#and finished it off with white Polish

[lover-of-mine]

I just wanted a white nail polish that doesn't need 700 coats to look white.

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[vivitalks]

do you ever see someone and just have a feeling in your bones that this person SHOULD be wearing nail polish

[bi-writes]

more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)

thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your ass in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.

you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.

"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."

"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."

he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.

he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.

he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!

(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)

you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--

there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"

you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.

you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.

it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.

simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.

but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!

he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.

run away? or play dead?

[atyourmerci]

Gold wing, angel

meanloser!ellie X classpresident!r

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, v angsty, slight bondage, cunt slapping, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, lite angel symbolism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: actually surprised I finished a req (you all applaud me) this is inspired by “GOLDWING” by billie.

Ellie was a sick drug. Something not to be desired. She was the epitome of the allure of indulging in something you shouldn’t have, shouldn’t know, try at very least.

How did she get this way- who made her like this? Anger taken out through bodies of admission in an act of revenge. Taking back what was taken from her. Her pride regained by your submission.

You could have never fathomed the aggression the loser from AP American literature could obtain. You thought she’d beg on her knees for you. Worship your every move, starstruck by even getting the chance to touch you.

But she didn’t. She reveled in taking you off your high horse, got off on watching the student body president, proper and witty, utterly depraved by getting her cunt abused by a fucking moron.

-

98- A fucking 98, you did not deserve a 98 on the midterm paper. Your work was frankly sloppy, lacked comprehension. It made you ill knowing you were turning in something so lackluster with your name slapped across the front so proudly. The only thing that made you sicker was the thought of receiving special treatment- you had an image to uphold. You got to your position in this society from your own intellect, blood, sweat, tears and all. Kissing ass for a fucking 98 wasn’t in the cards.

The class began filing out as usual, like wild animals in a pack, shiny white teeth like daggers. Meshing together in their navy steam-pressed blazers, hair like defining fur, the only indication of individuality.

Except for her, sticking out like a sore thumb, the great big elephant in the room. Breaking many rulebook codes with her black nail polish, unkept hair to the standard policy, her white polo unbuttoned at the top two buttons that revealed her freckled chest. Despite her all around degenerate persona, she was irritatingly smart. Maybe if she had an ounce of charm she’d take your place.

With the rest of the class out of sight she stares at you. Not cutting off eye contact you both rise from your chairs you practically run to Mr. Stevens desk. The slap of two papers hit his desk, a 98 and a 90 shining in red sharpie ink on the white papers.

“I don’t deserve this,” comes out in unison, the sincerity in your voice cut open by the harshness in Ellies.

“Please one at a time, ladies.”

Before the words can even escape your lips Ellie rages, “I worked my ass off on this. I deserve better than a 90,” she spits out. “I know you can do better than this Ms.Williams, I expect more from you.” Ellie scoffs back at him, “this is bullshit,” she muffles but continues standing at his desk.

Mr.Stevens nods his head in your direction for your speech, you glance at Ellie with her arms now crossed, awaiting your protest. You brush off her insistence on staying and begin, “Mr.Stevens, I appreciate your grading and understanding my agenda for the midterm, but objectively this is sub-pare work. I think you may have given me someone else’s grade… maybe you mixed up my grade with Ms.Williams.”

He doesn’t skip a beat, “I don’t mix up grades, you earned it. Now if you two will excuse me,” Mr.Stevens directs you both to the now empty hallway.

Ellie storms out with rage, cheeks flushed and lips pressed closely, you follow behind. “‘ms Williams’? the fuck was that?” Ellie presses in a scowl, words echoed in a bare hallway.

“Look I read your paper, I think you deserved better,” you retort in an attempt to soothe her. You cant seem to keep your eyes off her cupids bow, the contrast of soft pink lips against her tired skin.

“Oh thats fucking rich coming from ‘ms I don’t deserve my grade’ you’re pathetic,” she points, eyes thinning.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch more people would like you,” you attempt, heat rising in your own cheeks, heart thumping roughly in your chest.

Ellies cruel disposition contorts into a grin, inching closer to your body, “you’re fucking him aren’t you? Ms. perfect sucking off the teach so she can stay on top?”

A power so foreign comes before you, using force to push your wrist into her chest, though she doesn’t budge, “shut up.”

She returns your aggression, pushing your bodies flesh up against the brick wall behind you, ripping the breath from your lungs. Your hands instinctively grip into her shirt. Her eyes are wild, as if she was surprised she’d taken it this far, or rather puzzled by the fact you haven’t broken your grasp.

You both pant from the intrusion, glaring, waiting- waiting for someone to cave.

Like a dog on a leash you dragged her in, pulling her by her fabric until her lips met your own. A depraved act, met with open mouths and wandering tongues. Hatred in its finest form, digging into her as if you’d ever thought of it. A subconscious desire pulled from the depths of your cravings.

Before true indulgence she pushes you off, taking a moment to look at your hazy disposition, drunk on delinquency, “don’t ever do that again,” she pants out. Taking her thumb she wipes the saliva from your bottom lip and takes off without your response.

-

Time after time you went back. You told yourself you’d stop, never talk to her again. Yet there the keys were in the ignition, a path that you knew like the back of your hand. Leading, controlling your own fate of defacement.

“Can you please just open the door,” you plead on her doorsteps, mind and body corrupted- to only be pleased by the mental games, the destruction in forms of submitting to her.

Strung up like an old doll long forgotten in the attic, bound wrist behind your back and ankles tied to the head of her bed, vulnerable and needy.

“What now? Use your fucking words,” Ellie remarks before spitting on your neglected cunt. Your body winces at the sensation of the hot liquid dripping down the pulsing flesh, “please I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She hovers over your squirming body, carful to not give you the satisfaction. Gripping your jaw in her hand, “do you ever pay attention to what I tell you? You don’t deserve to come,” cocking her free hand back to lay a purposeful slap to your slick folds causing you to scream out from the blissful pain.

She lays another one into the already beat red skin, a cruel grin growing on her lips as she hears you enjoying it. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” she asks glaring at your tucked in lip, eyes glossy. You nod back at her, signaling your approval for using your body as her personal vessel.

Somehow it was good enough for her, dropping down to your perked nipples and sucking it into her teeth as she uses her hand to cover your eyes. You’d learn very early on that you weren’t allowed to watch her use her mouth on you. In the odd occasion she’d let you have your cunt in her mouth shed have your face shoved in the sheets while she took you from behind. She never told you why- and you didn’t dare ask.

Your wrist wriggle behind your back as your chest arches into her mouth, hot and wet. You obsess over what it would feel like on your mouth again, most nights were spent only thinking of her mouth- foreign, an impenetrable fortress. You began to chase the chance of the feeling her again.

You feel as her mouth comes off of the swollen bud as she removes the hand on your eyes, “don’t look,” she says with no threat in her tone, but you don’t risk crossing her.

You shut your exhausted eyes, dropping your head back as you feel her wrap her arms around the meat of your thighs. She drags an antagonizing strip up your slit, jolting your body into the mouth.

She goes as slow as possible, providing as little pressure she can muster up to the swell of your clit, but from her slaps it wouldn’t take much. Your body akin to a fish gasping for air out of water, squirming under her touch. She digs her fingers deep into the flesh as a warning.

“If you ever want to come again Id advise you behave.”

“P-please,” you plead to her, legs shaking as you whimper her name over and over like a prayer.

“I said no, i swear to god I’ll ruin every fucking orgasm,” sliding her two fingers into your clenching hole she drives slow pumps as she returns her mouth to your clit.

Your face contorts in concentration, attempting to hold yourself back but you could only be held off for so long.

“Ellie- Ellie!” bursting at the seams, your body detesting her rules, letting the hot white cum coat her fingers. She only fucks you harder, faster through your orgasm. This is a game you weren’t to win, rather to allow herself to revel in your pain. She got off on destroying your mind, making it to where you can only be pleased by her punishment.

Ellie kept her word, working you up on the edge of finishing and stopping completely, laughing at your pathetic state, crying and begging to come.

Clipping your wings, she hung them on her walls as a trophy. Pleas echoing her room, come splattering her sheets, your lips chapped and neglected.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink princess

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:

“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.

“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.

“how you could date a girl like y/n.” 

your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.

“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”

you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.

“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”

you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.

“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”

“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”

“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.

“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.

“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”

kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.

“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.

“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.

“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.

rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.

“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.

“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.

--

“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.

“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.

“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.

“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.

“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.

“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.

“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.

“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.

--

“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head. 

rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”

you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”

“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.

“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.

“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”

“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”

rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”

you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”

“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”

“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.

“promise.” rafe nods.

“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”

--

you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.

“y/n-” 

you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions. 

“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.

“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.

you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.

“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.

rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.

what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.

you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.

--

“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.

“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.

“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going. 

“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”

you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”

“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.

rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.

“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.

in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.

--

“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.

“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.

you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.

“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away. 

“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”

“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.

“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”

you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.

“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.

“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.” 

“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”

--

“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.

“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.

“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.

“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”

rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.

“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.

you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.

“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.

he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.

“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.

rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.

“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.

“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.

you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.

“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.

you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”

rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.

“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.

“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”

“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you. 

it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you. 

you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin. 

“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.

you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[elliesgaythoughts]

pretty in pink

MDNI

dom!ellie x sub!reader

A/N: this is one of my first times writing dom ellie so…don’t off me😭

Warnings: strap r! receiving, hair pulling, spit kink, restrained by Ellie’s hands, spanking, probably more but idk x

There you sat, cross legged in your nightdress as you painted your nails a pretty pink, humming along to the sounds of your favourite artist, you smile contentedly as you you dip the brush back into the bottle before admiring your pretty nails as you start to wait for them to dry.

Meanwhile Ellie is just coming through the front door a scowl on her face and a wet patch that’s been growing in her boxers for the past three hours. You may have sent her a few pictures of you with your silk dress pulled up just enough to show your bare pussy with a cute little smirk on your face, you just wanted to give your girl a little treat.

But Ellie didn’t see it that way, in her head you wanted to tease her with your perfect body, knowing she still had a few hours left of her shift. “She is so cruel” she thought to herself as she kicked off her shoes and quietly tip toed to her wardrobe, strapping her harness to her waist “teasing me?” She whispered to herself in shock.

You hear your bedroom door creak open as you finish your top coat, the girly smell of nail polish filling the room “is that you Ellie?” You say, starting to blow your nails dry.

You somehow smell the presence of her musky fragrance before you seen her “on the bed” she says sternly, your head whips around in confusion, your eyes growing wide as you see her girthy transparent cock hanging on her pelvis, she looked so pretty, still fully dressed, in her blue denim jeans, her zipper down, belt hanging open around her waist and a white tank pressing to her muscular body, least to say your pussy instantly started to throb.

Squeezing your thighs together you stutter “w-what?” in confusion, why was she that mad at you.

She walks over, her tough guy persona slightly melting away as she looks into your pretty eyes until then she remembers how your photo tortured her all day, her anger quickly building back up.

She gently grips your chin with her cold fingers, her green orbs peircing your soft eyes “get on the bed and keep that pretty dress on” she pats your face dismissively.

You really wanted to but your nails, they looked so pretty, you didn’t wanna mess them up “b-but” you flash her the blush of colour that adorned your hands “yeah they’re cute babe” she rolls her eyes impatiently “they’re still wet mama” you plead.

Ellie’s clit dances against the base of her harness, her breathing faltering at the pet name, she pulls herself together “I don’t give a fuck” her fingers land in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you to your feet, her lips land on yours, silencing your unanimous squeal of surprise and moan of pleasure, you can’t help but whine into her mouth as your palms land on her chest, fingers pointing straight, trying not to ruin the gel.

“Ellieuh” you moan into her mouth, her tongue swiping your lip, your cunt throbbing desperately, she pulls away softly as her palms land on either side of your face, her eyes so soft “tell me you want this” you feel your slick drooling onto your lips as you whisper out “I want this mama.”

And with that Ellie lifts you up, your legs wrapping around her waist, her palms on your ass, her dick pressing against your centre as you grind softly onto her while she walks you to the bed, laying you down on your pink bedding, her face just above yours as her chapped lips meet yours, massaging your mouth with hers.

“tongue out” she instructs before wrapping her lips around it and sucking as she bobs her head up and down, her drool running into your mouth as you moan out in a daze, your knees at the sides of her waist and her tip teasingly rubbing against your clit with each soft motion of her hips “ffuck” you whisper to yourself, slowly grinding onto her.

Ellie’s mouth lands onto your throat as she licks up the side of it, both your palms pressing to her shoulder blades, the teasing was fucking killing you as she forces two of her fingers into your mouth, smirking to herself as she pushes her fingertips in and out, hitting the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water as you choke on her.

You try to pull your head away but she doesn’t let your breath properly without giving one more harsh thrust to the back of your throat, causing a pathetic sound to leave you as she pulls out, your spit still connecting her fingers to your mouth, only breaking the connection as she simultaneously pushes her tip inside you as she licks up her fingers, savouring the taste of you and making your eyes water from the stretch “what’s wrong baby? You too tight?” she asks cockily as she tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow, her fingers still loosely hanging in her mouth.

You close your eyes, remembering yourself to breath as you inhale and exhale through your mouth shakily, loving the burn of the stretch “no mama, love it” you open your eyes softly, meeting her eyes “love you mama.”

“love you too hunny” your body jerks up as you push your face into her neck when she pushes another inch into you, causing your air to get caught in your throat, it hurt but it was the best fucking feeling ever, you were drunk on it, something in your mind snapped, desperate for more as she took her time with you “more d-daddy” you begged, bucking your hips up but she catches your actions, pressing you into the matteress and pulling out of you, making you whimper in fear of what she’s going to do next.

Her arm wraps around your lower back and grips your hip, pulling and flipping you over till your face was in the mattress. Giggling at your gasp as her fingertips dig into your hips and lifts your ass in the air, leaning her pelvis forward so her cock teases your entrance ever so slightly.

Before you can even get a syllable out she’s giving orders “hands behind your back” and so you weakly connect your wrists at the bottom of your spine “good girl” she coos, one of her hands binding them together until she decides that you’ve had enough. She pushes into you almost half way as a gutteral moan leaves your throat “fuck!” you’re squealing as she stops midway inside you.

“m-more pleaseee” you beg.

“aw baby I don’t think you deserve more, no not after that stunt you pulled today”

“I was being nice” you breath out, eyes close and cheek pressed to the pillow.

Her palm connects harshly with your cheek “you were being a fucking tease” you knew you were but it was fun, you missed her and you just needed her attention, you’re just a girl that missed her girlfriend.

Pain surges through your body again as her palm coonects with your flesh “say it, fucking say it.”

“Fuck fuck” you squeak your eyes and on the girl behind you “i was being a tease” you practically whisper, broken by her already “im sorry daddy please”

“aww it’s okay mama, i forgive you” your sigh in relief is stopped when your brain practically shuts of as she rams her full length inside you “ughh!” stretching you out and causing tears to prick at your eyes.

She’s completely ignoring you as she pounds into you mercilessly making you leak all around her, making your face rest in a wet pool of your saliva, making your belly feel fucking full as she lands harsh slaps to your ass every few pounds into your womb “not gonna be a fucking tease again huh?”

“n-no fuuuck no” the band in your belly is tightening ready to snap “never”

“good girl” she says softly in comparison with her thrusts “such a good girl” you’re squeezing onto her so tightly, your legs shaking as your pretty mouth forms an oh shape, eyes close in bliss and leaking, you’re so so fucking close as high pitched whines leave your mouth, to fucked out to talk as her bony pelvis meets your asscheeks continuously and harshly.

“fucking love you” she pants breathlessly, her eyes dart to where you both connect, taking in the sight of you squeezing around her “fucking love this pussy” her nails dig into the flesh of your hips, leaving the promise of bruises your in your delicate skin for the next few days, the pain making your head spin and your heart skip a beat.

“Don’t stop” you squeal and her fingertips connect with your fluttering clit as she glides smoothly across it “ellie, ellie, ellie” is all you can say, your entire body on fire, sweat dripping down your forehead.

That cute little face you pull is all too familiar to the auburn headed girl “you gonna cum?” she says and you can fucking hear her teasing smile “yesyes pleasee” you whine.

“lemme see them pretty eyes” and instantly you lift your heavy eyelids, willing to do anything for her at this point “pl-” you sob “pleasee.” She give a loving sqeeze to your wrists and a pout of sympathy “cum for me mama” and instantly you squeal her name, your felt as if your soul left your body as you coat her length in your pleasure, warm tears stream down your cheeks while she fucks you through it only slowing down when you fall limp against the bed, gasping for air.

“fuckk” you whisper to yourself “fuck” slowly coming to your senses.

“yeah?” Ellie asks, smiling to herself at how you react to her touch “yeahh” you sigh, giggling from the aftermath of her, a playful slap lands on your cheek “yeahhh” she mocks you, chuckling along with you as she pulls out of you slowly, admiring your slick that connects you to her “fuck” she sighs to herself now as she leans down and places a gentle kiss to your sensitive clit “elliee” you whine “sorry babe I…” she trails off, her tongue brushing your bud once, making you whine “couldn’t help myself” she smiles, stepping away from the bed and undoing her harness as you close your eyes and snuggling up under the covers.

You expect her to lay in besides you but your chest swells with love when you feel her tug at your wrist “these look so pretty baby” she coos at your sleepy self, unscrewing the pink bottle of nail liquor “lemme..” she paints over the smudged spot that was definitely her fault, her hand holding yours so gently as her brows furrow in concentration “there” she pecks the back of your hand and blows gently onto them as you watch her with heavy eyelids “can I paint your nails?” you speak softly “uhh hmm” she fakes contemplation while her eyes dart between the bottle and you “pleasee” you beg with doe eyes, she mutters something to herself before nodding her head “of course angel” and you squeal in excitement, rolling to her side of the bed and kissing all over her face, making her smile like a love struck fool as she watches you giggle to yourself as you cuddle her hand to your face “thank you mama” she fakes an eye roll, trying to keep her tough composure “yeah yeah” but the crinkle on her eyes from how hard she’s smiling as she watches you hum to yourself painting over her nails melts away her persona as she places a peck to your forehead, completely lost and in love with the woman you are, always and forever.

(then you paint her nails while both of you are bare booty naked bc that’s cute asf😍)

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @bready101 @moonalumi @heygrimace @elliesmama @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries

[myspacebrat]

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Eddie is being driven up the fucking wall and he’s at his wits end. He can’t take it anymore, not when you’re prancing around the apartment with a tiny, see through, white nightie. The material is so thin he can see your nipples and the way they’re peaked, right through the fabric. It’s like you’re doing it to be cruel, although Eddie knows this is your everyday usual sleep attire, he just wishes for the sake of his newly pierced cock that you wouldn’t do all the things that turn him on so fiercely, which is quite literally just you being yourself. He couldn’t help that he thought the mundane shit you did; like the way you slurped up your spaghetti or flipped through the television channels, was so effortlessly sexy. But he’s aching for your touch, so when his good friend/piercer Nate gave him the go ahead to masturbate, he concocted a devious little plan, one that would involve you and him getting off, together.

So that’s how you found yourself laid back on your shared bed, legs spread wide as you plunge your fingers deep inside your creamy cunt, wet squelches reverberate off the walls making Eddie groan as he watches you at the foot of the bed. His hard, leaking cock in his hand; pumping up and down to the image of you pleasuring yourself so beautifully for him. The glint of the jewelry catches your eye, finding Eddie’s big brown orbs before trailing down his tattooed and pierced body, taking in the image of his newest piercing and how you couldn’t wait to see what it felt like buried deep inside your walls, hitting your spot until you eventually squirted all over Eddie and the mattress. That image has you immediately clenching around your fingers and biting your lip as you stave off yet another orgasm, edging yourself to near painful levels.

Eddie immediately gets a better idea and crawls up the bed, now hovering above you as his hair forms a perfect curtain, secluding you both off from everything else around. “Fuck, I need to feel some part of you princess.” He confesses as he begins to glide his lube slick cock over the entirety of your slit. The jewelry rubs against your clit so perfectly, your legs begin to tremble and your back arches off the bed in an almost exorcism like fashion. The way the cold, wet metal rubs over your swollen bundle of nerves; ever so gently, has you closer to the finish line quicker than anything ever has before. Everything is so slippery with perfect friction, making your pale pink polished toes curl as you raise them higher in the air. Trying to open yourself as wide as possible, selfishly taking everything you can as your high hits you like a ton of bricks. Body spasming as your walls clench tightly around nothing and your eyes snap shut, stars dancing across your eyelids. Eddie continues rubbing the underside of his cock over your cunt until he’s shooting spurts of his warm, sticky cum all over your stomach; most of it pooling in your belly button. Eddie eagerly slurps it up, then spits it into your awaiting mouth before his soft, sodden lips find yours as you both swap his cum in a greedy, tongue filled kiss.

Part two

[a-d-nox]

astro hypothesis: dress for the occasion

everyone is always mentioning to dress like your venus sign. recently, i have seen a lot of tiktoks where people are like dress like your crush/boyfriend's venus sign to look like his dream girl. and i was like what about dressing for the occasion? which brought me here! grab your venus persona and take a look at the houses.

