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#but im not set on their hair or crowns
losingchipmunk · 7 months
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Potential designs for the Dreamtale twins:
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Dream's cloak (/shawl??):
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I still can't draw skeletons- trust me I've tried
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vexick · 2 years
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HAD A DREAM THESE TWO BEAT ME UP
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astyr-art · 1 year
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more mermay art!!! yeehaw. this time its a revamp of an old adventure time oc from when i was like 13. her name is sea princess and i can remember literally nothing else about her lmao
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freyito · 4 months
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ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ꜰʟʏ
✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader
✩ inspo: BOOTHILL DAY!!!
★ summary: Boothill tends to be a little clingy when he's charging, cause he has nothing to do! C'mon, kiss him! Nothing'll happen, he promises!
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✧ a/n: happy belated boothill day :')... i currently have him e5s1 but im going for e6, i might try and get s2... if you havent gotten boothill yet, may you all be boothill havers!!!!
🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, short n sweet, proofread
✎ wc: 1k
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Boothill has nothing to do when he’s charging, especially when he’s at home. Which should be a blessing, he doesn’t have to sit in the middle of nowhere for at least two hours. You could get him all sorts of things to keep himself occupied at home, cards, board games, pull up some old western, and he’d still complain about how bored he is.  Not to mention, he’s especially clingy. He protests if you leave his sight for a second.
You had gotten home after a long day of work, tired out and aching. Boothill was on the couch, face down, grumbling about something while charging. He just looks sooooo miserable, hair cascading over his face, messy, as if he had just woken up from a nap. He kicks his feet like a kid, the motion occupying him.
Yet when he hears you come home, his head pops up like a dog, and if he was one, his tail would be wagging. His face lights up immediately and pushes his hair to the side, running his fingers through it and petting it down to make sure he doesn’t look like too much of a mess. You don’t get a chance to complain about your day before he’s beckoning you closer, cursed by the distance between you two and his damn charging cable.
“C’mere,” Boothill’s sheepish smile is quickly replaced with that confident toothy grin you’ve come to know as home. “I’ve been soooo lonely, buttercup…”
Boothill could support you on his own easily, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life, but you still chose to work, to give you some semblance of normalcy. There was nothing wrong with some extra cash in your pocket, anyways. Even if Boothill had complained that sitting still in one place would set the IPC off on him and probably you, too. He was never home much, anyways, so you felt as if there was no need to worry.
You saunter over to Boothill, sitting down in his lap, the cowboy wrapping his arms around you near immediately. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting out a low hum of content. His hands roam your body, no idea what he was searching for, he just had the need to feel. He himself visibly relaxes as he does so, content to have you home and in his arms once more. You don’t have much to say– not that you need to– and simply enjoy the moment, watching as his hands glide from your hips to your stomach, before pulling you impossibly closer and squeezing you like you were a teddy bear.
“Missed you…” He mumbles once more, leaning over your shoulder and trailing kisses down your cheek, enjoying the warmth of human skin once more. If you were to point out how clingy he was, he’d adamantly deny the fact, yet would still find a way to get all up in your DNA.
Slowly, he trails the kisses from your cheek to your lips, and when your lips meet, sparks fly, literally. Or atleast, it feels like it. You pull away abruptly with a small ‘ow’, placing a hand over your mouth. Boothill gives you a confused and dejected look, before the lightbulb goes off in his head.
“What? Am I… electrifyin’?” He asks with a heavy voice, laden with exhaustion (can he even feel that?) and mirth. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the silly pun, and he leans in for another kiss. You try to avoid it, but he catches you, and places another shocking kiss on your lips. After several more, you manage to wrench yourself free from his grip pushing yourself off of him. “Awh, c’mon! Don’t just–”
“Nuh uh,” You shush him, crossing your arms, turning your head, and pouting. “I’ll kiss you after you finish charging.”
“Wait, c’mooon!” Boothill starts, sitting up from the couch and reaching for you. His hands graze over your shoulder, yet he was unable to move further due to the limits of his charging cable. You took one teeny tiny step back so you were just out of reach. “Don’t do this, baby! Pleaaase!”
Boothill begs you like you were breaking up with him, he’s one step away from getting on his knees and groveling for you to come back… as in step closer. He does his best to give you puppy eyes, but the most that does is unsettle you a little, the way his eye locks on with you and glowing a faint red. All you do is stand there and watch, taking another step back.
“Fudge…. c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…! Ain’t I just the sweetest?” He desperately pleads his case, as if you being in his arms is the only way he could possibly live. “I won’t kiss you ‘til I’m done charging! I swear! Just let me hold you? Pretty pretty muddle-fudgin’ please?”
His pleas fall on deaf ears as you turn on your heels to leave him whining and grumbling, deciding that you would like to make dinner. Perhaps wind down a little after work, maybe read a book… all things Boothill tried to protest, but ultimately, after ten minutes of you in the kitchen making yourself food, he finally went quiet.
When you come out of the kitchen, bowl of pasta in hand, he’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, pouting like a child. He was muttering things to himself, some that you caught which were curses, sometimes your name, and other words. When you come into the living room, he turns his head and gives you the silent treatment for once. You don’t mind this, sitting down on an armchair across from him, eating your food in silence.
Boothill can’t stay silent forever, nor can he wallow forever. Only after five minutes of you being there, he breaks, staring you down with his attempt at puppy eyes once more. Charging takes forever, and he wants to have you in his arms now. He can run on 40% battery for a little while, anyways. He unlatches the charging cable and practically runs over to you (over such a short distance…), cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
“One more kiss? Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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emmyrosee · 4 months
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Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰
oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)
———
“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”
“Okay.”
“And her melts are in the cabinet!”
“I know, I live here too.”
“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“
“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”
“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.
But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”
“Of course I do, but-“
“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”
You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”
“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“
“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”
Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”
“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”
“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”
“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.
He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“
“Sukuna!” You snap.
“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.
The colors are good stimulation.
“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?
A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.
By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.
He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.
“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”
With that, you come home.
He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”
“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”
“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“
“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”
When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”
Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.
He loves that his small family fits in his arms.
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saturngalore · 6 months
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akua locs set 🌙
once again, happy april! im back with a very elegant dreadlock updo inspired by this hairstyle worn by akua shabaka (the namesake for this)! im not sure about the origin of the hairstyle itself but i used ghanaian (akan) influences and names for this set! this set also comes with 3 accessories that i frankenmeshed myself: the adjwoa hair jewelry (13 swatches, located in the right eyebrow piercing section), the asante cowrie shells crown (1 swatch, located in the right eyebrow piercing section), and the osram adinkra headpiece (24 swatches, located in the hat section). the headpiece can be used with either the shells or the jewelry (not both!) and it can also fit on other hairstyles besides this one! i wanna give a huge thanks to @yuyulie for helping me so much with this hair process especially with telling me how to do the weight paint for the accessories! im always grateful for them 😭🫶🏾🙏🏾 also tysm for @aestralia for kinda pushing me to do this hair because it was in my pinterest inspo board but i genuinely believed i couldn’t do it and yet here it is! i worked really hard on this so pls enjoy y’all <3
base game compatible (bgc)
maxis palette (24 swatches)
teen-elder
both frames
not hat compatible (some accessories can fit!)
distortion might occur with the cowrie crown and the hair jewels (especially on bigger sims or sims with bigger heads…it’s my first time making accessories im so sorry 😭)
custom thumbnails
disallowed for random
all lods
please tag me if you do use my cc! i would absolutely love to see it! also, please let me know if you encounter any issues with my cc! here’s my tou. i hope y’all enjoy it <3
download via simsharefile (sfs) or on my patreon - ALWAYS FREE!
tysm to cc rebloggers! @public-ccfinds @sssvitlanz
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snippit-crickit · 10 months
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wee oo wee oo discworld doodle dump (and i mean really doodle)
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(cheery, i love her)
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small nobby!!
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+ i love that angua got comforted by sybil and vimes,,,, i like how people point out that angua and vimes are kinda similar, how they both have a darker side and are loved by someone who they feel is too good for them sometimes.... and how vimes taught angua some dirty street fighting moves that she uses on wolfgang, absolute dad moment
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also carrot, now that im looking at it his hair looks crown-ish, i might go into that direction more some other tidbits under the cut
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vimes as a dog vimes as a dog
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vimes playing the werewolf game........ god dammit i gotta draw more stuff from fifth elephant this was absolutely epic, so was night watch
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((tried to sketch out the werewolf game, failed miserably))
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height headcanons? more or less
and wuffles......patricians terrier ((also shoutout to the one person who set out one of my vimes arts as their discord pfp i love when people use my art as pfp's aaargfhn im glad you enjoy)) ok thats all i could gather, i am constantly doodling discworld characters theyre running in my head like little creatures but its hard to gather it up all in a post grhn
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mariasont · 4 months
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hi 🫶🏻 i was thinking maybe you could write spencer x reader inspired by taylor's I look in people's windows? for the plot it could be something like they were really close friends and reader was obviously in love with him but then he met meave and distanced himself from her, or maybe that he blames the reader for meave's death and is avoiding her, idk, whichever you prefer!!
i love your works, you're so good at writing!!
When the Swallows Come Again - S.R
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a/n: hi my lovely you just know me tooooooo well. a swiftie plot line you ask? i am at your service
no but fr thank u so so sooo much for requesting i love YOU! 🫶🏼
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x gn!reader (im pretty sure pls correct me if i added any use of pronouns)
summary: spencer blames you for maeves death…or so you thought
warnings: angst! (happy endings, yes ik im feeling gracious), talk of death, blood, guns, usual criminal minds stuff
wc: 2.5k
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The asphalt beneath your boots felt gritty, the sound muffled by the thick blanket of snow. With one hand, you tried to guard your face from the snowflakes that seemed determined to kiss your skin. They might seem pretty from inside, but out here, they were just another reminder of your inadequate clothing against the biting cold.
The first rays of the sun began to stretch across the concrete, painting long shadows in its wake. Although you could have found your way in the pitch black if needed. Most places were still closed, but you knew that a coffee shop you used to love would be open. It wasn't your top choice, mainly because of the fact that you might bump into--
Him.
You knew it was him before you even saw his face, the hairs on your arm standing at attention as you stopped dead in front of the window.
It was Spencer, unmistakable even from a distance, his distinctive curls made into a celestial crown by the cafe's soft light. Your heart stumbled, plummeting down to your shoelaces. A thousand emotions crashed around you, a vortex happening to quick to untangle. These were feeling you had buried down, far deeper than six feet, hoping they'd never resurface. But that, you realized, was just wishful thinking.
You watched from behind the glass, feeling like a stranger to the world that Spencer now inhabited--a world where you once had a seat at his table. Now, you were the outsider, the unwanted observer. The sound of his laughter, which once was a comforting sound, now seeped through the door's crack, a mocking reminder of a severed tie. Your friendship was one that had bloomed like the first flowers of spring.
But flowers wither, and seasons change.
With Spencer out of your life, a subtle death crept over you, eroding you piece by piece. It was a death characterized by the loud allegations, the quiet of words left unsaid, and a friendship that had crumbled because he blamed you for Maeve's death.
Not just blamed, he hated you.
He hated you because you had tried to save Maeve, but you just weren't quick enough, because you couldn't beat the onset of gunfire, because you went in instead of him. You knew the cost: if he went in, he wouldn't have come back out. You didn't regret that choice. He's alive and breathing, and that's worth any cost--even if it means he never spoke to you again.
But there he stood, living and breathing--just as you intended, and suddenly your body seemed to malfunction. Your feet might as well have been part of the pavement, the snowflakes assaulting your face just as Maeve's blood did that day. Your heart threatened to burst, racing with a ferocity that set your veins on fire. You were scorching alive, and it was 17 degrees. 
In the aftermath, Spencer had taken himself off the grid, locked himself in his apartment, and you didn't take it to heart because his withdrawal was all- encompassing. He was avoiding everyone. But then he came back, and it was as if you alone were invisible to him. You tried, with every fiber of your being, to bridge to gap, for him to let you be his best friend again, but your attempts were met with biting remarks and thinly veiled jabs.
It was exhausting. But he was grieving so you felt like he deserved a pass. He had been through so much, more than anyone on the team. Surely, if anyone deserved a pass, it was him. However, even the most generous pass has an expiration date, and six months of disregard made it challenging to keep validating the same worn-out ticket.
So, you submitted your transfer papers to the narcotics unit. You wanted to say a proper goodbye, but you weren't sure he'd care. So, you didn't. You waited until the office was empty, then disappeared without a trace. 
But it didn't hardly matter that you weren't physically around him because you found yourself searching for signs of him in everything you did. 
When you pulled on your socks, memories of his mismatching habit surfaced, and the way he'd cheekily taunt you for your staunch preference for matching white ones. When you went to the grocery store, you'd unintentionally wander to the aisle with the dark chocolate almonds, his favorite.
Every time a swallow flitted across your path, you were reminded of him. "Swallows return to the same place every year, but not the same partner," he had once explained.
The thought always stuck to you, like gum on the sole of your shoe, because now it was a poignant parallel to your own stupid, fractured bond. Connections were never meant to endure. You knew that now.
It was too late to reverse course when he spun around, catching you red-handed. Your mouth flapped open, a fish out of water, as you willed your feet to moved forward. The need for coffee paled in the comparison to the need to leave. But his reflexes outmatched yours, and the door swung open before you could make an escape.
He said nothing, just stared, and you came to a near-instant stop, narrowly avoiding a collision. The frosty air of your breath fogged the space between you, briefly distorting your view of him, softening his edges into the Spencer you once knew.
Now that he was within arm's reach, you could discern the finer aspects of his face. He looked good, tired, but good. He always looked good, but time had sculpted his features into something more profound. His hair had grown out, curling at the ends, and a stubble now sketched the contours of his face. 
"Hey."
Had you not been so captivated by the shape of his mouth, the faint sound would have been swallowed by the buzzing in your ears.
"Hey," you whispered, but even that was too much for your shaky voice, breaking mid-greeting and leaving you exposed before him. "I'm sorry, I had no idea you'd be here. Um, I should probably just--"
You maneuvered around him, pushing down the vomit of words rising in your throat, consciously fighting the impulse to catalog every line of his face, cognizant of the fact that it might just be the last time you'd see him.
His hand clasped your wrist, and you were suddenly you were the newest member of the BAU again, rubbing elbows with the boy genius, telling him all your secrets with the exception of one. How madly in love you were with him. Were? Are? Past tense? Present tense? You tried not to think about it.
You were frozen in time—not solely from the physical restraint but from the searing sensation of his touch, a feeling you hadn't known in ages, as if igniting your skin through your sleeve.
"Wait, please," he pleaded, the desperation is his voice anchoring you to the spot. You turned back to face him, finding your faces nearly touching. You shifted, intending to create space, but his grip on your arm didn't drop, so you didn't move. "How have you been?"
The question threw you off guard, and it filled your stomach with an irrepressible swarm of butterflies, a feeling so alive against the biting cold that stung at your nose.
Your fingertips were going numb.
"I'm okay, you?" A complete lie.
You racked your brain for the last time you felt okay. Perhaps it was before Spencer had started talking with Maeve. You didn't even know about it at first, that might have been the worst part. He was your best friend, and he had omitted such a significant detail of his life from you.
He just started to distance himself, forging a gap between the two of you that seemed to rival the expanse of the Grand Canyon. Perhaps it was an overstatement, but as the events unfolded, the comparison felt justified. 
The change began imperceptibly, almost cruelly gradual. You would have preferred a quick yank of the Band-Aid, but it was a prolonged, painful peeling. The first sign was him not jumping at the chance to be partnered on cases like he usually did. Then, it progressed to him choosing seats away from you on the jet, and finally, it escalated to him leaving the room all together when you were in it.
It was an achy feeling, an all-consuming soreness that infiltrated every inch of your being. You didn't understand, didn't know what you did wrong. It wasn't long after this you found out about Maeve.
And then, as if fate had dealt its cruelest hand, she died, and suddenly it was your fault. You became the villain in his eyes, condemned for your hesitance, and because you refused to let him die. Maybe it could be seen as selfish, but without him, you would be nothing.
Yet here you were living without him all the same.
His inspection was more thorough than you were ready for. It stirred an urge within you to shrink away, to sprint into the anonymity of the dark streets, but your feet remained rooted to the spot.
"I've been better," he admitted, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite place.
"Oh," you begam, the syllable suspended in the frigid air, but before your thoughts could coalesce into words, Spencer cut through the silence.
"Why did you leave?"
Your brows pinched together, your mouth agape as a singular heartbeat was lost--and then several more. "You can't be serious."
He looked confused. "What? No, Hotch never really told us your reasoning."
The taste of a bitter laugh lingered at the edge of your lips. "Spencer, we don't need to do this whole act, okay? We don't have to pretend that I left for any reason other than you."
"Because of me?" His hands glided upward, pausing on your shoulder, and you loathed the part of you that wanted to lean into him. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you kidding?" The words tumbled out, blinking away the tears of frustration that threatened to spill. "Spencer, I'm not stupid. I know you hate me. I know you blame me for what happened with Maeve. And I get it, you were grieving, and you had every right to be mad, and I just couldn't work there anymore."
"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," he cut in, his tone was sharp, yet somehow not unkind. "God, I don't hate you. I could never hate you."
"How can you stand there and say that?" you countered, your voice hurt and incredulous as you took a step away, the cold seeping into your bones and setting your teeth on edge. "You treated me like I was nothing, Spencer."
"Here," Spencer said, handing you his jacket. "You should know, prolonged exposure to cold weather can actually weaken your immune system."
"Oh," you said, slightly startled, feeling the warmth take hold in your cheeks. You rubbed your nose before pulling the jacket over your shoulders. It smelled just like him.
"I don't hate you, you know that, right?" Spencer's voice was soft, like he was whispering even though you were the only two on the street. "I'm sorry if I made you feel insignificant. You're far from it. You could never be nothing. But I was mad, and I let that get the better of me."
"But I tried, Spencer," you choked out, voice wavering, emotion thick in your throat. "I tried to save her. Maybe if I had more training, more experience... I know you wish I had let you be there instead, but I couldn't risk it, not with what I knew. And now our friendship is ruined and I--,"
"Hey, whoa, slow down," Spencer interjected, cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn't even noticed. "You think I blame you? Oh, my god, no, sweetheart. I was angry, yes, but it was because you were willing to step in front of a gun."
"You don't blame me?"
"Of course I don't," he breathed out as if he couldn't believe this is what you thought. "I'm so sorry for giving you that impression. It was never my intention."
Your emotions bubbled over into a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I really missed you."
Spencer's heart seemed to shatter than mend in an instant as he drew you against him. "Can I kiss you?"
Giggles spilled out through chattering teeth, punctuating the air as a wide smile graced your lips. "You want to kiss me?" 
"I want to kiss you."
The idea almost seemed to sweet to be true.
"Okay."
He kissed you, and with each snowflake that settled into your hair, Spencer drew you in closer. In a way that you had only dreamed of. The biting cold was there, but it paled in comparison to the blaze that was now ignited through your body. 
It was perfect, everything you had imagined and more--real, warm, and grounding. 
He pulled away slowly, blinking the same speed, snowflakes dusting his lashes like delicate frost.
“I know I’ve been… difficult,” he said, his voice rough, his breath wanting your frozen cheek at the same time.
You pressed a hand to his chest. “Spencer, you don’t have to explain.”
A moment passed, as if he were thinking about your offer, then his gaze found yours, piercing and profound, as if the solid ground you stood on was suddenly fragile.
“But I need to,” he said, the raw need in his voice pulling your straight back into the orbit of his words. “I was angry, yes, you almost got yourself killed. But I pushed you away because it was far easier than facing the fear that I might lose you too.”
The beats of your heart echoed loudly—thump, thump—in its bony cage as your fingers curled tightly into his shirt.
“Every time I looked at you, I saw what I could have lost, and that fucking terrified me.”
Spencer cussed, this wasn’t unusual, but the intensity behind it made you frown. His words, so honest, seemed pull you in, invading his personal space in an effort to get rid of yours.
“You’re not going to lose me.”
The sun was shining now, casting golden rays over the snow and Spencer’s face, framing him just as he was in your mind.
“Then let’s not waste anymore time.”
You love him. Present.
For a second you thought Spencer might be wrong because maybe, just maybe, swallows could return to the same place, and the same partner after all.
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taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf
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byuntrash101 · 1 year
Text
first flight to hongkong
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sub!reader x dom!ot8ateez (yes, of all of them. yes, all at the same time)
smut | nsfw | mdni
18.3k (so much filth and im not even sorry)
yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips
nsfw tags under the cut
this tag list is looong so grab a seat sweetie...idol!au, a tad of plot, ateez’ love language is gift giving (yes it’s relevant), kink negotiation, color system safe words, flight attendant & sex worker!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle, some are meanies depends on the member. hwa is both lol) gangbang, sir kink, impact play (spanking, kitty & face slapping), pain play, nipple play, use of toys, unprotected but safe sex (birth control + tested) (we love to see it), fingering (f), squirting, dacryphilia, orgasm control (f), overstim, slight corruption kink (they enjoy ruining you idk if it counts), very light foot fetish (yunho (pun intended) who this is about), marking, oral (f & m), deepthroat, praising, degradation (slut, whore), pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, good girl, doll, kitten, each of them kinda uses the pet name they like), anal, double penetration, mingi is big, yunho is bigger, so much praising, lowkey voyeurism/exhibitiosnim, brief mxm (woo jerks off san. ofc it had to be woosan), facial, manhandling, !!!!optional!!!! watersports (this post is the no watersports version. if u want the kinky version click here ♡).
