, murderous. “Isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you say, throat dry - there’s nothing more you can say. 

“Well,” says Yuqi, and lets her phone clatter to the coffee table. There’s a tilt to her expression that’d send bystanders running for cover, if they could see her now. “Let’s show her that we can make a little video of our own.” 

-

There’s a group chat made just to send the video: you’re slipping, crossing the clear lines between the three of you. Oh, you’re past worrying about propriety - you’re sending a sex tape, sending Yuqi on her back and getting her pussy railed by your cock, the two of you fighting as much as you’re fucking - it’s brutal, and it’s hot. 

“Fuck,” says Yuqi, when she watches it back, pulling her clothes on again, mesmerized by how hard you’re fucking her, by how merciless it is - like you could’ve actually hurt her and you wouldn’t have cared. You’re caught on the threats she’s biting out, just as enthralled. “We should film ourselves more often.” 

“We should,” you agree - there are fantasies waiting to happen, erotica writing itself - and then you press send. 

-

LMFAOOOO, Minnie texts back, once she sees it. the iphone quality…. HAHAHA its even in portrait mode omfg im crying

wtf, you say; the quality looked great to you. 

i’m gonna beat the shit out of you, says Yuqi, somewhat inappropriately. don’t pretend like it didn’t make you wet

oh it def did, Minnie replies. you guys are unbelievably hot when you fuck. im stupid horny im not denying that im just saying…. if i ever make a sex tape im totally using one of my nice expensive cameras for it

i’m sure the 20 other people you’re regularly fucking would really appreciate that, says Yuqi. 

:( says Minnie. dont slut shame me its mean also you two are the only people im regularly fucking just for the record

Yuqi makes an odd, thoughtful sound, out loud, perched on the edge of her bed. 

“You’re thinking about it,” you say, knowing. 

“I’m not,” Yuqi says, but her bottom lip’s tucked between her teeth. “I keep my fuckbuddies very separate from each other. It’s transactional, or whatever.”

“Right,” you say, amused by her stubbornness. You’re a little too close for you two to convincingly be just strangers who’re hooking up, anymore. You’re too friendly, too comfortable with each other - that’s a hurdle you’ve already cleared. “Transactional. That’s why I’m sleeping over here tonight, right?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yuqi grumbles - and that’s how you know she doesn’t really have to be convinced. 

-

It’s inevitable, and you know it. It’s all that anticipation, stacking to skyscrapers. You’re over at Minnie’s place one day, and you’re drinking coffee at her kitchen counter, sharing some waffles Miyeon’s boyfriend made earlier - it’s all very domestic, kind of. Minnie’s studying you, carefully, her eyes startlingly green and watchful, like there’s a thread she’s tugging at and hard. 

“What’s up?” you ask.

“I’ve been thinking,” begins Minnie. 

“That’s new.” 

“Shh,” says Minnie, mildly, tapping her nails across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” she continues, “that it’s actually fucking ridiculous that you and I and Yuqi haven’t had a threesome yet.” 

“Oh,” you say - you’d be more shocked, but like you said, Minnie’s got no shame in regards to anything sexual; she likes what she likes and loudly. “I’ve been thinking that too. But Yuqi seems… you know. She’s really dragging this out.” 

“I’ve noticed,” agrees Minnie; she sees how inevitable this all is, too. “It’s crazy. She loves fucking you and she loves fucking me. It’s, like, basic logic.”

She’s gorgeous, she’s scheming: you see Minnie lick her lips, like she’s picturing Yuqi’s touch all over her - you’re thinking of the possessive way Yuqi wrapped her hand around Minnie’s neck when she was fucking her, imagining the way she’d bitten at Minnie’s collarbone - Minnie’s the single most fuckable girl you’ve ever met, and there’s Yuqi who exerts power during sex like she’s taking out her grudges, like she’s wielding weapons - just the concept of it is enough to drive you nuts-

“We can set it up,” you say, and you think Minnie can see your train of thought all over your face. “You and me and her.” 

There’s all this new territory to explore, maps to make and trails to mark. “We can,” says Minnie, tilting her head. There are oceans behind her eyes, seafoam and salt, wet and wild and fatal. “What’d you have in mind?”

-

You put your plan in motion a day later, because patience is a foreign concept when it comes to the three of you. “Call her,” you’re mumbling against Minnie’s mouth, her spine already curving to your fingertips. There’s an ambush happening, battle plans being drawn - you’re in Minnie’s living room, and you can’t keep your hands off of her. “Before we get too far.” 

“I texted her before you got here,” Minnie says, and you can feel her grin at your lips. “She’ll be here soon. Go as far as you want.”  

That’s a request with tempting parameters, so you’ll take it: a split second later and you’ve got Minnie pinned to the couch, her tiny waist in your hands, your teeth scraping across her neck. “I will,” you say, darkly, and you’re already in it. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.” 

“Please,” begs Minnie - she’s rapidly losing composure, but she’s always this easy, this wanton and ready. “Please.” 

You can’t deny a plea like that, so of course you get carried away: your fingers slip up the hem of her shirt, find her tits; she’s underneath you and then you’re switching to the top of her denim skirt, tugging at belt loops, finding the button and undoing it-

The front door slams. 

That’s your cue. You fall into it practically pre-rehearsed: you and Minnie dramatically break apart, you tumbling off of her, her catching her balance on the arm of the couch. “Oh!” gasps Minnie, wiping her mouth, spilling her eyes wide - they’re dark and sweet and guileless, today; she’s playing her parts perfectly. “Yuqi - oh my god, sorry, I-” 

Yuqi’s standing with her arms crossed, and maybe your efforts might’ve been in vain - you can tell by the look on her face that you’re already caught. 

“You guys think you’re so fucking slick, huh?” she says. 

Minnie rakes a hand through her hair, glances slyly over at you. “We’re not?” 

“No.” Yuqi’s advancing, distinctly predatory - her eyes are stuck on Minnie’s unbuttoned skirt, on your hands against Minnie’s lithe frame, like you might be minutes from ripping her apart. “You’re stupid, and obvious. If you wanted to seduce me, there are better ways to do it.” 

“You’re fucking both of us,” you point out. There’s that fire sparking in her eyes, and it’s already over: you know how she looks right before she gives in. “We don’t need to seduce you, Yuqi. You’re already obsessed with us.” 

“Obsessed is a strong word,” says Yuqi, flatly. 

She says it, but already her voice has gone gravelly, gained that razor-blade edge. She’s closer now, standing above the two of you sprawled on the couch: you see her fingertips drop, dig under the waistband of Minnie’s skirt, pressing into her hips. Minnie’s mouth has already fallen open, pupils blown - Yuqi’s barely done anything, and Minnie already looks like she’s seconds from begging to get on her knees-

“Bedroom,” Minnie says, climbing to a whine, rising on unsteady legs. Yuqi laughs; she clearly loves Minnie’s desperation just as much as you do. “Please. I have - there’s something - please.” 

Yuqi cuts her eyes across at you, takes Minnie’s face in her hand. There’s something so intoxicating about the height difference between them, how Yuqi stands just a little shorter than Minnie and she’s somehow still got her in the palm of her hand, wrapped right around her finger, or several-

“Use your words, gorgeous,” purrs Yuqi, and the way she talks to Minnie makes your head spin, sends a lump to your throat: like she’s so sure of her hold over Minnie, her complete and utter control. You’ve imagined it so many times since you first caught them together - it’s another thing entirely to see it in action. “You got us both here, yeah? We’re right where you want us.” 

She tugs on Minnie’s jaw - a demand, not a request - and then Minnie’s ducking her head to kiss her. 

It’s instantly sloppy, filthy - they both love it messy and you know that from experience, in every way, every context - and Yuqi’s slipping her tongue into Minnie’s mouth like she’s she’s seconds from ravaging her, and there’s the telltale glint of teeth, raring to annihilate-

Minnie gasps suddenly, pulls away quick. Her hand flies up to her bottom lip. You catch the mix of pain and exhilaration all at once - it’s barely started, and there’s already been blood drawn. 

“See?” Yuqi’s looking at you now, smirk pulling sharp like knifepoint. “Someone likes it when I bite.”

“You’re insane,” you say, but you’re standing, now, so caught up in it. You meet her match, blow for blow - Minnie just takes and takes and takes, loves it like she’d drop dead for it. Yuqi makes her bleed and you can see it all over Minnie’s face: she’s never been more turned on in her life, trapped between the two of you. “You’re the fucking devil.” 

“Sure,” says Yuqi, and clips Minnie on the hip, knuckles blunt. “C’mon,” she orders. “Talk to us.” 

“I have one of my cameras,” Minnie blurts out, thin and high and reedy. “In my room.”

“Oh,” says Yuqi, and raises an eyebrow at you. “That’s an idea.” 

It certainly is: it’s one that’s got you straining against your jeans, dropping you right into animal instinct - Yuqi’s similarly riled up, pulling at your wrist, at Minnie’s waist. She’s waited long enough. She never goes far without getting exactly what she wants. 

“Then let’s go,” she’s saying, and it’s not something up for debate; with Yuqi, it never is. “Let’s go.” 

-

There’s the three of you and all that build-up, all the weeks in the making; Minnie’s already half out of her mind, sprawled on the bed like she knows you and Yuqi are about to fuck her within an inch of her life. There’s a strap-on on the nightstand. You’ve got a lightweight camera in your hands and it’s filming.

“Does this camera have, like, a microphone on it?” you ask, somewhat clueless. 

Yuqi snorts, rolls her eyes - it alleviates the moment, but barely. “Don’t worry about it,” says Minnie, hands twitching, eyes flicking from you to Yuqi like she doesn’t know who to start begging for first.

“Nuh-uh,” Yuqi tuts, noticing - she’s so impressively attuned to Minnie’s every move, picking up on giveaways like it’s nothing. You recognize it: she’s the same with you, knowing right when to bite and snap and apply pressure. “You can be patient. You’re the one who was desperate enough to trick me into coming here.” 

“No,” says Minnie, and points to you. “I promise you it was totally a team effort."

“Watch it,” you say, tamping down laughter - it’s really not the time. 

“Yeah,” agrees Yuqi. “I fucking hate snitches.”

Minnie's infectious giggles fill the room, and you’re seconds away from joining her - but all of a sudden, Yuqi’s shoving Minnie’s shoulder, pushing her farther down the bed. “Like I was saying,” she says, and suddenly her fingers curl around your wrist, “you’re the desperate one here, Minnie. I think we’ll make you wait. Plus,” she adds, to you, and all of a sudden she’s facing you fully - the two of you are standing, and Yuqi’s back is to the footboard of Minnie’s bed, her eyes with a challenge. “She likes to watch.” 

“I could’ve guessed that,” you say, and slip Minnie the camera. “She’s always struck me as the voyeuristic type.”

Yuqi’s lips are wickedly red, curled at a corner. “I’m shocked you know what that word means.”

“Okay,” you snap, and you’re in it now, finding your ground - your hand flies to Yuqi’s hair, wraps it around your fist and tugs. Yuqi lets out a sharp noise, somewhere halfway between a yelp and a moan; you hear her breathing start to pick up, the rise and fall of her chest. “I get that you don’t want to seem weak in front of your little pet here-” You jerk Yuqi’s head towards where Minnie’s curled up on the bed, jaw dropped, still and staring- “but that doesn’t mean you can take up an attitude with me, darling.” Your thumb snags at the side of her mouth, scrapes her chin. “So cool it.” 

“It’s so fucking funny that you think I take orders from you.” 

There’s a time to use words and then there’s a time for force, time to prove how much bigger than Yuqi you actually are - you let your hand drop from her hair and start to go for her face, find a way to manually shut her up - but she gets there first, digs her nails into your forearm and claws-

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you hiss, skin stinging - she’s pushing you farther than normal, she’s putting on a performance. Well, you won’t mind putting one on too. 

In seconds you’ve got her twisted around, one elbow knocking against the footboard - and then your hand’s at her ass and you’re spanking, groping. She’s still got her shorts on, panties, but that doesn’t stop you in the slightest; Yuqi’s squirming underneath you, snapping out vulgarities-

“Get the fuck off me,” she snarls, and you won’t, and you hear Minnie’s uneven, stuttered inhalations from her spot on the bed. She’s probably never seen Yuqi like this - never seen her smacked around and helpless. You know firsthand how addicting it is - Yuqi, with her arrogance, being pushed and put in her place-

All of a sudden, Yuqi’s foot knocks right into your knee, hard, and that’s how she worms her way right out of your arms.  

“Fuck me or leave me the fuck alone,” she warns, voice low, dangerous. Her tiny hands are going for your cock, unzipping your pants and dragging them down - you help her along, drunk on the ruthless look in her eye. “I’m not some dumb whore that’ll just let you shove her around. You know that.” 

“I’ll give you that,” you acquiesce, and you’re peeling off her shorts, she’s slipping off her top - she’s not wearing a bra, and her tits bounce, nipples hardening in the air. “I’ve already got one dumb whore that’ll let me do whatever she wants to her.” 

You turn, and you look right at Minnie. 

She’s trembling, the camera in her hands and fixed on the two of you - she’s already such a mess, cheeks flushed and every intake of breath fleeting, unsteady - she hasn’t touched herself, not once. She’s being so good, waiting for orders. She’s fucked you and Yuqi long enough, by now - you two may rough up each other, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ll do to Minnie if she misbehaves. Her eyes are wide, saliva collecting at her mouth; she’s so ready to be fucked, owned, ruined. 

Your gaze darts to the camera lens, and you smile. 

“Baby,” you say, and there’s a go-ahead she’s been waiting for. “Get undressed.” 

Minnie moves quick, frantic - she passes the camera from hand to hand, slips out of her skirt, her tank top - you’ve snuck your fingers into Yuqi’s panties, stroking her drooling pussy; so, looks like someone likes having an audience. You’re with her: you do too. Knowing you’re being filmed is nothing compared to the greedy way Minnie’s eyes follow you as you tug Yuqi’s panties down her thighs, let them drop to the floor. Your shirt’s come off in the interim. You hook one of your hands under Yuqi’s knee, push her leg up, zero in on her cunt, dripping wet-

“Minnie.” You snap your fingers at her. “Play with your pussy.” Your cockhead brushes against Yuqi’s slit, earns the whistle of air through Yuqi’s teeth. “I wanna see you squirt before either of us even touches you.”

You don’t even have to look at her to know if she obeys - oh, it’s Minnie, and she always will - and then you’re stuffing Yuqi’s pussy with your cock. 

Yuqi chokes on her own moans, head tipping forward; you don’t even give her time to adjust to the stretch before you’re pounding her, thrusting your cock deep, deeper, the pressure of her cunt almost overbearing, overwhelming - she always matches your pace like it’s nothing, her eyes on yours, the intensity something euphoric in itself, watching her eyebrows knit and her breath trap itself in her throat-

Your hand’s back in her hair, keeping her stare locked on yours like a gunfight, watching her try to keep from completely losing it in front of you, or Minnie - it’s all that pride, like it’s the only thing keeping her standing. One of these days you’ll break it out of her, but you won’t deny it: it’s so fucking hot watching her try to keep from falling to a slutty, squealing mess.

“Oh, there you are,” you say, condescending - you’re never gonna pull back from a taunt. “What were you saying about not being a dumb whore?” You tug her face so close to yours that your noses brush. “Because it kind of seems like you’re just all talk now that you’ve got my cock in your dirty fucking cunt.”

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s all talk,” Yuqi bites back, words shot and shattering. She’s so small compared to you that when you bury your dick inside of her it wracks her whole body, makes her shiver: no matter what venom she spits at you, she can’t fight the physical. “You’re barely even fucking me, you limp-dick asshole - are you even trying?” 

