#SHOVING THIS INTO THE VOID AND DIPPING

[strawberrymochin]

The Dick Analysis

A slight analysis on jjk men's dick would look and feel like....| Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Kento nanami; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro |

Gojo satoru

Pretty pink tip. Gojo's body lacks melanin, so his huge dick will be the prettiest colour of pink you've ever seen. When not aroused it would soft and jiggly making you want to play with it as a stress reliever, however the moment your hand comes in contact with his dick, it would spring back to life in an instant. Rock hard I mean (What do you expect you tell gojo you wanna play with his dingle dangle and he won't be horny to get a boner). The moment he gets hard he will get all whiney wanting to fuck you right now. You will have to give in anyway.

His glans(head) meets your dripping cut at first, coating his tip with your slick as his precum mixes with yours. It's his most sensitive part and he loves it when you lick it or your clitoris comes in contact with it. His dick would be pretty big, about six inches which when gets aroused can gain an extra length of 2 inches which is too big for you and it's always too big for you to fit. Thus there are many sex positions gojo refuses to try since it might hurt you. No matter what position every single thrust gets your eye rollin' till ya see infinite void. Lmao.

Geto suguru

Huge and thick. His cock would have an amazing girth that would strech you so well till you're sure that it's gonna be the death of you. His cock would be slight tanned as of his honey skin tone (before kenjaku took his body lol). His shaft would be more thick than its tip. Giving him a blowjob would be really hard because of how thick he is and no matter how carefully you take him totally avoiding teeth would be impossible. He would let out a soft gasp and creasing his brows as his head falls back whenever your teeth grazes his shaft accidentally. You would pull back immediately and mutter apologies which he shuts immediately tangling his fingers into your hair shoving it back into your warm mouth. He wouldn't say it directly but he loves it when you do so, the sudden strike of pain along with the gush of pleasure as you suck him gets him high and his balls tight.

Normally geto's dick would be of good 5 inches and when hard it might elongated to 6.5 inches. You love when he lets you ride his big fat cock and rest your head on his tiddies. He stretches you so good that once he pulls out you get overwhelmed with emptiness and beg him to stuff it in for the rest of the night.

Kento nanami

Talking about the dilf his baby corn would be the biggest and fattest thing you've ever taken. Bruh his cock his the perfect combination of length and width. Every thrust would drive you to the edge only for you to want more. You feel so full when he drowns himself into you. Kento's hardness can last upto hours even after cumming multiple times thus forget you're getting any sleep the entire night. Something he absolutely loves is to slap his dick on your face while cumming. At first it was your idea since you wanted to try out something new (basically you were horny) and how can nanami come to refuse you his (not so) innocent pretty angel. This became his new kink and slapping your face, messing your flushed cheeks with his cum drove him over the edge to go one more round. Normally he doesn't like overtime but if it's you then he can go over hours.

His cock would be of 6 inches and can elongate upto 7 when hard. His width is similar to geto's. He's such a sweetheart that he would let you stack doughnuts, tie a ribbon, dip it in chocolate, add sprinkles to the top and suck it. He would let you do anything (bruh's whipped for you).

Ryomen sukuna

Hail to sukuna sama and his dick sama. First thing's first sukuna (true form) has two dicks— adorned with similar twin striped tattoos along with a set of huge balls. His dick is huge— fucking huge. He would double penetrate you, use you like a cum dump whore without any care. He's the type to make it fit even if it won't. Every sex session with him will continue till hours and such a tease he is, he would deprive you of your high, not letting you cum till your cunt and asshole reaches the bottom of his shaft. Your legs would feel like jelly as you would be drooling while he pounds into you. Honestly I think you would pass out due to the sheer intensity of his thrusts as he fucks your cunt and asshole at the same time. I can also imagine him having anal with you while he grinds his upper dick on your pussy, sometimes sliding the tip inside only to see you whine with pleasure and withdraw it immediately to stop you from cumming. He loves to edge you.

Sukuna's dick samas would be huge as mentioned before. His balls would be so pretty and he would make you lick it after you squirt on it. Forget about the aroused size....aroused or not his length and size is enough to make you see death's doors. Have fun pretty concubine.

Toji fushiguro

Yeah dilfushiguro is it? Veins. The prettiest and the sluttiest thing about his dick would be the veins throbbing twitching and pulsating at the sight of you naked under him as his tip smears his hot precum slopping your entrance. His dick would be big and fat and the moment it would enter you, you would see black dots covering your vision till your eyes rolls with warm pleasure of him fucking you. He would go either feral or super gentle and teasingly slow, making love to you. What you love the most about his dick is you could trace his throbbing veins and twitching tip gushing his sperm into you making your hole sloppy and creamy with friction.

His dick would be 5 to 6 inches long and might gain half an inch when aroused. His dick would be slight tanned like geto's and the head would be thick with a long shaft. Toji loves pressing the bulge on your lower stomach when he's fucking you so his glans rubs your g-spot making you squirt. Later he eats your pussy out while he makes you lick the mess you did on the floor.

Other parts- The moan analysis | The cum analysis

a/n- the amount of sanity i lost while writing this is insane | © strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated

[norrizzandpia]

Heyyy ages ago when you wrote "She's missed you" you mentioned you would write about reader being close to Oscar's family and taking his sister's for coffee, would you consider writing something like that please I'd love to read it

This has been in my inbox for some time but i remember when i first got it going, “FINALLY SOMEONE ASKED ME TO DO THIS” I absolutely love this idea i just didn’t know if that was something yall wanted to see!!

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Summary: Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

Warnings: none, absolute FLUFF, cutest thing i think ive ever written lowkey, yn and Oscar being relationship GOALS (i want what they have), one remark about Oscar wanting to plan their wedding

What Oscar expects when he wakes is Y/n’s head shoved into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply as she slept. He’s always the one to wake up and, while he used to hate that when sleeping at his friends’ houses, he learned to cherish it. Cherish it because it gave him the opportunity to admire the beauty of his girlfriend when she wouldn’t see and blush whilst pushing him away. The soft dip at the top of her lip, the freckles around her nose, and the strands of her hair splayed across his pillow were all things he loved to stare at when he got the privilege of waking up before her. Yet, to his dismay, this morning when his eyes fluttered open, his girlfriend is nowhere to be found.

Frowning, he rises from the bed and looks around. Her clothes from last night are still flung over his desk chair, but her purse, the black bag that was right beside the clothing just hours before, is gone. His confused expression deepens and he moves to the bathroom, finding the door closed. He assumes she’s in there, maybe having brought her purse in because she had gotten her period and needed the tampons from it. However, that idea soon falls apart when he remembers the basket he’d set up underneath his sink with everything she could possibly need if she ever were to get it whilst at his house. And he knows there’s no way she has it seeing as two weeks ago she had pushed him away when he was trying to have… fun and told him it would be too messy.

Plus, the bathroom is weirdly silent and when he knocks on the door, “Baby?”, nobody answers. It creaks as he pushes it open and the small room is completely empty. Void of his girl.

The image of Oscar Piastri, in only his boxers, standing in the midst of his bathroom with knotted eyebrows and his arms stretched out at his side with his palms facing up would make anyone chuckle. He’s so genuinely lost at the lack of Y/n and it’s written all over him. From the way his eyes dart from the bed, maybe he had somehow missed her, to the door, it’s clear he’s trying to figure it all out in his head.

Finally, he comes to realize that the only logical explanation is that she’s downstairs or somewhere else in the house. So, his body takes him to the hallway outside. No Y/n. Then, he walks down to the kitchen and living room. No Y/n. Maybe the dining room? Nope.

Where the hell is Y/n?

He remembers a time when he was having trouble locating the girl and had only found her because her giggling had echoed throughout the whole house. That time, she had been with his sister in her room. Oscar loves how close his three sisters and Y/n are, but it makes him groan in annoyance when they steal his moments alone with her.

He goes to Hadie’s room first, but he finds it empty. Weird. Usually, the girl sleeps in late and, if not, she’s almost always in there.

Then, it’s Mae’s and he finds the same thing. Completely empty.

Lastly is Edie and he’s partially not surprised to find it’s empty as well.

Now, he’s wondering where his sisters are.

“Mom?!” He yells into the house, hoping his mother can alert him on where the majority of the women in his life have gone to.

He hears soft steps before his mother’s face appears at the bottom of the stairs, “Yes, love?”

Oscar patters down to her, looking completely helpless and lost. She frowns at him, noting her son’s lack of enthusiasm.

He huffs like a disgruntled toddler before whining, “Where’s Y/n? Or Hadie? Or Edie? Or Mae? I can’t find Y/n and when I went to look for her, I found all of them gone.”

Nicole chuckles before patting his shoulder lovingly, “They all went out to get Starbucks around thirty minutes ago.”

His head rears back, “What? Why? Why wasn’t I invited?”

Nicole smiles softly before turning around to walk into the kitchen. Oscar follows her closely behind, waiting for her answer, but she takes her time as she cleans dishes from, what he can assume, was her breakfast earlier.

Her hands wet and soapy, she lets her eyes drift to him, “They wanted girl time and Y/n didn’t want to wake you. She knew you were exhausted from the triple-header. She told me if you woke up running around the house and looking for her to tell you they’d be back soon and with coffee for you.”

He softens at that. How well she knows him always melts his heart. The exhaustion from all the races and the sleep he craved, she knew all too well. His coffee order, which he was confident she would get right, was something she had already thought of from the beginning of this escapade. The way she knew he would be slightly panicked, wanting her for their slow morning together, made him feel seen randomly. As she always says, to be loved is to be seen.

Still, he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get to spend a morning with his sisters and his girlfriend. His mother must see this on his face because she shuts off the water and lays a hand over his.

“You know, it’s okay to feel left out, but you should also know that I’ve never seen any prior girlfriend of yours this close with your sisters. They look up to her and when she started reaching out, asking if they wanted to play games or go out and do something together, their eyes lit up. You’re entitled to want to be with them this morning, but promise me you’ll acknowledge the effort Y/n continuously puts in to bond with the girls you’ve always wanted to protect.” She states softly. Her eyes lock with Oscar’s and she recognizes the understanding in them, the sudden realization. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on how hard Y/n had been trying, but Nicole definitely had. She saw the way Y/n always brought up topics of conversation the sisters could relate to, the way she always listened to their every word, and the way she learned their interests before using those things to bond. Nicole will never forget Mae telling Y/n about a book she had read only for Y/n to come back a week later saying she had read the book and couldn’t wait to talk about it with Mae.

Nobody was really interested in reading in the Piastri family the way Mae was. But, now, there was Y/n.

Oscar nods, “I guess it never really dawned on me how close Y/n was to them, but I see it now. If they’re comfortable enough to be hanging out alone, without me, then I guess they’re further along than I thought.”

“You should’ve heard them leaving this morning. The amount of laughter leaving the door was the cutest. Not to mention the way they joked about having to fear for their life while Y/n drove and Y/n responding about turning into you. The girls have never sounded that excited.” Nicole’s smile is big. Oscar knows it’s because she always wanted a bigger sister the close-in-age sisters could have to guide them. He loves that his mother believes that to be Y/n.

A moment of silence passes before Oscar asks, “How’d this end up happening? I know they didn’t talk about going out this morning last night when Y/n got here. I know because I was with her the majority of the night. Did the girls wake up and ask her? Did they come into our room?”

Nicole shakes her head quickly, “No,” She laughs, “It was Y/n. Y/n set an alarm to wake herself up, I know because I heard it, and then surprised them all by waking them up from their beds and rambling about getting coffee in their pajamas. It was all her. I assume she’d been planning it since yesterday, but just forgot to tell you. When you went to the bathroom last night, she turned to me and asked if the girls had any plans in the morning. When I told her no, she just nodded her head with a smile and turned away.”

Oscar feels as though he could start planning the Y/l/n-Piastri wedding right then and there. To know she’s gone out of her way to get to know his siblings, someone she knows he loves so dearly, gives him confirmation Y/n and him are together for the long haul. Nobody has ever nurtured a relationship with his sisters this heavily before. He falls in love with her more because of it.

Just as he’s about to speak, the front door flies open and roars of laughter flood through. He smiles to himself before turning around to see his girlfriend in the midst of all the sisterly chaos. His eyes land on her first, seeing her looking at Hadie with a smile on her face. He’s not sure what Hadie’s done, but it seems to be the funniest thing she’s ever experienced with the way she’s almost doubled over in laughter. Edie stands next to her, but when some of her coffee spills out and onto the floor, all four girls almost fall to the floor, borderline wheezing. The laughter is infectious and Oscar finds himself joining in. He can only imagine the kind of heart eyes he must be sporting right now.

His steps take him closer to the girls and when Hadie sees him, her face contorts, “Ugh, not you. You’ve come to take her away!”

All his sisters nod as they cross their arms over their chests, mischievous grins on their faces. He only shakes his head, smiling at them too.

“It’s only fair, I’m afraid.” Y/n begins as she walks toward him. He pulls her into him by the waist and she smiles, kissing him on the cheek, before handing him his coffee, his order completely right. “You guys got me all morning and, not to mention, all last week when he was gone. I’ve got to tend to my girlfriend duties now.”

The sisters nod their heads slowly, begrudgingly. Oscar laughs at the fact that they most likely wish he didn’t exist so they could have Y/n all to themselves. Ironically, he adores that.

“You guys hung out all last week?” He asks when Y/n’s previous statement catch up to him.

They look at him as if it’s obvious. “Yeah,” Y/n says as he continues to hold her against him, “Who do you think convinced them to get matching pajamas?”

It’s only then that Oscar clocks the matching sets his girlfriends and sisters are all sharing. His mouth falls open and his cheeks redden. He’s not exactly sure why he blushes, but he thinks it’s because he can’t believe how lucky he’s gotten to have a girl like Y/n fall in love with him.

When all four girls start rambling, at first to him but then to each other, about how much they love their matching pajamas, Oscar feels eyes on him. His head moves to the side and he finds his mother peering her head around the corner to admire the scene in the doorway.

If the way his mother and sisters all look at Y/n tells him anything, it’s that they will not be letting her go for a while. Neither will he, though.

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

you and rafe spend the majority of your time together at tannyhill. it just makes more sense, his house is bigger, usually vacant, and void of your father, who has plenty of choice words about your new rich boyfriend. but today is different, your dad is out investigating a break in on the opposite side of the island, and your mom disappeared off to the golf club hours ago. it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak rafe in.

“come on, come on! you’re gonna love my room.” you hug rafe’s arm, tugging on him excitedly. a smirk pulls at his cheeks, finding your eagerness adorable.

“alright, m’coming — gonna pull my damn arm off.”

you push open the door, revealing your cozy bedroom. there’s a big window overlooking the street with a vintage bench shoved underneath for your nighttime reading. a soft white rug sprawls over almost the entire hardwood floor, and your vanity sits next to the door, expensive makeup products and gold jewelry cluttering the surface. on the opposite wall is your overflowing bookshelf, your nightstand with your record player, a warm floor lamp, and your giant bed that sits in the center. it has pink floral sheets, white fluffy pillows, and a wide-eyed siamese cat sitting in the middle.

“oh! this is simon.” you introduce your kitty proudly. you didn’t expect him to be out, usually hidden away somewhere the second someone new steps foot in the house. in hopes he’ll stick around, you sit down gently on the bed beside him to run your fingers through his white fur. "he's a little shy."

“shy? fur-ball looks like he wants to eat me.” rafe raises an eyebrow at him, pacing closer. the little kitty’s eyes widen and his ears go back, rafe’s looming height too intimidating too fast — he’s quick to abandon the bed, hiding underneath as usual.

“rafe!” you whine, all hopes of friendship between the two of them lost immediately. you cross your arms dramatically, pouting. “gotta be slow — gentle. he’s sensitive!”

“yeah, yeah. i’m sure he’s just fine, babe.” he brushes it off in the moment but seems to take your words into consideration. later, when he’s lying half asleep in your pink sheets with you curled up beside him, the siamese cat hops back up on the bed, landing right in rafe’s lap. it surprises both of them, the cat probably forgetting he was even there. you don’t notice a thing, already out cold, lulled to sleep in rafe’s arms.

the two just stare at each other for a second, neither really sure what to do. in a moment of bravery, simon sniffs around the comforter and even rafe’s ringed hand, still unsure but suddenly not as skittish. he finds a dip in the blankets, and eyes rafe suspiciously before finally curling up between the two of you. “hm, m’not so bad now, huh?” rafe’s sleepy, gravely voice is soft, and he slowly brings his free hand to brush through the purring kitty’s soft fur.

˚❀˚

[yourtamaki]

monster trio + anal

the first time the tip of luffy’s cock presses against your hole is an accident, both of you in too much of a rush to get him inside you to line him up properly. even through the haze of frantic lust, he doesn’t miss your choked off gasp or wide eyes, how your legs spread a little further for him. the moment passes but he can’t forget your reaction or the thrill that shot through him when he thought about what it would be like to be buried inside you in a new way. luffy has always thought the best part of being in love is the freedom that comes with it. freedom to explore boundaries and discover what makes you both feel good, to chase that pleasure shamelessly, to indulge in it whenever he wants. he's addicted and there’s nothing more he wants than to grab you by the hand and share in that freedom with you. he doesn’t expect all the work it takes to get you ready to take him but it was all worth it when he lines himself up to your hole, soft and wet from all the prep, and his blunt head pops inside. luffy hardly feels himself cumming, too lost in the open, vulnerable look on your face and the tight heat wrapped around him. time slips away from him as he fucks you open with his tip and savours the joy of being in love.

zoro has to remind himself sometimes that it’s not about how much he’s willing to give you but how much you can take. because really, there’s nothing he wouldn’t give you. no line he wouldn’t cross, no throat he wouldn’t slit. and when he has you like this, face down, ass up, and fucking back on his cock like you need it to breathe, zoro can’t hold back the urge to grip the back of your neck and push you right up against your limits. his thrusts are slow and heavy as he grasps your ass in both hands and spreads you open, drinking in a sight meant for him alone. your hole is more honest than you, telling him what you need as it winks and clenches for him even while you whine in faux embarrassment. it calls to him and zoro answers, spitting a fat glob right on it and spreading the mess around your rim with his thumb. there’s no greater pleasure than feeling you relax under his touch and knowing you’re ready, that you’re begging, for more. he works himself inside you slowly, distracting you with dirty rolls of his hips until his thumb is hooked inside you. he holds still while you tremble and get used to the stretch, the fullness. a predator lying in wait, ready to lead you straight to your ruin.

there are days when sanji can't quite look you in the eyes, overwhelmed and sick with want. it almost feels like hunger, the way it sits heavy in the pit of his stomach, aching and gnawing on itself. you are his only relief, his salvation from the void that demands to be satisfied and sanji can only thank you by helping you onto all fours on your shared bed, shoving a pillow under your hips, and devour you. he’s grateful that you don’t have to see him like this, unmade and reduced down to his most base urges, barely a coherent thought in his mind except for more, more, more. he loses himself in the sweet way you rock back against his face as he traces around your rim, tongue dipping inside. he keeps one hand on your ass, keeping you spread open for him while the other wanders lower to where your cunt drools for him. you’re so relaxed and wet it’s easy for sanji to slip two fingers inside and give you something to clench down on. a reward for being so good and letting him indulge that terrible want. he’ll make it up to you, he thinks as he laps over your hole and kisses it once, then once more. just as soon as the hunger is fed.

[nyradragon]

Love the sound — Ellie Williams

Summary: Ellie is just always too good to you.

placement/background: Late nights coming home from the tipsy bison.

Warning(s): Pre-Established relationship, praise kink, mocking, teasing, face riding, heavy touching, foul language, els!receiving, r!sub-space.