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN'T ENJOY.
a/n: this is an idol!au and it's taking place right after the break the wall show in paris. so hongjoong isn't blueberry yet (he's blonde) and mingi is pinkgi because i wanted him to be (even though the pink had faded completely by then). that being said im super duper excited to finally publish this. it's been such a journey for me please overlook any typos or mistakes and i really wanted every single member to get the spotlight and that's how you end up with 18k... but i garantee whoever your bias you'll see him in this. i hope you enjoy <3
ateez masterlist | navigation
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You check yourself one last time in the bathroom mirror of your Parisian hotel room. Normally your employer always booked you the smallest, cheapest hotels. But this time you have a beautiful room with a magnificent view on the busy Parisian and picturesque streets. You can even see the Eiffel Tower pierce the sky in the horizon line. 
You sigh as you look at your untouched croissant and coffee, they turned cold a long time ago. You lay a hand on your knotted stomach, you are not hungry. You are stressed. Actually, no. Stressed is an understatement. You are a nervous wreck. 
You fight the urge to bring your fingers to your mouth to bite your perfectly manicured nails, that were painted with a light coat of pinkish nude nail polish and instead tuck in a loose strand of hair back in your impeccably sleek low bun. The last touch up to make the rest of the look absolutely perfect. 
To go along with nude nails, you have light makeup focusing mainly on skin. High end foundation giving you the airbrush look paired with a peachy blush that complimented your skin tone nicely. Some very subtle contouring on your cheeks and jawline and highlighting on the bridge of the nose and above the cheekbones. And to finish it off mascara that elegantly elongated your lashes and underlined your gaze.
Before you slipped on the navy blue uniform over the beautiful white lace Balmain lingerie set. You sprayed a light touch of Banglore by Carven on to your chest, wrists, behind both ears and a touch on the crown of your head. The scent was very unique unlike any women's perfume you tried before. It was a contrasted scent of sandalwood and amber with a touch of vanilla that lingered to soothe the warm spices. It was balanced and elegant.
Regarding the lingerie, the luxurious white set fit you so well that it looked sewed onto your skin. The bra lifted your breasts and the panties sat very high on your waistline making your bottom rounder. 
You slipped on the light blue blouse and the navy skirt under a fitted blazer that matched the skirt. You also wore white thigh high tights. Yves Saint Laurent sleek black stiletto pumps. The shoes gave an elegant arch to your feet which was worth the discomfort. And last but not least the signature flight attendant beret, that had your company’s logo embroidered onto the side that read “Air France”.
You added to the look a very fine and discreet 24k gold chain around your neck and tahitian pearl earrings. 
And that was the completed look. At least this part of the request you could fulfill.
Because, yes, every single detail about your look today was requested and revised by your client. The jewelry, the lingerie, the perfume, the make up, the nails, the shoes. Everything was hand picked by him for you. 
It was your very first time attending the VIPs. Never in a million years you thought you would get there in your career but the rumor was that when the client was handed out the photos of the VIP attendants he requested to have the info of all the attendants the company employed and out if the hundreds of women he saw he picked you. So how could you not be stressed? This man (that was probably very influential) had set the bar really high and you on the other hand didn't have any past experiences to even wrap your mind around what was "setting the bar high" in this context. You were a total noob and you felt (you were) under prepared to cater the very specific needs of the VIPs. 
But after all, the company only offered the position to you. They never forced your hand. You could have said no. But the compensation that came with it was alluring to say the least. That added to the luxurious setting of it all. Getting to mingle with the rich and famous… even in that way… it tipped the balance towards the yes, to the detriment of your morals. But maybe you should have said no…
In the taxi from the hotel to the airport you couldn't enjoy the beautiful scenery of the maze of narrow and paved streets. You were too busy fidgeting with your perfectly manicured hands and trying vainly to swallow the lump inside your throat. 
You thanked the taxi driver and walked mechanically to the terminal, slaloming between the businessmen in between two flights and the lost tourists absentmindedly walking with their noses up and squinted eyes looking for directions.
When your feet hit the tarmacked runway making your heels click against it, you finally saw the aircraft away. It was unlike anything you worked with before. You were used to the huge boeings with the multiple rows and the numerous portholes but this one was a jet. The nose of the plane was narrow and contoured, the body of it was smaller but you could already tell from a distance, far more lavish.
You took a couple of deep breaths on the windy departure runaway to try to calm down. As you were climbing the steps that led to the jet you felt like your knees were about to give out. Thankfully your legs successfully carried you all the way to the clean and luxurious habitacle. 
Talking of luxury, you had never seen such a display of wealth before. Each individual booth was lined with immaculate white leather and stuffed with soft and cushiony material. You could only imagine how comfortable the seat was. Every single detail was impeccable. 
In front of the seat there was a bench where the attendants were meant to sit to wait for the customer requests.
"Hi" The pilot standing in the cockpit greets you. The sudden sound makes you jump. You muster a timid “hey” as a response. 
"Are you ready for the big leap?" He asks, wearing a warm, reassuring smile. 
"No, but I don't think I have enough time in this life to ever prepare for this so..." your words trail off into an awkward laugh. The pilot gently pats your shoulder. 
"Don't worry kiddo if there's anything wrong we're right here." 
"Thanks" 
"The info sheet is over there" he pointed at the small  closed off space, reserved for the attendants right between the VIP seating area and the cockpit. 
"Ready for the checklist, captain?" You heard the voice of the co-pilot ask from the cockpit.
"You'll be alright" he gave you a last confident nod before closing the door. 
And you find yourself completely alone. The space suddenly feels huge. You feel like you will never be able to fill it on your own. Maybe you bit off more than you could chew by accepting this? 
You shake your head to chase the doubts away. You should at least check the info sheet before panicking, you figure. 
You extend your hand to take the note sitting on a small counter next to a locker and a bench. 
On the paper you find your name, your company registration number and your photo. So far so good but it's nothing new. 
You read various info about the flight. Departure: Paris Charles de Gaulle. Arrival: International Airport of Hong Kong. The model of the jet and other details about the time of take off and landing. Still. There's not a single new piece of information to be found.
Then finally you reach the critical part. 
Client name : Ateez. 
You cock one eyebrow in surprise. That's an unusual name for a person. But somehow it sounds familiar…
There’s more information under “safe practices”: the client marked his wish for the service to be performed without physical barriers. All parties involved have been tested. 
You knew that too after the long hours you spent at the hospital yesterday. But the client paid extra just to be able to not use a condom. Fortunately you were already on birth control.
When your eyes glaze over the next title your heart loops inside your chest.
Service request. 
Under this you find a very detailed box list of various practices and... preferences. Many of which you'd have to Google to understand. Ranging from foot fetish to dacryphilia (one of those you had to look up). You didn't even know so many kinks even existed. But as much as you squint none of the boxes were checked. The list is entirely blank except for a hand written comment under "other". 
“To be discussed with the hostess.”
The hostess... that's you. 
The cryptic comment makes you somehow even more nervous. There's not a single piece of useful information on this whole entire form! The experience is already nerve wracking and the fact that the company is letting you figure this one out on your own is making matters much worse. You can’t prepare yourself without any information! 
Well… there’s the name at least, you reasoned with your irrational self. You scramble for your phone from your small purse and type the name in the url bar. 
You should have known not having to type the complete name for it to appear in the research suggestions was a bad sign. 
Thousands of found pages popped up on the small screen. The first one you open is your most reliable source: Wikipedia. 
Ateez (Korean: 에이티즈) is a South Korean boy band formed by KQ Entertainment. The group consists of eight members: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. They debuted on October 24, 2018, with the extended play (EP) Treasure EP.1: All to Zero.
Wait… eight members...... your client is a GROUP of eight men?!?!?!? You click on the royalty free picture provided by the website. Somehow the 8 faces look familiar though you are sure you didn't know about them before today. 
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Your vision starts to get blurry as panic wins over you. Infecting your body via the poisonous adrenaline the frantic organ pumps into each of your limbs. You stumble to sit on the small bench.
You knew the said client was filthy rich. Only the 1% can afford to request such a service from your company but you expected a politician or a silicon valley CEO... not actual celebrities. The kind that sells out arenas and stadiums, the kind that you see on billboards and that make the front pages of magazines.
Then the realization hits you like a train. You did see them before! You attended their flight from Copenhagen to Paris a couple of days ago. That also coincides with when the company proposed this promotion to you... You remember now but they wore masks you didn't get to see their faces properly and the company flies tons of influential people all year round. To you they were just the first class passengers and you took care of them like you would have with any other client. Yes they looked famous but you just didn't check... 
Now there was a difference between bringing them coffee and a hot towel and doing... whatever they were expecting you to do... which you still didn't have the slightest clue about. 
Now you are sure. You did bit off more than you could chew. 
You want to call off the deal. You should just call HR and just tell them to get somebody else on this one. Yes! Yes! You'll do that. There are plenty of other attendants that'd kill to be here so they'll find someone else no problem. 
Right as your thumb is hovering over the number of the HR department you hear rumbles and voices in the tunnel linking the terminal and the aircraft...
Looks like it's too late. 
You act in sole instinct and get up hurriedly, flatten your skirt and head with big strides to stand at the entrance of the plane like you would with any other flight. 
It's okay y/n. You'll be okay. You're always okay. This is just another flight. You've got this. 
You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. The silent prayer calms you down. You pull on your skirt and readjust your blazer, put on your best smile before you see the first shoe peeking up from the elbow of the tube. Followed by a colony of others. Sixteen to be exact, sixteen individual shoes. Yes... Eight. Eight men. 
It's game time. 
One by one the group boards the plane. You professionally greet all of them like you have with any client before. Politely smiling and bowing your head like you did thousands of times. All of them return the polite bow and despite their disguises you see some of them crease their eyes, letting you guess the smile curling up their lips under the masks, the beanies and the bucket hats concealing their faces. 
See? So far so good. You got this. One baby step at a time. 
Over the next few minutes you are able to calm down. You feel completely in control. You install the clients one by one in the separate and spacious seats. You make the final check of the luggage above the seats. Close up all the lockers and check that every passenger has fastened their seat belts correctly. You explain the safety procedures in case of an emergency. Then finally sit in your own seat, the little bench facing the VIPs while the pilot makes his announcement. When the plane accelerates to take off you are back into normality. Your heart has stopped racing and your hands are not clammy or shaking anymore. You no longer feel the need to nervously pull on your nails. 
You are in control. You got this. 
When the “seatbelts on” sign turns off you get up. 
"You may now unfasten your seatbelts if you please." You announced for all of them. And they all did. You saw them taking their jackets and beanies off, getting comfortable as you disappeared in the attending compartment to prepare the refreshments. When you pulled out the small tray they were all seated and had shed the clothes that were hiding their faces.
With each stop you make to pour the beverages you are astonished by their beauty, each member being more beautiful than the last one. You felt your heart flutter more than once when some of them thanked you for your service with a warm smile.
But as everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You can do it as you would discuss any other subject, you tell yourself as a small pep talk. Just have to stay professional. 
You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab on a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 
"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 
"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 
You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 
"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" another one questioned when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 
The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 
"I don't know, the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, Maybe picking up on the agitation showing through your micro habits. 
"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, giving you a clue on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 
At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made you guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 
"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 
"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much so that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 
"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.
"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 
"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 
You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 
"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes, very high cheekbones and a smile that could light up the darkest night, he gave off that aura of a shining star.
"Y-yes" 
So much for not stuttering... 
A murmur of approval collectively emerged from them. 
"And degradation and humiliation?" A deep voice asked, you looked over at the direction of the owner of said voice to find a pastel pink haired man looking right at you. He had sharp features, piercing eyes and a strong brow bone. When you looked at him puzzled he elaborated. "Let's say I want to call you my little slut, my personal little cock sleeve. Or make you bark before I let you cum. How would that sound to you?" 
You gulped as your mind instantly took you to the scenery. Your imagination sending you flashing images of sinful engagements between you and the group of men. Your guts stirred once again. You nodded and threw a glance at the previous man before quickly adding a shy yes (but still audible). Once again they emitted a quiet rumble of appreciation. 
You couldn't believe all the things that you were agreeing to. Sure you had some experience in sub and dom dynamics. Usually you liked to be guided and you let your partner take the lead. And of course you had a couple of light spanks before but that was about it. And the most surprising thing for you was that all of that sounded exciting. Everything sounded appealing to you. Everytime they asked you a question it stirred your stomach in a brand new way. 
"What about knife play?" Hongjoong asked. 
"No, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that one." You replied, almost apologetically. 
"Same for blood play?" He continued and you shook your head. 
"Yes, I don't think I'd enjoy that." 
"Spit play?" You shook your head again. 
"Well I think we covered everything. Guys?" They all agreed with their leader. "Also I see you got the little gifts we got for you" Hongjoong’s gaze slides down your frame to land on the white lace of the thigh high tights that was peeking under your skirt. The way his expression changed when he spotted the article made you swallow thickly. 
"I picked the lingerie set. White is your color, doll" 
You chuckled lightly at the compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"Thank you" you smiled. 
"Yunho, what do you think of the heels?" He asked, turning over to the tall man. 
"Fit you like a glove. You look stunning in those” Yunho replied, giving you a warm smile. The comment made you nervously dangle your feet, which made his eyes instantly drop back to them.
"Wooyoung and Yeosang both decided on the nail color and the make up" both of them nodded in your direction at the mention of their names. 
"This red lip is beautiful on you" Wooyoung complimented while Yeosang stayed silent, only amicably smiling at you. 
"The jewelry is from Mingi" Hongjoong continued as the pink haired man raised his large palm up in the air. 
"The gray pearls really suit your skin tone and the gold chain compliments your neck line. I knew it was the right choice" Mingi's deep voice answered. 
"And Seonghwa is our perfume connoisseur" Hongjoong pointed at the man seated next to him. 
"The fragrance was an easy pick. Elegant and sophisticated, exactly like you" the astonishingly beautiful man shot a wink in your direction. Such a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was completely uncalled for.
"San and Jongho came on the flight with their gifts." The man named San lifted a luxurious looking glossed paper bag. 
You got up straightened your skirt and retrieved it from him then Jongho seated next to him handed you a small case. 
"We’re going to give you time to open those too" Hongjoong said. "This flight is long. We'll have plenty of time to play together. In the meantime, we are going to get some sleep and rest from our tour. Our CEO thought we did so well at our show in Paris he personally booked this service with your company." 
"Thank you for trusting and choosing Air France" you bowed your head respectfully. 
"Oh no, doll. It's not about them it’s about you, y/n" your heart almost stopped at the mention of your name. "'When you attended our flight from Denmark to France you were absolutely perfect and we all collectively thought you would be the best candidate for the extra VIP service. So we were a little disappointed when the company said you weren't part of the VIP crew. But we insisted they at least ask you if that would be interesting for you and we were thrilled to know that you agreed." Hongjoong smiled at you so fondly. Almost like the previous conversation never happened altogether and the VIP service was nothing more than some extra room for your legs in the seat and maybe a wider range of refined liquor to choose from. 
"So we understand it's your first time doing this, right?" San asked. 
"Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes it is" you said a lot more confidently this time. 
"Don't worry it's also our first time" the man grinned, cat-like eyes turning into little crescents as the smile spread on his face. 
"That's exactly why I'll be conducting the meeting" Hongjoong declared, making you peel your eyes off San to look at him. "From now on, you will refer to me only as sir. I know it won't be a problem to you as you used the title a couple of times in the conversation already. But still, do you understand me?" Last sentence was a lot more stern. 
"Yes, sir" you nodded firmly to emphasize your words, making him grin.
“The others are not as strict on the title. You may call them however you’d like. But I only tolerate that you refer to me correctly. Understood?”
“Yes, sir”
"Good girl" he smiled again but this time it was somehow not as wholesome and you took in a slow shaky breath to attempt to calm your heart that was hammering against your ribs. 
"During the rendezvous I'll be checking on you to see if everything is good with you. We'll use the color system." You nodded, listening attentively. "If everything is going well and you are enjoying your time with us when I ask you for your color you will say green." You nodded again. "If things are getting intense and you are approaching your limit you will say orange. At the word we won't stop but we will take it down a notch allowing you to breathe until your color is back on green and you feel comfortable again. If you are overwhelmed or if one of us does or says anything that makes you want to stop everything just say red and we will all stop. Right, doll?" 
"Yes sir" 
"I want you to know that you have full control over this. Under no circumstances you have to wait for me to ask for your color to share it with us. As soon as you feel that things are getting out of hand, say orange or red, okay ?" 
"Understood, sir" 
"Well then. Why don't you take this time to go open San and Jongho's presents while we take a little well deserved nap" 
"Yes, sir" you politely bowed and took your leave in the small reserved space for the attendants between the cabin and the cockpit. 
As soon as you close the door you let the stress of the conversation out with a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door and letting your head rest on it, the cold feeling on your heated skin keeping you in touch with reality as everything seemed so surreal. 
That was a lot to take in but somehow you didn't feel as nervous as you did before. Sure, there are eight of them. Sure, the conversation promised they intended to thoroughly... enjoy... the service but you feel like they value your safety and your comfort. You have a better understanding of the task at hand and no matter how complex and draining said task was going to be, knowing the boundaries of it was reassuring. You knew what they wanted from you. 
After a couple of minutes you used to ground yourself back down to earth (ironic isn't it?) You laid the paper bag and the case on the small bench. 
You undid the nice black velvet bow that was tying the bag together and took out what looked like a neatly folded uniform. But upon closer examination something looked off with the fabric. You unfolded the blouse. It was an exact replica of the light blue one you were wearing right now except it was made from fine mesh making it completely see through. You laid the article on the bench and unfolded the skirt. The length was ridiculously short and you know you'll have to walk up straight if you don't want your bum to be showing. But you guess it's the exact purpose of it. When you flip it too look at the back you know for a fact that the skirt was designed with the idea of exposing you in mind. You realized the navy blue cotton has two holes cut out to let both of your butt cheeks hang out of them. 
You lay the shirt next to the blouse. Deciding that this gift is a little intense and you'll get back to that one. 
You hand glazes over the case Jongho brought and you flip the attachments to open it. When you lift the lid you are greeted with a collection of different toys. All more colorful than the previous one. There's everything you could imagine. And more that you would actually need. You find a note that read “wear me” taped to a strangely shaped one. 
You grab the purple silicon toy and unfold the note. 
A remote control had been handed to each member. Please wear this one. For the other ones they're all yours pick the ones you like. 
You are hesitant for a second but this was exactly what you signed up for and it was our duty to fulfill the client’s wish. So you breathed in a deep slow and steady breath before carefully  slipping off your clothes. You were vigilant enough not to smudge your makeup and pull the wispy hair out of your sleek bun. You pull down the white thong just low enough on your thighs to be able to put the toy in. 
You almost gasp when you spot the wet patch on the lace, making the fabric slightly transparent. It's subtle but you can't believe you got this… excited from this simple conversation. Simply imagining the propositions they were presenting to you. 
You push the cylindrical part of the toy inside, biting your lip to repress a moan as the silicon easily glides inside you. The rest of the toy hangs out and lays over your clit. You swiftly pull the thong back up. At first you feel strange from this foreign object nested inside you but soon you grow accustomed to it. 
From the rest of the panoply of toys you picked out a simple decently sized metal plug that had a heart shaped pink gem stone at the end. You figured the rest of the ensemble will certainly look gaudy enough and you chose to disregard the various gag balls and nipple clamps. 
You put on the new uniform even going as far as to pin your name tag to the see through blouse. 
And the look is complete. The skirt is so small that it barely reaches the crease of your bum. Not that it makes a difference since the two holes leave little to the imagination. The lace of the thigh high tights are on full display and the same applies to the white lace bra underneath the see-through blouse. 
Saying you feel exposed is an understatement but still. You were almost at the two hour mark on this flight. You figure that the easiest way to deal with the embarrassment is to just plainly and simply ignore it. Go out there and work just as usual. And it's time to prepare the tray of refreshments. 
You step out of the attendant room to walk the central aisle to the back of the jet where the fridges and the carts are. You can't help but to feel a little relieved when you see the eight men wearing their eye masks. Maybe they aren't all sleeping but they are at least not seeing you like this, at least not right now. It buys you some time to get used to your new attire.
You prepare the various alcoholic beverages, the cold sodas and the hot tea and coffee before you take a deep breath. And push the cart in. There's only one member that the rattling of the cart seemed to have woken up, Seonghwa. 
With trembling hands you push the cart down the aisle to his level. 
"Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, liquor?" You manage to ask in the most natural way possible. Careful to speak at an appropriate volume level to not disturb the others. 
"Coffee. Black, please" the handsome man replies. 
You take a cup and pour some scolding hot coffee for him. Your tensed hands around the cup betray your edge as you hand out the beverage, the dark liquid swaying in its recipient. But Seonghwa gently wraps both his warm hands around yours and around the cup. 
"Thank you. It's perfect" he gently whispers, looking at you with a reassuring, beaming smile that you return instantly. 
You push the tray back in, as it seems no one else is interested in a drink. When you go back to your seat that faces the members the help indicator lights up above one of the seats. 
"Sir, may I help you with anything." You asked San. 
"No" he whispered, careful not to wake up Jongho  sleeping between both of you since he was in the window seat. "I just wanted to say you look absolutely stunning. You wear the uniform beautifully" he held out something to you. When you opened your palm it was two shriveled bills of five hundred euros. You almost audibly gasped. Before you could say thank you he continued "I can't wait to peel it off of you later". You feel your knees getting weaker as San’s gaze gets sharper. You don't know how you manage to keep your composer as well as you do.
"Of course. Whenever you are ready, sir" you replied, as you felt your insides flutter under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Let's let them sleep a little first, kitten" you bit your lip at the pet name and you smiled back at him before going back to your seat to catch a breather. 
