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#and they’re tinted and mirrored
sarahsupernovah · 1 year
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Imagine fucking here doggy style as we both look out at the natural beauty 🥰😍
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thebestorworstofit · 1 year
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me: works one of my busiest weeks to date bc of incompetence bitches and is totally physically and mentally drained
also me: forgets to cancel 3 back to back reservations ending up in me having to dart up to the parks to scan in every night
also also me: has taken so much pixie dust to the face the last 48 hours my left tear duct got irritated and now it looks like i have a black eye.
also me x3: is equally the happiest and most stressed i’ve ever been
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mactavishsgfandwife · 6 months
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Simon Riley who bleaches his hair. (inspired by this)
There’s a weird smell in your flat. And no, for once, it’s not your boyfriend’s awful British ‘cooking’.
"Simon? You there?" you call out, kicking your shoes off and hanging your jacket up by the door.
"M’here," he calls back, occupied. The cat is sitting on the sofa, looking very unimpressed with his dad’s antics.
"Do you-" you turn a corner to see your boyfriend, staring into the bathroom mirror a little too intensely. One of those hair-colouring brushes is in his hand, painting a slightly blue-tinted paste over his short hair.
"Hey, sweetheart." Hr doesn’t turn from the mirror, but it’s clear that he’s struggling to hide the grin on his face as you catch him red-handed. Bleach-handed.
Simon bleaches his hair? It’s not naturally that colour? Not really knowing what to say, you just stand there and laugh a little, before stepping closer to investigate what he’s doing. He’s laid out all the products in no particular order, by the sink.
"Can y’get the back of my head?" he groans, turning his head in the mirror in an attempt to see how much of it he’s covered.
"Sure." You nod, standing on a chair to get a good vantage point over him.
"Missed a spot, Si," you coo, filling in the little section just above his nape that is not covered by the bleach, and lean to kiss his head, before deciding that that might not be a great idea. Instead, you hop down, and with his strong arms around you, reach up to give him a proper kiss.
"Thanks, love," he grins, not-so-subtly checking himself out in the mirror.
"This stuff stinks," you whine, giggling at this new hairstylist development.
thanks for reading! i was randomly inspired :3 i’m working through my requests atm, but they’re still open! check out my masterlist!
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yanderenightmare · 24 days
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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, dehumanization, patronization, condescension
♡ FEM reader
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This is his playroom. It’s got puzzle-piece foam flooring and is filled to the brim with all sorts of different toys—including you. He’s got stuffed animals, pretty dolls, toy soldiers, Lego builds, and a gaming station with all types of fun—and parental safety restrictions, of course, no talking to strangers for you. Your controller is a pretty baby pink, and his a cool camo-green. But today, they’re left on the floor, untouched.
Because today, he only wants to play with you.
“You’re gonna be so pretty…” His voice is as grating as always—synthetically childish, making you grit your teeth. Sitting with you between his legs before the mirror, working diligently.
You look at the floor to avoid your reflection.
He’d gotten you a brand new baby-blue dress and painted you himself—done your eyelids up in matching clear skies, black lashes moth-like and fluttery, cheeks a rosy pink, and lips a sheer gloss extra plump and pretty—no need for tint—you bite them so cutely, they’re already his favorite color. Your hair’s done up in curls and ringlets, so bouncy and soft, beribboned with plentiful white bows.
“This color suits you so well. Makes you look like a cake-topper. Bite-sized. I could eat you right up.” He hums behind you, fiddling with the many intricacies, doing them up perfectly—no rush.
Looking up, the person staring back at you looks no different from a life-sized porcelain doll. Pristine, mint condition, fit to be put behind glass. In your frilly dress, petticoat and stockings. Just like Alice down the rabbit hole.
The only thing that betrays the illusion is the leather collar on your throat and the chain running from it to the middle of the floor. But no matter.
He’s got a giddy smile on his face— chest swelled with pride at his work. You’re his most prized possession. You really are! There isn’t a single toy in this room that can compete with you.
He’s not wearing anything special to match. Bedhead, undressed, still in his pajama pants. Why wouldn’t he be? This is his playroom, after all—his downtime—where he can be a boy with his toy. Though, calling him a boy isn’t exactly right—what with him being nearly in his thirties. Not to mention that he’s about two heads taller than you, with abs like an athlete, toned and chiseled and hard to the touch, hard enough to strain your wrists when he bears down on you. Oh, and that thing in his pants.
You bite your tongue and steal yourself. It would be easy to cry, but he only gets weirder about it then. So you stifle it, even though you look so stupid you want to act like an animal. Tear the dress to shreds and rub your makeup into a mess—scream, bite, spit on him. You’d done all that once before to no avail other than punishments that still keep you up at night. Once was enough. He didn’t play nice with you.
But then again, when does he ever?
“Hmm, think I’m done…” he announces after having dallied with the lace of your corset for a quarter-hour—it’s so tight you have to appreciate every breath. “Time to have some fun.”
He treats you no different from a doll either. Scooping you up into his arms like an inanimate object and carrying off to the princess bed—the one that looks like a girl’s birthday cake with a veil on top, and mountains of pillows all too soft.
He places you down on top of the duvet and it seems to swallow you like an ocean. He dives after, covering you like a fishnet. You take a final breath before he can drown, your hand on his chest, holding him at a distance.
“I was thinking, uhm…” you start, the words coming out odd, barely recognizable as your voice—only noticing now how long it had been since you’d spoken last. “I was…” you restart, but it’s still no easier. His eyes are large and unblinking, staring down at you as though he’s just as surprised as you are to found out you speak. “Hoping we could play… a little differently this time?”
He blinks at the request, having fallen completely still above you.
“Really? How?” The suddenness of his words make you flinch. You don’t know what you had expected—maybe a smile and something dismissive. It had been a while since he’d spoken directly to you like that—and not to himself in absentminded comments about you.
You recover some time, seeing him stare down at you all expectantly in wait. He follows when you guide him into sitting instead of looming over you, putting yourself in his lap—straddling him. “Mh, like this. Maybe?”
It’s a gamble. He’d never had you on top before, nor ever shown an interest in it. Setting aside the time you’d been sprawled on your belly over his thighs, his hand riddled in your hair and his other hand branding your ass with his very own toy company logo.
His expression is unreadable—perhaps a little confused if you were to take a guess.
“Oh!” he erupts with a smile you hope is the good sort. “You mean I play the toy and you the master?” He laughs brightly, falling on his back with a hand over his face, cackling through his fingers as though it were the most absurd proposal he’d ever heard.
But despite his obvious amusement, you still feel it—his toy poking into you from beneath.
He settles after a moment. “Alright then, why not?” Looking up at you—his hair a tousled mess splayed upon the bed, eyes as gleeful as the quirk on his lips. “Who knows… it could be fun.”
He props his arms behind his head, lounging comfortably.
“I did call you a cake-topper, after all,” he snickers. “I’ll lie perfectly still, like a good toy, while you play with me. Sound good?”
You can’t believe how open he was to it. Still a little apprehensive, you nod your head.
And then the game begins…
He doesn’t exactly stay true to his word. But you suppose that would be too much to ask. His head still rests pretty on the pillow with his eyes closed, smiling in satisfaction—for now, sated with your performance. Groaning in absentminded bliss, “You’re right. This is fun~”
But he hadn’t stayed perfectly still like he’d said. He’d reached out when you’d finally begun riding and now his arms keep you snug against his chest, fine-pressed sweaty skin against your frilly bust, more in a lock than a hug. It makes it kind of difficult to do what he wants, but you try your best—knees and toes planted in the mattress for stability as you jerk your hips on his lap. It’s awkward, but riding him like this is still better than the alternative, after all.
You keep your arms around the back of his neck, resting your face in the cradle it creates beneath his chin, panting lowly—eyes closed in focus away from the pain, brows tight with your tongue between your teeth, trying to maintain the rhythm despite the blossoming ache that’s started to spread from your hips down your thighs—another ill sting in the small of your back crawling up your spine. It’s hard staying bent over like this, and your movements are turning sluggish…
There’s a sigh from above you, pitchy and just awful. “Aww, is it really time already?” he whines—previous satisfaction dwindling—bordering on something else entirely now, the opposite and so much worse—boredom with a hint of disappointment—a spoiled child with a toy that’s run out of battery.
You shake your head, burying your face in his neck and tightening your grip, stealing yourself with newfound strength to maintain the tempo you had before while muffling out a desperate, “No, I can keep going—”
He lets out another sound, this time in thought. “Hmm...” It doesn’t give you much confidence—how lax a sound it is—as if he isn’t even close to being spent yet. “I don’t know… You’re so slow. I’m gonna get soft if this is all you got, y’know?”
He starts moving—sitting up. He takes his own hold on your hips, and you know what that means. And you can’t handle being played with, not when he damn near breaks you each and evert time.
“No, wait! I can keep going, please, just a little longer?” you insist, both palms pushed flat on his chest with your round eyes looking at him hopelessly in plead for a second chance—even though you know he isn’t one with the patience to give you one.
He stares blankly back, big-eyed in surprise at your outburst. Though still not convinced it would be worth humoring you. If he was being honest, he’d enjoyed it more than he thought he would but had now had his fill and wanted to take charge as usual and finish the job. However…
Oh, you’re being so uncharacteristically cute today—and that pathetic look of desperation on your face is truly something else…
He smiles deceptively softly, so brightly it reaches his eyes. He very nearly looks innocent like that, but you know him too well—so well that the sight of his lips curling gives you nothing but a churning stomach.
“Okay then, doll. You convinced me.”
Suppose it doesn’t hurt letting you have your way sometimes. You have been on very good behavior lately, after all. He ought to reward you.
“I’ll be your toy a little longer.” He murmurs with a lazy smirk, nose-kissing you—patronizing, as though he’s doing you a big favor.
It doesn’t grant you any peace, and neither does the way he keeps his hold on your hips, rubbing smooth circles into the fat leisurely, letting you know he wouldn't be removing them—it serves as some type of encouragement as you start moving again.
It’s easier now when you’re upright. Holding his shoulders, you can jump rather than buck—up and down, up and down, up and down—it’s simple enough. Or it was for a moment, at least, before he planted your hips down.
“Not like that,” he shakes his head softly. “Like this.” He moves you after his will, wanting you to grind instead—putting you back in square one.
Your movement staggers, and you mask a wince with a moan—fuck, your muscles are so sore, maintaining this movement is enough to make your loins scream, feeling all but set on fire.
With one hand keeping you seated, the other takes hold of your leash and pulls you in close, his lips on the dew of your rouge-dusted cheek—you feel the grin, and like prey threatened by a hunter’s teeth, you shiver in respect of it. “Come on, dolly, ride or die, faster,” he simpers, voice laced with mockery and amusement.
Your thighs are shaking now, tightened up in anguish, begging for a break—soon to take it without your permission. How much you can take reaches a point, and everything goes slack not a second too soon.
“And now you’re done,” he snickers hotly under his breath, planting a kiss on the side of your glossy lips while you exhaustedly and gingerly take your break with a feeling of defeat. He speaks low, and you dread every eerie lick of his words, “My turn to play.”
You want to protest, but you know it’s no use. He’d made up his mind now, and challenging it any further would only turn you into a nuisance—toys are supposed to enjoy being played with, after all—best take it with grace and shut up before he reminds you.
He flips the both of you around with ease, reclaiming his spot—on top. He loves you like this, splayed out beneath him like a puppet—just waiting to have all your strings pulled.
It was good while it lasted, you think—maybe if you get better, you can make him finish and not have to endure what comes next.
“Don’t pout, dolly—that was fun,” he kisses you lips as they start to tremble. “But you suit being my toy so much better.”
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♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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catiuskaa · 10 months
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sway with me —bf!minho thoughts.
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A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!
(because everyone loved chan's edition so much and it's really easy to get ot8 brainrot for headcanons and because i love my little bunny boy minho~!)
(this ended up being longer than expected lol)
minho, who’s been training all afternoon inside the company’s practice room. He feels sweaty as he pants, laying on the floor.
minho, who’s so comfortable resting on the wooden floor that doesn’t even bother to open his eyes when the door creaks open, a known silhouette entering with small steps.
minho, who can’t stop a small smile that creeps from the deepest parts of his body when he hears your soft tone of voice call his name, almost in a whisper. “Minho, baby? Are you awake?” For a moment, he pretends to be asleep, and relaxes his body, feeling you move closer to him.
minho, who snickers before lauching his body over yours, rolling on the floor with your body pressed tightly against his, and then stops, smiling from all your giggling when he pins you down.
minho, who gently lowers his head and stays right above yours, almost tempting you to move when he boops your nose with his, then tenderly leaves a shy kiss on your forehead.
minho, who gets too shy after that display of affection that he grins slyly, abruptly letting all his weight on you.
minho, who teasingly refuses to move from on top of you, a childish mockery that you cherish because of how sappy and cute he looks when he wiggles his eyebrows and raises his tone of voice, just like a toddler.
minho, who blushes furiously after you enticingly start peppering his face with kisses, unconciously leaning for more, but then, he reminded himself where you both were.
minho, who quickly rushes back to his feet as you cackle, still on the floor. “Yeah. Reeeeeeally funny.” He mumbles, not being able to cover his red-tinted cheeks or his flustered smile.
minho, who says he has to finish his training. “just one more time, jagi.” He claims, lying through his teeth.
minho, who only wants to dance again because he loves to feel your stare on him as his body moves to the music, smirking at you through the mirror when your cheeks turn slightly pink.
minho, who grins like a fool when you recognize the song and stand up from the sofa, cheeky as you laugh and state that you know this dance better than he does.
minho, who lets you have the spotlight as you laugh, making up moves as you dance, letting the rythm and the melody guide your way.
minnho, who loves to see you dancing anytime, not only because of how good your skills may or may not be, but because how cheerful you look.
minho, who finishes practice and gets home with you with a big smile on his face despite how draining training can get sometimes.
minho, who thinks the best part of the day is when he comes out of the shower and you smile at him, moving your paperwork somewhere else as you start heating up dinner for both of you.
minho, who backhugs you and moves his hand from your waist to underneath your shirt, a move not overly sexual coming from him, but rather one that makes your heart flutter.
minho, who slowly sways your body as he humms, happy that you like dancing and cooking with him, but even happier that you are here with him.
(aish it got so fluffy i almost cried abkdbakdjakd so cute i love minho ajdjajdjkadka —more incomprehensible sounds from cuteness overload—)
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13uswntimagines · 3 months
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The Royal Playbook (Alessia X Leah X Royal!R)
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Summary: It wasn't often that you used your name or your titles, but to see your girlfriends, you would do just about anything. Even if it means going head-to-head with your new security. 
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but otherwise nothing. It's a fluff piece.
Your life was complicated. Well… that may have been putting it lightly. 
Everything in your life had been planned for you since well before you were born. You had a tutor, an etiquette instructor, and an equestrian coach from the moment you came screaming into the world. Along with a security detail and a personal team of butlers to help you navigate life. 
It was simple, you would be academically trained, coached in diplomacy (and swordsmanship as was customary on Braavos), and exposed to different cultures so that you could continue to lead your country like your father and his mother before him. You would marry a foreign diplomat, and make political bonds that would strengthen your little island nation’s place in Europe. 
Falling in love had never been a part of that plan. 
Neither had your absolute obsession with football. Specifically, your obsession with English football. 
But your parents had taken it in stride and were far more accepting than you had any right to believe they would be. They were supportive even after they found out you preferred the fairer sex, and they absolutely adored the women who had stolen your heart.
You happened to adore them too. 
Well, something stronger than adore. 
You would do anything for them. 
They made you willing to break all of the carefully constructed rules you had grown up with. They made you forget the weight of responsibility that had been balanced on your shoulders since your coronation date was set the day you turned 16. 
They treated you like Y/n instead of Her Majesty the heir to the throne. They made you feel normal. 
It killed you that you couldn’t be… open with your relationship. That having the world know would put them in the firing line. 
You sighed, leaning back into the leather seat as the SUV slowed, turning in front of the Emirates. The dark window tint blocked out the flashing lights, and the thousands of pounds of armor plating dulled the chanting from the throngs of people. The little flags on the cars in your motorcade told them all who was inside, even if they didn’t know which of the 4 cars you were in. 
You shifted, tugging at the hem of your jersey. “Do you think we’ll make it in time for warmups?”
The new material was still tight on your skin, so much different than the cotton dress shirts you normally wore, and the two little names above your favorite number felt unnaturally… weighted. 
They were in a way. As soon as a photographer caught a picture of them, your secret would be out. 
“I’ve sent a team ahead to clear your entrance and the box you’ll be staying in, so as long as we can get through this crowd we should make it,” Davis said, glancing up at you in the rearview mirror. “I know they’re your favorite part,”
You hummed, glancing back out of the darkened windows at the masses of people dressed in white and red. 
A part of you envied them. 
You would never be able to walk into a stadium through its entrance. You would never get to see the mural of the team that existed in the main hall of the Emirates. You would never get to sit in the supporters section, surrounded by the various chants. 