Authors note: Okay so i thought i’d do a lil something something briefly inspired by the song Nasty by Russ. Go easy on me i’m much more confident in my fluff ahah SLIGHTLY proofread.

reblog’s and feedback would be much appreciated<3

Ellie would have you pressed hard against the old front door of your shared home the creaking of the old floorboards filling the air along with the soft groans leaving your lips.

Ellie’s lips would be nipping softly at the skin of your neck as her hands slid further around your waist causing you to arch your back off the door and press your chest into hers.

You’d inhale deeply as Ellie continued her assault on your neck the cool air burning as it filled your lungs. Ellie would slide her hand from around your waist to the door knob as she twisted it open blindly her rough fingers finding your hip in a moment gripping tightly.

Ellie would press into you roughly, pushing your bodies into the warmth of the house causing you to stumble slightly on your feet. Ellie would only grip your waist tighter keeping you upright as you got your footing back you’d feel the soft rumble of her chest, a chuckle leaving her lips as they hovered over the pinkish marks that were left in her wake.

You’d huff, fingers gripping onto her arm as the other gripped her upper waist head lulling to the side and glancing over Ellie’s features. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes almost completely void of colour and glazed over. She had a small smirk on her lips as she reached up with her hands roughly gripping your chin and pulling you closer to her, your soft lips pressing onto hers in a heated kiss.

A deep whimper caught in your throat as Ellie would kick the front door closed with her heavy boot causing the frames decorating the walls to shake softly. Ellie would pull away slightly a hiss leaving her lips as she felt your cold fingers trail up her bare stomach before bumping her nose to yours softly as she reattached your lips. 

Shoving your body against the closest wall Ellie groaned deeply pressing her body weight to yours effectively trapping your hands between your chests. The auburn-haired girl dropped her hand to the back of your thigh gripping it tightly as she hiked it up onto her hip pressing her core to yours. You’d tear your lips away from hers letting out a shaky moan only causing Ellie to press harder as she left light kisses all over your heated face her fingers digging deeper into the fat of your thigh.

You’d drop your head against the wall with a thud as Ellie kissed the exposed skin of your neck. She’d dip her free hand to the button of your jeans popping them open with ease as a sign fell from your lips. You’d wiggle your hands-free from her hold raising them to push at Ellie's open jacket over her shoulders causing Ellie to pull away from your body slightly, her hands dropping from your soft body to let her coat drop to the floor your leg still hooked around her hip not wanting to lose anymore contact.

“This needs to come off. —Now.”

Her voice was low and raspy from all the stolen kisses and the burn of the alcohol she has had all night, almost rumbling from deep in her throat. She’d tug roughly on the worn wool coat you had on the cool air around you causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as Ellie ran her hands down your arms discarding the soft material behind her.

Her hands returned to your hips desperate to feel your soft skin again, letting her hands slip under your shirt her fingers digging into your skin as she huffed out a breath against your collarbone. She’d pepper kisses all over your collarbones bending her knees slightly to tug your leg further up onto her waist and rolling her hips causing her to press into your core harder. You mumble incoherently as stolen breaths fall from your lips only causing Ellie to smirk deeply into your skin leaving a deep reddish-purple mark on your collarbone as she pulled away from you all together leaving your body cold, trembling and your chest heaving.

Ellie would chew on her bottom lip as she glanced over your dishevelled appearance. Your lips puffy and raw from all the kissing, your hair sticking to your damp skin, your shirt slightly offset and raised at the hips to expose your soft tummy from Ellie’s wandering hands.

But Ellie didn’t look much different her deep green eyes almost black from pure lust, her short hair falling from the bun she once had now framed her blush-stained cheeks, her fingers almost trembling to be back on your skin, her puffy red bottom lip is tucked under her teeth as she let her eyes scan over your beautiful body.

You swear you thought you heard a low growl leave the auburn-haired girl as she flickered her eyes back up to yours grabbing onto your hand roughly enough to snap you out of your trance to walk behind her.

The muscles in her back flexed under the beaten-up tank top as she tugged you along with her, your mind was fuzzy feeling drunk on her touch as you tried not to stumble up the stairs and towards your shared bedroom. Ellie’s tight grip on your hand loosened as she stopped your body in front of your neatly made bed, thanks to the freckled girl this morning.

She’d drop your hand with a mischievous look in her eyes as she gave you a light shove onto the pillowy surface, a small chuckle would leave her lips as you squealed at the sudden motion feeling your head sink into the fluffy blanket behind you.

“E-Ellie!”

You’d huff with a small giggle as you lift yourself onto your elbows, your legs dangled off the end of the bed slightly brushing against Ellie’s knees. You’d look up at the freckled girl as she held back a laugh she’d shoot you a wink before reaching for the collar of her tank top at the back of her neck tugging the shirt over her head and off her body, discarding it quickly to the floor.

You’d let your eyes travel over the scared and freckled skin of her chest and stomach your eyes lingering on the tight faded sports bra that hugged her breasts, making you want to reach over with your nimble fingers and rip it right off her pale skin.

Ellie would catch your eyes lingering on her chest tsk-ing quietly before she leaned over your frame her callused fingers pressing to your chin causing your eyes to drift up to meet hers slowly. Your cheeks would be flushed a deep red at being caught, even though you weren’t being the most subtle with your actions.

“Mm— it’s not nice to stare, baby.”

The freckled girl would smirk tilting her head slightly as she watched your cheeks get a deeper shade of red. She’d drop her hand from your chin letting them drift to your sides the icy tips of her fingers lifting your shirt the further she slips them.

Ellie would lean over you more placing a soft kiss on your forehead before tugging your shirt over your head discarding the flimsy material. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as her fingers pressed into your neck, then down your chest, her feather-light touches made the path they travelled feel like tv static.

“—but you know that… or do i have to remind you?”

She’d give your chest a small shove your breath catching in your throat as your mouth hung open slightly. Ellie would chuckle her face hovering over your stomach, she’d let her fingers trail to your outer thighs giving them a tight squeeze.

The auburn-haired girl would place light kisses over the bare skin of your stomach trailing down to your pantie line from the already open button of your jeans. She’d let the fingers on your thighs bunching up your jeans giving them a small tug to loosen the material from your thighs pulling them more roughly the second time. She’d let out a soft hum as her greedy eyes took in more and more of your exposed skin.

This wasn’t the first time she’s seen you like this but god does every time feel like the first. You’d hear a soft thud and groan as Ellie’s knees met the hardwood floor lowering herself to trail small kisses on the warm skin of your thighs, lowering herself along with your jeans pressing a couple of extra kisses to your knees as she pulled your jeans off your ankles.

You’d be chewing at your bottom lips as your eyes never left Ellie’s lifting yourself on your elbows once again to mesmerized by her actions. The freckled girl would be slightly on her knees sitting on the heels of her feet, her pale skin flushed a rosy pink as her chest rose and fell slowly closing her eyes briefly she’d inhale deeply before a small smirk rose to her lips.

She’d lean closer to you raising from her heels to press her body onto your bent legs hanging off the bed. You’d look at her eagerly sitting up more just begging her to do something to touch you, to let you touch her.

Grabbing the sides of your cheeks she’d squish lightly causing you to pucker your lips as you looked into her eyes your mind feeling fuzzy as you slouched more into her touch.

“Such a good lil’ pup, huh?”

She’d tilt her head slightly gauging your reaction her expression soft and fond of how cute you looked all dazed in front of her. She’d give your cheeks a light squeeze again gaining a small nod from you as you processed her words your hand would raise to brush at Ellie’s free hand that rested on your thigh.

Ellie would only chuckle as she let go of your cheeks but not before pecking your lips quickly. The freckled girl would carefully get to her feet as your eyes followed her movements like you had no mind of your own. You’d watch as the girl slowly unbuttoned her jeans almost torturing you as they dropped to pool at her feet with a loud thud from her buckle causing you to swallow the extra saliva collecting in your mouth at the mear image of her in front of you.

Ellie would slowly raise her bare knee resting it on the mattress at the side of your thigh before doing the same with the other now straddling your lap. She’d drop her weight onto your lap as your hands instinctively went to her hips gripping tightly.

She’d smile thoughtfully as she brushed her hands on your cheeks, smoothing your hair out of your face as she leaned in pressing her soft lips onto yours slowly pushing your body till she was hovering over you.

Ellie lingered there for a while enjoying the feeling of your lips desperately pushing against hers, small hums and whimpers escaping your mouth.

She pulled away feeling your body move towards her quickly chasing the feeling of her on you again. You’d whine quietly looking up at her with wide hazy eyes as your fingers dug into Ellie’s bare flesh.

“I know baby— shh i know.”

She’d coo pressing onto your chest to have you lay down again trailing her fingers down your sternum before scooting up higher onto your relaxed stomach.

“—I know you want to touch, pup. How about I give you a taste instead? hm, how does that sound angel? you’d like that wouldn’t you.”

You’d be babbling nonsense catching small ‘please’s’ along with ‘I love yous’ between whines and groans as you wiggled under the green-eyed girl. Ellie would hiss softly as she felt your fingers dig into her pale hips which had her swatting softly at your hands before she slid her body up yours.

You’d hum as she had her covered core hovering over your mouth causing you to whine as you saw the damp patch forming on the soft white cotton. Ellie would be analyzing your features you looked so pretty like this all flustered and needy between her thighs it made her wiggle her hips slightly closer.

“Go ahead pup you’ve been so patient— you deserve a treat.”

You’d give the freckled girl a small nod snaking one hand between you to peel the damp material to the side as your other hand tugged her thigh down levelling her core to your lips.

Flatting your tongue against her slit, lapping up everything she had. You’d hum softly against her causing Ellie to shudder as she dropped her hands to your hair tugging lightly in response but her eyes not leaving your actions.

You’d let both hands grip the fat of her thighs pulling her even closer to you as if you were starved. You could feel the way Ellie relaxed moans and quiet whimpers left her lips though she tried to keep a level head chewing on her bottom lip as she slowly rolled her hips into your needy mouth.

“Good god..— look at you doing such a good job, hm.”

Her voice was deep and slow almost hypnotizing as she brushed the hair away from your face to get a better look at you under her.

You’d have your lips wrapped around her clit moaning loudly against her, your mouth falling open slightly at her words your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Aw pup— let me help your fuzzy mind hm?”

Ellie would let out a chuckle as she tapped your nose bringing you back to reality slightly. As you continue to lick at her core your chest raising and falling rapidly your fingers pinching at her thighs causing Ellie to hiss but it has her hips moving faster against your mouth.

Ellie’s eyes would flutter closed, her lips slightly parted as her head dropped back. You could feel the girl's thighs slightly shake as she took full advantage of your mouth using you to reach her high.

You’d moan at the feeling of her, your thighs rubbing together at the arch between your legs. Your mind was fuzzy not able to even think just a moaning mess, the mixture of your saliva and the wetness of Ellie dripped down your chin and your jaw tightened at the constant abuse.

Ellie would grip your hair eyes falling back to yours with her brows slightly furrowed, her cheeks completely flushed and sweat lining her hairline as she focused on her high.

“Mm s’good baby keep going I’m so c-close. fuck.”

She’d drag out the last word her voice breathy as she chased her high, deep groans leaving her lips along with a string of praises leaving you squirming underneath her as she kept her steady pace.

Her hips would stutter against your mouth causing you to pull her down flush against you her thighs shaking against your cheeks as she slightly collapsed, her hands planting onto the mattress above your head, her head dropping as she watched where your lips were connected to her causing her to lose it completely. A gush of wetness dripped down your chin and into your mouth as you moaned loudly against her only causing shockwaves to go through Ellie at the sensitivity.

She’d try to pull away from the feeling, breath catching in her throat as whimpers escaped her, but you had her locked in place making sure to clean up the mess you two caused.

Ellie groaned lifting her hand to casually run through her damp hair pushing it out of her face as she looked down at you in pure adoration.

You’d loosen your hold on her thighs as you felt her start to shift lower so she was straddling your hips. Ellie would have a lazy smile on her lips as she adjusted her undies slightly before leaning into you. She’d press her lips to yours tasting herself on your lips which only caused her to let out a satisfied hum as she ran her hands down your sides.

Her lips left yours as they trailed down your neck, your collarbones, your chest then down to your stomach lingering there for a moment longer before she lifted her head peaking up at your spacey look with a smirk.

“Your turn, angel.”

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Tis the sleazins

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You keep the small lamp next to the bed on through the night. You slip into a shallow doze, aware of Ernie’s deep breaths and your ears' thrum in the silence of the room. After hours of this, you finally dip beneath the threshold of true sleep. The deep sort that blocks out even dreams. You are thoughtless in the void.

A swirling sensation comes over you. A subconscious dizziness that weighs down your body. The achy paralysis of an all consuming fatigue.

The layers of your unconscious slake away one by one. Your breathing picks up, your eyes roll beneath their lids, your body tingles as your senses return to you. Little by little, you float towards reality.

It’s as if you’re being tugged between two forces. The dregs of your exhaustion battle with a sharp plucking you can’t place. Your voice tickles your ears, bringing you closer to the world. Your lashes flutter as you moan, a tremor between your thighs as heat brews in your pelvis.

Your eyes snap open and your head pops up. You choke as your dry throat catches the scream that rises from your lungs. First at the memory of where you are, then at the sight of the body between your thighs. The shoulders that keep you splayed as he man bows his head to your cunt.

You try to holler but again it shrivels to a pathetic whine. His tongue smothers your resistance as he laps at your clit, swiping and suckling, playing with you expertly. You fall back and grasp the pillow, back arching instinctively into him.

He chuckles, the noise rippling into you as his fingertips brush up your thigh. Rubbing and tracing along the flesh, closer and closer to their price. Your gasp as he feels along your folds, gliding between them as he hums and tastes, drinking up the pleasure slickens your lips. 

He rolls your bud between his teeth playful as he prods at your entrance. He pushes, threatening to slide inside, then pulls back, roving up between your folds and down again. He does this again and again, each time sending a tide rattling through you.

He snickers and pushes a single finger into you. Easily sliding into his lowest knuckle, curling his finger as he tests your limits. He extends his finger again, measuring your depth and eases it out. This time, he aligns two thick digits and shoves them into you, a fiery stretch radiating into your stomach.

There’s that stubborn voice telling you to push him away, to kick and hit, to do anything but let him keep going. You can’t. It’s delectable. The short trim of hair on his lip adds just enough friction to make you writhe. How can someone so repugnant make you feel so good? Almost as good as your pulse vibrator.

You swing your hand down and latch onto his hair. You fist the strands as you put your other palm to the shave sides. You buck your hips, trying to control his rhythm as he slides in and out of you. He snarls as he wiggles his head, purring as he laps you up.

You feel your orgasm twisting and twisting. The tension knots in your muscles and curls your toes. It has you quiver as you shove his head down and moan. Your walls squeeze his fingers as a gush flows out around his knuckles.

He snickers and keeps going. You puff and push on his head as his tending grows overbearing. You try to roll him away from you but he pins you flat. He rams in as deep as he can, pressing against the sensitive ridge just behind your entrance.

You squeal and shake. Oh god, it’s too much. You don’t even think it’s him. It’s just the effort. It’s been a while since you were with a man who did more than wander aimlessly around your cunt.

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks. The pressure is immaculate. It swells and your climax spills over again. You drag your hands away from his head and brace the bed. You get lost in the whirlwind of your own pleasure.

He pops his mouth off of you. You spasm as your head lolls. You look down at him, unable to close your legs as he stays nestled between them. His mustache glistens from your stolen delight.

“Like that, kitten?” He winks.

“Wha…” you garble and push yourself up on your elbows. He keeps his fingers in you, wiggle them until you squeak.

“Those other dicks won’t treat you like a nine course buffet,” he rocks his hand at an easy tempo, “mmmm,” his eyes flick down to your cunt as he watches himself finger you, “Merry fucking Christmas, huh?”

“Wh- where–” you can hardly think straight. Something’s off, something’s missing. Is this some demented dream?

You flinch as a beep comes from the other side of the door. He doesn’t react or stop. The mechanism whirs back and the door opens. You drop your head and hide under your arm in shame before you can see who it is.

“What the fuck?” The other man exclaims, “Lloyd, get off her–”

“Breakfast, most important meal of the day,” he chuckles as his breath dances over your cunt and he leans in again. Before he can meet your cunt, he’s pulled away, his hand ripped unceremoniously from between your legs.

“This isn’t what we agreed on,” Andy snarls.

“Keep saying it and I might fucking care,” Lloyd retorts.

You close your legs and bend them as you pull down your skirt. You push yourself up against the pillows, folding yourself as small as you can as you stare at the men’s shoulders. Andy has Lloyd by the front of his black turtleneck as Lloyd grips his forearms in turn.

Andy inhales deeply and lets it out through his nose. He peeks over at you as you put your palms to your cheeks. You give a sheepish look, averting your eyes to the bedspread.

“Outside.”

Andy tries to move Lloyd. He can’t. The men stare each other down. The latter scoffs and shoves the other’s hands off his collar. The part, squaring their shoulders and posturing like animals.

Not a word passes between them as Lloyd raises his two fingers, “let me just get cleaned up.”

He sucks his fingers clean and you grimace, turning your head to hide behind your eyelids. He snickers again and a sole scuff before footfalls trail out the door. Another deep breath and another pair of steps pace away. The door closes and you’re left to silent confusion.

You look around the room as more of the previous night pieces together. You bounce to the edge of the bed in a sudden panic as you look around. Ernie!

You hear a scratch, then another, and a puff of nostrils. You spin to face the small door on the opposite side of the room. You round the bed and turn the handle, finding both your dog and an en suite bathroom.

“Oh, Ern, thank god,” you bend to hug him around the neck. He smells like bacon. You stand as you pat his head; he must’ve been lured in by the delicious cured meat. “Silly.”

You drag your hand away and turn to the room. You look around as you consider your options. There aren’t many. That door is locked and the walls are soundproof. You’re not going to be saved by some miracle hero. You’re also not going to fight off three men for much longer. Not through brute strength.

Give a little, get a lot. This isn’t a typical fight. It’s three against one. You’re outnumbered. You can’t win alone, but you also won’t gain any allies. There is something they say about that; the enemy of my enemy…

You go to the tall wardrobe and open the door. You pick out a red sweater dress with bell sleeves that ends just across your thighs. With it, you take a pair of similarly coloured panties; a thong but the least skimpy of the collection. You also grab a pair of black knee socks to keep your toes warm.

Ernie goes to the door and lays down in front of it. He’s always your little guard. Wherever you are, he puts himself between you and any entrance. He’s like a furry knight.

You go into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. You flip on the light and take in the space. A typical bathroom; a shower with a completely transparent wall, shining counters, and a porcelain toilet beneath a silver set of shelves.

There’s a towel on the bar. You put the clothes on the closed toilet and undress. You crank on the shower and wait for the booth to fog up. You step inside and let the heat soak into you. It’s almost comforting, as much peace as you’ll find in this place.

You use that moment to think. You don’t have a clear plan. You can’t have one but you have an idea. As much as you can barely stand those men, they would say the same of each other. You can use that.

You use the body soap in the bottle with the cupcake as a cap. You smell like a candle as you rinse off. You turn off the flow of water and turn to the door. You push it open and step onto the mat, stopping short as you find someone waiting on the other side.

Andy sputters as his eyes rove up and down your body. You cross your arms, and hand over your pelvis as you gasp and shy away. He clears his throat and snatches the towel off the bar, holding it out as his eyes skim the ceiling.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to scare you–”

“It’s fine,” you assure him as you accept the towel and cover yourself. You gotta get your shit together. You have to let them think they have you cornered but you can’t really get yourself stuck. “I was just cleaning up, I’m sorry. I… I should’ve asked.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assures you, “I should be sorry. About Lloyd. He shouldn’t have… just barged in.”

“Oh, uh…” you look away. You’re genuinely embarrassed.