For the next two hours. The flight is absolutely uneventful and feels like any other day on the job. You even have enough time to forget about the skimpy (to say the least) skirt, the see through blouse and the lace. And even about the toy still inside you. 
You go back and forth between the aisles fetching drinks, small pillows and snacks fulfilling one typical and ordinary request after the other. This feels so routinely that you find yourself feeling a little... disappointed. 
What you didn't notice is how one by one the members emerged from their slumbers. You didn't notice that as the number of requests increased their usefulness decreased as their main purpose was to watch you walk up and down the aisle to see your breasts jiggle under the see-through blouse or your ass roll in the conveniently placed holes of your skirt.
And as you were closing the compartment above Jongho’s head, you lifted both of your arms up which caused your skirt to rile up your hips. Letting the lacey underwear peep from underneath it. That’s when Jongho spotted the purple color seeping through the white of the lace. That encouraged him to take out his remote.
The vibrations took you by surprise and you let one small quiet moan slip off your tongue. Immediately pressing your traitorous lips into a thin line. You crease your brows trying to reach the handle to finally close the compartment, trying not to focus on the low vibrations coming from the deepest part of you. 
Jongho can't help but to smirk when he hears the low rumble coming from the toy that is only inches from his face. 
You stagger back to your seat only for the help light to go off again. This time you walk over to Wooyoung. 
"Yes" you take a shaky breath. "May I….ngh…help you with anything?" 
"Yes, my armrest appears to be stuck. I can't seem to pull it down" he says, smirking. 
"There's a small lever on your right you have to pull it to be able to push the armrest down" 
"I tried but I can't make it work. Could you give it a try?" 
There was no way you could reach that far unless you laid over Yeosang's lap to reach Wooyoung’s window seat. One second look at the former and you realized that was exactly what they wanted. So you crouched down and laid on him, your stomach down. Your butt was on his lap while your face was on Wooyoung's thighs. You extended your hand and finally were able to push on the lever but suddenly the vibrations got more intense. You tensed up your back trying not to moan at the new pleasure you felt. 
But you still managed to push on the armrest down. 
"There you go, sir" you replied out of breath. 
"Thank you, baby" Wooyoung said as he pressed his hardening member to your cheek through his trousers, gently caressing the other with his thumb all the while you felt a pair of hands putting to good use the two holes in your skirt. Groping and cupping your ass cheeks. 
You let yourself whine ever so slightly when you spot the purple remote in the large hands of Mingi seated right up front, peeping back at you through the slit between the seats. 
You feel a new vibration coming. This time the setting is changed from the low tiniest vibrations to two short low ones and one long strong one. You can't help but to moan when you see Mingi picking this deadly pace while he smirks back at you through the slit. You feel the familiar build up in your core as Wooyoung rubs himself through his pants on your cheek and Yeosang grabs and massages your ass cheeks. 
You feel your walls dangerously constrict the toy inside you, your flirting with your edge but then the vibrations come to a stop. 
Wooyoung and Yeosang offer a helping hand to get you back on your feet and innocently smile at you. 
"That will be all, thank you, sweetheart" the latter says. Before you nod and go to another customer needing your help: Hongjoong. 
"Sir, may I help you?" 
"What's your color, doll?" The blonde man instantly asks. Still a little dazed you are taken aback by the question. 
"Green, sir" you say as you brought back some loose hair from the bum that was a little roughed up by Wooyoung moments ago. 
"Good" you spot the purple devices in his hand as he switches the toy on once more. At first it’s the same setting Jongho used. The lowest one. This one you could handle but soon Hongjoong’s slender fingers turned the roulette all the way up. 
The feeling is brand new because the source of the pleasure is doubled when you find out the toy can vibrate from two seperate places. You can't help but let out a strangled squeal. The intense setting of the toy instantly skyrockets you to unknown heights. 
"You look unwell, doll. Is everything okay?" Hongjoong asks with a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 
You nod. Heat rushing to your chest and neck. Insufferable pleasure making you weak at the knees. 
"Everything is perfect... mmmh... sir" you manage to say through gritted teeth. You realize the hungry gazes of the group of men are glued to you. Somehow the attention makes the pleasure even more unbearable and you feel like you're going to lose control at any second now. 
Your hands wrap around the headrest of Hongjoong’s seat in an attempt to ground yourself as you feel you are slowly slipping into the abyss. Your heat uncontrollably pulsing around the devilish toy. 
But as soon as you let out a moan that proves to be a little too high pitched. A pitch that betrays your imminent high. Hongjoong's eyes turn into a sadistic glacial gaze and he switches off the device completely. You can't help but to voice out your disappointment with an unpleased whine as you feel yourself pulse into the most infuriating and frustrating ruined orgasm. You look over the blonde man in confusion. 
"Why did you stop, sir?" You ask out of breath, strained voice seeped with desperation.
"Because you were being a bad girl, doll and bad girls don't get rewards." His voice was so stern you couldn't believe he was the same man making sure you were comfortable a second ago. 
"What did I do wrong?" The question sounded a little whiny as your eyes swept over the other men all looking at you with an evil twinkle in the eye. 
Your lost puppy eyes and the sad and desperate little pout made Hongjoong grow bigger in his pants as he was gaining this control over you. He had to fight the urge to immediately palm himself through his pants.
"Were you not about to cum without asking permission first?" you could hear the slightest hint of amusement behind the graveness of his tone.
"I didn't know I h-" 
"Talking back, are we?" You bit your lip, immediately interrupting yourself and looking down at your feet. “I thought you had better manners” Hongjoong said, fainting the disappointment of a strict father.
"I'm sorry, sir" 
"Sorry won't do it with me, doll. Doesn't she deserve punishment. Guys what do you say?" 
All of them nodded and agreed as you let the corner of your mouth fall, heart racing at the mention of the ominous word… Punishment.
"San" 
As soon as the leader called his name San got up and joined you in front of the group. He stepped behind you. 
"Now you'll stay completely still as San performs the punishment. Is this clear?" 
"Crystal clear, sir" you stiffened when you felt the strong hands of the man wrapping around your waist and reach over your stomach. You hold your breath as his fingers busy themselves with your blouse. Unfastening the buttons one by one. He peels the fabric off slowly as you take the sanction as obediently as possible. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you back in Copenhagen'' he whispers quietly, only for you to hear. His warm breath on your skin makes you shiver.
Then he moves to the zipper at the back of the short skirt. The vibration of the zip on your skin makes you shudder as the group of men relishes in seeing you so helpless. 
Soon you are left in only the heels and lingerie set. 
"You did so good baby" the man murmurs before laying a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. 
"On your knees" Hongjoong says and you hastily obliged before he thinks you are being dissident again.
"Now say I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.”
The humiliation and shame makes your cheeks burning hot but still you comply. 
"I-I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.. Sir” you add for good measure.
“Now you’ll crawl to each of us and ask for a spanking. I think 8 spanks is a good start. Right gentlemen?” Once again they collectively agreed.
For a second shame paralyzes you.
“Go ahead, doll. Ask Seonghwa first” you look up at the man.
“Please, sir” you try to swallow a lump.
“Louder, princess” Seonghwa says, taking your chin between his slender fingers, smiling fondly down at his cute little toy.
“P-please Sir” you say louder this time. “Please punish me”
“Of course my princess” he replies in this tender tone. A tone that contrasts with the sharp sound of his palm falling flat on your bottom. You let a small cry slip out your lips as heat rushes to the sensitive patch of skin.
“What do you say, doll?” the blonde man chips in.
“T-Thank you Sir”
You crawled past Hongjoong to Mingi and Yunho’s row.
“Sir please, may I ask you for a spank” you asked Mingi.
The sting that followed had you throwing your head back and suppressing a moan by biting the inside of your cheek. Mingi’s hand was larger and a lot less gentle.
“Thank you” you hiss.
You continue the round, going to one member after the other until both your cheeks feel raw and several hand prints are left visible. You finish with Hongjoong.
“Please Sir, please spank me” you say out of breath, your hazy mind having difficulty putting the words in coherent sentences.
“Color, doll” he says as his hands slips over the sensitive skin, soothing you with gentle caresses.
“Green, sir”
All of a sudden you feel the vibrations deep inside your core again. You can’t help but let out a pleased moan escape your lips. Arching your back letting your head hang down. 
“Oh my g-god” you sigh before biting down on your lip. Hongjoong’s gentle hand wraps around your chin to lift your gaze to his own. His eyes are as dark as can be, an evil grin pulling on his lips.
“You were saying, doll?” he asks with his other hands still drawing soothing circles on your raw ass. “You wanted something from me?” he says, giving you a light squeeze.
You look around and see the other 7 pairs of eyes glued to you. And the sustained gazes and the vibrations send you to flirt with your edge almost instantly. 
“Don’t forget why you’re here, princess” Seonghwa warns you. “You can’t cum before given permission or I fear we will have to do all of that all over again”
“Except I won’t be as nice this time” Hongjoong adds, the gentle hold on your chin becoming a little tighter, blunt nails digging in your cheek. “Ask for your punishment like a good girl and I'll turn it off”
“Please. Please sir! Please spank me”
“Good girl” he says before lifting his palm and letting it fall back against your already sensitive skin. The sharp clap that erupts from the motion sends a spark of electricity straight to your core, lifting goosebumps in its wake.
The pleasurable pain and the tireless vibrations almost had you cumming but with immense resilience and respect for the orders you were given you manage to hold yourself back. 
“Such a good little toy for us, kitten” you hear San praise as the vibrations die down.
When you look back up at Hongjoong you look absolutely fucked out. He smiles at you and rubs soothing circles on your cheek. He can’t help but to feel himself twitch as he sees you look back at him this confused and frustrated. 
“You did really good, doll” Hongjoongs praises “You may rise”
You get up again to walk to the bench. You plop yourself on top of it, barely able to hold yourself on the stiletto heels but at least it’s a relief for your knees.
Suddenly you feel warm and gentle hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up on their lap, when you open your eyes you see it’s Seonghwa.
“You did really good, princess” Seonghwa says as you feel his fingers slip up your back and unclasping your white lace bra. In a split second the lace is off your blazing skin, you feel the air brush against your chest as the other men drink in your form, all eyes roaming this new part of your body revealed to their eyes. You whine softly as you fight the urge to cover yourself, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes just to avoid eye contact with them.
One of Seonghwa’s hands slips over your breasts, massaging the lumps of flesh and teasing your painfully hard nipples while the other one slips around your waist, down your stomach and inside the lace panties. 
You audibly gasp when you feel the toy being pulled out of you, whining at the loss of the fullness of it. You hear the toy bounce off the carpeted floor. 
“You won’t need this anymore now, princess” Seonghwa whispers in your ear before pinching your nipple a little harder. “We’ll take care of you now” You arch your back onto his torso. Immediately he starts rubbing small circles on your swollen clit. You can’t help but moan at the smallest of contact.
“You got so wet for us baby” Yeosang comments, making your eyes snap to him.
“And so sensitive” Jongho adds.
You feel Seonghwa smirk against your ear. Continuing the small and light circles on your clit. Soon you lose patience and start to buck your hips, desperate for friction, desperate for him to apply some pressure. 
“Do you want my fingers, Princess?” Seonghwa asks before planting an open mouth kiss on your neck.
“Yesss, Sir. Yes please” you breathe out, bucking your hips against his hand again. Which makes the older man chuckle against your skin.
“Take these off then, princess” He says, catching the white lace of your thong and letting it slap against your skin. Hurriedly you briefly lift your butt to shimmy out of the lace and let the fabric rest on one of your ankles. When you sit back down you feel your raw ass rub against Seonghwa’s clothed hard on, earning a low grunt from him.
“Spread your legs, Princess” Seonghwa says as he lightly caresses your thigh. 
The whole room held their breath, all of them waiting to finally see you in the simplest of forms, eagerly waiting to open Pandora's box. 
Gathering your courage you did so, very slowly you parted your thighs, feeling the cold air hit your swollen and sopping heat as you completely unveiled yourself for your clients. You spotted from the corner of your eyes Jongho starting to palm himself through his trousers.
“Fuck she’s so wet too” you guessed the deep voice to be the one of Mingi.
“So naughty” Yunho added.
“Good girl '' Seonghwa praised again when you couldn't possibly open your legs wider. He immediately slipped his ring and middle finger inside your heat, the slow and gentle stretch of your sex made you mewl pathetically, jaw falling loose as he curled his fingers right into your sweet spot.
“Oh my g-” the words get caught in your throat when Seonghwa picks up the pace. 
“You’re sucking in his fingers so well, kitten” San commented while he pressed his open hand on his length.
Your moans gradually grow louder and the wet squelching sounds of your dripping center bounce on the walls, Seonghwa composing a sinful symphony on your body. Pumping his fingers inside and out your heat then gliding up your folds to find your clit and dipping back in again.
As time goes by and as you inch closer to your edge you feel no intention in Seonghwa to stop. You know this time you won’t be able to hold back and after being so close so many times to your high. You just want to finally grasp it. You’re so close you can taste it. You just don’t want it to have it snatched away from you again.
“Seonghwa… Please” you breath out, cheeks flushed, nails digging into your palm.
“Please what?” Seonghwa asks, sounding as innocent as can be but the smirk you feel on the shell of your ear tells you the innocence as everything but genuine.
“Please… Aaaha. Can I c-cum?” you finally manage to ask.
“You wanna show everyone how you cum around my fingers?” The sinful choice of words makes your heart hammer against your ribs. But you would do anything for him to finally let you finish. 
“Yes” you breathe out, overlooking the shame, somehow managing to open your legs even wider, letting the plug peek from beneath you, the pink gem twinkling under the dim lighting, determined to let the others have a good look at you.
Your efforts are noticed. You hear a couple of them curse under their breaths while other finally slip their hands inside their pants. But most importantly your resilience makes Seonghwa agree to let you cum.
“Go ahead, Princess. Make a big mess on my fingers.”
You don't need more, you just let yourself slip as soon as you hear the magic words. Your mind slips into a haze as you throw your head back, letting it roll on Seonghwa’s shoulders. You clench around the man’s long fingers, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him, refusing to ever let go of them. Your legs shaking as you let a long string of moans escape your lips.
The group of men admiring how your pussy opens and closes around their friend’s fingers, some grunting as they press a little harder on their painfully hard cocks. 
When Seonghwa rips his fingers out of your orgasming heat your cum just sprays out of your in streams, soaking the carpet beneath your feet. 
Finally as the stream dies down you’re able to come down from your high.
“Goog girl” Seonghwa praises as he brings his cum covered digits to your mouth. You immediately, out of instinct, your mind still in a complete haze, welcome the long fingers inside your mouth. Eagerly sucking and licking, your taste taking over your mouth and rolling on your tongue. 
Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your thighs. When you look you see Yunho letting his big palms glide from your thighs to your calf and to your feet. He brings your foot to his face, one hand under your calf and the other wrapped around the heel while he kisses your ankles, going down on your feet, he slips his tongue out, licking the black leather of the pump. Before taking them off.
“How do you taste, princess?” Seonghwa asks when he sees you distracted by Yunho. 
“Delicious, sir” you replied, still not taking your eyes off the tall man kneeling between your legs.
“Let me have a taste.” Seonghwa says before crashing his lips on yours, you share your cum with him as he pushes his tongue past your lips, eager to discover your flavor. 
He breathes heavily as he keeps kissing you. You feel Yunho peel off one of the tights to give kitten licks to your toes. 
The novel feeling has you moaning into Seonghwa’s mouth. He sucks on your toes before trailing up your thigh. Leaving blue and purple marks as he progresses up until he reaches your pubic bone. He kisses you everywhere but where you want him the most. You whine into the older one's mouth. Until the taller man finally gives a kitten lick to your clit. You rip your mouth from Seonghwa to look at Yunho between your legs. He doesn't break eye contact as he starts to relish on your taste. Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as your jaw falls open.
“Fuckkk” you swear before sucking your lip between your teeth.
“You like that?” He asks, lips still pressed to your folds.
“Yess! Yesss” you say as you eagerly grind your hips on his tongue, earning a low groan from the man behind you as your ass rubbed on his harder than ever cock. The raging hard on threatening to rip through the pants at any moment.
“What a greedy little whore” Mingi says as he gets up to come closer to the scene. Soon all of them follow and you find yourself surrounded by all 8 men looking down at you, hands either under or over their pants, playing with their cocks as they didn’t peel their eyes off you for a second. 
Seeing all of them around you, their hungry gaze fixed on you makes you even more eager, and you find yourself grinding even faster on Yunho’s tongue, letting sighs and pleading cries roll off your tongue.
“You just came, doll” Hongjoong started. “And you’re already so eager to cum again?” his warm hand slipped between your breast to go up you throat, lightly squeezing, just enough to make it threatening, making your eyes snap to him. “You’re so naughty”.
While you were distracted by Hongjoong you didn't notice from the corner of your eye Wooyoung taking his pants off and pumping his length in his clenched fist. Swiping his tongue on his bottom lips watching you fuck yourself out on Yunho’s mouth while Seonghwa groaned behind you and bit your neck. 
It’s only when you felt the hot tip against your cheek that you turned your head to him. When you look up at him the devilish grin that he adorns makes your inside flutter, your eager cunt twitching on Yunho’s tongue.
“Open wide for me, baby, okay?” Wooyoung’s raspy voice asked as he laid his leaking tip right on your lips. As soon as the tip of your tongue makes contact with his slit you give it a kitten lick. The salty taste goes straight to your head and makes you dizzy. You open your mouth a little wider and Wooyoung slowly pushes his length inside you. You can’t help but to moan as you feel the smooth skin gliding so easily on your wet tongue. Letting your eyes roll back as you feel your lips stretch to accommodate this fullness in your mouth while Yunho slows down his rhythm, allowing you just enough lucidity to be able to concentrate on your new found mission. 
Wooyoung continues to progress until he bottoms out. And you hollow your cheeks to pull your head back on his length just to push back in. You start out slow, making sure to lube him up with your spit. And Wooyoung sighs at the pleasurable way your tongue swirls around his tip every time he hangs on your lips, letting his head roll back, thick veins ornamenting his neck.
As you pick up the pace you feel hands wrap around what was once your bun and push you back down further on Wooyoung’s cock.
“Come on, princess. You can do better than that” you hear Seonghwa purr in your ear. As Wooyoung groans, feeling you go deeper. “You can take him all in. Right Princess?” 
With each coming and going Seonghwa pushes on your head a little harder until, your nose hits Wooyoung’s pubic bone. Seonghwa keeps you right there for a moment as you look up at the younger man with teary eyes.
“Ever since I picked this red lipstick for you I've wanted to see it around my cock. You’re so pretty like this baby.” Wooyoung says as Seonghwa finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and breathe. You suck in a deep breath, fighting back a coughing fit.
“You’re doing so good, Princess. So good for us” Seonghwa praises, already pushing your head back on Wooyoung’s length. You open your mouth once again, pursing your lips, hollowing your cheeks. So good that soon enough Wooyoung lets his head roll back and let a long string of profanities fall from his lips.
“Fuck you’re so good at this, baby. Like you were made to suck cock” he praised, through gritted teeth. “Fuckkk” he cursed again and you felt his cock twitch on your tongue while he suddenly gripped your hair, stopping you from pushing him back inside your wet mouth. “Fuck” he breathes heavily. “I need a break.  Don’t want the fun to end now” he said, pulling his lips in a sinful smirk.
“I’ll take it from here” San said, pulling Wooyoung by the shoulder to take his place. When you are presented with San’s cock you can tell he has been playing with himself for a while, the tip is swollen, beet red and dripping. It is the most mouth watering sight you ever got the chance to witness. Instinctively you open wider and approach your lips but San pulls back before you can wrap your mouth around the alluring member.
“An eager little kitten, aren't we?” the man breathes out while he lazily pumps himself before your round out eyes. “You want my cock this bad ?” he smirks wickedly, looking down on you. You only nod, not peeling your eyes off San’s cock. “You have to properly ask for it before I give it to you” Your eyes snap back to his sharp ones. There’s not a trace of humor in his dark brown orbs, only dark lust burning holes into you.
“Please, sir. Fill my mouth with your cock” you whisper, your warm breath hitting San’s raw dick, making him suck in a breath. 
“Good little kitty” he praises while pressing his cock against your lips, which you part as soon as you feel the hot leaking tip against your mouth, immediately the taste going to your head. Slowly you glide on San’s length as his hands wrap around both your ears, pulling you even further on his cock, grunting all the way down until he reaches the bottom.
“Stay completely still, kitten” he whispers, the sultry tone making you shiver under his unwavering gaze. “Let me fuck that pretty little mouth”
Suddenly you gasp as you feel two long fingers being pushed inside your dripping heat, Yunho, tired of being ignored, wants to get your attention back. And the least you can say is that it’s effective. His digits curl inside you deliciously, able to reach deeper than Seonghwa.
San takes advantage of your sudden gasp to push his length deeper, picking up right where Wooyoung left off. You feel the delicious burn of your throat expanding to accommodate San’s girth. 
Yunho wraps his lips around your clit once more while San pleasures himself with your mouth, strong grip around your head, pulling your head in and pushing it back out again at a rapid pace. The pleasure makes you moan on San’s length, your eyes becoming watery. 
“You like that, babygirl?” you hear Yunho ask you from between your legs. You can’t possibly respond because San doesn't allow a single word to leave your mouth, only muffled sounds of approval.
“Good girl” Yunho praises before returning to tease you. His tongue twirls around your sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 
“You like getting your little cunt stuffed while I fuck your face, kitten?” San asks, breath short, strong forearms contracting around your face. You only moan in approval, trying to nod your head which proves to be impossible due to San’s grip. Only the volume of the pitch of the moans you make, gives away at the state of urgency in which you find yourself.