The other, larger part knew how much you despised being surrounded by people. How claustrophobic it made you feel, and how hard it made it for you to breathe.
But you still wondered if it would be different if those people weren’t carrying cameras and screaming for your attention. You wondered if watching your girlfriends do the things they loved would negate how incredibly uncomfortable you got when people were too close. 
“It just completes the whole experience,” You mumbled into the glass. 
Davis made a noise of agreement. “Yes, it does,”
He knew that one of the reasons you loved it so much was because it gave you time to not have to think. To just exist in a space where you weren’t the air to the throne. Where all that mattered was what was happening in front of you. 
You didn’t have to say it for him to know. 
He could read you like a book. He had experienced every day of your life with you. He acted more like a father than your own father did, and you trusted him implicitly. 
The car inched forward, past another gaggle of people holding their phones up to video the caravan.
“We might have to go with plan b if Her Majesty wishes to see the warmups,” Your driver said more to Davis than to you.“There’s an obstruction ahead,”
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together as the car crawled forward through the growing crowd. 
Your head of security made a gruff sound, already lifting his phone and speaking rapidly into the receiver. 
You barely paid attention to what he was saying. It didn’t really matter anyway. 
You knew he would explain when they had a plan, just like he had always done before. 
The car came to a stop, and men dressed in bright yellow jackets came pouring out of an entrance you hadn’t recognized, forming a human tunnel. 
Davis turned in his seat to face you. 
“We’re going to go in a different entrance. I’ll guide you, Gabriel and Tomas will flank us,” He explained. “It’s 16 steps to the door. Stadium security will make sure that they’re unobstructed,”
You hummed. “Will you cover my back?”
It wasn’t that you were ashamed to wear your Loves names. 
It actually made you incredibly proud and had a warmth blooming in your chest that was hard to explain. 
But you weren’t quite ready to share that with the world yet. 
You wanted to protect them from your world for as long as you could. To prevent the people who didn’t agree with your family’s policies from hurting them to get to you. 
“My jacket will block you,” Davis assured you, understanding glinting in his eyes. “We’re ready whenever you are,” 
You leaned back into the leather seat, glancing at the little walkway that had been created. Fans pressed against it, and you could imagine the wall of sound that would meet you. 
You flipped your sunglasses down over your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” 
“I’ll get out and open your door,” Your security chief said, reiterating the protocol you always followed when you had to exit your car in a crowd. 
You nodded, never looking away from the window. 
You took a deep breath when the car door opened, letting in the onslaught of screams and cheers. They only got louder when Davis opened your door and held his hand out to help you out of the car. 
He shielded you as soon as your feet were both on the ground, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, directly blocking the names on your back. 
You tucked your face into his chest, closing your eyes at the roar of squeals and cheers that met you. 
You never did like crowds. 
You felt Tomas take up your other side and counted down the steps in your head as they guided you through the crowd. You didn’t look up at the calls of your name, or the blinding flashes of light, or the jostling that your security tried to protect you from. 
This was routine. 
The press didn’t pay for photos when your face wasn’t clearly visible. 
You let out a long breath when the entrance doors closed solidly behind you. 
“It’s over little commander,” Your burly chief of security mumbled into your hair when you didn’t immediately begin to untangle yourself from him, running his hand up and down your back. 
You really didn’t like crowds. 
You sucked in another long breath before carefully pulling away from him. 
“Thank you,” You said, straightening your hair and jersey. Smiling just a bit at the name he had given you after an incident involving your country’s general and an assassin when you were five. 
“I don’t think anyone caught a photo of your jersey, your majesty. The Captain's jacket was covering the lettering,” Gabriel added, glancing out the glass doors. “Though I think it’ll be harder to hide if we leave with guests. We’ll also need extra security,” 
It made you sigh. 
Gabriel was not a bad person, but he was young, and far too serious all of the time. 
He hadn’t learned that you didn’t need to know all of the inner workings of their operation yet, or that you were the one who would dictate what you wanted. 
You hadn’t even decided if your girlfriends would be leaving with you yet, and when you did, Davis would work it out. 
He always figured it out. 
“We’ll cross that bridge later,” Davis said, glaring at the younger guard (they would pull the SUV on the fucking field if that’s what it took), before his eyes returned to you, softening. “First, I believe your attendant is waiting to scan your ticket,”
Your eyes lit up at the prospect, looking past your burly squad towards a very shy looking girl. 
“I can scan you in,” The girl's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting towards your guards before meeting yours again. “Your majesty,” 
You rolled your eyes at the title. 
You hated it as much now as you had when you first learned you would be your fathers successor. As much as when people started using when you were 16 and your coordination date was set for the day you turned 22. 
Davis passed you a paper ticket and nudged you forward. 
It was a superfluous detail that your girlfriends had teased you mercilessly about. 
No one used paper tickets anymore, they said. Everything was mobile, not that you had ever needed an actual ticket. 
You stepped towards the girl, holding out the ticket with a grin. 
She very gently took it, running it under the little scanner. You walked past her after it beeped. 
It was nice to get the full experience, even if it was a bit outdated. 
“We’ll take that back,” Davis said, as the girl turned to throw the scrap of paper away. 
He reached for the ticket, tucking it into his jacket for safe keeping. 
“To the box little commander?” He asked you directly, stepping past the girl. 
You shook your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “I think a little… exploration is in order first. Especially since we’ve never come into the stadium this way before,” 
“Lead the way then,” He matched your smirk, gesturing for you to head down the hallway. “The mural you’re obsessed with is to the left,” 
Your eyes brightened again and you looked down the hallway he had gestured to. 
You would definitely have to check it out before warmups started. 
******
Alessia and Leah were… distracted, even as they passed the ball back and forth. 
Warmups had barely started and they couldn’t help the way their eyes kept falling to the box now occupied by a tall, bald man in a well-tailored suit, his aviators reflecting the field back at them. 
They should have expected it. Tomas was always the first of your personal team to arrive to a location, but usually, you followed closely behind him. 
“The queen has arrived,” Millie chuckled, intercepting the ball Leah had passed towards  Alessia. 
“She’s not queen yet,” Alessia huffed.
“How could I forget? The coronation isn’t for 2 more months,” Millie said, waving her arm dramatically. 
Leah rolled her eyes. “3 more months, actually,”
“And Y/n isn’t exactly counting down the days,” Alessia added, stealing the ball back. “She doesn’t seem too keen on the title,”
“I’m not surprised,” Ella said, catching the ball when Alessia tried to pass it to Leah. “She got mobbed coming into the stadium,”
Leah’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought she was using the player entrance,” 
You had discussed the plan with them in detail during your nightly phone conversation, asking about the location of the locker rooms in relation to the entrance your security wanted you to use. 
They weren’t sure if you intended to surprise them before or after the match, but it didn’t really matter. 
“Apparently not,” Ella said, skirting around the forward's outstretched leg and passing it to Millie. “I saw the clip before we came out here. Looked like they formed a wall of security and then ushered her in the front gate,” 
Leah and Alessia shared a look. 
They knew how much you disliked being in a crowd. 
They could picture you tucked into your security chief’s chest like a small child, trying to hide yourself from the noise of the crowd. It was an image that had been splashed across front pages of newspapers more times than they could (or wanted) to count. It still never failed to break their hearts. 
“I never realized how big her security team was,” Ella mumbled, glancing up at the box again. “Like physically. They’re fucking mountains,” 
More of your team had joined Tomas, all wearing the same black suits and dark aviators, tall, and muscular.
They looked intimidating. Like they could take down any threat that would come at you. 
Neither Alessia nor Leah had any doubt that they would. 
Alessia shrugged. Frankly, they had both been very nervous too until you had actually introduced them to your security. They learned quickly to expect pranks from your security when they weren’t on duty, and that their protectiveness extended to them as well as you when they were. 
Considering all 12 members of your team had given them the shovel talk, they knew you were in very good hands. Hands that looked out for your mental health as well as your physical health. 
“Looks like she only brought half her team,” Leah hummed, counting the men in the suite, noting your missing head of security. He would certainly be wherever you were, and she found it slightly strange you weren’t in the box yet. 
You hated missing warmups. 
But then a group standing near the benches, behind Serina caught her eyes. 
There were 4 tall, burly men surrounded by stadium workers dressed in bright orange vests. 
“Maybe not,” Alessia mumbled, her gaze also falling to the growing crowd behind the benches. “She doesn’t usually try to come down to the field,”
“She’s never had to come through the front door before either,” Leah answered. 
Ella wiggled her eyebrows, shimming between them. “Maybe she wants to do something wild before she has the weight of a country on her back,” 
“She already has that,” Both blonde women said in unison, eyes snapping away from the sea of orange towards the midfielder. 
“She’s had that since her father put her in charge of their trade negotiations,” Alessia added. “And their UK commerce,”
Frankly, you had been taking more and more responsibility for years. Trying to gain the trust of your people so the transition of power was an easy one. A safe one. 
An uncontested one. 
“And she’s been doing a bang-up job,” Leah said, just as Davis appeared in the mix of security next to a blonde man she had never seen before. “She’s actually coming in the field,” 
“You mean we finally get to meet the Queen?” Millie said dramatically, standing on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of you, the ball forgotten at her feet. 
Alessia slapped her stomach. “You’ve met her before. You tried to get her drunk after our Euros win and convince her to fly the England flag on her father’s palace,”
“Details,” Millie rolled her eyes, shoving the striker. “How can she see through the mass of people though?”
“It’s a special formation,” Leah grumbled, pushing Millie, and stealing the ball they had all disregarded as she moved it forward she saw Davis shift and the flash of a pair of aviators. You were certainly on the field. “Designed so she can see out but no one can see her. They’re trying not to draw attention,” 
Ella snorted. “Well, they failed at that,”
It was true. 
The fans in the stands seemed to be clamoring over themselves to see why there was a substantial crowd near the benches. 
Leah and Alessia shared a look. 
They both knew how much you hated attention. It was why you usually stayed in your box and came in through back entrances. They joked you were like a ghost coming to their games, never seen or heard. 
But this. This was different. 
Before they could respond Geriant clapped his hands, “Alright ladies let’s do some through balls on goal. Lineup,”
Leah tapped him the ball and followed Alessia to the back of the line. 
There would be time later to figure out why you had come down in the field. 
Right now they had to focus on beating Australia, especially if they wanted a good game kiss from you after the game. 
You only kissed winners. 
******
You shifted awkwardly as you leaned against the cool, stone wall outside the locker rooms, playing with the identification lanyard around your neck. 
It wasn’t often that you used your… status to get into areas no fans could. That you finagled your way into the tunnel of the stadium after a game. 
You were much more prone to letting your security whisk you in and out so you weren’t seen and no one knew if you were actually there, but today, you had been feeling bold. 
Well, kind of. 
Davis had been the one to suggest that seeing warmups at field level might be fun if you were going to venture to see the mural. 
You had agreed. 
And he had been right. 
You had gotten to chat with Serina about tactics and formations while getting a close-up view of your girlfriends in action, even if it was just warmups. 
You had gone back up to your fancy box for the game, but couldn’t resist Serina’s invitation to wait for the team in the tunnel after. 
That’s how you ended up here, shifting nervously from foot to foot while the players made their mandatory lap around the field. 
It wasn’t really being in the tunnel that had you on edge. It was that Davis had gone to coordinate your motorcade out of the stadium, and left you with Gabriel. You didn’t feel as… safe with the blonde man, and his seriousness was really starting to set you off. 
You would have to very carefully bring it up with Davis later, though you hated doing anything that could potentially make his job harder. 
“Can you, um, not stand so close please?” you mumbled, as he pressed more closely to you as players from the Australian team started to make their way down the tunnels. “I want to say hello to the players,” 
Gabriel shook his head, standing firmly. “They haven’t been checked through security,”
“They just played a match,” You rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you, trying to create some space. “I doubt any of them are smuggling a weapon between here and the locker room, or have Ill intent,” 
They were your friends. People, your girlfriends played with every day. People you had spent a lot of time with. People who saw you as a person and not as a title. They wouldn’t cause you harm. 
“We can’t take that risk, Your Majesty,” Gabriel answered, already pressing back to pin you between his back and the wall, as his head whipped back and forth. 
You shoved him off of you more harshly, stumbling with the force. “I told you to go away. Why don’t you go stand at the front of the tunnel if you’re so worried,” 
You would have face-planted had strong arms not caught you. 
“Whoa there Princess,” Leah’s warm voice chuckled in your ear, using the term of endearment that annoyed you when it came from anyone but your girlfriends. “You only had to fall for me once,”
“Leah,” Your shoulders instantly relaxed at her voice, and you looked up to meet her eyes. “You guys played so well!”
She smiled brilliantly at you, and you leaned up to place a gentle kiss on her lips. 
It only lasted a second before a large hand appeared between you. 
“No physical contact please,” Gabriel said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s policy,” 
You glared at the side of his face. 
You were definitely going to have to talk to Davis about this. 
“What about me pretty girl?” Alessia asked,  materializing to Gabriel’s right. “Do I not deserve a kiss too?
“You definitely do. That goal was a fucking banger,” You said, pulling away from the defender, and throwing out a foot mocking the way Alessia had smashed the ball. “Lee crossed it in and then woosh,”
You threw your arms out, mimicking the goal celebration that Alessia did. The one that reminded you of an airplane, right into her waiting grasp. 
She leaned forward, brushing your nose with her. “You’re adorable,”
You closed the last millimeter, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. 
She tasted like mint gum, and blue Gatorade, and something so… Alessia. She tasted like home. 
“And you look very fit with our names on your back,” Leah added, running her fingers across the bold letters across your shoulders before she wrapped her arms around the two of you. 
You buried your face in Alessia’s chest to hide the red blooming across your cheeks, earning a giggle from both women. 
“Your majesty, I don't feel comfortable with this situation,” Gabriel said, clearing his throat, and stepping into your space. He leaned down and lowered his voice like he thought it would prevent Leah and Alessia from hearing him.  “We’re in too public of a place. It’s not befitting of the crown,”
You froze, your back going rigid. 
It was one thing for him to not understand personal boundaries. For him to be hyper-vigilant. 
You could chalk that up to his… newness. 
But this. This you could not tolerate. 
Your fingers caught Alessia’s top before she could pull away, forcing her to stay pressed against you, as your other hand reached back to hold Leah’s hip. You didn’t need them to move. You didn’t want them to move. 
You took a deep breath before pulling your face out of Alessia’s chest to stare daggers at the bulky, blonde man. 
“Call for backup,” You said, your voice deadly calm. 
He raised an eyebrow at you. “There’s no need. I have it-“ 
“It wasn’t a request,” You cut him off icily. “Call for backup now, or I will do it myself,” 
He paused at your tone, glancing at the teammates and friends that had been on their way to the locker room, also frozen at the foreign chill in your voice. 
It was the tone you saved for meetings with world leaders you didn’t particularly like. Ones with foreign dignitaries who thought they could walk all over you, your family, and your country. 
He took a step back, lowering his voice like he was talking to a child. “Your majesty, I don’t think this is a proper conversation to have with an audience,” 
You weren’t in the mood to be scolded. 
“And I don’t care what you think,” You bit back, letting go of Leah’s hip to reach up to your necklace, pressing the bottom button hidden on the pendant twice. 
The signal that you needed assistance, but it wasn’t emergent or life-threatening. 
Still, within 30 seconds Tomas was rounding the corner near the locker rooms, speed walking towards you. The crowd of white and yellow jerseys parted for him like he was Mosis. 
You were slightly disappointed it wasn’t Davis, but Tomas would do. 
“Little commander,” He nodded his head in greeting, his eyes flickering across the scene before returning to you. “How can I be of assistance,”
You appreciated that he had addressed you first. 
That he acknowledged that you were the one in control here. 
But Gabriel didn’t seem to get that message. 
“Your presence isn’t needed,” The blonde security man huffed, “Her majesty is throwing a temper tantrum,”
Alessia’s fingers tightened around your hips, and you didn’t have to look at her to see the scowl pulling across her lips. Leah’s arms similarly squeezed around your shoulders and you knew daggers were being thrown his way. 
Had this been any other circumstance you were sure the growing crowd of footballers would have oooed. 
Not that you needed them.
You had this all under control. 
“Take Gabriel to the exit,” You said evenly, command and… dominance, radiating through the simple words. “or to the dumpster or the Thames. I don’t really care but get him away from me. He is relieved of his duty,”
The blonde security man sputtered. “You can’t do that. I’m-“
“Actually I can,” You cut him off. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Tomas, please remind Gabriel of the terms of his service,”
Tomas cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. “We serve at the pleasure of our charge, Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”
Your chest puffed a bit at your full title. 
One you generally despised, but it served its purpose here. 
“And you certainly have not… pleasured me. Not that you’re capable,” Your lips turned upwards in a cruel smirk, as Alessia and Leah, and the surrounding crowd didn’t hold in their giggles. “Perhaps you should work on your listening, and little things called consent and common sense,”
“Let’s go,” Tomas caught Gabriel’s arms before he could protest or argue with you, not that there was anything he could say. The taller, balder security man made eye contact with you before he hauled Gabriel away. “Davis and Matthew will be by shortly. I’ve left Carson at the top of the tunnel and I’ll have him perform personal security until they arrive,”
You sent him a stiff nod, standing at your full height until they were out of sight before you let yourself collapse back into Alessia. 