“He likes to do whatever he wants. Not anymore. I’ll make sure of that, honey. If he pulls anything, I want you to tell me, can you do that?”

You turn back to him. You meet his eyes. You see the strain around them. He’s fighting not to look down. 

“Sure,” you agree. 

“Good,” he says, “I…” He glances around, “I should let you get dressed. When you’re ready, you can come out and join us.”

“Okay,” you smile and sway back and forth, “Andy?”

He looks at you, his eyes alight, “yes, honey?”

“You said you won’t let them hurt me, right?”

He nods, his face softening, “I won’t.”

You let your lips tremble and squeeze the top of the towel, “promise?”

“I promise,” he assures you. “You’re precious to me. I…” he swallows, “I wouldn’t have done all this if you weren’t.”

“I… you’re right, it is a lot,” you go to the sink and look in the mirror before taking a bottle of expensive cream from the shelf over the toilet. You read the label, “you know, I could never afford this on my own. Ninety-five dollars an ounce.”

“I know,” he drones, “it’s why I got it for you.”

“You?” You hold onto the small tube as you peek at him.

“The others… they helped me get you. That’s it. Everything else, I did. For you.”

“That’s so sweet,” a tremor breaks through your voice, an unintended affect.

“Let me know if I missed anything,” he inches back slowly, “if you need… anything.”

“I will,” you turn back to your reflection. You know he doesn’t mean anything. If you asked him to take you home, you don’t think he’d listen.

You wait for him to go. You only realise when he’s gone that you really are shaking. You’re afraid. Even if these men are dumb, they scare you. You have to be very careful.

🎀

When you’re dressed, you find the door open, waiting for you. You go down the hall as you hear a commotion. Ernie’s paws tap on the floor as he wiggles in his pre-meal dance. He must be so hungry!

He drools as he threatens to jump up at Ransom who holds the open bag of kibble in his arms. You know by the torn top that it’s the very same from your cupboard. He fights to keep from spilling as he’s corned by the Saint Bernard.

“He’s going to bite me!” He yells.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Lloyd appears in the doorway, “you got one job, the dog food. So feed the damn dog.”

“You feed it,” Ransom slams the bag down on the table against the wall, “just watch your fingers.”

Ransom holds up his bandaged hand; Ernie’s work. You almost laugh. You’re proud of your boy.

“Ah, hello, pussy cat,” Lloyd turns his attention on you, “look who’s up from her cat nap.”

You blink at him dumbly. He smirks smugly and winks, pointing at you with two fingers. Those two fingers. You shudder.

“I can feed him,” you offer. “He needs a bowl.”

You head for the front room but Lloyd is quick to block you as he stretches his arm across the expanse of the hallway, “I’m still a bit peckish, can I get something to eat?”

You cringe and back up. Ransom comes closer as Ernie’s distracted by the bag of kibble, his nose pressed to the side. You gulp as the men zero in on you.

“She tastes like honey,” Lloyd comments, “you want some? I’ll bend her over and you can go through the back, huh?”

Ransom snickers as he steps up next to Lloyd, “how do you know?”

Lloyd growls and tilts his head, “how do you think?”

“How the fuck did you get away with that?”

“I didn’t,” Lloyd sneers, “Mr. Bossy Pants spoiled the meal.”

“Uh, oh, please, I… it’s Christmas,” you show your palms, “so I think we should, er–”

“It’s Christmas so why don’t you give us a present?” Ransom grins, “got a couple I can think of under that sweater.”

“I– but Andy–”

A sudden crash and scatter makes you all flinch. The men turn and you look between them to find Ernie tearing into the bag of kibble. You rush forward, elbowing the men as you race towards him. You pull him back by the collar, barely able to keep him from pigging out.

“Please, he needs a bowl,” you plead, “he’s on a controlled diet.”

“He’s a dog,” Lloyd sniffs.

“Yeah? And you gave him bacon!” You accuse.

“What’s going on?” Andy appears from the front room.

“Great,” Lloyd grumbles.

“Stupid dog,” Ransom snarls, “that’s what’s going on.”

“Honey,” Andy ignores them, rushing to you, “are you okay?”

“No,” you pout, “if he eats too much, he’ll be sick.”

“Aw, it’s okay,” he rubs you back through the sweater. You note how eager he is to touch you. “I’ll clean up, you get him in the kitchen.”

“I’ll go with her,” Lloyd offers, “there’s knives in there.”

“Ransom,” Andy grits and rescinds his hand as he turns to glare at Lloyd, “you can take her.”

The other two men stare each other down, just like before. That argument isn’t over and you’re not sure it ever will be. Whatever their plan is doesn’t seem to be going as they expected. You can only hope that it doesn’t.

[b3ach-bunn7]

TRUTH OR DARE

You and Gojo are constantly in battle at the top of your classes. The tension that always seems to surround you comes to head at a party

Academic rivals, enemies to lovers, a little mature but nothing too bad

——————————————————————

You wonder how much trouble you’ll be in if you kill Satoru Gojo.

It’s something you think about often, despite how wrong you know the violent thoughts tend to be. You imagine reaching over in English, where he sits directly in front of you, and throttling his neck, right before the dip of his collarbone, the paleness of his smooth skin blooming under your palms.

Of course, you haven’t always been like this. At every school you’ve been to, your need for academic validation drove you to the top of your classes and that was where it ended. There was no competition. You were, as vain as it sounded, the smartest, and you always had been. There’d never really been much competition, and you’d loved your position at the top.

That all changed when you started at Jujutsu High School.

It had been after your first History exam. For the most part, you’d kept your head down, made a few friends. You hadn’t spoken to most people, but you didn’t mind the lack of attention. It was after your teacher had passed back your exams, a beaming smile on his face as he passed you the paper with a bright red ‘99%’, that he’d turned around.

The first thing you noticed was his bright blue eyes. They seemed to bore into you as they fell on your face, flitting over your features, before falling on your paper. You sneak a glance at his, and catch the ‘97%’ before he shifts it out of your eyeline. The next thing you notice is how unfortunately attractive he is, even as his face contorts into a sneer.

“You beat me?” His voice is low, as if he’s scared for anyone else to hear.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He scoffed. “Well, don’t get used to it. Me not being first isn’t a very common occurrence around here.”

You’d been annoyed enough at his cockiness that you’d snarled back, “I wasn’t ‘around here’ before. We’ll see if you stay first. If my 99% is anything to go by, you probably won’t.”

Sure, maybe you could’ve been mature and not fall for his obvious ploy to taunt you. But self-control was not one of your strong points, and it seemed to get even worse around him. Your snipe back seemed to have introduced a back and forth between the two of you.

Every test, every project, the two of you were fighting for the top place. He’d beat you in a maths paper, and you ran for longer during the bleep test. Gojo drove you to revise harder, spend more time holed up in the library, if only to get one step further. Not only that, but he loved to taunt you. How you’d tie your hair, the way you’d colour code all your notes. Any little thing to spike your blood pressure. Gojo would grin, mouth turning up at the corners, eyes boring into yours, his stupid perfect, soft hair falling into his eyes, laughing in that stupid way he did.

Today, his annoying laugh infiltrates your ears as he brandishes your latest English essay, that had received a smiley face. Which, from Mr Choy, was no easy feat. The max praise he dished out was a nod, imperceptible at best. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this was English. Your subject, the one you’d always been best at, everywhere. He couldn't get this as well.

“Look. Right under my A+, a beautiful smiley face. This must be due to my academic prowess.” He grins.

He leans over his chair to your desk, where he points at your paper, which is very obviously void of any emoticons. The scent of his cologne, something piney and expensive, infiltrates your nose, and you want to shove him away.

“Huh. That’s funny. Yours doesn’t have one.” He pouts, tilting his head in fake sympathy.

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Wow. Remarkable response. I see why I’m better at English than you.”

You splutter, snatching your paper from under his eyes,“You’re not better at English than me.”

His fingers drum over the paper. “You sure?”

You decide to ignore him. You turn your attention to the two girls besides you who are talking about Sukuna’s party. You were invited, but you weren’t really sure if you’d go yet. Parties weren’t exactly the funnest thing in the world. All sweaty teenagers and alcohol.

Gojo must see you watching them because he, of course, has to chime in.

“Are you going to Sukuna’s?”

“I might.”

“Were you even invited?”

You cross your arms over your chest, a spike of irritation travelling up your spine.

“Yes, I was invited.”

Gojo makes a face then, like it’s the most unbelievable thing that could happen on planet earth.

“Is that a surprise to you?”

He shrugs, and turns back around. “I didn’t think parties were your thing.”

“You don’t know what my thing is.”

He turns back around. A slant of light catches on his face, maybe his eyes seem impossibly bluer as they focus on you. You turn your gaze down, to avoid the sheer scrunity you’re under.

“I think I could guess. Friday night holed up in a library or your house with a stack of books? Even the thought of alcohol sending you into a shock?” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Fuck off.” Gojo winces at your tone.

“God. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Gojo nods slowly, patting your hand, which you snatch away. “It’s okay. I know all that studying doesn’t leave time for love.”

“Well. I don’t have a boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m not seeing anyone.”

You don’t know why you said that. You’re definitely not seeing anyone right now. You’d only been at Jujutsu high for about two months. You could count the boys at this school you’d spoken to on one hand. But Gojo didn’t need to know that.

And it was the right decision. Because upon hearing your words, Gojo looks… Weird. His face sort of freezes slightly, and you’re sure he’s clenching his jaw by how a muscle suddenly clenches in it. But the surprise is gone as quickly as it arrived, and he blinks back to his normal, unbothered expression.

“Really? Who?”

“Don’t think that’s any of your buisness.”

“Whatever. Doubt it’ll last anyways.” He says it with a curl of disgust that has you frowning.

“Just turn around, you dick.”

“Okay. But not because you told me to.”

So infuriating. His cocky, self-assured nature is why you decide that lunchtime you are definitely going to Sukuna’s party.

You make this decision with Shoko. She’s probably the closest friend you’d made since you got here. Despite the fact that Gojo, her and the other boy that hung around them were all best friends. She listened to your rants about how insufferable Gojo was, and how much you wanted to throttle him with enough enthusiasm to keep you going. She was also under the impression you liked him, but you ignored those comments.

“You should’ve heard him, Shoko. Like I was disgusting, or something. God, he’s so annoying.” You shout the last sentence in your palms which are covering your face.

Shoko grins, popping a bubble with the nicotine gum she’d started chewing. You knew her no smoking wouldn’t last. She went through this every couple weeks, at your incessant nagging.

“Who gives a shit what he says? He’s never had a girlfriend before.”

Your mouth drops open a little. He’s definitely attractive enough to get a girlfriend. It must be his abhorrent personality that stops him. You don’t realise you said that out loud until Shoko raises an eyebrow.

“You think he’s attractive?” She coos, fanning her face dramatically.

“Shut up. What are you gonna wear?”

You spend the rest of your lunch discussing outfits and making Shoko promise not to leave you alone while you’re there, which she begrudgingly does, after your promise to buy her more gum.

———-

Upon walking into Sukuna’s house, you realise exactly why you don’t go to parties.

The atmosphere is thick with the stench of alcohol, and the music is loud enough you feel it beating in your chest. Shoko had insisted the two of you arrive fashionably late, so you’d avoid the awkward first part of the party before any alcohol had started working its way through peoples systems and broken the tension. You’d taken a couple shots at her house, as she swiped something glittery across your eyelids, and the drinks were warming the inside of your stomach.

Shoko’s hand is clasped around your wrist as she pulls you through the house. You feel eyes lingering on you. It’s the first time anyone at school has seen you in anything but the uniform. You’re wearing a short black dress, the expanse of your legs and probably a little too much of your chest out on display. You’d also rubbed some of this weird glittery stuff Shoko had in her house all over yourself, so you were sort of glinting under the lights. You didn’t mind the stares too much. It was ego boosting if anything.

You arrive in the furthest room, where the majority of your classmates have congregated. You see Sukuna, Uraume, who hangs off his arm, and who you think are Mahito and Choso, lounging on the couch. Sukuna is attractive. Muscular arms and pink hair that the school’s incessant nagging hadn’t affected. He was hot in a hes-no-good-for-me type of way, and you look away quickly when he locks eyes with you across the room. You see other gaggles of groups, even surprisingly Sukuna’s younger brother, Yuji, whos laughing with a dark-haired boy and a girl who sort of looks like Shoko.

The girl in mention takes you to one corner, where Gojo and his friend are in animated conversation. The former immediately stops talking upon your arrival. His eyes travel up your body, lingering on your legs, your chest, before they rest on your eyes. He doesn’t greet you, just looks away. Which is a shame, because the black button down and trousers hes wearing, paired with the silver chain that dangles from his neck, look disgustingly good on him. The boy next to him, on the other hand, smirks in a way that should be illegal, and extends a hand.

“Hi. I’m Geto, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

His voice can only be described as silk, smooth and rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even think about how it’s kind of weird he’s asking to shake your hand. You just reach out, shake it, and hope the flush you feel on your cheeks isn’t visible. You tell him your name, and a more mischievous grin break out across his face.

“Hey wait, I know you. You’re the girl Satoru always talks about!”

Gojo turns, suddenly. “Suguru-”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Gojo, “What does he say about me?”

“He’s always complaining when you beat him in class, or when you say something snarky to him, which I find quite funny. Just today he was hating on the fact you got a bo- Ow!”

He’s cut off by a sharp elbow in his gut. Gojo’s clenching his jaw, a look so murderous on his face you let out at laugh. Its much less funny when he aims it at you.

“Shut up. I’m getting a drink.” He points at Geto. “You. Don‘t speak while I'm gone.”

You give it a minute before you follow Gojo to the kitchen, telling Shoko you’re getting your own drink. You ignore the knowing look on her face. He’s leaning against the counter when you walk in, and you try ignore his eyes on your back as you survey the options of drinks. You end up pouring coke and an alarming amount of vodka in a red cup.

“Woah. Careful there. You don’t want to have too much fun, now. You might ditch your academia and become a party girl.”

You fake a laugh. “I know you’d love to see me drunk. It’d give you more stuff to talk to Geto about, right?”

You grin as his smile drops.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t know. It really sounded like he did. What, are you obsessed with me or something?” You sigh, pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m flattered, really.”

Gojo doesn’t move for a second. Then he gets up, walks towards you.

“Do you want me to be?”

“W-what?” You stutter out a laugh.

He’s close enough that you back up into the counter. He doesn’t stop moving though, until he’s right in front of you. He rests his palms on the table behind you. Your breath pauses, a flush rising in your cheeks. You think you should push him away, because the scent of him is overwhelming, and his height is allowing him to tower over you. But you can’t. Even though you loathe him you can’t step away from him.

He leans lower, and his face is so close your lips are almost touching. You’re faintly aware of the people talking outside and how this must look if they walked in.

“Do you want me to be obsessed with you? To think about you when I’m in my room.”

His lips almost touch yours as he speaks. He moves to the side, now talking right into your ear.

“At night, when I’m alone. When I’m hot and I’m bothered and-“

Someone goes to open the kitchen door and the moment is broke. You push him off you, grab your drink and storm out the room before anyone catches you flustered at his hands.

What is his deal? Acting like- Acting like that. In public. Where anyone could of walked in, and seen how close you two were to kissing. Not that you want to kiss him. You don’t like Gojo, not like that. Not even as a friend.

It’s not like you think about him all the time. Only when you’re studying, because of course you need to focus your efforts on beating him. Or whenever you’re in class, because his white head is the only thing in your eyeline. Or whenever you see something blue.

But it’s not like you imagine kissing him. Or notice any of those details about him. Only when he looks at you. Really looks at you, like in class earlier that day, like he did in the kitchen.

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mahito suddenly shoots up from the couch. He’s energetic in an annoying way, always laughing and pissing someone off. You keep your distance. He announces that you’re going to play Truth or dare. The room pauses, unsure of how to react. Most of them look to Sukuna to see his reaction. He looks quite excited about it though.

“Isn’t that kind of childish? We aren’t 12.” Mako speaks up from across the room.

“Piss off, Maki. Don’t play then.” Her sister, Mai, says.

They’re both opposites, one dressed in a tight dress and the other jeans. They both sit on the floor in a circle, anyway. The rest of the group follows. Shoko sits next to you and you desperately avoid eye contact with Gojo, who has sat directly in front of you. Shoko noticed the tension and whisper to whisper in your ear.

“Is there something going on with you and Gojo?”

“No. Nothing.”

“You sure? You look kinda flushed.”

“Shut up.”

You shove her as she laughs. You parented you can’t feel someone staring right into you.

The game goes smoothly at the start. A couple dares to eat something disgusting, a few kisses. truths which lead to confessions, some to arguments. The circle shuffles as two people leave (most likely to make out) and you find yourself next to Sukuna. He nods at you and you give him a smile.

“Hiya.”

“Hello.” His voice is deep, gravelly.

“Nice party.”

“Thanks. My parents are definitely going to love the stench of alcohol in our carpets.”

You laugh and he grins. It makes him look awfully like his brother.

“You know, I’m surprised you invited your brother. I would have locked my sister in her room if she asked to come to a party I was throwing.” You marvel, nodding at the boy in question.

“Yeah, he begged me. And I owe him. Left him outside in the rain last week because I forgot to pick him up.” He shakes his head. “It was invite him or he told our parents.”

“He’s sweet, though. Other than the blackmail. Showed me around on my first day.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Of course he did. Ever the goody-two shoes. Teachers love him.”

“They don’t love you then?” You smile.

“Nah. I’m not the best behaved.” He grins again, and it stops looking cute like Yuji’s smile and turns into something much more troublesome.

“Mhm. I see how that’d get on their nerves.”

He stretches slightly, and his shirt rides up his arm, and you see a tattoo.

“Woah. That looks cool.” Your fingers graze them lightly.

You realise the alcohol you’d been slowly drinking has made you much braver than usual. You dont think Sukuna minds. You’re well aware of him flexing his biceps for you. What a show off.

“Thanks. Did them when I was sixteen.” He sounds wistful.

“You make it sound like it was ages ago.”

He shrugs.”Feels like it. I don’t regret them, but they don’t make getting a job any easier.”

“Are we going to keep playing, or what?”

Gojo’s voice cuts across the room, and everyone immediately sits back down. It’s not his party, evident by the sour expression on Sukuna’s face, but everyone just listens to Gojo. He has a weird sort of control over everyone. Even though he was a nerd, smart and perfect at every subject, every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him.

You meet his eyes across the room and his face is thunderous. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, but he just looks away.

“Okay, my turn!” Shoko grins. There’s a cigarette in her mouth and you sigh at its presence.

The game is simple. Spin the bottle in the middle, and whoever it lands on gets asked a truth or dare. You had not been picked yet. It’s why you’re not paying much attention when the bottle lands on you. Shoko woops, and Sukuna nudges your shoulder.

“Lucky you.”

“Not lucky at all. Look at her face. I’m fucked.” You wince at the expression Shoko is pulling.

“Truth or dare.”

“Uhm. Truth?”

Sukuna boos. “Come on, be fun. Pick dare.”

You whine. “But she’s so mean.”

“Come on.” He drags out his syllables, and you groan.

“Okay fine, fine.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs. You flush slightly and he turns to the rest of your peers.

“She picks dare.” He holds your arm up in the air and you laugh.

Shoko pauses. Thinks. You see her glance at Gojo, just for a second, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I dare you. To have seven minutes in heaven. Or in seven minute in a pantry, whatever’s available.”

Oh, god.

“With Sukuna.”

Oh.

Cheers erupt from your friends. Someone whistles, and Sukuna just smiles. He offers you his hand, and you take it, a furious red covering your face. You see Gojo for one second before he leads you to his pantry, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone.

Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe. Why else would he be so angry?

Sukuna shuts the door, and you feel the awkwardness the second he does. You don’t know if you expect him to kiss you, or if he expects you to kiss him. You don’t really want to, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“So.” He says.