“You wanna cum?” San asks, somehow grip growing stronger. You moan again, one single tear rolling down your cheek, dragging with it one streak of mascara. “Cum, kitten. Cum for Yunho with my dick down your throat” 
Once again the permission makes you let go of the knot in your guts, the pleasure spreads to you through your core pulsing under Yunho tongue and clenching on his long fingers, deliciously curled right into your sweet spot. Gradually San and Yunho slow down allowing you to ride off your high.
Before you even gather up your thought you feel Seonghwa turn your head to him one more time, slipping his long tongue inside your mouth, the only response your hazy mind can come up with is to moan into his mouth before you feel yourself being lifted up by a couple pair of strong arms, Seonghwa grunting under you.
“Princess, I need you right here” You hear the older man’s deep voice as his gaze points at his dick, now shed from its restraints, standing proud and tall. You step towards him and lift your leg to take him in but he stops you.
“No, princess. Other way around, I want the others to see the beautiful expressions you make with my cock deep inside you” he says as he lightly pushes on your hips, urging you to turn around. When you do and see the others you can’t help but to feel a new wave of arousal. 
You find yourself hovering over Seonghwa while you hold his length in your hand. The whole room seems to hold their breath as you align yourself with him, gathering your arousal, taking your time to spread it on the leaking tip.
“Look how wet you are” Jongho commented. “We haven't even started yet and you already made such a mess”
“S-sorry, sir” you muster and bite your lip immediately after, sinking your hips on Seonghwa as the others all look at the precise place your two bodies meet, fist pumping around the results of their own arousal.
“Fuckkkk” you hear Seonghwa curse in your ear. 
“Enjoying the eldest privilege, hyung?” you hear the low voice of Mingi ask as you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, your body automatically shutting down your other senses to focus solely on the delicious stretch of your walls around Seonghwa’s girth.
“I’m not the only one, am I Princess?” he asks short of breath, his hands tucking behind your ear one of many strands of hair that escaped your once sleek updo. When you fail to provide a satisfactory reply, Seonghwa’s hand drops down to your cunt. 
“Didn't I tell you to…” his hot breath fans your ear, you sigh and let your head fall back on his shoulder as you feel his hand touch you in the place you need him the most only to receive a sharp slap right on your very sensitive bud. The unexpected and acute pain stirs your gut in a brand new way, making you clench around Seonghwa, ripping a low moan from your lips.
“... use your words?” he asks, voice a lot sterner. 
“Yesss” you mewl. “Yesssss” you pant. “Yess, sir” not being able to tell if you crave another slap or if you had just gone completely mad.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks again.
“”Yes, sir. I am”
“So naughty, doll” Hongjoong comments, stepping closer.
“Now princess, work for me a little, okay? Make me feel good.” The eldest places both his hands on your hips making you sink down until he reaches the deepest part of you as you moan, feeling him deliciously splitting you open. “Show them how good you are.”
You start to rise up again, Seonghwa’s hands still on your hips but not helping you in any way, letting you take control over this. Once his tip is barely hanging inside you, you sink down again, this time faster. His lubricated length slides inside you with ease. You moan without restraint at the way his length rubs on the toy in your ass, stirring it around and making the metal push on all the right places. You repeat the motion until you settle in a comfortable rhythm. 
As you behave according to Seonghwa’s order you can't help but let your half lidded gaze sweep the room. All these eyes on you make you clench again, urging you to bounce harder on Seonghwa’s girth. 
“Look at you, slutty tits bouncing for us.” Jongho comments again, making you bite your lip, shame bubbling with arousal in the pit of your stomach. But at the same time you can’t seem to stop your hips, irrepressibly pulled down and pushed back up again and again until Seonghwa feels you flutter around him.
“You like giving a good show. Right Princess?”
“Yess sir” you whine, eyes prickling with tears. 
“Aren’t you a pretty one, doll?” Hongjoong whispers, his voice barely covering your moans and whines, slipping his hands right between your breasts caressing with the tip of his finger your soft and dampened sweaty skin, trailing to cup your breast. Suddenly he pinches your nipples harden into buds, the dull pain makes you roll your head back, letting a throaty moan escape your lips.
“Doll, can’t you do anything with those pretty hands of yours?” Hongjoong asks, pinching ever so slightly harder. 
Before you can even reply anything, Yeosang and Yunho step to each side of you, wrapping your fingers around their two cocks. 
“That’s way better” Hongjoong compliments.
They start out by guiding you on their length until you continue on your own. 
“Fuck sweetheart” Yeosang starts. “Those pretty hands were made to pleasure cocks” he praises as he brings your face close to his length, pushing your cheeks onto his tip, spreading the pre cum on your hot face. 
“Such a good little girl for us” Yunho outbids the praise, pulling you close to also spread his essence on you. “Faster my baby” he exhales.
You oblige as you feel Seonghwa's hands on your hips urging you to go faster, his blunt nails digging into your sides. As you do so Seonghwa lightly scoots down on the bench, angling his cock in a brand new way. You can't help but to moan loudly at the way he’s now rubbing your sweet spot, each back and forth scrubbing against the toy in your ass and deliciously poking at the entrance of Eden's garden. 
“Such beautiful sounds” Seonghwa praises, licking around your ear, the wet sounds of his mouth making your guts slush around as your grip tightens around the two cocks in your hand, making the two men groan. 
You can’t help but to let your mind slip in delirium again, pleasure delightfully clouding your judgment.
“Sir please, can I cum?”
“Again?” Jongho scoffs. “You really can’t fucking wait can you?” the sharp glacial tone, contrast with the sadistic and amused smirk spreading on his lips. You whine in response, brows linking on your forehead, bouncing even harder as Hongjoong continues to tease your nipples, taunting the hard buds until they become so sensitive you could cum from the way he plays with them alone.
“I’m sorry I can't let you Princess” Seonghwa says, strong grip on your hips making you stop abruptly. Immediately your hungry little cunt starts to pulse around his length, yearning for more of the delectable friction as your ass clenches around the plug.
“Please, Please please” you start to plead. Lust speaking in your place, completely forgetting about everything else.
“You really have no shame” the younger comments again.
“No Princess. Seonghwa says sternly. “Unfortunately I made you cum once already and I have to let the others also have fun with our brand new toy.” you whine, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “I recall Mingi didn’t even touch you yet”. 
Your eyes instantly snap to the tall pink haired man, standing in front of you while a wicked smirk spreads on his lips. 
“No, I haven't played with our little play thing… yet” his low voice rumbles makes your chest tighten as you let Seonghwa’s length slip out of you in defeat. The last word somehow sounds like a threat and makes you shiver. 
“What you say, y/n?” your heart makes a loop in your chest when the man uses your name. They only used pet names until then and you weren't expecting it, it somehow feels a lot more personal, almost making you forget you’re actually working right now. “Do you wanna play with me?” his large hand wraps around your neck, not squeezing in the slightest way. His fingers are only curled around you, lightly pulling you up to guide you out Seonghwa’s lap. 
“Yes. Yes I want to play with you, sir” you say, entranced by the man. 
“Good girl” he praises, still leading you by the neck and making you kneel on the carpeted floor. “Lay there Angel” his low but commanding voice said.
You lay on your back and bring your knees over your chest before spreading your legs open. Jongho and San sitting at each side hold your legs apart while all of them eye down your red, swollen and pulsing little cunt.
Mingi kneels down and places himself right between your thighs, the huge member sitting heavily in his open palm, you gasp when you feel the hot tip glide over your drenched folds. Mingi repeats the motion a couple of times, each time pressing down with his tip on your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves. You jerk your hips everytime under the divine pressure he applies but soon you grow frustrated.
“Please…”you whine breathless, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your messy hair stuck to your forehead.
“Please what, angel?” he asks as you feel a pair of foreign hands cup your breasts, you don't even take the time to look around to find the owner of those hands, only eyeing down Mingi’s massive cock laying over your quivering little pussy.
“Please I want to feel you” you finally say, just above a murmur, squirming not wanting anything more than to finally be filled to the brim with a cock. After all this teasing you just need to feel a cock inside you. Anyone. You just want to be filled. 
Mingi chuckles darkly at your quiet request as he continues to tease you.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, deep and sultry voice lifting goosebumps on your bare skin. You nod, not peeling your eyes off the member. “Bark for it.”
“Huh?” you look back at him confused, the wicked smirk playing on his lips makes you shiver.
“Bark for my cock like the bitch you are” he lifts up his dick to let it slap back down against your sensitive and erect clit, making your jerk at the sharp sting of pleasure.
“He said bark!” Jongho adds, only now you see he’s the one teasing your nipples.
“Woof woof” you finally let out.
“Again!” Jongho commands as he lands a slap on your cheek. Making you gasp and arch your back into the carpeted floor.
“Woof woof woof woof” you repeatedly scream.
Tears of frustration are blurring your vision. Making you unable to see as Mingi finally plunges his fat cock into your desperate heat. Your walls immediately welcome him with happy spasms. Mingi grunts and moans all the way down to the bottom of your hungry little cunt.
But then again he stops moving, he just stays there, more tears spill from your eyes, dragging down your mascara, progressively ruining the makeup that was so thoughtfully planned out for you. Much to Wooyoung's satisfaction. 
“Please. Please.” you say breathless, unable to stop yourself from trying to rock yourself on Mingi’s cock. “Please fuck me” you ask again.
“Color, doll?” you hear Hongjoong ask. You look back at him confused. You need a moment before the words even mean anything in your mind. But the question forces your mind back to reality.
“Green” you utter. To your response Hongjoong and the others snicker.
“You really like to beg don’t you?” Seonghwa's remark makes you whine.
“Such a good little cocksleeve, properly begging for us. You’re doing so good baby” Yunho praises, wiping the tears away.
“Go ahead Mingi… give her what she wants” Hongjoongs concludes.
The pink haired man then looks back at you and starts to push inside your greedy little cunt steadily.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir” you hastily say looking up at Hongjoong your orbs drowning in a sumptuous blend of desperation, gratitude and need. He looks down at you with a proud paternal smile. You’re so cute. Completely fucked out stupid. The perfect little fuck toy.
You feel your cunt deliciously stretch to accommodate Mingi’s fat cock as he bottoms out and lets out a low groan. You can’t help but to arch your back at the delicious filling sensation, the definitely girthy (to say the least) cock scraping against the toy crowding your other hole in exquisite pleasure. 
Gradually Mingi picks up the pace as Jongho continues to play with your tits. Flicking the hardened buds and pinching them occasionally crouching down to suck on them. 
Pleasure rises, your gut tightens in the familiar knot but as you become more vocal and as your walls start gripping Mingi a little tighter he slows down, denying you your high. You can’t help but to whine in disappointment.
But as a distraction from the frustration Wooyoung crouches down next to your face and once again teases your lips with his blazing tip. You gratefully open your mouth to take your mind off the agonizing pleasure Mingi inflicts to you. Hungrily sucking on Wooyoung’s length, bopping your head to the side as you felt another cock graze your cheek but you didn't open your eyes to see who it was you solely concentrated on Wooyoung.
“That's it baby. Suck my cock” you heard him praise as he wrapped his veiny hand around what was left of your bun. “Fffucck… y/n” he moaned. 
Mingi started to pick up the pace again making you moan on Wooyoung’s length, the vibrations making the younger man shiver. As you didn’t slow down, hollowing your cheeks on his length as you pulled and moaning as you pushed your head back.
“You’re so good for us, Princess” you heard Seonghwa from beside you, guessing it was his cock caressing your cheek. “That’s right, keep going like this” he encouraged and you picked the pace again.
“Fuck… You… mmmh… want my cum that… fucking… bad?” Wooyoung struggled to say as you felt his grip become tighter around your hair. You nodded again, you didn't know if your point came across but you didn't care you only wanted to taste his cum on your tongue.
“Fuckk” you heard Mingi still smashing himself between your legs.
“Fuck I’m cumming” Wooyoung pulled on your hair, popping his length out your mouth to release all over your face, warm white cum crashing on your nose, cheeks and lips. You hungrily licked your lips as Wooyoung grunted, emptying his balls on your face.
“Shit” the younger man breathes out as he unravels his fingers around your hair. Immediately Seonghwa pinches your chin and turns your head to the other side, to look at him. 
“Mingi please” you whine again as he decreases the pace again, you try to turn your head to the pink haired man kneeling between your legs but Seonghwa firmly maintains your face to him. 
“Shh, Princess.” he gently says as your body is shaken under each of Mingi's slow but powerful thrust. “Don't waste Wooyoung’s cum, okay?” with his index finger he scraped your cheek and dragged the thick liquid to your mouth, pushing his cum coated finger past your lips, as you wrapped your lips around it, moaning as Wooyoung’s taste filled your mind.
“That's it. Eat it all” Seonghwa praised as he jerked himself off with his other hand. “Good girl. You want mine too, Princess?” he asked, inching his length closer to you. 
“Yes! Please! Sir, please I want your cum” you eagerly reply. 
“Sweetheart is starved for cum, isn’t she?” Yeosang commented.
“Open. Stick your tongue out” Seonghwa’s tone was urgent, his voice was roughed up and strained, giving away at his own need. “Don't close your eyes, Princess” he says breathless, his fist frantically going up and down his aching cock. “Keep looking at me” he said, barely above a whisper. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth and knitting his brows as pleasure contorts his beautiful delicate features.
You happily obliged as Seonghwa lets himself go. Aiming primarily at your open wet hole but the uncontainable powerful streams also get on your nose and all the way to your forehead, perfectly splitting your ruined face in half. 
Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction as the others approve and jerk themself off at the beautiful and sinful sight.
“Keep your mouth open Baby. Don’t swallow yet” Mingi orders. “I want to see their cum in your mouth while I pound into you.” 
This time Mingi seems to be more serious, he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.
“Fuckkkkk” Mingi grunts as he plows into you, making your tits jiggle under Jongho’s hands. “You're so fucking pretty with all that cum on your face, angel” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Wanna cum on my cock, baby?”
“Yesshhh” you managed to say, swirling the two loads on your tongue.
As the pleasurable feeling spreads from your core to your whole body you feel warm hands laid against your erect clit, drawing tight small circles on it. 
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for us, sweetheart?” Yeosang purrs as he teases your clit, instantly taking you to unknown heights. The pleasure fogs up your mind as you can only think about Yeosang’s hand on you and Mingi’s cock pounding you into oblivion. 
“Fuck… Cum now.” Mingi ordered as his thrust became shallower, less regular. 
“Thank you. thank you thank you” you blabbered, your mouth still full of cum as you let yourself come undone at Yeosang and Mingi’s touch. Your cunt uncontrollably pulsating around Mingi’s big cock, the indescribable pleasure making your legs shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your tongue hang out your mouth, the cum threatening to spill with each jerk of your body.
“Fuckkk I’m cumming” Mingi announced as he became uneven, finally letting himself release deep inside you, his hips snapping to yours a couple of more times as he painted you a brand new shade of white, your convulsing little cunt milking him to the last drop, eagerly wanting to drown itself in the precious and delicious essence. 
“Swallow now, darling”. Yeosang allowed you. And you gladly did so. Finally getting the thick cum down your throat, relishing on the intoxicating taste as you let Mingi slip out of you and his cum lazily dripping out your shapeless hole.
“Come here and clean your little mess” Mingi said out of breath as he stumbled back sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. You got up on all four and crawled to him, finding your spot between his ample thighs while he held out his sticky cock to you, covered with your slick and his cum. You kept your ass up as you bent over to wrap your mouth around the tip and giving it a hard suck. You felt the warm load drip down your thighs as the mixed flavors of your arousal and his cum flooded your mouth.
As you licked clean every inch you felt a pair of hands gently pat your ass.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Jongho commented from behind you, landing a slap on your raw ass. You jerked and moaned as you popped Mingi’s freshly cleaned length out of your mouth. 
You felt Jongho pull on the plug that was still inside you. He pulled lightly on it a couple of times to let it be sucked back in by your ass. 
“Oh what a greedy little hole, clinging onto the toy like this” he said finally pulling the toy out, admiring your hole opening and closing in need to be filled again. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t stay empty for long”. Just as he said that he plunged two fingers inside your blinking hole. His index and middle finger forming a V to spread your hole open as much as possible. You moaned in bliss as the others watched you being split open in awe. 
“You like my fingers in your ass?” Jongho asked as his other hand was rubbing soothing circles on your bare bottom. 
“Yes!! Yess sir I love them” you almost yelled back eager to feel more of him.
“What a good little whore” he praised, landing another spank on your reddened cheek. He then curled his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You let your head hang as you close your eyes only focusing on the pleasure happening behind you when you feel a gentle touch on your cheek. When you look up it’s San, kneeling in front of you, holding his swollen and painfully hard length in his hand. 
“My turn now, kitten.” he says in a raspy tone. “Open up” as soon as you part your lips he slips inside the wet hole, directly aiming for the back of your throat. As you are on your hands and knees your mouth and neck perfectly align in a flat line and San is able to reach the back of your throat easily. You feel the pleasure burn again in your already sore throat, awakening the dormant and dull pain, a little souvenir of his previous visit.
After a couple of back and forths he pops his length out your mouth, making you whine but it’s caught in your throat when you feel Jongho stuff one more finger inside your crowded little ass.
San wraps his fist around his length as lazily pumps himself a few times.
“Give me a hand Woo”
You see Wooyoung’s veiny hand wrap around San’s cock. San lets out a throaty moan as the younger man’s fingers curled around his length, pumping him lazily while you observed in awe as his catlike eyes creased and his eyebrows met on his forehead. 
San’s now free hand gently rubbed your face, his lips being pulled in a sinful smirk.
“Faster” he instructed Wooyoung. and he immediately started to pump his fist quicker. “Ffuucckk yesss” he hissed clenching his jaw as his half lidded eyes stared right into you.
“I think kitten wants her milk” he chuckled at the way your eyes started to grow in approbation, pupils dilated at the thought. “Let’s not make her wait any longer”
You licked your lips in anticipation while San caught his bottom lip between his teeth, completely dropping the cocky smile as you saw him twitch in Wooyoung’s hand.
“Open your mouth, darling” Wooyoung ordered, aiming San’s cock right at your wet hole.
“Fuck, kitten! Want my milk?” San asked as you saw his muscular thighs contract.
“Yes please sir I'm a thirsty kitty” you said before sticking your tongue out. Which made San push his jaw forward.
“Then take it” he said, his hand going from your cheek to your neck to pull your face further onto his crotch right before he cums as Wooyoung clenches his fist around the twitching cock. A colossal amount of cum spurts out of his open slit, crashing on your face and mixing with the others’ loads, your tears and smudged makeup.
“Good girl” Wooyoung praises.
The salty and bitter taste wraps around your tongue as you moan in satisfaction letting your mind focus on this intoxicating flavor. 
But Jongho pulls you out of your trance by circling your waist with his free hand, to be able to play with your clit. Which has you moaning instantly.
“I want you to cum around my fingers” Jongho whispered as he drew tight and rapid circles on your over-stimulated clit. More tears spill from your eyes as the pleasure elevates your body again.
“Pleaseeee” you whine. At this point you don't even know what you are begging for anymore. Are you begging him to stop, to let you rest? Are you begging him for more?
Then Wooyoung crouches down and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as your jaw is slacked. Your moans and whines are muffled as your eyes roll back into your skull while you share San’s taste mixed your spit with the raven black haired man.
“That's it baby” Jongho praises a carnivorous grin pulling at his lips. 
Another earth-breaking orgasm washes over your body as your tight little asshole tries to swallow Jongho’s fingers whole, your cum spraying out of you in a powerful stream again while you moan into Wooyoung’s open mouth.
When Jongho pulls out you are left breathless and fucked out of your mind.
“She’s ready back here” Jongho announced, wiping his fingers on your skirt abandoned on the floor. “Who wants to have a go?” he asks.
“Me” Yunho answered immediately. 
You can't help but to gulp. Out of the eight of them, Yunho is easily the biggest one. You can’t help but to nervously chew on your bottom lip as you eye down Yunho’s hard and leaking huge cock. 
“Stay right here” Yeosang says as he sees you squirming.
Yunho kneels behind you but as soon as you turn your head to look back, Yeosang gently pinches your chin and makes you look at him.
“Look what you did to me, sweetheart.” he gently purred, swiping the raging hot tip across your wet swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard ever. That’s all for you, darling” Yeosang sings as he pushes back his long black hair. You let a moan escape your lips as you feel Yunho’s fingers swipe up your slit to your clit, flicking the poor exhausted nub a couple of times, when he notices how sensitive you are. You hear him chuckle behind you.
“Don’t you think you have to take responsibility for it?” Yeosang’s grip on your chin grows tighter but his voice remains as sweet as honey.
“Yes, sir” you agree as you open your mouth again. As soon as Yeosang’s hot cock head glazes over your tongue the sweet taste of precum completely wipes away the soreness of your already abused jaw. 
“Yesss” Yeosang hisses, gentle hands wrapped around your nape and guiding your lips to meet his pubic bone. “So fucking good baby” he gently pulls out and goes back in immediately. 
Then you feel Yunho’s cock rub against your soaked center, emitting a lowly grunt, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock. The latter chuckles and the way you shudder feeling your little cunt being teased again.
“You want Yunho’s cock, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling his dick out of your mouth to allow you to answer. 
“Yes! Yes please Sir!” you eagerly say, trying to look back again but Yeosang doesn't let you..
“Look at me, darling. Only me” he reminds you. “Where do you want his cock?” he traces the outline of your lips with his spit coated member, teasing himself in the process.