You would never. Could never truly be alone. 
“I fucking hate doing that,” You groaned into her chest, and Leah leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck.
“We know love,” The defender hummed into your soft skin, and Alessia made a sound of agreement, shooing the crowd of football players around you to go about their way.  
“But on the bright side, you did look proper sexy,” Alessia said, gently pinching the skin just beneath the hem of your jersey. “Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”
You couldn’t help the giggle that bugged from your lips at her terrible rendition of Tomas’ heavy accent. The one you worked incredibly hard to suppress.
It had come out slightly in the exchange, the only indicator that English was not your first language. 
It was something that happened when you were annoyed, which was rare in itself. You didn’t like to wield your power, and thankfully, you usually didn’t have to in your personal life. 
“For a second I thought you were going to yell at him in Valyrian,” Leah said, her lips working from the back of your neck up to just behind your ear. 
You hummed. “I try not to do that in mixed company,” 
Despite how much you had pushed against the mold of your upbringing, your impeccable manners could not be changed. 
Plus you knew how much Leah and Alessia loved when you spoke in your native language. How… wound up… it made them. You didn’t want to associate your annoyance with that. Ever. 
Alessia smirked. “So he can’t pleasure you?” 
You rolled your eyes at the change in subject. 
“No. He was only on my team for 3 days, and I wanted to strangle him for most of it,” Your lips pulled up in an impish smirk. “Plus I could tell that he’s never given out a feminominon in his fucking life,” 
Leah mirrored the expression against your neck, and Alessia’s eyes sparkled.
“I think we could definitely show you what we know about feminominons,” Leah said, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. 
 “Would you like to shower with us?”Alessia’s thumb ran over the skin just above your pants. “We promise we won’t bite, “
“Unless you ask nicely,” Leah finished, her teeth grazing over the wet skin she had just kissed. 
It was sometimes scary how they could finish each other's thoughts, though you weren’t convinced that this had been their endgame all along. 
You melted into them, the rest of your annoyance fading. 
“I would love nothing more,” 
They nodded at Carson as they dragged you towards the locker room, the shorter, muscular man shifting to stand by the door, already talking into his earpiece. 
You just needed some time with your girls. 
It’s what you wanted and the security team would respect that and leave you undisturbed. 
They served at your pleasure after all, and so did your girlfriends apparently. 
Well, at least at the moment, they would serve to pleasure you. 
727 notes · View notes
shadowspromise · 11 months
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ghoapy thoughts
Ghost has a stupid crush on you. He swears he’ll deny it till the end of time.
Soap has an enthusiastic crush on you. He makes it painfully obvious.
Ghost has an even stupider crush on Soap. He tells himself every morning not to let his feelings get ahead of his job.
Soap has, yet again, an enthusiastic crush on Ghost. It’s even more obvious, somehow, than his crush on you.
You know that Soap’s down tremendously for Ghost, but you know that he’s also flirting with you. It confuses you, making you wonder if he’s just naturally flirty or if he really likes both of you.
Ghost wakes up every morning, looks in the mirror, gives himself a firm slap across his own face and tells himself to behave. Crushes are stupid and he’s a grown man with a grown man job. He doesn’t have time for his stupid feelings.
Oh, but when it’s just Ghost and Soap at the bar together, after a few too many drinks…
They can’t help but talk about each other, talk about you. They keep buying each other drinks, knowing that at this rate they’ll have to call someone to pick them up.
“Could barely focus during Price’s meeting today. You an’ Y/N wearin’ those tight shirts… drivin’ me up the damn wall…” Ghost rambles, his eyes parallel to Soap’s.
“Ah did it on purpose, ya know ah love distractin’ you…” Soap responds, his accent thicker due to the alcohol. His cheeks are heavily tinted red, both from blushing and the drinking.
“You think Y/N knows what they’re doin’ to us? Think they do it on purpose too?” Ghost replies, smirking from under his mask. He lifts it over his nose to take another drink.
“God, I hope so,” Soap mumbles, rubbing his temples. He can’t even remember how many drinks he’s had tonight.
“You a’ight Johnny? Think we should go?” Ghost asks, intentionally touching Soap’s shoulder as an act of comfort (and seduction).
“Ah’m fuckin’ blootered, ah’m see’in colors when I close my damn eyes… cannae even feel my toes properly…” Soap starts muttering. Ghost only comprehends about half of what he just said but gets the general point.
“I’ll ask someone to get us. We’ll wake up in a whorehouse if we try walkin’ ourselves back…” Ghost pulls out his phone, squinting his eyes at the screen, trying to focus.
He texts Gaz and gets no answer, probably because it’s late and he’s sleeping.
He texts Price and gets the response of “You’re big boys, get yourself back.”
That leaves you. He decides to rethink a nicer message than the “pick johnny and I up cuntbag” he sent to the others.
“Johnny and I are drunk. Would appreciate if you came and walked us back to base.”
Simon mentally gives himself a pat on the back for managing to type all that without sounding condescending or making a dozen typos.
You respond within 15 seconds, to his surprise. Although he knew you were a good boy/girl and were always eager to help.
“Sure thing. Will be there soon ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ”
The little emoticons you send him drives him mad.
“Aye, you think they’re into me? They put a… fuckin’ dog or whatever…” Ghost shows Johnny his phone.
“That’s a bear, mate,” Soap points at the text.
“I think it’s a dog.”
“Well you’re wrong, ye braw bastard.”
The bar is just about a ten minute walk from base and you’ll be there any minute, so they spent their “alone” time talking about you (and the things they’d do to you)
When you arrive, Soap gets overly excited and falls over. Ghost tries with every nerve in his body not to laugh, attempting to keep up the cold and stoic personality for you.
You guide them back to base, stopping Soap from stumbling onto the road. Ghost is much more physically put together, but mentally he’s having an aneurysm. He’s staring at Johnny’s ass whenever he has the chance and can physically feel himself get warmer when your arm brushes against his.
At base, you attempt to push them into their separate rooms but they refuse. Ghost and Soap give one drunken look at each other and it’s seconds before they’re cornering you.
That night, all three of you had your dreams come true.
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lovlidollie · 7 days
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these pics are just the epitome of frat!rafe. he’s constantly manspreading whenever he’s seated, douchey cap either pulled low on his head or flipped backwards. you can always find him wearing a white wifebeater or a tom ford polo, rollie proudly displayed on his wrist. he knows he’s hot and he knows how to use it to his advantage ! he’s such a slut !!! literally ran through lmao there’s not one girl he hasn’t messed with.
he’s got one of three hairstyles; a buzz, an undercut with greasy bangs, or a mullet. and you best believe he pulls all three of them off. frat!rafe is one of those jerks that shows up at sorority bikini carwash fundraisers so he can wolf-whistle at them and wink as he signals them to call him.
vocab consists of diff variations of “bro,” “dude,” “my guy,” “word,” “yo,” and he most definitely overuses the word “like.” he’s the type of guy to call professors by their first name, disrupt the class, and then beg for better grades in the middle of said disrupted class.
prolific snapchat user. snapscore is atrocious and he has streaks going with at least 7 girls at any given time. sends out a ‘u up?’ text at least twice a week. sometimes he’ll leave a girl on delivered for hours - sometimes days - just because he can. when he finally replies it’s usually a blurry snap of his face or a shameless thirst trap with a “mb was busy”.
when a girl finally realises that he’s playing her, he just laughs it off. if they’re upset he says, “i was just messing around,” or “you knew what you were getting into.” he doesn’t take responsibility for any emotional damage because in his head, he never promised anyone anything.
his ig captions .. are something. obviously there’s the infamous ‘grind never stops,’ and a ‘#blessed’. posts gym mirror selfies where he’s flexing his abs, pecs or biceps in a way that seems casual, but in reality he’s spent 20 minutes trying to find the perfect angle and lighting. captions them with things like ‘gains,’ or ‘rest days are for pussies’.
rides around in his obnoxiously loud truck, revving constantly and disturbing everyone in the area. he’s always blasting rap music at full volume, and of course he’s modified the vehicle. the truck’s lifted, with big off-road wheels, a custom exhaust, and a tint that borders on illegal. frat!rafe takes pride in parking it across 2 spots, and he’s always talking about its specs; “blah blah this much horsepower blah blah v8 engine blah blah”. it’s a sore sight at all the parties with the bed of the truck more often than not being used to perform keg stands.
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koqabear · 1 year
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Wish Me Luck?
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♫: Wake Up In The Sky, Bruno Mars
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“In which working with these two makes your life impossible— because they’re annoying, and won’t leave you alone— you try your best to ignore them but sometimes, it’s too tempting.”
hueningkai x fem!reader x taehyun
Genre: pwp, rockstar au, makeup artist!reader, smut
Word count: 6.2K
Warnings: genuinely like.. none, i think. 
Smut Warnings: dom!tae, dom!huening, sub!mc, threesome, unprotected sex, they’re both pervs sorry, use of mirrors(?), pet names (pretty, doll, cutie, etc.) dry humping, slight marking, handjob, fingering, hair pulling, spanking, praise, masturbation, slight exhibitionism?, multiple orgasms, creampie(s), lmk if i should add anything!
Notes: part of a rockstar!txt mini series. lowkey gave up on formatting so if shows don’t tell me. anyways! happy birthday to my bf huening 😁 again this was like… barely edited so it’s a little uhh… idk. enjoy, hopefully..
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There are many perks that come with the rockstar lifestyle— money, clothes, fame, women.
Taehyun tries to take advantage of it all— and he has, though he finds that the last perk is reserved for someone more… special. 
Taehyun is currently in his favorite place to be before a concert— the makeup station, of course. This could mean many things for him; a chance for him to rest, a relaxing time to get his hair and makeup done, able to get perfectly dolled up just for him to ruin it all during his shows. 
But that’s not the reasoning at all— rather, his reasoning lies with the pretty makeup artist who, unfortunately, is not tending to him today. 
It takes a bit of enjoyment out of the experience— however, he will say that he’s not complaining about the view he’s getting now, watching the way you tend to Kai and touch his face as though he’s made of glass with a fond smile; before he can control himself, his eyes fall to the cute skirt you’re wearing today, a tug of guilt hitting his stomach at the way he feels slightly disappointed upon the realization that they have built-in safety shorts— what can he say? It was always a total accident when he looked over to you bent over, pretty ass on display as you worked diligently on the member assigned. 
Hueningkai, Taehyun notices, definitely isn’t faring well with your proximity to him. Unlike Taehyun, who’s always dying to get his hands on you and keep you to himself, Hueningkai has always preferred to watch from a distance— so to have you here, taking over his senses with the alluring perfume you use and feeling your delicate fingers brush against his skin as you do his makeup— well, safe to say Hueningkai is practically meditating to not pop a boner then and there. 
“___, have you been busy? I barely see you around anymore,” Taehyun asks, peeking up from his phone and over to the next chair where you continue to meddle with Hueningkai, standing back to observe your work before you’re jumping at the sound of your name. 
“Well, I’ve been assigned to the rookie group the company debuted, you know,” you sigh out, having had this conversation more times than you can remember as you reach to brush away a stray hair from Hueningkai’s forehead; you watch as his eyes flutter shut and his brows twitch, and you wonder if you may have irritated him as you press your lips together. 
“That’s unfair…” Taehyun pouts softly, pretending as though his phone is much more interesting as he continues to sneak glances at you, eyes darkening at how cute you look while concentrating, not paying attention to Taehyun’s words as you begin applying lip tint to Hueningkai, “They’re taking my makeup artist away from me, I don’t like this one bit.”
“I’m not your makeup artist,” you fuss, sighing in exasperation as you take a step back from Hueningkai; you tell him to open his eyes as you take in the final result, smiling softly in satisfaction as you observe your work on him— looking at Taehyun, you cross your arms, frowning at the way you catch him staring at you already, “I’m the company’s makeup artist. Who I get assigned to work on is entirely up to them, so I don’t get why you’re acting like this right now.”
“Is it wrong to want a pretty girl to do my makeup?” He asks, and your face twists as you watch his current makeup artist throw an incredulous glance your way— just as you’re about to turn and leave, you’re surprised to find Hueningkai grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. 
“My hair,” he mumbles quietly, so soft you almost missed it— you lean down to try and hear him better, unaware of the way his eyes dart down to your low neckline and your lips that pout in concentration, “Can you fix it? It’s… different now.”
As far as you’re concerned, he looks completely fine; you’re quick to tell him that as well, only to see as he insists that it was different before you worked on his makeup. 
“Well if you want, I can go get your hairdresser—“ you begin, only to stop short at the feeling of Hueningkai’s grip tightening slightly. 
“But you can do it, no?”
God, these two were impossible. 
Their behavior was nothing new to you, and you oftentimes found yourself the victim of teasing as your coworkers poked fun at the way the two seemed to be attached to you like lost puppies— you always tried to refute such claims, but the way they constantly wanted you around them really didn’t help. 
“You can do it, ___,” Taehyun says, and you feel a bit bad for his makeup artist as he moves to look at you, “Gives us an excuse to keep you here a bit longer.”
Out of the two, Taehyun is much more blunt— but that doesn’t mean you’re used to it, feeling your face grow hot at his words as you attempt once more to run away— it’s all in vain of course, because Hueningkai is tugging you back and giving you a look that almost makes your knees buckle.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this.
“Please.”
Nothing about that is a request. He looks up at you with lidded, dazed eyes, and you find yourself complying hesitantly the longer he looks at you like he’ll devour you any second. You don’t even know what he wants his hair to look like— so you go with his usual ruffled look, his long dark hair soft under your fingers as you stand in front of him and run through the locks with mousse. 
You try to keep a straight face the whole time; even when Taehyun continues to make baiting comments at you, complimenting you with a deep purr as he tries to get your attention back on him— even as you feel the way Hueningkai can’t take his eyes off you, much bolder than usual as you bite your lip and hover over him, quick hands desperate to finish his styling. 
Your hands freeze in his hair as you feel something warm on the back of your thigh. 
That something warm serves as Hueningkai’s hand, resting on your skin as he simply continues to look up at you innocently, chewing his gum and tilting his head as though to ask what’s wrong? 
You try to contain the shiver that runs through you as his thumb begins to softly caress your skin, venturing under the cloth of your safety shorts for a moment before he’s moving it back down.
“Something wrong?” Taehyun drawls out, and a glance at him shows that his makeup artist has left— it’s just you three, and your brows knit together as you take in the way his makeup isn’t done yet, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
You’re shaken out of your reverie at his words; putting the finishing touches, you step away from Hueningkai, feeling the way his hand is reluctant to leave your skin, his arm falling limply at his side as he stares at you with hungry curiosity. 
“I think I’m done here,” you breathe out, attempting to hide your shaky hands as you place them behind your back, “Make sure you’re changed and ready in time for the show.”
Bowing politely, you make your way to the exit— only to be stopped the moment you pass Taehyun, an exasperated sound leaving you involuntarily as he takes your hand and tugs you back to him. 
“Are you done?” he asks, sparkly eyes not enough to conceal his mischief as he tilts his head to the side, “There’s nothing missing here?”
Of course something is missing. Taehyun doesn’t have his lip tint on, but you refuse to point it out as you hum softly, pretending to be in thought for a second before you finally shake your head no.
“No?” he pouts— he’s then puckering his lips, nodding his head toward you and sending you a kiss as he smiles coyly, “Are you sure?”
“You seem to be missing…” you grit out, watching as he raises his brows expectantly, as though encouraging you to finish your train of thought, “Your lip…tint.”
“Oh. You think so?” he asks, looking back at the mirror and swiping a finger across his lips before he hums, “Could you do it for me, please? I’ve always loved how you left my lips all pretty.”
You’re inhaling slowly to not turn on your heels and run away— not because you don’t want to do your job, but because you’re anxious about what might happen if you’re left alone in a room with these two for a moment longer; all you know is that if the way they look at you serves as any indicator, then they’re definitely up to no good.
“My lips always look like candy with the combo you use,” he continues, watching as you go to the vanity to search for the products you usually use for him— after a moment, you’re turning to him, products in one hand a small lip brush in the other— your eyes meet his, and you’re slightly startled with the way he suddenly leans forward, eerily close to you as his eyes flicker down to the way your lips part in a silent gasp, “Don’t you think so?”
“I’ve never thought of it like that,” you mutter swiftly, immediately getting to work in hopes that Taehyun can just shut up for once— he does, but you’re still left at the mercy of his intense stare, trying to pretend as though his proximity isn’t enough to make you feel nervous.
“You look really pretty today ___,” It’s Hueningkai’s turn to torment you— if you weren’t so focused on Taehyun, you would’ve scoffed, opting instead to let out a noncommittal hum instead. 
“Are you doing anything after the show?”