“Uh. I like your pantry.”

He pauses for a second. And then bursts out laughing. You cover your face with your hands, cursing Shoko under you breath.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know why she did this.” You groan.

“It’s cool. It’s because of Gojo, right?”

You pause. Other people were aware of your crush? You’d only just found out a couple minutes ago.

“I- What do you mean? What about him?”

“I mean, you like him, right? And he likes you”

“Really? Do you think so? That he likes me?”

Sukuna smiles at you again, and you’re suddenly very glad he wasn’t some dick who was going to try and force himself on you. You were surprised. He looked much meaner around school than he was being right now.

“Duh. He looked like he was gonna kill me just ‘cause we were talking. And i saw you guys in the kitchen getting all freaky.” He snorts at you embarrassed face.

“Okay, we weren't getting freaky. And also, i didn’t even realise I liked him until today.”

You're both leaning against opposite sides of the wall. You thump your head against it, groaning.

“I don’t know what to do. We spend every minute arguing, i don’t even know how I’d tell him”

Sukuna ponders it for a moment. “You wanna make him jealous?”

You probably shouldn’t. You’d seen the look on his face when you just spoke to Sukuna. If that look was actually aimed at you. You couldn’t be sure. It would be best to find out. Definitely the smartest, most logical solution.

“Okay. Sure. But, i don't think i want to-”

“Its okay.” Sukuna holds up a hand.

He ruffles a hand through his hair, and starts biting his lips. Oh. You get his drift, and do the same. You ruffle your own hair, smear the lipgloss on your lips across your face.

“Wait, come here.” You pull him towards you and press your glossy fingers to his chin.

Sukuna is cool. In another world, maybe you would’ve ended up with him.

The two of you collect yourself (or pretend to) and open the door. You find that the Truth or Dare circle has split, and everyone has split back into their groups. You search for Gojo, and you catch him across the room, staring at you. He looks at your messed up gloss, Sukuna’s ruffled hair. The muscle in his jaw clicks, and he turns away.

And then nothing.

Sukuna winces next to you. “Yikes. Sorry about that.”

“It's fine. Thanks for the help.” Sukuna nods once, then walks off.

God. You don’t know what you expected. For him to barge in and rip you and Sukuna apart, then kiss you? It was stupid. You were stupid to even think about acting on your stupid crush.

You decide to go outside to get some fresh air. You go out the front door, away from the backyard smokers. The sky is clear and it’s cold, but you can’t bring yourself to go back inside to get your coat. You just watch the stars and think about how the hell you’ll get over this.

Maybe let him beat you in a couple tests. He’ll get his ego boost and lose any expectations that you’d ever beat him again and leave you alone.

The door behind you opens and slams shut. You turn around, hands rubbing at the goosebumps on your arms. It’s Gojo.

“What the hell was that?”

He walks out and stands in front of you. This isn’t like before though. There’s no tension, just his anger.

“What- What are you on about, Gojo?”

He laughs, mirthless and sarcastic. “God, don’t give me that. You were practically throwing yourself at Sukuna the whole time we were in there.”

“I- There’s-“

“Touching his arm, fucking doing, I don’t know, whatever the hell you were doing in that closet.”

You cross your arms, frowning. “Whatever the hell I was doing in there is none of your concern.”

“It- God, you’re so difficult. Did you know that?”

You could hit him. Really just slap him across the face.

“Me? I’m the difficult one? I’m not the one pressing up against you in the middle of the kitchen and simultaneously tormenting you every day.”

“I don’t torment you.”

“Yes you do.”

Gojo takes a step closer to you. You want to take one back but you let the distance between you two get smaller.

“I torment you because you drive me mad.”

“Why? What do I do to drive you mad?” You say, voice carrying out into the empty front porch.

“You just do. God, it’s like you don’t know how fucking gorgeous you look all the time. When you’re working out a question and you bite your lip. How smart you are, almost as smart as me. The way you just challenge me all the time and it’s all I can do not to kiss you to get you to shut the fuck up.”

You mouth moves but no words come out.

“Yeah, just like that. Silent.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And then you walk in here with the stupid dress. Your legs and your tits fucking glowing in the lights. And then you’re flirting with Geto and throwing yourself at Sukuna.”

He’s even closer now. Just like in the kitchen, except this time there’s no people searching for alcohol to interrupt you.

“And then you were in that pantry and I nearly broke the door down. And you walk out, and you have that expression on your face. Hair all messed up.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Your lip gloss all ruined.” He drags them over your lips. His thumb dips into your mouth and he lets out a shaky breath as your lips close around it.

“Hell, I could’ve fucked you right there.”

Before you can think about it, your hands curl into the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down and kiss him.

Gojo freezes for a second before he moans into your mouth. He returns the kiss with fervour, lips slotting against yours messily. Like everything the two of you do, you’re fighting. He pushes, you push harder. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He grins against you, tongue licking against your teeth and your gums. He moves from your mouth to your jaw. The part where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks marks onto your neck and they bloom onto your skin. You moan. Your hand card through his hair, and it’s just as soft as you always thought it’d be.

You moan his name, and he shakes his head.

“No. No, Satoru. Say it, say my name.”

“S-Satoru.” You whisper, and he shudders.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He hikes one of your legs up by his waist. Your dress slips up your thighs and you feel the heat rising up your neck. He uses your free hand to grip at your chest, mouth still working its way down your body.

“God, you taste so good.” He says in between kisses.

“Shut up..” You breathe out, head thrown back against the wall.

He stops then. Gojo looks you in the eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Really? You want me to stop?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. I want you to keep kissing me, I want you to stop talking.”

He hums under his breath. His lips are swollen and red, and he looks so good you reach forward for him again. But he stops you.

“No. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to do that.” You say.

“Come on. Use that beautiful brain of yours.”

You sigh.

“Please.” Your voice is flat and he laughs.

“Ah, you can do better than that.”

You roll your eyes at his smug face. He’s got you pushed against a wall, dress hiked up your thighs, and he’s got the nerve to be asking you to ask for things.

“Please, Gojo, please oh please will you kiss me. Your lips are all I think about, all I dream about-“

He cuts off your rambling by fulfilling your wish. You moan into his mouth, your palms sliding down his chest. He pulls back slightly, kisses your jaw, then your chin.

“See. So much prettier when you just stop talking.” He tilts his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off. I could say the same about you.”

He hums. His fingers trail down, down past your stomach and your thighs. They slip under your dress and your breath catches as he grins something devilish.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

——————————————————————

If you love enemies to lovers (specifically academic) PLEASE read all of Ann liangs books they r incredible!

[toiletwipes]

(i promise you) i will | clinic!wilbur

~1k words. / heyyyy this is all @drop-of-void doing. a little gift for them. and a little gift for you. thank you @sleeby-anon for proofreading <33 [siren trips into your home and makes the switch to be wilbur and lies in your bed, waiting for you to come home. he needs you, desperately. 18+, oral (with him receiving)]

He had slipped in through the window, no doubt covered in bruises all over his torso and he hissed as he took off his Siren clothes- the trench coat, the blue sweater, the voice modulator and the fucking blindfold- and stuffing them under your bed and slipping under the covers. You still didn't know and… it's not that he didn't think you'd understand. Plus, this, being tired and sleepy after a long day, you understand the feeling well.

You'd understand and you wouldn’t kick him out. You always told him to make himself at home, hell, he had a key.

(Whether or not you'd ask for the key back once you find out is another altogether that keeps him from sleeping at night, what keeps him from telling you.)

Not to mention that you'd be home soon too. He's so tired, he shivers in the cold blankets as he waits for you. Aching for your warm touch and attention.

Sure enough, when he woke up, you were sitting on the side of the bed, smoothing his hair out of his face. Smiling down at him. "Was wondering when you'd show up, you up for dinner?" And he shakes his head, unable to form words under the sleepy spell he was under, lifting the blankets so you'd get in. Thankfully you got the hint and he heard the tell-tale sound of shoes hitting the floor before the dip in the bed deepened, warmth spreading over him as your arm draped over his waist. The touch alone at his waist, especially with his shirt riding up so you were touching skin- it sent goosebumps to his arms.

"Wilbur, you're freezing." He sighs in soft hums, not even realizing how close he'd gotten, how he shoved his leg between yours and his face was in the crook of your neck. You're so fucking warm, how was he supposed to just let go and sleep on one side of the bed? By himself? Criminal. "It was that bad?" Flashes of the day behind his closed eyes had him curling around you tighter.

"Do you want to just sleep orrr..?" You trailed off, your fingers come up to tug at his hair and he couldn't help the shiver when you tugged a little too hard.

He didn't say anything about how hard he'd gotten after that, just let you hum as you ran your fingers through his hair, sorting out the tangles. He wanted to be inside of you but his insides were all gooey and he didn't want to move but god he is hard and you are so warm.

It was an accident, moving your hips and legs so that way your front was pressed against his erection. You stifled a laugh while he groaned. "Want me to take care of that for you?" And he didn't say no but he also didn't want to say anything. He wanted you, completely, though.

He nods.

You hum as you untangle yourself from him and telling him to stay up there, to use the safe word if he doesn't want it anymore and then you disappeared under the covers. It was getting warmer by the second but you paid it no mind, pushing his shirt up enough so you could kiss the hair trailing down his stomach. You could feel his cock twitch against your chest and his tummy trembled under your lips.

You kiss him all the way down to the band of his sweatpants, pulling it down to fish his cock out. Hot and heavy in your hand, you press a kiss to his shaft, getting to work in coating it with your spit. You're grateful Wilbur's especially sensitive now, his little gasps and whines make your own stomach burn with need.

At some point, you move to take his head in your mouth, sucking on it as your tongue covers the slit over and over and tasting the bitter pre. You could feel his hand covering his mouth, fishing the sheets and you couldn't go without hearing your boy. So while you took his hand into yours and guiding it to your head, you decided to sink your mouth even lower, hollowing your cheeks. You can feel his breathing heavy under you, can feel the vibration in his covered moans. You can feel him begging without speaking at all.

You come off of him, moving the sheets off of your head and seeing your boy red-faced and looking well and truly gone, his freed hand covering his mouth. You swing your legs over his, straddling him as you continue to stroke him. "Baby, I need you to tell me what you need."

His eyes squeezed shut as you tighten your fist around his cock, picking up the slow pace.

"Need- need you." You hum, slowing down again.

"I'm right here, baby, what do you need from me?"

He couldn't say it immediately so you let go of his cock, letting it smack against his stomach and shirt all wet. You lean down and kiss his temple, "Tell me what you need from me, d you want me to suck you off, want me to… fuck you, or something else?"

(He's so tired but with you so close, and he's so hard, he needs you so bad.) Coming out scratchy and soft, he begs for you to suck him again. You nod, sliding down his body and keeping eye contact when you pull his cock back into your mouth. His hand shakes as he reaches for your head, trying to bite down his moans and failing as you take him farther and farther into your mouth, swallowing around the head of his cock.

He cries your name, repeatedly as you work your hand around what you can't suck, taking your time as you listen to him beg. It's incoherent babbling and whining and it's so hot, it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

A little after your jaw begins hurting, his hips start twitching and your name falls faster off his lips and he tries to get you off but you sink your mouth further and further till your nose is pressed against his pubes. You blink past the tears and swallow again and again, moaning with him as he starts to jerk under you. And then his cock jerks inside of your mouth before spurting his come down your throat. You swallow as much as you can. And even after that, you wanted to keep him in your mouth a bit but with his hand patting your head, you came off. His cheeks, thoroughly red, and his eyes barely open to see you, he welcomes your kiss greedily, soaking in the attention you give him.

"Did so well, love. You did so good for me." You praise him, dusting his cheeks with feather-light brushes of your fingertips, watching himself close his eyes and try to bring you down. You giggle under your breath, "gonna clean you up and then we can sleep for a bit. Then we need to eat after." He nods and sinks further into your bed. It makes your heart swell as you get up and head to the bathroom. Taking care of him- you love doing it. You love him.

And yes, you saw the bruises under his shirt, it scares you. Deeply. You want to know who is hurting him and it kills you not to ask but you trust that whenever he's ready, he'll tell you. You trust him.

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 3

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

You sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over. What a… stressful first day. First, the other Lieutenant doesn’t like you, then the gift your fiancé gave you breaks, and you get the shards in your hand and have to have Soap help you pull them out. What a mess. You clenched your hand a little, sighing at the feeling of the wounds splitting open. These are the days you wish he were still- you need to stop thinking about him. He’s dead and gone. In the past. If only it were that simple. But it is that simple. It really isn’t. It is. It’s not.

You rolled over, glancing at the clock, and sighed— 1 am. You buried your face into the pillows and immediately relaxed. Your brow furrowed for only a moment before you fell asleep. The smell of citrus and cedar lulled you away to the best sleep you’d known in years.

~~

You were lying on the ground, a thick dust clouding up around you as you struggled to regain your senses, the sound of thundering boots approaching you, grabbing you by your vest, and attempting to pull you up. Keyword: attempting. You were quickly dropped as a red mist hit your cheek, the hulking man before you with a newfound hole in his head. He collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to shove his corpse off, the drop shaking you back to reality.

“Too close, Ghost.” You grumbled into your earpiece, wiping the blood off your face with the back of your hand. You recovered your rifle and shouldered it, moving to take cover.

“You’re getting sloppy. Did you eat when we told you to?” He asked, another gunshot coming over his mic. “I have a feeling you didn’t. I can see it, in the way you’re shaking.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice— which wasn’t lost on you.

“I meant that you almost got me too with that shot. Did you eat?” You asked, annoyed, “Why do you care? Christ, you sound like my fiancé. Always on my ass about eating…” You mumbled, turning to move forward, finally hitting the door you were trying to get to and shooting the lock off. You swapped to your sidearm, dropping low as you entered, waiting for Soap to catch up.

“What, we can’t be concerned for our teammate's health?” Soap’s voice came in over the comms, breathless like he’d been running. “We cannae do a ton with you operatin’ at fifty percent, can we?” He slipped in through the door, giving Ghost an indirect thumbs-up as he did.

“Right, because me being a little hungry is so much worse than you dodging bullets at every opportunity you get.” You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Look at you, you’re covered in scrapes and gashes… Ghost, you got our six while we’re in here?” You asked, poking your head out and looking for the glint of his scope.

It takes him a minute to respond, then a raspy “Yeah, got an eye out.” rung in your ears.

~

“Soap! You done planting those C4 yet? We got to get the fuck outta here!” You shouted, ripping the hard drives and USB sticks from the computers you found, hoping something might be useful beyond what you were sent after. You quickly shoved it all in your pack, running down the hall and dipping into the room he sat in.

“Yeah, lass! Let’s go!” He said, grabbing your arm and dragging you along as fast as possible to get out. At some point, you ended up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, being shaken about as he ran like a bat out of hell. You let it happen, not trying to run when you could barely see straight.

He dropped you on the ground face down, a puff of dirt kicking up around you. You got up on your knees, shrugging your pack off your shoulders, and flopped onto your back, trying to cool your pulse. You were shaking like a leaf. No, you didn’t eat. Before you could fully recover, your pack was snatched off the ground by Soap and you were quickly picked up by Ghost, who carried you much more delicately if not a bit tight— bridal style. The three of you booked it, the sound of trucks rumbling on the dirt path, getting closer with each second.

After an hour of running, the three of you finally settled in a dense patch of woods, taking a moment to breathe. Before you could think, they both shoved energy bars in your face, their expressions mildly annoyed.

“Eat.” Ghost nearly demanded, opening the bar and shoving it in your mouth when you went to protest. “I’m done carryin’ your ass around.” He huffed, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.

Soap closed his eyes, also leaning against a tree. “Where are we, now? We must’ve missed evac by a mile by now.” He sighed, pulling a satellite GPS out of his bag. “Sorry, two miles.”

You finished eating the bar that Ghost gave you, swallowing the last bite. You took Soaps GPS, fiddling with it for a moment before locking it on a clearing about 4 miles north of you. “We could make our way there, send the coords to Watcher?” You offered, handing it over to him and plucking the other energy bar from his hand.

He showed Ghost the suggested route, shrugging. “Could work.” Ghost only nodded, sighing a bit.

~

The car ride was quiet except for the grumble of the vehicle and the occasional bump making stuff roll across the steel floors. Soap had fallen asleep at some point and was snoring loudly, and you were fighting to stay awake.

“You should sleep.” Ghost's voice broke through the silence, making you jump a little.

“Don’t want to.” You said, looking at what you could see of him. It was dark in the cabin, so all but that creepy mask of his was in shadows. “You’re creepy.”

“So I’ve heard. You gonna fight sleep the whole way or…?” He questioned, turning to look at you. “If you don’t sleep now you won't get any until we get back to base.”

“I’ll sleep when I want to. Are you gonna sleep, or do you have the whole ‘I don’t sleep mehmehmeh’ vibe going on?” You asked, your joke making him huff in amusement.

“I don’t sleep. Not when I’m in the field.” He said, “Just sleep. You’re clearly fighting it, there's no use.” His hand came up to make you lean back to rest. You could only grumble before succumbing to sleep, your head lolling from the back of the seat over to his shoulder, despite the awkward distance between you two.

~~

He watched you as you raked the leaves from your yard into a pile, your focus waning slightly as you hit the same spot for the third time now. Simon went out, taking the rake from your hands and making you take a break.

“Did you eat, sweetheart? You look dizzy.” He asked, making you look up at him. Your eyes were unconcentrated, making him frown. “That’s a no. Go inside, love. I’ll finish up.” He kissed your forehead, sending you on your way.

“Was gonna finish this then do that, but sure, okay.” You grumbled, gently touching the spot where he kissed you. “Are there leftovers from breakfast?”

“Yeah. Go eat those. I’ll be in after a bit.” He called over his shoulder.

You went in and heated up the breakfast you made, taking the plate to the couch and watching him from the window. He’s so kind that you find it hard to believe that he’s a soldier. But then again, it was easy to believe he was a soldier. The scars across his arms and neck and face told all kinds of stories. Not ones you knew, of course, he would never in a million years tell you his tales of war. You were too precious to him, and he feared that you’d fear him instead of love him if you knew the horrors he witnessed and contributed to. But you knew. Even if they were vague hints and words of the ghosts that haunt him. You’d had to ground him from PTSD flashbacks on more than one occasion, and they were never pretty. After each and every one, he’d apologize, hold you close, call you his “pretty girl” and “love of my life”. He’d worry about making you go through that with him, even though you never minded.

You broke out of your trance when he sat his hand on your shoulder, making you turn up to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill of the autumn air, and his hair was messy from his stocking cap. You sat up on the couch, pulling him to eye level and examining his face. You ran your fingers over scars you’d memorized, then found a new one.

“You have a new scar. How’d you get this one?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a straight answer. You ran your fingers over it, bringing him closer to kiss it.

“A battle. Like most of the other scars. Nothin’ you need to worry about” He answered quietly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to fuss over every new scar, you know.”

“Maybe not, but is that going to stop me? No. I need you to know that I love you, even with all your battle wounds.” You hummed, closing your eyes.

[charmedreincarnation]

I manifested my dream life 🥳🎊🎉

Long post incoming ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Hi everyone. my name is Asanatu (call me sana or asa) and I just want to share my success story. Anyways, A+p, Intention, plus the void state was the method I always resonated with with. I also joined and was apart of tumblr pretty actively during the time when these were “the methods.”