5h - prom, dances, dates, and clubs

5h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°) and/or 5h moon: elegance is key. you might be drawn to long, flowy gowns with shimmery fabric. something light but glowy! often the fabric is dark (black or midnight blue) or slivery/white. a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder cut tends to look beautiful on these people. often you are drawn to semi-sheer fabric as it adds some mystique to your appearance.

5h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 5h venus: light pastels or ivory are likely to grab your attention but a plain white or black dress is likely to give you that elegant/timeless look that you want most in pictures to remember your day (otherwise, you might take pictures in a colored dress and turn on a black and white filter). you want the wow factor! so a-line, a ball gown, or fit-flare dresses might be your go to look. a floor length dress is likely a must for you. silk, satin, chiffon, and/or organza are likely on the tags of these dresses even if you don't know what these materials are by the naked eye. dresses with a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder sleeves are likely to make you feel elegant. you may like very simple accessories - plain earrings, a dainty bracelet, small pendant necklace, classic heels, etc. a v-neckline, bateau, or strapless design is likely to fit your elegance same could be said about a low back dress.

5h aquarius (11°, 23°) and/or 5h uranus: you are likely to be drawn to the blue family (sky, sea, ocean, water, turquoise, etc.). iridescence/holographic/shimmery material might draw your attention in a store. you often go for something very atypical in the store (might be from seasons ago - its likely the last of its kind). something a-line, flowy, and/or high-to-low might be of interest to you - the cuts of a dress bring interest to your favorite parts of yourself (example, maybe its a two piece dress). something high neck or off the shoulder is likely of interest to you as well. a loose braid and/or waves might be all you need to finish out your look.

7h - wedding attire

7h aries (1°, 13°, 25°) and/or 7h mars: as a bride you should be wearing pure white. nudes or off-whites aren't likely to hold your attention anyway. grab the pure stark white. it is likely that reds are going to be an accent of this wedding - roses, nail, polish, bridesmaid dresses, etc. but if you aren't in the wedding party, go for the red whether its a fiery red or a deep burgundy, its the way to go! no matter if you are the bride, the guest, or a member of the wedding party - you should opt for a fit flare dress or mermaid silhouette. or be really dramatic and go for a deep slit, a plunge neckline, or something backless! the devil is in the details too so things like careful beading, sequins, or embroidery should be something critical to your look (if not the fit and/or the drama). alternatively, minimalism/modernism might be something you enjoy for your look.

7h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or 7h mercury: as a bride, you might lean towards ivory or whites with an undertone of some color (like a blush). you don't tend to go for the traditional white color, in my experience. if you are a guest or in the wedding party it is likely you will find yourself in soft pastel colors! movement is of the utmost importance to you so opt for a-line or flowy gown. you might also enjoy wearing things that are asymmetrical - the hemline might be high to low or you might like the one shoulder strap design. these people also like details in their dresses whether it is lace, embroidery, beading, ruffles, tiered skirts, or glitter - the options are endless. chiffon, tulle, or organza might be the fabrics for you because they are light and breathable.

6h - everyday clothes and workwear

6h pisces (12°, 24°) and/or 6h neptune: soft fabrics like cotton, silk, or jersey in gentle, soothing colors such as ocean blues, seafoam greens, lavender, and soft pinks. loose, flowing clothes like maxi skirts, wrap dresses, or wide-legged pants that move gracefully. style would likely be bohemian and free-spirited, incorporating layers, delicate patterns, or subtle prints (florals, paisley, etc.). clothes would be cozy and easy to wear—think oversized sweaters, soft cardigans, and flowy blouses. might like jewelry that is delicate, handmade, seashells, pearls, and/or celestial themed.

6h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 6h venus: these people have a natural sense of style and an appreciation for their appearance. outfits would likely be classic, well-tailored pieces in soft, neutral tones like blush pink, dove gray, cream, and pastel blues. the fabrics would be light and luxurious - like silk blouses, cashmere sweaters, or satin skirts. well-fitted blazers, A-line skirts, and or high-waisted trousers make them look polished and graceful. they effortlessly blend comfort with sophistication. everything else is minimal yet thoughtfully chosen - delicate gold or silver jewelry, a stylish handbag, etc.

9h - graduation and religious events

9h taurus (2°, 14°, 26°) and/or 9h venus: elegance, luxury, and comfort ("it has pockets too!"). a sleek, well-structured dress in an earthy tones like emerald green, soft brown, or blush pink. the fabric might be luxurious, like silk, satin, or velvet. a silhouette would likely be timeless and flattering - a wrap dress or an A-line dress that cinches at the waist, emphasizing femininity and grace is well suited for this placement. delicate embroidery or subtle jewelry accents. understated but beautiful accessories, like a simple gold necklace or pearl earrings.

9h leo (5°, 17°, 29°) and/or 9h sun: bold, glamorous, and attention grabbing. vibrant colors like gold, fiery red, or royal purple. the fabric might be something that shimmers or catches the light, such as sequined, satin, or metallic materials. a silhouette could be daring and statement-making, like a fitted flair dress, a high-low hemline, or an off-the-shoulder design. ruffles, a thigh-high slit, or an open back, ensures all eyes are on them. accessories would be bold—think large, sparkling earrings, a dramatic statement necklace, etc. yes, realize what my sub-header is for this section.

9h sagittarius (9°, 21°) and/or jupiter: it's never just one graduation or church event and thus never just one dress/opportunity. the dresses would likely have a regal, flowing quality to it. jewel tones like deep sapphire, royal blue, or amethyst. flowy, A-line, and/or empire waisted dresses that gives a sense of movement. fabric might be lightweight and ethereal, like chiffon, tulle, or silk. intricate embroidery, beading, etc. accessories would be tasteful but luxurious, like a delicate gold bracelet or a jeweled hairpiece.

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© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[novaursa]

The Dragon and The Wolf

- Summary: Rhaenyra sends her daughter instead of her son to fly North. You.

- Paring: velayrion!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is second born child of Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes and is a dragonrider. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (expect for rating to go higher in the next chapter)

- Word count: 3 681

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess

- A/N: I had this one stored away, but I've decided to post it on a request. Harwin Strong one is not yet finished, but will be posted in coming days. I'll see how both of these are received before posting more.

The wind whips across the snow-dusted fields, biting and cold, as you soar above on your dragon, Thraxata. The North stretches below like a vast, white ocean, with Winterfell looming ahead in the distance, its grey walls rising like ancient guardians against the winter sky. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting a pale light that glimmers off the frost-coated land.

Thraxata’s dark scales gleam like polished obsidian, a stark contrast to the endless white beneath. Her massive wings carve through the air with graceful power, the membrane tinted in deep shades of violet and blue, like the twilight sky before night fully descends. She is known as the Midnight Fury in whispers—born of shadow and flame, a terror in the night skies. Her roar splits the silence, echoing across the fields, a sound both commanding and otherworldly.

From your perch on her back, you spot the waiting banners below: the direwolf of Stark, surrounded by lesser sigils of Northern houses. Lord Cregan Stark stands at their forefront, a tall figure clad in thick furs and armor, as still and stern as the land he rules. He expects a prince, no doubt, a son of Rhaenyra, a warrior with fire in his veins. But you are no prince.

You are Y/N Velaryon, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Silver-haired like your mother, with eyes the color of amethyst flames, you are the embodiment of old Valyria—a sight that would capture any man’s breath, even in the frozen heart of the North. Unlike your brothers, there is no questioning the blood that runs in your veins. You carry both the fire of your ancestors and the steel of the sea, a daughter of dragon and salt.

Thraxata descends with a mighty sweep of her wings, stirring a storm of snow and ice as her talons dig into the frozen ground. Her head swivels as she growls low, a deep rumble that vibrates through your body, her violet eyes fixed on the assembled Northerners. You dismount with practiced grace, the long cloak of thick fur billowing behind you as your boots crunch into the snow.

The men whisper, their breath misting in the cold air, eyes wide with awe and trepidation. No prince, but something more—something wilder, something that belongs in tales and legends.

Cregan Stark steps forward, his eyes fixed on you. They are grey like the winter itself, hard and sharp, yet there is a glint of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a flicker of admiration beneath the layers of duty. He dips his head in a respectful nod, though his eyes never leave yours.

"Princess," he greets you, his voice deep and resonant, like a wolf's growl beneath the snow. "Winterfell welcomes you. I had expected a prince, but the Queen has sent a dragon nonetheless."

Your lips curve into a small smile, cold as the winter air. "My brothers may be princes, but it is I who bears the fire and ice that binds our realms, Lord Stark. I trust you will remember the oaths sworn to my mother, and the duty you hold to the true Queen."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there is no hostility, merely calculation. "The North remembers its oaths, Princess. But oaths are easily sworn and easily forgotten when the fires of war draw near. I would hear your words and judge for myself where our loyalties lie."

Thraxata’s tail lashes behind you, sending a spray of snow into the air. You can sense her restlessness, her desire to protect you, to assert her dominance in this land where dragons are more myth than reality. But you place a gloved hand on her scaled flank, a silent command, and she stills, though her eyes remain fixed on Cregan.

"You speak with wisdom, my lord," you reply, your voice firm but laced with the authority of the blood you carry. "But the North has never bent to whispers or empty promises. My mother’s cause is just, her claim undeniable. The realm needs strength, and you know as well as I that only fire can bring the long night to its knees."

There’s a flicker of something—approval, perhaps—in Cregan’s gaze. He steps closer, his boots crunching in the snow, until you are but a breath away. The North has always been a place where respect is earned through strength and resolve, not titles or finery. In that moment, you realize that your mother’s choice was not a mistake; you were sent because here, in this land of cold and iron, you are seen not as a delicate princess, but as something fiercer.

"Then perhaps the Queen chose wisely in sending you," he murmurs, his voice low, for your ears alone. "The North respects strength, and it seems that is something you possess in abundance, Y/N Velaryon."

There is a tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the game you both play. He is the Wolf of Winterfell, and you are the Dragon sent to bind him to your mother’s cause. But there is something else too—a flicker of intrigue, of something more personal beneath the formalities.

“I shall make my case before the gathered lords,” you say, breaking the charged silence. “And I trust that Winterfell will extend the hospitality due to a dragon and her rider.”

He gives a slight incline of his head, a gesture of respect between equals. “Winterfell is yours, Princess. And I look forward to seeing just how fierce the fire of a dragon truly burns.”

With that, he steps back, signaling to his men. The banners dip in a formal show of respect as you walk forward, the Northern lords parting to make way for you. Thraxata stays behind, watchful, a dark shadow against the snow.

As you enter the gates of Winterfell, you can feel the eyes of Cregan Stark on your back, heavy with unspoken questions, and perhaps—just perhaps—the first stirrings of something that could grow amidst the frost and flame.

The warmth of Winterfell’s great hall is a great contrast to the biting cold outside. The stone walls are thick and ancient, adorned with tapestries depicting wolves in the hunt and battles long past. A roaring fire burns in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that dance across the rough-hewn beams above. The scent of woodsmoke and roasted meat fills the air, mingling with the faint tang of iron and earth, as though even the stone itself remembers the blood spilled within these walls.

You stride forward with measured grace, your fur-lined cloak trailing behind you. Eyes turn your way as you pass, curious glances that are quickly averted once they meet your violet gaze. The courtiers and bannermen of Winterfell are not accustomed to your kind—a dragonrider with Valyrian blood, a figure more suited to the tales of Old Nan than to the cold North. They murmur among themselves, voices hushed but thick with speculation, wondering if you are as fierce as the stories of your mother suggest.

Lord Cregan walks beside you, his stride steady and sure, the embodiment of Northern strength and resolve. He leads you to the head of the hall, where a carved wooden chair sits, draped in furs—a seat of honor, meant for you. As you take your place, his voice rings out, commanding the attention of everyone present.

"The Princess Y/N Velaryon graces us with her presence. Her arrival is most fortunate, for it seems the North’s business does not wait. House Glover has brought a criminal before us—a man accused of grave crimes—and they demand justice. Perhaps," he says, his grey eyes locking onto yours, "it would be fitting for a dragon to pass judgment."

There’s no mistaking the challenge in his words. This is a test, one meant to gauge your strength, your understanding of Northern customs, and how you wield your authority. He watches you closely, waiting for your reaction, as do the assembled lords. You know this moment is pivotal; how you handle this situation will determine whether they see you as just another southern princess, or as something more—someone who can command both fire and frost.

You meet his gaze evenly, a faint smile playing on your lips. "It would be an honor to dispense justice in the North, Lord Stark. Show me this criminal and let us see what manner of man he is."

Cregan gives a slight nod, and with a gesture, the doors at the end of the hall creak open. The sound echoes through the chamber as two men of House Glover drag a prisoner forward, shoving him to his knees before you. He’s a ragged, weathered man with wild eyes and a face marked by scars. His clothes are filthy and torn, his hands bound with rough cord. There’s a stink about him—of sweat, fear, and desperation.

One of the Glovers steps forward, bowing briefly before addressing you and Cregan. "This man, Wyl Gray, is accused of murdering his kin and stealing from their holdings. He fled north to escape our justice, but we tracked him down and brought him here, as is our right."

The hall falls silent, all eyes on you now. The weight of their expectation is palpable. You rise slowly from your seat, descending the steps with a regal grace. Your voice is soft but carries through the room with the authority that only a dragonrider can wield.

"Wyl Gray," you say, your tone cold as the Northern winds, "you stand accused of betraying your own blood and committing theft in the lands sworn to House Glover. What have you to say in your defense?"

The man’s eyes dart around wildly, searching for some hope, some mercy, but finding none. He looks up at you, trembling slightly. "I did what I had to," he snarls, his voice hoarse. "My kin treated me worse than a dog, taking what was mine by right. I took back what they stole from me—nothing more!"

The hall murmurs in response to his words, some in anger, others in grudging acknowledgment. You can see the flickers of approval from a few of the assembled Northerners—they value strength, even when twisted by desperation. But you know better than to be swayed by the claims of a desperate man. His actions speak louder than his words.

You step closer, your gaze piercing. "You claim they took from you, yet you took their lives. Blood demands blood, Wyl Gray. In the North, justice is harsh and swift, but it is also fair. A man who cannot protect what is his without resorting to murder is a man unfit to live among honorable men."

Cregan watches you intently, his expression unreadable, but you can feel the shift in the room. The lords are weighing your words, assessing how well you understand their ways. It’s not enough to be just, you must be decisive—and you must show that you are not ruled by softness.

"You are guilty of murder and theft," you continue, your voice unwavering. "But the North does not deal in mercy for such crimes. You shall face the punishment decreed by the Old Ways. Justice shall be meted out by the one who passes the sentence."

A heavy silence falls over the hall. This is the moment—where the test truly lies. You could ask Cregan to deal with the criminal himself, and none would question it. But you understand what is truly being asked of you. The North respects those who do not flinch from difficult decisions, those who stand by their words with action.

You turn to Cregan. "Bring me the sword," you command.

There’s a ripple of surprise among the lords, but Cregan’s expression shifts, a hint of approval crossing his stern features. He gestures, and a massive sword, long and sharp, is placed into your hands. Its weight is heavy, but you hold it with ease, feeling the cold steel beneath your fingers.

You step before the kneeling man. His eyes widen in terror, realizing that you intend to carry out the sentence yourself. You look down at him, feeling no pity, only the cold resolve needed to see justice done. "In the name of House Glover, for the blood you have spilled and the dishonor you have brought upon yourself, I sentence you to death. May the gods judge your soul as they see fit."

With a swift, clean stroke, you bring the sword down, severing his head from his body. The hall is silent, save for the soft thud of the head hitting the stone floor and the hiss of blood soaking into the rushes.

You let out a breath, handing the sword back to a waiting Stark guard. The lords nod with approval, respect in their eyes. This is not a land for those who shy away from harsh truths or difficult choices. You have shown them that you understand the North’s ways—and that you are as much dragon as you are queen’s daughter.

Cregan steps forward, a slight smile touching his lips. "Well done, Princess. The North remembers strength, and today, you have proven yours."

There’s a weight to his words, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve passed his test. The respect between you has grown, forged not only by fire and ice, but by a mutual understanding of what it takes to rule.

As the hall begins to stir with renewed conversation, you feel Cregan’s eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary, something unspoken passing between you. It’s not just respect now—there’s a flicker of something deeper, something that might grow, given time.

But for now, you’ve earned your place among the wolves. And in doing so, you’ve taken the first step toward binding the North to your mother’s cause.

A little more than two weeks have passed since your arrival at Winterfell, and in that time, you have come to understand the North in ways few from the south ever do. The cold no longer bites as fiercely, the rough customs of the Northerners have become familiar, and even the solemn howls of the wolves at night are a comfort rather than a cause for concern. You’ve spent your days among Cregan’s people, riding alongside his bannermen, sitting in council with his advisors, and breaking bread with his warriors in the hall. You’ve proven yourself capable in all the ways that matter to them—skilled with both words and steel, a dragon in human form.

The Northern lords have come to trust you, their respect won by your ability to speak plainly and match them in courage. They see in you a reflection of their own values—honor, strength, and loyalty. Even Thraxata, the Midnight Fury, has found her lair in the craggy wilderness nearby, roosting among the jagged rocks as if she, too, feels at home in this stark and wild land. The villagers whisper tales of the black dragon seen circling the mountains, her shadow long across the snow, a fearsome guardian from the days of old.

Today, you ride out with Lord Cregan and his men on a hunt. The sky is a bleak grey, thick with the promise of snow, and the air carries the scent of pine and earth. The forest is dense, the trees tall and ancient, their branches heavy with frost. It’s a test, of sorts—Cregan’s way of seeing how well you handle yourself in their world, not just as a rider of dragons, but as a hunter and a leader.

You ride astride a hardy Northern stallion, its breath steaming in the cold air, and you match the men stride for stride as they navigate the rough terrain. Cregan rides beside you, his expression more open than it had been when you first met. Over these past weeks, a bond has formed between you—one built on mutual respect and a growing sense of trust. He speaks more freely now, and there’s a warmth in his tone that was absent when you first arrived.

When the hunt begins, you do not hesitate to join the chase. The hounds bay as they track the scent of a massive stag, and you ride hard, your cloak snapping behind you in the wind. You’re no stranger to riding, and you handle your steed with ease, navigating the twisting paths and snow-laden ground. When the time comes to strike, you draw your bow with practiced precision, letting the arrow fly. It finds its mark true, and the stag falls. The men around you roar with approval, slapping their shields and calling your name in praise. They respect a woman who can hunt as well as any man, and here, they see you as one of their own—a warrior, not just a princess.

As the hunt winds down, Cregan approaches you, his face flushed from the cold and the thrill of the chase. "You’ve more than earned your place among us, Y/N," he says, his voice gruff but warm. "Few could keep pace with Northern men in their own forests, let alone best them. I see now why the Queen sent you instead of a prince. You’ve shown strength and wisdom—two things the North values above all else."

You incline your head in acknowledgment. "I’ve come to admire the North and its people. But admiration is not the same as allegiance. I must ask, Lord Stark—will you now stand by my mother and send your armies south to fight in her name?"

Cregan’s expression shifts, a shadow crossing his eyes as he considers your question. He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze turning toward the distant horizon, where the land stretches into a vast, icy wilderness. "The North is not like the South," he says finally, his tone measured. "Our duty is first and foremost to our own. With winter coming, my responsibility is to the Wall and to the people who must survive the cold months ahead. I cannot, in good conscience, march thousands of men south when their families might starve without them."

You frown slightly, frustration creeping in. "So you’ll abandon my mother’s cause? You gave your word, Lord Stark."

Cregan’s eyes meet yours, unwavering. "I do not break my word, Princess. I swore to uphold my oaths, and I will. But sending armies south would be folly with winter approaching. However," he continues, his tone softening as he watches your reaction, "there are those in the North who would fight, even in the harshest winters. The Greybeards—elders, warriors who have lived long and seen much. When winter comes, many of them leave their homes, believing it is better to pass in battle than to linger and be a burden on their kin. They are few in number, but each is worth a dozen younger men in skill and experience. I will send them to your mother, to fight in her name. They may not be an army, but they are a force to be reckoned with."

It’s a compromise, one that you didn’t expect but cannot wholly dismiss. You nod slowly, understanding the practicality behind his words. "Your support, even in this way, will strengthen our position. I thank you for honoring your oath, Lord Stark."

Cregan remains silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, more personal. "There is another matter I wish to discuss—a way to bind North and South even closer. You’ve proven yourself in the eyes of my people, and I have come to value your counsel and your strength. The North needs a Warden, but it also needs stability and unity. I am in need of a wife, Y/N."

His words catch you off guard. You had expected negotiations over troops and strategies, but not this. You study him closely, searching for any hint of jest, but there is none. His gaze is steady, earnest even, and the weight of his words is not lost on you.

"A marriage alliance," you murmur, more to yourself than to him. It’s a move that makes sense, politically and strategically. Your mother’s cause would be strengthened by such a bond, and Cregan’s position would be solidified, uniting the North under his leadership. But you know it’s more than just politics—there’s something personal in his offer, a recognition of the connection that has grown between you over these weeks.