He says that as you’re finally stepping away from Taehyun; silently, you’re happy for the timing of his words, because you know that you would’ve messed up Taehyun’s makeup from your surprise— which would’ve meant you staying longer to fix it. 
“No,” you say, refusing to elaborate even if their curious stares silently plead you to— turning around, you continue to ignore them as you put your stuff away, pretending as though you weren’t rushing in hopes to leave quicker. 
“Taehyun and I are going out for drinks after to celebrate the end of the tour,” He says quietly, and you make the mistake of looking up at him through the mirror— he’s looking at you of course, though the way his dark makeup only makes his eyes look more intense doesn’t help you at all— softly, he smiles. 
“You should come with. Our treat.”
“Oh, I— I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a bother,” you stutter out, your nonchalant demeanor beginning to slip the moment you see them stand up behind you, shaky hands rushing to zip your makeup case shut, “I should really get going now, you two still need to change—“
“Yeah, but what’s the rush?” You’re fucking trapped— they stand on either side of you, looming dangerously and looking at you as though you’re nothing but a treat for them to devour— you can feel their breaths fanning on each side of your neck as you attempt to close yourself off pathetically, trying to take a step back before you feel two hands on you— one on the small of your back, the other on your hip as they both push you back against the vanity; the startled yelp you let out is embarrassing, your hands flying down to support yourself from how firmly they push you forward. 
“We have well over an hour to finish getting ready,” Taehyun breathes out, lips brushing against your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh, “And that’s a lot of time, isn’t it?”
Hueningkai hums in agreement; his hand is the one on your hip as it rubs soothing circles, leaning down to where you hang your head and sending you a misleading smile.
“We should do something to pass the time.”
God, were they always this close? They’re filling your senses and making you dizzy, your hands beginning to ache from how hard you’re gripping the edge of the vanity as you simply gulp in response. Their lips are soft and fucking sticky from the gloss you just put on them, leaving kiss marks along your skin as they kiss you softly, mumbling compliments and praise that you can barely get through your head from how dizzy you feel. 
“Do you know that we try to request you for every show?” Taehyun asks, watching the way your eyes flutter shut as Hueningkai begins to trail kisses down your neck, open-mouthed and sultry as he nips at your skin teasingly, “Some bullshit about you knowing our complexion best— don’t get us wrong, you do, but…”
“You’re like a lucky charm,” Hueningkai finishes for him, pulling away and bringing a hand up to grab at your chin, tilting you to look at him as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “The show won’t go well if our pretty makeup artist isn’t here with us.”
You whimper— and shit, it’s humiliating, your cheeks growing hot immediately after as you wish nothing more than to dig a hole for yourself then and there— but oh, their words are so hypnotizing to you, speaking about you like you’re something they can’t live without, touching you like they’re starved and desperate to get a taste.
And judging by the way they look at you, they definitely are. 
“Sometimes… we wonder if it’s enough, just getting a look at you before we go on stage,” Hueningkai says, and it’s Taehyun’s turn to nod along and leave teasing touches, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt as he noses at your throat, taking in your scent with a satisfied sigh.
“I think it’d be nice if you wished us luck tonight,” Hueningkai says, tilting his head as he gives you a puppy-eyed look, “Don’t you wanna?”
Fuck. You can’t think straight, not when they’re taking up your space, unable to keep their hands and lips off you as they wait not-so-innocently for your response. Shutting your eyes, you try to move past the warm and welcoming feeling of their hands to think.
“This is dangerous,” you finally spit out, biting your lip at the way they immediately back off, “You could get in trouble— I could lose my job.”
“Oh please,” Taehyun scoffs, sitting back against the vanity as he crosses his arms, “The company doesn’t care about what we do in our private life— you’ve seen the way the others can get with their little groupies, right?”
You mull over his words for a second; it’s no secret that this band is very active and reckless, though you suppose the company has taken advantage of that and began to use it as their image halfway through their career— at least, that must be the case if they’re able to advance on you so boldly, the rest of your coworkers unfazed by the whole situation. 
“But— my job—?”
“You think none of these other people that work here haven’t fooled around with their groups?” Taehyun asks, the incredulous smile on his face quickly turning to a pout as he coos at the innocent, wide-eyed look you give him, “They know how to keep a secret, pretty— so do we.”
This is ridiculous— even more so because you find yourself considering it, quickly shaking your head upon the sobering realization— though, the two are keen to notice the way you have yet to try and scurry away from them like always. 
“Don’t you feel tired of being so uptight all the time?” Huening asks, your head snapping up to watch as he places his hands on your shoulders, hovering behind you as he massages them gently, “We could help you relax. Have some fun, even.”
The two try to keep it cool the moment you lean into Hueningkai’s touch— though, you can still pick up on the way Taehyun’s eyes widen and Hueningkai’s hands freeze for just a second, your eyes threatening to shut from the way you remain too shy to gauge their reactions. 
“Won’t someone come in?”
In response, they laugh— poor thing, they think, glancing back at the door that got locked long ago, if they were finally going to get their hands on you, the last thing they would do is allow someone else to see. 
“No one will come in right now— we’re supposed to be changing, aren’t we?” Hueningkai says, smiling against your skin as he continues, “It’d be an invasion of privacy to try and come in now.”
They grin at the way you remain silent, clearly lost in thought by their words.
“Want us to treat you good?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on your waist before he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you for your hard work?”
Finally you break. 
“Please.”
Taehyun is a messy kisser— though, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised, always more eager out of the two to get his hands on you as he begins to kiss you with abandon— his hand cupping your jaw to keep you close, tongue prodding your mouth open and sharp teeth sinking into your plush lips teasingly; behind you, Hueningkai has moved his hands to your hips, pulling you back and forcing your back to arch as you feel him begin to rut his cock into you slowly, dark eyes taking in the way you only whine and moan under their touch. 
“Fuck, let me use those pretty hands, baby,” Taehyun sighs against your lips, guiding you down to his hard bulge and smiling against your lips the moment you begin to palm him; you’re slow and unsure with your movements, but that only makes Taehyun needier as he begins to rut his length against your palm, eager to get stimulation as he places his hand on top of yours to guide you to hold him through his sweats.
“Is playing hard to get fun for you?” Hueningkai asks, his voice low and rough as he plays with the hem of your shorts, pulling at the waistband before letting it go and allowing it to snap against your skin, “I can feel you soaking through your shorts— so fucking needy, why have you been avoiding us so long?”
You don’t have half the brain to answer that question; not when Taehyun has slipped your hand under his sweats and Hueningkai currently pulls down your skirt, leaving you exposed as you hold Taehyun’s cock and allow him to fuck into your first with shaky breaths against your lips. 
Trying to avoid them was such a stupid decision— because if it meant you could have these two boys like this sooner, drunk off your touch and desperate to take even more from you, you would’ve given in to their cheeky comments and shameless flirting long ago. 
Hueningkai’s fingers are slender and long as they glide up and down your slit; pressing against your panties, taking in the way you’ve soaked through them with a deep satisfaction as he lets out a breathy laugh. His middle and ring finger press at your entrance, listening to the way you whine and almost letting out a groan at the way you wiggle your hips and press them back in hopes of feeling him inside you. 
“Waited so long for this,” Hueningkai breathes out, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down sloowwly, watching as you whine impatiently before you’re stepping out of your garments— You pull away from Taehyun, staring down at the way he bucks into your fist and missing the way he bites his lip to suppress a laugh at the sight of Hueningkai pocketing your soaked panties. 
“Wanted to fuck you the moment you got assigned to us— our pretty makeup artist,” Hueningkai sighs, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades before he’s fucking his fingers into you, jaw clenching at the way you suck in his fingers and tighten around him pathetically, the wet sounds that come from his shallow thrusts enough to have your head hanging with pleasure. 
“Do you…” you sigh, letting out a soft whine as Taehyun takes a handful of your hair and forces your head back up, clearing your throat in a weak attempt to continue as the said man now begins to kiss and suck softly at your neck, careful to not leave any marks, “Do this to… fuck, every crew member you think is attractive? Mess with them shamelessly and try to corner them so you can finally fuck them? …Hmm?”
Hueningkai’s index finger is tracing your entrance teasingly— he laughs softly at your comment, choosing not to say anything as he stretches you out with a third finger instead; he’s curling his fingers and grinding his hand into your cunt, taking in your expression with hungry eyes and noting the places that make your legs shake. 
“You think we do this to just anyone?” Taehyun asks, brows furrowed as he pulls away, taking in the way you wince at his appearance— more specifically, his lip tint that has smudged all over his lips and chin and onto your skin, “Baby, I hope you realize that you’re the first person we’ve ever pulled this shit on.”
“And the last,” Hueningkai chimes in, looming over your shoulder as he bites at your earlobe teasingly, his other hand circling your waist to rub at your clit, “We plan to keep you.”
God. You hope he didn’t notice the way you clenched pathetically from his words, but judging by the way he laughs breathily and fucks his fingers harder into you, he definitely did. 
“Shit, what aren’t these hands good for?” Taehyun asks, watching the way you pump along his length and reach up to swipe the precum that leaks from his tip, spreading it along the rest of his length as you watch the way your hand glistens and becomes messy from your actions, “You have no idea how much I thought about this— always felt so guilty watching as you did my makeup so innocently, unaware that I’d give up my job if it meant I could— I could bend you over this vanity and fuck you good.”
“Did you ever fantasize about us?” Hueningkai teases, only to be surprised by the way you nod your head frantically, eyes shutting from embarrassment as you grind your hips back into him, just to get a feel of his cock against your ass, “Yeah? What’d you think about? Maybe we could make it happen.”
You shake your head no— you’re reluctant to spew out your fantasies as easily as the two are, but that only proves to be a mistake from the way Hueningkai’s fingers slip out of you, instead landing down harshly on your ass as you jump at the sudden feeling. 
“What, too shy to tell us?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on top of your own and making you slow to a stop as he examines your face, “Then again, you’ve always been a shy little thing— it’s your charm, you know.”
You can only let out a pathetic whimper at that; Taehyun is shaking your hand off him, your eyes fluttering open as you watch him tuck himself back in, giving you a sly smile before he’s sitting back down in his chair— Hueningkai is taking a step back, but it’s only to bend you over as he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction— nodding to Hueningkai, Taehyun grins, his dimple poking at his cheek as he speaks.
“You first, Kai? I’ll give you the honors for being so patient.”
Your mouth is falling open the moment you feel his tip glide along your entrance— going up and down, clearly teasing you as he allows your wetness to collect on his dick, forcing you to listen to the sounds as you let out a shaky sigh, staring down at the vanity and your tense hands that are curled into fists— slowly, he begins to push into you, enjoying the way you bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your sounds, failing to do so as Hueningkai resorts to the next best thing— his hand is firm against your mouth as he holds your head up, your eyes meeting his through the mirror as you watch him begin to fuck you slowly.
The stretch has you blinking away tears of pleasure— if it weren’t for Hueningkai keeping you quiet, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the attention of the rest of the crew, your sounds muffled against the palm of his hand as your body begins to jolt forward from his pace, the vanity shaking slightly from the impact. 
“Fuck,” Hueningkai grunts, brows furrowed together as he watches himself disappear inside you, “So perfect. Pussy was made for me, look how good you take it.”
The two only laugh as you let out a weak whine at the praise— they’ve got you figured out good, and you’re meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror as you catch him staring at you, stroking his cock at a slow pace as he simply gives you a teasing grin.
“Why don’t you watch the way Huening fucks you, pretty?” He asks, and your eyes flicker back to the sight he’s talking about, meeting Huenigkai’s eyes as he simply sends you a coy smile, “You look so perfect like this— bent over the desk like a pretty doll, perfect for us to use… isn’t that right?”
Before you can moan out a muffled response, a sharp knock on the door takes your attention; you’re jolting to try and get Huening off you in a hurry, but the boy merely retaliates by pulling you back against him, colliding against his chest and letting out a weak whimper at the feeling of him rutting his hips up into you— watch, he growls into your ear, grinning with satisfaction as you immediately follow his orders.
“Yeah?” Taehyun calls out, his tone much too casual for someone who’s watching his fellow band member fuck the cute staff member the two have been pining for. 
“Have you seen ___ anywhere? The makeup artist?” It’s Soobin, you all realize, your reaction of horror greatly contrasting the way the two merely smile casually at the realization, “They’ve been looking for her, and I thought you two would know where she might be.”
“Uhhhhm…” Taehyun draws out, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches the way Hueningkai continues to fuck you, fingers digging into your cheeks as his eyes widen at the way you’ve begun to squirm from his grip, your orgasm approaching as you try to grind your hips in search for more stimulation. 
“If we knew where she was at, we’d probably be there bothering her,” Taehyun jokes, a crooked smile on his face as he listens to the way Soobin scoffs on the other side, “But seriously, we’re changing right now. She finished our makeup a while ago, we haven’t seen her.”
A moment passes; you think you might explode from how hard you’re trying to hold back your orgasm, but Hueningkai seems to be hellbent on making you cum from the way his free hand goes to circle your clit, your mouth falling open as you practically shake from the feeling. 
“Well…” another pause— Soobin sighs, and Taehyun can already picture the man running a hand through his hair on the other side of the door, “Let me know if you find her.”
After a moment, his footsteps fade entirely— it’s only then that Hueningkai bends you over once more, grabbing your hips and using this as leverage to fuck you back into him as you whimper that you’re close— seconds after, you’re squeezing Hueningkai so hard he thinks his cock might slip out, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs simply tremble from the intensity of it all. 
“Did that get you off, baby?” Hueningkai murmurs, his hips beginning to stutter as he watches you lay against the desk, your cheek pressed against the wood as you only let out weak whines in response, “Knowing we were about to get caught? Is that what made you cum, cutie?”
In a pathetic attempt to dodge his question, you bury your head in your arms— the man behind you simply laughs, pressing on the small of your back and grinding into you slowly, biting his lip at the sight. 
“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up and have it leak down your legs, making people wonder just where you disappeared to for so long?” frantically, you nod; you’re pressing your ass back against him, trying to fuck back into him as Hueningkai only groans at the sight— moments later, you’re practically biting through your lip from the feeling of him filling you up so well, trying his best to fuck his cum back into you the moment it begins to drip back out. 
A moment passes where the two of you simply remain still, attempting to regain your breaths— then, you hear sounds of shuffling and footsteps, and you’re meekly raising your head from your arms to watch as Taehyun approaches the two of you with a teasing smile.
“You should go get cleaned up and change,” Taehyun says, tapping your ass with a smile, “It’s my turn now, isn’t that right baby?”
Hueningkai rolls his eyes at the other’s antics— then, he’s slowly pulling out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s grabbing your face and bringing you up for a kiss— it’s slow and sensual, his plump lips addicting as he sneaks his tongue in for a taste of you— he’s reluctant to pull away, and only does so when you grip his shirt in your hands weakly and whine petulantly in his mouth— pulling away, he’s sending you a soft smile, taking in the sight of your shining and swollen lips before he’s telling you I’ll be right back— Taehyun rolls his eyes at his words. 
“Tell me,” Taehyun begins, bending you over once more and keeping his head next to yours, encouraging you to hold eye contact with him as he smiles softly— his index and middle finger are slowly massaging up and down your slit, and you let out a weak whimper at the feeling of him gathering the cum that’s leaking out of you before he’s pushing it back in slowly, “What would you fantasize about? I’d love to try it out on you.”
He won’t do anything until he hears your confession— a sign that you really did want them all along, forcing himself to tease you instead as he takes in the way you begin to break slowly, your hips attempting to chase pleasure, only to be stopped by Taehyun’s firm grip on your hip. 
“I could do so many things to you,” he mutters softly, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder before he continues, “All you have to do is tell me.”
Fuck, where do you even begin? All the things you’ve ever thought about these two boys were reserved for the dark hours of the night when you couldn’t control your wandering mind, never to be revealed as you always told yourself you’d take this attraction to your grave— but now, as you feel Taehyun’s fingertips continuously dip into your entrance teasingly, able to feel the way some of Hueningkai’s cum has already run down your thighs, you really can’t be blamed for the way Taehyun’s sparkling doe eyes are able to extract the words from you without a second thought.
“Thought of riding you while I did your makeup,” you whimpered out pathetically, the confession enough to make your face feel like it was on fire— Taehyun, however, thinks the image might just make him cum on the spot, so he doesn’t have it in him to be apologetic as he quickly guides you back to his makeup chair and makes you hover over him.
“Well? What’re you waiting for?” He asks breathlessly, straddling his lap and staring down at him with wide eyes as he keeps his hands on your waist, having yet to find release as he feels his cock straining painfully against his sweats, “Now’s your chance, cutie.”
You stare at Taehyun— at his smudged makeup, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes that are blown open with need— and nod meekly, your hand reaching to take him out before you’re lining him up with your entrance, brows furrowing slightly as you properly take in his size.
That does little to hinder you; the way you sink on Taehyun is fucking painfully slow, and the said man is cursing in your ear as he feels the way you clench around him, your and Hueningkai’s release already coating his dick and making a mess of the chair as you stare at him with bleary eyes. 