I was making so much headway! I manifested money, better looks, better grades and mental health and I even mini shifted. Things were looking bright and I knew my shitty circumstances would be a memory of the past and everything would be easier. Then the switch to states, Neville Goddard,and Edward Arts happened and I was so lost. Then creators who even used the void or a+p were suddenly bullying and attacking people

for thinking thoughts create reality instead of states. They were attacking people for using the void and putting it on the pedestal even though they used it to achieve their dream life 🤡🤡 sucess stories dropped drastically, tensions were tight, and entitlement and shoving states down our throats was happening at an all time high. Honestly I gave up with the law and shifting bc I started to believe a+p truly didn’t work bc everyone was preaching that perspective out of no where even though we all started with that and people used it !!!!! Now the same is happening to non dualism…so it will be even more over complication and entitlement for the competition to be the most all knowing and debunker of the law. It will be less success stories, more tension, and paragraphs upon paragraphs on their beliefs but no success to show for it so I am most definitely leaving tumblr and for anyone who wants recourses maybe read and stick to the og creators from December for. Few posts and then dip

Expeditiously, pleaseee !!!!!

I also need to take accountability for

Myself. I’m sending this on anon mode because I have been so rude to so many bloggers and projected my newfound doubt to random, kind, helpful bloggers and I have to apologize. Most of them won’t see this because I’m blocked, but none of you guys deserved it. I would tag them but it was most Loa creators which is so embarrassing to admit, but again I apologize.

After having some self awareness I decided to stop being a loser and take accountability for my own life. I said fuck it and went back to a+p and the void state. I just affirmed robotically and used some subliminals for the void state from popular successful void blogs. After two weeks I got into the void state and manifested my dream life. After complaining and procrastinating for 6 months. As much as tumblr is toxic and the dumb entitled energy is radiating extra bright you all have to grow up and stick to what works for you. You have free will and godly powers no matter how many big headed bloggers try to intimidate you.

A summary of my manifestations from the void are: millionaire parents, 4.3 cumulative gpa, being apart of my schools honors society, dream graduation (it was yesterday) 10/10 looks, acceptance to Harvard, dream body and natural fast metabolism, being a master shifter, list of hobbies and talents, dream personality, huge mansion, cute kind rich bf, and being a desired it girl

I want to say so much more but Moral of the story is stick to what has worked you, take accountability for your journey, and ignore what doesn’t resonate with you.

I think a lot of people will relate to this. No matter what you believe in, whether that be states, non dualism, the void, a+p,etc just persist on your faith. Congrats anon and good on you for taking accountability for your own journey. I also can only speak for myself but I forgive you :)

Edit: a+p is affirm and persist

[tmntxthings]

heyy so I literally got this kind of idea like not really long ago, how about a donnie x reader fic/scenario/prompt where donnie makes a new AI hologram assistant (the reader) but ends up falling in love with them ?? (kind of blade runner 2049 inspired)

thanks ! luv your work (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

一∑ Dizzy・゜・。

author’s notes: so this may not be exactly what you asked for, this donnie is a bit… cagey? protective? overbearing! but hopefully the ending is a good indication that he did indeed fall?? :D

warnings: fluff, platonic to romantic, cursing, very unedited, & super short >.<

word association: sentience, slight yandere!donnie, light projection, holograms, creation, possessive, obsessive, fluff, change, feelings

song: “ Round & Round by Selena Gomez ”

—————————————————————————

“Y/n”

Donnie waited for you to appear in his vision as he was glued to a new construct. Both hands busy with small tools that required the utmost care and attention. And patience.

He waited a couple of more seconds before a crease appeared between his draw on brows.

Seriously?

“Y/n!”

Donnie shouted louder. There was no way you couldn’t hear him. He was this close to pushing up his goggles but like magic you apparated in his vision. A tiny version of yourself in the corner of his eyesight, “Yyyessss?”

You drawled, dipping forward dramatically but not obscuring his view of his hands so he could continue his work.

“Where are you?”

Habitually it seemed he had to ask you this. He was like this with Shelldon too. But ever since you started getting curious and venturing out of his lab, he just had to at least check in…

He would have just checked your holo-tracker but his hands were busy at the moment. So calling out your name was more efficient. His wrist tech was voice automated and connected to your system easily enough.

“And why did you ignore my first call?”

He questioned further, eyebrows still drawn. His tongue peeked out between his lips as he carefully pieced together two small bits in the right formation.

“I thought we agreed Donnie. If you didn’t need me, I could explore the perimeters!”

You glitched momentarily, moving from the corner to right in the center of his vision before going back to your original place with a raised brow.

“Yes yes. That was the agreement but addendum six was—“

You groaned.

“Y/n it’s been… how long has it been..?”

He just knew it had to be four or so hours since you last checked in. Which meant he could call! As per agreement! If you didn’t check in then he would worry and a time frame was even added into fine print for this very purpose! Donatello prided himself on thinking of every-little-thing!

“It’s been 30 minutes.”

His eyes widened. Looking at you now and squinting.

No way.

You sighed dramatically as you brought up the time. Sure enough. It was only 2:30 in the morning. Not 5.

“Ah, well my mistake.”

Donnie placed down the tools and pushed up his goggles. The zoomed in version of his project gone, as well as the time and your miniature self.

He could still hear you though with his headphones on.

“You didn’t answer my first question…”

He still wanted to know.

“I think that should be void considering you can just check now!”

Your voice was exasperated but it had a teasing quality.

“I’d rather you tell me,”

“With your brothers!”

“What?!”

No response. “Y/n?” No response still. He grumbled bringing his goggles back down and yep, you were gone. He shoved them back up and shot out of his chair.

Two years ago. Donatello went a step further from robots. A step further from Shelldon, definitely still a very proud achievement of his! You were a hologram program. One that connected just like Shelldon to all of Donatello’s devices and gadgets. But you didn’t have a physical body. You were a pure light so to speak. And while Donnie had agreed for you to explore…he hadn’t really disclosed another sentient being in the lab to his brothers.

Selfishly… Donnie had created you solely for him. While Shelldon had been sort of a prank but definitely for his brothers… you weren’t.

“Y/n.” Shelldon whispered harshly as he peeked out of the doorway from his lab. You were nowhere in the vicinity. He scowled. “If this is supposed to be funny, let me be very clear! It is not!” Then Donnie started to rush with his words while he crept further out into the lair.

“Those dumdums have no idea of your existence Y/n! For all we know they could— I don’t know! Attack?!”

You were radio silent. And it annoyed to Donnie to know end. You were ignoring him on purpose. Dragging him away from work to chase you down. And he would do the dragging this time, right back to his side if he must!

The further he went, the more apprehensive he felt. He could hear music. He could hear hollering. It was not the right cues that said ‘Y/n is just pranking me! They wouldn’t reveal themselves without my go-ahead! Surely!’ Yeah none of that was feeling close to happening right now. Donatello’s teeth ground together as he gave up being stealthy in favor of finally seeing what the fuck was happening.

And boy was he in for a shock.

As he cleared a corner that gave him a full view of the arcade that stretched down a distance away. The DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) was on, bass pumping throughout the room. A beautiful voice beckoning him closer like a siren’s song. Where Raph was dancing on one side. And you on the other.

Donnie stopped short. His breath catching as he watched your hologram dance, when your shoes met the correct arrows your whole body took on a glow of purple, blue, red, and yellow. It reflected throughout your entire being. You hit perfect after perfect, head tipped back in laughter as Raph started to trip up, losing his footing and sweating profusely. You on the other hand would never tire.

You were completely energized. You were having fun! It shined in your eyes. It reminded him of how you were when he first created you. When everything he introduced to you excited you.

Donnie felt like such an ass. Keeping you tucked away from the rest of the lair. From his brothers. From the world! As he watched you now he knew he was going to have to change. Because he surely wasn’t letting you go completely. But maybe he needed to loosen up, him and his contract.

Because he wanted you to be like this more. To smile more. To be exuberant and full of life! And he couldn’t stop smiling as you tilted your head towards him. You didn’t falter, you just smiled brighter and winked as the song came to a close and the points were tallied up.

Of course anything created by Donnie would be extraordinary at dancing. Therefore it didn’t surprise him one bit that you received a maximum score of 10,000,000. What did throw him off guard was the rapid pace of his heart. And maybe a bit dizzy? He hadn’t even been the one dancing!

Yeah this wasn’t good!

—————————————————————————

[hexonthepeach]

dive

pairing: f4!nct dojaejung x fem!reader (past johnny x reader mentions)

genre: hana yori dango/boys over flowers/meteor garden/f4 thailand reverse harem au (mild allusions and characterization only)

warnings: brief mentions of past bullying, dom!doyoung, hopelessromantic!jaehyun, mommykink!jungwoo, reader is a bit of a switch, smut (mmmf, double penetration, oral f & m receiving/giving, unprotected sex, anal, semi-public sex), degradation/humiliation kink (reader), pet names: baby, mommy (reader), puppy (jw)

wordcount: 10k

author's note: i wrote this as a distraction from other projects after listening to perfume on repeat and lamenting the end of promo. intended as a oneshot but i have some ideas for continuation. please let me know if you enjoy it (and more importantly, what you enjoy)

The Bangkok night is warm and thick and redolent with flowers. The expensive vacation home one of your three companions had arranged for your short stay is quietly luxurious, separated from the city bustle but still hazed with light past the high walls and thick foliage surrounding the pool. 

You'd never made a habit of asking who paid for what with your travel companions, but you guess by the mix of old world and new that it was Jaehyun's idea to stay here–perhaps even a Jeong family permanent accommodation. His family's import business had done well in the region, judging by the luxury sports cars parked in the driveway.

Everything about this trip is surreal–worse for the fact that a fourth presence lingers like a ghost in your periphery. 

He should have been here. Indeed, you've taken his place, filling the natural void like a small drop in an ocean-sized hole. 

Everything about this distraction brought you back to him: the rose petals strewn across your pristine bed, the snarling garuda statue lurking across the aquamarine oasis. 

Johnny is 8600 miles away and still very near. 

Jaehyun joins you at the pool's edge, slipping some well-concocted drink near your manicured fingers–most likely Jungwoo's contribution by the tasteful sprig of flowering basil. You'd refused multiple drinks at the club, still flagged from a day of travel and self-conscious of the eyes on your table and you’d finally agreed to one now that you were back safe in your own private enclosure.

He shucks off his sandals to dip his feet in beside yours, nudging you beneath the water to remind you that even with the grief that's hollowed you out inside, you're not alone.

Jaehyun doesn't speak–well accustomed to your need for silence when you've inevitably descended into that space again. 

Unfortunately, Doyoung isn't as accommodating. 

"What did we say about moping, Y/N?" A tall shadow stands beside you, swaying slightly. 

"I'm not moping," you say, sipping from your glass of Mekhong soothed with sugar and soda. "Just thinking."

"Wasn't the point of this vacation to get you to stop doing that?" Doyoung is touching his toe to the warm water when there's a sudden rush from behind you, a startled cry escaping the man before he hits the surface fully clothed. 

"Was he bothering you?" Jungwoo asks, looking completely unfazed about shoving the other man in.

"You bastard," Doyoung says, spluttering up and tossing his hair back as he holds his phone out of the water.

"It's waterproof."

"That's not–"

"I'll buy you a new one." 

"Now you're going to have him trying to return the favor," you say, giving him a sly smile.

"Oh I think I'll be alright," he says with a wink, backing up a few paces before cannon-balling in. If you'd been doused by Doyoung's ungraceful landing you're soaked thoroughly by the splash Jungwoo makes, finding yourself shielded by Jaehyun's torso wrapped around you. 

You hadn’t even thought to protect anything but your drink, your heart stuttering as you find yourself inches from his flushed face and rosy lips.

"You okay?" he asks, wiping water from your face with his silk sleeve. 

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Can't see the tears now, right?"

He blinks at you, believing you by the clouded expression in his dark eyes.

"I'm just kidding. Not crying, see." You smile at him as best as you can muster, hoping your carefully-applied makeup isn't running off your face. 

"Don't you want to join us?" Jungwoo has escaped Doyoung by pressing himself to your knees, shoulders well out of the water at standing level. You shake your head, suddenly shy.

"You should have let those girls come back with us," you say. "All that work wingmanning for nothing."

"Blame Doyoung for boring them talking about tariffs," Jungwoo says, ducking as the other shoves water in his direction. "Besides, we didn't want you to be alone."

"You know I don't mind, puppy." You tousle his wet hair, sipping deeply again. Through the fogged rim of your glass you catch his cheerful expression falter. It lasts only as long as he realizes Doyoung is floating on his back, swamping him with a tackle.

"I asked them to keep it just us for tonight." Jaehyun says, breaking his quiet. 

"Saving the party for Phuket!" Jungwoo shouts in the background, mispronouncing the first syllable deliberately to sound like fuck it.

"Have someone you're missing tonight, too?" Your tease lands with a thud, watching your best friend's mouth crease at the corner as he chews his lip. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude–"

"No," he says. "I know how you feel."

"How far away is Paris?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"5 hours," Jaehyun says, grinning slightly. It's a callback to so many months of watching him stare out towards the airport from the school rooftop with you, letting you listen while he mused on what she might be doing at that hour, how long it would take to get there. 

You'd encouraged him even as your heart broke–feeling the dwindling embers of a schoolgirl crush on him turn to ash. You would never be as good as his childhood love, even if you had taken up her place as his companion seated beside him on the piano bench when he practiced, or studying beside him as he drifted off into one of his many naps.

It was better this way–more comfortable just being able to be with him without the worry that you could live up to her, your heroine in highschool. But there would always be something there.

Doyoung clambers out to sit beside you, far enough away not to dampen the fuschia Versace metal mesh minidress he'd gifted you earlier. It was the perfect costume to play the part of nouveau riche jetsetter for a girl who lived one step up from a basement apartment. 

No one would mistake you for class, or even an influencer, but in their company no one was looking at you anyway. Most people thought you were Doyoung’s assistant or Jungwoo’s sister. The nasty looks, sometimes worse, always followed when they introduced you as their friend.  

"What can we do to make this a magical night?" Doyoung asks. You find yourself unable to answer, eyes caught on the smooth definition of his chest through the barely buttoned translucent shirt he'd worn out. You note he's lost the matching loose tie, probably still wrapped around a girl's neck on the dance floor.

"It's already so nice," you say, looking up at the blink of stars through the light pollution. "Thank you for including me." 

"You think we'd leave you behind?" 

The way he says you carries all sorts of strange subtext, considering your history. It had been a long journey from being mercilessly bullied and shoved into the dirt you came from, as Johnny had called it, to here. The lap of luxury, attended to by three specimens of wealth and privilege so out of your league you may as well be batting a thousand.

"Well it’s not like I got you in the divorce," you say, knot twisting in your chest. "I guess even now it’s hard to tell if you’re just being nice to me because you feel bad for me."

"First of all, he left all of us," Doyoung corrects. His voice is a little raspy, as if he's controlling his emotions. The admission leaves you questioning. You knew how close they were but they'd never shown any sign of being affected by Johnny's sudden departure.

Maybe you'd just been too busy wallowing to notice. 

“Second, you’re special. Too special to let just anyone play with. If you hadn’t noticed, we enjoy your company.”

"And when have we ever done something nice?" Jungwoo rests his arms on your knees, almost pulling you into the water. Jaehyun pushes him back with his foot, earning a tug on his leg that does little to move his immovable weight. 

"You're a package deal, though. Like a blend," you raise your mostly empty glass to drive your horrible attempt at a metaphor to death. “Even with one ingredient missing you can’t beat the original.”

“Well I won’t deny you're a strange substitute,” Doyoung says, gracefully using your words to make his point. It reminds you of how he’d spent hours drilling you with details of tea ceremony when your ridiculous coworker had asked for a demonstration of his family’s heritage business. 

“But taste requires innovation, and it’s often the unexpected addition that changes the entire flavor profile. You’re new but you’re refreshing, and unique. Not something to be discarded because anyone demands it.”

“That’s a very poetic way of saying you still like me even if I’m an uncultured pain in the ass.”

"Poor little weed," Jungwoo says, hands splaying over your bare thighs before Jaehyun can foist him off again. “Are you insulting Doyoung’s taste? You're the first girl any of us have agreed on."

"I doubt that considering what I saw last Friday. Did all of you sleep in Doyoung's room or did you take turns–"

You catch Jungwoo's scheming look with Jaehyun right before the cocktail glass is plucked from your hand and you're picked up on both sides, Jaehyun lifting you by the waist and Jungwoo taking over once you're free of the edge.

"Let me go," you shriek, folding over his shoulder. 

"Are you sure?" Jungwoo bends his knees until your hem is submerged, not phased as you beat on his back with soft hits.

"At least toss me in so you can get a head start," you threaten. He indulges you, lifting you up out of the water like he's going to help you recreate that pivotal scene from Dirty Dancing only to throw you back and into the deep end. 

You hold yourself in a ball and sink, breath held, channeling your best hello darkness my old friend as you wait for the inevitable. It takes less than ten seconds before Jaehyun dives in after you, pulling you up.

“Got you,” you say, grinning through the trickles of warm water. Jaehyun looks less than amused, lips thinning into a tight line as water drips from his bleached blond hair.

"Don't scare us like that," Doyoung gripes, joining you a few seconds too late. You shoot him and Jungwoo a look over your perch on Jaehyun's arm, clinging to him for comfort.

“Yeah, please.” Jaehyun breathes. 

"Is my makeup coming off?" you ask. He's been staring at you funnily as you float beside him, bodies brushed up in the expansion of his clothing and the occasional contact with his frame.

"What?" Your best friend sounds dazed, water collecting in his dimples as he smiles softly.

"What?" You parrot, teasing, mirroring him in the way your eyes dart to his mouth, not surprised to find his lip trembling. His uplit face is shadowed with hidden feelings you can only guess at. 

That years-old urge to kiss him returns. It could be considered revenge for back when he'd grabbed you and given you a taste of what it would be like that day after he’d come back from his trip abroad. You'd melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, the illusion only broken when Johnny had slammed the rooftop door shut on the way back down, flowers for whatever apology he'd half-assed scattered across the dirty tar paper.

You'd slapped him afterwards, surprised to find him smiling. He's in love with you, isn't he? Had to be sure.

There'd been so many times after that he'd played with your feelings you'd lost count, but one constant remained: he would never pursue you fully if he believed it would hurt his best friend.

Your chest feels tight just imagining what might have been, had you changed course back then. But you've long given up dwelling on might have beens.

Jaehyun is less mercurial now that he's older so you’re the one to catch him by surprise, lips pressing to his cheek right beside his mouth–in the smile lines you know too well. It's a quick send-off before Jungwoo can grab his legs and pull him under from below. 

Doyoung takes the opportunity to capture you by the waist, keeping you from becoming a casualty of their underwater fight. He looks just as serious as always, even without his usual glasses.

"Sorry about the dress," you say, working to stay afloat.

He laughs at you, prone to condescension as always. "If you like it we can get you another. But do you really want to wear the same thing twice?"

"Some of us can't replace our wardrobe every week," you huff. 

"Are you under the impression I'm replacing a bespoke suit collection every week? All I'm saying is you should have a new dress for every occasion. Especially if you're with us."

You jab him in the side, surprised at the hardness of his ribs but also delighted by his startled wheeze. 

"I'm not your kept woman."

"Not even if we want to keep you to ourselves?" 

A little shiver runs through you, making eye contact with him as he mouths the waterline. It's said so innocently but you know better. He and Woo had been dropping double entendres since well before takeoff from Seoul.

Flirting was Jungwoo's thing, a silver lining to the dark shadow of a personality that enjoyed being subtly in control. As the future heir to a crime syndicate it was much better than experiencing his hidden anger. Doyoung though . . . as much as he dabbled in shadier scenes and pretended to be a womanizer he's old-old-old money, from a strata inaccessible to anyone who's genealogy can't be traced back to the Goryeo dynasty. 

The idea of him folding you into his life, much less keeping you, is absurd.

“Well that does seem to go against the whole idea of this being a trip to finally get over . . . everything,” you say, deflecting from his intensity. “What happened to letting me live like the F4 for one week?”