You laugh out loud - you know Yuqi’s really loving it when her insults get nonsensical, so obviously untrue it’s something straight out of a comedy routine. You thrust harder, dig your fingers underneath her thigh; Yuqi can talk shit all she wants, but you see the way her eyelids flutter, her lips parted in pleasure she’s trying her hardest to deny. It’s no use - she’s clenching, she’s soaking your cock. 

“Here you go again.” You hook in your blunt nails to her pale skin, make her gasp with the sudden pain. “Trying to act all high and mighty in front of your little fucktoy.” Minnie whimpers from the bed - she’s got three fingers inside her own cunt, she’s being almost as aggressive as you are with Yuqi - you’re just waiting for her to drench the sheets. “You don’t want her to know that you’re just as much of a greedy little slut as she is, huh?” 

“Please.” You pick up the pace - Yuqi cries out, tries to talk herself through the way your cock’s destroying her - it’s a very valiant effort. She’s so close, so fast - her body can’t hide that from you. “No - fuck - no one’s as much of a greedy slut as Minnie is.” 

The degradation’s like a return to power, for her: that wild, sharp smile appears on Yuqi’s face, even now, sweating and slick and shuddering tight around your cock. She’s seconds from breaking and she’s still got that ego, slicing through it all. All those jokes about fucking the attitude right out of her - oh, you’ll never be able to truly do it. You fuck her like you want her dead, like you want to kill her - she looks you right in the eye like she’s saying you can’t, and anyone who tries better run. 

You’ll do the next best thing, instead: you’ll make her fucking cum. 

You drop her hair, slide your hand down to her throbbing clit. “Well,” you say, and match her smirk like you’re trading blows, “you’re sure giving her a run for her money.” 

Yuqi opens her mouth - she’s got some poisonous reply ready, or she must - but then she’s rocked with an orgasm so intense that any trace of it melts straight off her tongue. That’s one thing, all on its own - but there’s Minnie, on the bed and taking instruction beautifully, squealing, squirting-

You’ll get to her, in a minute. You fuck Yuqi all the way through it, let her fall pliant, winded, on the verge of collapse - she’s white-knuckling one of your wrists, her collarbone shiny with sweat, and you’re still burying your cock deep in her cunt, overstimulating - you’ll get there, you will-

“Wait,” Yuqi manages, breathless, wavering, cutting her gaze over to Minnie. “Don’t cum inside me. Save it for-” It breaks off, comes back doubly punishing. “For this fucking cumslut.” 

You both glance over at Minnie at the same time, at the soaked sheets, at the camera she’s gripping like a lifeline, trained on the two of you. Yuqi gets off your cock, sinks to the end of the bed, thighs damp and shaking - she’ll take her reprieves, her relief. You’ve still got a load to spill. You can handle Minnie all on your own. 

Minnie’s wiped from her own orgasm, cum clinging to her fingers, but the moment you get close to her she’s already perking up: she knows what her place is, here. You drag your eyes pointedly from the squirt-stained sheets underneath her to her toned legs, her dripping cunt, her hips, waist, ribs, the hard points of her nipples - Minnie shifts under your scrutiny, like just you looking at her sets her aflame - and your hands find the column of her throat, then the fine line of her jaw. Minnie waits, completely willing, passive - she lets you touch whatever you want like you own her. 

“Did you like that, sweetheart?” You brush your palm across Minnie’s sweaty forehead, thread your fingers through her hair. You can’t get over her eyes, when she’s like this, so turned on she’s going out of her mind - so dark and dazed and needy. “You liked seeing Yuqi get put in her place?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Yuqi retorts, still gripping the bedframe - as long as you’re in the moment, it doesn’t matter how hard you fuck her, how many times you make her cum: she’s always going to snap back. 

You grin at Minnie, conspiratorial like you’re sharing a secret. “She’s cute when she’s angry, huh?” 

You’re not expecting it, so it actually shocks you when Yuqi lurches forward to go for your neck, her fingers wrapping tight around your throat. Her eyes are glimmering, dangerous, some feral animal just waiting for the kill - you stare right on back, pulse pounding in your ears - she’s never sexier than when she’s like this, like she’s right on the brink of murder. She’s seconds from strangling you and you can’t resist her. 

“Keep fucking talking,” says Yuqi, remarkably steady for someone who just came all over your cock, “and you’re never gonna fuck me again, you got that?”

That’s a threat she’ll never make good on, but she’s so criminally hot that you let her have it. 

“Fine,” you say - you’ll throw up the white flags.

“Great,” says Yuqi, and then she dips to kiss you, loosening her grip, letting you go. “Give her hell.” 

The camera trades hands out of necessity alone - Yuqi takes it, rests back against the bedframe - and yours find the flare of Minnie’s hips, thumbs pressed against the raise of her hipbones, against bruises you’ve left before and you’ll leave again. “Alright,” you murmur - Minnie’s blue nails are a flash against the sheets where she’s tangled her fingers in them. You’re canvassing her body, all that ground to cover. “I guess you deserve at least a little bit of a reward for being so patient.” 

Then you deliver an open-handed slap against her waiting cunt. 

Minnie screams - in the foreground, there’s Yuqi’s cruel, stunning laugh - and you’ll take it as a soundtrack, a lead-in - you smack her cunt again, harder - Minnie wails in pain, in consuming pleasure: that’s how it all starts, and you shove your cock deep inside her.

She’s so fucking wet - between the shrieks spilling from her lips, you can hear the sloppy sounds of her pussy as you’re pounding her, the noise obscene, sin audible like it’s made a home of her voice - and you’re so rough with Minnie that you swear you could rip her in two, or die trying. Oh, maybe you’re showing off - Yuqi’s with that camera, on the corner of the bed, her view picture-perfect-

Maybe - but part of it’s that fucking pussy, part of it’s the writhing, the squealing, part of it’s how Minnie’s begging for more, more, more-

“More?” This time, your hand finds her flawless face instead of her cunt, but the slap’s a lightning strike, just as loud. “Sounds like someone is getting a little spoiled. You do realize that you’re just a stupid fucking toy for Yuqi and I to use - you get that I don’t give a fuck about how you feel, because your slutty fucking pussy is just going to squirt the moment you get a cock inside you-”

Minnie does actually squirt, then, clear liquid spraying everywhere - there’s Yuqi’s laugh, again, so openly delighted-

“Yeah, you hear her laughing at you?” Another slap, and then you bring your attention to Minnie’s throat - you can never keep your hands away from it for long. “It’s because it’s so fucking funny how easy you are, Minnie - how you’re just a dumb, desperate fuckhole-”

Minnie’s eyes squeeze shut, and you feel how it rolls through her whole body, the sheer, stunning humiliation, how she eats it all up-

“And we’ve got it all on camera, baby.” That’s the thing that does it - it’s one thing to fuck her and it’s another thing to fuck with her head, and that’s everything else: the slapping, the choking, the way you talk to her like you couldn’t care less what happens to her - “You can’t go back now, sweetheart. Now we’ve got all this hard proof of just how fucking greedy you are to get fucked like a bitch - now everybody can see for themselves how much you love it.” 

Minnie’s got tears rolling down her cheeks, now - you’re gonna cum, and you know it - but you can’t hold back from getting the words out of her. 

“Minnie,” you say, expectant, sinister - you press down on her throat, and then you finally let go. “Tell the camera how much you love it.”

You can actually feel Yuqi getting closer, playing her role - she’s not even touching Minnie, and yet the smugness is coming off her in waves, and it’s that ego, that undisputed power, and it’s building up, and up, and up-

“I love it,” sobs Minnie, babbling to the point of incoherence, slurring, weightless - and you think you might’ve finally broken her. “I love it - fucking love it - I’m fucking useless, I’m just a hole for you to fuck and cum in - I don’t care if everybody knows, I want everybody to know, it’s what I deserve-” 

“Damn right,” says Yuqi, and she’s right at your shoulder, camera lens doing slow circuits from Minnie’s pussy to her face - there’s her cunt stuffed full of your cock and wrecked, there’s her expression with every profane bit of pleasure written across it, like you might’ve taken a pen and scrawled fuckdoll on her forehead, branded her yours - oh, that’s an idea for a different day, and Yuqi’s eyes are a reckoning, her voice slicing like glass-

“That’s our filthy little fucktoy.” Yuqi’s nails are against your back, claws at your shoulder blades - each time you thrust in and out of Minnie, they scrape against you, stinging - and it’s doubling the senses, the feelings, pushing it all to the edge - “Just dying to get that pussy filled up with cum - he’s ruining your tight fucking cunt, huh? I’ll be surprised if you can even fucking feel anything after this, stupid fucking whore-”

Minnie cries out, shudders, squirts violently around your cock - Yuqi digs her nails into your spine, hard - you’re groaning out loud, cumming like you’ll never stop-

“Oh, you think it’s over?” 

All of a sudden, the camera’s getting pushed into your hands, and Yuqi’s shoving you backwards - the moment you pull out, the load you spilled into Minnie’s cunt starts leaking out onto the already drenched sheets - and then Yuqi flips Minnie over, drags her ass to her crotch - and you don’t know what it happened, but Yuqi’s stepped into the strap-on, and she’s positioned the dildo right at Minnie’s leaking cunt, still full of your cum and dripping. 

“What do you think?” You pose it like a casual question, conversational - your fingers slip through Minnie’s hair and tug, getting a pained yelp - you’re talking about her like she’s not even there, and she’s obsessed with it. “She hasn’t had enough?”  

“I don’t know,” Yuqi says, and places the flat of her palm on the smooth line of Minnie’s back, smirk glittering, treacherous. “I think she can take a little more.” 

Minnie’s so far gone, and it’s all over her face - she’s practically limp, eyes glassy - you think if you weren’t both holding her down she’d just float away, mindless, choking on her own overwhelming pleasure - she’s in heaven and hell all at once, and it must be fucking killing her-

“Are you okay with having my sloppy seconds?” you ask, but it’s less malicious than most things you say when you’re pushing Yuqi’s buttons. You’ve struck up an alliance, here. You’ve got a common goal, a girl as your collective property - for once, you’re on the exact same side. 

Yuqi laughs like she knows it, the sound gorgeous, godless - in a second she’s kissing you, licking hot into your mouth. “This cunt’s always sloppy,” she says when she pulls back, callous, saliva stringing at your lips. Her hand settles on the curve of Minnie’s ass, smacks down hard like it’s her right. “I think I’ll make my peace with it.” 

There’s smoke in the room, or there must be - Yuqi’s hubris is suffocating, cloying, the hottest thing you’ve ever seen - and she jerks her hips sharply, harshly, and buries the dildo deep inside Minnie.

“Oh my fucking god-” 

Minnie’s gasping, incoherent; it’s dirty, it’s filthy - Yuqi fucking your cum deeper and deeper into Minnie’s pussy, slapping so hard at Minnie’s ass that you know it’ll turn red and bruise - and Minnie’s drooling, screaming, begging for it-

“You like it when it hurts, huh?” says Yuqi, the devil on her lips, and she’s so unforgiving with her, so careless - you see the way Minnie’s striking eyes roll back in her head and you know it’s the only way to ever properly fuck her. You could treat her nice, but it’d never make her this fucking wet. “You like being used like a worthless fucking cockslut? You like knowing the only thing you’re fucking good for is to be fucked and spanked and filled with cum?” 

You’re rounding the bed, you’re at Minnie’s sloppy mouth - it’s a mouth made to be fucked and you’ll get your turn. “I think you should answer her, baby,” you tell her, first, tapping at her pouty bottom lip. “Yuqi doesn’t like being ignored.”

Minnie looks up at you, uncomprehending, and all that comes out is complete fucking nonsense, words without a sentence or sentiment to stick to - “Fuck,” she slurs, and you swear she’s losing more than her voice. “Fuck - cockslut - hurts - I love it, I love - fuck-” 

“Sorry, darling,” you say to Yuqi, faking all your sympathies - and then you promptly shove your cock down Minnie’s throat. “I think we might’ve fucked the cognitive functioning out of her for the time being. Oh, fuck-” 

See, like you said, you can handle Minnie on your own - but it’s so much more fun handling her with Yuqi. 

The look on Yuqi’s face is carnal, devastating - Minnie’s got one cock in her mouth and another in her pussy, and you’re both so messy there’s barely any rhythm to it - and Yuqi latches onto the moment, takes advantage. There’s a thought here, one where the two of you are switching off, filling up the one hole you haven’t touched. Yuqi’s eyes slip down between Minnie’s ass cheeks, then back up to you - you’ll get there in the future, but Minnie’s sobbing, slobbering around your cock, and for now-

“Sure,” replies Yuqi, and cants her hips hard - it’s an image you can’t look away from, her pink hair wild and her thrusts deliberate - she looks like she was made to fuck Minnie like this, like she can do better things with a strap-on than anybody else would be able to do with their real dicks. She’s just got all this control, she’s unbelievable, she’s got the whole world in the palm of her hand, begging to bend to her will-

“But - personally - I think this slut’s always been completely fucking brainless,” Yuqi adds, smirk cutting and crooked - when she fights, she’ll fight dirty - and Minnie squirts for the final time.

You’re jerking your cock, dumping your cum into Minnie’s mouth. She barely swallows any of it, lets creamy white spill down her chin; Yuqi pulls out of her, and she collapses to the bed, entirely limp. Yuqi’s tumbling off to the side, pushing sweaty hair off her forehead, so visibly pleased with her handiwork - she’s fumbling with the strap-on, but you think if given the chance, she’s be tracing every line of Minnie’s body with delicate hands, fingertips trapping sweat and slick-

She gets the strap-on off, and you’ll let her get there - but first, you think she deserves one more orgasm.

“Yuqi,” you say. 

Yuqi looks up at you, and for the first time all night she’s lost her guard, let it fall. “Yeah?”

In two seconds flat you’ve tugged her across the bed, and you’ve got your grip on her like there’s a point you’re proving. Three fingers in her cunt, your other hand rubbing furiously at her clit - the camera’s on an angle on the bedspread, and Yuqi’s cunt is wide open for you, already raw and pink and wrecked, already so close to the edge-

“Fucking cum for me,” you demand, and it’s one order she won’t mind following. “Fucking cum.” 

There’s those throaty moans, spilling from her lips - there’s her pussy clamping down around your fingers-

She cums, and that’s the finale you’ve been waiting for. 

When you slide your fingers out of her, there’s a lull, finally, a peace treaty signed and delivered. It’s not silent - there’s the panting, the loud pull of air into your lungs - but it’s something close, significant. You’re calling a ceasefire. You’re pulling the camera and you’re yelling cut. 

Yuqi leans back against the bedframe, her hand finding your wrist; she draws your cum-drenched fingers to her lips, sucks her own orgasm off your fingers. It’s so hot, but you’re past that. Minnie’s not unconscious, but she’s almost there - she’s completely drained, mouth slack and salivating, her cunt and her throat so thoroughly used that she’s got cum spilling from both holes. The sheets are never going to recover from this - you already know that.

You don’t know how long it is before you speak, but then you do. 

“Think about it,” you say. Yuqi glances at you - Minnie rolls over, and you’re still not sure if she remembers how to form words. “We could’ve been doing that the whole time.” 

“We would’ve killed her,” points out Yuqi, lips tripping up at a corner, gesturing towards Minnie’s virtually lifeless frame. 

Minnie’s smiles spreads, shows teeth - so, you’re both wrong: she’s more alive than she’s ever been. “Probably,” she agrees, woozy and wrecked. “But what a fucking way to go.” 

-

“Jesus Christ.” 

It’s a slow crawl back to clarity; Minnie’s still splayed across the cum-soaked sheets like she doesn’t have a damn care in the world. She’s grinning stupidly, gorgeously. You can’t take your eyes off of her. She says, “I wouldn’t mind making that a habit.”

Her voice is hoarse from screaming, shot and scratchy. You can’t take your eyes off of her - but then Yuqi’s laughing, unruly and intensely beautiful, and now you’re stuck on her like you’d never want to look away. These girls: they’ll be the fucking death of you.

