#discarded scripts

[thunderbone]

Jurassic Park III was released on July 18, 2001. Even though it received mostly negative reviews from critics and was a watershed for many fans, it was a moderate success, giving a green light to the production of a fourth film. At the time when Jurassic Park IV was being developed, the producers realized the lack of interest from fans for new films, because in the first 3 films, the story was always the same.

To give you an idea, the story of the 3 films were always about isolated incidents on some island inhabited by dinosaurs, where the protagonists tried to survive without the slightest chance of defending themselves from the dinosaurs, in which the characters just ran away and hid from them. In short, it only released the famous and feared "more of the same" in theaters, much to the chagrin of fans.

Due to this problem, the producers realized that the franchise needed to reinvent itself and that the new film needed to bring some new features. Either that or a reboot for the franchise, and apparently the producers opted for the first option. In November 2002, William Monahan was hired to write the first script for the fourth film, where the script had been completed in 2003.

To this day, not much is known about this script and William Monahan's version of Jurassic Park IV, what is known is a leaked synopsis and rumors behind this script. According to the synopsis, the story was supposed to be set 12 years after the events of the first film in the franchise, in which dinosaurs became urban legends around the world.

Yes, all the events of the previous films are now considered legends by many people, where people claim that dinosaurs never came back to life (Something similar with the story of the second film in the franchise, where Ian Malcolm and the other characters from the first film were called crazy since no one believed them and the supposed dinosaur park that gone wrong).

However, small unidentified lizard-like creatures appear on the mainland of Costa Rica, wreaking havoc everywhere. A team of experts led by Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm went to investigate the alleged sightings of these unknown animals on an island in Costa Risca and try to find out what is going on.

Later, the team of experts would discover that dinosaurs are migrating to the continent and are reproducing at an alarming rate all over the world, threatening the lives of many people around the world. Now the team is tasked with finding a way to curb the dinosaurs' spread and prevent an ecological disaster.

The actors who were confirmed to return were Sam Neill (Alan Grant), Jeff Goldblum (Ian Malcolm) and Richard Attenborough (John Hammond). There was the possibility that actress Laura Dern would return to play Ellie Sattler, who would probably be one of the protagonists of the film (unlike JP3, where she only had a cameo in the film).

According to rumors at the time, there was the possibility of the script implementing DX in the plot, implying that JP4 would be the last film in the franchise. For those who don't know, in the second book written by Michael Crichton, it is revealed that InGen fed the dinosaurs with sheep infected with a prion disease, which made the life of the dinosaurs much shorter than normal. According to Ian Malcolm, one of the protagonists of the novel, this will lead to the extinction of the island's dinosaurs.

If these rumors are true, it's unclear how DX would be implemented in the story. Would the protagonists create a virus to try to eliminate the dinosaur population on the planet? Or would dinosaurs be infected by the DX virus and infect the entire world population, increasing the possibility of humanity becoming extinct?

In addition, other rumors said that there was also the possibility of the film having a new dinosaur to be the villain of the story, where many fans believed that this dinosaur would be the Giganotosaurus, but until today, nobody knows about it. It is a pity that until today not much is known about this script, since it is a mystery in the franchise. What is also known is that actors Sam Neill and Jeff Goldblum read the script and liked it a lot.

Including, Sam Neill said that this was the best story he has ever seen in the franchise. Furthermore, to further reinforce the alleged leak of that synopsis, it was confirmed at that time that the script's story was no longer set in the jungle or even on one of the islands. This also only confirms what I said: The franchise needed to reinvent itself to get fans interested in the franchise again, as it only released more of the same in theaters.

The producers and others who were involved in the project were very excited about the film and believed that this film would expand the mythology of the franchise. Stan Winston's studio was going to participate in the film, and Winston wanted the practical effects to be more advanced than in previous films, an example of this was creating Velociraptor animatronics with internal motors providing better control and movement. Winston was also interested in adapting several scenes from the two Michael Crichton books.

Spielberg and the entire team were confident in Monahan's script. According to insiders at the time, the film would release in the winter of 2005 in the USA, probably in November or December of that year. Unfortunately, in the same year that the script had been completed, William Monahan abandoned the project for the fourth film, as he went to work on the film Kingdom of Heaven, by Ridley Scott.

And oddly enough, this film ended up winning an Oscar for best screenplay, that is, William Monahan was a badass guy and ideal to save the franchise (Or not, because just because such a film won an Oscar does not mean that the film in yes it's really good and I've seen bad movies win an Oscar, but ok). After the first screenwriter left the project, the producers had to bring in another screenwriter to come up with a new script for the movie and that's how it works, folks.