Cregan inclines his head. "A marriage would do more than just bind our houses. It would be a show of unity between North and South, and it would ensure that whatever may come in this war, our strength remains undivided. You are a woman worthy of the North, and I would be honored to stand beside you as more than just allies."

You consider his words carefully, your mind weighing the implications. There’s a certain inevitability in the offer, a recognition that your paths have been converging since the moment you arrived at Winterfell. You could refuse, insist on keeping your independence, but you know that this is more than just a marriage proposal—it’s a partnership that could shape the course of the war and the future of the realm.

Finally, you meet his gaze, your voice clear and firm. "If this is the path we choose, Lord Stark, know that I will be as fierce in our union as I am in battle. The North will have a wife who is as much dragon as she is Velaryon. But I do not take such matters lightly—if we are to do this, it must be done with respect, trust, and understanding."

Cregan’s smile is genuine, his eyes gleaming with both respect and something warmer. "I would expect nothing less, Y/N. We’ll have much to discuss in the days to come, but I believe this could be the start of something greater than either of us alone."

The weight of his words lingers between you, and as you ride back toward Winterfell together, there’s an unspoken understanding—a shared resolve. You have won the respect of the North, secured their support, and now, perhaps, you are on the verge of something more—an alliance forged not just in duty, but in fire and ice, strength and trust.

[luv4fushi]

cw: nsfw. fem!reader & afab!reader minors dni (block my nsfw tag) ageless blogs dni

thinking about 20-year-old megumi who looks so much like his dad that of course the boy has girls staring at him everywhere he goes. he’s got the same brownish green eyes as his dad, the same dark hair, and the same face—and it doesn’t help that his stoic personality is like a flame to a swarm of moths. he’s tall, well-built from his years of training, and essentially a carbon copy of toji—maybe a little bit of gojo, too, because he’d been raised by the eccentric white-haired sorcerer.

“you look so much like your dad,” gojo says every chance he gets. he shivers and then scowls st the memory of toji.

everyone else claims he looks like gojo—only because he’s so pretty that it makes sense to be compared to the man who had raised him and not the sorcerer killer.

but what everyone doesn’t know is that megumi isn’t a carbon copy of toji or gojo. he’s got one thing that sets him apart physically and it’s his hands.

megumi’s hands are gorgeous. his fingers are long and a little thin. they’re a bit veiny too, which makes you drool even though you hate to admit it. he’s got piano hands and you shamelessly stare at them whenever he taps his fingers on surfaces. his cuticles are always moisturized and his nails are trimmed—he claims it’s because his shadows need to be accurate in order for him to summon them, but you know he’s just secretly into self care.

he lets you paint his fingernails black, admiring the way your tongue sticks out in concentration as you try to not get any nail polish on his skin.

when he holds your hand, he’s always rubbing patterns into your skin. it’s like he can’t physically touch you without savoring you as much as he can! his hands are everywhere—your hips, your arm, tucked on your lower belly for some odd, perhaps primal reason.

he likes to move you out of the way (you’re usually unaware of your surroundings when he’s with you because he’s just so safe to be around!) by gently pulling you to his chest with his smooth fingertips, his hand being large enough to nearly cover your entire side.

when you cry, he brushes underneath your eyes with his thumb, wiping off your salty tears before kissing you. his hands are large enough to cup your face and cover it at the same time, which he likes to do when you’re acting a little difficult.

megumi likes to wrap his hands around your neck, not ever squeezing enough to cut any airflow—he just likes the way his fingers look when they’re gripping your smooth skin. he likes trailing his fingertips over each of the possessive bruises that he tends to leave on your sensitive skin. it’s like a reminder to him (and you) that you’re his.

you love the way his hands look when they’re digging into your skin, squeezing your plush thighs as he greedily laps up your release. your cunt spasms at the sight of his fingers wrapped tightly around your thighs. “n-no more! ‘s too much, gumi! can’t—!” he only caresses your skin and forces your legs apart with those pretty hands of his, holding your soft thighs apart. your skin dips around his fingers and the view is so pretty that you have to squeeze your eyes shut so that you don’t release all over his face again.

your favorite sight—and his too—is when his long digits are pumping in and out of your cunt. you’re breathless and mewling his name, watching as his fingers break you down into mush. “cum for me, baby, i know you can do it. such a greedy girl sucking my fingers right in, hm?” sometimes he wishes he could see the way his fingers curl inside your body, pressing up against the spots he knows has you shuddering for him. after you finish from his fingers alone, he loves to slowly pull his them out, admiring the glistening slick coating them. “see this, baby? just from my fingers, you sensitive little thing. do you like my hands that much?”

you love megumi’s hands. that’s one thing about him that’s strictly him—you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

[spider-ghoul]

Babysitting <3

Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)

In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!

this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website

~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~

At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.

"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"

"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"

"Six is when we're leaving."

"I'll be there at five fifty."

"You're a savior."

This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.

I mean, he was  kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.

At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.

I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.

She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.

She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.

To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.

"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"

I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.

I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.

I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.

Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing. 

As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.

I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.

I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.

It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.

I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.

I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.

I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.

Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.

"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"

"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"

He laughed and my heart fluttered.

"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning. 

"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."

"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess. 

"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."

"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."

"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.

And i felt my face getting hot again.

"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down. 

He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him. 

"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."

After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.

He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth. 

I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?" 

"Uh.. ten-ish?"

"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him. 

"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."

"It's not far-"

"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."

I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude." 

"Neither me or Sally would care."

"...."

"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"

"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything. 

Percy smiled, making my heart melt.

"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again. 

"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow. 

"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.

"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:

"Watching me sleep?" 

"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.

"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly,  staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.

After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me. 

"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-" 

"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks." 

He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that. 

I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body.  I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him. 

I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again. 

I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?" 

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?" 

"Well I kinda assumed..?" 

"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?" 

Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.

"No, I don't mind.." 

I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him. 

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut. 

I was woken when Percy broke the silence. 

"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent. 

"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes. 

"I really like you, you know that?" 

If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered. 

"... I really like you too." 

I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip. 

"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it." 

I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer. 

It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't  remember. 

I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said. 

And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment. 

The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home. 

We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then. 

He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 15)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Sleep eludes you. You toss and turn that first night, not used to sleeping on your own. Every sound makes you jump. When the sky goes black and the bushes rustle with the breeze, you have to double check the locks on the doors no less than three times, fastening it with the wooden bolt just to be safe. 

Without John around, the world is twice as loud; crickets chirp raucous melodies, buzzing so loud that sometimes you swear there must be one on the pillow right beside your head, and, in the distance, an owl hoots at an interval so irregular that each screech tugs you back from the brink of sleep. The house groans as it settles into itself; the first time you hear it, you spring upright in bed, heartbeat erratic, certain that it’s the sound of someone coming up the porch steps. 

You collapse back onto the mattress with a huff when you finally recognize the sound for what it is. 

You don’t sleep well that night. Dawn finds you awake before its arrival. The songbirds keep you from drifting off back to sleep when the first wispy rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, and you lie in bed until the possibility of sleep is well behind you. That makes you huff, bitter over the loss. 

Again, the day is slow to come over you. It seems almost reluctant to really get going, the sunlight clear and the air brisk but the day itself slow moving. An early morning chill forces you to don heavier garments than usual. 

After breakfast, you take Buttercup into the paddock to run around, watching her from the edge of the pen, humming to yourself under your breath. 

Most of the morning is spent cleaning and doing chores around the house. You muck the stables, feed the horses, scrub the dirty laundry on the washboard before hanging it up on the line, weed the garden, and promise yourself that next week you’ll work up the energy to boil linseed oil to polish and oil the furniture. As it is, you stagger into the kitchen around midday for lunch, sticky with sweat. 

Kate comes up the path on horseback not too long after that, a large swooped hat perched precariously on her head. She has to hold it in place by the brim to keep it from flying off. You watch her from the window at first, drying your hands from the quick wash you gave them after finishing your lunch.

“I ought to start making new friends,” you quip when she takes a seat next to you on the porch swing. 

“Sick of my company already?” she laughs. 

“Well, a girl’s gotta have options.” 

She snorts at that, tipping her hat lower on her head to shade her eyes from the sun. It has the effect of cutting a wide shadow across her face, leaving only a swath of white teeth exposed. 

Her beauty has always come as an afterthought. Tanned, freckled skin, and hair like golden wheat. But you look now and you see something different than the woman you’re used to seeing, and it dawns on you that what you’re seeing now is a version of Kate divorced from the idea of her that you’d always had in your head. Almost fuller; more robust. 

You tear your eyes away only when she catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow. 

She coaxes you into saddling Buttercup up and accompanying her on a trail ride. Part of you resists initially, still wounded from your last ride, and when Kate presses you for more information, you reluctantly divulge, recounting the events from the weeks prior with a tremble in your voice. She nods only once while you speak, keeping her comments to herself. That she must have already known doesn’t surprise you; she’d insinuated as much only the other week. 

You’d be wise to not keep secrets from Kate in the future, you realize. Best to keep someone as omniscient as her on your side. 

After some encouragement, she talks you into a leisurely stroll and even helps you dress Buttercup in the stables. The dizzying spell of apprehension settles over you like a heavy fog up until you blink and realize that the two of you have been riding beside each other in silence for the better part of a half mile. 

The fear doesn’t entirely evaporate, however. Any sudden dip in the terrain or unexpected noise from Buttercup makes you start. You take several breaks to breathe and walk around. At the top of a hill, you ask Kate in a voice verging on shrill if you can take a break and dismount before she’s even answered you. 

“She can sense if you’re on edge,” Kate reminds you, nodding to where Buttercup grazes in a nearby patch of grass. 

“Well, I can’t help that much. I am on edge.”

She tips her head back to look at the sky and sighs before looking back at you. “Sit down for a bit then. It’s not a race.”

And you do, for a spell. You sit and rest with your back against the trunk of a tree that branches high above you, the canopy blotting out any sunlight save for the tendril thin strands that sink through like stones in water. 

You’re striking a delicate balance between the needs of the flesh and the needs of the soul. What the soul wants is to push itself beyond the boundaries that formerly enclosed it; after a lifetime of servitude and desires suppressed, even a simple trail ride feels momentous. What the flesh wants, however, is to shade in the shade until the urge to retch wears off. 

The walk takes the two of you by a farm with a large, fenced-in enclosure. A couple houses sit around the enclosure. The smell of the livestock is pungent at first and your nose wrinkles as you approach the farm, but you adjust after a time. 

Recent weeks so far from home have spoiled you; back in the city, the pungent stench of waste and manure was commonplace, the sour cloak of tobacco stinking up the alehouses and alleyways as much as the parlors and lounges. You’d adjusted to it back then as well. 

The grazing cows rumble and low behind the fence. It’s a pleasant bucolic scene, one lifted straight from a painting that you swear you’ve seen before, though the artist’s name escapes you. 

Looking out into antediluvian pastures sets your heart at ease. When the farmer wanders out of the barn to greet the two of you, the two of you join him and his wife for coffee in the big house. 

For a brief period of time, it’s like stepping out of your body; there’s no impetus to get a move on, and inertia doesn’t set in like a rolling fog leaving you stranded in no man’s land. Nothing like the late evenings lying in bed in your aunt and uncle’s apartment, staring up at the pockmarked ceiling and praying for something to change. 

You, simply, have a coffee.

After bidding them farewell, the bulk of the afternoon is spent at Kate’s house, a tiny plot of land just outside of town surrounded by fields of ochre prairie grass. You’re wiped by the end of the ride, sweat running in rivulets down your back. While Kate brings the horses into her little stable to let them rest and eat, you fill up the porcelain bowl in her bathroom with water to wash your face. 

It’s quiet. You help with a few affairs around the house and you learn, to your own internal amusement, that Kate hums through her chores. Soap stops by in the early evening to drop off Kate’s mail and stays for supper, glad for the company. You watch bemusedly as he scarfs down three corned beef sandwiches with ease, mildly nauseated by the way he talks with his mouth full. 

“Can he even breathe?” you hiss to Kate while Soap is busy shoveling food into his gob. 

She nods, unbothered by the display in front of her. “You should see him when he’s actually hungry.”

You pale when he belches, pushing your plate away from you.

“Ye tell yer man when he’s back what a good job I’ve done, Mrs. Price,” he says, licking a leaking trail of sauce off his thumb. 

“Won’t the town still standing be sufficient evidence?”

“Aye, but it’s sweeter comin’ from the missus, ye dinnae think?” 

Incorrigible boy. You shake your head, acquiescing even if only to get him to shut up. That mollifies him, gets him crowing about the raise he’ll get, or the commendation. You think he’ll start going on about lofty aspirations towards sheriffdom, but he never quite gets to that point. You wonder if the rest of your life will be similarly composed of assumptions that fall flat when you look at them too hard.

He takes you home at the end of the night as a favor to Kate, who watches you from the door until she disappears into the faraway. You only have to yell at Soap twice to slow down when he tries to goad you into a faster gallop. 

You sleep better that night, but only just. This time, it’s the empty spot beside you on the bed that bothers you. His pillow is cold when you reach over to touch it. Your hand lingers on the pillow; there’s a passing thought that maybe the warmth of your hand will transfer into the pillow and trick you in sleep. You have another passing thought that maybe somewhere out there, wherever John is, he’ll feel a phantom hand creep across the bed to cup his cheek. 

The blooming flower of daylight comes again to wake you up and the cycle starts anew. 

The chores never end, but there’s some comfort in routine. Regularity breeds familiarity. Any contempt has long been bled out of you, almost without you even noticing.

The days pass slowly. A horse-drawn carriage. A robin nestled in the branches of a pine tree sings at evening twilight. You look up to find it stark against the dark green needles, the fir’s red heart.

A neighbor comes by with fresh strawberries that you eat from the bowl out in the sun, lying down in the grass by the paddock. You suck the juice out of a big one when you bite into it and it drips messy down your chin. When the achenes fleck off, you wipe them off on your dress. 

Though you half expect Kate to come by, she never does. Perhaps she’s busy in town. You remind yourself that the brevity of your friendship can hardly measure up to competing priorities. Minding the shop, for instance, or stopping by to check on other acquaintances. 

And then the waiting ends when you see a dark shadow on the horizon that you recognize all at once as a man on horseback headed towards the house. 

Elation clambers up your throat. You very nearly shout at the sheer sight of him, but at the last second, you manage to reign it in. 

You wave at John from the porch when you can finally make out the face of the man riding up the path. Despite the euphoric wave that washes over you at the sight of him, you feign composure, keeping your butt planted on the porch swing until he dismounts and heads down the path towards you.

There's something striking about watching him from a distance. Like Kate, you see him now from a new angle, an added weight to him. When he lumbers up the porch steps, you don't just see the man that dragged you to the court house and forced you to marry him, but a man in his prime. Square, masculine jaw; thick thighed. Something in your belly stirs when he rolls his shoulders back, accentuating the breadth of them. 

When he reaches you, he grips you under the arms to pull you up, but your arms wind around his neck without any coaxing, meeting him halfway. Every inch of your body presses into his, and he smells and feels exactly as you remembered. 

“Been missing you like hell, sweetheart,” John rasps into your ear. 

“Missed you too,” you mutter, lips smushed into a kiss against his cheek. 

And you did, didn’t you? You can say it for once without worrying that you’ll fall apart. 

The two of you stumble into the house in a daze. Your hands are already trembling well before you fist them into John’s hair to drag him into a kiss. Desperation claws up your throat, need choking you when you go to tell him how much you missed him. You missed him bone deep. 

He pulls away briefly, chuckling when you whine. “Darlin’, can I at least get cleaned up? I’m a mess.”

His beard has grown since you last kissed him, the mutton chops more pronounced now. It scratches your lips and cheeks when you tug him back down for a deeper kiss. He can clean himself later as far as you’re concerned. You’ve gone three days now without your husband and you can’t go a second more. 

You can feel his smile when he breaks the kiss again. “Honey—”

“No,” you cut him off, a whine threading your voice. You tighten your arms around his neck, pushing your bosom into his chest. “Please, John, don’t make me wait; I can’t—”

“Alright, alright,” John sighs, and then hunches slightly to fit his hands under your thighs  and hike you up his body until your legs wind around his waist. “Poor girl. Never seen you this needy before. You missed me that bad?”

“Yes,” you answer succinctly, already pressing kisses into the sweaty skin of his neck and his cheeks. His arms shake when he laughs.

He nearly trips up the stairs when you suck at the salty skin of his neck. 

John smiles amusedly when you whip your dress off, nearly getting tangled in it before letting it pile on the floor by the bed. 

In a different time, your eagerness might embarrass you, but you’re well beyond that now. It’s impossible to hear that distant voice in your head shrieking modesty when your husband watches you indulgently and unbuttons his shirt so slowly that you nearly bark at him to hurry it up. And then you actually do when he goes to fold his shirt instead of simply tossing it to the floor.

He laughs; it sends frissons of heat down your spine. 

It’s unclear who pursues and who is pursued this time. All you know is that you either push him onto the bed or he pulls you down with him, clothes long since stripped and piled onto the floor. Your hands sink into the meat of his chest when you sit astride his lap, wet folds grinding on the hard shaft jutting up between his legs. John hisses through clenched teeth, already worked up, fit to burst. You wonder if he tended to himself at all on his trip, whether he even had time. 

The hands tightening around your waist tell you that, whether or not he did, it’s inconsequential now when faced with the thing he’s been wanting most.

Your instinct is to lift your hips and line his member up with your sopping entrance before sinking down, but John surprises you by shifting up the bed and dragging you with him, not stopping until your pussy is hovering over his mouth. 

It’s easy to panic over that, easy to grow skittish. You start when the flat of his tongue runs up the seam of your cunt, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the bed altogether being the big hands clamped around your hips.  

“You try to keep your pussy off my face and I’ll give you a licking you won’t like anywhere near as much,” John warns, and then pulls you down onto his face without further ado. 

Your back arches at the first lick, his tongue burrowing into your hole, softened by the slick leaking out of you. His lips and tongue work you over until you’re a shivering, coiled mess on top of his face, hands braced against the wall and toes burrowing into the mattress. 

A stiff tongue stabs up into your hole. The groan he lets out at the taste of you vibrates through you, making you clench around his tongue. 

You’ve never been much of a drinker, but you feel drunk now, grinding on his mouth. Hands running through his hair. Blissed out, sex leaking, throbbing. Shameful noises pouring out of you unbidden, your inhibitions packed up and long gone by now. His upper lip glistens with your juices and when his eyes blink open, they’re nearly black with desire. 

The hands on your bottom holding you over his head grip into you good and tight. He readjusts his hold on you whenever you try to pull off his face, yanking you back down and digging his fingers in harder, the tips wedged between your cheeks. You practically yowl when a finger prods at your back hole, worrying over the puckered flesh. 

The time for gentle words is far beyond him. When you glance down between your legs, his hair is matted with sweat and disheveled, a flush high on his cheekbones. Blue eyes peer out through slits, locked on the dripping mess between your thighs. His nose presses hard into your pubic bone when he pulls you down onto his waiting mouth, lips parting and tongue sawing over your clit. That part you can’t see, but you feel the wet slide of his tongue over your slit. 

You come with a finger lodged knuckle deep in your ass and his tongue rolling over your clit, coaxing it from you. Your whole body pulses and shivers. Chuckling to himself when you go dumb during it, slumped over him and panting hard. Tears dripping down your cheeks that John cleans up himself with his tongue when he drags you back down his chest and rolls the two of you over. 

“God, you look so pretty like this, honey,” he coos when he’s got you under him, pinching your cheeks between his fingers until your lips go plump and pursed. 

When he drags you into a kiss, his tongue still tastes of you. 

He takes you on your back after that, knees over his shoulders and bending you in ways you didn’t think possible. Whatever control he had before is gone now. He thrusts in to the hilt the second he gets you flat on your back, taking three days of frustration out on you, near punching your cervix with the head of his cock. 

“There we go— fuck—” John growls. “C’mon, squeeze me tight, honey; make me come in your pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

You feel like a creature turned inside of itself. All high yips, sharp pangs of pleasure, an ache in your hips that you know instinctively will worsen by morning, and a deep seated, unquenchable need. He mates you like a beast in heat, jaw clenched and brows furrowed; when your eyelids slip shut, he growls at you to keep them open, and you do only to find him staring down at you with that indelible, maddening intensity of his. 

“Nngh, John—John—” you gasp.

“Just a little, darlin’—shh, c’mon, just take it. Like that, yes—that’s it.” 

A dark urge flutters under your skin, blinking its eyes open. You stare up at him through half lidded eyes. “Gonna come in me and give me a baby, John?”

His eyes go black. “I’m gonna fill this tight cunt right up, you keep talking like that.”

You reach up to rake your hands through his hair. "Please give me a baby, John. Give me it, please."

His hips snap forward, knocking the breath out of you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, lost in it, your nipples tagging his chest with every thrust. 