You smooth a hand over Yuqi’s hair, kiss Minnie’s sweaty forehead. “You think we can all fit in your shower?”

“Bitch,” says Minnie, mildly delirious, on the verge of laughter. “I don’t think I can fucking move.”

“Well, she’s gone,” Yuqi says to you. She’s rubbing Minnie’s slender shoulders, expression suddenly soft, something sparking in her dark eyes that’s not nearly as destructive as it was five minutes ago. Her eyes shift to you, and the look doesn’t fade. “I’ll run a bath,” she says, quietly, as Minnie’s eyelids flicker closed. “There’s one in the bathroom down the hall. Can you-” 

“Water?” you ask, picking up on it immediately - the ease of it’s just another new habit. “I’ll get you both some.” 

“Thanks.” The camera’s on the nightstand, the video stopped: it’s something to revisit at a later date. You’re in an entirely different moment now, and it’s nothing any film will ever get to see - you think you can safely say you’re fine with that. 

Yuqi sighs, runs her thumb down Minnie’s collarbone. She says, “I don’t know if you can get dehydrated from squirting too much, but I think Minnie probably made it happen.” 

You burst out laughing - it’s so sudden, and so crass. Well, you see the situation you’re in: at least it fits. “You’re so stupid.” 

“Minnie’s not the only one who got the cognitive functioning fucked out of her.” Yuqi makes sarcastic air quotes with her fingers - even now, she’ll find a way to tease you. “Cut me a break, dude.” 

“Dude,” agrees Minnie, mumbling and barely awake. “Thanks for the sex. Best ever in my life. Ever. Forever. I’m going to sleep.” 

“You do that,” you say, standing in the doorway, chest expanding, inexplicably endeared. “Dude.” 

“Say dude again and I’ll break your kneecaps,” says Yuqi, and her smile matches Minnie’s exhausted one like it’s a scene straight out of a movie, pre-planned and perfect. “Come back soon or we’ll miss you.” 

You’re laughing again as you tumble out the door - you’re only getting water, you’ll be back in two minutes, tops - but somehow, you think you get exactly what she means.

-

There’ll be more days, nights, videos - ruination caught on camera and put on replay. You kind of know, even though you never say it out loud: there’s a next time, here, there’s a future and there’s fantasies, a hundred different ways to fuck the two of them. You’ll fall apart, fall back together. It’ll never be just once. You’ll never be able to let this go. 

“Yeah,” says Minnie, in the bath, smiling and sweetly contemplative. Yuqi’s stroking shampoo through her hair - you’re tipping water to her lips. “I’m fucked. I think I’m really fucked. Literally and metaphorically.” 

“You know what a metaphor is?” Yuqi asks, feigning shock, and you lose it laughing. Minnie’s right: you’re all completely screwed, but you’re in way too deep now to ever go back. 

(Oh, well. That’s the thing about a habit like this: it’d be just so terribly tedious to break - so you won't.)

"You've got us," you tell her, and you mean it. "I think you'll live."

-

<3

[dr-hairblog]

DR-HAİR - DEVASA+ (5)

Exploring Advanced Techniques in Hair Transplant Procedures in Turkey

Turkey is renowned globally for its expertise in hair transplant and hair restoration solutions. This article will provide you with a detailed overview of the advanced hair transplant procedures, hair grafting, and implantation techniques available in the country.

Hair transplant in Turkey incorporates two major techniques: Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE) and Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT). These procedures are considered the gold standard in hair restoration, with their high success rates and natural-looking results.

Follicular Unit Extraction is a hair grafting technique where individual hair follicles are extracted from the donor area and then implanted into the balding areas. This procedure is less invasive, resulting in minimal scarring and a shorter recovery time.

On the other hand, Follicular Unit Transplantation involves removing a strip of scalp from the back of the head, from which individual hair follicles are then harvested. The follicles are then transplanted into the areas with hair loss. This hair restoration procedure is highly effective for those with large areas of baldness.

Additionally, Turkey also offers advanced hair transplant techniques such as micrografting and minigrafting. These procedures, like the others, aim to provide a natural hair transplant by ensuring the implanted hair blends seamlessly with the surrounding hair.

Each hair transplant procedure steps are meticulously planned and executed to ensure the best possible outcome. The hair transplant operation begins with a thorough evaluation of the patient's scalp, followed by the harvesting of hair follicles from the donor area and their precise implantation in the balding areas.

A significant advantage of undergoing a hair transplant in Turkey is the country's commitment to using the latest technologies and methods for hair implantation and hair restoration procedures. This includes the use of high-precision tools for follicular unit extraction and transplantation, ensuring a natural and permanent hair transplant.

In conclusion, the hair transplantation process in Turkey is designed to offer patients an advanced, effective, and natural hair transplant. From the detailed hair transplant procedure steps to the meticulous execution of the hair transplant operation, patients are assured of a high-quality hair restoration experience.

The Hair Transplant Journey in Turkey: A Comprehensive Guide for Men and Women

Turkey has become a global hub for hair transplant procedures, offering solutions for both men and women suffering from pattern baldness. The hair transplant in Turkey has gained significant attention due to its advanced techniques, high patient satisfaction, and compelling patient testimonials.

Hair transplant for men is a common procedure in Turkey. Male pattern baldness, a condition that affects a substantial number of men worldwide, can be effectively addressed with a hair transplant. The hair transplant patient journey typically involves an initial consultation to assess the extent of the baldness and plan for the appropriate procedure. The patient preparation phase includes detailed instructions to ensure optimal results.

The hair transplant patient experience in Turkey is generally positive, with many reporting high levels of satisfaction. This is largely due to the expertise of the healthcare professionals and the high-quality care provided throughout the procedure. Patient testimonials often highlight the transformative impact of the transplant, boosting self-confidence and enhancing overall well-being.

Hair transplant for women in Turkey is also gaining popularity. Female pattern baldness, although less common, can cause significant distress. A hair transplant can provide a permanent solution, restoring hair to thinning or bald areas. Women undergoing a hair transplant in Turkey can expect a similar patient journey to men, with a tailored approach to address the unique aspects of female pattern baldness.

The hair transplant patient recovery process is an essential part of the journey. In Turkey, patients are provided with comprehensive aftercare instructions and ongoing support to ensure a smooth recovery. This commitment to patient care post-procedure further enhances the hair transplant patient experience.

In conclusion, Turkey's reputation as a premier destination for hair transplant procedures for men and women is well-deserved. The country's dedication to patient satisfaction, evidenced by numerous positive patient testimonials, positions it as a leading choice for those seeking a solution to pattern baldness. Whether it's male or female pattern baldness, a hair transplant in Turkey can offer a life-changing experience.

Harnessing Hair Transplant in Turkey: A Comprehensive Guide to Restoring Hair Density and Overcoming Baldness

Baldness, medically referred to as alopecia, is a common concern for many individuals worldwide. The quest for a reliable hair loss solution has led many to explore various options. One of the most effective and promising procedures today is a hair transplant in Turkey. This technique is not just a temporary baldness cure but a permanent solution for restoring hair and improving hair density.

Hair transplant success stories have significantly grown over time, and Turkey has become a renowned destination for this procedure. This treatment is an excellent hair regrowth treatment that has given hope to many suffering from hair loss. The outcome of a hair transplant procedure is often a new lease of life for many, restoring their confidence and youthful look.

Baldness treatment in Turkey primarily involves a hair follicle transplant. This procedure is a remarkable hair loss solution whose success hinges on the transplanting of hair follicles from dense areas to the bald patches. It's a delicate procedure that requires skilled professionals to ensure the hair starts growing from the transplanted follicles.

Hair regrowth after a transplant procedure is a gradual process. Over time, the transplanted follicles start to produce new hair strands, leading to restored hair growth. The hairline restoration process is particularly fascinating as the procedure can accurately redesign a natural-looking hairline.

Hair density is another critical aspect of a hair transplant. A successful procedure in Turkey aims to provide a dense, natural-looking hair pattern that seamlessly blends with your existing hair. The result is a fuller head of hair that effectively masks any previous signs of baldness.

Hair transplant success stories from Turkey are indeed inspiring. These stories highlight the effective hair regrowth treatment options available and the potential for a total baldness cure. The hair transplant procedure outcome is not only about restoring hair but also about reinstating self-esteem and confidence.

In conclusion, if you're exploring alopecia treatment options, a hair transplant in Turkey could be the solution you've been searching for. It's more than a procedure; it's a journey to reclaiming your hair and reviving your confidence.

Hair Transplant In Turkey: A Comprehensive Guide to Scalp Health and Post-Op Care

A hair transplant in Turkey involves an intricate procedure that focuses on restoring not just the hair, but also overall scalp health. It is a process that begins with a thorough examination of your scalp, followed by a carefully planned surgery, and concludes with a comprehensive post-op care regime.

Scalp rejuvenation is an integral part of the hair transplant procedure. It ensures that your scalp is in the best possible condition to receive and nurture the transplanted hair grafts. This is key to the hair transplant graft survival and ultimately, the success of the procedure.

The hair transplant surgery day is a significant one, requiring preparation and understanding of the process. This includes understanding the application of hair transplant anaesthesia, which is administered to ensure minimal discomfort during the procedure. Some people may experience anxiety about the anaesthesia, but rest assured that it is a standard part of the process and is administered by experienced professionals.

The process of transplantation involves making tiny incisions on your scalp where the hair grafts are inserted. These incisions may require hair transplant stitches, which are typically dissolvable and do not cause any long-term discomfort.

A common concern among patients is the hair transplant scar that results from the incisions. However, modern techniques and technologies have significantly reduced the visibility of these scars. Furthermore, proper hair transplant scar care, as part of the post-op care, can help to minimize any residual scarring.

The hair transplant healing process is as crucial as the surgery itself. It involves meticulous hair transplant post-op care to ensure the health and survival of the newly transplanted grafts. This care regime typically includes gentle washing, avoiding direct sunlight, and refraining from strenuous activities that may put stress on the grafts.

In conclusion, a hair transplant in Turkey involves a holistic approach that focuses on overall scalp health, from the initial scalp rejuvenation to the final stages of post-op care. With the right understanding and care, the procedure can successfully restore not just your hair, but also your confidence and wellbeing.

Understanding the Comprehensive Process and Key Elements of Hair Transplant in Turkey

If you're considering a hair transplant in Turkey, it's essential to understand the intricacies of the procedure. This includes the critical role of the donor hair, the various hair transplant techniques employed, and the technology used in the transplantation process.

A hair transplant surgery starts with the extraction of donor hair, which is the hair that's harvested from a patient's own scalp. This hair is typically taken from the back of the head, known as the hair transplant donor area. This area is chosen because the hair here is genetically programmed to resist balding, making it ideal for transplantation.

The next step in the process is the preparation of the grafts. The hair transplant graft density, or the number of hair follicles transplanted per square centimeter, plays a crucial role in the outcome of the surgery. A higher graft density often results in a more natural-looking hairline and increased hair volume.

The actual transplantation procedure is usually carried out over a single or multiple hair transplant sessions, depending on the extent of hair loss. The hair transplant surgeon's role is vital at this stage. They are responsible for implanting the grafts into the recipient area, ensuring the correct placement and angle for a natural appearance.

The hair transplant team also plays a significant part in the process. They assist the surgeon in preparing the grafts and often help in the implantation process. The skill, experience, and coordination of the team can significantly impact the success of the procedure.

In recent years, there has been a significant advancement in hair transplant techniques and transplantation technology. This includes the use of state-of-the-art hair transplant equipment, which allows for more precise and efficient extraction and implantation of hair follicles. These advancements have made hair transplants more effective, less invasive, and have reduced recovery times.

In conclusion, understanding these key elements can help prospective patients make informed decisions about undergoing hair transplant surgery in Turkey. It's always important to conduct thorough research and consult with a professional before making any decisions about your hair restoration journey.

Non-Surgical Hair Transplant and Alternatives: Considerations and Advice for Hair Replacement Therapy in Turkey

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, one must weigh the benefits and drawbacks of surgical and non-surgical hair transplant procedures. A non-surgical hair transplant, contrary to common belief, can provide impressive results and may be suitable for those not willing to undergo an invasive procedure. This method, also recognized as hair replacement therapy, offers a less invasive alternative for those suffering from hair loss.

However, it's crucial to remember that non-surgical hair transplant methods are not for everyone. Although they can provide an immediate solution to hair loss, these procedures might not offer the same long-term results as surgical hair transplants. Therefore, it's essential to explore all hair transplant alternatives before making a decision.

Hair transplant considerations should include a thorough evaluation of your hair loss pattern, the potential causes, and the expected results. It's also advisable to consider the potential side effects and post-procedure care required for both surgical and non-surgical hair transplants.

Seeking hair transplant advice from experienced professionals can help to clear any doubts and provide clarity on the most suitable procedure for your specific case. It can also give you a realistic expectation of the results you can achieve. Remember, every person's hair loss is unique, and hence the solution should be personalized.

A hair transplant consultation is a crucial step in the process of deciding on a hair transplant procedure. During this consultation, a thorough examination of your hair and scalp will be done to evaluate the severity and pattern of your hair loss. This assessment will help determine the most suitable hair transplant procedure for you.

Hair transplant counselling is another vital step in the process. This counselling can provide you with a deeper understanding of the procedure, help you set realistic expectations, and prepare you for the post-procedure care.

A pre-transplant consultation is the final step before deciding to undergo a hair transplant procedure. This consultation will provide a detailed plan for your procedure, including the type of transplant, number of sessions required, and the aftercare regimen.

In summary, when considering a hair transplant in Turkey, it's crucial to research, seek advice, and have thorough consultations to ensure you're making an informed decision. Whether you choose a surgical or non-surgical hair transplant, remember that the procedure should be tailored to your specific needs and circumstances.

Understanding the Cost, Financing, Benefits, and Success Rate of Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey is gaining popularity due to its impressive results and proven success rate. This procedure has been a game-changer for many individuals, providing a boost of confidence and a renewed sense of self-esteem. In this section, we will dive deeper into the aspects of hair transplant cost, financing options, benefits, and the success rate of the procedure.

Hair transplant cost in Turkey is one of the primary factors that potential patients consider. It's important to understand that the cost may vary depending on several factors. These include the complexity of the procedure, the number of grafts required, and the specific techniques used. However, despite these variables, hair transplant in Turkey is recognized for its affordability compared to other countries.

Next, we will discuss hair transplant financing. This is a critical aspect for those who may find the upfront cost a bit steep. Thankfully, there are various financing options available to help manage the cost of the procedure. It's always recommended to research and explore these options thoroughly, ensuring you find the best fit for your financial situation.

Now, let's delve into the hair transplant benefits. This procedure can bring about a multitude of positive changes. Firstly, it provides a permanent solution to hair loss, offering a natural-looking and aesthetically pleasing result. Furthermore, it helps to improve self-confidence, as a full head of hair often enhances personal appearance. The hair transplant procedure benefits extend beyond aesthetics, as it can also positively impact mental and emotional well-being.

Understanding the hair transplant procedure advantages is equally important. One of the significant advantages is its high success rate. This is mainly due to the advanced techniques and skilled professionals carrying out the procedures in Turkey. Additionally, the procedure results in minimal scarring, and recovery time is relatively quick.

Lastly, let's consider the hair transplant success rate. The success of a hair transplant is usually determined by the growth of new hair and how natural it looks. In Turkey, the success rate of hair transplant procedures is high, with most patients achieving desired hair transplant results.

In conclusion, it is clear that the hair transplant procedure offers numerous benefits. From cost and financing options to the success rate and the positive impact on individuals' lives, hair transplant in Turkey stands as a promising solution to hair loss. However, it's always advised to conduct thorough research and consult with a professional before making a decision.