“Don’t you need to fix my makeup?” Taehyun asks, his voice a bit strained from the effort to not pound into you recklessly— cluelessly, you nod, your expression making Taehyun let out a breathy laugh, “Do what you need to— I’ll do all the hard work, pretty thing.”
You’re unsure of what he may mean until he’s nodding back at the makeup case behind you— letting out a soft oh, you reach for your supplies, shaky hands taking what you need before you’re turning back to Taehyun. 
His hands are on the swell of your ass, smiling fondly at you before he begins to buck his hips up into you— softly at first, giving you the illusion that he’ll actually let you work, then becoming rougher as he watches the way your expression breaks, coherence leaving your eyes as you simply look at him with bleary, clueless eyes— your actions are oh so slow as you try to touch up on his makeup, trying your best to not make things worse than they already are— but the task seems to be impossible with the way Taehyun fucks you, biting his lip and guiding your hips up and down to get you to ride him as well, already noticing a second orgasm building up from the way you help him out eagerly. 
“Tyun,” you whimper out, makeup supplies in your fists as you place them firmly on his chest, “This isn’t working— I can’t… ah…!”
You’re interrupted mid-sentence as you’re finally coming undone on top of him— the makeup supplies in your hands dig into your skin from how hard you grip onto them, a weak, choked moan escaping you as Taehyun only continues to fuck you through it, not slowing down even after you’ve ridden out your high, going back to whining that you can’t do it, it’s too hard— too much.
“Yes you can,” he grins, taking in the way you only shake your head with satisfaction, “Okay then, can you hold out until I cum then? Can you be good for me, pretty girl?”
You don’t hesitate to nod at that; it has Taehyun laughing before it’s choked off into a moan, finally able to use you to his liking as he begins to fuck you rougher— shit… you hear him groan, and one look at him is enough to tell you that he’s staring at the sight in the mirror behind you— taking in how pretty you look as you bounce on his cock, hands desperately holding onto him as you tuck your head into his shoulder— The feeling of your lips sucking absentmindedly at his skin is enough to set him off, bottoming out inside you and groaning at the way his cum spurts inside you, barely able to stay in from how full you already are. 
Gradually, his pace slows down to nothing but a slow grind— you’re attempting to regain your breath once you finally sit up, still perched prettily on his cock as you begin to touch up his makeup with shaky hands. 
“Hmm? That’s unfair,” Hueningkai’s sudden voice has your head snapping up, looking to where he stands as he taps a finger at his collarbone, “Why didn’t I get one of those?”
Your eyes widen as you’re turning back to Taehyun at break-neck speed— sure enough, you’ve left a mark, and you can already feel your stomach sinking at the thought of having to cover that up. 
“Relax, our outfits are pretty covered,” Taehyun scoffs, reading your expression with a playful roll of his eyes, “But I wouldn’t really mind having others see it.”
“No fair, can I get one?” Hueningkai pouts, even more so when you deny him shyly, focusing on your task and pretending as though you’re currently not sitting firmly on Taehyun’s cock with both their cum leaking out of you.
“Baby,” Hueningkai calls out softly, making you turn your head as he captures you in another kiss— it’s even messier than last time, which you really didn’t think was possible as you’re left panting for breath once he pulls away, your eyes widening at the lopsided grin he sends you. 
“Fix my makeup next?”
Fuck, they’ll miss their damn show at this point. 
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choiyawnzjun · 9 months
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previous part
pairing ; nerdychurchboy!jake x afab!reader
sypnosis ; the nerd at church isn’t quite as innocent as you think.
genre ; smut
wc ; 1835
warnings ; begging, dry humping, degradation, handcuffs ( jake ), handjob/blowjob??
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after that day in the church, jake had been teasing you A LOT and whenever you’d try initiate something he always had to act innocent and oblivious, he knew what he was doing to you and you absolutely hated it. it was so frustrating.
however, one day, your parents wanted you to drop something off for them at jake’s house. you thought this was the perfect opportunity to see jake, well you’ll see i guess. but, when you arrived, it was just his parents, jake was nowhere to be found, his parents were in a hurry to go somewhere so they let you in to place the stuff down and just left you in the house alone.
you know you should’ve just left right away after dealing with whatever it was you were dealing with but you really needed to go to the bathroom. while you were looking for the bathroom, you walked past a room. jake’s room. now, you also know you shouldn’t be sneaking into people’s rooms while they’re not home but you couldn’t help yourself. he had something in his room that caught your eyes.
handcuffs.
why the hell would he have handcuffs in his room? especially out in the open..
you went into his room to pick up the handcuffs and try find out why jake had them. maybe they have some secret thing on them? by the time you even reached them, you heard the front door open and footsteps immediately ran up the stairs. you panicked and didn’t know what to do so you unconsciously hurried underneath his bed, your heart was thumping rapidly and you regretted staying in the house for longer.
the person finally reached his room. jake. shit, why did he have to come home now? what you found a bit weird was that jake walked straight over to the mirror on one side of the room and took off his shirt. oh my god. well, you weren’t expecting this, of course. how many times did this guy go to the gym? he definitely goes often for sure.
after staring at his sculpted body for a bit too long, you were about to shift your eyes to his face but he was already placing himself down on the bed which made your eyes widen slightly. but what made you even more shocked was when he unzipped his pants and…
“___… oh my god.” he breathily groaned. you obviously couldn’t see what he was doing but you so badly wanted to. you didn’t want him thinking of you as a creep though. little did you know, your phone wasn’t turned off.
PING!
oh shit. your eyes widened, panic stricken. you froze under the bed as jake suddenly stopped. rustling of clothes filled your eyes as you felt the mattress of the bed lift slightly above you. you shut your eyes, pursing your lips together. this was so embarrassing.
“___?” jake said from the right side of the bed. you didn’t really want to open your eyes since it would make you more embarrassed.
“___, why are you… under my bed?” he questioned, you finally decided to get out from under his bed and stood up, both of you on either side of the bed. he put his sweatpants back up but they were sagging off on the right side of his side.
“um..” you trailed off since you had no excuse whatsoever. this was so awkward.
“i don’t know.” you shrugged, face heating up every second.
“why are you even in my house?” he questioned once again, you noticed his face turning into a tint of pink, probably because he knows you definitely heard him jerking off and thinking about you.
awkward silence.
you avoided eye contact with him since you were too embarrassed but you couldn’t help it and look down, he was wearing GREY sweatpants. GREY. it’s not your fault, you can’t help yourself. your eyes shifted down towards his begging boner that slightly twitched when you looked down.
you quickly looked away again. jake suddenly scoffed and you glanced up at him, he was running his hand through his hair, the smirk that was displayed on his beautiful face made you want to faint, his teeth glinting towards you.
“so you’re really that desperate huh?” he scoffed again, putting his hands into his pockets and staring at you with a grin. you realised there was something different about jake’s face, you thought that it was maybe cause his glasses were off but you realised his eyes changed.
a mixture of lust and passion were in his eyes. you were turned on right now. well, you didn’t want to admit that earlier anyway..
“what? what do you mean?” you acted innocent, laughing nervously, trying hard not to look down again.
“oh? you don’t remember that time in church?” he cocked an eyebrow up, still having that smug grin on his stupid face.
“no… what do you mean?” you nervously laughed again, you hated this, you’ve wanted him so bad for weeks yet you were too embarrassed to admit it. definitely not like this. you wanted to at least be in a normal situation before this, like maybe hanging out or something but not you hiding under his bed.
“oh okay, then i guess you don’t wanna continue th-..” you cut him off, you were too desperate now, you were having sudden flashbacks of what happened between you two in the church attic, you hadn’t felt that good in so long. maybe ever.
“no please! i want you so bad right now.” you begged, walking around to him and looking up, eyes also begging for him to make you feel good.
“mmmh, maybe another time, i’m too tired now.” he teased, pretending to yawn and laid down on his bed, his sculpted body on full display, god you wanted to ride him.
“no, jake please.” you climbed onto his lap, grinding down onto his hard dick, fabric separating the both of you.
“jesus, fuck, you’re such a disgusting, desperate whore, no?” you were still rolling onto him, his dick twitching underneath you, as he brought his hands up to your hips, helping you control your movements.
“mhm, only for you.” you nodded at him, biting your lip, the friction starting to make you hot.
“are you sure? you don’t just fuck every guy you see?” he taunted, if another guy had said that to you in a different context you would’ve lost your absolute mind and gone crazy. but, this was actually making you even wetter, you felt like you were leaking through your panties and pants.
“no.. no. only for you.” you shut your eyes, you were on the verge of cumming, the knot in your stomach tightening every second. you wanted more but you didn’t want to stop.
“yeah? you wanna be my little slut? just mine, hm?” he brought his hand up and bunched your hair up, suddenly grabbing your hair and slightly forcing you to look at him as his other hand stayed on your hip.
“i wanna cum jake.” you whined, you stopped rolling your hips as you were getting tired. your hands roamed over his torso, feeling every part of it. he flipped you both over so he was now on top of you but… this time you wanted to do all the work.
“no, wait, jake. i wanna do all the work now.” you pleaded, giving him your puppy eyes which you’d never done with him before. however, it worked so..
“okay, fine.” he rolled his eyes, jake pretended to hate the fact he wasn’t on top anymore but, in fact, he had always been waiting for this moment. dreaming about it everyday ever since you two had began talking. you both switched places again, you were smiling on top of him, happy that you were finally giving him pleasure. you glanced up to his hands where one was on your hip and the other massaging your thigh.
then, you remembered the handcuffs you saw earlier, you moved your view to the nightstand by his head and the shining handcuffs glowed at you, wanting you to pick them up.
you were probably staring at them for too long though because jake noticed and grabbed them off, handing them to you and finally put his hands over his head, giving you permission to restrain him.
“really?” your eyes slightly widened at his eagerness to this but you gave him no time to respond and locked his hands together immediately. well, that’s what he gets for teasing you for however many weeks that was.
“come on, i’ll be your slut for today then, yeah?” his eyes were still filled with the same lust and passion from earlier yet the only difference was that he craved more now.
you leaned over and pressed your body against him, peppering his jawline with soft but sweet kisses and finally capturing his lips in yours. your lips moulding beautifully with his like two puzzle pieces that were perfect for each other.
you tugged his sweatpants down which revealed an obvious wet patch in his underwear. you moved towards his painful boner, you rubbed him softly as he suddenly had a sudden expression of regret on his face. you were going too slowly for him.
“fuck, i wish i didn’t let you do this to me now.” referring to the thing that was preventing him from touching you. you laughed at his statement as you slightly sucked him through his underwear, still continuing to rub him softly. you didn’t want to touch him fully yet, you wanted to have a little fun after everything he’s done to you. you understand, right?
“oh my god, ___, please..!” he begged, he wanted more of your touch, more friction, just anything. he hated this. he tried breaking out of the handcuffs he was locked in but eventually gave up. you loved this.
“please, i really just wanna cum.” he begged once again, you don’t really know how long it’d been with all your teasing but you finally gave in, pulling his underwear down and taking his throbbing cock into your hands, jerking him off as you sucked the red tip that looked like it was about to pop.
he bucked his hips into your mouth, wanting you to give him more and more. you refused and continued to suck only the tip but increased the speed of your hand on his twitching cock.
“___, don’t stop..” he breathily whined, clenching his hands, trying to blindly look for something to at least grab onto or touch. the bucking of his hips and whines of struggle made you feel confident each second which made you take him in even more.
“wait.. i’m gonna cum-..” he shut his eyes as he panted and whined under you.
the front door was unlocked and opened.
“jake, darling?” his mother called out, rustling of plastic bags being dropped onto a table.
not again.
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i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.
thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.
first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.
yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.
graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!
“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.
the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.
i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.
some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.
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the girl next door 14
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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Your bleary-eyed sleep drapes over you like a shroud. You sleep sways between bouts of heavy blackness and shallow delirium. You’re vaguely aware of your unfamiliar surroundings even as you sink into the depths of your unconscious. The rustle of leaves and buzz of crickets outside the window blend with the vacuities of your dreams.
You shift; your arm painful as it’s caught beneath you. Your eyelids stay slitted as you move your weight off it and wiggle your fingers, the numbness painful your elbow throbs. The canopy drapes like shadows around the posts and the ceiling is fuzzy above you. Your eyes threaten to roll back again as your drowsiness has you heavy. 
The window casts shades of black and grey against the wall, a silverish blue tint hinting off the mirror. You babble, your throat and tongue prickly and dry, your temples thrumming. You groan as the feeling slowly seeps back into your arm. 
The open door draws your gaze. You move your head to the side to see past your shoulder. You blink and squint. You can’t quite see past your own fatigue. Is someone there? You swear there’s a figure, ghostly in your blurred sight. 
You close your eyes and something creaks, low and soft, as if the house is settling. You peek out beneath your lashes again. The shadow looms closer. It can’t be real. It doesn’t feel real. Your head lolls and you drift back into sleep. 
You wake again. You don’t know how long after. The blanket hangs over the edge of the bed, a cool breeze blowing in through the open window. You’re on your stomach, your arm dangling over the side with the covers.  
The coolness tickles your lower back and emphasizes the bareness of your skin. Your pajamas are low on your hips, the string undone. There’s a warmth nestled between your legs despite the goosebumps across the rest of your body. You roll onto your back, your shirt tangle up by your chest. It’s as if you’ve been thrashing in your sleep. 
The door is open. Not just a little. All the way. 
Your body is achy. You reach to pull the blankets off the floor. As you wrap yourself in them, you feel a wet spot on the sheet. You recoil and feel around your pants. You wouldn’t have had an accident. Maybe... oh no. 
You sit up and set your feet. It takes effort to stand. Your hips hurt and your crampy. It must be your period. 
You cross the room and turn on the light. You shut the door and pull down your pajamas. No blood. You touch yourself gently, delving meekly between your folds. They’re wet and swollen, tender even, but no blood on your fingers. You’ve woken like this before. You know it’s just... your biology. Still, it feel different, more than the usual discharge. 
You shuffle back to the bed and check the sheet. There’s definitely something on it but you don’t know what it is. It seems too far down to be drool. Sweat? You peel apart the quilt and the sheet and heap the latter on the corner of the bed. You shut off the light and lay back down. 
Despite your addled nerves, it doesn’t take much to get back to sleep. You wake only as the tweeting of birds punctures your subconscious. You groan and a gentle tap comes on the door frame. The door is already open as Steve stands in the frame. 
“Uh, morning,” he says, “just checking if you wanted some coffee?” 
You lift your head and stare at him. You sit up and hug yourself, pulling your shirt away from your chest as it clings to your shape. You try to shake the sleep away and wipe your eyes. 
“If it’s okay, yes please,” you answer in a croak. 
“Sure thing, sweetie,” he grips the frame and smiles. He only wears a pair of grey sweatpants and a muscle shirt. The top exposes his muscular arms and the side of his chest and ribcage. The neckline is unhemmed and gives a generous view of the top of his pecs. “Anything else you need?” 
“No thanks,” you scratch your throat and turn your legs over the edge of the bed. 
“You like waffles? French toast? I’ll make a good breakfast for you and your mom before you head out,” he offers. 
“I think that’s okay,” you stand and cross your arms. “Is my mom awake?” 
“I haven’t checked yet,” he says, “I let her have the bed to herself. She was really tired...” he gives a coy look, “and she snores.” 
“Ah, yeah, okay,” you look at him awkwardly. 
“You wanna wash up? Shower’s just down the hall,” he points over his shoulder with his thumb, “I can grab you a towel.” 
“I’ll wait until I get home but uh, could I use the bathroom?”  
“Yep, just down the hall on the right. I’m going to put the coffee on then come back to get your mom, okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree, slowly crossing the room. 
He turns and strides off. You wait until he’s down stairs to go out in the hall. The bedroom across from his studio, the one you assume is meant for him, is shut. You turn right and find the bathroom. 
You lock the door and rinse your face with cold water, trying to ease the tension in your forehead. You sit on the toilet, a tingly heat seeping from you as you let your bladder go. You linger, letting your pee trickle out as you hear Steve coming back up the stairs. You quickly wipe and pull up your pants. 
You wash your hands slowly, listening through the wall. You hear the door then Steve calls your mom’s name. You look at yourself in the mirror. Something feels strange. You don’t know if it was the surreal night or just being in a different place. 
You come out into the hall and see Steve in the bedroom, just by the half-open door. His face is pale as he holds his phone to his ear. He sees you and raises his hand, waving before he gently closes the door. What’s going on? 
You stand there, uncertain, uneasy. Something’s going on. You hear his voice, the tone is tremulous. You pick your nails but you’re too nervous to knock and ask. You don’t want to overstep. You stand stuck in place, unsure what to do next. 
Then you hear the sirens. They’re distant at first but get louder and louder. You turn to the stairs and rush down as they get closer. You go to the front door and unlock it. You open it as the ambulance stops right outside. 
You watch the paramedics as they unload a gurney and roll it up the walk. It has to be a mistake. There's no reason for them to be here. 