If you could peel back your skin and tuck him into your ribcage, you would. He’s already in you anyway; everywhere it counts. Leathery musk wafting under your nose, sweat-slicked skin, his spend deep in your cunt and leaking out around his throbbing cock, the heat steaming off him and warming you from the outside in and inside out. His come spurts into you hot and viscous, so deep that you swear you can taste it at the back of your throat. 

In the aftermath, you curl up against his chest and he traces a finger lazily up and down your spine. 

“You’ve been so patient with me.” You don’t know what prompts you to say that, but you know it’s been sitting in your chest and waiting for you to put it to words. 

His fingers pause in their ministrations, his hand resting flat on your back. “Patient?”

“Don’t play dumb, John. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Got some nerve accusing me of playing dumb,” he chuckles softly, leaning down to butt his forehead against yours. 

You nearly go cross eyed. Doe eyed. Treacle tart soft in your chest. You wonder if you’ll look back on this someday in fear and awe, and think that is the very moment when you finally let him in. 

This is how love suffuses into the girl: you wake up gasping to find it staring down at you. 

You’re brave enough now to ask what it is that you need. The world flashes briefly before you: in it, you see every possible version of a girl, how she goes from animal skin to teeth glinting in the night. She is perforated and vibrating; lacunae as the voice drips back into the sea, papyrus crackling hot in the fire. 

Maybe new love flounders again against the rhythms of the old, the song of you now sleeping beneath an alder tree, thickening with lemon and honey.

“I’m going to…—you know I’ll tell you. I just need time.”

“Darlin’, I know. There’s no use for rushing things. It happens when it happens,” John murmurs. He drops a bristly kiss on your forehead. 

“…And if it doesn’t happen?”

He shrugs. “Then it doesn’t happen.”

It’s a shock when love finds you because you don’t expect it. You’d open the door to anything else in a heartbeat, but it’s love that finds you cowering under the stairs. 

Love is not something you’ve ever touched, not even grazed. You recognize the insidious rot of lust or the gnarled grip of possession, but love? That has yet evaded your attempts on it. Not that you’ve ever given it a good go. 

But now, when you think of it, it looks at you through blue eyes. 

You sleep on it. You don’t contemplate when it’ll happen only because you know it’s inevitable. Your lips have already grown loose. When he eats you out in the early morning hours after a good night’s sleep for once since John left, you have to swallow back the wails of I love you, I love you, tell me you love me, please, please. 

Your lips part, lax. Only sinking your mouth down over his turgid length after he’s made you come keeps you from accidentally saying the words. The soft, grunted fuck he lets out at that empties out any thought in your head.

Desperate times, desperate measures. 

If John knows, he jealously guards your secret. Would take it to his grave you think. Just for him and you to know. Any temerity from the night before is squashed in the light of day, and you sit across from him at the table during breakfast wishing that he could hear the words in your head, if only so you didn’t have to say it out loud. 

God bites the lip when you want it most to part. Isn’t that just the nature of life?

John leaves you off at the general store as always, dropping a peck to your lips before heading out on his way, but when you wander inside, you find Miles behind the counter instead of Kate. That dims the excitement in your chest a tad. It’s no fault of his, but you’d hoped to regale Kate with the revelation you’d had the night previous, omitting some of the lewder details. Instead you’ll be forced to wait until she’s back in town. When you ask Miles when abouts that’ll be, he shrugs, unable to give you a definite answer.

“Visiting a friend, she said,” he tells you, and you blink like you don’t know exactly what that means. 

Her absence leaves you in a lurch though, little else to do but wander around the store. You’d leave entirely and try to find something else to occupy your time, but you feel a bit foolish coming in just to leave right away, though you’re sure Miles wouldn’t care either way. Still, you tell yourself you’ll linger for a few minutes before heading out to the library or down the road for a coffee at the inn. 

The bell over the door jingles, but you pay it no mind. 

You linger in the aisle with the fruit preserves and canned fish, gazing into the bottles. Tins with hand-drawn labels, branded packaging. On another shelf, you find oyster crackers, National Biscuit Company on the label. Nabisco. If Kate were minding the shop, you’d pop your head around the aisle to ask her what corned beef brand she used the other day. 

The sound of spurs jangling from behind you makes you frown and turn your head. 

A hand clamps down over your mouth, muffling the yelp that leaps instinctively from your throat, and you go shock cold when the blunt muzzle of a pistol wedges against the small of your back. 

“Bet you thought you were clever gettin’ me out of town, didn’t you, girl?”

Your eyes widen.

[nvuy]

to invoke perjury (and to love no one else) — sunday

summary. an old telltale whisper of a confession leaves sunday defenceless, and all the more paranoid of your loyalty to him.

notes. omg this is so epic i say as i hold up this work that nobody asked for. i finally finished the penacony tb quest everybody clap it up for me. my sunday obsession is so so bad somebody save me from the trenches.

warnings. mdni. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is (unsurprisingly) very controlling, sunday is also tremendously paranoid of everything, yandere themes, he makes you cry, sunday uses that weird lying curse on you, but worry not he does love you. i think. let me know if ive missed anything!

“You are breaking my heart.”

You glanced up from the model of the city, growing tired of picking at the corner of one of the buildings. A nervous habit, if you will. When Sunday noticed the damage later, he’d scold you for it.

For now, his eyes were elsewhere. He, too, was staring down at the miniature pinball machine, spinning it with a gloved finger.

You fidgeted, uncertain. “What?”

“You’re lying to me,” Sunday accused. His tone was soft.

Your hands pressed to the sides of the table. “I haven’t lied to you.”

“Not recently, no,” he agreed. He agreed, and you almost sprang from your seat. “But you have. And you still are.”

To that, you gripped the edge of the table tighter. Uncertainty wrought heavy in your bones like lead.

It suddenly felt cold. As if he’d slid ice along your spine. A chill wracked through you. You realised the feeling was his gaze.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

But he was still slowly twisting the pinball machine around and around. He then sighed.

And then he leaned back and traced a finger along the edge of the table, not at all mindful of the small animated figurines occupying the city.

He gave one of their heads a small push, and the small figure’s body sank into the floor.

You took it as a warning.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

Of course you did.

It was a swirl of colour and muted hushed whispers now, but you could recall taking his hand, promising him the world, and kissing along his fingers to the swell of his wrist.

You nodded meekly.

Sunday hummed, clearly lost in thought. “I never forgot what you said to me.” Oh, you knew that look. That distant, faraway look. Like he’s trapping himself in his own head again. He was good at that. Acting, pretending. Putting on a show. “I’d never felt the same again.”

He was still tracing the edge of the table.

There was a small grin on his face.

Such a pleasant expression, paired with that a gorgeous light-hearted tone. His voice sounded like a lullaby echoing in the back of your mind.

His halo was glowing in the light.

“You said to me you’d be my everything. You offered a piece of your very own soul to me.” He gloved finger flitted from the polished wood, and then stopped short of your hand resting on the table. “You have such a lovely heart.”

The muscle raced in your chest.

You weren’t sure if it was out of flattery or fear. You weren’t able to tell the difference anymore.

“Such a shame you continue to spit poison at me. I used to love talking to you.” His gloved finger followed the curvature of your knuckles. “You’ve changed. You’re so different from when I met you.”

Your hands curled into fists as he traced the bone-white colour as you squeezed. Your nails dug into your palms.

He’d changed, too. He’s different too. He’s more watchful now. He barely makes time for himself anymore. He’s always either working or watching you like a hawk.

It’s unnerving. The unsettling brush of his lashes against your skin, and that unbreaking stare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all you said. “I haven’t changed at all.”

Sunday hummed. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You found the courage to glance up at him. That same unbreaking stare. When you met his gaze, he smiled. “I still care about you.”

“But, you don’t.” There was a light hearted ring in his voice.

You stopped. “What?”

“You don’t love me anymore.”

And there it was.

He was paranoid. He always had been, since the day you shedded a glove from his hand to kiss the skin wrapped around bone white knuckles. He’d been so busy pressing his nails into his palm, so preoccupied in what you were doing, why you were doing this, what you gained from it.

He’s paranoid now. He’s never stopped. He’s always been anxious. He’s always been overthinking your every move like you’re an opponent in a game of chess; always on his toes, always watching, either with his own eyes that more often than not, glared daggers into you, or through the nightingales that swarmed the mansion.

You were shaking. You tried to stop yourself.

He noticed. “You’re upset.”

“Of course, I’m upset.” Your nails dug into the underside of the table. You felt them strain as your jaw clenched.

“Is it wrong to think you’re dishonest?”

“Yes,” you answered. “Yes, it’s wrong. You’re wrong.”

“Perhaps I am, then, for falling in love with a liar.” His fingers chased up your arm slowly. “I always valued honesty above all. How rich.”

“But I’m–” You didn’t even know how to defend yourself.

Instead, you fell completely silent, face burning in humiliation.

The scent of him was intoxicating. Orange blossoms and sandalwood. You had memorised the scents of his favourite fragrances, the shampoo he used, down to his toothpaste. You knew all of it. The way he brushed his hair, the temperature of the water he preferred for his baths, to the chronological order of steps on how he got ready in the morning.

It was all order; a set of stagnant unchanging steps. Like he was following a recipe to its very word.

He was particular.

And he hated change.

He took your silence as an invitation to pry further. “You were so enchanting that night.” He was telling the truth. You could read it on his expression–and his expression. That same expression he held on that night you offered him your heart to take. “And I know now, that you are most enchanting when you lie.”

“What’s–” You interlocked your fingers. His own were tracing the bone of your shoulder now. “What have I done? Why’re you–”

“You, of all people, must understand my uncertainty,” he spoke. He sounded as if you were supposed to know the answer.

Maybe there was no answer at all. No spark to his flame. He’s just doing all of this, because he can. Because he’s paranoid, and he’s hiding his churning stomach and the anxiety that fills his throat with this stage play he’s put on.

“You willingly took in a perfect home, much different from where you came from.” He gestured to the room around him. Pillars that intricately curled into the ceiling, floor polished, the scaled model of Penacony tended to and dusted, and the walls featuring thousands of commissioned pieces from artists all over the galaxy. “No sorrows, no disorder, no dishonesty. Certainly not here.

His eyes shift to you again. “And certainly not now.”

You shrank down into your seat.

“And, under the light of the Harmony–” He raises his hands to gesture to the ceiling, as if THEY’RE watching over him. “–All wickedness is revealed. That is precisely why you're so radiant in the sunlight.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

He must have noticed your expression. You must have appeared distressed. Fidgeting nervously, your blood running cold beneath your skin.

Perhaps your apprehension, the clear anxiousness drawn over your face, egged him further.

He did not dwell on it. Instead, he simply narrowed his eyes. “It is as I suspected.” When your eyebrows raised in surprise, he continued, “you’ve been lying.”

“You don’t trust me anymore?” You frantically wiped a stray tear that had fallen. You hoped he didn’t notice the waver in your tone.

Sunday merely nodded, blinking slowly. “You understand now.”

You stared at the floor. His eyes were burning into your skull.

Your brows knitted together.

A bell tolled nearby.

You don’t recall any sort of church close by.

“I cannot excuse, nor house, nor bed, a liar. It is beyond THEIR natural order. Liars have no place in an assimilated, perfect world.”

You looked elsewhere. You picked nervously at the hem of your shirt, suddenly feeling like you were drowning in hot water.

Your nose filled and clogged with a horrible earthy scent much unlike his shampoo. This was different, real and raw, like there was somebody else in the room.

When you looked around, there was nobody else.

Just the two of you.

“Stand up,” he ordered softly.

You did so, hesitantly, still shaking.

You must have looked pathetic.

Sunday offered you his hand.

Desperate, you took it, and kissed his knuckles.

He let out a faint laugh. “That will not work. Not this time, I’m afraid.” He looked up towards the ceiling for a brief moment, before he closed his eyes. “O Triple-Faced Soul, let fire brand flesh and bone with the mark of honesty–”

Something was wrong, and his face was changing.

For a moment, you saw tracks like golden water flow down his cheeks.

His halo was glowing, but there was something else behind his head. A clouded and muted swirl of colours, mismatched and ever changing.

You tried to pull your hand from his grip, but there was a weight pressed to your limbs.

“–And ensure that every vow is etched in the fervour of undeniable truth.”

“What’re you–” He let go of your hand and you stumbled. The bell toll was only just louder by a margin, and there was now a searing heat in your head. “What’re you doing?!”

Your hands desperately rested on his shoulders, trying to keep yourself upright.

You tried again to wrench yourself from his touch. It was sickening how gentle he was being.

Slowly, he guided you back to the love seat, tutting and scolding you as you fought in his hold. How could somebody so horrible be so gentle?

You felt the urge to throw up all over his clothes. Sweat beaded down your neck and pooled at your collarbone like a necklace.

“What did you do to me?” You were panicking. “What have you done?” You pressed the pads of your fingers to your temples to try and soothe the burning. “You cursed me?”

“I’ve blessed you,” he whispered. “This way, you will be rectified.”

Something was whispering to you. Almost inaudible, indiscernible, like the banging of a death knell in your ears.

What is it? What is that?

You looked to him for an answer, but words caught heavy on your tongue like lead.

“All you have to do is tell the truth.”

You shook your head. “I’m not speaking to you like this,” you tried. Your voice came out strained.

“You don’t have a choice,” he snapped. “You are not in control.”

“You’ll hurt me for the sake of your precious pride?” Your hands coiled into fists at your sides. Thank the Lords he’d seated you, for you were sure you would’ve fallen over by now. Your feet had since gone numb.

The whispering was right in your ear. When you turned your head to confront the noise, there was nothing there.

“It will not hurt if you tell the truth,” Sunday explained gently. “I hope that doesn’t come as a challenge to you.”

Get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head–

“I’m not answering anything you ask,” you forced out through gritted teeth.

Sunday only let out a breathy, exasperated sigh. “Then don’t. We’ll see what happens to you.”

You said nothing.

Instead, you tried to stand up to leave. Screw this curse he’s put on your head because he’s retreated into his own insecurities. He wasn’t winning this time.

You were so sick of this paranoia.

When you stood, a dizziness hit you like a wave. You desperately reached for anything, and your hands found his. He did not guide you back down into the seat, but his gloved hands remained encased in yours.

Such a perfect, warm fit.

Sunday offered you a gentle, yet peculiar smile.

“Question: have you ever lied to me?”

You didn’t answer.

Your flesh felt as though it was set alight. As if the halovian had personally poured gasoline over you and held a match to the tip of your nose and watched you burn alive.

The whispering was loud. The voices was indiscernible. You couldn’t place a finger to its source, nor a face, nor a name. Three voices, all repeating the same thing. You could tell from its tone, its pitch modulation, and yet you couldn’t understand what was being spoken.

It didn’t sound like any language you knew.

“Answer the question, angel.”

Hot tears bubbled over your lashes.

“Yes.” You fought to keep the word lodged in the back of your throat, but when you forced it out, the lava on your tongue cooled significantly. The whispers grew softer.

He noticed the look of relief cross over your face. “See?” A gloved hand came down to gently touch the crown of your head. “Just answer truthfully, and it will all be okay.”

Then, the white material of his gloves came forward to swipe gently at the tears below your eyes. Salt soaked the soft cotton.

Your hand reached up shakily to hold onto his wrist.

“Did you lie to me the night we met?”

The swirls of colour around his halo were returning.

Your thumb traced the ring on his finger. Gold, with a blue gem on its interior.

Instead of answering, you tried to press your lips to his.

Sunday stopped you, though it took restraint. He held your face still, lips just barely brushing against your own. He tasted salt. Salt and sweet lies, and Aeons above was it addicting.

He sighed. “Don’t tempt me.” He watched you flinch, and rang a simple reminder, “answer.”

“Yes,” you said.

As he expected.

You were so beautiful like this. Raw, and honest.

His heart squeezed with disgust. “Did you lie when you said you loved me?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “No.”

He smiled.

“Did you lie when you said you’d die for me?” He tilted his head.

Your lips pressed together. Your fingers curled tight in the loose curls of his hair. Your nails brushed softly against his feathers.

Your chest heaved when he finally sat beside you on the couch. His skin was so warm pressed against yours, and the contact made you feel dizzy.

“Yes,” you responded.

He accepted it. His finger softly petted your cheek.

Oh, you were crying.

You felt so pathetic and weak, and bubbled words caught in your throat like fish on a hook. You felt trapped, and the colours behind his head were growing more vibrant, brighter, accompanying and drowning out that awful halo.

He’s horrible. He’s so horrible.

You wanted to say it, you wanted to tell him that you needed him to leave. You needed him gone.

He beat you to it. “Do you hate me?”

You heaved a sob. “No.” And you didn’t. You didn’t hate him, despite his obsessive control and unjustified possessiveness. His hubris, and his inability to see past his own paranoia and fear. “Please stop.”

You pressed your lips to the small, poniard-shaped jewel on his chest.

Your sign of devotion did not deter him, though, he was sure you would always have some sort of effect on him.

“It shouldn’t hurt if you tell the truth,” Sunday reminded you. There was a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated, this time as firmly as you could—albeit your voice shook with fervour. “I never hated you.”

“I’m relieved.” His hand petted your hair. “So, so relieved.”

You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed.

You prayed it was over. You prayed and prayed for the voices to dissipate from your mind. You tried to will them away, to squeeze your eyes shut and beg for the whispers to fade into the background of white noise and static.

The kaleidoscope of colours crept below your eyelids.

Sunday held you securely, and as warm as he was, and as firm and yet so gently his arms sat snugly against you, you felt so cold. So cold and alone and so afraid.

He could fix that.

He hadn’t said a word for a moment.

The burning feeling of your skin returned, and you let out another drawn out noise of distress.

He shushed you. “One final question.”

You shook your head.

Your hands were trembling, fingers weakly pressing to your temples to rid the pounding that made your stomach churn. Your vision was swamped in swirls and patterns of colours you couldn’t put a name to.

His face, too, warped into something evil.

This wasn’t the man whose knuckles you’d kissed, whose wings gently fluttered against your skin, who’d plucked a small feather from them and handed it to you as a symbol of his devotion.

His halo dimmed for a moment.

You felt his lips brush against your ear and the tickle of a feather.

“Do you still love me?”

[shotmrmiller]

Mistress.

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB!Reader

TW: femdom! reader, slight degradation?, complete and utter submission, masturbation

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a hulking giant of a man, a solid figure of authority on base and the reaper itself on the field, passing through the enemy like smoke, taking their lives with him— had a big secret. To find out, even by chance, is a death sentence.

Simon on leave always went home to an empty flat. He just doesn't have the time to meet anyone, and he figures no one would want to have a relationship with someone who leaves for months on end and with little to no communication. But that didn't mean he did not want someone to spoil. Shower them with gifts and the money he accumulated over years of serving because he never had any time to spend it on anything other than basic necessities.

So once he was home, he indulged in his secret. His Mistress. You.

Sending £800 to your bank account, he sent a text.

'I'm home, Mistress.'

A reply, minutes later.

'You paid your tribute. I'll indulge you just this once, but you ought to remember we work on my schedule, not yours.'

'Of course, my Mistress. I humbly apologize.'

'I will be there in 30. You will not make me wait at the door.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

The Lieutenant was always overlooking something or someone on base, so you were perfect for him. You demanded complete control, and if not given, you took it regardless— and nothing was sweeter than having such a large man submit to you and only you.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You arrived outside his door, and without knocking just said, 'Simon.'

The front door was opened almost immediately, and you were greeted with Simon on his knees — you'll never get over how delicious he looks submitting to you even though he's so tall his head reaches your hipbones and you're in heels — with a collar already on his neck and the leash's handle on his raised palm. You step inside and watch him close the door.

'Good boy,' you murmur as you take the handle, 'Look at me.'

He lifts his head as you look down at him and you see his blue eyes soften at your outfit— which you'll never admit you purposefully put on, knowing it's his favorite based on past meetings.

You're wearing a pink latex corset dress with the laces tied tight on the entire back of the dress and the length of the dress reaches your upper thigh. For stockings, you have petal pink, sheer stay-ups, and your shoes are 'So Kate' 120mm in the same rosy color— and to finish the look, you've got on a long, black a-line wool coat that you're currently taking off and putting on the coat hanger by the front door.

Leash in hand, you walk towards the leather couch, hearing Simon's jeans dragging on his carpet as he crawls behind you before you turn and sit, crossing your legs.

"Permission to take your heels off, Goddess."

"Permission granted. You know what to do."

He takes your dainty foot in both his hands and presses his lips on your ankle, before moving on to the bridge of your foot. Squeezing the counter of your heel, he pulls it, and your toes slip from the shoebox— he gives a pathetic moan at the sight of your stocking-covered, white nail-polished toes.

Removing your other heel, he grabs both of your feet and places them flat on the floor before, still kneeling, he lowers his head to worship you, peppering kisses anywhere he can put his lips on.

You extend your toes and press them to his forehead, pushing him back up and away from you.

"That's enough."

He immediately kneels back on his haunches, and you look at his face to take in his body language. Pupils so large his iris is a thin blue ring, cheeks red and blotchy, mouth slightly agape as he let out shuddering wispy breaths.