Understanding Hair Transplant Recovery and Post-Operative Care in Turkey

Hair transplant recovery is an essential part of the overall procedure, and Turkey's advanced healthcare system offers exemplary post-transplant care, making it a top choice for many undergoing this life-changing operation.

One of the most frequently asked questions by patients is about hair transplant recovery time. Typically, the healing process is relatively quick, but it can vary depending on individual conditions and the specific type of hair transplant procedure the patient went through.

After the transplant, the scalp may feel very tender, and there may be some swelling. Some small crusts may also form around each graft, but these usually fall off within a week. It's essential to understand that the hair transplant patient recovery period is a journey that needs careful attention and patience.

Post-transplant care is crucial to ensure a successful recovery. Patients are usually given specific instructions to follow, which may include taking prescribed medications, using certain hair care products, and avoiding certain activities. Hair transplant post-operative care also includes regular check-ups to monitor the healing process and to make sure that the transplant is successful.

In the first few weeks following the procedure, it's normal for the transplanted hair to fall out - but don't worry! This is a natural part of the hair transplant procedure recovery, and new growth will usually start within a few months. It's important to remember that everyone's recovery process is different, and the final results of the transplant may not be visible until a year after the surgery.

In conclusion, hair transplant in Turkey offers a high standard of medical care and a thorough hair transplant recovery plan. The recovery period requires patience and diligent post-operative care. By adhering to these, you will be able to enjoy the full benefits of your hair transplant procedure recovery.

Understanding Hair Transplant Procedure Safety, Risks, and Side Effects in Turkey

As the popularity of hair transplants in Turkey continues to surge, it is vital for potential candidates to understand the procedure's safety, potential risks, and side effects. This knowledge can help you make a more informed decision about whether this procedure is right for you.

One of the primary concerns that many individuals have is hair transplant procedure safety. Modern techniques and advancements in medical technology have made hair transplants safer than ever before. However, as with any surgical procedure, there are still some risks involved. That's why it's essential to be fully aware of the potential hair transplant risks before deciding to undergo the procedure.

The most common hair transplant risks include infection, bleeding, and scarring. There's also a risk of unnatural-looking hair growth or the transplanted hair not taking root as it should, which can lead to disappointing results. Despite these risks, it's important to note that complications are relatively rare, and most people experience successful results.

Regarding hair transplant side effects, patients often experience some degree of pain, swelling, and numbness in the scalp following the procedure. These are typically temporary and should subside within a few days. Some people may also experience a phenomenon known as "shock loss," which is a temporary thinning of your existing hair. Again, this is usually temporary, and your hair should return to its normal thickness within a few months.

The potential hair transplant procedure disadvantages should also be considered. One of the main disadvantages is the cost, as hair transplants can be quite expensive. Also, the procedure may require multiple sessions, depending on the extent of hair loss, which can be time-consuming. Lastly, it is important to manage expectations as the results of a hair transplant are not immediate and may take up to a year to fully materialize.

In conclusion, while hair transplants in Turkey offer a promising solution to hair loss, it's essential to understand the procedure's safety, risks, and side effects. By being fully aware of these factors, you can make an informed decision that best suits your needs and personal circumstances.

Demystifying Hair Transplant in Turkey: Myths, Facts, and Expectations

Hair transplant in Turkey has garnered international attention in recent years due to its accessibility, affordability, and the high level of expertise offered by the professionals in the field. However, along with the popularity, various hair transplant myths have surfaced, causing confusion and apprehension among potential patients. This article aims to debunk these myths, disclose hair transplant facts, and set the right hair transplant expectations.

One of the most common hair transplant myths is that the results are immediate. In reality, patience is key when it comes to hair transplant before and after. The full results of a hair transplant procedure may take up to a year to be visible as the transplanted hair initially falls out before growing back. This is a normal part of the procedure and understanding this aspect can create more realistic hair transplant procedure expectations.

Another common myth suggests that hair transplant is a painful procedure. While some discomfort is inevitable, the procedure itself is generally painless, thanks to the local anesthesia applied during the surgery. Hair transplant reviews often highlight the professionalism and care of the medical team in ensuring that the patient is comfortable throughout the procedure.

In terms of hair transplant facts, it's essential to know that not everyone is a suitable candidate for the procedure. Factors such as the extent of hair loss, age, and overall health can influence the success of the procedure. It’s crucial to have a comprehensive consultation with a professional to understand if you are a good candidate.

When it comes to hair transplant expectations, patients should understand that results may vary. Factors such as individual hair characteristics, the extent of hair loss, and the skill of the medical team can influence the outcome. Therefore, it's important to have realistic hair transplant procedure expectations.

To conclude, understanding the hair transplant procedure can greatly contribute to your overall experience and satisfaction. Through hair transplant reviews, you can gain insights into the experiences of others, helping you make an informed decision. Remember, knowledge is power, and the more you know about the hair transplant procedure, the better prepared you will be for your journey towards hair restoration in Turkey.

Understanding the Hair Transplant Timeline and Procedure in Turkey

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, it is vital to understand the hair transplant timeline, hair transplant preparation, and the hair transplant procedure process. This will not only help you set realistic expectations but also ensure that you're adequately prepared for the journey ahead.

The hair transplant timeline generally spans over a period of 12-18 months. However, it is essential to remember that each individual's hair transplant timeline may vary depending on various factors, such as the extent of hair loss, general health, and the speed at which their hair grows.

Before the hair transplant procedure in Turkey, there are several steps involved in the hair transplant preparation. Firstly, you will need to have a consultation with a hair transplant specialist who will assess your hair loss and discuss the best treatment options. You may also be asked to stop certain medications and refrain from consuming alcohol or smoking for a specific period before the procedure.

The hair transplant procedure timeline commences once you're cleared for the surgery. The procedure typically involves extracting hair follicles from a donor area (usually the back or sides of your head) and implanting them into the balding or thinning areas. Despite the procedure's complexity, the hair transplant procedure process is usually straightforward and carried out under local anesthesia.

Hair transplant procedure preparation is another essential aspect to consider. It includes understanding the post-procedure care instructions, arranging for someone to drive you home after the surgery, and ensuring you have a comfortable space at home for your recovery.

In conclusion, understanding the hair transplant timeline, the hair transplant preparation, and the hair transplant procedure process can help you feel more confident and prepared for your hair transplant in Turkey. Remember, it's not just about the procedure, but also about the journey to regaining your confidence and self-esteem.

Understanding Hair Transplant Procedure Advancements and Variations in Turkey

In the realm of aesthetic medicine, hair transplant eligibility is an important consideration for individuals seeking to regain their hairline and overall hair volume. Turkey has emerged as a leading destination for this specialized procedure, due to the country's advanced techniques and highly qualified medical professionals.

Hair transplant procedure types vary, each catering to specific patient needs and hair loss patterns. The procedure's versatility is one of the reasons why it has gained significant popularity among those wanting to combat hair loss. The two most common procedures are Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT) and Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE).

FUT involves removing a strip of tissue from the back of the scalp, from which hair follicles are harvested. These follicles are then implanted into the balding areas. On the other hand, FUE involves individual removal and transplantation of hair follicles, offering less scarring and a quicker recovery time.

The hair transplant procedure variations are designed to suit different hair loss patterns, scalp conditions, and patient preferences. Some variations include Direct Hair Implantation (DHI), where hair follicles are implanted one by one directly to the thinning area that needs to be covered. Each hair follicle is placed in a specific direction, angle and depth, thanks to the DHI patented tool, providing 100% natural results and maximum viability.

The hair transplant procedure advancements in Turkey have been phenomenal, making the country a preferred destination for patients worldwide. These advancements not only include new techniques but also innovations in technology and equipment used in the procedure. For instance, the use of high-powered microscopes for follicle extraction, ensuring minimal damage and higher success rates.

Furthermore, hair transplant procedure innovations have led to less invasive methods, shorter recovery times, and more natural-looking results. As a result, people experiencing hair loss can now choose from a variety of effective and affordable solutions.

In conclusion, understanding the hair transplant procedure types, their variations, advancements, and innovations is crucial in making an informed decision about your hair restoration journey. Turkey, with its advanced medical facilities and expertise, continues to be at the forefront of these developments, providing top-notch hair transplant services to thousands of satisfied patients each year.

Unraveling the Details: An In-depth Analysis of Hair Transplant Procedure Steps in Turkey

The hair transplant procedure steps in Turkey are marked by meticulous attention to detail and adherence to internationally recognized standards. As one of the leading destinations for hair restoration, Turkey is renowned for its comprehensive and methodical approach to hair transplant procedures.

The hair transplant procedure explanation begins with a thorough consultation. This critical step allows the medical professional to understand the patient's hair loss pattern, assess their scalp, and discuss their expectations. It also gives the patient the opportunity to ask questions, ensuring they are fully informed about the process.

Next in the hair transplant procedure details is the preparation phase. This involves shaving the donor area, usually at the back of the head, where hair follicles will be harvested. Anesthesia is then administered to numb the area and ensure the patient's comfort throughout the procedure.

The extraction phase follows, where individual follicles or small groups of follicles are carefully extracted using specialized tools. This step requires precision and expertise to ensure the follicles are not damaged and remain viable for transplantation.

The next in the hair transplant procedure steps in Turkey involves making tiny incisions in the recipient area, where the extracted follicles will be implanted. This step is critical and requires a keen understanding of hair growth patterns to ensure a natural-looking result.

Post the implantation, a thorough hair transplant procedure analysis is conducted to assess the success of the procedure. This involves inspecting the implanted area to ensure the follicles are securely in place, and there are no signs of infection or other complications.

Finally, patients are provided with detailed aftercare instructions. These include advice on washing the scalp, managing discomfort or swelling, and what to expect during the healing process. Adhering to these instructions is crucial to ensure the success of the hair transplant procedure.

The hair transplant procedure standards in Turkey are high, with a focus on patient safety, comfort, and satisfaction. The entire process is designed to be as seamless and stress-free as possible, demonstrating why Turkey is a preferred destination for those seeking to restore their hair.

In conclusion, the hair transplant procedure steps in Turkey are comprehensive, methodical, and adhere to high international standards, providing patients with confidence in their journey towards hair restoration.

The Transformation Journey: Understanding the Procedure, Results, and Outcome of Hair Transplant in Turkey

The desire for a fuller, thicker mane has led many individuals to consider a hair transplant procedure transformation, particularly in Turkey. Renowned for its state-of-the-art medical facilities and expert specialists, Turkey has become a popular destination for individuals seeking hair transplant procedures. In this section, we aim to provide a comprehensive outlook on the hair transplant procedure, its results, and outcome, as well as the care required post-procedure.

The hair transplant procedure transformation is a journey that begins with a one-on-one consultation with a skilled specialist. The specialist evaluates the patient's hair loss pattern, discuss their desired outcome, and formulate a personalized treatment plan. The procedure typically involves transplanting hair follicles from a donor area (usually the back or sides of the head) to the balding or thinning areas.

The hair transplant procedure results can vary significantly among individuals, depending on various factors such as the severity of hair loss, the number of hair follicles transplanted, and their overall health. However, most patients report significant improvements in the density and appearance of their hair within a few months post-procedure. It's worth noting that patience is key when awaiting hair transplant procedure results, as the newly transplanted hair follicles need time to adapt to their new location and begin producing hair.

The hair transplant procedure outcome is not just about physical transformation; it also brings about a boost in self-confidence and overall wellbeing. However, to maintain the hair transplant procedure outcome, patients must commit to a lifetime of proper hair care. This includes maintaining a healthy diet, abstaining from smoking and alcohol, and using hair products recommended by their specialist.

Post-procedure care is crucial to the success of a hair transplant session. This includes following the specialist's instructions on wound care, taking prescribed medications, avoiding strenuous activities, and attending follow-up appointments for scalp check-ups and hair growth assessment.

In summary, a hair transplant session in Turkey is an investment in oneself. It is a journey that goes beyond achieving a fuller head of hair. It's about rejuvenating one’s image, and most importantly, regaining self-confidence. By understanding the hair transplant procedure transformation, results, and outcome, and by committing to diligent post-procedure care, individuals can ensure they achieve the best possible results from their hair transplant session.

Understanding the Variations, Advancements, Benefits, and Care Details of Hair Transplant Procedures in Turkey

Hair transplant procedures have come a long way since their inception. Especially in Turkey, advancements in hair transplant procedures have made it a sought-after destination for those seeking to restore their youthful look. The hair transplant procedure variations in Turkey are diverse, catering to the unique needs of each patient.

The advancements in hair transplant procedures in Turkey have significantly improved the outcomes of these treatments. With state-of-the-art technology and innovative techniques, the hair transplant procedure in Turkey now guarantees more natural-looking results, a higher success rate, and minimal downtime. It's not just about regaining lost hair; it's about restoring confidence and improving the quality of life.

The hair transplant procedure benefits are numerous. Apart from restoring hair, these procedures can also enhance one's self-esteem and confidence, which may have been affected by hair loss. The success rate of hair transplant procedures in Turkey is remarkably high, thanks to the expertise of the surgeons and the use of advanced technologies.

Understanding the hair transplant procedure details is crucial for anyone considering this treatment. The procedure involves the extraction of hair follicles from a donor area, usually the back of the scalp, and transplanting them into the balding area. The process is performed under local anesthesia, ensuring the patient's comfort throughout the procedure.

Post-procedure care is also an essential part of the hair transplant journey. Hair transplant procedure care involves specific measures to ensure the longevity and success of the treatment. This includes taking prescribed medications, avoiding strenuous activities, and following a healthy lifestyle.

In Turkey, the hair transplant procedure variations cater to different types of hair loss and the patient's personal preferences. Whether it's the traditional strip method or the advanced follicular unit extraction (FUE), the choice is vast. Each procedure has its unique benefits and considerations, making it essential for every patient to consult with their surgeon before making a decision.

In conclusion, the advancements, benefits, and care details of hair transplant procedures in Turkey make it a leading destination for this transformative procedure. Understanding these aspects can help prospective patients make an informed decision and maximize the results of their hair transplant journey.

[privateanxieties]

Peter Parker goes to the dentist

Summary: Going to the dentist when he has superpowers is enough of a hassle, but when he can’t explain the origin of his injuries it becomes an entire situation. Luckily, the doctor he picked is trustworthy. And competent. And pretty.

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x Reader (she/her); fluff, flirting.

Words: 5.1K

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It's the most ordinary of Wednesdays: no one schedules appointments bright and early in the middle of the week, freeing her to relax with tea and the book that took ages to pluck from the library's shelves. The mistake of thinking a private practice would afford more leisure has led to an existence defined by work and sleep, and she isn't even sure she remembers how to enjoy reading as an activity. The chance to figure it out passes by quickly, however, when a knock is heard at her office door. Her assistant, Stephanie, announces a walk-in patient with an emergency. Professionalism keeps her from grumbling her way to the front desk, tea abandoned and book stuffed back into a random drawer that she suspects will become its permanent resting place.

Her disappointment doesn't matter very much when her eyes fall upon the man in the waiting area - someone else is having a worse time than she is. Jaw and mouth abundantly bloody, the only parts of his face left visible are his eyes and forehead. The bundle of napkins he's holding up serves only to mask the disaster she'll be entrusted to fix.

Stephanie provides little detail of his condition other than constant twitching and a concerning level of secrecy as to the origin of the injury.

"He said he'll speak to you.", is what she whispers none-too-discreetly. The waiting room is too small and her assistant too freaked out.

Along with a warning she'll stand by in case of anything, Stephanie mouths a 'good luck' and retreats to her tasks.

Turning on her heel with focused intent, she approaches the brown-haired man slouching in one of the chairs, noticing his disheveled appearance and overall sulking demeanor. Maybe he got into a fight.

"Sir? If you'll follow me?", she requests gently, surprised by the speed of his reaction. At once he looks up, standing with no difficulty and pinning her with his eyes: slightly wild and off-kilter, but attentive. At least he's not concussed.