It was from there that Steven Spielberg (Or Uncle Spielberg for the intimate), director of the first two films of the franchise, had a terribly crazy idea of militarized dinosaurs and being used as weapons, but his version of the idea was much more fanciful. And what's worse is that he thought the kids would love this idea, holy shit!

To make matters worse, in April 2003, Spielberg and the other producers were looking for screenwriters to write a new script that was based on Uncle Spielberg's "brilliant" idea, where they later called infamous screenwriter John Sayles to create the new script for the movie. For those who don't know, John Sayles was the screenwriter of the films Piranha (1978) and The Howling (1981), that is, he specializes in creating horror B films. And that's how that terrible script proposed for the fourth film came about of the franchise, written by John Sayles.

I even made five fanarts of this script, where I imagined what Jurassic Park IV would be like if John Sayles' script had been approved at the time it was written. I posted all the fanarts from this script on Deviantart if you want to check it out later, but soon I will post these fanarts here on Tumblr. Anyway, it's a shame that William Monahan left the project at that time, as his script looked very promising. If he hadn't abandoned the project, surely the Jurassic World trilogy would never have existed and the real JP4 would have been released 17 years ago.

Also, surely Monahan's JP4 would be infinitely better than Jurassic World: Dominion, which was colossal shit! Seriously, I really hate that stinky garbage they call a movie! That monstrosity was a huge disappointment not only to me, but also to most fans of the franchise. How could they waste so many opportunities to explore amazing ideas and concepts just to explore the ridiculous idea of mutated grasshoppers?! One of the things I really wanted to see in Dominion is precisely the idea of dinosaurs on the continent.

But instead of the film exploring this concept and the fact that dinosaurs are indeed a threat to our planet's ecosystem, the asshole director simply chose to explore the stupid idea of mutated insects being a threat to the planet. And he still had the audacity to insist on the illusion that dinosaurs and humans can coexist in complete harmony, when this would be impossible. Do you really think that dinosaurs were never a threat and that we humans can coexist with them? Of course not!

Dinosaurs are indeed a threat to us, because they are an invasive species, just like the invasion of Asian giant hornets in some countries. In case you didn't know, if a living being is taken from its natural habitat and is introduced in a place where it never originated, it can end up with the flora, fauna and entire ecosystem of that place it invaded.

As in the movie dinosaurs invaded the continent, can you imagine the consequences of this? There would probably be an ecological disaster and we would all be screwed! The movie would be more interesting if it explored this, because the idea of dinosaurs on the continent is much more interesting than the shitty idea of locusts being a threat to humans, but unfortunately it was wasted. It is for these and other reasons that this film and director Colin Trevorrow earned my total dislike.

But anyway, leaving my disappointment aside, last week I had the idea of making a fanart of the script written by Monahan and on March 21 of this year I finally managed to finish the fanart.

When I drew the characters, I had to choose the characters that were featured in the script and those characters are (L to R): Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler (Center) and Alan Grant. To draw them, I tried to base myself on the appearance of the actors Jeff Goldblum, Laura Dern and Sam Neill, but apparently it didn't work out very well, lol.

When I went to draw Ian Malcolm, I tried to base myself on Jeff Goldblum from The Lost World: Jurassic Park, but in his case, it really didn't work out very well, because my version of the character doesn't look like the actor at all. A total FAIL!

Ellie Sattler was the same thing, I tried to base myself on Laura Dern from Jurassic World: Dominion, but unlike Ian and Alan, she at least resembles the actress.

As for Alan Grant, I tried to base myself on Sam Neill numerous times, but it never worked. As I didn't want to make the same mistake when I drew Ian, I had the idea of being inspired by a fanart of the actor, so I was inspired by a fanart made by DanaNicolesDrawings, a talented artist here on Tumblr.

So all the credit for Alan's design goes to her and if you want to know her work, click here: https://dananicolesdrawings.tumblr.com/

The dinosaurs that are in my fanart are (From left to right on the top row): Giganotosaurus, Velociraptor (Center), T. Rex, Brachiosaurus and Parasaurolophus. To draw them, I based them on how they looked in the movies. As for Giganotosaurus, I had based myself on its appearance from the game Dino Crisis 2. To draw the logo, I reused the logo from my fanarts of Sayles' script, but I made some changes for the logo to be different, such as the number four in Roman numerals, where here the number is literally equal to the letters of the logo, while the number four of the other logo is similar to the number three of JP3.

Well, I hope you liked the fanart I made of this first alternate version of Jurassic Park IV before it became Jurassic World.