Yanking on his collar, you open your legs and pull him to slot in between them. How his torso blankets your entire body makes your toes curl— and that he's still in a submissive pose and still massive makes your walls clench.

Simon, biting his lower lip, lets out a loud groan— gripping the side of the sofa cushions by your knees as his eyes gaze directly to the apex of your thighs. Right to your unclothed quim. Simon is the only sub that's ever seen you in any state of undress. He's the only one you'd fuck straight into his mattress if he begged, and he never looked so good than when he's begging you for attention.

You entangle your fingers into his ash-brown hair and pull, hard, to make eye contact and say, 'The next time you stare at anything other than my eyes without my explicit permission and I walk. I'll drain your bank account of every single pound and you'll thank me for it before I cut off all contact. This is your first and last warning."

Simon whimpers a pitiful little noise before jerking his head in an aggressive nod.

"Yes, my mistress."

You yank on his hair hard enough to wiggle his head a little and loudly say,

"Yes, my mistress what???"

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing, and proclaims, " Yes, my mistress. I am wholly unworthy of your beautiful gift. I deserve absolutely nothing from you."

Biting your lip, you let go of his hair and drag it down towards his jaw to softly cup his cheek.

In a faint, caressing voice you say, "Good boy. Staying in your place is easy once you're reminded of it."

You recline back, shift your eyes down to the monstrous bulge in Simon's pants before pressing your whole foot against his erection— noticing how there's still about 3 inches that your foot doesn't cover, jesus christ—

"What's this, then?", and you push your foot harder into him, and Simon gives a low moan, from deep in his chest— and he lowers his head, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open.

"Well? I asked a question and I did say it in english."

Simon raises his head and his eyes are glossy, scar across the corner of his upper lip whitening with how he thins them before answering.

"Oh, my Mistress, my Queen. I'm just so happy you're here, giving me your complete attention," and in a quieter, vulnerable tone says, "I missed this. Missed you."

That has your heart pounding against your rib cage. You clench your jaw— you cannot show Simon how exhilarated those words make you. You've been harboring the tiniest crush on Simon, and how could you not? Look at him. 6 foot 4, 320 pounds and he submits so beautifully. You'd ruin him. And with the small feel you've gotten from his cock, he'd definitely ruin you. But not now. Simon deserves a reward for being so good and obedient.

"Go on, pet. Show me how much you've really missed me. For you, I'll permit your release." Only for you.

Hands flying to his zipper, he takes his thick, long length out— what a fucking cock it was too, you can't wait to get your hands on it— he starts stroking it, skin bunching up at the flared head on the upstroke and Simon presses his thumb down on his slit. He lets out a hiss as he starts smearing the pre-come around the head and then smooths out the skin on the way down.

Your arm is stretched out holding your weight as you lean to the side, head tilted and you flick your eyes to Simon's face and you startle— Simon's holding direct eye contact, tongue wetting his bottom lip and you can feel heat radiating from your cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

You don't look away though. You stare right into his eyes as the room starts to fill with faster paced, wet, skin slapping noises— and Simon's eyes roll to the back of his head as his eyes close and you look back down to his cock, so hard, swollen red and slippery with his pre-come.

You can hear his teeth grinding together, shoulders stiffening and tattooed forearm vascular with how tight he's squeezing his cock and he chokes out, "Please, Mistress. Let me come, let me come, I'm so close—god"

" Come for your Mistress, Simon. Be a good boy and come for me."

Simon moans loud as his back bows forward and he encircles your ankle with his hand to stabilize himself as his length spurts rope after rope of thick cum inches from your toes— continuously stroking himself through the aftershocks and into oversensitivity.

He puts both palms flat on the floor as he gulps in big shaky breaths, arms trembling slightly. You stand up, carefully stepping around his come, and slip into your heels. Simon raises his head to look at you and— look at that simple, empty expression. You want to sit on that face 'til he repeatedly taps your thick thigh, begging for air— and tell him to clean up his mess. You put on your jacket, close it with the belt and leave.

Your pocket vibrates with a text, and tap the screen to read the text.

Simon: I beg you, my Angel. Let me look at your beautiful pussy as I come, next time.

You: You know what to do.

And then a notification from your bank.

Simon Riley has deposited £4000.

Pressing your phone screen to your chin as hold in a squeal, you cannot wait to get your hands on him.

'Only ever for you.'

A/N: i'd give all the cod boys the gawk gawk without question. at the same time. and valeria can sit on my face til i stop breathing.

[byuntrash101]

first flight to hongkong

sub!reader x dom!ot8ateez (yes, of all of them. yes, all at the same time)

smut | nsfw | mdni

18.3k (so much filth and im not even sorry)

yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips

nsfw tags under the cut

this tag list is looong so grab a seat sweetie...idol!au, a tad of plot, ateez’ love language is gift giving (yes it’s relevant), kink negotiation, color system safe words, flight attendant & sex worker!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle, some are meanies depends on the member. hwa is both lol) gangbang, sir kink, impact play (spanking, kitty & face slapping), pain play, nipple play, use of toys, unprotected but safe sex (birth control + tested) (we love to see it), fingering (f), squirting, dacryphilia, orgasm control (f), overstim, slight corruption kink (they enjoy ruining you idk if it counts), very light foot fetish (yunho (pun intended) who this is about), marking, oral (f & m), deepthroat, praising, degradation (slut, whore), pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, good girl, doll, kitten, each of them kinda uses the pet name they like), anal, double penetration, mingi is big, yunho is bigger, so much praising, lowkey voyeurism/exhibitiosnim, brief mxm (woo jerks off san. ofc it had to be woosan), facial, manhandling, !!!!optional!!!! watersports (this post is the no watersports version. if u want the kinky version click here ♡).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN'T ENJOY.

a/n: this is an idol!au and it's taking place right after the break the wall show in paris. so hongjoong isn't blueberry yet (he's blonde) and mingi is pinkgi because i wanted him to be (even though the pink had faded completely by then). that being said im super duper excited to finally publish this. it's been such a journey for me please overlook any typos or mistakes and i really wanted every single member to get the spotlight and that's how you end up with 18k... but i garantee whoever your bias you'll see him in this. i hope you enjoy <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

You check yourself one last time in the bathroom mirror of your Parisian hotel room. Normally your employer always booked you the smallest, cheapest hotels. But this time you have a beautiful room with a magnificent view on the busy Parisian and picturesque streets. You can even see the Eiffel Tower pierce the sky in the horizon line. 

You sigh as you look at your untouched croissant and coffee, they turned cold a long time ago. You lay a hand on your knotted stomach, you are not hungry. You are stressed. Actually, no. Stressed is an understatement. You are a nervous wreck. 

You fight the urge to bring your fingers to your mouth to bite your perfectly manicured nails, that were painted with a light coat of pinkish nude nail polish and instead tuck in a loose strand of hair back in your impeccably sleek low bun. The last touch up to make the rest of the look absolutely perfect. 

To go along with nude nails, you have light makeup focusing mainly on skin. High end foundation giving you the airbrush look paired with a peachy blush that complimented your skin tone nicely. Some very subtle contouring on your cheeks and jawline and highlighting on the bridge of the nose and above the cheekbones. And to finish it off mascara that elegantly elongated your lashes and underlined your gaze.

Before you slipped on the navy blue uniform over the beautiful white lace Balmain lingerie set. You sprayed a light touch of Banglore by Carven on to your chest, wrists, behind both ears and a touch on the crown of your head. The scent was very unique unlike any women's perfume you tried before. It was a contrasted scent of sandalwood and amber with a touch of vanilla that lingered to soothe the warm spices. It was balanced and elegant.

Regarding the lingerie, the luxurious white set fit you so well that it looked sewed onto your skin. The bra lifted your breasts and the panties sat very high on your waistline making your bottom rounder. 

You slipped on the light blue blouse and the navy skirt under a fitted blazer that matched the skirt. You also wore white thigh high tights. Yves Saint Laurent sleek black stiletto pumps. The shoes gave an elegant arch to your feet which was worth the discomfort. And last but not least the signature flight attendant beret, that had your company’s logo embroidered onto the side that read “Air France”.

You added to the look a very fine and discreet 24k gold chain around your neck and tahitian pearl earrings. 

And that was the completed look. At least this part of the request you could fulfill.

Because, yes, every single detail about your look today was requested and revised by your client. The jewelry, the lingerie, the perfume, the make up, the nails, the shoes. Everything was hand picked by him for you. 

It was your very first time attending the VIPs. Never in a million years you thought you would get there in your career but the rumor was that when the client was handed out the photos of the VIP attendants he requested to have the info of all the attendants the company employed and out if the hundreds of women he saw he picked you. So how could you not be stressed? This man (that was probably very influential) had set the bar really high and you on the other hand didn't have any past experiences to even wrap your mind around what was "setting the bar high" in this context. You were a total noob and you felt (you were) under prepared to cater the very specific needs of the VIPs. 

But after all, the company only offered the position to you. They never forced your hand. You could have said no. But the compensation that came with it was alluring to say the least. That added to the luxurious setting of it all. Getting to mingle with the rich and famous… even in that way… it tipped the balance towards the yes, to the detriment of your morals. But maybe you should have said no…

In the taxi from the hotel to the airport you couldn't enjoy the beautiful scenery of the maze of narrow and paved streets. You were too busy fidgeting with your perfectly manicured hands and trying vainly to swallow the lump inside your throat. 

You thanked the taxi driver and walked mechanically to the terminal, slaloming between the businessmen in between two flights and the lost tourists absentmindedly walking with their noses up and squinted eyes looking for directions.

When your feet hit the tarmacked runway making your heels click against it, you finally saw the aircraft away. It was unlike anything you worked with before. You were used to the huge boeings with the multiple rows and the numerous portholes but this one was a jet. The nose of the plane was narrow and contoured, the body of it was smaller but you could already tell from a distance, far more lavish.

You took a couple of deep breaths on the windy departure runaway to try to calm down. As you were climbing the steps that led to the jet you felt like your knees were about to give out. Thankfully your legs successfully carried you all the way to the clean and luxurious habitacle. 

Talking of luxury, you had never seen such a display of wealth before. Each individual booth was lined with immaculate white leather and stuffed with soft and cushiony material. You could only imagine how comfortable the seat was. Every single detail was impeccable. 

In front of the seat there was a bench where the attendants were meant to sit to wait for the customer requests.

"Hi" The pilot standing in the cockpit greets you. The sudden sound makes you jump. You muster a timid “hey” as a response. 

"Are you ready for the big leap?" He asks, wearing a warm, reassuring smile. 

"No, but I don't think I have enough time in this life to ever prepare for this so..." your words trail off into an awkward laugh. The pilot gently pats your shoulder. 

"Don't worry kiddo if there's anything wrong we're right here." 

"Thanks" 

"The info sheet is over there" he pointed at the small  closed off space, reserved for the attendants right between the VIP seating area and the cockpit. 

"Ready for the checklist, captain?" You heard the voice of the co-pilot ask from the cockpit.

"You'll be alright" he gave you a last confident nod before closing the door. 

And you find yourself completely alone. The space suddenly feels huge. You feel like you will never be able to fill it on your own. Maybe you bit off more than you could chew by accepting this? 

You shake your head to chase the doubts away. You should at least check the info sheet before panicking, you figure. 

You extend your hand to take the note sitting on a small counter next to a locker and a bench. 

On the paper you find your name, your company registration number and your photo. So far so good but it's nothing new. 

You read various info about the flight. Departure: Paris Charles de Gaulle. Arrival: International Airport of Hong Kong. The model of the jet and other details about the time of take off and landing. Still. There's not a single new piece of information to be found.

Then finally you reach the critical part. 

Client name : Ateez. 

You cock one eyebrow in surprise. That's an unusual name for a person. But somehow it sounds familiar…

There’s more information under “safe practices”: the client marked his wish for the service to be performed without physical barriers. All parties involved have been tested. 

You knew that too after the long hours you spent at the hospital yesterday. But the client paid extra just to be able to not use a condom. Fortunately you were already on birth control.

When your eyes glaze over the next title your heart loops inside your chest.

Service request. 

Under this you find a very detailed box list of various practices and... preferences. Many of which you'd have to Google to understand. Ranging from foot fetish to dacryphilia (one of those you had to look up). You didn't even know so many kinks even existed. But as much as you squint none of the boxes were checked. The list is entirely blank except for a hand written comment under "other". 

“To be discussed with the hostess.”

The hostess... that's you. 

The cryptic comment makes you somehow even more nervous. There's not a single piece of useful information on this whole entire form! The experience is already nerve wracking and the fact that the company is letting you figure this one out on your own is making matters much worse. You can’t prepare yourself without any information! 

Well… there’s the name at least, you reasoned with your irrational self. You scramble for your phone from your small purse and type the name in the url bar. 

You should have known not having to type the complete name for it to appear in the research suggestions was a bad sign. 

Thousands of found pages popped up on the small screen. The first one you open is your most reliable source: Wikipedia. 

Ateez (Korean: 에이티즈) is a South Korean boy band formed by KQ Entertainment. The group consists of eight members: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. They debuted on October 24, 2018, with the extended play (EP) Treasure EP.1: All to Zero.

Wait… eight members...... your client is a GROUP of eight men?!?!?!? You click on the royalty free picture provided by the website. Somehow the 8 faces look familiar though you are sure you didn't know about them before today. 

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Your vision starts to get blurry as panic wins over you. Infecting your body via the poisonous adrenaline the frantic organ pumps into each of your limbs. You stumble to sit on the small bench.

You knew the said client was filthy rich. Only the 1% can afford to request such a service from your company but you expected a politician or a silicon valley CEO... not actual celebrities. The kind that sells out arenas and stadiums, the kind that you see on billboards and that make the front pages of magazines.

Then the realization hits you like a train. You did see them before! You attended their flight from Copenhagen to Paris a couple of days ago. That also coincides with when the company proposed this promotion to you... You remember now but they wore masks you didn't get to see their faces properly and the company flies tons of influential people all year round. To you they were just the first class passengers and you took care of them like you would have with any other client. Yes they looked famous but you just didn't check... 

Now there was a difference between bringing them coffee and a hot towel and doing... whatever they were expecting you to do... which you still didn't have the slightest clue about. 

Now you are sure. You did bit off more than you could chew. 

You want to call off the deal. You should just call HR and just tell them to get somebody else on this one. Yes! Yes! You'll do that. There are plenty of other attendants that'd kill to be here so they'll find someone else no problem. 

Right as your thumb is hovering over the number of the HR department you hear rumbles and voices in the tunnel linking the terminal and the aircraft...

Looks like it's too late. 

You act in sole instinct and get up hurriedly, flatten your skirt and head with big strides to stand at the entrance of the plane like you would with any other flight. 

It's okay y/n. You'll be okay. You're always okay. This is just another flight. You've got this. 

You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. The silent prayer calms you down. You pull on your skirt and readjust your blazer, put on your best smile before you see the first shoe peeking up from the elbow of the tube. Followed by a colony of others. Sixteen to be exact, sixteen individual shoes. Yes... Eight. Eight men. 

It's game time. 

One by one the group boards the plane. You professionally greet all of them like you have with any client before. Politely smiling and bowing your head like you did thousands of times. All of them return the polite bow and despite their disguises you see some of them crease their eyes, letting you guess the smile curling up their lips under the masks, the beanies and the bucket hats concealing their faces. 

See? So far so good. You got this. One baby step at a time. 

Over the next few minutes you are able to calm down. You feel completely in control. You install the clients one by one in the separate and spacious seats. You make the final check of the luggage above the seats. Close up all the lockers and check that every passenger has fastened their seat belts correctly. You explain the safety procedures in case of an emergency. Then finally sit in your own seat, the little bench facing the VIPs while the pilot makes his announcement. When the plane accelerates to take off you are back into normality. Your heart has stopped racing and your hands are not clammy or shaking anymore. You no longer feel the need to nervously pull on your nails. 

You are in control. You got this. 

When the “seatbelts on” sign turns off you get up. 

"You may now unfasten your seatbelts if you please." You announced for all of them. And they all did. You saw them taking their jackets and beanies off, getting comfortable as you disappeared in the attending compartment to prepare the refreshments. When you pulled out the small tray they were all seated and had shed the clothes that were hiding their faces.

With each stop you make to pour the beverages you are astonished by their beauty, each member being more beautiful than the last one. You felt your heart flutter more than once when some of them thanked you for your service with a warm smile.

But as everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You can do it as you would discuss any other subject, you tell yourself as a small pep talk. Just have to stay professional. 

You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab on a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 

"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 

"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 

You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 

"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" another one questioned when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 

The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 

"I don't know, the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, Maybe picking up on the agitation showing through your micro habits. 

"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, giving you a clue on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 

At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made you guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 

"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 

"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much so that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 

"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.

"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 

"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 

You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 

"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes, very high cheekbones and a smile that could light up the darkest night, he gave off that aura of a shining star.

"Y-yes" 

So much for not stuttering... 

A murmur of approval collectively emerged from them. 

"And degradation and humiliation?" A deep voice asked, you looked over at the direction of the owner of said voice to find a pastel pink haired man looking right at you. He had sharp features, piercing eyes and a strong brow bone. When you looked at him puzzled he elaborated. "Let's say I want to call you my little slut, my personal little cock sleeve. Or make you bark before I let you cum. How would that sound to you?" 

You gulped as your mind instantly took you to the scenery. Your imagination sending you flashing images of sinful engagements between you and the group of men. Your guts stirred once again. You nodded and threw a glance at the previous man before quickly adding a shy yes (but still audible). Once again they emitted a quiet rumble of appreciation. 

You couldn't believe all the things that you were agreeing to. Sure you had some experience in sub and dom dynamics. Usually you liked to be guided and you let your partner take the lead. And of course you had a couple of light spanks before but that was about it. And the most surprising thing for you was that all of that sounded exciting. Everything sounded appealing to you. Everytime they asked you a question it stirred your stomach in a brand new way. 

"What about knife play?" Hongjoong asked. 

"No, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that one." You replied, almost apologetically. 

"Same for blood play?" He continued and you shook your head. 

"Yes, I don't think I'd enjoy that." 

"Spit play?" You shook your head again. 

"Well I think we covered everything. Guys?" They all agreed with their leader. "Also I see you got the little gifts we got for you" Hongjoong’s gaze slides down your frame to land on the white lace of the thigh high tights that was peeking under your skirt. The way his expression changed when he spotted the article made you swallow thickly. 

"I picked the lingerie set. White is your color, doll" 

You chuckled lightly at the compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Thank you" you smiled. 

"Yunho, what do you think of the heels?" He asked, turning over to the tall man. 

"Fit you like a glove. You look stunning in those” Yunho replied, giving you a warm smile. The comment made you nervously dangle your feet, which made his eyes instantly drop back to them.

"Wooyoung and Yeosang both decided on the nail color and the make up" both of them nodded in your direction at the mention of their names. 

"This red lip is beautiful on you" Wooyoung complimented while Yeosang stayed silent, only amicably smiling at you. 

"The jewelry is from Mingi" Hongjoong continued as the pink haired man raised his large palm up in the air. 

"The gray pearls really suit your skin tone and the gold chain compliments your neck line. I knew it was the right choice" Mingi's deep voice answered. 

"And Seonghwa is our perfume connoisseur" Hongjoong pointed at the man seated next to him. 

"The fragrance was an easy pick. Elegant and sophisticated, exactly like you" the astonishingly beautiful man shot a wink in your direction. Such a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was completely uncalled for.

"San and Jongho came on the flight with their gifts." The man named San lifted a luxurious looking glossed paper bag. 

You got up straightened your skirt and retrieved it from him then Jongho seated next to him handed you a small case. 

"We’re going to give you time to open those too" Hongjoong said. "This flight is long. We'll have plenty of time to play together. In the meantime, we are going to get some sleep and rest from our tour. Our CEO thought we did so well at our show in Paris he personally booked this service with your company." 

"Thank you for trusting and choosing Air France" you bowed your head respectfully. 

"Oh no, doll. It's not about them it’s about you, y/n" your heart almost stopped at the mention of your name. "'When you attended our flight from Denmark to France you were absolutely perfect and we all collectively thought you would be the best candidate for the extra VIP service. So we were a little disappointed when the company said you weren't part of the VIP crew. But we insisted they at least ask you if that would be interesting for you and we were thrilled to know that you agreed." Hongjoong smiled at you so fondly. Almost like the previous conversation never happened altogether and the VIP service was nothing more than some extra room for your legs in the seat and maybe a wider range of refined liquor to choose from. 

"So we understand it's your first time doing this, right?" San asked. 

"Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes it is" you said a lot more confidently this time. 

"Don't worry it's also our first time" the man grinned, cat-like eyes turning into little crescents as the smile spread on his face. 

"That's exactly why I'll be conducting the meeting" Hongjoong declared, making you peel your eyes off San to look at him. "From now on, you will refer to me only as sir. I know it won't be a problem to you as you used the title a couple of times in the conversation already. But still, do you understand me?" Last sentence was a lot more stern. 

"Yes, sir" you nodded firmly to emphasize your words, making him grin.