Once inside the privacy of the office, she motions for him to have a seat in the examination chair while she scrubs in, expecting that he'll divulge the nature of his injury; yet he doesn't so much as remove the soaked napkins from his face. She decides on a different approach.

Taking a seat herself, she pushes the tool tray aside and removes the surgical mask, a small smile forming once she notices just how nervous he looks.

"What's your name?"

What he mumbles from beneath the napkins sounds too much like Peter to be anything else, and he confirms with a nod when she double checks.

"Hi Peter. Can you show me what hurts?"

He doesn't move to oblige the request, instead staring into her eyes with remarkable intensity before he replies with a question of his own.

"Does doctor-patient confidentiality apply to dentists?"

The way he says it, muffled and broken, beckons laughter forward and it's only reigned in by decorum and practiced solemnity. Still, smiling is unavoidable.

"All medical providers have to follow HIPAA. If you're asking whether you can trust me, then the answer is yes."

Moments later, the hand he's holding to his face moves away, tissues bunched up between bloody fingers. Come to think of it, there's blood running down his neck as well, staining the collar of the unluckily white henley. He must've taken quite a tumble, she thinks, but the assumption is cut short by the sight revealed to her.

The state of his face clues her in to two things: the injury is internal, as there are no marks or cuts she can see on his face, and his mouth must be in pretty bad shape for so much blood to be produced. She has no idea how he appears unbothered. He must be in tremendous pain. Her lips press together subtly.

"What happened to you?"

"Is that strictly necessary to answer?", he returns quietly, and she isn't sure she likes the suspicion he regards her with.

"Hey, I'm not asking to judge. I'm asking so I know how to help you. I need to know how this happened, so I can watch out for things like nerve damage, sinus infection, damaged blood vessels - it's not just teeth I look at.", she explains calmly.

He seems persuaded, but remains guarded in the story he offers.

"Let's just say I uh - approached the ground with accelerated velocity and now… I think I might be a few teeth short of a full set."

"How did you fall?"

Again, he says nothing. A statue might provide better cooperation.

"And this… sudden inertia - it targeted your mouth specifically? You don't have any other injuries on your face."

Repeated silence and the avoidance of eye contact prompt a deep sigh to leave her chest. She could refuse him treatment if he doesn't provide the details of his condition, under the very reasonable concern that he's putting them both at risk of improper treatment.

But, he doesn't seem like a sketchy person. Overly avoidant and weary? Sure. Involved with nefarious people or dealings? Not really, if her instincts serve her.

"Ok. Lie back in the seat and let me have a look?"

Thankfully, he stops resisting and does as asked, handing her the ball of soaked napkins when she holds her hand out for them. Disposing of them and scrubbing in once more, she turns on the overhead light and the small flat screen TV fixed on the ceiling for the patients' comfort. Taking a seat herself, she grabs the small mirror tool and leans forward. Peter doesn't open his mouth right away.

"Just - I need you to know. If you see some weird stuff, could you try your best to ignore it?", he mumbles, visibly trying to move his lips minimally.

She pauses but does not lean back.

"I've seen a lot of weird stuff. Won't even phase me - promise."

Well.

Perhaps she has seen some weird stuff in her time, but nothing quite like this. He is indeed missing one molar and two incisors, among other damaged teeth that have either been chipped or severed in half. She wants to ask whether someone put his head through a wall, or if he's been in some kind of freak accident that only targeted his mouth, but she holds off on account of wanting him to relax.

She continues her examination, on the lookout for weird stuff as he put it. It's several minutes later that she pulls away, having cleaned up as much blood as possible and come to a conclusion on what needs to be done to fix the damage.

"Well, Peter… I won't sugarcoat this. You're looking at quite a few procedures. You have three missing teeth: two incisors on your mandibular arch and a molar on your maxillary. Your lower left canine has a nerve exposed - which, frankly, I'm not sure how you're not howling in pain right now. And there's secondary damage to four other teeth; chips, cracks, nerve damage from mechanical shock, but I'll need an X-ray to know for sure. And you have a cavity, but I don't think you got that today."

The silence that follows is normal in her line of work, especially when the news is this bad. She's been on the receiving end of some terrible information of the medical variety herself. She knows what people's first thoughts usually are.

"That's - that sounds pretty bad. Right? It is bad, isn't it?", he asks, likely to soothe himself by hoping she'll say no.

"It's nothing that can't be fixed, so that's a positive. But there is a lot of damage that I can't fix in one go. The best I can do right now is take care of the exposed nerve and make sure the other problems don't get worse before treatment. I can seal the cracks in your teeth and make sure the nerve damage isn't unmanageable until a future appointment."

Peter appears to consider her words carefully for a few moments, and she finds herself feeling a sliver of what he must be feeling. It's the part of the job that sucks the most, watching people weigh their options against their possibilities.

"And uh, this is going to cost how much to fix?"

Yes, exactly the part she hates. Despite not having gone into dentistry to get rich, she's been struggling since the beginning to keep costs to what they now are - more affordable than other clinics in the borough, yet still outside the range of what people can afford on an average wage. She thought having a private practice would enable her to make financial choices that others didn't want to make, and to a degree, that was true. There's no reason that an extraction should cost several hundred dollars, but she never realized cement would be this exorbitantly priced. They were all a cartel - the manufacturers and distributors of medical equipment were the real decision makers in this business, and cutting costs would always have to come from her own earnings. She's cut just about all she could, and still the cost for Peter's medical bills would be…

"For this session, I reckon around eight hundred and thirty dollars. I need to extract the nerve from your canine, reconstruct the tooth so it's not exposed anymore, seal 5 cracks in four teeth - that's fillings for each one - and immobilize the ones that have nerve damage so they don't worsen until they're treated. With the anaesthesia, that'll come up to just around nine hundred.", she explained.

It's a few seconds before Peter says something that baffles her.

"Well, I guess we can do without that last one."

"I'm sorry?"

"It won't do much good on me."

"The anaesthetic? Peter, these procedures are not a walk in the park and I need you to be still and calm. I can't pull out a nerve with you writhing in the chair.", she tries reasoning, assuming he's trying to either be brave or cut back on the total cost and possibly a bit of both.

Yet when he meets her eyes, the brown-haired man seems to have found a resolve that escaped him until now.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality, right?"

She nods once, uncertain.

"Well, doc - unless you have some sort of elephant tranquilizer, which would be great if you did, then it won't be much help. The gas makes me dizzy and nauseous but it doesn't take away the pain, and the shot just kinda stops working after a minute of two. So unless you wanna stop every two minutes to give me a new one, I guess we're in a bit of a pickle. The wonders of superpowers.", he speaks candidly yet grimly.

Oh.

So that's why he was so cagey and weird. And why there's no outer damage on his face. And why he wouldn't say how he ended up like this. And - and - maybe she's freaking out a little bit.

"Did I lose you?"

His questions snaps her attention like a wire and she blinks heavily to refocus. He seems amused, but the grimace on his face cuts into what might be a humorous moment.

"Uh - no. No, that's… that's fine. Superpowers.", she breathes out.

"Yeah."

"What - what kind of…?"

"The kind that get me in trouble.", he answers curtly. It's obvious he won't offer more information, and to be completely fair, he doesn't have to. It's up to her to be professional and do her job, and that includes reigning in obnoxious curiosity.

"Right. Well. I don't have any - elephant tranquilizer, was it? But there is the possibility of giving you a general anaesthetic. You'll be completely under, like surgery. Have you tried that before?"

"Haven't had to, if I'm honest. Things just kind of… fix themselves. Or they did. Apparently I can heal a broken bone but not a broken tooth, which is weird 'cause teeth are also bones.", he jokes.

"Your medical knowledge is impressive.", she gives it right back.

A small pained chuckle is Peter's response, and after that, he nods with a sigh, saying that he wants to give it a go. She gets up from the chair and turns off the overhead light, announcing that she'll go get the nurse, but Peter stops her with a hand around her wrist.

"No, no. She can't - I can't have anyone else know. Please. Can you do it yourself?"

"I can, but I'd really be more comfortable if there was someone else in here to monitor you while you're under. I only have one pair of eyes."

His hesitation persists, and she tries for compromise.

"She doesn't have to know anything. I just need her to assist me. It'll be like any other patient."

"Ok. Ok, I trust you.", he relents, letting go of her wrist and mumbling a quick apology for getting handsy.

With a reassuring smile, she asks him to relax and leaves the room in search of Stephanie, updating her on the situation and getting herself ready. Taking a seat in the waiting area, she calms her nerves with a few deep breaths.

This is new and different, and not entirely lacking difficulty. She's never tended to a superpowered individual, but she isn't completely unfamiliar with them. To be fair, everyone in the city has had some contact with the extraordinary. Living in New York comes with its own interesting challenges, sometimes of the life-threatening kind. Making it to work in this city is more of a conundrum than it is in other places, not least of all because of the regular clashes of superhumans.

Chaotic and random, her own experience saw the ground underneath simply disappearing on the way to work one morning. An explosion had gone off underneath the intersection at 38th St. and Sixth Avenue, when she was barely two minutes away from her building.

It's been two years and change, and the memory is no less vivid; neither is the striking red and blue of the material she was clinging to mid-air, uncertain whether she was dead. She still feels the motion of the glide in her dreams sometimes, a jolt and swing that took her breath away. It was only upon landing on solid ground that she realized her breathing was labored from blood loss and traumatic injury. It had almost been the end.

There is a person in her office whom she knows nothing about other than what he's been willing to reveal. Superpowers.

No, no - the odds are astronomical.

Deciding on going through with the proposed treatment, she returns to the room to see her assistant preparing for the procedure, and Peter tapping away at the edge of the chair in a broken rhythm. She notices him tense up as she approaches silently, despite having his back to her.

Superpowers.

"Ready?", she tries with a smile. She wants to appear as composed as possible and transmit that confidence to him, but it feels like he sees through it.

"I am. Are you?", Peter returns quietly.

She glances briefly at Stephanie's turned back, and for a moment thinks that maybe she should've handled this without her aid.

"Yep. Let's run through some questions first before we get started."

He hums inquisitively.

"Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?"

"No, no allergies."

"Are you on any medication right now?"

"I wish."

"Any chronic or acute illnesses?"

"Is being a dumbass acute or chronic?"

She fixes him with a look that falls just a little short of stern, but then she notices that Stephanie is ready with the general anaesthesia and decides to lighten the atmosphere.

"Depends. Has this condition lasted longer than three months?" she asks to humor him.

"Considerably longer, doc."

"Then I'm afraid it falls under chronic. Requires prolonged medical attention and treatment."

"Or just a good smack upside the head.", he suggests, and from his tone and overall body language, she notices how nervous he really is. He's trying to distract himself, but he's also distracting her, and that is not good.

"From personal experience, I think kindness might go a longer way in terms of helping someone get back on the right track.", she says with finality.

It's funny - she's never gotten this wordy with a patient before, and she's pretty sure she's never gotten a look like that from one either. Peter has fallen silent, but he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and as her gaze drifts to his hands, she realizes they're still covered in blood. That's not good. Twitching hands covered in blood summon unwelcome memories, but instead of reaching for a napkin to offer him, instinct has her reaching out to place her palm over his.

The words come out of nowhere, like it isn't her saying them.

"You'll be ok. I've got you."

His fingers barely close around her own before Stephanie clears her throat and the moment shatters into a million pieces. Thank God someone kept their wits about them, because that was the most unprofessional she's ever been in her entire life. Her hand burns as she pulls it back, and the back of her neck feels cold.

She's so stunned she doesn't speak again until Peter is successfully under anaesthesia and Stephanie is looking too closely at what she's doing. Not her fault - it is the very thing an assistant is supposed to do, but she made a promise she'd keep his secret.

"Steph, would you please turn the news on? Haven't watched them in forever.", she asks without looking up.

A few moments later the volume on the television is turned up and she starts to feel even more relaxed, her mind now completely devoted to only one thing. She comes to regret her request some twenty minutes later, when Stephanie makes a comment that gives her pause.

"Damn, look at that. Poor guy got slammed with a bulldozer."

"What?" she asks, not completely registering the meaning.

"Spidey. They just showed him get wrecked, square in the face. They're playing it on repeat, look - ", Stephanie says, turning the volume up even louder.

A controlled exhale leaves her lips. The footage shown on the news is so brutal it's almost unwatchable. He goes flying and is out for the count for who knows how long, really? One second feels like forever, seeing him like that.

"That's not a bulldozer.", she remarks, somewhat dazed.

"Huh?"

"The thing that hit him. It was an asphalt compactor."

"Well, whatever it was, that must've sucked. Happened like, two hours ago. Do you think he's dead?" Stephanie asks.

Hm. No. No, she doesn't think so. Otherwise she'd get her license revoked for operating on dead people.

Jesus fucking Christ. Spider-Man is in her office, out cold, and she has her fingers in his mouth. The thing she does every day is suddenly weird, like an entity deconstructed it and put it back together on a smoke break. Superpowers.

"I'm sure he's fine.", she finally answers Stephanie's question, pulling herself together.

"Just horribly disfigured probably.", her assistant frowns.

Hm. No, not disfigured either. Quite pretty actually. Fuck. It's surreal to know what he looks like. It's surreal to be the one to help him now. Granted, what she's doing is hardly comparable. Anyone could fix his teeth, while she would've died if not for him.

She's too affected to say anything else for the rest of the procedure. More than two hours later, everything is done, and she leans back in her chair with a sigh. There's some pain in her lower back that reminds her she's got physio tonight, but most of all it reminds her that all of this is a strange turn of fate. It's been a year - she hasn't seen him since and she thought she'd never see him again, especially not like this.

"Do you want me to wake him up?" Stephanie asks.

"No. No, I'm ok to do that. Thank you, Steph."

"I'll go get the papers ready."

"No. That's not necessary. I mean, the patient file, yes. But no invoice."

"Uhh… are we doing things off the books now?" Stephanie jokes, but there is an edge of nervousness to her tone.

"Yeah, I figured I'd turn to a life of crime just now. No - I'm just not charging him.", she explains while cutting off the anaesthesia.

"Ok? I mean, you're the boss."

With that, the other woman leaves the room, and she's left to wonder how long it'll be before he wakes up. The average recovery time for this type of sedation is around thirty minutes. Keeping an eye on the clock, she remembers that his fingers are still covered in dried blood and wonders if she'd overstep.

He did it for you, she thinks.

The memories surface involuntarily, and this time she doesn't shake the images away, letting herself be lost to the sights and sounds of 38th Street, over a year ago. The ground disappeared, and she was falling before she had time to scream. Something stopped her descent none-too-gently, dislocating her shoulder and making pain bloom violently all along her spine. She hadn't yet felt the gash in her thigh that severed an artery, and even once back on solid ground, she kept staring at it without feeling anything. Another pair of hands wrapped the wound tightly, the sticky and white material getting soaked red in moments. The clock was running on her life, and she couldn't even focus. She was entirely elsewhere.

The blood on her hands was hard to think of as her own, and seeing it running down her leg and onto concrete in such quantities made it even harder. She saw blood every day, and yet she was paralyzed. Not a sound left her mouth.

And then those hands that worked so hard to keep her alive caught her own shaking ones, squeezing them firmly and breaking through the haze.

You'll be ok. I've got you.

By the time everything poured in and overwhelmed her, she was already in the back of the ambulance. She never even got to thank him.

Peter begins to stir only seven minutes in. His lashes flutter about delicately, brushing over the tiniest white scar just above the apple of his cheek. Was it from that day, or any of the million other days he put his life on the line for complete strangers? She's too in her head while wiping his fingers with a damp cloth to notice exactly when he opens his eyes, but when she looks up next, he's staring right into her soul. It's him who breaks the tension only she appears to be feeling.