“In my ass please. I want Yunho’s cock in my ass” You said with pleading eyes looking up at Yeosang. 
“So greedy” Yunho snickered once more as he finally pushed himself inside your blinking hole. You can’t help but to gasp at the way your ass expands to accommodate Yunho’s enormous cock. Each of the rings inside your tiny hole stretches to a brand new limit to fit the monstrous member forcing its way inside of you. You groan and bite your lip all the way until Yunho has pushed the whole thing inside and you manage to take him completely. You suck in a couple of deep and shaky breaths.
“Such a good girl swallowing my big cock whole like this” Yunho praises as he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adapt to him. “Are you alright, babygirl?” he asks with his sweet voice, the caring tone makes your heart flutter.
“Yes sir, I’m good” You answer with a short breath. 
“You’re so pretty, darling” Yeosang says, wiping a tear off your mascara stained cheek. “So beautifully ruined for us” he says before pushing his dick past your lips again. At the exact same time Yunho slowly pulled himself out of you. Scraping you so deliciously as he did so, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock, the vibrations making a shiver run down his spine. 
“Fuck you’re gripping me so tight babygirl” Yunho growled as he pushed his length back inside. You could have cum with just this. Just by the way he was making you so full of him, scraping you in all the right places. To take your mind off the pleasure that was burning your guts you started to focus on Yeosang instead. 
You bopped your head along his cock and hollowed your cheeks when you reached the tip, sucking a little harder as your tongue lapped at his slit making sure your tongue never forgot his taste.
“You’re so good with your mouth, sweetheart” Yeosang said, warm hands gently wrapping around you as his hips helped you to get him off. Snapping his hips against your face but never to the point to trigger your gag reflex, there was a gentleness to him, a softness in the way he looked down at you almost amorously as you felt his cock throb on your tongue. The tenderness made you want to be the best girl you could be for him. You wanted to give him your all and you intend to do just that.
“Fuckkk” he hissed as you wrapped your tongue around the sensitive head, bopping your head a little harder.
“Babygirl wants our cum too?” Yunho asked as his hips became sloppier against yours, the two large palms tensing on your ass cheeks and squeezing them to keep himself balanced on his knees as he smashed himself inside. 
“Stay still, sweetheart” Yeosang suddenly says, steadying himself right in front of your mouth. One hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, the other still on your nape. “I’m gonna use your cute little mouth. That's what you want, right darling? Wanna be my toy?” You nodded your head quickly while you obediently waited for him to fuck your mouth, staying as still as Yunho allowed you to be as he pounded into you.
Yeosang’s thrusts were shallow at first. But quickly grew deeper, making your core tighten and your eyes prickle again
“Fuck baby. You’re gonna make me cum if you clench like this” Yunho grunted. “I want you to cum with me, understood, babygirl?” 
You only moaned back, unable to form words as your mouth was clearly occupied and busy. 
“Goog girl” he moaned, his trusts becoming more and more sloppy as Yunho became more vocal, grunting and moaning with each coming and going, his grip on your ass growing tighter until he was ready to bust. 
“Fuck, baby. Now” he breathlessly said as he gave you one particularly powerful thrust. “Now. Cum for me. Cum for us, baby”
You let yourself leap past that edge once more, the overwhelming pleasure makes you moan and whine against Yeosang’s length while your ass clings onto Yunho’s huge cock, demanding to be filled with his cum, walls pulsing and clenching in exquisite bliss as you felt him slip out of you. Yunho only had to give himself a couple of light pumps around his fist before he exploded all over your ass, long ropes of scolding hot cum splashing on your back even reaching all the way to your hair and the back of your head. 
“Fuckkkk” Yunho cried out, clenching his fist around his cock, pressing his thumb over the throbbing head to push every last drop of his cum out just for you. 
“Shit, darling, I'm gonna cum” Yeosang declared, following right after the taller man, his hips snapping one last time against your lips, as you felt his throbbing cock releasing the thick cum right into your throat, not even leaving you the pleasure to feel it slide against your tongue, directly delivering it down your throat. Stuttering hips and pubic bone flushed against your face. A long string of deep moans echoing the ones of Yunho.
When Yeosang slipped out of you and pinched your chin again to make you look up at him. He looked back at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, a treasure that needed to be protected at all costs. Looking so fondly at his fucked out toy, your half lidded eyes hung in nothingness as your body was still lightly shaken by the intense and multiple orgasms.
“So pretty, sweetheart” he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen and numb lips, which you barely had the conscience to even reciprocate. “Such a good girl for us”
When Yeosang gently lets go of you, you have to gather all the strength left in your body not to let yourself collapse to the ground and hold yourself still on your hands and knees. You barely even notice when Hongjoong crouches in front of you.
“Color, Doll?” he asks as he lazily pumps his swollen cock inside his hand.
“G-green” you barely manage to say. Your mind still completely hazy from the previous events but you are brought back instantly as Hongjoongs lands a quick slap on your mascara stained cheek, making you whip your head to the side.
“Didn’t hear you, doll” he said, giving you a chance to correct yourself. 
“Green, S-sir” you sniffled, remembering to use the correct title, your eyes snapping to him.
“Good girl” Hongjoong added, soothing your burning cheek with his thumb. “I guess it’s my turn now, right, doll?” he looked down at you with a carnivorous, predatory smile that made you shudder.
“Yes, Sir. Whenever you are ready”
Hongjoong sat right in front of you, in the cum soaked carpeted floor of the jet.
“Sit on my cock, doll.” Hongjoong said, holding the base of his length up in the air, urging you to be filled up once again.
You struggled to get up on your two legs and staggered over to Hongjoong, placing your feet at each side of him. When you lowered your hips, aligning your entrance with Hongjoong’s member your thighs barely held you anymore. Your body was exhausted but somehow you were yearning for more. Your insatiable and sore little cunt was throbbing at the idea of being filled up again. 
When Hongjoong’s tip glided along your slit you moaned and draped your arms around his shoulders, using him as a way to get balance. You let out a long moan when Hongjoong finally splits you open, his length pushing the remnants of Mingi’s load deeper inside you. 
“Fuck. You’re already throbbing, you dumb little whore” Hongjoong said, hand untangling with your hair and breaking your neck backward, to give himself access to your already bruised neck. Adding his touch to the stained canvas with bites and kisses. “Yearning to be filled again. Isn't that right, doll?” he asked, yanking your hair a little harder when you didn’t reply fast enough.
“Yes, Sir. I wanted your cock so bad. It feels so good!!!” you moaned as you started to bounce yourself on him, earning a satisfied groaned from the blonde man. “Right thereee” you let out as you sink your hips all the way down, slowly again, feeling the head of his cock rub against your sweet spot. 
“Good girl. Keep going” Hongjoong urged, letting go of your hair and laying himself back on his elbows, backing away slightly to take your whole form in. He wanted to admire you fuck yourself up on his cock. He wanted to see your tits bounce and your pussy throb as you drove yourself to madness. He wanted to see you cry. He knew exactly how.
He landed a purposeful and sharp slap right on your soaked little clit. The reaction is immediate and exactly what Hongjoong was looking for. You emit the most divine of screams, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Hongjoong can't help but to smirk when he sees how your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill up with tears again all the while never stopping your hips snapping against his. 
“Say thank you” he orders, putting both of his hands on your thigh keeping them nice and parted, eyes only ogling the way your hungry little cunt swallowed him only to spit him out covered in your slick seconds later and do it all over again and again and again. 
“Thank you, sir” you whine. “Please another one, sir” you ask, mind slipping back into an indiscernible fog. Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your sudden request. But he’s pleasantly surprised by your obedience and devotion.
“What a pathetic little pain slut you are, y/n” He lands another slap just as perfectly aimed as the previous one making you moan and finally making the precious tears spill from your eyes at the mention of your name.
“Such a good little fuck toy, asking so nicely. Good girls get rewards, right doll?” Hongjoong says as he starts to draw small circles on your throbbing clit with his index and middle finger. 
“Oh my god. Th-thank you, Sir” you whine, more large tears rolling on your heated cheeks. The pleasure makes you eager to chase your high and you find yourself bouncing harder on Hongjoongs’ cock. Not even realizing Jongho creeping up behind you again.
“Sir, can I please cum?” you ask, feeling your high dangerously nearing as you feel your walls tighten around Hongjoong’s length and your clit throbbing under his touch.
“You’re an eager little whore aren’t you?” the voice of the youngest resounds behind you. When you turn your head he pushes on your shoulder making you fall forward onto Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong chuckles as Jongho gets on his knees and shimmies himself between the older man’s legs. You still yourself completely when you feel him rub his tip around your rim.
Without even another word he shoved his whole cock inside your available hole in one thrust, making you moan into Hongjoong’s ear.
“Now be a good little cocksleeve and stay still while we fuck you stupid.” Jongho ordered as he was slowly pulling on his length while you felt Hongjoong squirm beneath you and plant both his feet on the ground only to thrust up inside of you at the exact same time as Jongho.
You can't help but scream-moan as the two rods inside you grind against each other. You plant your manicured nails on Hongjoong’s shoulders, almost to the point of drawing blood making him arch his back and chuckle at the dull pain.
“Fuck yes!!” you cry out, hanging your head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they move in unison to rearrange your guts. 
“That feels good, doll?” Hongjoong asks, continuously fucking his hips up into you.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I fucking love it” you say through gritted teeth trying your hardest not to let yourself cum from the sheer pressure the both apply in turns to your sweet spot.
“Yeah” Jongho added from behind you. “You love two cocks fucking you up like this?” He said squeezing your ass, nails digging in the supple flesh of your raw cheeks. 
“Yes Sir. I love both your cocks” you reply.
“Two cocks at the same time is the bare minimum for a whore like you right, baby?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your bum. 
“Oh my god. Please can I cum now?” you ask in a strangled moan, knowing well enough by the way your pussy and ass are throbbing you won’t be able to hold back much longer. You are desperate for your release.
“Beg us for it.” Hongjoong said, his hands holding your waist down.
At this point you've lost consciousness of everything that isn't the two cocks slamming inside you right now. You can’t remember anything except for the unbearable pleasure you feel, making your walls clench and your center gush with wet and slimy arousal, coating the two man fucking you into your next life right now. If anybody asked you, you couldn’t even remember your own name. At this point you would do anything, anything at all, to finally grasp your climax. You only want one thing and it is to finally cum around these two cocks. And if you have to beg for it, so be it.
“Please. Please. Sir. Please let me cum for you. There's nothing I want more than to show you how I shake and scream for your cocks. Wanna cum for you, wanna give you the best show. Wanna make you cum inside my throbbing little hungry cunt” You struggle to say between moans, your voice interrupted by the incessant carousel of their thrusts inside your tired and shapeless little holes.
“Go ahead, doll. Cum.”
Finally you let go of that pressure building in your core, the burning pleasure spreading into your limbs and making you shake. Your cunt and ass violently throbbing and clenching on Jongho and Hongjoong. You cry and moan as tears of relief roll down on your cheeks.
“So fucking pretty cumming on our cocks, doll” Hongjoong praises as his hips become sloppy. “Want me to fill your pretty little cunt with my cum?” he asks, teeth grazing your ears. 
“Yes please, sir” you reply in a sob, your orgasm continuing to rip through you.
“Fucking take my cum deep in your ass, fucking whore” Jongho demands a he releases inside your throbbing little hole. 
“Yes Thank you sir”  you cry out, your ass clenching around the younger one’s thick cock. 
“Fuckkk” Hongjoong grunts as he finally cums inside you filling your wet hole with hot cum, the thick slimy and white liquid spilling and dripping down, joining the existing mess on the carpeted floor. 
The three of you ascending to your peaks at the same time in a beautiful unisson of moans and grunts. Until they gradually stop their hips smashing into yours. For a couple of minutes you all just lay there to catch your breath, all piled on top of each other. 
After that you barely have enough time to summarily wash up (meaning roughly wipe away the smudged makeup, cum and sweat with a hot towel and hop back into your former uniform) before you have to fasten your seat belt again. 
The descent is smooth, in this general euphoria there’s nothing awkward left between you and the members. After being so intimate with each other there’s no place left for embarrassment or discomfort. You are even able to crack a few jokes and communicate light heartedly. Except for the stain on the carpeted floor and the remnants of your endeavors in your hair there was no way of knowing what had happened between all of you only minutes ago.
As they disembarked the jet Hongjoong gave you one last small paper bag. He insisted that it was more than well deserved after the service of the highest quality you provided.
“Really I insist” he says, pushing the small bag into your hands. “Please take this and open it as soon as you get the time” he says before glancing back at his members waiting for him a little further already geared up with the beanies, bucket hats, sun glasses and masks. 
“Thank you very much” you said bowing your head respectfully. “Thank you for choosing Air France, we hope to see you soon” you said waving goodbye at them while they disappeared in the elbowed tube.
You sat on the bench and opened the small bag to find huge stacks of cash in 500 euros bills. Your heart almost looped in your chest and you thanked yourself to have chosen to sit before opening the final gift. You found a small card inside it.
We wanted to get you enough that you could retire if you wanted to. But we really hope you don’t ;)...
See you soon y/n.
-8 makes 1 girl cream, ATEEZ
ps: it was Mingi’s idea.
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ateez masterlist | navigation
taglist: @eastleighsblog @starillusion13 @hgjfever @legohwas @hwaightme @justhere4kpop @goldnhwa @bella-hi @twancingyunhao @darlingaurora-h @mulletjoonsupremacy @dreamlesswonder86 @erensluut @atinism @slu77ym4nw415ts @minkysmilk @hongglovs @chocolagirlstuff @fudgeflyssworld @seonghwasslytherin @anamalik1201 @phalanxiphor @owjohny @marsstarxhwa @tojifush1 @8makes1scream @meloeuphoria @archive-of-z @kitten4sannie @gh0stbish @senpai-of-doom @hyukssunflower
you read the whole thing and you survived please answer this poll? it would help me so much! <3
a/n: so?? how was it?? honestly im so so happy to present that to you finally! i've had this idea first since 2020 and it took 3 whole years for the idea to be shaped into something that i could actually write then actually taking the time to write and edit and publish... so pleaseeee tell me you enjoyed if you did. in the comments or in my asks if you wanna stay anon 🥸 (especially if you read the watersports and you liked it. im scared about publishing something like this so reassure me pls <3). you really have no idea how happy it would make me if you left a nice comment. honeslty just come fuel my praise kink please 🥺. And reblogging would be really great too <333 that being said im thankful you read it wether you choose to react or not and ily <3
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bombuni · 5 months
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contains: poly!ateez x gn!reader, soft ateez taking care of u, non-verbal and self-isolating reader, implied depressed/chronically ill reader
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you: babies i think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight
joong: Everything ok?
minmin: but im hungry and u said u’d make dinner :(
woo: WE’RE HUNGRY!!! OM NOM NOM
you: just not feeling it tonight. sorry
You shut your phone off with guilt weighing in your heart. You had promised your boys a nice home-made dinner after a hard week full of non-stop practicing. You knew they’d been looking forward to it the entire week, the stress-free time they’d get to spend with you, but, there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing the past week and now it’s big enough to stop you from doing anything else but wallow in your thoughts. Now the guilt just adds to it.
There’s times when you don’t have energy for anything. Not even for your favorite people on Earth and it’s simply your body’s fault. At least you try to tell yourself that.
There’s no response to your last message and you sent it an hour ago. Usually you’d be suspicious about the lack of whining and bickering, but you’re just too tired to worry as fatigue fogs your senses. You’re set for a night of self-pity when your front door unlocks, myriads of voices barging in and breaking the calm of your apartment. You already feel a headache coming on as Wooyoung, like usual, argues about whatever hill he’s chosen to die on.
You want to get up to greet them, but somethings stopping you. The pit in your stomach almost weighs you down, your limbs too heavy to move now. You sigh and surrender to your body’s fatigue.
Seonghwa watches you with a sad look on his face. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your sad ruts by now, the most obvious of all being when you go out of your way to isolate yourself. It hurts him because he wants to help you, but he‘s not quite sure how to do it right with you.
“Sweet thing,” he coos quietly and lays a gentle hand atop yours, “how do you feel?”
His attention turns a switch on in you, feeling yourself melt against his soft touch and caring voice. You shrug, feeling a loss of words. You don’t really have any to describe how you feel. Or rather, there’s a boulder in your throat stopping you from even attempting to say anything.
Hongjoong and San walk over, the latter immediately scooping you up into his arms despite Seonghwa’s protests. Hongjoong leans over the back of the couch, carding his fingers through your hair and tutting at the state you’re in.
“You’re not getting rid of us that easy, you know,” he mumbles.
San looks right at you even if you won’t meet his eyes, trying his best to communicate the worry he has because he knows words don’t work with you when you’re like this. Seonghwa flicks San’s forehead, pulling a loud noise of protest out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the kitchen?”
San responds by pulling you tightly against him and closing his eyes in bliss. Seonghwa grumbles something about disrespect, but walks away to help in the kitchen himself. It’s starting to feel a little warm with San’s irresistible need to touch you and Hongjoong’s eyes not once leaving your form. It gets unbearably hot when you feel Mingi’s lips against the crown of your head, Wooyoung doing the same and immediately jumping into gently scolding you for pushing them away.
Hongjoong wants to agree but he knows it’s not what you need right now. He shushes Wooyoung, “Did you take your meds yet?”
You shake your head. Yunho walks up to you, bending down to hand you your medicine with a kind smile on his face. He takes your hand in his when you swallow your pills, kissing each of your knuckles gently, as if he fears scaring you away.
“Here.” Yeosang passes you a glass of water. There’s eight pairs of eyes on you and you can feel each one. It’s like they’re watching a zoo animal on display and you’d laugh at the thought in any other circumstance.
Jongho stands across you, intently staring you down, “You know you can’t just expect us to leave you alone, right?”
San pulls your head into his chest and throws protective arms over you as if you’re a kid getting a scolding, “Don’t be mean.”
Jongho is about to retort before Seonghwa stops him, “Ok! Ok, what Jongho means,” he kneels down next to Yunho with a gentle expression aimed at you, “Is that we want to help you, sweetheart. And it’s hard to do that when you don’t allow us to,”
Yeosang scratches at his neck as he finds the words, “We know it’s hard for you to do that, but…”
Hongjoong continues for him, “We’re just asking that you try at least. Okay?”
You hesitantly nod into San’s chest and you feel him let out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung speaks up from behind you, “You’re hogging ‘em, Sannie,”
He shakes his head violently and hugs you tighter, “No ‘m not.”
Mingi grimaces, “You totally are.”
It’s all-out war again and your body shakes between theirs as each one tries to take you for themselves. San’s still got a good grip on you as Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho fight to pull him off of you. Wooyoung and Mingi stand back and argue with San, really the only thing they’re good for. Hongjoong and Yeosang grimace and watch the events unfold, only waiting to step in if they notice you get overwhelmed.
But you don’t. You feel warm and loved and happy, and there’s a bubble of laughter forming in your throat and surpassing the boulder that was stuck in you before. You’ll take it one step at a time, and they’ll take that step with you.
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bom note: this is for the gays with chronic fear of being emotionally vulnerable. i tried to make readers issues as vague as possible for u. Also realistically i would not want 8 men all up in my space when im in one of these moods but it’s fantasy ok shhh
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love-fictional-ppl · 6 months
Text
Bf!James Headcanons
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Summary: sfw + nsfw headcanons for bf!james
Pairings: James Potter x gryffindor!fem!reader, platonic!marauders x fem!reader, platonic!lily evans x fem!reader
Warnings: language, James is a simp, nsfw stuff duh, underage drinking, switch!james, boobjobs, mention of pegging, cum (idk i think im js kinda fascinated by cum), oral(male and female receiving), breeding, slight choking, contraceptives, way more I just don’t feel like listing.
A/N: characters are set in their 7th year.
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SFW:
First off, we all know this man is a simp for his girl. Like he is down bad.
This man will go and buy you candy from Honeydukes, he will buy you all sorts of stuffed animals, you name it.
Give him homemade gifts! He loves it! Collages, bracelets, small gift baskets, flowers and flower crowns
James absolutely loves when you have a shared class with him, the way you walk hand in hand to the class and sit a seat away from him. He constantly is passing notes back and forth with you and getting in trouble for it, but he doesn’t care one bit.
Sirius loves to tease James for how “pussy whipped” he is. James can’t even deny it.
Permanent puppy dog eyes when he looks at you.
Surprisingly good at gossiping with.
You steal his clothes and he is perfectly fine with it, in fact he prefers it. Sometimes he’ll even bring you a random piece of his clothing bc he wants you to wear it.
You were James’ date to the Yule ball. Sirius spiked the punch. Remus was a victim of the punch.
Oh god. One time the marauders went out to the shrieking shack and got super drunk, James wouldn’t stop whining for you. When the boys came back they sent Lily to fetch you. You got stuck sitting with one very intoxicated James Potter in the common room, you both wound up falling asleep on one of the sofas. The next morning you were woken up by James running to throw up.
Loves to take you on picnics next to the Black Lake. This boy can’t help spoiling you.
He just sneaks in the kitchens and the house elves give him all the food for your dates.
James’ parents adore you, their house is practically your second home.
You come to every quidditch game, you wear one of his scarves and wear as much gryffindor clothing as you can.
You scream James’ name and cheer for him, you give him a kiss after each game and you give him a little more than kiss when they win.
Play with his hair. He will start purring.
He smells like grass, sandalwood, cigarettes from sitting next to Sirius and aftershave
Will use your lotion, perfume, lipgloss, chapstick, boy don’t care.