“The others are not as strict on the title. You may call them however you’d like. But I only tolerate that you refer to me correctly. Understood?”

“Yes, sir”

"Good girl" he smiled again but this time it was somehow not as wholesome and you took in a slow shaky breath to attempt to calm your heart that was hammering against your ribs. 

"During the rendezvous I'll be checking on you to see if everything is good with you. We'll use the color system." You nodded, listening attentively. "If everything is going well and you are enjoying your time with us when I ask you for your color you will say green." You nodded again. "If things are getting intense and you are approaching your limit you will say orange. At the word we won't stop but we will take it down a notch allowing you to breathe until your color is back on green and you feel comfortable again. If you are overwhelmed or if one of us does or says anything that makes you want to stop everything just say red and we will all stop. Right, doll?" 

"Yes sir" 

"I want you to know that you have full control over this. Under no circumstances you have to wait for me to ask for your color to share it with us. As soon as you feel that things are getting out of hand, say orange or red, okay ?" 

"Understood, sir" 

"Well then. Why don't you take this time to go open San and Jongho's presents while we take a little well deserved nap" 

"Yes, sir" you politely bowed and took your leave in the small reserved space for the attendants between the cabin and the cockpit. 

As soon as you close the door you let the stress of the conversation out with a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door and letting your head rest on it, the cold feeling on your heated skin keeping you in touch with reality as everything seemed so surreal. 

That was a lot to take in but somehow you didn't feel as nervous as you did before. Sure, there are eight of them. Sure, the conversation promised they intended to thoroughly... enjoy... the service but you feel like they value your safety and your comfort. You have a better understanding of the task at hand and no matter how complex and draining said task was going to be, knowing the boundaries of it was reassuring. You knew what they wanted from you. 

After a couple of minutes you used to ground yourself back down to earth (ironic isn't it?) You laid the paper bag and the case on the small bench. 

You undid the nice black velvet bow that was tying the bag together and took out what looked like a neatly folded uniform. But upon closer examination something looked off with the fabric. You unfolded the blouse. It was an exact replica of the light blue one you were wearing right now except it was made from fine mesh making it completely see through. You laid the article on the bench and unfolded the skirt. The length was ridiculously short and you know you'll have to walk up straight if you don't want your bum to be showing. But you guess it's the exact purpose of it. When you flip it too look at the back you know for a fact that the skirt was designed with the idea of exposing you in mind. You realized the navy blue cotton has two holes cut out to let both of your butt cheeks hang out of them. 

You lay the shirt next to the blouse. Deciding that this gift is a little intense and you'll get back to that one. 

You hand glazes over the case Jongho brought and you flip the attachments to open it. When you lift the lid you are greeted with a collection of different toys. All more colorful than the previous one. There's everything you could imagine. And more that you would actually need. You find a note that read “wear me” taped to a strangely shaped one. 

You grab the purple silicon toy and unfold the note. 

A remote control had been handed to each member. Please wear this one. For the other ones they're all yours pick the ones you like. 

You are hesitant for a second but this was exactly what you signed up for and it was our duty to fulfill the client’s wish. So you breathed in a deep slow and steady breath before carefully  slipping off your clothes. You were vigilant enough not to smudge your makeup and pull the wispy hair out of your sleek bun. You pull down the white thong just low enough on your thighs to be able to put the toy in. 

You almost gasp when you spot the wet patch on the lace, making the fabric slightly transparent. It's subtle but you can't believe you got this… excited from this simple conversation. Simply imagining the propositions they were presenting to you. 

You push the cylindrical part of the toy inside, biting your lip to repress a moan as the silicon easily glides inside you. The rest of the toy hangs out and lays over your clit. You swiftly pull the thong back up. At first you feel strange from this foreign object nested inside you but soon you grow accustomed to it. 

From the rest of the panoply of toys you picked out a simple decently sized metal plug that had a heart shaped pink gem stone at the end. You figured the rest of the ensemble will certainly look gaudy enough and you chose to disregard the various gag balls and nipple clamps. 

You put on the new uniform even going as far as to pin your name tag to the see through blouse. 

And the look is complete. The skirt is so small that it barely reaches the crease of your bum. Not that it makes a difference since the two holes leave little to the imagination. The lace of the thigh high tights are on full display and the same applies to the white lace bra underneath the see-through blouse. 

Saying you feel exposed is an understatement but still. You were almost at the two hour mark on this flight. You figure that the easiest way to deal with the embarrassment is to just plainly and simply ignore it. Go out there and work just as usual. And it's time to prepare the tray of refreshments. 

You step out of the attendant room to walk the central aisle to the back of the jet where the fridges and the carts are. You can't help but to feel a little relieved when you see the eight men wearing their eye masks. Maybe they aren't all sleeping but they are at least not seeing you like this, at least not right now. It buys you some time to get used to your new attire.

You prepare the various alcoholic beverages, the cold sodas and the hot tea and coffee before you take a deep breath. And push the cart in. There's only one member that the rattling of the cart seemed to have woken up, Seonghwa. 

With trembling hands you push the cart down the aisle to his level. 

"Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, liquor?" You manage to ask in the most natural way possible. Careful to speak at an appropriate volume level to not disturb the others. 

"Coffee. Black, please" the handsome man replies. 

You take a cup and pour some scolding hot coffee for him. Your tensed hands around the cup betray your edge as you hand out the beverage, the dark liquid swaying in its recipient. But Seonghwa gently wraps both his warm hands around yours and around the cup. 

"Thank you. It's perfect" he gently whispers, looking at you with a reassuring, beaming smile that you return instantly. 

You push the tray back in, as it seems no one else is interested in a drink. When you go back to your seat that faces the members the help indicator lights up above one of the seats. 

"Sir, may I help you with anything." You asked San. 

"No" he whispered, careful not to wake up Jongho  sleeping between both of you since he was in the window seat. "I just wanted to say you look absolutely stunning. You wear the uniform beautifully" he held out something to you. When you opened your palm it was two shriveled bills of five hundred euros. You almost audibly gasped. Before you could say thank you he continued "I can't wait to peel it off of you later". You feel your knees getting weaker as San’s gaze gets sharper. You don't know how you manage to keep your composer as well as you do.

"Of course. Whenever you are ready, sir" you replied, as you felt your insides flutter under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Let's let them sleep a little first, kitten" you bit your lip at the pet name and you smiled back at him before going back to your seat to catch a breather. 

For the next two hours. The flight is absolutely uneventful and feels like any other day on the job. You even have enough time to forget about the skimpy (to say the least) skirt, the see through blouse and the lace. And even about the toy still inside you. 

You go back and forth between the aisles fetching drinks, small pillows and snacks fulfilling one typical and ordinary request after the other. This feels so routinely that you find yourself feeling a little... disappointed. 

What you didn't notice is how one by one the members emerged from their slumbers. You didn't notice that as the number of requests increased their usefulness decreased as their main purpose was to watch you walk up and down the aisle to see your breasts jiggle under the see-through blouse or your ass roll in the conveniently placed holes of your skirt.

And as you were closing the compartment above Jongho’s head, you lifted both of your arms up which caused your skirt to rile up your hips. Letting the lacey underwear peep from underneath it. That’s when Jongho spotted the purple color seeping through the white of the lace. That encouraged him to take out his remote.

The vibrations took you by surprise and you let one small quiet moan slip off your tongue. Immediately pressing your traitorous lips into a thin line. You crease your brows trying to reach the handle to finally close the compartment, trying not to focus on the low vibrations coming from the deepest part of you. 

Jongho can't help but to smirk when he hears the low rumble coming from the toy that is only inches from his face. 

You stagger back to your seat only for the help light to go off again. This time you walk over to Wooyoung. 

"Yes" you take a shaky breath. "May I….ngh…help you with anything?" 

"Yes, my armrest appears to be stuck. I can't seem to pull it down" he says, smirking. 

"There's a small lever on your right you have to pull it to be able to push the armrest down" 

"I tried but I can't make it work. Could you give it a try?" 

There was no way you could reach that far unless you laid over Yeosang's lap to reach Wooyoung’s window seat. One second look at the former and you realized that was exactly what they wanted. So you crouched down and laid on him, your stomach down. Your butt was on his lap while your face was on Wooyoung's thighs. You extended your hand and finally were able to push on the lever but suddenly the vibrations got more intense. You tensed up your back trying not to moan at the new pleasure you felt. 

But you still managed to push on the armrest down. 

"There you go, sir" you replied out of breath. 

"Thank you, baby" Wooyoung said as he pressed his hardening member to your cheek through his trousers, gently caressing the other with his thumb all the while you felt a pair of hands putting to good use the two holes in your skirt. Groping and cupping your ass cheeks. 

You let yourself whine ever so slightly when you spot the purple remote in the large hands of Mingi seated right up front, peeping back at you through the slit between the seats. 

You feel a new vibration coming. This time the setting is changed from the low tiniest vibrations to two short low ones and one long strong one. You can't help but to moan when you see Mingi picking this deadly pace while he smirks back at you through the slit. You feel the familiar build up in your core as Wooyoung rubs himself through his pants on your cheek and Yeosang grabs and massages your ass cheeks. 

You feel your walls dangerously constrict the toy inside you, your flirting with your edge but then the vibrations come to a stop. 

Wooyoung and Yeosang offer a helping hand to get you back on your feet and innocently smile at you. 

"That will be all, thank you, sweetheart" the latter says. Before you nod and go to another customer needing your help: Hongjoong. 

"Sir, may I help you?" 

"What's your color, doll?" The blonde man instantly asks. Still a little dazed you are taken aback by the question. 

"Green, sir" you say as you brought back some loose hair from the bum that was a little roughed up by Wooyoung moments ago. 

"Good" you spot the purple devices in his hand as he switches the toy on once more. At first it’s the same setting Jongho used. The lowest one. This one you could handle but soon Hongjoong’s slender fingers turned the roulette all the way up. 

The feeling is brand new because the source of the pleasure is doubled when you find out the toy can vibrate from two seperate places. You can't help but let out a strangled squeal. The intense setting of the toy instantly skyrockets you to unknown heights. 

"You look unwell, doll. Is everything okay?" Hongjoong asks with a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 

You nod. Heat rushing to your chest and neck. Insufferable pleasure making you weak at the knees. 

"Everything is perfect... mmmh... sir" you manage to say through gritted teeth. You realize the hungry gazes of the group of men are glued to you. Somehow the attention makes the pleasure even more unbearable and you feel like you're going to lose control at any second now. 

Your hands wrap around the headrest of Hongjoong’s seat in an attempt to ground yourself as you feel you are slowly slipping into the abyss. Your heat uncontrollably pulsing around the devilish toy. 

But as soon as you let out a moan that proves to be a little too high pitched. A pitch that betrays your imminent high. Hongjoong's eyes turn into a sadistic glacial gaze and he switches off the device completely. You can't help but to voice out your disappointment with an unpleased whine as you feel yourself pulse into the most infuriating and frustrating ruined orgasm. You look over the blonde man in confusion. 

"Why did you stop, sir?" You ask out of breath, strained voice seeped with desperation.

"Because you were being a bad girl, doll and bad girls don't get rewards." His voice was so stern you couldn't believe he was the same man making sure you were comfortable a second ago. 

"What did I do wrong?" The question sounded a little whiny as your eyes swept over the other men all looking at you with an evil twinkle in the eye. 

Your lost puppy eyes and the sad and desperate little pout made Hongjoong grow bigger in his pants as he was gaining this control over you. He had to fight the urge to immediately palm himself through his pants.

"Were you not about to cum without asking permission first?" you could hear the slightest hint of amusement behind the graveness of his tone.

"I didn't know I h-" 

"Talking back, are we?" You bit your lip, immediately interrupting yourself and looking down at your feet. “I thought you had better manners” Hongjoong said, fainting the disappointment of a strict father.

"I'm sorry, sir" 

"Sorry won't do it with me, doll. Doesn't she deserve punishment. Guys what do you say?" 

All of them nodded and agreed as you let the corner of your mouth fall, heart racing at the mention of the ominous word… Punishment.

"San" 

As soon as the leader called his name San got up and joined you in front of the group. He stepped behind you. 

"Now you'll stay completely still as San performs the punishment. Is this clear?" 

"Crystal clear, sir" you stiffened when you felt the strong hands of the man wrapping around your waist and reach over your stomach. You hold your breath as his fingers busy themselves with your blouse. Unfastening the buttons one by one. He peels the fabric off slowly as you take the sanction as obediently as possible. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you back in Copenhagen'' he whispers quietly, only for you to hear. His warm breath on your skin makes you shiver.

Then he moves to the zipper at the back of the short skirt. The vibration of the zip on your skin makes you shudder as the group of men relishes in seeing you so helpless. 

Soon you are left in only the heels and lingerie set. 

"You did so good baby" the man murmurs before laying a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. 

"On your knees" Hongjoong says and you hastily obliged before he thinks you are being dissident again.

"Now say I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.”

The humiliation and shame makes your cheeks burning hot but still you comply. 

"I-I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.. Sir” you add for good measure.

“Now you’ll crawl to each of us and ask for a spanking. I think 8 spanks is a good start. Right gentlemen?” Once again they collectively agreed.

For a second shame paralyzes you.

“Go ahead, doll. Ask Seonghwa first” you look up at the man.

“Please, sir” you try to swallow a lump.

“Louder, princess” Seonghwa says, taking your chin between his slender fingers, smiling fondly down at his cute little toy.

“P-please Sir” you say louder this time. “Please punish me”

“Of course my princess” he replies in this tender tone. A tone that contrasts with the sharp sound of his palm falling flat on your bottom. You let a small cry slip out your lips as heat rushes to the sensitive patch of skin.

“What do you say, doll?” the blonde man chips in.

“T-Thank you Sir”

You crawled past Hongjoong to Mingi and Yunho’s row.

“Sir please, may I ask you for a spank” you asked Mingi.

The sting that followed had you throwing your head back and suppressing a moan by biting the inside of your cheek. Mingi’s hand was larger and a lot less gentle.

“Thank you” you hiss.

You continue the round, going to one member after the other until both your cheeks feel raw and several hand prints are left visible. You finish with Hongjoong.

“Please Sir, please spank me” you say out of breath, your hazy mind having difficulty putting the words in coherent sentences.

“Color, doll” he says as his hands slips over the sensitive skin, soothing you with gentle caresses.

“Green, sir”

All of a sudden you feel the vibrations deep inside your core again. You can’t help but let out a pleased moan escape your lips. Arching your back letting your head hang down. 

“Oh my g-god” you sigh before biting down on your lip. Hongjoong’s gentle hand wraps around your chin to lift your gaze to his own. His eyes are as dark as can be, an evil grin pulling on his lips.

“You were saying, doll?” he asks with his other hands still drawing soothing circles on your raw ass. “You wanted something from me?” he says, giving you a light squeeze.

You look around and see the other 7 pairs of eyes glued to you. And the sustained gazes and the vibrations send you to flirt with your edge almost instantly. 

“Don’t forget why you’re here, princess” Seonghwa warns you. “You can’t cum before given permission or I fear we will have to do all of that all over again”

“Except I won’t be as nice this time” Hongjoong adds, the gentle hold on your chin becoming a little tighter, blunt nails digging in your cheek. “Ask for your punishment like a good girl and I'll turn it off”

“Please. Please sir! Please spank me”

“Good girl” he says before lifting his palm and letting it fall back against your already sensitive skin. The sharp clap that erupts from the motion sends a spark of electricity straight to your core, lifting goosebumps in its wake.

The pleasurable pain and the tireless vibrations almost had you cumming but with immense resilience and respect for the orders you were given you manage to hold yourself back. 

“Such a good little toy for us, kitten” you hear San praise as the vibrations die down.

When you look back up at Hongjoong you look absolutely fucked out. He smiles at you and rubs soothing circles on your cheek. He can’t help but to feel himself twitch as he sees you look back at him this confused and frustrated. 

“You did really good, doll” Hongjoongs praises “You may rise”

You get up again to walk to the bench. You plop yourself on top of it, barely able to hold yourself on the stiletto heels but at least it’s a relief for your knees.

Suddenly you feel warm and gentle hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up on their lap, when you open your eyes you see it’s Seonghwa.

“You did really good, princess” Seonghwa says as you feel his fingers slip up your back and unclasping your white lace bra. In a split second the lace is off your blazing skin, you feel the air brush against your chest as the other men drink in your form, all eyes roaming this new part of your body revealed to their eyes. You whine softly as you fight the urge to cover yourself, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes just to avoid eye contact with them.

One of Seonghwa’s hands slips over your breasts, massaging the lumps of flesh and teasing your painfully hard nipples while the other one slips around your waist, down your stomach and inside the lace panties. 

You audibly gasp when you feel the toy being pulled out of you, whining at the loss of the fullness of it. You hear the toy bounce off the carpeted floor. 

“You won’t need this anymore now, princess” Seonghwa whispers in your ear before pinching your nipple a little harder. “We’ll take care of you now” You arch your back onto his torso. Immediately he starts rubbing small circles on your swollen clit. You can’t help but moan at the smallest of contact.

“You got so wet for us baby” Yeosang comments, making your eyes snap to him.

“And so sensitive” Jongho adds.

You feel Seonghwa smirk against your ear. Continuing the small and light circles on your clit. Soon you lose patience and start to buck your hips, desperate for friction, desperate for him to apply some pressure. 

“Do you want my fingers, Princess?” Seonghwa asks before planting an open mouth kiss on your neck.

“Yesss, Sir. Yes please” you breathe out, bucking your hips against his hand again. Which makes the older man chuckle against your skin.

“Take these off then, princess” He says, catching the white lace of your thong and letting it slap against your skin. Hurriedly you briefly lift your butt to shimmy out of the lace and let the fabric rest on one of your ankles. When you sit back down you feel your raw ass rub against Seonghwa’s clothed hard on, earning a low grunt from him.

“Spread your legs, Princess” Seonghwa says as he lightly caresses your thigh. 

The whole room held their breath, all of them waiting to finally see you in the simplest of forms, eagerly waiting to open Pandora's box. 

Gathering your courage you did so, very slowly you parted your thighs, feeling the cold air hit your swollen and sopping heat as you completely unveiled yourself for your clients. You spotted from the corner of your eyes Jongho starting to palm himself through his trousers.

“Fuck she’s so wet too” you guessed the deep voice to be the one of Mingi.

“So naughty” Yunho added.

“Good girl '' Seonghwa praised again when you couldn't possibly open your legs wider. He immediately slipped his ring and middle finger inside your heat, the slow and gentle stretch of your sex made you mewl pathetically, jaw falling loose as he curled his fingers right into your sweet spot.

“Oh my g-” the words get caught in your throat when Seonghwa picks up the pace. 

“You’re sucking in his fingers so well, kitten” San commented while he pressed his open hand on his length.

Your moans gradually grow louder and the wet squelching sounds of your dripping center bounce on the walls, Seonghwa composing a sinful symphony on your body. Pumping his fingers inside and out your heat then gliding up your folds to find your clit and dipping back in again.

As time goes by and as you inch closer to your edge you feel no intention in Seonghwa to stop. You know this time you won’t be able to hold back and after being so close so many times to your high. You just want to finally grasp it. You’re so close you can taste it. You just don’t want it to have it snatched away from you again.

“Seonghwa… Please” you breath out, cheeks flushed, nails digging into your palm.

“Please what?” Seonghwa asks, sounding as innocent as can be but the smirk you feel on the shell of your ear tells you the innocence as everything but genuine.

“Please… Aaaha. Can I c-cum?” you finally manage to ask.

“You wanna show everyone how you cum around my fingers?” The sinful choice of words makes your heart hammer against your ribs. But you would do anything for him to finally let you finish. 

“Yes” you breathe out, overlooking the shame, somehow managing to open your legs even wider, letting the plug peek from beneath you, the pink gem twinkling under the dim lighting, determined to let the others have a good look at you.

Your efforts are noticed. You hear a couple of them curse under their breaths while other finally slip their hands inside their pants. But most importantly your resilience makes Seonghwa agree to let you cum.

“Go ahead, Princess. Make a big mess on my fingers.”

You don't need more, you just let yourself slip as soon as you hear the magic words. Your mind slips into a haze as you throw your head back, letting it roll on Seonghwa’s shoulders. You clench around the man’s long fingers, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him, refusing to ever let go of them. Your legs shaking as you let a long string of moans escape your lips.

The group of men admiring how your pussy opens and closes around their friend’s fingers, some grunting as they press a little harder on their painfully hard cocks. 

When Seonghwa rips his fingers out of your orgasming heat your cum just sprays out of your in streams, soaking the carpet beneath your feet. 

Finally as the stream dies down you’re able to come down from your high.

“Goog girl” Seonghwa praises as he brings his cum covered digits to your mouth. You immediately, out of instinct, your mind still in a complete haze, welcome the long fingers inside your mouth. Eagerly sucking and licking, your taste taking over your mouth and rolling on your tongue. 

Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your thighs. When you look you see Yunho letting his big palms glide from your thighs to your calf and to your feet. He brings your foot to his face, one hand under your calf and the other wrapped around the heel while he kisses your ankles, going down on your feet, he slips his tongue out, licking the black leather of the pump. Before taking them off.