"Think that might be the best nap I've ever had.", he mumbles somewhat adorably, but also… attractively? His voice is considerably deeper than it was before and Jesus Christ, she's hitting on a patient and needs to stop right now.

"Everything went well.", she announces. It's clipped and awkward, and she trailed off with no further explanation as if that was any sort of acceptable bedside manner. She rushes to supply the rest of the information, but Peter beats her to it.

"Knew it would."

"How?"

God - was she stammering now?

"Cause you said it would. Said you have me."

It's clear that while he seems to have an easier time talking than the average person, he's still a little out of it and she doesn't want to hear what else he might say under the influence of drugs or she might burst into tears. Some medical professional.

"You should rest a little - mandatory recovery time, superpowers or not."

"How long?" he whines, head lulling back against the seat and eyes closing slowly.

"Let's say, until we get someone here to bring you home. Do you have anyone we can call?"

"Mmm… my aunt. Aunt May. But you don't need to call her, I can get home fine. She worries a lot."

She can imagine. Although, if he won't call her to come pick him up from the dentist, she likely doesn't know about anything worse.

"Ok. But if you're not recovered in half an hour, I'm taking you home myself."

"Bossy."

"Alright, you're still out of it. I won't hold that against you. This one time.", she warns without malice, getting up from her seat and heading towards the door. His voice stops her before she can leave.

"Hope there's multiple times. You're really nice."

Yeah. Definitely out of it.

"Well, if you get into trouble again, you'll know where to find me. Stephanie will be in to check on you shortly."

That's it. That's all she can say before she really has to leave. She makes a beeline for the bathroom and gets there just in time for the first tears to fall, and she feels more than ridiculous for reacting this way. This past year she's thought of him and that day whenever her mind drifted, and each time she ended up more guilty. Grateful, but guilty. There were others who needed his help that day. She's seen the footage more times than she can count. It was chaos everywhere, more than one person could ever handle, and people were crying out for help from all directions. But he stayed with her. He stayed with her for longer than he reasonably should have, because she was unable to help herself in any capacity. His words of reassurance have been playing in her head ever since.

Splashing cold water on her face helps, but now she looks a mess because of all the days a week to wear more makeup than usual, she had to pick today. Who could've thought a boring Wednesday would turn out like this? Fixing herself up as much as possible, she looks at her watch and realizes fifteen minutes have passed in a blink. She needs to check on him if Stephanie hasn't already.

When she returns, Peter is nowhere to be found. She goes in search of her assistant, and it's just then that she hears another voice at the front desk. An argument between Stephanie and her missing patient is ongoing, and the few details she makes out immediately clue her in as to the issue.

"Steph, I got this. Why don't you go prep the office for the next appointment?" she asks quickly, not missing the relief on the blonde woman's face.

She avoids looking at Peter until Stephanie has left the room. It's quiet. Awkward.

"She won't let me pay. Why wouldn't she let me pay?" he asks, sounding much more focused and looking like he didn't just wake up from general anaesthesia.

"Because I told her not to.", she answers evenly.

"Why? Because I was worried about money? I'm not a charity case."

She thought he might be that type of person. Of course the selfless hero who risks everything and battles monsters every other week would think this way. It's insane that people like him exist. She weighs the words she wants to say for a moment or two, but there is no way around it. The look in his eyes is too intense to get away with anything but the truth.

"It's not charity. You saved my life.", she says quietly.

It's somewhat amusing that his first reaction is to get ready to pretend he doesn't know what she's talking about, and she'd like to see what he comes up with, but it's almost noon and enough emotion has scattered her brain. A meat tenderizer might've done less damage.

"You don't have to say anything. I saw you on the news. You got hit in the face with an asphalt compactor."

It's a few seconds before he replies, but this time, he's the one averting his eyes.

"Is that what it's called?"

"Mmhm."

"I'll remember that next time. Wouldn't want to get killed by something and not know what it's called."

"Please don’t.", she interjects before she can stop herself.

"Don't what?"

"Please don't get killed."

"Can't make any promises.", he says with a smile. Then, maybe to break the tension or maybe to be stubborn, he continues. "But I do have to insist. I have to pay you for this."

"Well, I have to insist too. I wouldn't be here to help anyone if you hadn't helped me. This is the least I can do. And don't try to argue, because I went to med school. You won't win."

"I was right. You are bossy.", he quips back, smiling a little too wide and wincing from the likely still sore jaw.

Did he call her that again to see what she would do? Because she isn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Only with mouthy patients."

"Yeah? What about with non-patients?", he volleys back easily.

Is he - ? The look on his face certainly seems to suggest it.

"Depends. Are you asking what I think you're asking, or are you still a little dizzy?" she teases lightly.

"You know the answer to that."

"Yeah, but I want to hear you say it."

Peter sighs like he's been told he has to empty out a swimming pool with a bowl.

"You won't let me pay you for your services. Will you at least let me take you out for dinner?"

Her face falls like she's just been told the same thing. Why would she ever think he’d -

"Fuck. That was - it's not a quid pro quo. That's not what I meant. You're uh… you're really pretty, and obviously smart, and maybe this is uh - inappropriate - but I'd like it if you said yes. But you don't have to, and I wouldn't blame you. I always put my foot in my mouth.", he fumbles adorably.

No. Not adorably. Ugh. This is the third time she's thought he was adorable. Saying no at this point would be a loss for them both, if he really means what he said. Shit. Spider-Man just called her pretty.

"Please don't put any more things in your mouth. I just fixed everything.", she says, watching him sigh again, though much more subtly this time.

"Hey, it's ok. I understand, it's not like -"

"You can pick me up after seven."

That he lights up like a Christmas tree is just another thing. Another thing to think about on this day of endless swarming thoughts and conflicting emotions, and another one to add to a small but promising list of qualities under the name Peter. Next to his name, after she gives him her phone, is a spider web emoji and a…

"This is a tractor.", she says with a raised brow.

His boyish smile immediately gets moved to the top of the list.

"Yeah, they didn't have an asphalt compactor. Probably low demand for them."

"Probably more now that people know you're vulnerable to them.", she half-jokes, but he shrugs it off lightly.

On his way out the door, he pauses once, mouth already upturned in a sly smirk.

"For what it's worth, maybe getting hit with that thing wasn't so bad after all."

   - fin -

A/N: Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated. Also, this isn’t proofread, so apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes you may have noticed.

[freckle-face-ace]

Portgas D Ace X CisFem Reader

13

A/N - < text > = typed dialogue. 

The room was dark and smelled heavily of cleaning products. Despite the darkness you were enveloped in familiar warmth, though unlike every other night this time your head rested against his chest. You could feel his body rise and fall with the even breaths of his slumber, surprised he wasn't snoring. Shifting you attempted to raise your left hand to rest on his arm that reposed across your chest, stopping with the sharp tug the I.V. implant.

So, it hadn't been a dream. Your beetle was gone and you weren't even aware of the extent of your own injuries.

Ace startled with your movement lowering himself to be face to face with you. He greeted you with a guilty smile, eyes searching your features carefully. You smiled back meekly just happy to see him again.

His lips began to move but you were met with silence. Come to think of it you hadn't actually heard anything since waking. Not Ace's breath, not the movement of the sheets, not even the air moving through the room; just simply nothingness.

Ace saw the panic reflected in your eyes as your heart monitor began to beep at a quickened pace. Quickly he removed his phone from his pocket and opened a notepad app and began to type. Calmly running his fingers through your hair he drew your panicked attention back to his face before turning the phone to you.

<You've ruptured your eardrums. We don't know how permanent it is.>

<I know it's hard to process. Please breathe>

You exhaled the breath you were involuntarily holding and gasped for another. Placing the device aside momentarily Ace cupped your face and forced you to focus on just him. You felt your heart begin to steady as the dull ache of your fingers told you to unclench your balled up fists. A new wave of white hot pain rolled through your head.

"It hurts." you murmured squeezing your eyes shut.

Ace's warmth left your side; you opened your eyes to see him vanish from the room. Seconds later he reentered with a nurse. She moved to your side fiddling with the tube attached to your hand. Your gaze shifted to Ace as he typed a message out on his phone.

<Morphine. You'll be able to relax soon.>

The fear in your eyes was nearly heart shattering for the raven. But he smiled calmly letting his thumbs pad over your cheeks hoping to give you some comfort as a fuzzy warmth spread from your hand through the rest of your body. You hadn't noticed the nurse leave the room while you focused on your boyfriend's freckles.

<If you get tired sleep, I'll be right here>

You nodded wanting to speak but it felt strange to know sounds you couldn't hear would be leaving your lips.

                                                                                                 _______________

It took a few days to feel somewhat normal and get moved to a different floor.

Ace had gone to get something to eat in the cafeteria while your morning shift nurse, Michael entered to change your bedding and help you bathe. This was the first time you'd have a shower in the hospital and you were not a fan.

<I'm fine really I can wait until later.> you typed on the tablet Ace brought from home.

<It's standard procedure. I'm afraid you don't get much say.> the nurse typed back.

Your real issue was that he was extremely attractive aside from being a complete stranger and opposite gender. You knew he was a medical professional but your medicated mind only intensified your chronic stubbornness. He huffed scooping you out of the hospital bed after carefully removing your IV and monitor.

"Noooo." You whined out loud settling in the wheelchair.

Ace entered and spoke to Michael before giving you an inquisitive look.

"He's trying to get me naked." You slurred your words unknowingly, a side effect of your hearing loss.

Your freckled raven chuckled at how adorably upset you were over a bath; it reminded him of Luffy. Crossing your arms you puffed your cheeks at his reaction, you were serious. He spoke again to the other male and approached you, wheeling you into the bathroom before exiting.

Ace returned with a towel, clean hospital gown and undergarments along with the tablet.

"I'll wait." You murmured.

He shook his head and grinned mischievously, <I'll help you instead of Mike>

Heat exploded across your face; you didn't know what could be worse Ace or a stranger bathing you.

<I've seen you naked.> the raven deadpanned at your mortified expression.

You snatched the tablet unsure if you could keep yourself from yelling, <Not in such a compromising way!>

<Y/N. Why are you being so impossible?> He looked at you sternly. 

Your bottom lip jutted out involuntarily. You weren't used to giving up control and having or needing help to do everyday tasks. A warm kiss to your forehead followed by your nose made your lips curve into a smile.

"Damn you." You blurted louder than intended.

<It'll be quick and painless.> he winked before helping you out of the chair and onto the stool in the shower.

You tugged the rubber band out of your hair allowing it to cascade around your face while Ace untied your gown and pushed it down your shoulders. He turned on the detachable shower head and began washing your hair while you closed your eyes and enjoyed having his fingers massage your scalp.

A small smile bent his lips watching you visibly relax under his touch. His eyes trailed down breath hitching once he caught sight of the massive bruise staining your skin from your left shoulder, between your breasts and curving around your right side. The smile he'd been holding falling to a frown as his eyes moved over you nicked up hands resting on the hospital gown bunched up in your lap.

"Ace." Your small voice drew his attention back to your face, "It's ok."

Even as you sat before him littered with injuries and deaf you tried to comfort him. You knew he was still wrestling with the unnecessary guilt laid upon himself for keeping you home passed your planned departure time. There wasn't an ounce of you that blamed him. In fact over the past days you'd told him many times.

He kissed your forehead again feeling a little less anxious and continued with your bath.

In the afternoon Thatch and Grace arrived to be present for your appointment with the ENT, Dr. Swepman. After taking an in depth look at your injuries and running a few tests he sat with all of you to talk about your recovery.

Ace typed out the conversation while you looked on impatiently.

"Right now we're looking at nearly 100% loss of hearing in both ears. Even if it's a loud sound it's likely she won't hear it." the doctor ran a hand through his sandy locks, "First I'd recommend a service dog."

"She has one," Ace replied referring to Kuma, "for anxiety."

"Is there a chance she could regain any ability to hear?" Grace questioned from your left side.

"Crazier things have happened, but I don't think it's very likely. Implants are an option down the road, right now her insurance won't cover the procedure and she needs to heal." he paused, "The hospital has connections with a nonprofit that helps people adjust after the loss vision or hearing. I've contacted them to set her up with an ASL teacher. The sooner she learns the better."

You sighed, frustrated with having everyone speaking as if you weren't sitting right fucking in front of them.

<Your sign language tutor will be here in a few hours.> Ace typed.

You made the most ironic face you could muster and gave him a sharp thumbs up, not in any mood to see any more people. It was exhausting and painful just to be awake.

<Don't be like that. I'll learn with you.> the raven offered a heart clenching lopsided smirk.

You couldn't help but slip even further in love with the sweet freckled pirate. What good deeds did you do in a past life that allowed you to have such a man? You pressed your forehead to his smooching his nose.

Thatch and Grace stayed most of the day having lunch and deciding to meet the ASL tutor.

Ace opened the door just as an impressively tall blond stumbled into the room catching himself with his free hand on the foot of your bed. Hazel eyes met your gaze from under his shaggy bangs as a wide friendly smile took over his features. Quickly he brushed himself off and held up a tablet with his other hand.

You chuckled at his slapstick entrance as he typed a message.

<Sorry about that! I've been told I can be a bit clumsy.>

<Are you ok?> you asked.

He gave a sharp nod, <To everyone in the room : My hearing is not impaired but I am mute. Don't be afraid to speak up!>

The boys and Grace introduced themselves and turned to you.

"F/N." You mumbled extending your right arm.

The man excitedly shook your hand and typed a new message on his tablet.

<Wonderful to meet you! I'm Rosinante Donquixote.>

Ace and Thatch shared a surprised look.

[abraxos-and-ataraxia]

Smite My Enemies

Part 1

Pairing: Nesta x Cassian

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: smut!

Summary: Nesta summons a creature to obliterate her enemies, but quickly finds another use for the demon that appears.

HAPPY MONSTERTOBER 😈

Part 2

* * * * *

Nesta set down the chalk, eyeing the symbols she’d drawn on the concrete floor. One mistake, and she could end up as dinner. Or worse.

It wasn’t her first time doing a summoning. She’d called quite a few ghosts, since the poor things were harmless. Though her first attempt taught her the finer points of protective circles. The specter had tried to inhabit her body before Nesta managed to grab the salt.

The carving took her two weeks, but it was worth it for the sense of security in having a permanent protective circle. The only area of concern was her individual summoning symbols, which had to be done in chalk, or some other removable substance. Summonings were one-time-only spells, after all. No shortcuts for the lazy.

Fortunately, Nesta was too well-disciplined to mind. She took pride in being one of the most adept at her craft. Nesta was gifted in a way that most witches could only dream of. But even beyond her power, she was more ruthless, more professional, and more determined than the others. It gave her no short supply of enemies.

Nesta slipped her shoes off by her workbench, collecting an armful of dark candles. She set them around the circle, followed by careful patterns of stones between them. One could never be too careful with demons. And Nesta planned on summoning one of the most powerful that night. She planned on setting a memorable example for any other witches who wanted her head.

The best examples were bloody, Nesta thought with a grin.

She did one final check of the symbols before sitting at the base of the circle, her toes a scant inch from the edge. She hummed softly, snapping her fingers to illuminate all of the candles at once. Immediately, her skin began to buzz. Generations of Archeron women had cast their spells within the house, layering the wards around it and adding their power to the foundations. It lent additional strength to every spell, every hex and ward and summoning. And the feel of it, like a cat curling around her feet, never failed to send a thrill up Nesta’s spine. She blinked, watching the flames jump in response. Connected to the summoning and its circle, she threw her head back and began her incantations.

When she finished, Nesta sucked in a desperate breath, chest heaving from exertion. Already, she was coated in a thin layer of sweat, her body hot from the magic coursing through her veins. She clapped her hands together, and the energy in the room crackled in response, forming a bead of blood-red light in the center of the circle. It spread quickly, tracing over her carved runes and chalk markings, until the ruby glow was brighter than the light of her candles. Then, like a breath of wind had been expelled, the flames were extinguished, leaving Nesta bathed in that strange light.