NSFW:
Oh my lord. James is in love with your body. He wants to touch every part of you all the time.
mating press, full Nelson, cowgirl, missionary are his favorite positions. And let me tell you, he knows how to hit.
Boob jobs. He’s obsessed with them, he loves to make it messy by cumming all over your face and tits.
Ultimately James is a sub leaning switch. He’ll fuck you just how you want tho don’t worry.
James loves trying new things. He will come to you with porno magz he snatched from Sirius asking you timidly if you want to do that stuff.
He has the highest sex tolerance ever. James’ always hard and always needs to go, he can fuck 3-4 rounds b4 he’s down.
Peg him.
He’s so loud when he’s subbing. James will moan and whine and babble at you. When he’s in charge tho… he’ll dirty talk and groan and grunt, occasionally a whimper.
He loves to cum on you, on your face, tits, ass, thighs, pussy. He wants to see you drenched in it. He loves how messy and gross you look after.
James loves to cum inside of you also, he has a massive breeding kink. He will keep pumping you with his loads, so make sure to tell him to stop and learn sum morning after spells.
Prefers giving head over receiving. Don’t get me wrong, he loves blowjobs but he loves the taste of your pussy a tad bit more. James eats like a god too. He will overstimulate you just so he can slurp up your juices.
The blowjobs are great in their own way, the soft warmth of your mouth, how expertly you work his cock, oh and the gag reflex that drives him crazy. He almost busts on the spot.
He loves to fuck you in the showers after his games, his way of blowing off steam. After a particularly hard game, his hand may snake around your throat causing your vision to blur and you to lose your breath.
Getting handled by James is the definition of getting manhandled like a rag doll. He forgets his own strength.
He hates condoms, would rather pull out or some other contraceptive.
Baby is definitely a pervert and steals your panties, you know but just don’t care since he always returns them. He takes them to sniff and lick sometimes James wraps them around his cock and masturbates to the thought of your tight little cunt.
He is a fan of degradation and praise, giving and receiving.
Mommy kink. He will suck on your tits too, if you could produce milk, he would love it. Just wants you to baby him.
He has really sensitive nipples, do what you want with this info.
Good with after care, he’ll clean himself up then grab washcloth and wipe you down, afterwards lying down, cuddling you and thanking you.
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Not proofread! I was bored ash so do what u want with this😭 ngl I kinda wanna write a stepdad!james fic next
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ive had this idea in my head AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING ITS SO MMHDDKDHJD!!! im thinking any season spencer reid x photographer!reader who lovess taking pictures of him!!! he's like her muse of sorts!!! i just think it would be a cute fluffy idea soo yeah!! (again i LOVE your work you are so amazing I LOVE YOU MWAH!)
Pictures Pictures
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A/N: Mathew Gray Gubler is so photogenic that i can definitely see this.
Also when i say heart eyes I mean.
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Spencer was heart eyes the entire afternoon. He had gotten you a Canon EOS R5 for your birthday and you hadn't put it down. He was glad you loved it so because he had spent 3 months figuring which one you would like and which one would fit with your work. The moment your eye lit up his heart slowed them.
He was now currently sat in a field as you stood a whiles back taking pictures. He finally agreed to you taking a picture and you snatched him up immediately. In a casual outfit the two of you went over two a quiet field that Spencer loved.
You took your camera and spent the noon taking candid photos of Spencer 'frolicking' in fields. Finally you stopped and Spencer sat in the field taking a breather.
As you began to set up your tripod you could feel his gaze on you. You glanced and your heart squeezed.
"Come on stop looking at me like that." you pouted as you looked passed you camera. Your boyfriend blinked before tilted his head, grinning. "Like what?"
"Like a puppy, like you're in love with me!"you whined.
"But i am." he said matching your exasperated tone. You rolled your eyes. You went behind your camera looking at him, focusing the frame. Spencer Reid was he was beautiful, the falling sun behind him, his messed up hair(curtsy of you). You raised your head and stretched closing your eyes before looking back into the camera.
He followed your directions, and soon you could have sworn you had filled the card.
Fireflies began to rise from the grassland.
"Spencer...don't move." you watched as some of them land in his hair.
Spencer sighed slightly. He was glad he took the entire day off like Derek had suggested.
______
"FRONT PAGE."
A magazine was banged onto your desk.
Spencer Reid was sat crossed legged looking at the camera, fireflies surrounding him with some in and out of his hair like a crown. If you looked closely into his eye you would see the reflection of the photographer illuminated by the lights.
"What's his status? single? dating? married? widower?"
"Boyfriend, my boyfriend." you grinned giggling at your work. Your boss rolled her eyes.
"Why do you get the good stuff." you shrugged.
"I'm blessed."
______
"The gang saw the photos." Spencer said randomly as you were watching a series. You turned in his arms and looked up at him.
"What? how? I didn't think you guys really were on that side of the world."
He chuckled, "I would have thought that too until Penelope came flying in with the magazine in her hand a file on you."
"A file." you burst out laughing. "How extensive was it, did she get my kindergarten crimes."
"Everything, from which tooth fell first to which child you punched when you were 5."
"6"
Before long a knock sounded behind you. You were in spencer's apartment so you didn't really make an effort to follow him to the door.
____
Little bit
______
"Don't worry i won't let them see your fairy prince moment." the tip of his ears reddened.
His fairy prince moment was him standing with his arms spread, lights around him his crown fading slightly as he disrupts the fireflies. Cheeks red and lips slightly swollen and kissable.
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my313 · 6 months
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smutty yeonjun historical au ur insane… pride and prejudice bridgerton duke yeonjun courting n marrying n slutting out little innocent virgin lady of the court reader
ahshdwadehsgbfha im going insane
cw corruption kink, possessiveness, use of sir, oral sex (m & f rec.), implied fingering, inaccurate period fashion lol sry (did ppl wear underwear back then??? i swear bridgerton mentioned sumn abt that /srs)
yeonjun's had his eyes set on you since the season started, crowned as this year's diamond – he knew he couldn't have anyone else. you were the perfect little doll, every fibre of his being wanting to touch your skin and teach you what it means to be husband and wife.
i just know that he has a raging corruption kink 😭 knowing nobody has ever had you and it'll only be him from here on out really fuels his possessiveness. he'd be kind of toxic and pay off or literally get rid of all your other suitors lined up outside your door <:
he'd be soso turned on the first time you'd try to initiate something w him, jjun would be so into guiding you at every step. you're finally out of the stuffy layers, the tension rising each time he tugs at the ribbons of your corset, unraveling you like a gift. he has to hold himself back when you obediently fall to your knees, between his legs and head resting on his thigh. he's so soft and gentle when taking your face and caressing your cheek, cooing at your cute attempts of licking the tip of his cock. later on, after many praises, he practically uses your hair as a tool to guide your mouth, pushing you deeper. yeonjun's favourite sight is probably the first time you looked up at him with watery eyes, breathless and seeking validation, "have i satisfied you, sir?"
yeonjun would definitely return the favour. you'd be confused at first when it's his turn to be below you, making you lay back on his bed with your chemise lifted up. he pushes your legs apart even wider, kisses tickling your inner thigh until you feel his wet tongue over your underwear. you're squealing and trying to reel back, "w-wait.. that is.. you cannot put your mouth–" but yeonjun doesn't pay heed to your cries, only urging him to tuck your underwear to the side and finally feel your bare cunt on him. his eyes go from closing shut out of pure delight, letting out the most sinful moans like he had been starved the night prior, to peering up at your face to see your adorable reactions. he doesn't stop even when you're essentially ripping the hair off his scalp, only satisfied when you're reduced to a sobbing mess, nearing your orgasm. he drinks in the way your eyes blank out and your grip on him tightens. "w-what is this feeling..? mmf–"
he pulls back with the most cocky grin on his face, so satisfied with the fact that he's the first to make you cum; to be the one to etch this pleasure into your body. his face is covered in slick, plump lips even bigger and glistening with your cum. yeonjun leans in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. the same cheeky smile tugs at his lips when he pulls you into his lap, prying your legs apart again with his fingers ghosting over your sensitive cunt.
"i'm still quite starved, darling. shall we go on? i will have to prepare you for our wedding day, no?"
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daenysthedreamersblog · 9 months
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STRANGERS
Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love
Freezer bride, your sweet divine
You devour like smoked bovine hide
How funny, I never considered myself tough
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summary: you've won the hunger games, and ready to return home in peace, but president snow has other plans for you, and he won't take no for an answer.
pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader
warnings: MDNI!, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, heavy drinking, non-con male masturbation, non-con oral sex (m receiving), roses ( pls let me know if i forgot any!)
notes: im new at publishing on tumblr so pls be patient with me! also new at writing in second person POV so sorry for any mistakes! hope u enjoy! there will be more parts coming soon!
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Blood splatters onto your face.
"Please," He mouthed underneath you, but the knife was plunging down anyways. You couldn’t hear it.
The crunch of a sternum bone.
Silence. Cold silence rang in your ears and you blinked climbing off of the body a distant boom rupturing around the arena, but you only felt to shake of it, the sudden vibrational change in the air. You looked around the sun blaring down onto you as you turned away from the dead boy, you stumble forward, knee giving out from under you before you collapsed to the ground rolling onto your back staring upward. The blood oozed from the wound on your leg, it stung, it stung harshly, but it was welcomed.
It was over. Everything. It was over and all you were met with was blood stained hands and silence. You could smell the rot forming in your soul.
Boots were pounding into the ground, surrounding you, guns pointing at your body. Hands wrapped around your biceps pulling you, dragging you out of purgatory and into the looming light ahead.
~
"Congratulations." He whispered placing the small crown on your head, a dainty gold thing, his hands lingering too long on a wisp of your hair. The games had cut off your tongue it seems words never rising to the surface. His hand was under you chin, "Smile. You've won." It felt like a command so the corners of your mouth tugged up as the camera flashed upon you, shaking hands with your esteemed president.
"Thank you." His jaw ticked at your slip, the lack of his title, but he shook your hand anyways as Lucky Flickerman’s crew zoomed in for their close up. The motions were clear, set into place as you read the prepared words off the telecom. If you could get through this then you could return home where it was simple and safe. You would be okay once the Capitol train dropped you off in District 6 where you can happily watch it all disappear forever.
A hand slid to the small of your back, your spine locking up as another photo flashed of the two of you. Your smile stumbled as his shoulder pressed into yours heat pouring off of him where your bodies collided.
You met his eyes, face half turned towards each other, and your cheeks burned with a flush.
The only good thing about winning was finally eating and drinking real food again.
You downed cups and flutes of any alcohol you could find shoved into your hands drowning out the sound of people talking, congratulating you. It was cruel really how when the film of a camera was replaced it sounded like small bones cracking, so your drank more. Why were they so thankful? They arranged for you to be there...they sent you to either die or kill for them. Because some great-great grand-whatever rebelled, so now you had to live with the consequences of someone else actions.
Your brain was beyond heavy, mouth no doubt stained red from the wine. One more day, one more day and you would be going home to die of hopefully natural causes some other time. One more day and you would be out of this hateful city, away from theses entitled, hateful people. You felt it then, the dryness in your throat, the angry water welling in your eyes. You set the empty cup down, stumbling away from the party silent tears beginning to unwarrantedly roll down your cheeks. You gripped the railing as you climbed the stairs towards the mansion doors needing to hide away from the world, and when you reached the top you pushed it open harshly. The heels of your shoes clicked on marble floor in an empty hallway, a door slamming shut behind you as you kept moving. The hallway was spinning like you were stuck in a concrete mixer turning and turning and turning.
You tripped over your foot catching yourself by throwing a hand out to the wall, collapsing onto a small cushioned bench. The groan left your mouth as you slid out of your shoes feet aching, you felt the long gash of the scar the District 2 tribute had given you. It was taking a while to fully close, the wound on you soul would never heal either it seemed.
More tears. More anger.
"You should be celebrating." The cold, calculating voice cut through the air.
You could only roll your head upward, too drunk, too ashamed to be afraid at the surprise. Fresh tears rolled down your cheek. "I did."
Footsteps were coming towards you, slow, like the wolf hunting a doe, and that was when your body alerted, when he had stepped into your space, head snapping towards him. He looked as calm and collected as his tone, a rich black suit fitted to his lean body, a hand lazily in his pocket as his legs bracketed in your knee. "Then why are you in here? I have a whole party out there for you and you hide away in my home.”
"Too noisy." You stared up at him with red rimmed eyes as he towered over, your vision fuzzy at the corners.
His knuckle came up to your cheek collecting the tear freshly traveling down makeup covered skin. "You should be celebrating." He repeated the moisture glistening on his bone. "Not crying."
You sniffed, your voice cracking from crying, "Sorry sir."
"Mr. President." He corrected.
"Sorry, Mr. President sir." You cleared your throat offering him a fake smile.
His hand came under your chin, a pinky resting on your jaw his thumb tracing puffy, wine stained lips, "That's a good girl. Too much wine I suspect hmm?" You only nodded as he held you face, held your life with it too. You might have won his games, but he could still ruin everything, ruin the little family left back home. He had always made that clear to everyone; it wasn’t a shock people started dying soon after they crossed him.
"Yes. Mr. President, sir.” For some reason another tear slipped out with a wide eyed blink.
"You look so pretty when you cry." He traced over your lip one more time gently pushing in until the pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue. You heard the wet noise of his lips parting, as he took a quiet deep breath your teeth grazing his skin. Then he popped it out, bought it to his mouth, sucking gently on your leftover wine. "Come." He wrapped his arm around your bicep pulling you to your feet in front of him. "Let's get you some food, introduce you to some more friends of mine, and then bed." Two hands stroked down your hair holding your head between his palms. "How does that sounds my little victor?"
A dark gaze lingered in his eyes that there was no way around what he wanted, no telling him no. So you let him bend down and slip your shoes back on keeping your face towards the opposite wall. ”Yes Mr. President, sir.” His hand lingered too long on your bare ankle before he rose.
He smiled, a snake like gleam in it, like he had finished wrapping his body around his victim to suffocate it. One more day, and then you were done. He could introduce you to whoever he liked, feed you whatever he wanted, but come tomorrow on that beautiful train ride home the Capitol, the games would be a distant traumatizing memory, and he would just be a face on a screen come next year.
He plucked the white rose off the front of his suit jacket, took the pin out, and tucked it behind your ear to sit prettily in your hair.
His hand wrapped around your waist causing you to grip his forearm to stumble out into the party once more. Your eyes scanned the party, catching on a young girl, the winner from District 4. Her name started with an M, but you couldn’t find the rest of it in you hazy brain. The only thing you could focus on was the sad frown etched upon her pretty face as President Snow dragged you through his party.
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6 months later
You wiped dirt off on your pants standing up to admire the blooming garden spread out in front of you. A smile flittered onto your face for only a moment before it fell staring at the wilting leaves on top of wet soil. They had fallen no doubt during a weeding or pruning or plain decay, but they were there ready for the earth to absorb them for nutrients.
Did the arena absorb their decaying bodies too or were they flown away somewhere else? Did they go back to their families so they could rest in peace?
You shook the thought grabbing gardening tools and the water can heading back to the house. Time was helping, the white noise of the district was helping, the trains going by were helping. The only reminder you had ever been carted away...well that and the large sum you had been gifted upon winning. You decided to ration it, save it but comfortably. It was the only thing truly stopping you from drowning yourself in alcohol or morphling, and the disappointed look your father had given you when they had carried you off the train, too wasted to walk. You took up gardening soon after the initial withdrawing, rotting period needing to keep you hands, your mind busy.
The scent of vanilla hit you as soon as you entered the house your body freezing on the threshold. It was a warm vanilla scent, which meant your mother had made tea, which meant there was company. You set your tools down, peeling off you mud stained boots. Your mother laughed as you slowly continued down the hall, the sound muffled by the kitchen wall you had yet to curve around to enter the kitchen. Alarms shot off in your head, the hair on your neck standing up knowing it wasn't anyone from District 6.
"Mother." You called seeing the outline of her at the table.
"Darling." Your mother smiled as you turned the corner, eyes flitting over to the man across the table from her sipping on his tea. A fresh bouquet of white roses sat in a new vase at the center of the table. "We have a guest."
"Mr. President." Your mouth dried out, feet heavy, gluing you to the middle of the kitchen. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Your mother only stood up rushing towards you, taking your hands to sweetly drag you to the table. "Come sit, my darling bluebell." She forced you into an empty chair around the modest circular table, a plaid green table cloth covering it. You kept eyes on him as she poured tea into the only empty cup. Once the kettle was down she discreetly tried to wipe dirt off your face, "Always covered in something from your little garden."
President Snow mouth quirked up. "Garden?"
You only managed a nod. ”It was a small little thing, something to help…” Her eyes dropped, “Something to keep her busy, and well before you knew it it had taken up most of the lawn." Another discreet pat on the cheek. "I have never been more proud than when I see her out there working on it." She chuckled, "Well besides when you put the tiara on her head." You inwardly cringed at the word tiara, at the reminded of what had been done to earn it.
"My grandmother grew roses." He motioned to the red one he worse pinned to his blue suit. His eyes met yours, "Do you?" A small nod as steam swirled up from the tea that would never be drank, "May I see them?"
Your mother stood up answering, "Of course." Her hands came upon you shoulders, "Go change and show our lovely President." You pushed the chair back using it as an escape for the moment, "Wash your face, and put on that pretty blue sun dress." You didn't answer, only walked back down the hall to your room finally able to breath normally away from his suffocating presence. What was he doing all the way out here? You had figured, had clung, to the fact you would never have to see him, or the Capitol again, and now he was here invading your home.
After washing your shaking hands and face, digging the dirt out of your nails, and braiding your hair back did you put that stupid sundress on and walk back out. Your mother was standing by the door a forced smile on her lips, "Yes sir, no sir." She reminded you, pulling small tendrils of hair loose around your face. "Don't speak unless spoken to."
"I know." You told her, forcing her hands away from your face reciting what your father and mother had both instilled in you. "I am grateful for what you've done for us President Snow."
"Mr. President Snow, sir." She pinched your cheeks to give them color then let you step around her and out of the house.
He was standing near the edge of the garden just before the walkway split separating each sections. "It truly does take up most of the lawn." He smiled holding out his arm for you. You slowly allowed him to hook it under his elbow to lead down the walkway. "It smells divine."
"Thank you." You swallowed, "Mr. President, sir."
He only smirked, "Your mother raised a well mannered woman."
You offered him a shy smile, ”My father and mother always instilled proper etiquette as best as they could. They emphasized respect and dutifulness."
"Important traits to have." He agreed. He was Capitol, he was the president, no doubt relishing in the fact district folks weren't born with those traits, they had to have it beat into them.
His hand clamped around yours, trapping it in his arm. Your breaths shook, don’t stutter. "My roses are just this way." You motioned up the path for him to lead in that direction.
The rose bush could have looked better, but it had always been a work in progress, a difficult flower to manage, and your heart had never truly been fond of roses. Red and yellow seeds were the only color you could acquire so the colors sometimes missed their mark or died all together. “Troublesome for you?” There was no hiding the disappointment in his tone.
“Yes.” An embarrassed response. "I'm tempted to rid myself of them."
"Hmm," He stepped forward fingers running along the soft petals. "I have a garden full of white roses, I brought some for you today."
You gave him a small smile. "Thank you. I'm sure my mother adores them."
"They're for you, not her." He flatly told you a sneer on his face. "A gift of sorts to my favorite little victor." He smirked down at the bush plucking a perky red rose from its stem. "Or what did she call you?" He turned back towards you, "Her darling bluebell?"
The blush bit at your cheeks, "Thank you. Mr. President sir." He smiled deeply tucking the stem of the rose behind your ear rooting it into the braid. "They are lovely." I lied. The scent of roses overtook the air to the point you felt dizzy with it, felt them swallowing you whole like he did.
"I do hope your mother won’t mind looking after it all.” He sighed his hand running down your arm as blood drained out of you, the question sitting leaden in your mouth. "We're trying something new, something Dr. Gaul believed would bring good publicity to the games." You chewed on your cheek, biting the refusal back. You remembered hearing about her death a year or two ago. "A victory tour of sorts." Both hands were on your arms holding you in front of him, "You'll go district to district letting them celebrate you and then finish at the Capitol. I'm going to throw you another party."
Oh
His hand came under your chin tilting your face up to him, "How does that sound my little bluebell?"
"Okay." You whispered because it was what was supposed to be said to him.
He beamed, "Such a good girl." His smile fell, "Since this is the first time we're doing it I'll be going with you of course to make sure everything goes smoothly."
Ice coated you. How long would this be? Would he ever let you remain in peace? Would the garden wither and die in the time you would be gone? Why did he stare like that?
You only nodded the obedience in your spine locking into place.
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It wasn't horrible. The train was comfy and reminded you of home, the rumbling sound it made, the smell of the smoke and gasoline, the horn blaring through the night. They had written words, of course, to say at every district, reciting from a script how sorry you were for their losses and how thankful you are for the Capitol and their generosity. President Snow talked the most which was ironically a godsend since you didn't want to speak at all.
Mostly, there was food, tons of food...and wine.
You more self-indulgent habit to make the time go by smoother. Even more so now because you could, because it was free, because your parents weren't here to shame you. You would stop once you got home; you had done it before. When the tour was over, you would stop, you would go back home, relish in the normalcy, the garden, where it was safe. Where no one could find you.
Snow wouldn't be on the train ride home.
It unnerved you that he was here simply a few train cars down, eating, sleeping, plotting murder no doubt, planning more games. It only made you swig from the bottle more to shove the anxiety down.