They come right up the porch, “miss, someone called us from this address?” 
“They did?” You bat your lashes. 
“Please, move,” the man says but not unkindly, just matter-of-fact, “we need to get inside.” 
You step back and hold the door open. They carry the gurney upstairs and your heart shrivels up. You follow them to the second floor and they enter the main bedroom where Steve is. Where your mom is. You can hear their voices as they talk calmly and Steve’s as he tries frantically to explain. 
“I don’t know... she was sleeping in here last night. She was fine. I put her to bed and I slept on the couch since she was snoring and... she won’t wake up. I tried to... I tried. I felt a pulse but she’s not responding--” 
“Sir, we got it. Why don’t you go catch your breath?” A man says. 
“I’m sorry, I usually... I’m not like this. I was in the army, I know... I know CPR--” 
“It’s okay, sir, just let us get her out of here. We’ll take care of her,” the paramedic says. 
Your eyes fill with tears. The world around you dulls and static scratches in your ears. Steve comes out as your lips part and you gape at him dumbly. He comes to you, touching your arm as his voice garbles in your fuzzy brain. You blink at his chest and suddenly, you’re pressed against it. 
He hugs you tightly as he rocks you. You hear his heart racing. Or is that yours? 
You sniffle, too weak to pull away from him, “is my mom okay?” 
He pets your head and coos, “I don’t know, sweetie, but they’re gonna help her, alright? She’s going to the hospital.” 
“Hospital,” you echo numbly. “Hospital?” 
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hamsterclaw · 9 months
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Black Ice
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Bangtan Christmas drabble 7 - read the rest here.
Min Yoongi only cares about three things. The thrill of drifting, his friends, and cars, in that order. Somehow, you've got under his skin. Part of the Drift Kings AU.
Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Street racer/mechanic! Yoongi, smut
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Sex, swearing
Min Yoongi knows loneliness. He knows the unrelenting ache of it, the way it permeates every aspect of one’s psyche.
He knows what it feels like to look for a connection that isn’t there.
When he was ten his father took him into work for the first time, and it was then, amongst the smells of engine oil and new paint and pinewood air freshener, that Yoongi discovered his first true love.
He pored over engine diagrams, admired the easy simplicity of every tool falling into its destined purpose, got used to his clothes being stained from tuning up cars all day long.
He’d loved every minute of it, and the truth is, he still does.
Then his cousin Yijin had given him a lift down Mount Samo one day, and 14 year old Yoongi had learned that there was more than one way to soar.
He learned to drive navigating the hairpin bends of Mount Samo, and although he’s perfected the art of drifting up and down it, could do it blindfolded a hundred times over, the thrill of it has never really faded.
He’s picked up a collection of friends over the years, all of whom love the adrenaline of street racing – not knowing what’s round the corner, trusting your own reflexes and instincts to save you when you can barely see for the blood rushing in your veins. 
Kim Seokjin, his oldest and closest friend, the chaebol prince who can put together a Supra’s turbo-2JZ engine almost as quickly as Yoongi himself. His sister, a corporate princess who makes Yoongi’s heart soften and the opposite happen to his cock. They’re the two people Yoongi would do anything for, not that he’d ever tell them that. 
Jung Hoseok, the gifted mechanic with a heart of gold and the sunniest demeanour Yoongi’s ever been able to tolerate, creature of the night that he is. 
Jeon Jungkook, the baby fuckboi of the group, a man with the looks of a god and the persona of a baby deer. Yoongi finds it hard to be anything but endeared by his earnest good nature and anything but amused by his swaggering. Maybe one day the kid will grow into the bad man he so badly wants to be, but Yoongi hopes not. He’s great the way he is. 
It’s been a while since Yoongi felt lonely, in fact his life’s pretty good right about now. 
And at this exact moment? It’s perfect. 
Yoongi’s senses are on overdrive as he swings into a hairpin bend on Mount Samo, tires gripping tarmac sideways. His foot taps the throttle, his hand on the handbrake just in case but he doesn’t need it, he knows the terrain so well his body’s reacting on instinct. 
Sideways on he can see Seokjin to his right, composed, barely breaking a sweat as his rear wheels scrape the very edge of the path, inches from the steep drop. 
Yoongi catches sight of himself in his own rearview mirror, teeth bared in a feral grin as he shoots out onto the final stretch, so fast there’s nothing to see but black. 
He’d normally stop, celebrate his win with a cigarette, but he’s got somewhere to be tonight. 
Behind him now, Seokjin’s headlamps flicker in lieu of a goodbye. 
Yoongi depresses the horn, a sharp short blast, and then he’s gone. 
***
Kang Yubin’s been supplying Yoongi’s father’s garage for years, and Yoongi’s been going to him for car parts since before he knew a spark plug from a catalytic converter. 
The Kang warehouse has an unassuming front in an industrial estate on the outskirts of Seoul. Yoongi parks outside the familiar glass door, can see the dim lighting filtering through the tinted glass as he approaches. 
He pushes open the door, stops, nonplussed. 
Instead of Kang Yubin’s steel-rimmed glasses and grey hair, he’s greeted by you. 
Half your face is obscured by a black face mask, your hair up under a baseball cap, but you’re definitely not who he expected to see. 
He blinks. 
Your eyebrows rise. 
‘Are you lost?’ you inquire, an edge to your voice that pulls him out of his surprised reaction and reminds him why he’s here. 
‘I was expecting Mr Kang,’ Yoongi replies. 
Coming closer to the counter he picks up on a guardedness to your posture, a weariness that you don’t bother to hide. 
‘I’m his granddaughter,’ you say, brief. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t just come here to stare at me, what do you want?’ 
‘Spark plugs – I have a —’ Yoongi breaks off as you get up. 
‘I know who you are, and I know what car you drive. Stay here and I’ll get you your stuff.’
You disappear behind a door, return in minutes with a cardboard box. 
You pull a box-cutter out of a desk drawer, slit the masking tape, pull the flaps up. 
‘Feel free to take a look,’ you say, looking at him. 
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to verify that they’re what he needs. 
‘How do you know who I am?’ he asks, as he pays. 
There’s a faint spark in your eyes, a flicker so quick he wonders if he’s mis-read it. 
‘My grandfather said you were due around this time.’ 
You nudge your shoulder vaguely in the direction of the screen to your left, a view from the camera overlooking the front of the warehouse. ‘Not many people drive a car like that.’ 
You take his money, nudge the box in his direction. 
‘Pleasure doing business, Min Yoongi. I’ll give my grandfather your regards.’ 
You’re already looking back down at your phone like you’ve dismissed him. 
Yoongi picks up the box, casts another glance at you, and leaves. 
He’s still thinking about you when he reaches home. 
***
Yoongi’s concentrating so hard on the engine in front of him that he barely hears Seokjin approach. 
‘Dinner?’ asks Seokjin, eyes flicking over the V configuration of the 8 chrome cylinders in the custom Nissan with interest. 
Yoongi leans back, massages the crick in his neck from leaning over. 
‘Yeah. Quick though, the client wants a rush on this.’ 
They exchange a look. 
‘More money than sense,’ Seokjin says, critical. 
‘Pays the bills,’ Yoongi counters. 
They have similar opinions about rich clients who want their supercars tuned up. It’s rare that a client’s got the ability to do justice to the horsepower under the bonnet of the flashy exteriors. 
Yoongi shrugs, goes to wash his hands. 
‘Is your sister coming?’ he asks. 
Seokjin’s still admiring the engine. ‘Not tonight. Jimin’s in town,’ he says. ‘There’s a race later, if you change your mind. I’m meeting Jungkook after dinner.’ 
‘Is he still sulking over Mijin?’ Yoongi asks, falling into step beside Seokjin. 
There’s no need to confirm where they’re going, they always stop at a tiny restaurant run by an elderly woman who seems utterly unimpressed by their good manners but makes the best broth in town. 
Seokjin rolls his eyes, but his tone is sympathetic. ‘You know how it is. People never expect him to be as soft as he really is.’ 
Yoongi nods. ‘Tell him if she can’t appreciate him she’s the one missing out.’ 
Seokjin snorts. ‘Tell him yourself, he’ll love it. Are you coming to Seulgi’s party?’ 
It’s rare that Yoongi goes out at night, he’s busy and he does his best work at night time, both in the workshop and on the streets, but he’d promised Seokjin he’d go. 
‘Next week?’ he asks. 
Seokjin nods, pushes open the door to the restaurant. 
‘Yeah, don’t forget.’ 
***
Seulgi is a friend of Seokjin’s, they’d dated briefly, years back, but it hadn’t worked out. 
She greets Seokjin enthusiastically at the door, the pink flush on her cheeks deepening as Seokjin gives her an affectionate hug. 
She beams at Yoongi, and he smiles back because he’s not proof against her cheerful nature. 
It’s how he became friends with Hoseok, after all. 
‘Drinks, let me get you drinks,’ Seulgi cheers, leading them into her kitchen. 
Seokjin’s swept away by Seulgi and her friends, he’s always been a popular guy. He shoots Yoongi a look as he’s pulled into the lounge, which Yoongi pretends not to see. 
He lifts his cup to his lips, decides to go outside for a bit. 
The deck outside has a few scattered people, mostly couples, some groups. 
Yoongi leans against the wall, looks around idly. The throbbing bass of the music feels like a heartbeat. The night is cold and crisp, the skies clear, but there aren’t any stars visible in Seulgi’s backyard. 
He lets his mind wander to his next project, restoring a classic Toyota for a friend from the circuit. He’ll need parts. 
He wonders if you’ll be behind the counter when he next goes to the Kang warehouse. Then he’s straightening up, unsure if he’s manifested you into reality. 
He’s never seen your full face, but he’d know your eyes anywhere. 
You’re standing across the deck, looking straight at him, coat open over a dress that shows a hell of a lot more than the hoodie and sweats you had on the last time he saw you. 
For the first time tonight, Yoongi feels a prickle of interest. 
He’d known you’d be beautiful, there’d been something about the way you carried yourself.
You’re still looking at him. 
Yoongi walks over. 
‘Who’s manning the warehouse?’ he asks, when he gets close enough. 
You tilt your head. ‘Are you really so concerned about my family business, Min Yoongi?’ 
There’s a mocking note in your voice, Yoongi finds he likes it. 
‘You have the best quality parts,’ he says. 
Your smile blooms over your face, making your eyes bright. ‘I knew there was a reason my grandfather liked you.’ 
Yoongi nods to your dress. ‘You look pretty.’ 
‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘You look pretty too.’
Yoongi can feel his lips curving. Are you flirting with him? Seems like you are.
He’s all for it.
You’re raising your cup now, taking a sip.
In the night time lighting, your lips glisten with moisture and whatever lipstick you’ve got on, making him wonder what they’d look like around his cock.
You eye him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.
Yoongi says, ‘Do you like cars? Want to see mine?’
***
You’ve got your legs either side of his torso, your ass bouncing in his lap, and Yoongi’s front seat’s reclined all the way to make room for you to ride him.
The lines of your beautiful body are reminiscent of a triumph of masters of Italian design. Long smooth thighs, tightening around him with every rhythmic thrust. 
The curves of your breasts, bouncing right in his face.
The long line of your neck, head thrown back, the pulse in your throat fluttering as he holds your hips so he can fuck you back, fuck up into your sweet warmth.
His cock fits inside you like he was made for you, and god fucking damn, you feel so good around him he’s on a hair trigger.
Yoongi cups the back of your head, tugs you down so you’re close. Goosebumps prickle your flesh as he tells you how good you are.
Your eyes close as he kisses your bare neck, flicks his tongue against your skin.
You had been whimpering steadily as your arousal dripped down onto him, soaking his balls, pooling at the base of his cock, and as Yoongi picks up the pace he’s gratified by the hitch in your breathing.
Yoongi’s always been damn good at helping his partners find their pleasure, and he’s sure as hell not going to stop now.
Your breasts are still in his face, half out the low neck of your dress, chest heaving.
Yoongi rubs his thumb over the outline of your hardened nipple, and you cry out, muffled with your mouth against his skin but still loud enough to make his ears ring.
His balls tighten up even more as your walls flutter around him, and Yoongi would know you were coming even if you hadn’t gasped it.
God, you’re so sweet and sexy he’s lost.
He can feel your panting breaths against his neck, the weight of your warm body as it goes lax after your peak, the sweet grip of your cunt taking in everything he has to give you as he releases, a pulse of pleasure so intense it sends shockwaves through his skin.
Yoongi’s floating, and like reaching the summit of Mount Samo, he immediately wants to do it again.
You’re looking at him, lips still so swollen and pretty his spent cock gives a residual throb inside you.
‘Like my car?’ Yoongi asks. It’s stupid, but it makes you laugh and he’ll be as stupid as you like if it makes you sound like that.
Your chin lifts, and you say, ‘It’s all right.’
The flash of merriment in your eyes gives you away.
Yoongi laughs. ‘Maybe next time we can get the car started and I can actually take you somewhere.’
‘I don’t know,’ you tease. ‘Are you a good driver?’
Yoongi reaches out, tucks the lock of hair that’s fallen over your eye behind your ear.
‘Let’s find out,’ he says. ‘Where do you want to go?’
***
Yoongi’s thinking about you the next morning when he wakes up. He’d ended up taking you back to your place, where you’d kissed him sweetly at the door and bid him goodbye like a promise to see him again. 
His phone rings and he’s still got you on his mind, so it takes a second for him to regroup. 
‘The maknae needs help,’ Seokjin says, no preamble. ‘I’m going to swing by yours, be there in ten.’ 
Yoongi hangs up, wonders what the hell Jungkook’s got himself into this time. 
By the time Seokjin arrives, Yoongi’s had time to bolt coffee and change, but Seokjin still raises a brow as he swings into the passenger seat. 
As always, Seokjin’s impeccably dressed, dark hair swept back from his forehead like he’s going to his own fucking wedding instead of about to deal with some shit that’s going down. 
Yoongi suppresses a yawn, tugs his beanie down over his brow. 
‘What’s going down with JK?’ he asks. 
Seokjin cuts off another car so smoothly they’re halfway down the intersection before the irritated horn blares. 
‘Remember that race the other day? Jungkook beat Seungho fair and square, I was there.’ 
Yoongi groans. ‘The fuck. I thought we weren’t going to race that fragile asshole anymore.’ 
Seokjin glances in the rearview. ‘The maknae was still hurting over Mijin, I thought an easy win might make him feel better.’ 
‘So what’s Seungho done?’ 
‘Brought in the big guns,’ Seokjin says grimly. ‘Called in some guys from Hongkong. JK’s with them now.’ 
Now Yoongi’s fully awake. ‘Should’ve taken my car instead of this piece of shit,’ he says. 
Seokjin just laughs. ‘Don’t worry about my car, Yoongi. Maybe think of a way to hide that big–ass hickey on your neck.’ 
‘Suck my dick,’ Yoongi says, like they’re 16 again. 
‘Looks like someone already did,’ Seokjin returns. 
***
Yoongi parks up outside the Kang warehouse, pushes open the door. 
You look up from your phone. Your face mask is off, so Yoongi has the privilege of seeing the way your lips curve in a smile. 
‘There’s been a shipment of fuel injectors,’ you say. ‘Want to take a look?’ 
Yoongi stops just in front of the wooden half-panel that separates you from him. 
He tilts his head. 
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Also, I took my friend’s Honda for a spin today, I’ve got a list.’ 
He smooths out the piece of paper he’s got folded in his pocket, places it on the counter. 
You pick it up, get up. ‘I’ve got you.’ 
Yoongi runs a hand over the hickey over his neck. ‘I’ve been taking shit all day, about this,’ he adds. 
‘Yeah?’ you ask, but you don’t seem the least bit contrite. ‘You did your share of marking, Min Yoongi.’ 
Yoongi asks, ‘What time do you get off?’ 
You’re about to answer when the door opens. 
Yoongi turns and tenses immediately. 
Fucking Shin Seungho. 
‘You following me?’ he asks mildly. 
Seungho scoffs, doesn’t deign to reply. 
‘I’m collecting an order,’ he says to you. 
Your face mask is back on, your face carefully blank. ‘Sure, what’s the name?’ 
When you go into the back to collect it Seungho turns to Yoongi. 
Yoongi concentrates on the silkscreen of a cat on the wall behind the counter. 
He can feel Seungho’s eyes on his face. 
Just try it, fucker. 
The fact was, he’d pushed Seokjin’s Honda to its limits beating Seungho’s friends today, and although the adrenaline’s ebbed, there’s a thin streak still running through his bloodstream, and he’s a spark away from igniting. 
Seungho takes a step closer, and Yoongi turns to face him like he’s got all the time in the world. 
You return just as Seungho opens his filthy mouth. 
‘Looks like you’ve paid,’ you say, passing the box across the counter to Seungho. 
You pull out the box cutter, slit the package, open it up for him to check, but don’t put it down. 
‘Am I going to have trouble here, boys?’ you ask. 
Seungho barely looks your way, Yoongi’s always known the man lacks vision. 
‘Nah,’ Seungho says finally. He picks up the box, sneers at Yoongi. 