Along with a dark, hunched figure at the center of her circle.

Nesta watched with bated breath as two membranous wings expanded, stretching the width of her carvings. In the shadows, she glimpsed tangled hair and curling horns. A long, slim tail snaked around its legs, almost serpentine. Its skin gleamed bronze, like a statue come to life.

“Lady Death, why do you call?” the demon asked, its voice rasping over her skin. She shivered at the glimpse of fangs.

“I have need of your services,” she said.

“My services?” The demon lifted its head, straightening its body from a crouch. His body, she mentally corrected, accounting for the considerable member between his legs. He was easily twice her size, his muscular thighs as wide as tree trunks, his biceps as big as her head. His chest, she mused, was the size of a dinner table. More than adequate. Nesta wondered if this demon was overkill, being sent to murder a simpering witch. He seemed far more suited to battlefields, to war with the gods themselves.

But looking at that prodigious length, Nesta supposed she didn’t mind. Perhaps he could kill the witch and then come back so she could look at him for a while. She could pleasure herself to the sight of him. Surely a demon wouldn’t mind.

As though he could sense her thoughts, the demon chuckled. “What is my task?” he asked. “Or am I to remain here, in your cage?”

Nesta smirked, tilting her head to consider him. Perhaps, she mused, she should pleasure herself first, and let him kill the witch later. She watched his wings flex, and the way his length twitched with them. Nesta licked her lips. “What is your name?” she asked. That massive cock was easily the length of her forearm, and not even hard yet. Had she ever seen a male so large?

“Cassian,” the demon replied, stepping forward until his toes reached the boundary she’d carved. Nesta scrambled to her feet, not wanting him to look down at her like something powerless. She was not weak, though her knees wobbled when she saw his penis was rapidly thickening.

“Cassian,” she rolled the name around her mouth, tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes. But his gaze was fixed on her breasts, on the pointed tips teasing at the fabric of her dress. Nesta smirked, watching his irises flash from hazel to ruby and back again. “I called you to make an example of my enemy,” she started, walking around the summoning circle. Cassian turned to keep his eyes on her while she inspected him. The round globes of his ass caught and held her attention, and her grin widened. “But I find that I wish for one more task, as well.”

The demon snarled, exposing sharp canines. “I am no servant. I will perform one task, as required by the summoning.”

“Oh, but the second thing is hardly work,” Nesta purred. “I simply want you to sit there and watch.” Cassian froze, wings flexing again, as Nesta tugged her dress over her head, letting it puddle on the floor. She stepped over it, utterly naked, until she was standing in front of the demon once more. She watched his eyes turn red and stay that way, fixed on the cleft between her thighs. His tail whipped, agitated. “Is this such a difficult task?” Nesta asked.

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent as Nesta sat down again, spreading her thighs wide enough that every inch was exposed to his gaze. The demon could hardly lie, not when his member was bobbing upwards. “Lady Death, you have no other requests?”

“You are to stay there until I am ready for you to smite my enemies,” Nesta breathed, running one finger the length of her slit. Each movement tugged on the demon’s cock, as though an invisible string connected them. “You may do what you wish until I am finished.”

Cassian crouched slowly, bringing his face as close to her exposed cunt as he possibly could. “And what if I wish to touch you, mistress? To taste you?” He growled, watching her draw circles on her sensitive flesh. “To take you?”

“Perhaps you should ask nicely,” Nesta said with a laugh. The sound melted into a low moan when she dipped her finger into her heat.

It wasn’t enough, she thought, panting. How could her hand ever be enough, when there was a perfectly serviceable substitute two feet away. Separated by nothing but glowing runes, Nesta sank two fingers deep inside herself, watching as the demon wrapped one massive hand around his length, stroking himself in time to her slow thrusts.

“Harder,” Cassian demanded, tightening his fist around his head. Her eyes narrowed in on the movement, spotting the bead of precum before the demon smeared his thumb through it.

“No,” Nesta said sweetly, stopping to curl her fingers inside her. Her eyes rolled back, luxuriating in the stimulation as well as the demon’s fierce snarl. She ground her palm against her clit for good measure.

When she opened her eyes again, Nesta grinned at the sight of Cassian gripping his base and glaring at her. “Harder,” he repeated. “Or I’ll break your pathetic wards and do it myself.”

“You forget, Cassian, that the wards only work one way,” she teased, setting a much slower pace than before. “That means I can reach through to touch you, but not the other way around. Threats are hardly a good incentive.”

Cassian growled, pumping himself with one hand as though compelled to follow her pace. His other fist lashed out, bouncing off her protective circle, which had formed a wall of hard air to prevent his escape. Nesta simply laughed, adding a third finger. “What do you want?” the demon asked, desire darkening his tone.

Nesta watched him—the gleaming blocks of muscle, the sharp fangs between plush lips, the slick now coating his shaft and fingers—and she wanted. “I want your cock to rearrange my insides,” she breathed. Cassian groaned, his hand moving faster, in time with her own. “I want your fangs buried in my neck while you’re balls deep.”

The demon clenched his jaw, teeth flashing at her in a silent snarl. She complied, speeding up even more. Cassian threw his head back, huffing like a racehorse. His low groan set her blood on fire. “What else?”

Nesta’s smile sharpened, bright as a dagger. “I want to tie you up and make you leak all over yourself,” she said, filled with vicious satisfaction at how the demon was unraveling. “I want to milk you until you’re begging me to stop.”

Cassian grunted, body jerking suddenly, and then he was spurting his release. Thick white stripes landed on his abdomen, all the way to his chest, which heaved from exertion. Cassian’s eyes locked onto hers, their ruby hue intensifying as he twitched and groaned. She watched him, mouth dry, but his impossible length didn’t seem to shrink or soften. If anything, he appeared harder than before, a little vein throbbing on the underside and demanding to be licked. She grinned, slipping her fingers out and up to circle her clit.

The demon’s nostrils flared. “My mistress has not finished,” he said, not quite a question. He leaned forward on his knees, fingertips just brushing the edge of the wards. “Can I be of assistance?”

Nesta bit back a moan, rubbing fast and furious over her sensitive nub. “Do I look stupid?” she gasped out, thighs trembling as she approached the precipice. “You’re a demon. I’m not releasing the wards so you can eat me out. You might actually eat me.”

“Perhaps next time you will have more faith in me,” Cassian said, a smirk curling over his lips like smoke. His tail curled, the end twitching like a cat’s. “I swear to come when you call.”

Nesta arched her back slightly, so close it ached. But she couldn’t quite get there. She sobbed through her teeth, plunging three fingers back into her slick channel. Her other hand worked at her breast, plucking at the tender tip.

The demon watched all the while, ignoring his cock bobbing for attention. Instead, Cassian lowered his face even further, until his nose was mere inches from her heat. He blew softly, and to Nesta’s surprise, the wards allowed the air to pass through and tease her pussy. She hissed, and Cassian did it again, warm breath hitting damp skin.

“You smell,” he said, pausing on a ragged inhale. “Delicious.”

Her stomach clenched, and Nesta swallowed harshly, absorbed in the sight of the demon’s dark head and curling horns between her thighs. She could almost imagine him passing through the wards to devour her. Teeth and tongue and claws, all focused on wringing pleasure from her. Nesta whimpered, hips writhing desperately.

“Come through the wards, little witch,” Cassian growled. “I just want a taste.”

And despite her better judgement, Nesta was too needy to refuse. She withdrew her hand and thrust her hips forward, just enough for Cassian’s mouth to latch onto her pussy. She discovered his forked tongue when it flickered over her clit, then plunged deep into her cunt, long enough to reach farther than her fingers could. He was rough, wild, greedy. Cassian swallowed every last drop of arousal, as though he’d been starved for centuries. And perhaps he had.

Nesta had never been the subject of such fierce hunger. Never had any male feasting between her thighs with such wild abandon. The edge approached so quickly, she screamed. Her body hurtled into the strongest orgasm she’d ever experienced, her fingers digging into the cement beneath her bowed form.

The demon slowed slightly, tongue curling gently against her walls. He kissed her clit, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked hard. Her throat closed up, and she plunged back into pleasure once more.

When she finally surfaced, Nesta blinked up at the basement ceiling. She craned her neck to see Cassian caressing her inner thighs. He hadn’t eaten her after all, she marveled. At least, not in the bloody sense. Nesta scrambled back, pulling her body to the safe side of the protection circle.

The demon grinned, “Still don’t trust me?”

“Not today,” she laughed lightly. But the demon’s stiff member caught and held her attention. “Perhaps you should come back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be sure to ask nicely,” Cassian purred. “Now, who do I need to kill for you, Queen of Queens?”

[cmkinkbingo2024]

While you're free to definite the prompts however you like, below you will find a basic definition of each of the kinks on offer.

Some of these prompts have a degree of overlap.

If you feel a major kink has been missed that can't be interpreted from these prompts that is stopping you from wanting to sign up (remember there is a free space on all bingo cards), please pop us a message.

Please keep our Safety/Your Kink Is Not My Kink guidance in mind when viewing this list, and that some of these are counted as kinks because they are fandom/writing tropes, rather than real-world kinks.

Abduction

Kidnapping, whether real, imagined, or roleplayed.

Aftercare

After a kink scene or session, aftercare involves actions that help to re-regulate. That might be food, cleaning/bathing, affection, or discussion.

Ageplay

One or more individuals involved pretend to be a different age than they are.

Alpha/Beta/Omega

An alternate universe where people have primary and secondary sexes. The secondary sexes are Alpha/Beta/Omega, and often determine a hierarchy.

Amputation

The removal of limbs whether real, imagined or roleplayed, and/or the sexualisation of amputation/amputees.

Anonymity

Sex with strangers, or other scenarios where participants have a level of anonymity, through other means such as dark rooms, masquerades etc.

Aphrodisiacs

Drugs which induce sexual arousal.

Authority Figures

Scenarios involving individuals with a form of authority, or the sexualisation of those in high-level positions. 

BDSM

Any activity related to the acronym: bondage, domination, sadism and masochism.

Bed Sharing

Sharing a bed, sleeping bag, or other sleeping arrangement, such as the known “hotel only has one bed” trope.

Begging

Sexual use of pleading or bargaining, potentially including kneeling and emotional distress.

Belly Bulge/Cumflation

Belly bulging caused by penetrative sex, large toys or other insertions, or the expansion of the belly due to excessive amounts of semen ingested or deposited.

Biting

Using the teeth to mark or inflict pain/sensation on another. 

Blindfolds

The use of blindfolds to deprive someone of sight, whether professional or makeshift.

Bloodplay

Kink or sex involving interaction with blood, such as cutting, fighting, blood drinking, blood smearing.

Body Worship

Admiring the body of another in some form, such as kissing or licking specific body parts or giving massages. 

Body Fluids

Involving any body fluid such as blood, urine, vomit, semen, secretions, sweat and sometimes faeces.

Body Modification

Modifying the body in some way. This could include permanent modifications such as tattoos or piercings, but also encompasses temporary modifications such as dying hair.  

Body Writing

Writing phrases on the body. Whilst often used to write humiliating or degrading phrases, the writing could also be messages of affirmation for a partner. 

Bondage

The physical restraint/restriction of movement of someone with ropes, chains, mummification or other tools.

Boobjob

The stimulation of a penis or toy with/between breasts or pecs.

Branding/Burning

Using fire or heated objects to mark the skin or cause pain. 

Bratting

Someone behaving like a “brat”, who talks back, “sasses”, pushes boundaries or disobeys rules in a kink/sexual scenario, often overlapping with dom/sub roles.

Breathplay

The restriction and/or control of someone’s breathing, such as through choking or breath-holding.

Breeding Bench

Use of a structure to restrain someone in order for others to have sex with them, often modelled after an item used in commercial dog/farm animal breeding. Sometimes known as a breeding stand.

Breeding Kink

Sexualisation of the possibility of pregnancy, such as sex without birth control and internal ejaculation. Can be linked to actual attempts to cause pregnancy, or separate from it.

Bruises

Bruising of the body, whether purposefully acquired during kink activities or not. 

Bukkake

Multiple people ejaculate on one person, sometimes focusing on someone drinking excess semen.

Caning

Using a cane to strike or threaten someone, often used as a form of punishment.

Cannibalism

The consumption of human flesh by another human, whether real, imagined/allegorical or roleplayed.

Caught in the Act

People caught in a sexual situation, such as being walked in on.

Chastity

Abstaining from sexual contact in some way. This could be enforced with the use of chastity cages or belts, which prevent the genitals from being touched. 

Cheating

Scenarios focused on infidelity or cheating on a partner, including fictional roleplay of such. Distinct from consensual polyamory.

Class Fantasies

Fantasies based around social class, whether real or roleplayed. 

Clothing Kink

Kinks related to items of clothing such as g-strings or bodysuits, or clothing-based scenarios, such as visible panty lines, seeing nipples through clothing, or bulges in jeans. 

CBT/Cock and Ball Torture

A form of impact and pain play focusing on genitalia. This could involve (but is not limited to) striking, stepping on, piercing, splitting, or even removal of the penis and/or testicles. 

Coercion

The use of coercive or manipulative tactics to get someone to agree to sex, such as blackmail, bullying, harassment, sometimes with the use of drink/drugs or other substances to inhibit perceptions.

Collars

Often used in dominant/submissive relationships, collars can symbolise ownership of another, protection/security, or even ownership of one’s self. However, they can appear in plenty of other contexts, like pet play and bondage.

Confined/Caged

The usage of cages or other means to keep an individual in a certain place. 

Contracts

The sexual or kink use of contracts that denote the sexual acts or behaviours permitted or restricted between partners. Sometimes linked to TPE/total power exchange (see below).

Concealed Sex Toys

Sex toys that are concealed in some manner, such as nipple clamps under clothing or remote-controlled anal plugs. 

Costumes

Wearing clothing that would not normally be worn by the individual in daily life, often used to enhance roleplay scenarios. 

Consensual Non-Consent

Usually pre-negotiated roleplay of sexual scenarios that involve rape or coercion, such as ravishment fantasies, rape fantasies, or roleplayed kidnapping scenarios.

Crossdressing

Dressing in clothing that stereotypically belongs to a different gender, sometimes paired with items of clothing that change the appearance of a body, such as breastforms, packers, or binders. 

Cruising/Cottaging

Sexual behaviour often found within gay male communities where specific locations are used as a hookup spot or location to find a sexual partner.

Crying

The sexualisation of tears and/or crying.

Cuckolding

A kink in which one partner in the relationship is the ‘cuck’ and allows their partner to have sex with others, usually as a form of humiliation. They may or may not watch their partner having sex with others.

Danger

Sexualisation of danger or activities that may be dangerous, such as sex while driving, sex an an “enemy”, or in a combat zone.

Daddy/Mommy

The use of parental titles in a sexual context, which can be related to age play or separate from it. Also covers similar titles in other languages, such as Mami/Papi.

Deepthroating

Oral sex involving taking a penis or toy into the throat.

Diapers

The use of adult sized diapers used in a sexual or kink context, which may or may not be related to age play/regression.

Dirty Talk

Talking explicitly during sexual activity. 

Docking

The overlapping of penile foreskins, sometimes inclusive of wider foreskin play.

Dom/Sub

A dynamic in which participants take on the roles of a dominant and a submissive.

Double Penetration

Penetration of more than one orifice at the same time, or being penetrated by two body parts and/or objects in the same orifice. 

Double Anal Penetration

Penetration by two body parts and/or objects at the same time in the anus. 

Double Vaginal Penetration

Penetration by two body parts and/or objects at the same time in the vagina. 

Drugs

Using recreational or prescribed drugs in some form by one or more participant, consensually or otherwise. 