“How do you taste, princess?” Seonghwa asks when he sees you distracted by Yunho. 

“Delicious, sir” you replied, still not taking your eyes off the tall man kneeling between your legs.

“Let me have a taste.” Seonghwa says before crashing his lips on yours, you share your cum with him as he pushes his tongue past your lips, eager to discover your flavor. 

He breathes heavily as he keeps kissing you. You feel Yunho peel off one of the tights to give kitten licks to your toes. 

The novel feeling has you moaning into Seonghwa’s mouth. He sucks on your toes before trailing up your thigh. Leaving blue and purple marks as he progresses up until he reaches your pubic bone. He kisses you everywhere but where you want him the most. You whine into the older one's mouth. Until the taller man finally gives a kitten lick to your clit. You rip your mouth from Seonghwa to look at Yunho between your legs. He doesn't break eye contact as he starts to relish on your taste. Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as your jaw falls open.

“Fuckkk” you swear before sucking your lip between your teeth.

“You like that?” He asks, lips still pressed to your folds.

“Yess! Yesss” you say as you eagerly grind your hips on his tongue, earning a low groan from the man behind you as your ass rubbed on his harder than ever cock. The raging hard on threatening to rip through the pants at any moment.

“What a greedy little whore” Mingi says as he gets up to come closer to the scene. Soon all of them follow and you find yourself surrounded by all 8 men looking down at you, hands either under or over their pants, playing with their cocks as they didn’t peel their eyes off you for a second. 

Seeing all of them around you, their hungry gaze fixed on you makes you even more eager, and you find yourself grinding even faster on Yunho’s tongue, letting sighs and pleading cries roll off your tongue.

“You just came, doll” Hongjoong started. “And you’re already so eager to cum again?” his warm hand slipped between your breast to go up you throat, lightly squeezing, just enough to make it threatening, making your eyes snap to him. “You’re so naughty”.

While you were distracted by Hongjoong you didn't notice from the corner of your eye Wooyoung taking his pants off and pumping his length in his clenched fist. Swiping his tongue on his bottom lips watching you fuck yourself out on Yunho’s mouth while Seonghwa groaned behind you and bit your neck. 

It’s only when you felt the hot tip against your cheek that you turned your head to him. When you look up at him the devilish grin that he adorns makes your inside flutter, your eager cunt twitching on Yunho’s tongue.

“Open wide for me, baby, okay?” Wooyoung’s raspy voice asked as he laid his leaking tip right on your lips. As soon as the tip of your tongue makes contact with his slit you give it a kitten lick. The salty taste goes straight to your head and makes you dizzy. You open your mouth a little wider and Wooyoung slowly pushes his length inside you. You can’t help but to moan as you feel the smooth skin gliding so easily on your wet tongue. Letting your eyes roll back as you feel your lips stretch to accommodate this fullness in your mouth while Yunho slows down his rhythm, allowing you just enough lucidity to be able to concentrate on your new found mission. 

Wooyoung continues to progress until he bottoms out. And you hollow your cheeks to pull your head back on his length just to push back in. You start out slow, making sure to lube him up with your spit. And Wooyoung sighs at the pleasurable way your tongue swirls around his tip every time he hangs on your lips, letting his head roll back, thick veins ornamenting his neck.

As you pick up the pace you feel hands wrap around what was once your bun and push you back down further on Wooyoung’s cock.

“Come on, princess. You can do better than that” you hear Seonghwa purr in your ear. As Wooyoung groans, feeling you go deeper. “You can take him all in. Right Princess?” 

With each coming and going Seonghwa pushes on your head a little harder until, your nose hits Wooyoung’s pubic bone. Seonghwa keeps you right there for a moment as you look up at the younger man with teary eyes.

“Ever since I picked this red lipstick for you I've wanted to see it around my cock. You’re so pretty like this baby.” Wooyoung says as Seonghwa finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and breathe. You suck in a deep breath, fighting back a coughing fit.

“You’re doing so good, Princess. So good for us” Seonghwa praises, already pushing your head back on Wooyoung’s length. You open your mouth once again, pursing your lips, hollowing your cheeks. So good that soon enough Wooyoung lets his head roll back and let a long string of profanities fall from his lips.

“Fuck you’re so good at this, baby. Like you were made to suck cock” he praised, through gritted teeth. “Fuckkk” he cursed again and you felt his cock twitch on your tongue while he suddenly gripped your hair, stopping you from pushing him back inside your wet mouth. “Fuck” he breathes heavily. “I need a break.  Don’t want the fun to end now” he said, pulling his lips in a sinful smirk.

“I’ll take it from here” San said, pulling Wooyoung by the shoulder to take his place. When you are presented with San’s cock you can tell he has been playing with himself for a while, the tip is swollen, beet red and dripping. It is the most mouth watering sight you ever got the chance to witness. Instinctively you open wider and approach your lips but San pulls back before you can wrap your mouth around the alluring member.

“An eager little kitten, aren't we?” the man breathes out while he lazily pumps himself before your round out eyes. “You want my cock this bad ?” he smirks wickedly, looking down on you. You only nod, not peeling your eyes off San’s cock. “You have to properly ask for it before I give it to you” Your eyes snap back to his sharp ones. There’s not a trace of humor in his dark brown orbs, only dark lust burning holes into you.

“Please, sir. Fill my mouth with your cock” you whisper, your warm breath hitting San’s raw dick, making him suck in a breath. 

“Good little kitty” he praises while pressing his cock against your lips, which you part as soon as you feel the hot leaking tip against your mouth, immediately the taste going to your head. Slowly you glide on San’s length as his hands wrap around both your ears, pulling you even further on his cock, grunting all the way down until he reaches the bottom.

“Stay completely still, kitten” he whispers, the sultry tone making you shiver under his unwavering gaze. “Let me fuck that pretty little mouth”

Suddenly you gasp as you feel two long fingers being pushed inside your dripping heat, Yunho, tired of being ignored, wants to get your attention back. And the least you can say is that it’s effective. His digits curl inside you deliciously, able to reach deeper than Seonghwa.

San takes advantage of your sudden gasp to push his length deeper, picking up right where Wooyoung left off. You feel the delicious burn of your throat expanding to accommodate San’s girth. 

Yunho wraps his lips around your clit once more while San pleasures himself with your mouth, strong grip around your head, pulling your head in and pushing it back out again at a rapid pace. The pleasure makes you moan on San’s length, your eyes becoming watery. 

“You like that, babygirl?” you hear Yunho ask you from between your legs. You can’t possibly respond because San doesn't allow a single word to leave your mouth, only muffled sounds of approval.

“Good girl” Yunho praises before returning to tease you. His tongue twirls around your sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 

“You like getting your little cunt stuffed while I fuck your face, kitten?” San asks, breath short, strong forearms contracting around your face. You only moan in approval, trying to nod your head which proves to be impossible due to San’s grip. Only the volume of the pitch of the moans you make, gives away at the state of urgency in which you find yourself.

“You wanna cum?” San asks, somehow grip growing stronger. You moan again, one single tear rolling down your cheek, dragging with it one streak of mascara. “Cum, kitten. Cum for Yunho with my dick down your throat” 

Once again the permission makes you let go of the knot in your guts, the pleasure spreads to you through your core pulsing under Yunho tongue and clenching on his long fingers, deliciously curled right into your sweet spot. Gradually San and Yunho slow down allowing you to ride off your high.

Before you even gather up your thought you feel Seonghwa turn your head to him one more time, slipping his long tongue inside your mouth, the only response your hazy mind can come up with is to moan into his mouth before you feel yourself being lifted up by a couple pair of strong arms, Seonghwa grunting under you.

“Princess, I need you right here” You hear the older man’s deep voice as his gaze points at his dick, now shed from its restraints, standing proud and tall. You step towards him and lift your leg to take him in but he stops you.

“No, princess. Other way around, I want the others to see the beautiful expressions you make with my cock deep inside you” he says as he lightly pushes on your hips, urging you to turn around. When you do and see the others you can’t help but to feel a new wave of arousal. 

You find yourself hovering over Seonghwa while you hold his length in your hand. The whole room seems to hold their breath as you align yourself with him, gathering your arousal, taking your time to spread it on the leaking tip.

“Look how wet you are” Jongho commented. “We haven't even started yet and you already made such a mess”

“S-sorry, sir” you muster and bite your lip immediately after, sinking your hips on Seonghwa as the others all look at the precise place your two bodies meet, fist pumping around the results of their own arousal.

“Fuckkkk” you hear Seonghwa curse in your ear. 

“Enjoying the eldest privilege, hyung?” you hear the low voice of Mingi ask as you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, your body automatically shutting down your other senses to focus solely on the delicious stretch of your walls around Seonghwa’s girth.

“I’m not the only one, am I Princess?” he asks short of breath, his hands tucking behind your ear one of many strands of hair that escaped your once sleek updo. When you fail to provide a satisfactory reply, Seonghwa’s hand drops down to your cunt. 

“Didn't I tell you to…” his hot breath fans your ear, you sigh and let your head fall back on his shoulder as you feel his hand touch you in the place you need him the most only to receive a sharp slap right on your very sensitive bud. The unexpected and acute pain stirs your gut in a brand new way, making you clench around Seonghwa, ripping a low moan from your lips.

“... use your words?” he asks, voice a lot sterner. 

“Yesss” you mewl. “Yesssss” you pant. “Yess, sir” not being able to tell if you crave another slap or if you had just gone completely mad.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks again.

“”Yes, sir. I am”

“So naughty, doll” Hongjoong comments, stepping closer.

“Now princess, work for me a little, okay? Make me feel good.” The eldest places both his hands on your hips making you sink down until he reaches the deepest part of you as you moan, feeling him deliciously splitting you open. “Show them how good you are.”

You start to rise up again, Seonghwa’s hands still on your hips but not helping you in any way, letting you take control over this. Once his tip is barely hanging inside you, you sink down again, this time faster. His lubricated length slides inside you with ease. You moan without restraint at the way his length rubs on the toy in your ass, stirring it around and making the metal push on all the right places. You repeat the motion until you settle in a comfortable rhythm. 

As you behave according to Seonghwa’s order you can't help but let your half lidded gaze sweep the room. All these eyes on you make you clench again, urging you to bounce harder on Seonghwa’s girth. 

“Look at you, slutty tits bouncing for us.” Jongho comments again, making you bite your lip, shame bubbling with arousal in the pit of your stomach. But at the same time you can’t seem to stop your hips, irrepressibly pulled down and pushed back up again and again until Seonghwa feels you flutter around him.

“You like giving a good show. Right Princess?”

“Yess sir” you whine, eyes prickling with tears. 

“Aren’t you a pretty one, doll?” Hongjoong whispers, his voice barely covering your moans and whines, slipping his hands right between your breasts caressing with the tip of his finger your soft and dampened sweaty skin, trailing to cup your breast. Suddenly he pinches your nipples harden into buds, the dull pain makes you roll your head back, letting a throaty moan escape your lips.

“Doll, can’t you do anything with those pretty hands of yours?” Hongjoong asks, pinching ever so slightly harder. 

Before you can even reply anything, Yeosang and Yunho step to each side of you, wrapping your fingers around their two cocks. 

“That’s way better” Hongjoong compliments.

They start out by guiding you on their length until you continue on your own. 

“Fuck sweetheart” Yeosang starts. “Those pretty hands were made to pleasure cocks” he praises as he brings your face close to his length, pushing your cheeks onto his tip, spreading the pre cum on your hot face. 

“Such a good little girl for us” Yunho outbids the praise, pulling you close to also spread his essence on you. “Faster my baby” he exhales.

You oblige as you feel Seonghwa's hands on your hips urging you to go faster, his blunt nails digging into your sides. As you do so Seonghwa lightly scoots down on the bench, angling his cock in a brand new way. You can't help but to moan loudly at the way he’s now rubbing your sweet spot, each back and forth scrubbing against the toy in your ass and deliciously poking at the entrance of Eden's garden. 

“Such beautiful sounds” Seonghwa praises, licking around your ear, the wet sounds of his mouth making your guts slush around as your grip tightens around the two cocks in your hand, making the two men groan. 

You can’t help but to let your mind slip in delirium again, pleasure delightfully clouding your judgment.

“Sir please, can I cum?”

“Again?” Jongho scoffs. “You really can’t fucking wait can you?” the sharp glacial tone, contrast with the sadistic and amused smirk spreading on his lips. You whine in response, brows linking on your forehead, bouncing even harder as Hongjoong continues to tease your nipples, taunting the hard buds until they become so sensitive you could cum from the way he plays with them alone.

“I’m sorry I can't let you Princess” Seonghwa says, strong grip on your hips making you stop abruptly. Immediately your hungry little cunt starts to pulse around his length, yearning for more of the delectable friction as your ass clenches around the plug.

“Please, Please please” you start to plead. Lust speaking in your place, completely forgetting about everything else.

“You really have no shame” the younger comments again.

“No Princess. Seonghwa says sternly. “Unfortunately I made you cum once already and I have to let the others also have fun with our brand new toy.” you whine, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “I recall Mingi didn’t even touch you yet”. 

Your eyes instantly snap to the tall pink haired man, standing in front of you while a wicked smirk spreads on his lips. 

“No, I haven't played with our little play thing… yet” his low voice rumbles makes your chest tighten as you let Seonghwa’s length slip out of you in defeat. The last word somehow sounds like a threat and makes you shiver. 

“What you say, y/n?” your heart makes a loop in your chest when the man uses your name. They only used pet names until then and you weren't expecting it, it somehow feels a lot more personal, almost making you forget you’re actually working right now. “Do you wanna play with me?” his large hand wraps around your neck, not squeezing in the slightest way. His fingers are only curled around you, lightly pulling you up to guide you out Seonghwa’s lap. 

“Yes. Yes I want to play with you, sir” you say, entranced by the man. 

“Good girl” he praises, still leading you by the neck and making you kneel on the carpeted floor. “Lay there Angel” his low but commanding voice said.

You lay on your back and bring your knees over your chest before spreading your legs open. Jongho and San sitting at each side hold your legs apart while all of them eye down your red, swollen and pulsing little cunt.

Mingi kneels down and places himself right between your thighs, the huge member sitting heavily in his open palm, you gasp when you feel the hot tip glide over your drenched folds. Mingi repeats the motion a couple of times, each time pressing down with his tip on your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves. You jerk your hips everytime under the divine pressure he applies but soon you grow frustrated.

“Please…”you whine breathless, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your messy hair stuck to your forehead.

“Please what, angel?” he asks as you feel a pair of foreign hands cup your breasts, you don't even take the time to look around to find the owner of those hands, only eyeing down Mingi’s massive cock laying over your quivering little pussy.

“Please I want to feel you” you finally say, just above a murmur, squirming not wanting anything more than to finally be filled to the brim with a cock. After all this teasing you just need to feel a cock inside you. Anyone. You just want to be filled. 

Mingi chuckles darkly at your quiet request as he continues to tease you.

“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, deep and sultry voice lifting goosebumps on your bare skin. You nod, not peeling your eyes off the member. “Bark for it.”

“Huh?” you look back at him confused, the wicked smirk playing on his lips makes you shiver.

“Bark for my cock like the bitch you are” he lifts up his dick to let it slap back down against your sensitive and erect clit, making your jerk at the sharp sting of pleasure.

“He said bark!” Jongho adds, only now you see he’s the one teasing your nipples.

“Woof woof” you finally let out.

“Again!” Jongho commands as he lands a slap on your cheek. Making you gasp and arch your back into the carpeted floor.

“Woof woof woof woof” you repeatedly scream.

Tears of frustration are blurring your vision. Making you unable to see as Mingi finally plunges his fat cock into your desperate heat. Your walls immediately welcome him with happy spasms. Mingi grunts and moans all the way down to the bottom of your hungry little cunt.

But then again he stops moving, he just stays there, more tears spill from your eyes, dragging down your mascara, progressively ruining the makeup that was so thoughtfully planned out for you. Much to Wooyoung's satisfaction. 

“Please. Please.” you say breathless, unable to stop yourself from trying to rock yourself on Mingi’s cock. “Please fuck me” you ask again.

“Color, doll?” you hear Hongjoong ask. You look back at him confused. You need a moment before the words even mean anything in your mind. But the question forces your mind back to reality.

“Green” you utter. To your response Hongjoong and the others snicker.

“You really like to beg don’t you?” Seonghwa's remark makes you whine.

“Such a good little cocksleeve, properly begging for us. You’re doing so good baby” Yunho praises, wiping the tears away.

“Go ahead Mingi… give her what she wants” Hongjoongs concludes.

The pink haired man then looks back at you and starts to push inside your greedy little cunt steadily.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir” you hastily say looking up at Hongjoong your orbs drowning in a sumptuous blend of desperation, gratitude and need. He looks down at you with a proud paternal smile. You’re so cute. Completely fucked out stupid. The perfect little fuck toy.

You feel your cunt deliciously stretch to accommodate Mingi’s fat cock as he bottoms out and lets out a low groan. You can’t help but to arch your back at the delicious filling sensation, the definitely girthy (to say the least) cock scraping against the toy crowding your other hole in exquisite pleasure. 

Gradually Mingi picks up the pace as Jongho continues to play with your tits. Flicking the hardened buds and pinching them occasionally crouching down to suck on them. 

Pleasure rises, your gut tightens in the familiar knot but as you become more vocal and as your walls start gripping Mingi a little tighter he slows down, denying you your high. You can’t help but to whine in disappointment.

But as a distraction from the frustration Wooyoung crouches down next to your face and once again teases your lips with his blazing tip. You gratefully open your mouth to take your mind off the agonizing pleasure Mingi inflicts to you. Hungrily sucking on Wooyoung’s length, bopping your head to the side as you felt another cock graze your cheek but you didn't open your eyes to see who it was you solely concentrated on Wooyoung.

“That's it baby. Suck my cock” you heard him praise as he wrapped his veiny hand around what was left of your bun. “Fffucck… y/n” he moaned. 

Mingi started to pick up the pace again making you moan on Wooyoung’s length, the vibrations making the younger man shiver. As you didn’t slow down, hollowing your cheeks on his length as you pulled and moaning as you pushed your head back.

“You’re so good for us, Princess” you heard Seonghwa from beside you, guessing it was his cock caressing your cheek. “That’s right, keep going like this” he encouraged and you picked the pace again.

“Fuck… You… mmmh… want my cum that… fucking… bad?” Wooyoung struggled to say as you felt his grip become tighter around your hair. You nodded again, you didn't know if your point came across but you didn't care you only wanted to taste his cum on your tongue.

“Fuckk” you heard Mingi still smashing himself between your legs.

“Fuck I’m cumming” Wooyoung pulled on your hair, popping his length out your mouth to release all over your face, warm white cum crashing on your nose, cheeks and lips. You hungrily licked your lips as Wooyoung grunted, emptying his balls on your face.

“Shit” the younger man breathes out as he unravels his fingers around your hair. Immediately Seonghwa pinches your chin and turns your head to the other side, to look at him. 

“Mingi please” you whine again as he decreases the pace again, you try to turn your head to the pink haired man kneeling between your legs but Seonghwa firmly maintains your face to him. 

“Shh, Princess.” he gently says as your body is shaken under each of Mingi's slow but powerful thrust. “Don't waste Wooyoung’s cum, okay?” with his index finger he scraped your cheek and dragged the thick liquid to your mouth, pushing his cum coated finger past your lips, as you wrapped your lips around it, moaning as Wooyoung’s taste filled your mind.

“That's it. Eat it all” Seonghwa praised as he jerked himself off with his other hand. “Good girl. You want mine too, Princess?” he asked, inching his length closer to you. 

“Yes! Please! Sir, please I want your cum” you eagerly reply. 

“Sweetheart is starved for cum, isn’t she?” Yeosang commented.

“Open. Stick your tongue out” Seonghwa’s tone was urgent, his voice was roughed up and strained, giving away at his own need. “Don't close your eyes, Princess” he says breathless, his fist frantically going up and down his aching cock. “Keep looking at me” he said, barely above a whisper. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth and knitting his brows as pleasure contorts his beautiful delicate features.

You happily obliged as Seonghwa lets himself go. Aiming primarily at your open wet hole but the uncontainable powerful streams also get on your nose and all the way to your forehead, perfectly splitting your ruined face in half. 

Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction as the others approve and jerk themself off at the beautiful and sinful sight.

“Keep your mouth open Baby. Don’t swallow yet” Mingi orders. “I want to see their cum in your mouth while I pound into you.” 

This time Mingi seems to be more serious, he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.

“Fuckkkkk” Mingi grunts as he plows into you, making your tits jiggle under Jongho’s hands. “You're so fucking pretty with all that cum on your face, angel” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Wanna cum on my cock, baby?”

“Yesshhh” you managed to say, swirling the two loads on your tongue.

As the pleasurable feeling spreads from your core to your whole body you feel warm hands laid against your erect clit, drawing tight small circles on it. 

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for us, sweetheart?” Yeosang purrs as he teases your clit, instantly taking you to unknown heights. The pleasure fogs up your mind as you can only think about Yeosang’s hand on you and Mingi’s cock pounding you into oblivion. 