You had crawled in the train car window, a comfy seat under it, curling you feet under you to watch the night blur past. Each bump comforted you, like you were in the older train cars carting people around the district. The moon wasn't out making any outline impossible to see, so you closed your eyes, pretending to hear the bustling square at home. You took another drink of wine savoring the lazy feeling coating your body.
The door slid open no doubt an Avox coming to do some chore, so you didn’t even bother to look. "You didn't come to dinner." Your head snapped up seeing Snow standing in the door a tray of food in his hands, "They said you only grabbed a bottle of wine and left."
"I wasn't hungry." Not a lie, you had felt ill since leaving District 9 the tributes faces beginning to gnaw at you once more. You had survived, and they hadn’t, and it felt wrong. "Mr. President, sir."
He wasn't wearing his normal suit instead a pair of dress pants, and a starched white button up, the top two buttons undone. His immaculate blonde hair was slightly mused a stray curling piece falling onto his forehead. "Come eat with me." You weighed the options before unfolding your legs out and turning to slid off the sill. You tugged at the nightgown they had shoved in the closet for sleep, a soft thin robe covering your shoulders over it. They hadn’t allowed you to bring any clothes from home. His eyes glanced up your body as you pulled it tighter around you.
"Excuse my appearance Mr. President, sir." You sat down across from him.
"No need." He only smiled as he pushed the tray. "Do you like the train?"
You nodded picking at the food, "It reminds me of home. We used to live by the test track before it moved, and it used to rumble the house. I used to hate it growing up, but now it seems to have grown on me."
"I bet it has." You should enjoy the food more, shovel it down until it was nothing. Your family had never suffered too much within the district not like the others, like 10,11,12... but it wasn't exactly always easy. The Capitol was always cramming food down your throat before and after the games, before you had reveled in it, the after...it tasted like dust in my mouth sometimes. You set the fork down pushing the half eaten tray away, but he only pushed it back. "Eat, please." You began to open your mouth in protest, but his jaw ticked. "Eat." A command, "All of it."
You watched his face, bottom lip trembling at the new tone he was using. It was bound to come out, but you had been so kind, always listened. You slowly began eating again forcing each bite until nothing remained, until your chest was tight with a full stomach. You took a sip of water. Always thank him, your mother had whispered on your way out of the door, Even if you are not thankful.’ “Thank you, Mr. President sir."
"You are so good to me, my little bluebell." He leaned forward the darkness engulfing the blue in his eyes. "Can you do something for me?" You made yourself nod even-though fear was trickling down your skin. He motioned with his head, "Go lie down on the bed."
The color drained from your face, "Wh-What?"
Don't stutter.
You cursed inwardly for the slip. ”Be my good girl and go lie down on the bed." His grin widened, “I won’t say it again.”
By the time your knee hit the bed tears had slipped over, you tried to stop them, but they welled anyways as you turned to look at him. He stalked towards you unbuttoning his pants, unzipping them, so you forced your gaze upward taking in the sounds of rustling. His hands pushed the robe down your shoulders letting it pool onto the bed. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to stop him as his fingers trailed along your bare shoulders, along your collarbones, up your neck. "Spit." He held out his hand. You swallowed, pulling the liquid back up and spit into his palm watching him bring it between his legs. You forced yourself to not look down, not look at what his hand was doing with a large length, to not look as he slid his hand along it. His other hand came up to your face, once again dragging across your bottom lip, pushing his finger further in, hooking it onto your bottom teeth. "Suck on it." He growled. You blinked fresh tears out before letting your tongue poke and lick up his finger, swirling around his knuckle listening to his pants. A cry of protest sat in your lungs, but would it matter? Were you always bound to be at his mercy, cursed to obey his whims to exert his power. “You listen so good." His head fell back a little the small groan hiding the sounds of him stroking himself. “Will you take my cock good too?”
"Please." You whimpered against his hand finding the smallest resistance in yourself at his words. "Please sir...I'm a virgin. I-I don't-!"
He shoved you back onto the bed with a growl his knees straddling your thigh as he pumped his hand faster and faster groaning into the air as two fingers invaded your mouth thrusting along your tongue. You felt violated, but all you could do was lie there and take it, let him do whatever he was doing because you were good, because he was the president and you had to obey. You closed your eyes tears burning your skin on the way his movements shook your body, until finally he stilled warmth shooting over your skin.
You finally breathed as he removed his fingers and stepped away. You lied there, listening to him straighten his clothes back on. "Don't change. Sleep in that." You glanced down at the white clumps running down your nightgown, some even drying to your exposed chest.
He stared at you expectantly. Thank him, even when you're not thankful. "Thank you Mr. President, sir.”
His grin was haunting as he left.
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The rest of the tour went unbothered. He only occasionally came back to repeat those events, but each time it got a little easier as you began to know what to expect, each time you dared to look a little bit more. Sometimes even getting lost in the way his hand glided across his glistening cock covered in your spit. On the rare nights, you even gazed upward at him, at his hooded eyes, sweat dripping down his forehead, tongue between his teeth. You even began to listen to the noises he made, the heavy grunts, the soft groans and grit of his jaw, his vulgar words at you when his eyes suddenly met yours making you look away with heat in your cheeks.
And then he would cum over your body.
You threw up after the first night only forcing it to stay on your body because he had said so. After that it became easier to withstand the feeling, the warmth, the smell. You realized after a few times it gave off a scent you had only attributed to him, you only knew that because he often stood so close to you. It was so mild and hidden that you could only tell when you brought some close to your nose, and since it was already there you tasted it and you figured his skin might taste like that too.
It was fine, until you finished the tour of District 2. The boy's face stared down at you, and you remembered how it looked covered in blood.
Please!
The crunch of bone.
You could barely get through the reading, crying halfway through before someone had to usher you to the side. Snow was angry; you could see it in his dark eyes but maybe he could find pity. You had been so kind, so good.
It didn't matter by the time he found you curled into the corner of my room you were covered in smeared make up and tears. You couldn't even take off the stupid pink dress they had given you. He stood there for a moment taking you in then he grabbed you by the hair yanking you up onto the bed. Then he reeled back and slapped you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side. "You were very bad today bluebell."
"I-I..."
Another slap the other way. "Don't stutter."
Your cheek was stinging, "I'm sorry." A pause, and then another hard slap stars split your vision. "I'm sorry Mr. President, sir." You closed your eyes waiting for more but then you heard the familiar noise of his pants unbuttoning and your body began to lay itself back like it had registered before you did. He only darkly chuckled as he pulled you back up and shoved you to your knees in front of him, "I know you didn't mean to break the rules. Right?” You nodded, “And why do I know that?”
"Because I'm your good girl, Mr. President, sir." You stared up at him with red cheeks and pouting lips.
He groaned, his hard length pressing against your mouth. You glanced up at him with furrowed brows not knowing how to do what he was asking. “Open your mouth,” You did. “Don’t bite. I'll do the rest." He pushed past your lips, taking ahold off your face and began rocking his hips into you, his cock sliding along your tongue. "Oh fuck," He shivered shoving himself deeper the tip of him touching the back of your throat. You swallowed the gag as he pulled out to slam back into you bring your throat more tears spilling out, spit running down your chin. You squeezed your eyes as he used your mouth for whatever he wanted as he thrusted his cock into your mouth viciously. "Swirl your tongue around it." He hissed and you obeyed running it along the shaft, around the head feeling him stutter his movements, but pick up speed. His hand was rooted in your scalp yanking your face up, pain bubbling up with each abusing stroke, but something else was there too, and you realized his skin didn't taste bad. "You like that? You like when I fuck your mouth?"
You mumbled out incoherently not even sure what your answer was.
He shoved your head back, neck craned against the mattress his hips pinning you as he blatantly fucked into your mouth. ”I wonder what pretty sounds you would make if I fucked you hmm?” His hand bobbed your head against him as you gripped his thighs to hold yourself up as saliva dripped across your chest. "I can't though...too many others want it."
Your eyes shot open just as his thrust turned sporadic and warm liquid shot down your throat. Your face was covered in fluids, covered in drool and cum, dribbling down your chin as he slowly removed himself. ”What?" Your throat was raw and torn.
"I was going to wait to tell you." He sighed tucking himself back in. "But you are very desirable as a Victor, and once you told me you were a virgin...well it made you a lot more desirable." He patted your tears and cum stained cheek, "But you have been so good to me despite this slip up, so I will try to pick someone you will like. Hmm?” You were too stunned to respond. He was selling you to people, selling you to the highest bidder because you had killed a boy. You weren’t even supposed to win everyone had let you know how the tribute from 10 was slated to win, but he got taken out while you were hiding, and they had lost money. Because your life was a bet for them.
"I want to go home." You cried softly his hand cradling your face.
He cocked his head to the side, "Oh bluebell. You can't leave me yet." He stood up and began to walk to the door, "I might just have to keep you."
He left you there on your knees. No he didn't quite taste bad, in fact, you thought maybe you enjoyed the pool of him on your tongue. You cried even harder.
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PART TWO here!
(if you care)
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goosita · 9 months
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first of all i love you. really. everything that you're writing is making my life so much better, so thank u <3 if that's okay for u, could you write something where reader is a single mom, she has a little girl and her daughter is very attached to billy? and it's the most sweetest thing ever cause billy loves her, calls her little princess (very sweet tooth 😭) one night, her daughter asks billy to read a storie for her to sleep and he does so and in the end, she says something like "i wish you were my dad" and it's just so cute and funny cause she gagged everyone, reader is like "babe!!!!" while billy is in shock but at the same time his heart is melting 🥺🥺 (sorry if this is too much, just write if u want!)
oh im. gonna cry and sob and piss everywhere this is the sweetest softest thing ive ever read yes oh my god
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billy would be so so sweet with your daughter, especially if she was around 4-6 years old. at first you were worried that a man like him wouldn’t want anything to do with a single mother, especially one as young as you. but he never asked you to explain, and never judged you for it. all he ever did was treat you like a queen, and your daughter like a princess.
and your little girl is just enamored with him. she follows after him like a little duckling, so much so that billy starts to call her “ducky”. it makes her giggle every single time, always makes billy smile all warm and fond. they get on like a house on fire, your man and your baby girl. billy teaches her things like how to ride a horse, how to tie all kinds of knots, how to rope a little goat even. your daughter tells you one evening, her little face very serious, that she thinks “billy knows everything, mama. everything!” you want to let her believe it for as long as possible.
on this particular day, all 3 of you had spent the day together. billy had showed up bright and early to take you for a picnic out in a meadow behind your house, a daylong excursion that lasted until the sun slowly set. it was late spring, cicadas beginning to sing in the tall grass. once it got dark outside, billy pulled out a jar and showed your daughter how to catch fireflies. once they had about 10 of them, they sat on the blankets with their heads ducked together to observe them, giving each one a unique name.
“let’s call this one tommy,” she says, pointing at a bug near the bottom.
“perfect name, ducky. how’d you get so good at this?”
your little girl giggles, shrugging and letting billy name the next one. it makes your heart so happy to see a man with so much patience and love for your daughter.
when you finally return to the house, it’s time to get your kid ready for bed. tired and pliant from her long day outside catching bugs and weaving flower crowns (that of course billy taught her how to do), she goes down without much of a fight. she does ask billy to stay and tell her a bedtime story, though, and he’s never been one to deny that sweet little face whatever she wants.
you half-listen as billy spins some wild tale about a princess who slay dragons herself, one who doesn’t need a prince to come and rescue her. she’s strong and brave and guess what? she looks just like your little girl, same hair color and little lilac colored dress. his story makes her smile, even as her sleepy eyes begin to blink more slowly. when he finishes, he leans down to kiss her forehead softly and tuck her blanket around her small little body.
“i wish you were my daddy,” she murmurs sleepily, rubbing her eye with one small fist. you see billy freeze and slowly look to you, unsure what to say.
“oh, baby—“ you start, taking a step forward. billy gently cuts you off, which you welcome, not sure what to tell her.
“you know, ducky, sometimes i wish that too,” he whisper conspiratorially. her eyes light up curiously.
“really?” she asks, looking up at him.
“mhm,” he says with a nod. “but i think this little thing we have going here is even more special. you know why?”
she waits for an answer, eyes full of curiosity and wonder at the man sitting on the edge of her bed.
“because i didn’t help to give you life, life gave you and me to each other. and that’s pretty special, don’t you think?”
your little girl smiles, nodding her head. you swallow hard, your eyes feeling a little misty at the way he loves your baby and she loves him. it’s so pure, so unconditional the way they’ve attached themselves to each other.
billy smiles at her and brushes her hair away from her face, giving her chubby cheek a soft caress.
“sweet dreams, baby girl.”
“goodnight billy,” she says with a little yawn, snuggling down into her pillow. billy blows out the oil lamp beside her bed, following you out of her bedroom and closing the door softly.
“i’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn—“ he’s cut off by you grabbing his face and pulling him down into a dizzying kiss. you smile against his mouth when he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss you back, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.
“thank you,” you whisper when you finally break away for air. “for loving both of us, for taking care of us.”
“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that. i’ll always be here to take care of my two best girls,” he says with a grin, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “and who knows? maybe one day soon you’ll let me put a ring on that pretty little finger and that little girl in there can call me whatever she wants.”
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Text
Postcards
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Summary: Tom Bennett is sweet on the Post Office girl, but only dares to approach it just as he's conscripted for war | Word Count: 7.2k~ (oops) | Warnings: ww2, mentions of death, smut, fingering
A/N: A very VERY Happy Birthday to @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day! ❤ And thank you so much to @theoneeyedprince for skimming over this 😘
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“Get ‘im a cuppa, would ya darlin’!”
Her grandfather’s low baritone seemed to rumble through the floorboards so much so it made her eardrums throb, and she shook her head as she descended the creaky staircase at the back of the store room, running a hand over the collar of her dress to keep it flat.
“Yes, Granda,” she sighed, filling the kettle and placing it on the lit stove. Gone were the days when she was young, afraid of the tiny flame that appeared when her grandfather struck a match to light the gas. He’d always laugh at her concerned expression, chuckling that no grandchild of his was going to be such a ‘scaredy-cat’.
He’d had her lighting matches on the stovetop since she was eleven years old. No exceptions. 
A harsh but fair upbringing, given that she was his only grandchild.
She brushed a wavy lock of hair from her face, her pumps clicking on the floorboards as she let the water boil and joined him at the front of the post office. She rolled her eyes when she saw him struggling with the sack of post, grunting and grumbling to himself as elderly men often do.
“Get off, granda, let me.”
“Cheeky beggar! Can do it on me own, ya pesky-”
“Granda.” 
He finally turned, perhaps recognising the same tone he’d heard in his wife and daughter in years gone, and knew not to argue. She saw that when her grandfather, turned while bent over and withered with his years, with a smattering of white on his chin and waved sparsely on the crown of his head, had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end almost chewed right through with the effort he’d used in trying to lift what he easily could have several years ago.
He raised an eyebrow, bringing the cigarette from his age-weathered lips and blowing the smoke out, “Go on then. Tea on?”
“Course, it is,” she sighed, bending to pull the sack of post from the floor and into the corner to be sorted later. “I’ll do that later, you go upstairs”.
“Bollocks, will I. I’m staying ‘ere.”
Her grandfather was stubborn, though it was something they accused each other of being regularly. A family trait, some would say.
The postman, clad in his dark uniform trudged through the front door, ringing the bell with it. His satchel was empty and his cheeks were pink like the wind had been at them.
“The usual route please, darlin’”.
She nodded. “Cuppa first?”
“Yes, ta, milk, one sugar-”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she smirked, “same as every day.”
As the postman settled into the familiar chair, reserved for him if anyone asked, her grandfather gave a low grumble, shifting his weight with the slow deliberation of age. He looked over at his granddaughter, the same stubborn glint in his eye that she mirrored back at him.
"You're not still jawing, are you?" he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray like he had done a thousand times before.
The kettle whistled, and she moved with ease, pouring the steaming water over the tea bags, the rich aroma filling the small, worn kitchen. She added the milk and sugar to the postman's cup, stirring it with a practised hand.
"Here you go," she said, placing the cup in front of him. "Warm yourself up."
"Bless you, lass," the postman replied, wrapping his hands around the mug as if to soak in its warmth.
The grandfather watched the scene with a softened expression before he straightened, a hint of urgency in his voice cutting through the usual routine. "Put the sign out, will you, love?"
With a tired sigh, she set her teaspoon down and retrieved the sign her grandfather had already sorted that morning, today’s headline written in white chalk across the blackboard surface. She didn't usually pay it much attention, but as she held the frame in her hands, her eyes were drawn to it. One word stood out like a beacon:
‘Britain Declares War on Germany’
“It’s official now,” her grandfather mused, having clocked her shocked, mildly terrified expression, his voice carrying an air of aged wisdom. He had seen another war before this one after all, even then, he had been too old to actually fight in it.
Her breath caught for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "Today?"
"Aye, today," he confirmed, as if it made any difference, a solemn nod accompanying his words. "The world’s about to change."
She stepped outside, the gravel crunching under her feet as she made her way to the front of the shop. With a steady hand, she hung the sign where it would be seen by all who passed by. She stepped back as if to make sure the words were true and not a trick of the eye, and couldn't help but feel the gravity of the situation settling in. The world was indeed about to change, and their quiet corner of it would not be spared.
As she stood there, contemplating the significance of the headline, she heard the familiar sound of a bicycle approaching. Douglas pulled up, half-dismounting with a hurried air.
“Y’alright, Douglas?” she greeted him, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
Douglas’s eyes flicked to the sign, and he visibly flinched. A deep furrow appeared on his brow, and his jaw tightened, frustration evident in his tense posture.
“Not seen my boy, Tom, have ya?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
“Fortunately not. Why, is he in trouble?”
Douglas let out a frustrated sigh. “Is he. If you see him, send him back home.”
She nodded, then glanced back at the sign, understanding the unspoken pain in Douglas’s reaction. “I will, Douglas. Take care.”
Douglas gave a curt nod, his eyes lingering on the sign for a moment longer before he mounted his bike again. He gave her a brief, strained smile, the weight of his past experiences clear in his eyes, and pedalled away. She watched him go, feeling the heavy burden of the news. He and Tom were alike in many ways, stubborn mostly though, and set in their ways once their mind was made up. But Douglas was gentler since the first war had changed him, and Tom was never the same after his mother. Turning back to the house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their small world, like so many others, was on the brink of something monumental. Something far beyond their understanding.
The week passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. She worked diligently, covering the post office as her grandfather went off to the social club, seeking the comfort of familiar faces and shared memories. The steady stream of customers brought a sense of normalcy, yet the weight of the headline hung over her like a shadow, and many others as well.
Each day felt heavier than the last, as the reality of the declaration of war settled in. Conversations with customers often turned to the uncertain future, and the usual gossip was replaced with talk of enlistment and preparations.
As the afternoon sun began to wane one gloomy day, the door to the post office swung open with the chime of the bell. She looked up from the counter, her heart skipping a beat as Tom Bennett walked in. His usual carefree expression was absent, replaced by a seriousness she’d rarely seen before now.
She smiled. “Three guesses who you're skulking away from.”
Tom approached the counter, a faint smirk rose at the corners of his mouth, and his serious depression faltered somewhat. “Box of matches, please.”
She rang him up, the familiar clink of the register grounding her amidst the day's uncertainties. Even from here, behind the counter, she caught the faint scent of cigarettes on his weathered coat, for some reason making her head feel airy. As she handed him the matches, she couldn't help but broach the topic. 
“Heard you signed up,” she said, her voice gentle but curious. “What made you do that?”
Tom’s face hardened slightly. She knew immediately why but dare not say. “Don't carry on, had enough of this off Dad.”
“Not Lois?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Tom let out a short, humourless laugh. “Nah. She can’t wait to see me gone.”
“How will she cope?” she smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.
Tom shrugged, pocketing the matches. “She’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be alright, both of ‘em will.”
Granda trudged past the doorway leading to the back room, leaving a large heaved sigh with a cigarette between his weathered lips. Tom nodded up at him, “y’alright, Granda? Keeping steady?”
She couldn't help but smile as she glanced back. Nobody called him by his real name, only ever what she had always nicknamed him, from a time where she was unable to say ‘grandad’. At first it embarrassed her, but now to hear everyone else call him Granda, well, it was endearing.
Her grandfather simply glared with hooded eyes, blowing smoke between his lips and permeating the air with musk, “bugger off, ya bone idle twat-”
He was still muttering things as he walked off and she gave Tom a face that showed she was trying her hardest to remain stoic.
“Your own fault really. Should know better.”
Tom chuckled, “Yeah, I should.”
From the first day she stepped behind the counter, Tom had made it his mission to tease and charm her, testing the waters with playful remarks and lingering glances. He would lean in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just to watch her cheeks flush a delicate pink. It was a game they played, a dance of words and looks that neither was quite brave enough to escalate.
She found herself looking forward to his visits, the highlight of her day amidst the routine tasks of sorting mail and ringing up customers. Tom seemed to delight in the effect he had on her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in close. “You’re going to spoil me with all this attention,” he’d say, and she’d laugh, trying to hide how much she enjoyed their playful but enigmatic banter.
Now, as Tom stood before her, the weight of his decision to sign up for the war added a new layer to their unspoken bond. The cheeky glint in his eyes was tempered by a newfound seriousness, and she felt the fragile line between them tighten and shift.
As she handed him the change, their fingers brushed, and she felt a familiar warmth rise to her cheeks. “You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “you’re going to make a right mess of things if you keep winding everyone up.”
Tom leaned on the counter, his smirk widening. “Oh, you like it when I wind you up. Admit it.”
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Big word for a post office clerk-ow!” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief, rubbing his shoulder in faux offence when she smacked him lightly. If she were honest with herself, it was just an excuse to touch him.