Yoongi blanks his expression. There’s no way he’s going to start shit with Seungho in front of you. 
The asshole’s not worth it. 
As soon as the door closes behind Seungho you put down the box cutter. 
The next words out of your mouth surprise him. 
‘Shit, you’re hot when you’re mad, Yoongi.’ 
Yoongi stares at you, flummoxed, then he laughs. 
‘Just when I’m mad?’ he asks. 
You shrug. ‘Take me out on a date and I’ll tell you more.’ 
‘How about right now?’ Yoongi asks. 
‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Let’s go.’ 
***
As your grip on his hair loosens, Yoongi lifts his mouth from your cunt, swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Helps you tug your panties back up, smooths your skirt back down over your thighs. 
He notices you’ve still got his cum in the corner of your lips. As he watches, you flick your tongue out, lick delicately. 
His cock stirs with interest, and you act like you know it. 
‘More later?’ you ask. 
‘Yeah. After I win.’ 
Yoongi reaches over to help you with your seatbelt, arranging it across your chest, between your breasts, securing it. 
You lean forward and kiss him as the belt clicks into place. 
Yoongi starts the engine, turns the heating back on because he’s noticed your hands get cold easily. 
‘I can drop you off at home before the race,’ he offers. ‘Come see you after.’ 
‘I want to see you drive,’ you say.
Yoongi wouldn’t say it, but he’s pleased. He knows he’ll keep you safe, it’s a circuit through the city outskirts he’s done a million times, and he’s looking forward to you meeting Seokjin and Hoseok and Jungkook. 
He flicks on the lights, rolls into oncoming traffic. Heads North. 
By the time he pulls up to the starting line there’s the usual crowd gathered. He parks up next to Seokjin and Hoseok.  
In his rearview he can see JK surrounded by people. He’s lost the sad puppy air he had for a few weeks whilst he was pining after Mijin. The kid’s going to be all right, not that Yoongi’s ever had any doubt about that. 
Engines all around him are starting up, a deafening series of rumbles. 
Beside him, Seokjin waves, and Hoseok smiles so brightly it’s blinding. 
The flag waves, and Yoongi accelerates. 
Checks on you in the rearview, and you’re as pretty as he remembers. 
Min Yoongi’s spent a lot of his life looking for connection, and by his reckoning, he’s doing pretty well right about now. 
Lights flash by in a blur. 
Yoongi drives. 
Author note: And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading, hope you've enjoyed, here's to a brighter 2024. This time last year we were saying goodbye to Kim Seokjin, I can't wait to start welcoming the boys back again. Happy holidays to you all!
©hamsterclaw 2023
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hoshikarasu · 9 months
Text
LOOKS BETTER ON YOU. — CHOSO X M!READER
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❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring   :    choso with a male reader .
❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀synopsis   :    trying the lipstick trend with choso ! — WC: 1.1k
❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes   :    male reader . you/your pronouns . reader wears lipstick . choso briefly thinks about the idea of being marked by reader . not proofread . this is entirely self-indulgent .
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“I’ve never seen you wear lipstick before.”
Granted, Choso can’t say he has ever seen you wear any type of makeup before. You didn’t particularly dabble with it aside from the occasional eyeliner, but even then, you didn’t see it as necessary to include in your routine.
It was a surprise to see you return after a trip to the store with a few tubes of lipstick in different shades of red and purple; the same colors that he answered with when you asked him for his favorite color before you left.
The tubes of lipstick sat innocently at your desk for a while before he finally caved into his curiosity and asked if there was a reason you bought them. It seemed as if you were waiting for that question, a light flickering in your eyes, as you explained to him how you saw this trend on Tiktok. (He would later go track down Yuji to ask him what a Tiktok was and listen attentively to his younger brother’s explanation.) 
You then mentioned that you wanted to try this trend out with him.
Now here you both are, finally having free time to spare from your busy schedules, and you wanted to film that Tiktok today. And Choso could never say no to you. Especially when you looked up at him with a hopeful, excited look. 
At his observation, you glanced up from the mirror you set up before you. The corners of your mouth curved into a smile. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think it’s coming out great?”
His eyes dropped back down to your mouth to examine them. There was something mesmerizing about the way you applied the lipstick. Despite your lack of experience with makeup, you could’ve fooled him with your precise movements.
You chose one of the red shades to apply on. The one that was a deep blood red and reminded you of his blood manipulation. 
It felt like an eternity of him staring at your lips being painted before he swallowed down the thoughts that crossed his mind briefly. “What.. should I be doing?”
Choso can’t help but feel a bit guilty for simply admiring you and doing nothing else. He glanced over to where you set up your phone for a moment before he turned back to you. 
“Nothing yet. I still have to do something, so you can just stand there looking pretty for me.” 
Your words brought a tint of pink to his cheeks as he struggled to think of a response. He soon settled with murmuring your name in a quiet, low voice. 
Turning his head away, he heard your muted giggles and felt his face grow even warmer.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before you’re suddenly right in front of him. You’re forced to stand on your tippy toes just to reach out and cup his face, guiding him to look into your warm gaze.
It’s then that he noticed how perfectly painted your lips were. You looked absolutely breathtaking. Any and every thought in his mind disappeared, far distracted by the sight of your lips coming closer to his face. 
Pleased at the prospect of a kiss, something he’ll never say no to, Choso leaned forwards.
Except right when he was about to capture your lips into a kiss, you tilted your head and pressed your lips against his cheeks. Your lips lingered against his skin for a moment before you finally leaned back and admired your work. 
A stain in the shape of your lips is left on his cheek.
He can vaguely see it from the mirror you had been using. He can’t pull his gaze away from his reflection. The mark kept him in a trance that his heart skipped a beat at the thought.
He really likes the thought of having marks adorning his skin if they’re left by you.
A part of him wants to ask you to leave behind more marks, to smear your carefully done lipstick across his skin. But luckily, you sense this desire within him. Or maybe it’s simply because that’s what the trend requires (Choso wouldn’t know, he didn’t ask for the details on what this trend was about).
Either way, Choso’s pleased to see the way you leaned forwards again and smudge your lipstick by pressing more kisses on his face.
A significant amount of the lipstick is wasted in planting perfect marks all over Choso’s face. By the time you’re satisfied, he looked a bit dazed, resembling a love struck teenager who just kissed his boyfriend for the first time.
He can hear you barely holding off your chuckles before you make a comment, “This looks better on you than me.” You shoot him a grin and walk over to your phone, motioning him over.
Without hesitation, Choso slides up in the space beside you. You gave him a quick rundown over what you want for him to do, which he took to heart seriously to not disappoint you, while you set up the timer on your phone.
Like you requested, he ensures that he’s off to the side enough that he doesn’t appear in the frame of your phone.
Your phone displays the countdown and the selected audio you chose starts to play. You began to apply the lipstick on your lower lip, which you had apparently wiped clean at some point without him noticing. 
The lipstick drags across your lower lip with bolder movements than your first attempts now that you have some experience under your belt. You soon ‘accidentally’ drag the lipstick down past your lip, leaving a smudge against your skin because of this mistake. 
Ah, his cue.
Reaching out to grip your chin, Choso watched how you craned your neck to look up at him, and used his thumb to gently wipe away the stain. 
The phone captured it all thanks to your subtle shifting of the phone to pan over to Choso. He looks as he always does, a bored expression resting on his face, but there’s no denying the fondness in his gaze. 
His attention is solely fixated on you, never sparing a glance at your phone, until the audio comes to a stop and your phone replays what was just filmed. He refuses to move from his spot though his grip is loose for you to move out of it when you turn towards your phone.
He watches over your shoulder as you do all that is necessary before posting the Tiktok and redirecting your attention back to him. 
You notice that he seems a bit lost in thought.
Before you could ask him what’s wrong, he speaks up.
“Can we use up the rest of your lipstick?”
And just like him, you can’t find it within yourself to tell him no.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
It’s only once everything is okay that Dustin starts thinking there’s something deeply wrong with him.
They’re out of the danger zone, where hospital visits have almost become normal hangouts rather than something to sit through on tenterhooks. Eddie’s getting the all clear to go home soon, and Dustin feels like he’s finally, finally able to take a deep breath, and blow it all the way out.
Steve must feel it, too, because he starts drifting off halfway through one of their last visits, while Dustin’s telling Eddie how Tews got up on the roof last night.
Dustin’s not offended by Steve falling asleep—for one, Steve already heard the story on the ride to the hospital and, more importantly, Dustin’s pretty positive that he’s barely been sleeping, only just enough so he can safely drive his car.
Dustin pats his knee fondly as he gets up.
Even though he’s steadily swaying towards the end of the couch, Steve tries to rouse himself.
“Mm, Dustin, jus’… jus’ need ten minutes, then… give y’ride home…”
“It’s okay,” Dustin says. He gently pushes Steve’s shoulder, snorts when Steve’s head tips right onto the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna go call my mom.”
He knows Steve really must be exhausted when he doesn’t attempt an argument to counter that, just sighs with a murmured, “Hmm? If tha’s… ‘kay.”
From the bed, Eddie looks on with a smile. “Thanks, Henderson,” he says softly. “Wayne’s gonna come later, he can… give him a ride home.”
He yawns through his words, like just looking at Steve is making him sleepy, too.
They’ve been like that a lot recently, Dustin thinks, like their breathing falls into sync without them even trying.
He slips out of the room quietly. There’s something between Steve and Eddie, he can feel it—and although he can’t quite put a name to it yet, he knows it’s something delicate, like spun glass. He’s not going to be the one to disturb it.
When his mom comes to pick him up, it happens.
“Put your coat on, hon, it’s freezing out.”
Dustin rolls his eyes—it’s hardly that cold—but as he steps outside, the air hits his bare skin and—
He’s in The Upside Down, and the cold is in his throat, in his lungs, he can’t stop shaking with it, and Eddie, he’s—he’s not breathing—
“Dustin? The car’s parked this way, baby.”
Dustin breathes in, short and sharp. For a moment, he can still see it all: the lightning, the blue tint, the particles hanging in the air, and then, like blinking away a camera flash, it’s gone.
His mom frowns, steps closer. “Dusty? Oh, you look pale. Hope you’re not coming down with something. Early night tonight, okay?”
“Yeah,” Dustin says. Blinks. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
-
He tells himself it’s a one-off.
Then it happens again—inside the hospital this time.
Steve opens a window in Eddie’s room before heading to the vending machine—just a crack. Barely anything.
But the cold is so intense that it takes Dustin’s breath away.
He hears the bats. Feels the pain in his foot, burning white-hot as he runs, he has to run. Eddie. Screaming. He has to get to him now or he’ll—he’ll—
Dustin shuts the window with such force that the pane rattles.
Eddie glances over from where he’s standing, right in front of the tiny mirror on the wall; he’s been wringing out his still damp hair with a clean T-shirt that Dustin highly suspects belongs to Steve, unless Eddie’s suddenly taken to owning a Hawkins Phys. Ed uniform.
“Woah, that’s the window shut, I guess,” Eddie says lightly. “You cold?”
“A bit,” Dustin says, hopes it comes out normal.
It must do, because Eddie just shrugs and goes back to the mirror, fiddling with his curls, and Dustin would usually give him so much shit for that, but his chest is tight, and although logically, he knows he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he can still feel the dampness of the ground, the dirt under his nails, Eddie’s blood…
“Did you just close that?” Steve says, jerking his head towards the window with a bemused look.
“I live to piss you off,” Dustin says.
Eddie laughs.
“Yeah, it’s your special talent,” Steve shoots back, monotone, but he’s grinning as he throws a candy bar at Dustin’s head.
3 Musketeers.
Dustin isn’t hungry, not even for nougat.
But he tears the wrapper anyway, takes a sizeable bite just for the sake of appearances.
Steve is catching Eddie’s eye in the mirror, and Eddie’s smiling, looking at Steve’s reflection; and although Dustin can hardly hear what they’re saying through the thud of his own heartbeat, their joy is obvious without words.
Because it’s over. It’s all over.
Dustin’s not gonna be the one to ruin this for them.
He won’t.
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ellieluvr420 · 7 months
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Friends? Never. Pt.7 (Ellie Williams x reader)
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SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.
SMUT mdni, brief mention of attempted SA, story-typical violence
It had been two weeks since Ellie had come back from patrol injured, Maria gave you leave so you could take care of her and it had been a nightmare for the full fourteen days, Ellie never once making life easy for you and proving herself to be the worst patient in all of history. Nevertheless, you still managed to get through it and today was your first day back on patrol. If you said you weren’t nervous you would be lying and if you said you were nervous solely because of the attack two weeks ago you would also be lying. You had been up all-night pacing and fretting about being away from Ellie for a whole day, you were so angry that in the space of two weeks you had become dependent on her company but there was nothing you could do to rationalise with yourself, so you paced, and you bit the skin around your nails raw and possibly pulled a couple clumps of hair out, you had yet to look in the mirror and assess the damage but when you walked into Ellie’s room where she was sitting eating breakfast, you knew it was bad. 
“Why do you look like that?” 
“Like what?” 
“Bad.” 
“Wow thanks.” 
“Oh come on you know what I mean.” As you sit on the bed and lean in to peck her lips, she holds your face close to hers to whisper: “You always look beautiful, but you don’t look well.” She kisses you once again and leans her forehead on yours as you smile bittersweetly at each other. 
Since your first kiss you had spent every second together, the little bubble surrounding you both was tinted pink and the second you walk out the front door for patrol you know the feeling will be ripped away from you. You had spent every night watching films, making dinner together once Ellie was mobile again and you had even started taking it in turns reading your book to each other. The new definition of your relationship was undecided but the air around you both was heavy with want. You had been holding yourself back because of Ellie’s condition and Ellie had been holding herself back because the irrational fear that she would somehow infect you if you had sex was at the forefront of her mind, sometimes she’d even hesitate to kiss you before remembering that it was okay. Things were calm and quiet, and you almost forgot the real world, almost. 
“I’m fine El, I just didn’t sleep much last night.” 
“Then you shouldn’t be going on patrol, you won’t be able to focus, tell Maria you can’t.” 
“Okay so I tell Maria I can’t patrol because I’m tired, how do you think she’ll react?” 
“... Okay fair enough but I don’t like it.” 
“You and me both.” You gaze at her face that had the last remnants of some green and brown bruises as well as the stitched cut across her freckled cheeks that was healing well as you cup her cheek. She takes your hand in hers and kisses at your knuckles before tightening her grip and holding your fingers for her to inspect. “Wait, No Ellie.” 
“I fucking knew it you liar, you’ve bitten them raw. Are they sore?” You snatch your hand away from her with a shameful look on your face as you avoid eye contact. 
“No they’re fine. And I’m fine, I gotta go though so I’ll see you later.” 
“What time will you be back?” 
“Five-ish.” You both go quiet as the memory of that day dawns on each of you, you watch as panic flashes across her face. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, there’s a big group of us going today and we’re sticking together. They managed to get us walkie’s somehow, so we’ll be able to stay in touch with each other and Jackson, okay?” 
“Okay.” She sighs and you kiss her check before walking to the door. “Be safe.” You look back at her and flash a solemn smile. 
“Always.” You keep walking without looking back again for fear that if you did you would never leave, so you don’t look back until you’re on Greg and riding out of Jackson to your first checkpoint. 
“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Lacey smiled at you. You were often on patrol with her, so you had become good friends. Her black curly hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her brown eyes sparkled with a hint of curiosity. Lacey was beautiful with her glowing deep-brown skin that only looked more heavenly in the sunlight that was beating down on you all. The first thing you noticed about her was her beauty but as you got to know her you found she was strong and kind. She was the first person you told about your sexuality and she was the first person after Maria that you told about your parents kicking you out.  
“Yeah, I got given leave because my roommate got really hurt in the attack the other week, so I was taking care of her.” 
“You were taking care of Ellie; I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that.” 
“How do you know I live with Ellie?” You had barely seen Lacey since moving in with Ellie because of everything that’s happened so you hadn’t had a chance to tell her, for a second you wondered if you would have told her even if you had seen her, but you push the thought away before you let it distract you. 
“Everyone knows.” 
“What?” 
“Oh come on, you two are sworn enemies and now you live together, everyone’s a little interested on what that’s like. So, fill me in, is she secretly buried in the backyard right now?” She grins at you playfully as you shake your head and chuckle. 
“Well, um, she’s not dead yet.” You choke out a small laugh and immediately feel consumed with guilt as Lacey laughs with you. You don’t know why you said that. What you wanted to say is it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but your mouth wasn’t connected to your brain. 
You had been to two out of four checkpoints and you were approaching your third now, a small holiday town with large cabins and a couple shops and bars, whenever you came here you always tried to imagine what it was like before the outbreak but your mind can never conjure up a picture and it frustrates you more each time. The actual checkpoint is one of the furthest cabins from the entrance to the town, so you check each building you pass on your way to it. There were seven of you today and each person seemed more on edge than the next but other than a couple stragglers you had been okay so far. You felt stupid for relaxing a little the second one of your men went down and bullets started raining down on your group. 