Drunkenness/Drinking

The consumption of alcohol by one or more participant, consensually or otherwise. 

Dry Humping

Sexual sensation sought through clothing, such as rubbing genitals through clothing or rubbing against someone else’s body while one or both parties are clothed.

Dubious Consent

Sexual scenarios where consent is gained in such a way as to not be completely consensual by most definitions. This could include coercion or altered states.

Edgeplay

-Can be used to describe two different forms of kink. Edging is the practice of bringing a person to the brink of orgasm and then stopping, often multiple times. Edgeplay can also be used to encompass acts that are considered to be dangerous, on the ‘edge’ of what is considered safe, sane, and consensual. This may include play which gets close to participants' hard/soft limits. 

Electricity

The use of electricity for physical or sexual stimulation, such as a violet wand, tasers, shock collars or cattle prods. Can include lighting-based spells/magic.

Emotion Play

Kink intended to inspire strong emotions such as crying or laughter, or to toy with the emotions of another. 

Enemas

The use of squirting/hosing water into the anus for cleansing or sexual use. Can also include “douching”, which is a similar term for the act involving a vagina.

Erotic Dance

Dance that is intended to cause arousal, for example stripteases or pole dancing. 

Exhibitionism

Sex or kink with a focus on the acts being performed to an audience or in a manner where an audience may be likely, such as a sex club or in public.

Facesitting

Oral sex or rimming/analingus that involves sitting on a partner’s face.

Feeding

Sexualisation of eating or feeding someone, which may include overfeeding (sometimes called stuffing), and may focus on weight gain.

Feminisation/Sissification

Sexualisation of dressing in feminine clothing, and often being referred to by feminine terms. Whilst those participating are usually men, this still could include those of other genders acting/being made to act in a hyper-feminine manner for sexual purposes. 

Fighting

Sexual or kink use of combat such as wrestling or boxing.

Fisting

The insertion of the whole fist, and sometimes the arm, into the vagina and/or anus.

Food

The sexual use of food, usually distinct from sexualisation of feeding, see above, such as the use of whipped cream during sex, or acts like body sushi (nyotaimori/nantaimori).

Foot Fetish

Arousal derived from the feet of oneself or another. 

Free Use

An individual that is available to provide sexual activity for others at any time. 

Friends With Benefits

Friends who engage in sex without being in an established romantic relationship.

Frottage

The mutual simulation of rubbing penises together, or rubbing a penis against other parts of the body.

Fuck Or Die

A fanfiction trope in which characters must have sex with one another or be killed. 

Fursuits

Costumes used by the furry community in the form of anthropomorphic animals. 

Gags

An object intended to restrict the usage of the mouth, such as purpose-made ball or bit gags, or improvised solutions such as tape or underwear. 

Gender Play

Play involving gender as a central theme, for example participants dressing and acting in a way stereotypically different to their gender. 

Genital Torture

Causing harm to the genitalia in any form, such as slapping/striking, piercing, or inducing uncomfortable sensations, like using ice or deep heat cream. 

Glory Hole

Sexual practice involving a hole in a partition (often a toilet cubicle) where a person can insert their penis for oral or penetrative sex.

Gloves

The usage of gloves in some form, which can be eroticised from the type of material used or the gloves themselves. 

Group Sex

Sexual activity involving multiple participants. 

Guns

Involving guns during sex or kink in some manner. This may include penetration, pistol-whipping, threatening, or even shooting. 

Guro

Involving gore in some way, whether real or roleplayed. 

Hair Pulling

Pulling of hair during kink/sex.

Harem

A sexual scenario where one person has multiple sex partners to service them, sometimes in the context of having many spouses or slaves.

Held Down

Focus on a person being physically restrained by another person/others without the use of additional tools or restraints.

Historical Roleplay

Participants roleplay as people from the past.  

Human Furniture

The treatment of human bodies as inanimate objects, such as seats/stools.

Humiliation/Degradation

Being made to feel embarrassed, ashamed, and/or lesser in some way. This is often verbal, but can also be explored physically, such as by wearing certain clothing, kneeling at a partner’s feet, or being made to act in certain ways. 

Hypnosis/Mind Control

The use of hypnosis or mind control to compelling someone to act upon suggestion or commands, or to create mental ‘triggers’ to cause actions.

Incest

Romantic or sexual interactions between blood relations, whether real or in a pretend/roleplay scenario.

Intercrural Sex

Sex that involves penetrating between the thighs.

Jockstraps

A type of underwear that covers the genitalia but not the backside, with straps around the tops of the thighs and waist, often worn in sports for ease of movement.

Knotting

Sex with a penis or toy that has a knot, inspired by the anatomy of canines, that have a penile knot that swells during sex to keep semen from escaping, increasing the chance of successful pregnancy. Often found within Alpha/Beta/Omega tropes or with non-human characters.

Knife Play

Using knives during sexual scenarios. This could include threatening, cutting, or teasing an individual with a blade. 

Lace

The focus on the textile lace, such as its look and feel.

Leather/Latex

The focus on the textiles leather and latex, such as catsuits, harnesses, gimp masks, or leather chaps.

Lingerie

The focus on underwear or lingerie, such as panties, bras, thongs, garters and hosiery.

Masturbation

Sexual stimulation of a person’s genitals by themselves.

Mechanical/Technological

Sex or kink focused on technology, including sex robots.

Medical Kink

Kink involving real or roleplayed medical scenarios, or nurses/doctors. 

Mirrors

Use of mirrors during kink or sex.

Monsters

Sex or kink scenarios involving monsters, real or roleplayed.

Multiple Orgasms

Sex involving orgasms in quick succession and/or a short refractory period.

Mutual Masturbation

Multiple people masturbating at the same time, potentially watching each other.

Muscles

Sexualisation of fitness, muscles or working out.

Necrophilia

Sexual interaction with dead bodies, whether real or roleplayed.

Nippleplay/Tit Torture

Sexual play focused on the breasts, chest or nipples, whether pleasant or painful play.

Non Consent

-Lack of or denial of consent during sex. See also “Rape” below, but fandom sometimes has a wider or more nuanced use of non-consent that are explored where the two may or may not be used interchangeably.

Obedience

Adherence to the commands or rules set by others in a sex or kink scenario.

Object Penetration

Penetration with an object that is not designed to be a sex toy, such as a bottle.

Objectification

The act of treating another as an object of some form. This could include using a partner as a sex toy, furniture, or something else. 

Omorashi

Sexual pleasure derived from the act of holding in urine until it becomes overwhelming. 

One Night Stand

Sex with a partner, known or a stranger, for one night only.

Oral Fixation

An interest in having items in one’s mouth, such as fingers, food, genitalia, or toys. 

Oral Sex

Stimulation of the genitals with the mouth.

Orgasm Denial/Control

Denying or controlling the orgasm of another in some manner. There are multiple ways to achieve this, ranging from denying stimulation when someone is just about to orgasm (sometimes called edging), using chastity devices, or simply telling another when they can orgasm or not.

Orgies

Group sex involving many people at the same time.

Overstimulation

Performing acts until a person is caused distress by the sensation.

Oviposition

The insertion and/or laying of eggs, through the use of sex toys or monsters.

Painplay

Kink which involves causing harm to another or receiving harm. This could include spanking, whipping, cutting, or electricity. 

Partially Clothed

One or more participants are partially dressed when engaging in sexual activity. 

Pegging/Strap Ons

Using strap-on dildos to penetrate a partner. 

Pet Play

Kink in which participants take on the role of a pet, such as a dog, rabbit, or a cat. 

Punishment

Being punished in some manner for real or roleplayed infractions. This could include impact play such as caning, being made to engage in dull tasks such as writing lines or kneeling in a corner, or having privileges taken away. 

Period Sex

Sex involving any person who is actively menstruating.

Pervertibles

Using items not designed for kink during play, for example a spanking scene using a hairbrush instead of a paddle. 

Phonesex/Epistolary

Sexual activities conducted over the phone. Epistolary refers to the acts taking place through the form of letters, diary entries, emails, etc. 

Pictures/Photos

Taking pictures during sexual activity, or viewing pictures that have been taken of oneself or others. 

Pillory/Stuck in Wall

A form of restraint where someone is trapped in a pillory or similar structure, usually with their genitals exposed. 

Play Piercing

Temporary piercings for sexual or artistic reasons. 

Plushies

Arousal gained from using plush toys in sexual scenarios, such as dry humping, or from the toys themselves. 

Pole Dancing

Dance involving a vertical pole, often used in an erotic context. 

Pony Play

A form of pet play in which a participant takes on the role of a horse. They may wear bridles and other pony gear, and/or participate in activities such as pulling a carriage/cart. 

Pool/Jacuzzi/Bath

Sex in bodies of water.

Porn AU

An alternate universe in which the characters work in the pornography industry. 

Possession/Marking

Involving possessing or having fantasies of possessing another, and/or marking someone to show that claim. Marking could include body modifications such as tattoos, but could also refer to items such as collars, physical markings such as hickeys, or non-permanent modifications like body writing. 

Praise Kink

Arousal derived from praising another or being praised during sex. 

Predicament Bondage

Scenarios involving people who are stuck, such as someone being accidentally tangled up and having their movement restricted and then sexually interacted with. This can also refer to types of bondage designed to put strain on a person and/or challenge them, for example being tied in a position that makes them choose between standing on tiptoes or having a large toy inserted into an orifice. 

Pregnancy

The sexualisation of pregnancy, such as the body and hormonal changes.

Premature Ejaculation

Ejaculation before or soon after engaging in sexual activity, usually with minimal stimulation. 

Primal/Prey

Animalistic sex or kink where participants take on animalistic behaviours, such as growling, biting, chasing and hunting of another person.

Public

Sex or kink in a public place.

Rape

Non-consensual/forced sex.

Religious Kink

Sexualisation of religion, including religious figures, clothing, or imagery. 

Role Reversal

Changing around pre-established dynamics. For instance, a dom/sub couple may take on each other’s usual role. 

Roleplay

Play in which participants take on imaginary roles.

Ropes/Chains

The formal use of ropes such as shibari, manacles and chains or other restraint styles involving improvised tools (cable ties, scarves).

Rough Body Play

The sexualisation of being handled or handling someone else roughly, “manhandling”, or treating/being treated firmly or violently during sex.

Scars/Scarification

Sexualisation of scars, or the act of creating scars through body modification for sexual or kink reasons.

Scat

Play involving excrement. 

Semi-Public Sex

Sex in a place that is semi-public where the risk of being observed is possible but minimal such as in a car in a parking garage, or the concealment of sex acts in a public place such as being touched under a table.

Sensation Play

Kink that focuses on causing and experiencing sensations. This could include ice, hot wax, tickling/feathers, or equipment such as wartenberg wheels. 

Sensory Deprivation

Having senses taken away through use of different implements, such as blindfolds, bondage, or numbing cream. 

Service

Serving another sexually and/or domestically. 

Sex Pollen

The use of drugs or fictional substances, often accidentally, that cause sexual urges that are hard/impossible to resist acting on.

Sex Toys

The use of sex toys such as vibrators, dildos, cockrings, sleeves, love eggs etc.

Sex Machines

The use of mechanical sex toys such as dildo machines that thrust mechanically, milking machines etc.

Sex Show

Sex performed for an audience in an established space such as a sex club.

Sex Work

The act of paying or being paid for sex, such as escort services, sugar babying, or prostitution.

Sexual Slavery

Real or roleplayed unpaid forced sexual labour.

Shaving/Hair Removal

Sexualisation of removing hair from the body or head. 

Shoe Fetish

Sexualisation of shoes in some form. This could include shoe/boot worship, wearing certain shoes during sexual scenarios, or stepping/being stepped on. 

Size Difference

Sexualisation of the difference in size between sexual partners, which could focus on height, weight, or genital size.

Size Kink/Size Queen

Sexualisation or preference for overly small or large genitals.

Smacking/Slapping

Striking another or being struck with an open hand on some part of the body, such as the face or buttocks. 

Smells/Scents

Arousal gained from specific scents, such as perfume or sweat. 

Smoking

Arousal derived from smoking or watching others smoke. Participants could be used as an ashtray, have to light cigarettes/cigars for someone else, or be made to smoke. 

Snuff

Being killed/dying during sex, and/or arousal at the idea of killing or being killed.

Somnophilia/Sleep Sex

Sex with someone who is asleep, or with someone pretending to be asleep.

Sounding

Insertion of tubes or rods into the urethra. 

Spanking/Paddling 

Striking the buttocks of another person with a hand or tool.

Stripping

The sexualisation of clothing removal.

Subspace/Headspace

-During kink scenarios, some participants find themselves in a different state of mind to usual - subspace can be described as relaxing or meditative. Different headspaces can also be entered during types of play like petplay, where participants connect more to the animals they are portraying. 

Subdrop/Domdrop

After some kink scenarios, participants may feel vulnerable or overwhelmed by the emotions and sensations explored during the scenario. 

Suspension

Suspending an individual in the air with the use of rope bondage or hooks/piercings. 

Swinging/Partner-Swapping

The consensual swapping of sex partners, done between established couples.

Tantric Sex

Sometimes called yogic sex, where the focus is on slow/extended sexual interaction, control of arousal and orgasm.

Tattoos/Tattooing

Arousal derived from seeing tattoos on another or oneself, as well as the act of tattooing or getting tattoos. 

Teasing

Sexual play that involves arousing a partner, prolonging gratification.

Temperature Play

Sex or kink involving temperature, such as the use of ice during sex, or having sex for warmth.

Tentacles

The sexual use of real or imagined tentacles, such as sex toys modelled after tentacles or involving fantasy creatures/monsters.

Threesome

Three people having sex together.

Tickling

The stimulation of a person using light touches or toys such as feathers in order to cause an automatic laugh response.

Topping from the Bottom

Refers to a “bottoming” sexual partner (the partner receiving sexual penetration) taking on a “top” or “dominant” role, usually in the face of this dynamic being unexpected.

Torture/Interrogation

Real or roleplayed scenarios where pain, sensory deprivation, and intense questioning is used to extract information from someone.

Total Power Exchange

An individual consensually gives up their autonomy and allows another to take full control over them. This can be just sexually, or in daily life. 

Transactional Sex

Sex in exchange for something, whether real or roleplayed.

Tribadism

Also known as “scissoring”, the act of two people rubbing their vulvas/vaginas together for sexual stimulation.

Uniforms

The sexualisation of certain uniforms. These could be uniforms that participants wear in daily life for work, or costumes explicitly for sexual activities. 

Vanilla

Sex without kink.

Vehicular

Sexual intercourse in a vehicle, such as a car or aeroplane. Sex on horseback counts as vehicular if you’re a cowboy.

Videos

The act of watching videos during sexual scenarios, or taking videos during them. 

Virginity/Celibacy

Sexualisation of virginity, sexual inexperience, or the choice/requirement to refrain from sex, such as religious vows.

Voyeurism 

Watching or being watched during sexual activity. 

Washing/Cleaning

The act of washing or cleaning either a person or an object. 

Watersports

Activities involving urine. This could include urinating on another person or oneself, attempting to hold in urine, or ingesting urine. 

Wax Play

Sensation play involving hot wax on skin. 

Weapons

Using weapons in sexual scenarios, such as guns, knives, or swords. 

Wet/Messy/Dirty

Play involving messy fluids and/or substances that are not bodily fluids.

Whipping/Flogging

Using a whip or a flogger during impact play, often during punishment scenes. 

Wings

-The focus/sexualisation of a character with wings, often called “wingfic” in fandom.

Workplace Sex

Sexual activity taking place in one or more of the participants’ workplace. 

Vore

Being eaten alive/eating others alive, distinct from cannibalism as a fantasy-based kink which can involve digestion, but often is more focused on the sensations of having another person in the belly/stomach.