“Is this not it?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“What if I want you to play wingman for me? Find me something meaningless to distract me?”

You're not expecting the dark storm that settles over his refined features.

“I think you have enough distractions here to keep you occupied.”

Your pulse picks up, hearing the hidden message loud and clear. He'd heard your laments to Jungwoo about how long it had been since you even thought about being with someone else, how you'd never really gotten to date after three brutal years of school, work, and accidentally making the worst chaebol tyrant in Seoul fall for you. 

Now that you're free for the first time in your adult life, you want to experience what it's like to be just another girl, like the ones they so frequently invited to their tables at function and club alike.

"Are you insinuating you're not going to let me bring anyone back if I find a fling? After I just spent all night singing your praises to a healthy pool of candidates? Double standard, much?"

Doyoung wraps an arm around you to keep your head from knocking against the tiled pool edge. He's backed you into it without you even noticing it. 

"You can try," he says, gripping the wall next to your cheek. "Though I would question the sanity and intelligence of anyone who took you up on it." 

There's his brand of cruelty: casual threats delivered without a hint of remorse. You'd been on the receiving end, perhaps were now, but you're not afraid of him in the slightest.

"You're not reporting all of this to him, are you?" 

Doyoung doesn't answer, nostrils flaring. 

"Or is he only texting 'Woo back?" you ask. 

"Who texted me?" Jungwoo asks with open curiosity behind him. 

Doyoung presses a single finger to your lips in warning, releasing you. 

"Didn't you get the number of that model? Miss Thailand 2016 runner-up?" You toss your head slightly to clear it, still feeling heat suffuse your cheeks from just a touch against your mouth. It really had been too long. 

"Oh she's too good for me," Jungwoo remarks, jokingly. "Besides, I already have a failed beauty queen right here." 

You snort. “In what world is second place a failure when it’s your first time?”

The contest had just been a university charity project but you'd worked hard to earn that spot after Johnny had entered you in as some kind of sick game from abroad. Jungwoo had helped you conquer it–had even got you a side gig modeling when his usual partner had dropped out at the last minute at one of his shoots. You’d just been there to deliver coffee and now you were on a cover being printed in 15 different countries. 

You always liked reminding Jungwoo of his Pygmalion moment because that's when you'd genuinely seen his kinder side–even if you suspected he may have threatened at least two of the judges to land you on the final stage. Losing had been worth it to spend time with the member of the F4 you’d never been close to in high school. 

"Maybe she doesn't deserve you," you say, swimming around him to grab him loosely around the shoulders. “Not many can appreciate having a personal rescue dog to save them from getting wrinkly fingers.”

You're immediately indulged, Jungwoo paddling you back to the shallow end where Jaehyun is lost in thought, staring at white blossoms from one of the trees in the courtyard floating in front of him. Doyoung is just as contemplative. 

It’s probably best to not let it stretch out any longer–you were always a fan of ripping the bandage off quickly even if it hurt. 

"I'm going to go take a shower and call it a night." You announce, hearing Jungwoo groan. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Jungwoo perks. Jaehyun squints up at you where you stand over him. You look at Doyoung instead, as he drags himself out of the water to sit on the ledge beside the stairs.

"Unless you tell me what we really are."

The buzz of cicadas seems to die a little, soft music inside the house drifting out through the glass. 

"Friends, hopefully?" Jungwoo says.

"Well you aren't bullying me anymore, so yes. But friends don't keep their friends from moving on from past relationships."

"That's not at all—" Doyoung begins.

"Let me finish," you interrupt. He's immediately quiet, throat bobbing as he looks beside you at Jaehyun's taut shoulders.

"I'll never fit in with you or your world but we both stopped judging each other for that a long time ago, I think. I like spending time with you, I like knowing you'll still include me even if . . . " You can't bring yourself to say Johnny's name. "Even if I'm just another ghost who's outstayed her welcome."

It was their term for dropped flings and casual encounters, with a whole subset of terminology for the ones who couldn't get the hint (poltergeist), or lost their cool at their dismissal by screaming and crying (banshees). 

It hadn't been like that for you even the second or fifth time Johnny had broken up with you–always for reasons out of your control. You'd shown him the same aggression and cruelty in answer, but you’d never begged for him to take you back, ever, and you certainly had never sought out his friends. 

It had always been their prerogative to spend time with you, and you’d leaned into it your freshman year of university study and singlehood, wanting the support network denied you by being alone and poor in a city you could barely afford. You’d never take their money but you had accepted their company, and had enjoyed it far more than you could have imagined. 

Even if it kept you in Johnny Suh’s outer orbit, what you had with them meant something to you. You didn’t want to lose it when he came back. From the press releases about his recent promotion, it would seem to be soon.

Waiting for that inevitability is like attending your own funeral before you’re dead, pallbearers for company. 

"You're not a ghost," Jaehyun says. "And we won't abandon you, ever."

"You'll just keep me and this dynamic trapped in amber until Johnny changes his mind, then? It's been a year already. I don't want to lose any more of my youth to him, and I don't want to lose you when he comes back and you all act like he's done nothing wrong."

"That won't happen," Doyoung says, sighing. 

"No, because I'll leave before then." You get out of the water, brushing your face free of the hot tears. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

Jaehyun pulls you back, strong enough you lose your footing and sink into his submerged lap. 

"You're not going anywhere," he says. There's no malice or anger in his tone, just quiet assurance. He cleans your face again, blue silk cuff coming away black with mascara. 

"You asked what we are. Remember when you used to come sit next to me under that stupid ad?" 

"Yeah?" you sniff. You'd spent hours with him sitting on a city bench as he stared up at a billboard for luxury clothing with her face on it. She’d been the dream he chased at your urging, the fantasy that had sadly broken with proximity.

"When I was in France, after things became clear, I would go and sit somewhere and pretend like you were there with me."

"I hope it was somewhere fun, like the Louvre," you joke. 

"Too crowded." He shakes his head, smirking. "Would look weird talking to myself."

"Oh you talked to invisible me but you couldn't pick up the phone once?"

He shakes his head again, squeezing you. 

"Anyway. The point is you're stuck with me. And them."

"And Johnny . . .?" 

"Stop bringing up our ex," Doyoung says. Not your ex, our ex. 

"It's a valid concern," you say, adjusting in Jaehyun's hold to rest your head against his damp shoulder. "I'm not going back to him. And I know you'll choose him over anyone else."

"No," Jaehyun says. 

"You're the exception." 

You lift your head to blink up at Doyoung.

"Didn't think you made those."

"Well you just haven't spent enough time with me, then."

"You planning on spending time with me?" You smile lazily, hand drifting to squeeze his leg. It's always fun to see his unflappable face twitch.

"He already blocked off half his itinerary for private tours. Jaehyun had to fight him to split it equally," Jungwoo says. Doyoung splashes water into his face with his foot.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says sourly. 

"Like the massage tomorrow morning?" 

This time Doyoung's kick makes waves wash over you and Jaehyun, leaving you spluttering.

Jungwoo takes it, smiling once his floppy brown hair is pushed back out of his eyes again. He grins at you from the water. "You'll take your dog for a walk when you remember I exist, right?" 

"Why not just come with us?" You'd often wondered if there was an invisible tether for how often they appeared together.

Doyoung clears his throat, Jaehyun shifting uncomfortably under you. 

"What am I missing?" You laugh awkwardly, looking between them. 

"I forget the only man you've ever dated never dated anyone seriously, either." Doyoung looks somewhat pleased with himself. "Traditionally when you spend time with someone you're interested in you don't have company–"

Shock runs through you like ice dumped over your head. "You can't be serious."

Doyoung's face is incredibly serious, Jaehyun's proving only a little more relaxed about the disclosure. You turn around to Jungwoo, floating nearby with a humored expression. 

"You're not part of this are you, 'Woo?"

"Of course I am. You deserve a break from stuffy museums and romantic dinners to have some real fun."

His eyebrows lower a bit in some sinister joke, and for the first time a little fear courses through you. It's been a long time since you saw their manipulative and controlling side, but bringing you to a foreign country to date you, their best friend’s ex, without telling you . . . That's a whole new level of it.

"This isn't a competition, is it?" You hide the tremor in your voice. 

"Between us? Of course it is," Jungwoo says.

"And the terms?" You look at Jaehyun, who is unable to meet your gaze. "Let me guess, whoever fucks me first?" 

His eyes widen in genuine dismay, panicking. "No, of course not–we just wanted to give you a chance to decide if . . ."

"If what?" 

"If you liked one of us more than the others," Doyoung finishes for him. 

You find yourself breathing heavily, face flushed. 

"What if I can't choose?" You ask, gaze fixing on Jaehyun's mouth as he bites his lip, still looking guilty. 

"If you decide you don't want to be with any of us, then things stay the same. Nothing changes. We'll still be friends." He says it all slowly, deliberately, almost as if it’s rehearsed.

"And if I choose one of you? Do I get to suffer the jealousy complex of another deeply insecure and emotionally unavailable man?"

That hits them where it counts. They'd all watched Johnny take out his fears on you, masked under bravado, posturing for an audience that more often than not was just you and his friends. His peers had rarely done the same, unless you counted Jungwoo following his enforcement orders like a loyal hound or Doyoung orchestrating clean-ups. 

No, they'd skated clean through multiple horrorshows by simply being there to throw their weight. No one else had the notoriety and resources to cover up the trail of damage left in Suh's wake.

You stand up again, turning between them. "And none of you are worried about Johnny finding out?"

A lump forms in your throat, bitterness about even having to invoke your own personal demon. Yes he'd walked away, but you knew his sense of entitlement would never allow his interests to be compromised by another–especially his closest companions.

And here they are, looking between each other and discussing your fate with the deliberate calm of a business transaction.

Apparently the only consequences were for you.

"Or is that the real game you're playing here," you ask. "Degrade me so far in his eyes he'll want nothing to do with me while you write me off as disloyal trash."

Jaehyun sucks his breath in through his teeth, and you note how hurt he looks. Jungwoo seems even more upset, full bottom lip jutting out.

"I know what you've been through, and I know it will be a long time to forget," Doyoung says. "But we're not him."

You remember an old saying your father had taught you: when you're holding a hammer everything looks like a nail. Better applied to problem-solving perhaps, but you'd also been dealing with one, giant nail-shaped problem since he'd crashed into your life. It was stuck in your heart and time and healing hadn't removed it. Maybe it was permanent, but you still had to live with it. 

"I just don't understand how you think you think this will work."

"You're awfully concerned about what he thinks," Jungwoo says, rising over you. "What about moving on?" 

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks. I'm just looking out for you. You know he'll punch first and ask questions later. What if he does something reckless?"

Jungwoo is laughing at you through closed lips, eyes crescented in mirth. "We have you to protect us, right? Just roundhouse kick him in the face again."

“That was lucky,” you say. “He wasn’t trying to murder me, either. There’s probably an American hitman on his way right now to take us all out and make it look like an accident.” 

“He would definitely hire locally,” Jungwoo corrects you. 

“And here I thought you were braver than that,” Doyoung muses. “Do you think we need his permission? You certainly don't.”

That makes you pause. You look at Jaehyun. Of all the people in the world he was the closest to their former leader. They’d fought even more than he and you had, and Jaehyun had always conceded, taking it on the chin, letting Johnny drag him along in his wake. The one time he'd stood up to him had been for you and it had almost fractured everything irreparably.

His black eyes pierce into you when he looks up. 

“I think y/n can make any decision she wants to,” he says dangerously. “None of us will stand in your way, whatever you choose.” 

“You promise?” you ask, tilting your head to let your wet hair brush over your bare shoulder. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Jungwoo says. 

You wait for the others to show visual signs of concession: Jaehyun nodding, Doyoung making the sign of the cross in what is an obvious misuse of the gesture. 

“Good. Because if Johnny finds out what I’m doing on this trip, he’s not the only one who will kill you.”

"I think we should start enacting a punishment whenever she brings him up again," Doyoung says.

"Great idea," Jungwoo says, sweeping you into his wet hold from behind. The chill you'd been feeling exposed to the air dissipates a little, his warm chest against your bare shoulders. You shiver a little at the intimacy, feeling him laugh even if he doesn’t make a sound.

“What will it be?” Doyoung defers to Jaehyun.

He leans back . “She does something to distract herself.”

You purse your lips together, affecting an air of deep thought. "My choice?"

"Always," he says, not breaking eye contact. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, then." You nod at him. He grins, Doyoung groans. Jungwoo's long arms wrap around your waist, hands already in position. 

"Surely there's a better way we could eliminate your options," Doyoung says, almost missing the cue and throwing paper to the other two's scissors. 

"Better luck next time," you tease.

"Kiss it for luck." The back of Jungwoo's hand presses to your mouth moments before Jaehyun initiates. 

Jungwoo loses the second quick round after a draw, crushed by Jaehyun's rock. 

"I should have known you were cursed." Jungwoo pouts, not letting you free until you've ducked back into the water to escape him. You give him a wink as you swim towards the stairs, emerging between Jaehyun's spread legs before he can close them. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, warily, still leaned back against the last stair.

"What I want," you say, blinking drops from your lashes. You move weightlessly on to his thighs, grabbing his soft face in your hands. He's unable to process what's happening quickly enough to respond as you tilt his face up and press a gentle kiss to his parted mouth. 

You ignore Jungwoo's wolf-whistle in the background, partially aware Doyoung has shifted nearby the moment you'd slid into your friend's lap. All that is noise as the gentle sound of the water feature drowns the startled sound you make when you're grabbed and pulled back to Jaehyun's mouth. 

This time it's real: solid and delicious as he crushes against you, tongue sliding across the seam of your lips until you let go of your held breath to softly exhale into his. Small dips of his chin coax you into opening for him, your hands threading into his hair to anticipate his movements as he kisses you like it's the last time in his life he'll ever get the chance. 

"That's enough," Doyoung says, Jungwoo booing him. 

The other two may as well not exist, your thumbs circling Jaehyun's cheekbones as you retreat to inspect the damage. He's usually so composed it feels like peering into a different universe's version of him, rapture and satisfaction warring with concern in his expression. 

"Thank you," you whisper. His eyes focus again, teeth exposed as he tongues them. 

"Any time," he says. It's funny how instantly he regrets the word choice, the pink in his ears and cheeks deepening.

"Not thinking about you-know-who now, are you?" Jungwoo asks, right behind you. 

"No," you say. "But I suspect you wish I'd say yes if only for the consequences."

"That was hot," he admits. "But I don't typically like my prospects thinking about other men." 

"Can I tell you a secret?" You crook your finger, clutching on to Jungwoo's wet patterned shirt when he leans down far enough to be in range. 

"I only made you play for it so we could find out who goes first." You say it in his ear, letting your mouth drag against the shell.

He pulls back, hesitant, nose brushing against your cheek. 

"Really?" 

"Kiss me and find out," you offer. 

He doesn't wait, lashes against his cheeks as he meets you halfway, tilting your head to the side for full exploration of your lips. He's much gentler than you expected, shy almost, tender even when your tongue meets his and you can taste the hint of sticky mango rice you'd had for dessert earlier. 

"Good boy," you say once you've broken free. He smiles in the way you're used to the most, right side of his face crooking with an edge of deviousness.

You turn to find Jaehyun watching, eyes starry with arousal but unreadable. Doyoung is on his feet as if he's preparing his exit, expression stony. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, meeting his calculating stare.

Doyoung opens and shuts his mouth, water pooling at his feet. 

"Not enough punishment for you?" There's an edge to your voice that you recognize as the tone you'd used many times before, in your idiotic quest to tame one of his own. 

The tension breaks when Doyoung laughs softly, crouching down and crooking his finger. You wade up the steps to meet him, hyper aware of the drag of eyes on you as you emerge from the water, dress clinging to your skin. 

"I planned out such a nice trip for you, and this is what you really want?" Doyoung asks, eyes traveling down your body and back to your face in the kind of assessment that you'd seen other people wither under. 

"Why do you think I agreed to come?"

“Noted.”

He nods, slightly, but makes no move to take what you'd already given the others. You don't let it dissuade you, fingers digging into the hard line of his shoulders to press your lips to his. 

It's like kissing a statue. A challenge you're willing to meet as you delve further, rocking him back on his heels. You pry open his mouth with gentle bites and licks between each kiss, past his perfect teeth until you can explore his tongue with your own. You don't realize your hands are fisted in his wet hair until you're done, finding him collapsed on the wet cement, panting. 

"Was that sufficient punishment?" you ask.

"For you? Absolutely not," Doyoung says, the rare full smile gracing his kiss-swollen mouth. "For them? Yes."

You glance back at your other two companions, clocking that they're both nearer than you remembered. Jaehyun's hand drifts over your hip, as if he's questioning letting you go in the first place. 

"Should we set some rules? Or are you all going to take them as an excuse to break them?"

Jungwoo chuckles. 

"No competition. Equal time, equal attention. And no possessiveness," you state. Doyoung looks up from under his brows with amusement, clearly enjoying your groundless attempt to set boundaries. 

"I don't care what you throw at me as long as you don't walk back what you said about our friendship."

"I think we're something different now," Jaehyun says, voice cracking.

"I know," you say. You run a hand over his head, feeling his temple come to rest against your waist. "But you crossed that line first. I'm just saving you the trouble of playing some silly game to come on to me. I'm not a prize to win. I'm a person who knows you all better than you think."

You turn to Doyoung again, holding your ground. "You said you'd give me the true F4 experience."

"Within reason," he demures. 

"Then lose your hangups and let me have a taste of what it's like to be just one of those girls you have no problem with having fun with. No special treatment, no regrets."

The stunned silence has you feeling a twinge of embarrassment at pushing your agenda this far.

"Impossible," Jungwoo answers. 

"Why not?"

He pulls the hair away from your neck to kiss beneath your ear. Gooseflesh appears on your arms even in the warm air, anticipating his answer, but he's too occupied with trailing his mouth down, sucking lightly over your pulse. You feel dizzy, hand reaching back to hold his head to you.

Once he's had enough of watching you unravel Doyoung jerks you forward, grip tight around your wrist.

It's a familiar gesture, a reminder you are at their mercy. He cuffs his hand around your neck like he's going in for another kiss, stopping at a few inches. 

"You don't get to set all the rules. This one especially. You are not just some girl with whom we engage in forgettable, inconsequential relations."

He pauses, eyes darting to your mouth before meeting yours again. "If we go down this path you're getting the real thing. All of it."

"We know you have experience." Jungwoo adds. 

Oh you knew. They fucked around but they were careful about it, always gentlemen, always above board. NDAs in some cases, mostly for Doyoung. You didn’t know all of their specific proclivities outside of Jungwoo exclusively chasing women a generation older but you suspected whatever they enjoyed was much less wholesome. 

Like Johnny's needs once he'd finally had you. He'd bent that way and much, much more. The difference was he'd never been as precious with you as they were with their little conquests.

If they didn't want the safety of a legal cushion it didn't mean they didn't need it–they just didn't think it would be a problem.

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of things about me," you say. A whisper of rage underlies the words, colored by so many rumors foisted on you well before you'd ever accepted their company–even more when they had. 

Whore. Cockslut. Used goods.

Johnny had always been a contradiction–surprisingly prudish about sex but quick to use the grossest allusions to it when pressed for details by his friends, liberal in his name calling. They'd known him since childhood–they didn't believe him, even if everyone else had taken his words as gospel. You'd had your revenge by proving just how true those words could be in private.

"We don't know anything you don't," Jaehyun says, quickly. 

"Still, I don't think you know what you're signing up for," you say. "If anyone is using anyone in this arrangement, it's going to be me. Or I'm out."

"You worried we can't show you a good time?" Jungwoo asks. It's a funny question with him pressed into your back like he'll push your head down into the water if you answer incorrectly.