“FIND COVER NOW!” You scream to the rest of them and as you sprint past Finn lying dead on the floor something inside you flips and you’re no longer consciously acting, all your movements were controlled by the need to get back home to Ellie safely as you dived into the first cabin on your left. Immediately you pull your handgun out and check your pocket to catalogue how much ammo you had. You quickly but carefully check each room downstairs. If you had been calm and collected you would have went upstairs first knowing that you’re more likely to find someone there than downstairs, but you aren’t calm and collected, you’re panicked and running entirely on adrenaline. You hadn’t realised how easy it was for life to end, how quick, you had always pushed the thought of death away knowing it was all too possible in the hostile world you lived in, so you chose to stay ignorant to reality. You were content with your decision, until you hear the creak of a floorboard behind you. Without a second thought you spun round firing your gun twice, you watch as the figure that you had shot at dove towards you showing you his grisly face. You fire again but he’s too quick, slamming you down to the ground and climbing on top of you, pinning you down. You glance at your gun that had been hit out of your hand and was now sitting in the corner of the room, mocking you. He smiles like the cheshire cat as he runs a knife down your face before reaching for the walkie talkie he had attached to his hip. 
“Boys come to number 7, I’ve got a pretty one.” He speaks into the walkie talkie before turning his attention back to you. “I’m gonna enjoy this.” He begins reaching to unbuckle his belt and your body turns cold. 
Get home to Ellie. 
You lean up and smash your head into his and as he groans with a disoriented expression, you deliver a hard punch straight to his nose.  
Get home to Ellie. 
You push him off you and scramble away as quick as you can but his hand latches onto your ankle, you let him pull you closer and then kick him hard in the face which allows you to wriggle free again. 
Get home to Ellie. 
This time you manage to make it to your gun, immediately shooting him straight in the foot. He bellows out as he goes to the ground and you watch as you grab your walkie talkie. 
“Come to number 7, be discreet and be ready, there’s a group of them and they’re all coming here. I’ve got one already.” You walk over to the now writhing man and jam the gun into his stomach. “WHO ARE YOU?!” You screech out. His silence angers you more so you slam the base of your gun down onto his temple. “Start talking or I break your arm next.” 
“I’d like to see you try.” He chuckles and the arrogance sets something off inside you, in one swift motion you hold his right arm up, his dominant one you had noticed, and stomp down onto it until you hear a loud crack and see the creamy white of his bone poking through his upper arm. The scream he lets out is inhumane, but it was music to your ears. 
“You’ve got a minute or I break the other one too.” 
“FINE, fine, we spotted your town a couple days ago, we were gonna take you guys as hostages to make them trade us for supplies.” 
“Oh so you’re raider scum.” 
“We’re survivors just like you, you ain’t better than us just because you live in your fancy, cosy town.” 
“If you wanted supplies, you could’ve just approached the walls, we help anyone that needs it. That’s why we’re better than you.” As you finish speaking Lacey burst through the door dragging an unconscious man by his foot, she brings him to be in line with the man before you and drops his foot. The rest of your team follow, bringing in three more guys between them. “Two of you go find stuff to tie them up with.” You look back at your group that were waiting eagerly for what you next had to say. There was no leader in patrol groups, but they were listening to you like you were. 
“How did you find us?” You turn your attention back to the men sat before you, the conscious ones each exchange looks. You slam your boot-clad foot into one of the men brought in by your team. 
“Look at me. How did you find us?” 
“People talk, pretty town like yours, shit like that makes the rounds.” One of them pipes up. He’s clutching his side, and you notice the blood seeping from between his fingers, you walk over to him so you’re towering over his hunched form. 
“What people?” 
“Met a girl and her friends, said they’re looking for a guy who lives there but they don’t know where it is, only that it's in Wyoming. They’re on their way too but we move faster than most, we just wanted supplies.” 
“Did she say the name of the guy she’s looking for?” 
“Nope.” Your face turns dark as you raise your gun to his head and shoot him in a split second, the thump of him hitting the floor coincides with Lacey and Raphael coming back into the room with all the stuff they found. They all look at you as though you have two heads. 
“He was bleeding out, would’ve been deadweight.” They nod and start getting to work tying the rest up. They go to tie their feet, but you stop them. “We’re taking them with us. Maria’s gonna want to interrogate them about this. I’m gonna radio Maria and tell her we’re bringing back hostages. The rest of you watch them, they move you shoot but not to kill, got it?” They all nod, and you walk to the next room along to contact Maria. 
“We’re heading back now, we’re at Mountain Valley, we got ambushed by raiders and we’re getting ready to transport them now, they’re talking about a group that are on their way to Jackson looking for someone, figured you’d want to talk to them. We had one casualty, Finn, he went quick.” Your voice trembles but you take a deep breath to hold it together. 
“Okay, well done, he shouldn’t have died but six is better than none, don’t beat yourself up, it’s not your fault.” Her bluntness had always been refreshing but now it was causing bile to rise up your body, you push the feeling down and concentrate on replying. 
“I’ll see you at the gates.” You can’t acknowledge what Maria said, it doesn’t feel right, so you focus on getting the raiders ready to take back to Jackson. You all load them onto your horses, tying them to the reins and then climb onto your horses also. Lucas volunteered to take Finn on his horse so his family could say goodbye and he could be buried in Jackson. You, Ben, Mick and Lacey each have a raider on your horse, so you climb on behind them and jam your guns into their backs as a warning. The ride back to Jackson went by in a flash and before you know it, you’re approaching the slowly opening gates of home. 
Ellie was standing at the gates of Jackson, when she walked, or limped, over there it was 4 PM, she knew she’d likely be waiting for some time, but she couldn’t sit at home waiting for you to come back any longer. She finally understood your reaction to her coming home late because you weren’t even due back yet and her anxiety was the worst it had ever been. She figured waiting at the gates would be better than waiting at home but as she approached the gates and saw Maria standing there as well as a large group of guards, she felt uneasy. The atmosphere was calm but foreboding and she couldn’t understand why there were so many guards just standing and waiting. She walked over to Maria who looked stunned even before she was faced with Ellie who she wasn’t expecting to be out of bed let alone at the gates.  
“Maria, what’s going on?” 
“They got ambushed by raiders, the scumbags got Finn, but they managed to take them as hostages, they’re due to be back soon.” 
“Why are they bringing them back?” 
“She didn’t say.” 
“You spoke to her?” 
“Yes Ellie, she’s fine.” Ellie felt her cheeks flush at Maria’s obvious awareness of the situation between the both of you, but the thought is wiped from her mind when she hears yells to open the gates. She moves as quickly as she can towards the crowd of people, mimicking your movements two weeks prior, shoving and pushing past people to get to the front. She watches as you ride in on Greg with a man hunched over in front of you, she makes no attempt to move, just watching the scene play out before her. 
Two guards walk over to you as you climb off Greg and reach up to cut his ties to the reins with your knife before yanking him down where he lands on the ground with a thud and an ear-piercing screech. “You bitch.” She hears him spit out and she can’t contain the small chuckle that leaves her lips when you kick him once on the arm he was already clutching. He writhes and cries and as he turns, she sees the white of his bone protruding from his arm. She’s watching intently as she surveys the damage done to him until she notices your eyes on her. 
You weren’t expecting Ellie to be at the gate, especially not since you were early but the sight of her standing there staring back at you releases all the tension in your body. You were home, with Ellie, everything would be okay. You go to start walking over to her but Maria steps in your way putting a hand on your shoulder. “I need to speak with you.” 
“Wait- Can I-” 
“Now. Let’s go.” She pulls you by your arm and as you catch a glimpse of Ellie over your shoulder you mouth ‘I’m sorry’ at her before letting Maria yank you away from the crowd. 
Ellie watched Maria dragging you away and her guard immediately went back up again as she subtly started to follow you both. You walk round a corner, out of sight, and she darts to the edge of the building that would shield her from yours and Maria’s sight as she focuses on trying to listen to your conversation while wincing from the sudden movement. 
“Not a word of this to anyone. Seriously, not Ellie, no one.” 
“Alright I got it. Are you worried?” 
“I haven’t decided yet.” 
“Who do you think they’re looking for?” 
“I don’t know, do you think they’re not letting on everything they know?” 
“Maybe, I’m not sure.” 
“Well we’ll find out won’t we.” Ellie panicked as she heard footsteps coming her way, she once again darts round the other corner of the building so she’s out of sight of whoever is about to walk past and as she watches Maria storm away she creeps back round the building until she’s met with you, standing staring at the floor as you bit at the skin around your nails. 
“Are you okay?” You jump but relax as you see it’s Ellie approaching you. 
“Yeah, hi, I’m okay.” She pulls you into a hug that neither of you feel ready to leave so she speaks into your shoulder. 
“What the fuck happened?” 
“Fucking raiders.” Your voice is muffled by her chest but she can understand you fine.  
“Sorry about Finn. You know it’s not your fault right?” 
“Yeah I know.” You were lying but it was easier to lie than have this conversation right now. 
“Why’d you bring them back?” 
“Thought Maria should decide what to do with them.” You both know you’re lying but she leaves it for the moment. 
“Come on, let’s go home.” 
“I actually had a better idea.” You pull away from her with a cheeky smirk as she cocks an eyebrow at your tone. 
You’re sat in a booth with Ellie at the Tipsy Bison nursing your fifth drink of the night, you had been there for an hour and a half. You recognise the first few notes of one of your favourite songs: ecstasy by the crooked stills, and you gasp before jumping up and standing in front of Ellie. “We have to dance to this.” 
“I’m good.” 
“That wasn’t a question.” You grab her hand and gently but firmly pull her up and onto the dancefloor with you. Despite her reluctance her hands immediately find their place at your waist, sqeezing a little, as you begin to sway to the slow song together. You arms that are round her neck pull her closer to you until your bodies are pressed together and your head is resting on her shoulder. 
Ellie feels her cheeks redden as she realises you two are in public and dancing together, so closely too, but as she looks up, she breathes a sigh of relief that no one’s eyes are on you both. It wasn’t that she wanted it to be a secret but she felt like she was under a magnifying glass whenever she was out and now was no different. She notices you shifting until your face is back in front of hers where she meets your lidded eyes. You’re drunk and she knows that so she had only had one drink to make sure she could watch you, she wanted to let you blow off some steam but the thought of being drunk like you were now unsettled her. Her eyes widen as you lean in but they shut as she relaxes into the kiss. You lick at her bottom lip and she opens her mouth so her tongue can collide with yours and the kiss deepens as you cock your head to the side slightly and push your body impossibly closer to hers. As you both pull away she looks at you with a giddy expression, she hated being the centre of attention but knowing that you just kissed her in front of everyone here makes her beam with pride, until she notices your eyes aren’t meeting hers, they’re fixed over her shoulder and your eyebrows were scrunched together in a cruel scowl. She glances over her shoulder and when she sees your parents standing there both red with scowls that matched yours she realised you kissing her in front of everyone had nothing to do with her. You were using her to piss off your parents and she felt more hurt than she had two weeks ago after the attack from the horde. 
“Are you fucking serious?” She pulls away from you leaving almost a foot of space between you both.  
“What?” You feign ignorance, she shakes her head and chuckles drly before storming away from you and out of the bar. 
“Ellie, wait up! What the fuck is your problem?” You slur as you chase after her, despite the limp she was moving impressively quickly. As you catch up to her she spins around with fire in her eyes. 
“YOU! You’re my fucking problem.” You stand completely taken back by her rage as she begins walking off again, the guilt consumes you in an instant as you begin trailing behind her, keeping your distance, knowing you had been caught. It wasn’t like you only kissed her because your parents were watching but that fact doesn’t make what you did any less awful. The walk was slow and long despite Ellie storming as fast as her injured body would take her and when she reaches the house and enters she slams the door behind her, right in your face. You enter cautiously and close the door behind you quietly as you see her stomping up the stairs. You flinch as you hear her bedroom door slam and prepare yourself for the worst as you turn the doorknob and shamefully slip through the door. “Get out.” 
“No, let me explain.” 
“Get out.” 
“No Ellie, just listen please.” She moves towards you at lightning speed and pushes you against the wall holding you there, she was rough but she wasn’t trying to hurt you. Her breathing was deep and fast as she stared you down with dark eyes. Neither of you spoke, you didn’t know what to say and all Ellie wanted to do was scream so you both stayed silent and frozen in your places. She takes in the sight of you hungrily as her mind is is contemplating her next move. Just looking at you makes her angry but as she takes in your appearance, something else takes over. 
She smashes her lips into yours so hard it almost hurt as your teeth clash together and her tongue prods at your lower lip. Her hand finds its place around your neck and squeezes until you gasp so she can invade your mouth with her tongue, her hand remains wrapped around your neck squeezing more gently this time as you moan into her mouth. She snaps away from you and pulls you away from the wall before pushing you down onto the bed face first, you go to flip over to face her but her knee over the arch of your back stops you. “That was fucked up.” 
“I know Ellie, I’m sorry.” 
“Shut up.” She grabs a handful of your ass and kneads at the flesh. You hadn’t seen this side of Ellie, even when you would bicker day in and out, she still seemed like Ellie. This wasn’t Ellie. You feel her knee leave your back but you don’t move, afraid that if you anger her more she’ll leave you pent up and frustrated. You just watch as she looks down at you taking in your body from this angle before hooking her hands round the waistband of your trousers and underwear, she meets your eyes and for a second you see your Ellie in there. “You wanna do this?” 
“Please.” 
“You’re gonna regret that.” She yanks everything down in one swoop leaving you completely bare from the waist down. She grabs your hips and yanks them up until you knees bend to support the new position. You feel vulnerable knowing she can see everything right now but you feel safe regardless as you watch her eye your heat with a lick of her lips.  
You gasp and jolt as you feel her rubbing two fingers up and down your slit gathering your slick and spreading it all around. Her free hand holds you in place with a bruising grip on your hip as she surveys your face to check you’re okay. She was so, so angry at you but the thought of hurting you almost made her stop for a second, she only didn’t because of the quiet whine that left your lips as you wiggled your hips at her slightly trying to signal what you need. 
“Ask for it or you’re not getting it.” You roll your eyes before sighing and accepting defeat on this one occasion knowing that if there was ever a time to not hit her with a snarky rebuttal, now was the time. 
“Please fuck me, Ellie.” Your words set something off inside her and she immediately plunged two of her long fingers inside you as the other hand left your hip to rub tight circles harshly on your throbbing clit. You groan at the sudden intrusion as you push back, your needy hole sucking her fingers in even deeper as you shudder. Her hands were bigger than yours so her fingers reached places you never had and the feeling had your eyes rolling back in your head. She curled her fingers to abuse your sweet spot as her assault on your core only quickened, your body was on fire as you trembled and moaned. “Oh fuck Ellie, please... keep going.” You can barely get the words out through bated breaths and a mixture of groans and moans as you clamp your eyes shut focusing on chasing your high that was racing at you like lightning. “I’m so close oh my god.” As quick as your release approached, it dwindled away as Ellie removed her fingers from you and flipped you over. 
She could barely feel the achey pain in her body as she stared down at the prickly expression on your face. You open your mouth to question her but before you can she slips her fingers that were shiny from your arousal into your mouth, making you gag as she pushes them in to the knuckles.  
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” She uses her hand in your mouth to manoeuvre your head into a nod that she can’t help but smile at. It was the first time you had seen her smile since you started dancing at the bar so the sight warmed you until her face dropped once again. With her free hand she yanked down her bottoms in the same fashion she did yours before climbing on top of one of your thighs to slot you both together at the hips. She brings the thigh she isn’t straddling to rest over her shoulder as she bites at your calf, you wince at the sting, but the pain is immediately replaced by pleasure as she begins to grind herself down onto you, hard and fast. Her face screws up as her eyes clamp shut ignoring the way yours were staring holes into her as she chased her high. Your moans became muffled to her as she uses you to get herself off. You’re seeing stars as her hips begin to stutter in their rhythm but once again, the feeling goes as quick as it came as she finishes with a guttural groan and stills her hips on yours.  
“No, no, no.” You whine to yourself as you throw your head back in frustration until you feel her climb off you and yank you up from the bed so you’re standing in front of her. She doesn’t wait before she spins you around and starts walking you backwards to the door. As you realise what she’s doing panic takes over and you wrap your arms around her in a death grip as you plead with her. “No, please Ellie. Come on, let’s talk. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She reaches the still open door from earlier and pushes you off her past the doorframe. She slams the door in your face before she can even see you stagger from the force of her push. 
You consider storming back in there but decide now wasn’t the time before dragging yourself to your room where you shut the door and immediately curl up on your bed as you pull the covers over yourself. You hug your knees tightly to your chest as the tears begin to fall. You had sex with Ellie, for the first time, and she kicked you out afterwards without a second thought. You weren’t angry, you understood why she did it, but it didn’t hurt any less. 
You fall asleep still hugging yourself tightly trying to pretend it’s Ellie’s who’s embracing you and that you aren’t alone right now. But you are. 
tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699
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