“Fuck… Cum now.” Mingi ordered as his thrust became shallower, less regular. 

“Thank you. thank you thank you” you blabbered, your mouth still full of cum as you let yourself come undone at Yeosang and Mingi’s touch. Your cunt uncontrollably pulsating around Mingi’s big cock, the indescribable pleasure making your legs shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your tongue hang out your mouth, the cum threatening to spill with each jerk of your body.

“Fuckkk I’m cumming” Mingi announced as he became uneven, finally letting himself release deep inside you, his hips snapping to yours a couple of more times as he painted you a brand new shade of white, your convulsing little cunt milking him to the last drop, eagerly wanting to drown itself in the precious and delicious essence. 

“Swallow now, darling”. Yeosang allowed you. And you gladly did so. Finally getting the thick cum down your throat, relishing on the intoxicating taste as you let Mingi slip out of you and his cum lazily dripping out your shapeless hole.

“Come here and clean your little mess” Mingi said out of breath as he stumbled back sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. You got up on all four and crawled to him, finding your spot between his ample thighs while he held out his sticky cock to you, covered with your slick and his cum. You kept your ass up as you bent over to wrap your mouth around the tip and giving it a hard suck. You felt the warm load drip down your thighs as the mixed flavors of your arousal and his cum flooded your mouth.

As you licked clean every inch you felt a pair of hands gently pat your ass.

“You really have no shame, do you?” Jongho commented from behind you, landing a slap on your raw ass. You jerked and moaned as you popped Mingi’s freshly cleaned length out of your mouth. 

You felt Jongho pull on the plug that was still inside you. He pulled lightly on it a couple of times to let it be sucked back in by your ass. 

“Oh what a greedy little hole, clinging onto the toy like this” he said finally pulling the toy out, admiring your hole opening and closing in need to be filled again. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t stay empty for long”. Just as he said that he plunged two fingers inside your blinking hole. His index and middle finger forming a V to spread your hole open as much as possible. You moaned in bliss as the others watched you being split open in awe. 

“You like my fingers in your ass?” Jongho asked as his other hand was rubbing soothing circles on your bare bottom. 

“Yes!! Yess sir I love them” you almost yelled back eager to feel more of him.

“What a good little whore” he praised, landing another spank on your reddened cheek. He then curled his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You let your head hang as you close your eyes only focusing on the pleasure happening behind you when you feel a gentle touch on your cheek. When you look up it’s San, kneeling in front of you, holding his swollen and painfully hard length in his hand. 

“My turn now, kitten.” he says in a raspy tone. “Open up” as soon as you part your lips he slips inside the wet hole, directly aiming for the back of your throat. As you are on your hands and knees your mouth and neck perfectly align in a flat line and San is able to reach the back of your throat easily. You feel the pleasure burn again in your already sore throat, awakening the dormant and dull pain, a little souvenir of his previous visit.

After a couple of back and forths he pops his length out your mouth, making you whine but it’s caught in your throat when you feel Jongho stuff one more finger inside your crowded little ass.

San wraps his fist around his length as lazily pumps himself a few times.

“Give me a hand Woo”

You see Wooyoung’s veiny hand wrap around San’s cock. San lets out a throaty moan as the younger man’s fingers curled around his length, pumping him lazily while you observed in awe as his catlike eyes creased and his eyebrows met on his forehead. 

San’s now free hand gently rubbed your face, his lips being pulled in a sinful smirk.

“Faster” he instructed Wooyoung. and he immediately started to pump his fist quicker. “Ffuucckk yesss” he hissed clenching his jaw as his half lidded eyes stared right into you.

“I think kitten wants her milk” he chuckled at the way your eyes started to grow in approbation, pupils dilated at the thought. “Let’s not make her wait any longer”

You licked your lips in anticipation while San caught his bottom lip between his teeth, completely dropping the cocky smile as you saw him twitch in Wooyoung’s hand.

“Open your mouth, darling” Wooyoung ordered, aiming San’s cock right at your wet hole.

“Fuck, kitten! Want my milk?” San asked as you saw his muscular thighs contract.

“Yes please sir I'm a thirsty kitty” you said before sticking your tongue out. Which made San push his jaw forward.

“Then take it” he said, his hand going from your cheek to your neck to pull your face further onto his crotch right before he cums as Wooyoung clenches his fist around the twitching cock. A colossal amount of cum spurts out of his open slit, crashing on your face and mixing with the others’ loads, your tears and smudged makeup.

“Good girl” Wooyoung praises.

The salty and bitter taste wraps around your tongue as you moan in satisfaction letting your mind focus on this intoxicating flavor. 

But Jongho pulls you out of your trance by circling your waist with his free hand, to be able to play with your clit. Which has you moaning instantly.

“I want you to cum around my fingers” Jongho whispered as he drew tight and rapid circles on your over-stimulated clit. More tears spill from your eyes as the pleasure elevates your body again.

“Pleaseeee” you whine. At this point you don't even know what you are begging for anymore. Are you begging him to stop, to let you rest? Are you begging him for more?

Then Wooyoung crouches down and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as your jaw is slacked. Your moans and whines are muffled as your eyes roll back into your skull while you share San’s taste mixed your spit with the raven black haired man.

“That's it baby” Jongho praises a carnivorous grin pulling at his lips. 

Another earth-breaking orgasm washes over your body as your tight little asshole tries to swallow Jongho’s fingers whole, your cum spraying out of you in a powerful stream again while you moan into Wooyoung’s open mouth.

When Jongho pulls out you are left breathless and fucked out of your mind.

“She’s ready back here” Jongho announced, wiping his fingers on your skirt abandoned on the floor. “Who wants to have a go?” he asks.

“Me” Yunho answered immediately. 

You can't help but to gulp. Out of the eight of them, Yunho is easily the biggest one. You can’t help but to nervously chew on your bottom lip as you eye down Yunho’s hard and leaking huge cock. 

“Stay right here” Yeosang says as he sees you squirming.

Yunho kneels behind you but as soon as you turn your head to look back, Yeosang gently pinches your chin and makes you look at him.

“Look what you did to me, sweetheart.” he gently purred, swiping the raging hot tip across your wet swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard ever. That’s all for you, darling” Yeosang sings as he pushes back his long black hair. You let a moan escape your lips as you feel Yunho’s fingers swipe up your slit to your clit, flicking the poor exhausted nub a couple of times, when he notices how sensitive you are. You hear him chuckle behind you.

“Don’t you think you have to take responsibility for it?” Yeosang’s grip on your chin grows tighter but his voice remains as sweet as honey.

“Yes, sir” you agree as you open your mouth again. As soon as Yeosang’s hot cock head glazes over your tongue the sweet taste of precum completely wipes away the soreness of your already abused jaw. 

“Yesss” Yeosang hisses, gentle hands wrapped around your nape and guiding your lips to meet his pubic bone. “So fucking good baby” he gently pulls out and goes back in immediately. 

Then you feel Yunho’s cock rub against your soaked center, emitting a lowly grunt, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock. The latter chuckles and the way you shudder feeling your little cunt being teased again.

“You want Yunho’s cock, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling his dick out of your mouth to allow you to answer. 

“Yes! Yes please Sir!” you eagerly say, trying to look back again but Yeosang doesn't let you..

“Look at me, darling. Only me” he reminds you. “Where do you want his cock?” he traces the outline of your lips with his spit coated member, teasing himself in the process.

“In my ass please. I want Yunho’s cock in my ass” You said with pleading eyes looking up at Yeosang. 

“So greedy” Yunho snickered once more as he finally pushed himself inside your blinking hole. You can’t help but to gasp at the way your ass expands to accommodate Yunho’s enormous cock. Each of the rings inside your tiny hole stretches to a brand new limit to fit the monstrous member forcing its way inside of you. You groan and bite your lip all the way until Yunho has pushed the whole thing inside and you manage to take him completely. You suck in a couple of deep and shaky breaths.

“Such a good girl swallowing my big cock whole like this” Yunho praises as he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adapt to him. “Are you alright, babygirl?” he asks with his sweet voice, the caring tone makes your heart flutter.

“Yes sir, I’m good” You answer with a short breath. 

“You’re so pretty, darling” Yeosang says, wiping a tear off your mascara stained cheek. “So beautifully ruined for us” he says before pushing his dick past your lips again. At the exact same time Yunho slowly pulled himself out of you. Scraping you so deliciously as he did so, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock, the vibrations making a shiver run down his spine. 

“Fuck you’re gripping me so tight babygirl” Yunho growled as he pushed his length back inside. You could have cum with just this. Just by the way he was making you so full of him, scraping you in all the right places. To take your mind off the pleasure that was burning your guts you started to focus on Yeosang instead. 

You bopped your head along his cock and hollowed your cheeks when you reached the tip, sucking a little harder as your tongue lapped at his slit making sure your tongue never forgot his taste.

“You’re so good with your mouth, sweetheart” Yeosang said, warm hands gently wrapping around you as his hips helped you to get him off. Snapping his hips against your face but never to the point to trigger your gag reflex, there was a gentleness to him, a softness in the way he looked down at you almost amorously as you felt his cock throb on your tongue. The tenderness made you want to be the best girl you could be for him. You wanted to give him your all and you intend to do just that.

“Fuckkk” he hissed as you wrapped your tongue around the sensitive head, bopping your head a little harder.

“Babygirl wants our cum too?” Yunho asked as his hips became sloppier against yours, the two large palms tensing on your ass cheeks and squeezing them to keep himself balanced on his knees as he smashed himself inside. 

“Stay still, sweetheart” Yeosang suddenly says, steadying himself right in front of your mouth. One hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, the other still on your nape. “I’m gonna use your cute little mouth. That's what you want, right darling? Wanna be my toy?” You nodded your head quickly while you obediently waited for him to fuck your mouth, staying as still as Yunho allowed you to be as he pounded into you.

Yeosang’s thrusts were shallow at first. But quickly grew deeper, making your core tighten and your eyes prickle again

“Fuck baby. You’re gonna make me cum if you clench like this” Yunho grunted. “I want you to cum with me, understood, babygirl?” 

You only moaned back, unable to form words as your mouth was clearly occupied and busy. 

“Goog girl” he moaned, his trusts becoming more and more sloppy as Yunho became more vocal, grunting and moaning with each coming and going, his grip on your ass growing tighter until he was ready to bust. 

“Fuck, baby. Now” he breathlessly said as he gave you one particularly powerful thrust. “Now. Cum for me. Cum for us, baby”

You let yourself leap past that edge once more, the overwhelming pleasure makes you moan and whine against Yeosang’s length while your ass clings onto Yunho’s huge cock, demanding to be filled with his cum, walls pulsing and clenching in exquisite bliss as you felt him slip out of you. Yunho only had to give himself a couple of light pumps around his fist before he exploded all over your ass, long ropes of scolding hot cum splashing on your back even reaching all the way to your hair and the back of your head. 

“Fuckkkk” Yunho cried out, clenching his fist around his cock, pressing his thumb over the throbbing head to push every last drop of his cum out just for you. 

“Shit, darling, I'm gonna cum” Yeosang declared, following right after the taller man, his hips snapping one last time against your lips, as you felt his throbbing cock releasing the thick cum right into your throat, not even leaving you the pleasure to feel it slide against your tongue, directly delivering it down your throat. Stuttering hips and pubic bone flushed against your face. A long string of deep moans echoing the ones of Yunho.

When Yeosang slipped out of you and pinched your chin again to make you look up at him. He looked back at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, a treasure that needed to be protected at all costs. Looking so fondly at his fucked out toy, your half lidded eyes hung in nothingness as your body was still lightly shaken by the intense and multiple orgasms.

“So pretty, sweetheart” he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen and numb lips, which you barely had the conscience to even reciprocate. “Such a good girl for us”

When Yeosang gently lets go of you, you have to gather all the strength left in your body not to let yourself collapse to the ground and hold yourself still on your hands and knees. You barely even notice when Hongjoong crouches in front of you.

“Color, Doll?” he asks as he lazily pumps his swollen cock inside his hand.

“G-green” you barely manage to say. Your mind still completely hazy from the previous events but you are brought back instantly as Hongjoongs lands a quick slap on your mascara stained cheek, making you whip your head to the side.

“Didn’t hear you, doll” he said, giving you a chance to correct yourself. 

“Green, S-sir” you sniffled, remembering to use the correct title, your eyes snapping to him.

“Good girl” Hongjoong added, soothing your burning cheek with his thumb. “I guess it’s my turn now, right, doll?” he looked down at you with a carnivorous, predatory smile that made you shudder.

“Yes, Sir. Whenever you are ready”

Hongjoong sat right in front of you, in the cum soaked carpeted floor of the jet.

“Sit on my cock, doll.” Hongjoong said, holding the base of his length up in the air, urging you to be filled up once again.

You struggled to get up on your two legs and staggered over to Hongjoong, placing your feet at each side of him. When you lowered your hips, aligning your entrance with Hongjoong’s member your thighs barely held you anymore. Your body was exhausted but somehow you were yearning for more. Your insatiable and sore little cunt was throbbing at the idea of being filled up again. 

When Hongjoong’s tip glided along your slit you moaned and draped your arms around his shoulders, using him as a way to get balance. You let out a long moan when Hongjoong finally splits you open, his length pushing the remnants of Mingi’s load deeper inside you. 

“Fuck. You’re already throbbing, you dumb little whore” Hongjoong said, hand untangling with your hair and breaking your neck backward, to give himself access to your already bruised neck. Adding his touch to the stained canvas with bites and kisses. “Yearning to be filled again. Isn't that right, doll?” he asked, yanking your hair a little harder when you didn’t reply fast enough.

“Yes, Sir. I wanted your cock so bad. It feels so good!!!” you moaned as you started to bounce yourself on him, earning a satisfied groaned from the blonde man. “Right thereee” you let out as you sink your hips all the way down, slowly again, feeling the head of his cock rub against your sweet spot. 

“Good girl. Keep going” Hongjoong urged, letting go of your hair and laying himself back on his elbows, backing away slightly to take your whole form in. He wanted to admire you fuck yourself up on his cock. He wanted to see your tits bounce and your pussy throb as you drove yourself to madness. He wanted to see you cry. He knew exactly how.

He landed a purposeful and sharp slap right on your soaked little clit. The reaction is immediate and exactly what Hongjoong was looking for. You emit the most divine of screams, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Hongjoong can't help but to smirk when he sees how your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill up with tears again all the while never stopping your hips snapping against his. 

“Say thank you” he orders, putting both of his hands on your thigh keeping them nice and parted, eyes only ogling the way your hungry little cunt swallowed him only to spit him out covered in your slick seconds later and do it all over again and again and again. 

“Thank you, sir” you whine. “Please another one, sir” you ask, mind slipping back into an indiscernible fog. Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your sudden request. But he’s pleasantly surprised by your obedience and devotion.

“What a pathetic little pain slut you are, y/n” He lands another slap just as perfectly aimed as the previous one making you moan and finally making the precious tears spill from your eyes at the mention of your name.

“Such a good little fuck toy, asking so nicely. Good girls get rewards, right doll?” Hongjoong says as he starts to draw small circles on your throbbing clit with his index and middle finger. 

“Oh my god. Th-thank you, Sir” you whine, more large tears rolling on your heated cheeks. The pleasure makes you eager to chase your high and you find yourself bouncing harder on Hongjoongs’ cock. Not even realizing Jongho creeping up behind you again.

“Sir, can I please cum?” you ask, feeling your high dangerously nearing as you feel your walls tighten around Hongjoong’s length and your clit throbbing under his touch.

“You’re an eager little whore aren’t you?” the voice of the youngest resounds behind you. When you turn your head he pushes on your shoulder making you fall forward onto Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong chuckles as Jongho gets on his knees and shimmies himself between the older man’s legs. You still yourself completely when you feel him rub his tip around your rim.

Without even another word he shoved his whole cock inside your available hole in one thrust, making you moan into Hongjoong’s ear.

“Now be a good little cocksleeve and stay still while we fuck you stupid.” Jongho ordered as he was slowly pulling on his length while you felt Hongjoong squirm beneath you and plant both his feet on the ground only to thrust up inside of you at the exact same time as Jongho.

You can't help but scream-moan as the two rods inside you grind against each other. You plant your manicured nails on Hongjoong’s shoulders, almost to the point of drawing blood making him arch his back and chuckle at the dull pain.

“Fuck yes!!” you cry out, hanging your head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they move in unison to rearrange your guts. 

“That feels good, doll?” Hongjoong asks, continuously fucking his hips up into you.

“Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I fucking love it” you say through gritted teeth trying your hardest not to let yourself cum from the sheer pressure the both apply in turns to your sweet spot.

“Yeah” Jongho added from behind you. “You love two cocks fucking you up like this?” He said squeezing your ass, nails digging in the supple flesh of your raw cheeks. 

“Yes Sir. I love both your cocks” you reply.

“Two cocks at the same time is the bare minimum for a whore like you right, baby?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your bum. 

“Oh my god. Please can I cum now?” you ask in a strangled moan, knowing well enough by the way your pussy and ass are throbbing you won’t be able to hold back much longer. You are desperate for your release.

“Beg us for it.” Hongjoong said, his hands holding your waist down.

At this point you've lost consciousness of everything that isn't the two cocks slamming inside you right now. You can’t remember anything except for the unbearable pleasure you feel, making your walls clench and your center gush with wet and slimy arousal, coating the two man fucking you into your next life right now. If anybody asked you, you couldn’t even remember your own name. At this point you would do anything, anything at all, to finally grasp your climax. You only want one thing and it is to finally cum around these two cocks. And if you have to beg for it, so be it.

“Please. Please. Sir. Please let me cum for you. There's nothing I want more than to show you how I shake and scream for your cocks. Wanna cum for you, wanna give you the best show. Wanna make you cum inside my throbbing little hungry cunt” You struggle to say between moans, your voice interrupted by the incessant carousel of their thrusts inside your tired and shapeless little holes.

“Go ahead, doll. Cum.”

Finally you let go of that pressure building in your core, the burning pleasure spreading into your limbs and making you shake. Your cunt and ass violently throbbing and clenching on Jongho and Hongjoong. You cry and moan as tears of relief roll down on your cheeks.

“So fucking pretty cumming on our cocks, doll” Hongjoong praises as his hips become sloppy. “Want me to fill your pretty little cunt with my cum?” he asks, teeth grazing your ears. 

“Yes please, sir” you reply in a sob, your orgasm continuing to rip through you.

“Fucking take my cum deep in your ass, fucking whore” Jongho demands a he releases inside your throbbing little hole. 

“Yes Thank you sir”  you cry out, your ass clenching around the younger one’s thick cock. 

“Fuckkk” Hongjoong grunts as he finally cums inside you filling your wet hole with hot cum, the thick slimy and white liquid spilling and dripping down, joining the existing mess on the carpeted floor. 

The three of you ascending to your peaks at the same time in a beautiful unisson of moans and grunts. Until they gradually stop their hips smashing into yours. For a couple of minutes you all just lay there to catch your breath, all piled on top of each other. 

After that you barely have enough time to summarily wash up (meaning roughly wipe away the smudged makeup, cum and sweat with a hot towel and hop back into your former uniform) before you have to fasten your seat belt again. 

The descent is smooth, in this general euphoria there’s nothing awkward left between you and the members. After being so intimate with each other there’s no place left for embarrassment or discomfort. You are even able to crack a few jokes and communicate light heartedly. Except for the stain on the carpeted floor and the remnants of your endeavors in your hair there was no way of knowing what had happened between all of you only minutes ago.

As they disembarked the jet Hongjoong gave you one last small paper bag. He insisted that it was more than well deserved after the service of the highest quality you provided.

“Really I insist” he says, pushing the small bag into your hands. “Please take this and open it as soon as you get the time” he says before glancing back at his members waiting for him a little further already geared up with the beanies, bucket hats, sun glasses and masks. 

“Thank you very much” you said bowing your head respectfully. “Thank you for choosing Air France, we hope to see you soon” you said waving goodbye at them while they disappeared in the elbowed tube.

You sat on the bench and opened the small bag to find huge stacks of cash in 500 euros bills. Your heart almost looped in your chest and you thanked yourself to have chosen to sit before opening the final gift. You found a small card inside it.

We wanted to get you enough that you could retire if you wanted to. But we really hope you don’t ;)...

See you soon y/n.

-8 makes 1 girl cream, ATEEZ

ps: it was Mingi’s idea.

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a/n: so?? how was it?? honestly im so so happy to present that to you finally! i've had this idea first since 2020 and it took 3 whole years for the idea to be shaped into something that i could actually write then actually taking the time to write and edit and publish... so pleaseeee tell me you enjoyed if you did. in the comments or in my asks if you wanna stay anon 🥸 (especially if you read the watersports and you liked it. im scared about publishing something like this so reassure me pls <3). you really have no idea how happy it would make me if you left a nice comment. honeslty just come fuel my praise kink please 🥺. And reblogging would be really great too <333 that being said im thankful you read it wether you choose to react or not and ily <3