"I'm worried you'll chicken out," you say, grabbing Doyoung's wrist to keep his fingers on you, covering them with yours to increase the tension. You'd always been strong.

Doyoung's expression is matched by his lingering hold on your throat, squeezing a little and making your eyes drift shut in pleasure.

"You always did seem to enjoy the humiliation a little more than our other targets. Can't say it wasn't an encouraging factor. You like it, don't you?"

He lets you go with a slight push, registering the way your eyes haze over with reflected lust.

"Yeah. Blame a few formative years of getting my signals crossed. Just part of the damage." There's no shame in your voice, another casualty of their efforts.

"You're not damaged," Jaehyun remarks.

"Not beyond repair," you agree, gaze burning into Doyoung's. His regard is a thousand times more revealing than a kiss, most especially the tic in his cheek every time Jungwoo decides to leave a mark with his tongue and teeth on your throat and you reward him with a moan.

"Should be fun seeing which one of us can push past your comfort zone, then," Jungwoo says, breath cooling the last bruise he's left on the back of your neck. "Find out if you have one."

"You're not dropping the competition?" 

Nervous anticipation gives you butterflies, different than the ones springing up being teased by the three of them. Not one of them accepted being outclassed.

"No." Jaehyun says it well before the others. His hands drop to your legs to hold you steady as Jungwoo continues his assault on your neck. "But equal opportunity. I think we can all agree on that."

"Don't worry, we'll play fair," Jungwoo says, biting your shoulder. You jerk in his grasp, vaguely aware of fingers at your hem. Doyoung continues to watch, tongue darting over his lips.

"I hope not," you say. "I won't."

It's all the permission your captors need.

Your breath stutters as Jaehyun's hand slides up your inner thigh, circling the wet skin absent-mindedly. You whine a little, teased by the first intimate touch you've had in months.

"You better stay quiet. We do have neighbors," Doyoung says, voice pitched low.

"Think you can shut me up?"

He takes the hint, sliding his legs back over the ledge, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt to expose his creamy skin. You spread your fingers over his firm abdomen, flicking aside the sheer fabric. He's intoxicatingly sensitive, muscles tensing as you follow the path of water down his long waist.

"You sure you want to play this game?" Doyoung asks, hand resting on your shaking fingers as you struggle to unbutton his damp jeans.

You look down at Jaehyun, smiling at him when you find he's still enraptured by your upper thighs. You wait until he looks back up, head cocked for permission.

"You alright with sharing me, tonight?"

Miles are crossed, bridges are burned as he contemplates the ask, returning to his shy efforts at warming your naked skin, lifting your hem to dangerous territory.

"Wouldn't dare stand in your way."

Jaehyun's approval is the best thing you've seen in a long time, even more so when he adjusts to be eye level with your now exposed underwear, back pressed to Doyoung's leg. 

Jungwoo tugs at the strap of your dress playfully. 

"Can puppy wait his turn?" you ask, looking up at your other torturer. 

Jungwoo kisses you over your shoulder, messily, before casually breaking one of the thin straps of your dress where it's attached to the delicate gold cherub adornment. The night air pebbles your skin, exposed nipple hardening more as he trails a fingertip lazily around it.

"As long as you need." 

He angles you down a bit towards the other man, just as Jaehyun's mouth finds you through the thin fabric of your lingerie–hot and perfect. Your knees are already weak and you have to catch yourself on Doyoung's thighs as you're touched and kissed and licked, still partially submerged and torn between warm and warmer.

There's a bit of menace in Doyoung's face, watching you unzip and find his length. He adjusts a little when you tug down the elastic waistband of his underwear, his cock already mostly erect despite the water. He's not as big as Johnny but perfectly sized, long and veined as he hardens in your hand. 

You experiment with laves of your tongue against his flushed head, watching him for a reaction through your lashes.

"Sucking me off before I can even take you on a proper date." He tsks, the sound changing when you lower your head, tongue folding around his tip to devour him whole. 

"You look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says. "Wish I could take a picture–"

You cut him short by taking him deeper, feeling him press at the back of your mouth. It's been awhile since you tested your gag reflex.

Thankfully Jaehyun has compromised on watching you while pushing your underwear into your sticky folds, Jungwoo playing with your breasts in the most maddening way possible with soft flicks and tugs. 

Both of them are sending you skyrocketing to a level of joy yet unexperienced this lifetime, much less this year. You have to concentrate on Doyoung to keep from falling apart too quickly.

Jungwoo's long fingers help clear your hair from your face so you can breathe, giving them all a better view as you choke, letting drool slip from your mouth as you take it deep and hard. 

The noises coming from your throat are nowhere near as obscene as the sounds Doyoung makes, angled back and thrusting weakly with each moan. You always thought his voice was beautiful, scratchy and breathy, but hearing him say your name in between gasps has your entire body enflamed. 

"Fuck, you're good," Doyoung says quietly, angled back on his elbows. 

Jungwoo holds your damp hair back, wrapping it in his fist to help guide you more gently. You relax your throat and take it, tears leaking from your eyes. If touch had you vibrating before, the sensation of being debased in this way has you dripping, your arousal exposed by Jaehyun's fingers slipping your panties down to the water.

"She's soaked," he says, running a single finger through your folds. You answer with a groan, other hand in his hair to hold him back before he can dip in again.

Jungwoo tests you, too, giving you a few swipes to collect your slick. He brings his fingertips to your mouth when you finally take a breath, letting you clean them.

It's delightful how Doyoung is unraveling already, arched back, eyes glassy. He drinks in the sight of you sucking two of Jungwoo's fingers until your cheeks hollow.

"You think you can finish what you started?" you ask.

"I don't think I'll ever want it to end," he admits.

"How about coming on my tongue?" You ask, pumping him slowly. You chase the taste of yourself with kitten licks of the beads of white on his head, going lower to trace his veins. 

"Only if you want to swallow everyone tonight," Doyoung says. The offer is tempting. You hesitate long enough that he reads you like an open book, adding an edge of threat. "Or do you want to be stuffed like the little whore you are?"

The affectation has you seizing up in long-withheld gratification. Jungwoo grinds against your ass as Jaehyun ignores your hold to finally lick long paths up your inner thighs, chasing trails of slippery arousal and water to dive in, fingers spreading your legs wide.

It's impossible to find a retort, sinking back into Jungwoo's embrace as you're attacked from below.

"I think you should only fuck me if you can make me come," you counter. "And it's still Jaehyun's turn–"

Your words are punctuated by a cry, Jungwoo's hand clapped over your mouth as Jaehyun pumps into you with two fingers, hooking into your g-spot.

"Ooh," Jungwoo says over your head. "Guess you'll have to wait." 

Doyoung sighs, taking over with his hand when you're bodily dragged back, Jungwoo lifting your dress to take it off. 

"Leave it on," Doyoung says. "The ravaged look suits her." 

You shoot him a look, unable to maintain your expression when Jaehyun's mouth works likes he's devouring you in turn, teeth scraping as he explores every inch of you, teasing your clit with darts of his tongue. Jungwoo frees your mouth to let you breathe, babbled words of praise spilling from you in between small cries.

"So good, so right, god, fuck–fuck." You're inarticulate as Jaehyun pumps his fingers slowly, spreading you and pressing right below his languid tongueing. Jungwoo's attention returns to your sensitive breasts, gently twisting each bud between his fingertips. 

"Keep it down," Doyoung warns, but it's impossible. 

Electric tingles spread down to your toes, tipped against the smooth pool floor. You let yourself relax in Jungwoo's hold, curling over your lover's head. Jaehyun is incredibly careful with you even as you're brought deeper, water lapping at his collarbones as he holds you spread and licks you in broad swaths. 

"Need a hand?" Jungwoo asks, somehow catching Jaehyun's nod mid-effort. You're unmoored by the hand that slips in from behind, fingers curling into you shallowly, water lapping your immersed buttocks. Jaehyun gives up control but he's still also buried in you, drawing wetness out of you with each stroke of his fingers.

Jungwoo matches his speed, knuckle to knuckle, as Jaehyun moves up to apply pressure to your clit again. 

"You two can get her ready. I want her after she's been used," Jungwoo says. 

"Of course you do," Doyoung says, dropping back in the water, demanding your attention. You indulge him with your hand, pumping him loosely beneath the surface. It's hard to coordinate as Jungwoo's hand fucks you into the pressure of Jaehyun's grip tight on your upper thighs, each circle of his tongue on your clit making your vision shimmer. 

"She's so close. Bet we can make her squirt." 

"No," you say, automatically self-conscious. 

"Did you hear that? She thinks she has a choice." The heel of Jungwoo's palm smacks wetly against your ass as he finger-fucks you, already too much before Jaehyun seems to pull you towards him, pressing hard into your walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, completely at their mercy as Jaehyun applies suction to your clit to bring you to the brink. 

"Come for us," Doyoung says. He's pressed to your side, rutting against your waist while taking your mouth to keep the shriek building inside your throat muffled.

There's no controlling the powerful waves tearing through your core, your legs shaking and buckling as the orgasm begins and doesn't seem to end, torn from you between all three of them. A hot gush of liquid coats your thighs as you throb around their fingers, pleasure morphing into pain until you're begging for them to stop. 

Jaehyun is the first to let you go, rising to share your release with a crushing kiss that takes your breath away, Jungwoo's fingers still reaching deep inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwoo says. "Was that your first time?"

You nod, cheeks hot, forehead pressed to Jaehyun's. You cling to him, still not quite down to earth from your climax. 

"Thank you," Jaehyun says, laughing slightly. "Was that too intense?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just hold me, please."

"Forever," he says, lifting you to straddle his hips. He manages the stairs to collapse on the deck, wrapping you tight in his arms as you kiss him deeply, cleaning his face of your release with gentle swipes of your fingers.

"You sure you don't want to go inside?" he asks, when you begin to unwrap him from his shirt. 

"I need you so much," you say. "I can't wait another moment."

He grins, shyly, kissing you as you help him out of his undershirt to reveal his swimmer's frame, triangular torso buckling into visible abdominal muscles. He's breath-taking, even more beautiful when you help him out of his pants and underwear to find his thighs flexed beneath his hard cock, shorter but thicker and so perfectly full and ready for you to sink down on. 

He doesn't question taking you raw–brow furrowing in concentration as you adjust to his girth slowly.

"We'll do this without an audience soon," you whisper, hoping he can still hear you as he bottoms out in your heat and his eyes flutter shut. 

"Yeah," he says, breathily. He's not moving, soaking in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him. "I couldn't wait, either. You feel just as perfect as I imagined."

"So good," you assure him, moving for him. The lingering effects of coming harder than you think you ever have in your life aren't stopping you from bearing down on him, taking him harder and deeper with his wide shoulders for leverage. 

"Fuck, baby," Jaehyun growls. "I'm not gonna last like this."

He takes control with a firm grasp on your waist, pumping up into you. Soon he's bouncing you mercilessly into his hips, laid back on his wet clothes.

You haven't forgotten about the other two men, not when Doyoung's kneeled behind you, straddling Jaehyun's legs to stroke himself against the swell of your ass. 

Jungwoo grabs your hand to wrap around his own exposed cock, letting you feel him before you can even take in the sight of him bobbing over your head. Your finger and thumb can barely connect around his shaft, length too much to fit half of it in your mouth before you know it will be in your throat. Now you understand why the screams you'd heard from his room always sounded on the borderline of pain. 

"Too much for you?" He asks, angling the velvety soft head to catch on your open lips. Jaehyun slows down his thrusts to let you ease into taking the other man, pumping Jungwoo's base as best as you can as you sloppily accept the suffocation.

"Must have had a lot of practice getting your throat fucked to take me so well," he says, angling your head to move past the back of your tongue. You can't answer so you squeeze his balls instead, applying just enough pressure with your nails to have him groaning in appreciation. 

You lose your rhythm when you feel spit drip down your back, Doyoung collecting your earlier release from your thighs and mixing it with his saliva to rub his fingers against your puckered hole.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for all of us?" he asks, pressing a digit into the ring of muscle, causing you to choke on the heavy weight in your mouth.  

Jungwoo pulls out, saliva trailing from your lips as he gives you a break to adjust. You press your forehead to the sheer tank separating you from his flat belly as you look over your shoulder.

"I can take it," you say, trying to relax. Doyoung inserts another slender finger, making you clench around him and Jaehyun until the other man is panting. 

"I didn't ask if you could take it. I asked if you were going to be good."

"Fuck me and find out," you taunt. He's not like the others–he denies you anything but the wedge of his fingers into your ass, adding a third to stretch you when you're not loose enough. 

Jaehyun fucks against the intrusion, holding out until you're closer as he twines his fingers with yours and watches you work Jungwoo's oversized cock in your mouth and hand. 

"Knew you were a little slut who wanted to have all her holes stuffed. One of us wasn't enough for you, you had to make us share. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little ass, though."

Doyoung drops another gob of spit on the dimple at the base of your spine, letting it slide over the gape left when he slides out his fingers. You cry out at the first intrusion of his cock into your barely-lubed hole, fighting to stay on top of Jaehyun as he works in with shallow thrusts, inch by agonizing inch.

"Keep forcing me out," Doyoung says. "I'll just fuck you harder." 

As if to prove his point he grabs on to your ruined dress at the back, arching your spine for you and making you take him deeper. The burning pain blurs into delicious aching pleasure–you needed this more than you could have even imagined. Jaehyun grunts inarticulately, palming your breasts and squeezing them in time to the ecstatic shudders rolling through your body as you're filled. 

"Open up for me," Jungwoo says, cock back in your gaping mouth. You let him hold you by the hair to fuck into your mouth, spit and tears mixing to splash on your breasts. 

When they resume their individual efforts you feel yourself being pulled apart by sensation, only able to manage sharp breaths through your nose to keep from drowning as tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from your throat. 

"No cumming until she creams herself on Jaehyun," Doyoung says, reaching around to press hard into your clit. It's a hard ask with how overstimulated you already are but you can feel your muscles tightening against your will. Doyoung and Jaehyun's uhhs and mms mix in your ears, Jungwoo softly praising you when your jaw relaxes to swallow him despite the rock of your body against the other two. 

"Fuck she's so tight," Jaehyun says. "I don't know if I can wait."

"Wait." Doyoung orders, picking up his pace. "She's close. Make sure she remembers to breathe."

Jungwoo groans, pulling out with a last slap of his head on your tongue, letting you lap at the precum leaking from him. "You two are useless." 

He kneels down beside you, wresting Doyoung's hand away from your sore folds and rubbing soft, tight circles around your nub. It's not the stimulation as much as his mouth on yours, kissing with as much care and intimacy as you'd felt before, that carries you to a peak again.

"Oh fuck," Jaehyun says, lifting you with a last upwards jerk of his hips and spilling inside you. The rush of warm heat is so good you chase it, overworked muscles unable to hold against the sensation and twitching powerfully around both of their cocks buried deep inside you. 

Just as quickly your knees give out, collapsing half on Jaehyun and Jungwoo. Doyoung's shallow movements turn violent as he no longer bothers to keep you locked on Jaehyun, thrusting a few more times into your throbbing heat before emptying himself and pulling out to rub the last few spurts onto your skin.

"Shh," Jungwoo says when you continue to whimper, sniffling from the tears sliding down your cheeks. "You're almost done."

You shake your head half-heartedly, clinging to his shirt. You're dizzy, adrenaline fading and leaving you boneless and blotted out.

"Please. Maybe just a breather?" you beg. "My legs . . ." 

Jaehyun lifts you, and you hiss at the raw pain of your abused knees, grit brushed away by someone else's hands.

"Poor baby." Doyoung says. "Should have done this in bed but you just couldn't wait."

"'S fine," you mumble, swimming in the glow of your last orgasm. "Bed sounds nice."

"Get a towel," Jungwoo says, and Jaehyun rushes to grab one for you. Instead of cleaning or drying you off Jungwoo carries you to the edge of the pool, slipping in and cramming the soft fabric under you as he lets your legs dangle over the edge and into the water.

"What are you doing, puppy?" You manage to ask, holding on to his neck.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful," he says, palming himself between your legs. "Someone want to keep her head up? I need her to watch." 

Jaehyun adjusts to embrace you from behind, spreading your limp legs so they can all see the steady leak of cum from your gaping holes. You hear the telltale click of a picture being taken, distantly aware Doyoung's phone is still–obviously–working.

"What . . . ?" You ask drowsily, acquiescencing to the pull of your dress over your head and off of you. You shiver deeply, warmed by the body heat of the man behind you as the other strips in front of you. 

"You're going to come for us one more time," Jungwoo says, rising out of the water to pump himself at your leaking core. "I'm not letting you go until I can wring every last drop out of you."

"Fuck," you protest, writhing as he pulls you almost off the hard deck and onto his ready length. Jaehyun holds you tight, arm under your breasts as Jungwoo slides into the mess of cum and slick between your thighs. 

"That's right, take it," Jungwoo says, pinning you against Jaehyun. "Breathe, baby." 

"Too much," you sob, finding he's not even fully sheathed when the familiar ache in your belly of being hit too deep whites out your brain. 

"You don't want your puppy?" Jungwoo can barely speak, ramming in deeper with each rock of his hips. "Don't want to be a good mommy and take all of me?" 

Jaehyun is already semi-hard against your back, and you catch Doyoung's approval before he replaces it with a feigned look of disgust, slipping into the water to watch you both. You can see his arm flex, jerking himself underwater, the other holding his phone up. 

"If we'd known you were such a whore we would have fucked you sooner. It looks like you'll need some more breaking in."

You cry out, stretched tight around the thicker root of Jungwoo's cock, letting him wrap your legs over his shoulders for maximum depth. Whatever pain you feel is so merged with the fullness and perfect hit of him against your walls that you don't mind it, you can't help but slip into a dreamy state of bliss. 

"You're doing so well," Jaehyun says into the hair at your temple. "Can't wait to treat you right. Make you come on my tongue again as many times as I can before the sun rises."

"No, no, no," you moan.

Jaehyun pinches your nipple to wake you up, Jungwoo gasping when you manage to clench around him. 

"You both got her pussy first. You should let me take her tonight. Keep her awake by fucking her as soon as she falls asleep." Doyoung threatens, pulling your leg aside to get the best angle of you being impaled and stretched fuller than you'd ever thought you could be. 

"No one's getting her if she doesn't come again," Jungwoo says. He meets your tear-filled gaze, eyes half-lidded. "Is that what you want? To fall asleep on my cock and let me warm you all night until you're ready to fuck me?"

"Please, come for me, puppy," you manage to bite out, touching yourself in earnest to try and fight back. "So big for me, fill me up."

He takes the bait–you're folded in half, legs bent to your chest as he drives in, balls slapping wetly against you. When you're pliant again he readjusts his strokes to press into your upper walls with each rotation of his hips, and for the first time in a long time you realize you're getting close on cock alone. 

Jaehyun seems to feel the change in you, grinding against your back as his hand holds your throat so you can't turn away. The pressure makes you practically feral, crying out for more. 

"Just like that, like that, please please please," you moan over the lap of the water.

"Feel you sucking me in," Jungwoo says, face flushed and sweaty over you, hair dripping water onto your curled belly. "Let go for me so I can come in you so deep you can taste it."

"Yes, yes, please." You buck with the sudden electric tingle of another climax, steady tempo leading you to softer spasms than before. It's fine if you can't tell where you're at or what you're feeling because Jungwoo can, one final snap of his hips dropping you into fucked out darkness. 

When you come to again you're wrapped around him in the pool, gasping at the sensation of his cock still slowly pumping the last of his release into you.

"Trust me," he says, hands under your backside, lowering you into water suspended between the night and the warmth below. 