“One of these days, your cheek will get you into real trouble,” she warned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.
Tom leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll be the one to give me a proper telling off.”
She rolled her eyes, busying herself with doing a recount of the till, mostly so that she could have something to do with her hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Impossible to resist?” he quipped, his grin widening.
“Impossible to deal with,” she corrected, though her cheeks flushed with a hint of colour.
Tom watched her for a moment, his smile softening, blue eyes flickering to the pile of post she still had to sort. “Got anything for me? I'll take it back on my way home.”
She hummed a laugh, shaking her head as she sorted through.. She always sorted the Bennett Household’s post separately, so she’d be prepared for another one of Tom’s spontaneous visits. “To face the wrath of Douglas?”
He scoffed, leaning back against the counter with a mock look of horror. “Don't make me laugh. I can handle my old man.”
“Brave words, Mr. Bennett,” she teased, handing him a small stack of letters. “But I’m not sure anyone can handle Douglas when he’s in a mood.”
Tom took the letters, their fingers brushing for a brief moment. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a wink. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”
She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. “I believe it. Just don’t go getting yourself into too much trouble, alright?”
Tom’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “No promises. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.”
As he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’ll come back before I ship out. Wouldn’t want to miss another chance to see you blushing for me.”
With that, he straightened and headed for the door, leaving her with a smile and a heart a little lighter despite the day’s heavy news. She watched him go, the weight of their unspoken connection lingering in the air. In her heart she knew she was afraid of truly letting him go, at the prospect of not seeing him walk through those doors every other day. Her heart felt like lead, deep in her chest, wondering if it was already too late, with war reaching their horizons, to admit how she really felt about the man who had just signed up to fight in it.
The days continued to pass in a blur of activity and mounting tension. The declaration of war had cast a long shadow over their small town, and everyone was feeling its effects. Life carried on, but the underlying anxiety was palpable.
A week later, Tom walked into the post office, a different kind of seriousness in his eyes. He held an official-looking envelope in his hand, and she knew immediately what it was.
“Got my papers,” he said, handing her a letter to post. “I’m shipping out in a few days.”
She felt a lump form in her throat but forced a smile. Don’t cry. “So soon?”
He nodded, looking around the familiar space of the post office.
“There’s a…leaving do at the Cross Keys, if you want to come and see me off with the others.”
And why on earth would she have said ‘no’. 
A small gathering was held at the local pub to send off the men who had conscripted to do their bit. It was a tradition of sorts, a way for the community to come together and show their support. Friends and family gathered, raising their glasses to wish him well and offer their prayers for his safe return. It was all bright faces, pink cheeked from ale, clinking glasses and all. And all she could do was watch from her seat. Watch him. As if she wanted to print the very image and soul of him into her mind on the off chance he might not return to her, or if he already had a sweetheart to write to, and wouldn't spare a second glance to her.
The pub was filled with laughter and conversation, but she could see the sadness in everyone’s eyes. As the evening wore on, people began to drift away, leaving behind a quieter, more intimate group.
Tom found her sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink. He slid into the seat next to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Mind if I join the prettiest girl in the room?”
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. Tom looked around, then back at her. He was antsy, she could feel his nervous energy a mile away. He was probably annoyed as well. Douglas hadn’t come to the pub that night, and there was always something in Tom that craved his approval. “Got anything you want to say to me before I go, or are you just going to miss me in silence?”
She looked down into her lap, tracing her thumb over the rim of her glass, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say without sounding like a fool, Tom.”
“Then be a fool. I won’t mind.”
Her chest was all tight with anxiety when she finally had the courage to form the reply, looking up into his blue eyes, “this place just won’t be the same without you.”
She’d always seen Tom a certain way. Sure. Cock of the walk. Ever since his own mother died he’d almost put on this thick outer layer that was impenetrable. But here, sat with half a beer left in his glass, tapping his fingers against it nervously, his eyes gave way to something more vulnerable. They both know he was off to go and do something important, that he needed to feel valuable in some way, and this was his way of proving it. But his expression showed that he was also a young man, like so many others, who was afraid. 
“I won’t miss much about his place.”
Her heart sank a fraction, deep, forming a pit in her stomach. And it seemed Tom sensed it, as he twisted his body to face her, nudging her arm with his elbow to grab her attention again.
 “But I will miss you. Especially you.”
She looked up, meeting his gaze. The pub was nearly empty now, the noise reduced to a low murmur, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her chair, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt in a gesture of uncertainty about herself. “Tom, I–”
His lips pressed to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a moment they had both imagined countless times, but reality was far sweeter and more poignant.
When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “About time we stopped dancing around it, isn’t it?”
She could laugh. Cry even. 
Tom sensed her surprise and something that lingered deeper, but his bravado didn’t allow him to approach it, but it was enough that his thumb brushed a wayward hair from her face. “Had to get that in before I left. Didn’t want to regret missing my chance.”
She let out a relieved, breathy laugh. One that expelled all the tension from her body for a moment. Her eyes never quite left him, as if in wonder. And she was hit with the endless thought that she did not want this moment to end, she didn’t want him to leave. But knew she could never ask that of him.
“Promise me you’ll write,” she said instead.
A classically-Tom Bennett smirk rose to his face. He always did that when he saw the colour rise to her face. “I might.”
They both laughed lightly, with some uncertainty, when she swatted his shoulder. That attitude would get him in trouble, if not with her.
“How about I do you one better,” he started, “I’ll come back, and we’ll have our time.”
She knew then she could ask no more of him. She felt a mixture of hope and fear, knowing how much she was already relying on his return, how much she already craved it. But in response to his weighty promise, she nodded softly, her eyes feeling heavy with tears she did well to keep back.
It almost felt cruel, to have this moment the day before he would leave her for the seas. There had been no time…
Tom’s cheeky grin returned, albeit with a touch of tenderness. “Good. Now, let’s get you home before I change my mind and decide to stay here with you.”
She wished he would. 
It was only when she was at her doorstep, watching him walk away, the darkness gradually enveloping him, that she finally took a deep breath, clutching the memory of his kiss and the promise of his return close to her heart.
The days following Tom’s departure were filled with a bittersweet mixture of hope and anxiety. She busied herself at the post office, trying to keep her mind off the worry gnawing at her. The routine tasks that once felt mundane now served as a distraction from the ever-present uncertainty.
On the morning Tom was scheduled to ship out, she was on shift, sorting through the morning post with a heavy heart. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the docks to see him off, knowing it would be too much to bear. Instead, she stayed at the post office, her mind wandering to thoughts of him, imagining his cheeky grin and the promise in his eyes.
After a fortnight, she was giddy with joy when she was sorting the post and saw her name amongst the pile, she nearly gave herself a papercut in her fervent attempts to open the letter, wanting to see his words, in his hand, it would give her happiness beyond belief.
Little Miss Postie, You wouldn't believe the state of things here. It's a lot different from our quiet little town. The lads are a good bunch, though, mostly, and they’ve already learned to put up with my jokes. They’ve got no choice, really. It’s either that or Hitler and I wouldn’t like those odds. I miss seeing your face every day, the way you blush when I tease you. You remember that night at the pub? I bet you do. I wasn’t joking about regretting not kissing you sooner. Let’s just say I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams since then. Don’t worry, I’m keeping my head down and staying out of trouble. Mostly. But it’s hard not to think about you when I’m supposed to be focusing on training. The open sea allows a man to think a bit too much, and every time I see the stars at night, I think of you. And, well, there’s not much else to do out here except think… and maybe imagine a few things I shouldn’t put in a letter. Write me back soon. Tell me everything. And don’t leave out the parts that make you blush. Yours, Tom
She sat at the counter, Tom’s latest letter in hand, a smile tugging at her lips as she read his words again. The warmth of his cheeky tone and the sincerity of his affection made her heart flutter. She knew she had to reply, but she wanted to make it special.
Rising from her seat, she walked over to the display of postcards near the entrance of the post office. The assortment included scenic views, cheerful illustrations, and wartime propaganda. Her fingers brushed over each one until she found a postcard that seemed perfect—a World War II specific postcard featuring a charming drawing of a sailor in uniform, waving from a ship, with the words “Keep Smiling and Carry On” printed in bold letters.
She took the postcard back to the counter and carefully penned her reply, choosing her words with care and affection. When she finished, she read it over, her cheeks warming at the bolder parts. With a satisfied smile, she addressed the postcard and prepared to send it off.
Dear Tom, I’m glad to hear you’re getting along with the lads and keeping them entertained. The town isn’t the same without you, and I miss your cheeky grin and those comments that always get under my skin—in the best way, of course. I hope you continue to write to your father and Lois, they miss you greatly. I’ve been thinking about that night at the pub too. More often than I should admit. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a fool. Granda thinks I’ve gone mad. He’s just a few pennies short of putting me away. Since you were so forward in your letter, I suppose I can be a little brave too. I’ve had a few dreams myself, some of them involving a certain navy man and that uniform you hate. I’m looking forward to seeing you out of it as much as in it. Stay safe, Tom. I can’t wait for your next letter. Yours, ‘Little Miss Postie’
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Little Miss Postie, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I couldn’t stop smiling when I read your letter. And blushing? Don’t worry, I’ve been doing plenty of that myself. Don’t tell anyone though or I’ll tell everyone you’re lying. I can’t wait to get back and see if those dreams of yours are as good as mine. Maybe we’ll have to find out together. And as for that uniform, well, I’ll make sure to wear it just for you. But you might have to help me out of it later. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Training is tough, and they’re keeping us on our toes, but thoughts of you keep me going. The lads are starting to wonder why I’ve got this goofy grin on my face all the time. I’ve been telling them about you—well, only the parts that won’t make them too jealous. They all say hello, by the way. Take care of yourself, love. And keep those letters coming. They’re the best part of my day. Yours, Tom
Her reply was affectionate, written with that telltale blush to her cheeks that Tom would have made fun of her for. Every scratch of the pen on paper, telling him that him blushing at her letter would be their little secret, and that he shouldn’t give the lads too high of expectations of her, made her heart feel as light as air. And as she signed off the letter, urging him to come back to her, she would not let that little whisper of uncertainty grow at the back of her mind. And as she turned over the postcard, appreciating the watercolour design on the front, she thought of his face when, and how she imagined it would light up when he received it. Just as hers does.
She waited for a response. But none came.
She found herself anxious, restless. Had she said something wrong? Gone too far? Scared him off with her incessant affections and flirtations? Surely not, she thought. But the lack of any real response had tensions rising in her gut, and the seed of doubt had long been planted.
As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, she checked the post every morning with a mix of anticipation and dread. Each time the mail arrived, she sifted through the letters, hoping to find one from Tom. But there was nothing. No letter, no word. Her heart sank a little more with each passing day.
Her grandfather and the regular customers noticed the change in her. She became quieter, more introspective, holding onto the hope that Tom would keep his promise and return. The thought of his words, “I’ll be back, and we’ll have our time,” became her lifeline, the thing that kept her going through the long, uncertain months.
Sometimes, she'd allow herself a trip to the house Tom used to inhabit, remembering the times she'd pass by on her way to the post office and spot him leaning against the doorway, smoke blowing from between his curled lips, amused to see the way she was watching him. 
She'd hand Lois the post, come in for a cuppa, sometimes Douglas would say a quick hello as he was passing through the kitchen. But whenever she saw him, she was reminded very much of Tom, thousands of miles away from her, and the way his eyes crinkled like Douglas’ did when he smiled.
Every morning, she performed her duties with a determined smile, greeting the postman with a hopeful glance, on the off chance that some letter had accidentally ended up at Douglas’ home, only to be met with a sympathetic shake of the head. She would take a deep breath, steel herself, and continue with her day, refusing to let despair take hold. If she ever let it stick, it would swallow her whole.
It was funny how life had a way of testing people in their worst times.
Granda had always been stubborn. So much so that even when she told him she would put out the sign in a moment, he was too impatient. She only found him later, collapsed alongside the sign for that day's news. But no news seemed as important to her as that very minute, knelt beside her dying grandfather and shouting at passerbys for help.
If her little town was good for anything, it was community. Her grandfather left enough to cover the costs for the funeral, but all who remained put in as much as they could so that they could give the very beating heart of their slice of peace a good sendoff. Her grandfather would have hated it, everyone snivelling and crying over him. But it took the edge off her grief to see that he had touched the hearts of so many, despite his grumpy attitude.
At least, she thought, she wouldn't have to let go of the post office and go work in a factory. This small slice of peace was all she had left of her grandfather. And she counted her blessings that he had left her a good amount in his will, and what remained of his savings.
She only hoped that this brief didn't come in pairs. And she couldn't help but think of Tom now she was truly alone, running the post office by herself, her loneliness only exacerbated by the fact she only had herself to make a brew for in the morning now. She has the most vivid nightmares about the day someone would come and break the news that he wouldn't come back.
Then, one crisp morning, as she stood behind the counter, sorting the latest batch of letters, the door to the post office swung open with a familiar chime. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as Tom Bennett stepped inside, dressed in his navy uniform, looking weary but very much alive.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of all the months of worry and hope melted away as he crossed the room, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face.
“I told you I’d come back,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same mix of cheekiness and sincerity that she had missed so dearly.
For a moment, she stood frozen, unable to believe her eyes. Then, in a rush of emotion, she ran around the counter and threw herself into his arms. As she hugged him tightly, the dam of her emotions broke and she began to sob uncontrollably. He smelled of cigarettes and the sea, a mix of salt and smoke that was uniquely him. The scent brought a rush of memories and emotions, grounding her in the reality of his presence. His uniform carried the faint tang of saltwater, a reminder of the long months he had spent away from her, battling the elements and the enemy.
Tom hugged her back, a bit confused by the intensity of her reaction. “Hey now, what’s all this? I’m back, aren’t I? In one piece and everything.”
She laughed through her tears, clutching him even tighter. “You look terrible in that uniform,” she said, her voice shaky but filled with affection.
Tom chuckled, a familiar warm feeling pooling in her gut, rubbing her back soothingly. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t join the navy for the fashion. Besides, I was hoping you’d be so happy to see me that you wouldn’t notice.”
She wiped her cheek, feeling like air was finally making its way into her lungs. “Y-You didn’t write me back. I thought I'd lost you too.”
“I’m sorry, love. I never meant to leave you in the dark. It was just complicated out there, I–”, Tom furrowed his brows, his head cocking down at her slightly. “Too? I—”
He only had to look around. It was never usually this quiet. And she saw the realisation dawn across his war-hardened face when he spotted the framed picture of Granda on the counter.
“Oh, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “When?”
“A few months ago,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Stroke. The tobacco must have caught up with him.”
Tom’s expression softened, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, resting his cheek on her head, “you're more a soldier, doing all this on your own.”
She held onto him, his presence like a balm for her aching heart, growing stronger every day around the pit that was grief. “I didn't feel very strong.”
Tom didn't reply. He hadn't felt very strong himself either. And she knew from the way his large hand rubbed her back to comfort her, that there was more to his easy-going facade than he wanted to let on. And he knew for her equally, that the months were tough on her own, and that she was still healing.
“Missed you so much,” she confessed, pulling away slightly to look up at his half-worried expression, “it felt like I was losing both of you at the same time.”
Tom sighed, a light, almost pretty sound from his lips, his gaze drifting down slightly to her lips, as if he were just remembering all the details he didn't want to admit he'd forgotten all those months at sea.
“Don't cry.” His thumb lingered, swiping away a tear from her under eye, before he lightened the atmosphere with his smile, “I'd prefer to see you blush again. Suits you better.”
She couldn't help a smile breaking across her face, and the warmth that crept up her neck made her feel like a schoolgirl.
Tom winked. “There it is.”
Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, as if testing the waters. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his uniform as she kissed him back, the warmth of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine.
She pulled back slightly, a playful protest on her lips. “Tom, we’re still open…”
He gave her a devilish smile, turning around to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and locking it with a swift motion. “Not anymore, we’re not.”
He wasted no time, pulling her back into his arms, his lips growing more insistent and passionate. His hands roamed her back, finding the familiar curves and contours he had missed so much, but had no time to explore before he’d left. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire.
She felt her own longing mirror his, her body responding eagerly to his touch. “Show me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.
Tom’s grin turned wicked as he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands exploring with newfound urgency. “I've been dreaming about this,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “Every fucking night.”
She laughed softly, feeling a delightful mix of anticipation and excitement. “Tom Bennett, you are impossible.”
He gave no reply, his fingers already working on the buttons of her blouse. His movements were deft, practised, as if he had imagined this moment a thousand times over. She gasped as his hands brushed her skin, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her body. 
His lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as he pulled her blouse free, letting it fall to the floor. “Yeah, but I knew you’d come around,” he said with a cheeky grin, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer.
Their kisses grew hungrier, their bodies pressing together with an urgency that had been building for months. She reached for the buttons on his uniform, her fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as she worked to free him from the fabric. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled her into his arms again, his hands caressing her bare skin and breasts through her brassiere, sending waves of heat through her.
She sighed, her head falling back as his lips trailed down her neck, his kisses leaving a path of fire in their wake. “Tom,” she breathed, her hands clutching at him, needing more.
“I know, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “I know.”
He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the small sofa in the back of the post office where she sometimes took breaks. Gently, he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. Their movements became a dance of passion and longing, each touch, each kiss, a testament to the months they had been apart. Tom’s hands explored her with a reverence that made her feel cherished, loved.
As if by muscle memory from those dreams he would write about, his knee slid between her thighs as his hands roughly bunched up her skirt to her hips, two fingers tucking between them to tease her bud through her knickers.
“Tom,” she gasped, her body arching against his.
“Shh,” he soothed, his lips capturing hers once more. “I’ve got you.”
She was enraptured by the way he nipped at her lips, that she only realised he had pulled the gusset of her underwear aside when he gently, but insistently, pushed two fingers inside her, crooking upwards and finding that rough, sweet spot with unyielding precision.
He swallowed every sound she made, every now and then a grunt of approval slipping past his own lips as he stretched her open on his fingers, his pace teasing. Her fingernails left crescent moon shaped welts in his now bare shoulders, the muscles tensing beneath them.
Tom hummed against her lips, pleased with himself. “Not so shy now, are you?”
His teeth slid across her neck, no doubt marks left behind, but she couldn't even focus on that with the way he was insistent on teasing that wild spot inside her that made her body feel like white, fluttery flames.
“I've missed your reactions…especially this one.”
His thumb joined in his ministrations, applying gentle but firm pressure to her bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers plunging in and out of her wet heat. And if her face hadn't been buried in his shoulder, she would have cried out, embarrassed at the sounds she and her body was making. Tom however, seemed to revel in it, his hand soaked with her arousal as she teetered on the edge.
The tightness in her gut spiralled as she clutched him tighter, her body aching pleasantly with the force of her peak rushing through her, all while Tom grinned and didn't falter, as if to watch her linger on that border of pain and pleasure.
Before she had even fully come down, his fingers were gone and she felt she was able to fully breathe again. Her flushed expression snapped open to him as he pulled her thighs towards him, on the sofa, and watched as he righted himself and slid his belt through the loops of his trousers, a sound that made her belly flutter.
He raised his eyebrows, pulling his trousers low enough to free himself and leaned over her again. “Missed me that much?”
She laughed, and hid her face, the dull ache still thrumming through her body ignited again as the head of is cock parted her folds and nudged her bud. “Tom-”
Warmth crept to her face again when his hand turned her face towards him again, his pupils near eclipsing the blue with want as he sheathed himself within her, holding her there to watch her expression as her walls stretched to accommodate him.
In any other scenario, she would want to slap that self-impressed look off his face, but not now, not when it felt this good.
His eyebrows barely furrowed, struggling to keep his composure. “Christ, you're so fucking tight—”
His words shot straight to her core, clenching around him and eyes slipping shut as he began a tortuous pace, like he hadn't gotten to this part in his dreams before. His arms wrapped around her like choking ivy, pushing her body to his with every needy thrust, his breath hot against her neck and the metal of his identification tag cold against her chest.
For a few brief moments, the world outside the post office ceased to exist. There were only the two of them, reconnecting in a way that was both familiar and new. Tom's cheeky comments and playful touches had yielded to blend seamlessly with his genuine affection, creating a moment that was perfect in all its imperfections.
She can feel his hips growing tired the closer he gets, and if she is being truthful, the cooling sensation of the buckle of his belt and the friction it gives her is only flinging her to the edge right alongside him. And when he breathes her name all shaky and low like that, she can't help herself, and she lets go again with a choked cry, the second sneaking up on her so quickly it feels like she never really recovered from the first.
With a stuttered groan, mirrored by his own hips, he crushes her in his arms and pushes forward as hard as he can, burying himself as deep as he's able as he comes hard nestled in her silky walls. She held him on top of her, his weight a comforting reminder that he was real, that he was here. Her fingers gently traced the contours of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath.
Her heart was still racing, but not just from their shared passion. It was the sheer relief, the overwhelming sense of having him back in her arms after so long. Every night of worry, every day of longing, all melted away in this moment.
She buried her face in his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of him, mixed with the faint hint of the sea. Tears of relief welled up in her eyes, but this time they were tears of joy, of profound gratitude. And she wanted to say so much, but whenever she tried, her throat closed up, not wanting to interrupt this quiet, loving slice of peace in her arms. For the first time in months, she felt whole again.
When he finally pulls back, breathless and flushed, Tom rests his forehead against hers, his eyes filled with love and mischief, her his voice low and intimate. He means to say so much more. The depth of his feelings, the fears, and the nights he had spent longing for her, it all threatened to spill out, leaving him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. She saw it, though, in the way his eyes darkened with emotion, the unspoken words lingering just beneath the surface.
“I think we might need to close early more often.”
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