Doyoung spreads a hand over your breasts, Jaehyun beside him to hold your neck like he's teaching you to float. You let your mouth fall open and your eyes clench shut, tasting pool water before one of them–Doyoung probably, by the sounds--releases thick, white stripes across your tongue. Jaehyun follows suit, cockhead nudging against the underside of your breast as he paints your torso with molten heat. 

"Fuck that was incredible," Jungwoo says, slipping out of you finally so you can sink into the water. You submerge as much as you can to lose the coat of stickiness, until Doyoung decides you're done, pulling you out and against his chest.

"That was . . . a lot," you admit, shaking against him. 

"You did so well." He soothes you with a hand on your head, clearing your hair from your face delicately to press a kiss to your forehead.  The gesture is so at odds with his recent persona that you can't resist burrowing into it, relaxing fully against his naked chest. "Not bad for an initiation."

"I'm one of you, now?" you murmur. 

"Always were," Jaehyun says. He doesn't dare take you from Doyoung but he does lean down to kiss you deeply, hand running broad circles over your spine.

"Just think of all those red cards as an invitation." Jungwoo jokes, sinking down to eye level to caress your cheek. 

You remember scraped knees and busted lips, cafeteria trays dumped on you by entire tables of jealous girls and sycophantic boys. Johnny humiliating you, ordering you to clean his shoe with his tongue when you'd taken the place of your weaker friend who'd spilled on it. 

But you also remember the small moments of acknowledgement–the way Jungwoo had lingered outside your work waiting to get off when you closed to walk you home at night, or how Doyoung had bought out the entire store when you'd used the shitty part-time job as an excuse to duck out of being his date to a formal dinner you had no business being at. 

And most of all, all those hours spent sitting beside Jaehyun in your rooftop retreat, silently appreciating the late afternoon sun turning the city brilliant as you shared one half of a wired headphone.

Maybe having your heart ripped out was worth it, if it meant having this.

"Which one of us do you want to take care of you tonight?" Doyoung asks. 

You smile into his cool skin, melting into the knowledge that you've earned a place very few had shared. You'll enjoy it as long as it can last.

"Play for it."

[moonlight-prose]

#10 "why are you doing this?" "because I love you" with Joel from the prompt list? The angst potential is limitless but also the fluff ♥️🤌

THE WASTELAND OF A BLEEDING HEART

a/n: i took a small writing break for a few days, but i finally managed to churn out the end of this fic. it's not my best thing i've written. to be entirely honest i don't really like how it turned out, but we live and die by the pen right. i hope you like it babes.

summary: joel's fears began to interfere.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, angsty ass joel, stubborn joel + stubborn reader dynamic, miscommunication (cause...*gestures to joel* yeah), fluff.

You had every right to be mad at him. After what you two had gone through, the way he had been treating you, gave you enough reason. You should be mad at him. But then he looked at you, his lips pulling up into a barely there grin, brown eyes pulling you in, and you knew…the anger would never last.

Until now it seemed.

“Miller!” you called out, jogging to catch up with Tommy, his quick pace a little too fast for even you. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire,” he smiled, his hands shoved in his pockets to stave off the cold.

“Good.” You should have grabbed your thicker jacket off the back of the chair. Although it never even occurred to you at the time. Not when your mind was going in a million different directions at once. “I’m looking for Joel—”

You stopped at the sight of his expression shifting, quickly being masked by another carefree smile. Yet you could see beneath his facade; caught the glimpse of worry in his eyes that darted away from you. That was the problem with Tommy Miller. He was too easy to fucking read. Which left you in a predicament such as this.

“What happened?” you asked, noticing how he barely even looked at you.

“Joel uh…”

Your brow creased. “Joel what?”

“Listen it wasn’t my idea and if somethin’ is happening between you two—”

“Tommy.”

He sighed, glancing up at the sunlight that seemed to be the only warmth in Jackson. “He told me to take you off the outdoor patrol shift.”

“He—” You felt your chest tighten painfully, that familiar feeling of loneliness settling back in your bones. “Did you…take me off?”

Tommy nodded reluctantly, his eyes never once meeting yours. “Said he didn’t want you to get hurt, and I…well shit I kind of agree with him.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” You felt the burn in your chest begin to spread—an uncomfortable sensation you always hated. “You can’t just take me off patrol when everyone is supposed to—”

Tommy’s eyes finally snapped to you, his lips forming a thin line. “I know you’re pissed, but think about it honey. If Joel loses you…there’s no coming back for him.” He sighed, dipping his head to glance at the icy covered ground. “I’d rather not bring back that version of my brother.”

Pain erupted throughout you, clogging every part of your body until you could feel your heart screaming. Though Tommy wore the face of a sorrowful man, you knew that he had simply taken away your initiative. He made the choice for you just as Joel did without bothering to let you in on any of it. Anger simmered beneath the surface of your pain; the mask you were wearing—clear and free of any emotions.

Somehow that made Tommy’s expression even worse. He would never truly know how hurt you were, because you wouldn’t tell him.

How could you?

“Have a good day Tommy,” you said, your voice void of any emotion.

“Wait—”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything more, too focused on the fact that Joel had once again made a choice for you. Simply because he believed it was the best option. Part of you wondered where it stemmed from; why he was so adamant on keeping you in the town limits, unwilling to let you go. Except then you began to count. Each person Joel lost, each tragedy he had to endure, all added up to something in the end.

Hours later you found yourself still thinking about it as you attempted to engross yourself in a novel. One you read over and over again, too stubborn to let it go. Maybe that’s where you and Joel were the same. Two people who couldn’t find it in themself to allow change in a world that had already taken away so much.

The familiar creak of the front door brought you back for a brief moment, your anger flickering to life in your chest. Joel simply grinned at the sight of you curled up in a chair, one of his shirts adorning your body. A blanket so old he was worried it was unhealthy to be around, was spread out across your legs. 

Except that’s not what stopped him in his tracks. The glare he felt burn through his chest, plummeting straight down to his stomach, caused him to freeze. His eyes tried to search your steeled expression for an explanation.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tommy let me know today that you told him to take me off the patrol shift.” The ire in your voice surprised you.

His eyes fell shut, a breathy shit leaving his mouth. “I was gonna tell you—”

“He said you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“That’s true,” he replied, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair. “Can I explain please honey?”

You stood, letting the book and blanket fall to the floor. “No. You don’t get to make those decisions for me Joel. I’m more than capable of handling myself out there and you more than anyone knows that.”

The step he took forward coupled with the look on his face nearly bent your resolve, but you stood your ground. You were upset with him for a reason.

“I told Tommy to let me tell you first before doing anything rash. Apparently he still doesn’t listen very well.” He sighed, his hands falling to rest at his hips as he saw your guarded demeanor. “I just don’t want anything happenin’ to you.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to make that choice for me,” you said. “I just want to know why. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.” The words were blurted out before he even comprehended them himself. His eyes widened slightly, mouth snapping shut as he waited for your response.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands falling to your sides limply. “What?” you breathed.

Two months ago you had said those exact words to him in the safety of your bedroom. The fear of setting them free continued to linger in the back of your mind. Yet there he was. Finally telling you the one thing he was most scared of—loving you completely…only to one day lose you. That alone broke off a piece of your heart.

“I can’t lose you like I lost her,” he said softly. “I won’t.”

“Joel,” you whispered, finally moving towards him until you were close enough for his hands to reach for you. “You won’t lose me.”

“You don’t know—”

Grasping his face, you pulled him close, his breath washing across your chin. “You won’t lose me. Okay?” He nodded, his lips brushing against yours. “But you have to let me choose for myself.”

“I will,” he replied, giving into your touch, allowing himself to be loved wholeheartedly for the first time since Sarah. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You got it cowboy.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips as his laughter washed over you, settling deep in your chest and keeping you warm.

[yaut-jaknowit]

first of all I absolutely love your work honestly it is amazing!! And that last gawtin ask hurtttttt I was wondering if you could make a part two? If you want to of course maybe communication saves the day? I hope you have a good day!

Argument with Gawtin Part 2

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2276

Summary: For hours, you stay in your art room, sobbing away the time until the tears run dry. Now, it's the time to figure out what to do. You don't want to leave, you never want to leave Gawtin or Qui'oky. They're your family. You'll find a way to fix this or die trying.

Author Note: Communication in relationships are incredibly important! Here, it does save the day. Thank you so much! It hurt me too to write it because I hate conflict and to have my favorite pair fight...

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

Once the tear ran dry and left stick, crusty lines down the lengths of your cheeks, you picked your head up enough and looked around. The space was the same, empty and void of Gawtin. Old paintings and drawings covered the walls from floor to ceiling, making this place yours. A room that the green Yautja had given to you. She done so much for you.

An ache started behind your sternum as you hung your head in shame again, unable to cry again. In an instant, you shoved it back into her face while flipping the middle finger at her. You sat up in your desk chair, chin level. You had to fix this. You wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let this go. Not her love, the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted before. The two of you were meant to be together, no matter who or what said otherwise.

How would you show how sorry you are though? You glance around the room. It’s not like you’re a hunter like her. You couldn’t bring how creature five times your size. No, you were her artist. You wield pencils, not knives.

What could you make? Something she could understand in her own culture, something that would be of great value. Then, you shook your head. No, if it came from you, it’ll be enough. You dipped your head.

A newfound determination filled your veins. You stood up abruptly and walked towards the only exit. Once you’ve reached the door though, you paused before hitting the button to open it. What if she was out there? You couldn’t just ignore her and walk out. That would be incredibly rude and inconsiderate of Gawtin. Well, you’ll cross that bridge if you reached it.

All was quiet and dark in the main room of her hut. Your shoulders sagged both in relief and disappointment. Where had she gone? Qui’oky wasn’t here, meaning he had to be with his mother. She wouldn’t leave him to his lonesome.

You left the safety of your art room. The door sliding close behind you. The floorboards barely made complaints as you walked over to the front door. A satchel hung off your shoulders, a knife sitting in one of the pockets. Not much more than for cutting stems rather than the throats of animals that could consume you whole. In another pocket sat a device similar to a GPS and could lead you back home.

So be it. You wanted to show you cared about her, that you truly did. An argument would not ruin everything you’ve built with her. You wouldn’t let it, no matter how much you wanted to take the next flight off this planet. This was your home.

Out the door you went. Cool, humid air smack you straight in the face. It was far better than the burning binary suns that would bore down on your skin during the day. You braved your way through the humidity and started a path in a random direction. You let your heart led the way.

For a few miles, you traversed with little thoughts of where to go. Only thing that filled your mind was the flashbacks of the argument. The skin of your bottom lip had been worn down till the taste of blood, an action you couldn’t help. Not when Gawtin’s voice echoed in your head to go home. You wished you had said this was your home.

And it was. You belonged at her side, holding her hand with Qui’oky perched on your hip. This was your family, you were going to fight tooth and nail for it.

A gut feeling told you to stop. For a moment, you prayed it wasn’t an instinct you were being hunted. The hairs along your neck never raised. You relaxed and scanned the surrounding area until a feeling drew you towards your right. A feeling you followed until you found a shiny rock. The colors that matched the same hue as Gawtin’s dark, forest green. It was slipped into the main pocket and sealed off from the world it once sat in.

For what was probably hours, you continued to do this even after the yawn broke across you face. When your satchel began to dig into your shoulder uncomfortably, you called it a night.

Flowers, tied together with a thin string were held in one of your hands. The other held onto the GPS tracker, helping you to trek in the right direction home. You couldn’t believe you had found yourself five miles away from the hut. The walk back would take you forever especially with how the terrain was. This is a jungle that ranged from steep mountains to gushing rivers. A few rocks had been picked up from the riverbeds and snuck their way into your satchel as well.

Though it took at least another three hours to return home, the two suns beginning to peek through the trees, you made it. Your clothes were soaked through with sticky sweat. Hunger twisted your gut with each desperate call for food. You were smart enough to have a waterskin attached to your satchel so you didn’t perish from dehydration that far from home.

The familiar forest green roof/walls met your vision as you pushed through the thickest part of the foliage that surrounded the cottage. Home. You smiled in relief and trudged up to the door. Without even thinking, too exhausted to even think up thoughts, you pushed your way into the home. Gawtin still wasn’t home. You huffed and entered your art room.

Your satchel’s contents was dumped onto tabletop. The flowers were untied ands laid out as well. It may all look like junk you’ve picked up from the jungle’s floor, but to you, it was unmade art. All it was needing was to be pieced together, like a puzzle. You had the hands to do it.

Like the artist the whole town knew you as, you began to piece what items could go together. Even with the need to collapse and sleep for ten hours straight pulled at your mind, you pushed through.

When you grew irritated when some pieces didn’t want to fit with one another, you set it off to the side and looked at the flowers. All of them had long stems, perfect for what you wanted to do. You had also grabbed a lot, possibly too many but you didn’t want to trek all the way back out there and get more.

Covered in dirt, your hands began to weave the stems carefully with one another. A pattern you had pulled up on a tablet Gawtin had given you long ago. On the screen, it looked ease to follow but grew harder with each newly added stem. At times, you were ready to rip it apart and set it on fire. Somehow, you soldiered through and finally finished the piece.

It was far too large to sit upon your head, which was exactly what you were aiming for. You didn’t have any measurements for Gawtin’s head and only estimated on her size. Not like she was home for you to measure without her growing suspicious in the first place.

Now feeling better at the fact you finished one of the projects, you moved back towards the mess of rocks and wires on the other side of your desk.

Almost a year ago, you had given Gawtin a necklace you had specifically went out to the market for. That led you into a mess of going from one vendor to another before getting captured in the end. Gawtin had to save you from the trouble but she was never mad. She expressed that after she got you to the safety of the hut.

Everyday, she wears that necklace. A sign of either pride or love, maybe even both. But you loved it and it seemed like Gawtin did too. Now, you were designing two bracelets. Either for both arms or one. Whatever she choose to do with them was up to her.

Back in the seat of your desk chair, you sat crisscross and stared upon the rocks once more. Ideas flowed freely inside of your mind, anything for this to work.

With these being on her wrist, they had to be incredibly durable. Once a hunter, always hunter. They would be put under great distress due to her everyday routine.

The wire used to keep the rocks secure was the strongest one you could find within a reasonable price and at the nearest market. Though, you used one of the young bloods to retrieve it for you for a small price. But, you had to use what you get your hands on without Gawtin knowing. You could be resourceful yourself.

You set to grueling work of designing a bracelet that could hopefully hold up to any added stress. A thick, durable band was used to tie the rocks to. The wire themselves were difficult to for around the rocks with no heat source to soften the metal. You did your best in the moment.

Before you on the wooden desk table, sat two bracelets, large in diameter but could also be tightened or loosen if need be. Again, you didn’t have her measurements on hand.

As a breath of relief left your lips, you heard the front door open then close. Even in the near dead silent house, you couldn’t pick up on the footsteps of the lumbering giant. Just one slab of metal kept the two of you away from each other.

Both of your hands began to shake. This was your one and only chance to fix this. You took in a lung filling inhale, leveled your chin, and grabbed your three items off of the desk. Your feet marched their way over to the door. It opened a second after you pressed the need button.

In the small kitchenette stood the goddess of your life. Qui’oky was at her feet and holding onto his mother’s leg. But when he saw you exit the art room, he made a noise of excitement and waddled over to you. You bend down and scooped him off of the ground. He would’ve climbed you to get into your arms if you hadn’t. You couldn’t wait for him to get older…

Timidly, you stepped over into the edge of the kitchen, eyes pointing downwards at the ground. A submissive position you hoped would be please her.

“Gawtin,” you called out softly then picked up your gaze to find her purple eyes already on you. She was lax but not letting a single ounce of emotion fall through any cracks of features. “I’m-I’m sorry. I want to start off by apologizing.”

Qui’oky grew too heavy for you to hold and got in the way. You put him back down, hoping he would loss interest in you for the moment. The prayer was answered.

The items in your hands were offered to Gawtin. The flower crown held out first. “I don’t know what way you guys apologize so I did my best. I was out all night and searched for the best because that’s all you deserve. I should’ve never said those things to you. This is my home. I want to be here. You never took me, I wanted to come with you.”

The bracelets were shown to Gawtin next. “And… and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides here, with you. I love you so damn much. More than I could ever speak or gift to you. You are my family and so is he.” You fall to your knees and clutched the gifts in your hands as if you where praying. “Forgive me, please. I don’t want to leave. Please, let me stay. With you.”

It was only a small crack at first. The twitch of her gem studded brow before her walls came crashing down. Gawtin knelt down in front of you and wrapped her arms around you.

“I must apologize as well. I apologize for mocking you, for telling you to leave. This is your home. You belong with me, with us,” Gawtin whispered, voice rumbling deep in her throat as she held you close to her warm body. “I do not have excuses. I should have not taken my pent up anger out on you. That is my fault. A mistake I will not make again.”

Being in her arms was the best thing you could ever ask for. You sagged against her and sobbed into her chest. New, fresh, hot tears ran new rivets down the length of your cheeks. You did your best to encase her torso with your arms but came up short. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you cried and held onto her as your lifeline. Because she is. She’s your lifeline.

Her massive hand ran up and down the length of your spine. “It is okay. Everything will be okay.”

An eternity passed until the muscles along Gawtin’s arms loosened up enough for you to pull back and look her in those beautiful purple eyes. She still kept you in her grasp, as if afraid you’ll disappeared. “Now, let me see what you have made for me, my little artist.”

In that moment, you knew everything was going to be fine. She was right. This was only a bump in the road you’ve gotten over. This is life. There will be more but as a power couple with your sweet child, you’ll make through it all. You smiled up at Gawtin through the blurry tears blocking your vision. Alien or not, you love her.

[radio-ghost-cooks]

imagine, if you will, Graves taking you on a fancy vacation

tags: Graves x gn!reader, vacation, shadow!reader, use of petnames ("sweetheart", "baby", "cowboy"), WTNV reference, just really fluffy

please imagine Graves dipping into Shepard's funds to take the Shadows on vacation. Shepard can spare a couple hundred thousand to give them all a few days off (that's how Graves justified it, at least).

it's this place in the Maldives. it floats! it takes a couple of seaplane trips to get everyone out there, but once everyone arrives? the whole place is packed with your teammates. a paradise packed with Shadows.

somehow, Graves managed to get a private beach house just for you and him. you feel a little badly for the Shadows who had to cram themselves into another house for it to happen, but knowing them they probably don't really care. that's the fun thing. you all love each other (everyone just knows that you and Graves love each other a Little Bit More than the others).

it's a taste of the high life for everyone. living in the lap of luxury for a few days. for you, most of it is spent cuddled up with Graves despite the heat.

"you're comfy," Graves hummed, nuzzling into your chest. "yes, and you're hot. literally," you had grunted, snickering a little under your breath, "Phil, sweetheart, it's nearly 90 degrees out here, and you wanna cuddle?" all he did was sigh contentedly and mumble, "you know ya' love it." you really couldn't say he was wrong as you wrapped your arms around him and drifted off a little with him.

the best part of the beach house was the fact that there wasn't a roof over the bedroom. it let all the cool night air fill the house and the sounds of waves around you lulled you both to sleep each night.

Graves brought his knees to his chest and smiled as he looked up at the sky hanging overhead. "what was that thing you always quote again, baby?" he murmured, completely entranced. "what," you asked, "'mostly void, partially star?' do i say it that much?" "kinda, yeah," he admitted with a soft laugh. "m'not complaining though. s' pretty." you gave him a cheeky smile and purred, "not as pretty as you, cowboy." he just shoved his hand into your face and snorted, pushing you back a bit. "oh god, 'cowboy.' are ya' really gonna start callin' me that now?"

it's so oddly domestic that it makes you both a little heartsick. you've known each other a while, but you still feel so overwhelmingly in love. that dumb, sappy puppy love that neither of you got to have when you were younger.

honestly, you could spend the rest of your life just like that. you, and Graves, and your massive number of idiot kids who are also your soldiers.