[thunderbone]

This is definitely one of the best drawings I received. Thank you very much ❤️ It's great to see more fanart of one of the hybrid dinosaurs from the alternate version of Jurassic Park 4 before it became Jurassic World ^^

Follow her, because her arts are wonderful! Take advantage of her offering free art :D

Bunch of Requests

Here we have a few requests i did for hal on discord, second one for @thunderbone ,third one also hal and last one for @sp1derc1der

My requests are still open if you should be interested!

Most of them will probably be coloured sketch headshots:)

[deiaiko]

#21 - Wall

Masterlist

Previous

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Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Hunter (Corporate AU)

- one of Rex's personal bodyguards

- chronically lonely

- slightly more socially adjusted but still treated like shit

(more lore under the cut, cw for themes of drug use/addiction)

- Hunter's childhood years/teens are mostly unchanged here, but instead of bouncing directly to organized crime after gang #3, he ends up alone for some time

- no friends, plenty of enemies, and in a really bad mental place, Hunter started taking one-off jobs as a drug mule to stay afloat. One job resulted in him getting paid with the product he was running, and at that point he was close enough to rock bottom that he said what the hell

- this started a destructive eleven-month cycle of him saying "never again", fighting with himself about it, and then having a shit day and cracking. The periods of self-argument got shorter and shorter with each time he caved

- he met Rex outside a bar purely coincidentally. They wound up having a one-night-stand (Hunter just wanted to sleep somewhere warm)

- later, Rex found him passed out in an alley and called an ambulance for him. In the hospital, he offered to pay the bill if Hunter came to work for him

- he made him get clean before officially taking the job (one of the only decent things he's done). Since then, Hunter's taken up nicotine and drinking as a legal substitution

- Rex isn't the most moral CEO. His bodyguards are there to protect him, yes, but they also act as enforcers and collectors

- he saved Hunter mostly for selfish reasons. He got rebuffed during their first encounter and liked the idea of taking back that control. Plus, having a guard dog who owed him everything sounded very appealing

- anyways my skrunkly boy looks cute all dressed up

[muggycuphead]

weird flex but ok i guess pt.39

38

Gonna skip the disc a bit since there ain't much sense to put it here tbh

Friday Night Funkin’ BoyFriend’s Hood – Discarded comic script

Here the why ehehe

This was a discarded script I made for when BF’sH was gonna be a comic thing (rip), I decided to port it into a “cellphone style chit chat” format image because txt files are iffy beyond my concept descriptions.

Take a read if u want, it’s mostly bonus stuff, but it sort of has part of context for it (specially for the fire incident, as there’s how BF found out GF was a def demon; basically of the few things that stayed in the rewritten canon aside from Jazz Mum being a jazz player –her personality and design is different as you may remember though- and other things from sketchdump XIX such as the mall and limo events, though the last was incomplete, rip)

Better quality (?

https://www.deviantart.com/pinkiediamondstone15/art/FNFBF-sH-Discarded-comic-dialogue-draft-idea-I-997951484

https://www.deviantart.com/pinkiediamondstone15/art/FNFBF-sH-Discarded-comic-dialogue-draft-idea-II-997951512

https://www.deviantart.com/pinkiediamondstone15/art/FNFBF-sH-Discarded-comic-dialogue-draft-III-I-997951539

https://www.deviantart.com/pinkiediamondstone15/art/FNFBF-sH-Discarded-comic-dialogue-draft-III-II-997951553

[n1pp]

quit brainrot. unfollow trolls. read essays. go down rabbit holes. have a calendar. maintain a todo list. read old books. watch old movies. turn on dnd. walk with intent. eat without youtube. chew more. train without music. plan for 15 mins. execute. organise your desk. take something seriously. read ancient scripts. act fast. find bread. eat clean. journal. save a life. learn to code. read poetry. create art. stay composed. refine your speech. optimise for efficiency. act sincere. help people. be kind. stop doing things that waste your time. follow your intuition. craft reputation. learn persuasion. systemise your day (or don't). write. write. write. write more. iterate violently. leave your phone at home. walk to the grocery store. talk to strangers. feed the dogs. visit bookstores. look for 1800s novels. experience art. then love. sit with a monk and offer them lunch. don't talk shit about people. embody virtue. sit alone. do something with your life. what do you want to create? turn off your mind. play. play a sport. combat sports. notice fonts in trees. fall in love. notice patterns on a table. visualise it. talk to people with respect. don't hate. be loving. be real. become yourself. cherrypick your qualities. discard the useless. rejections aren't permanent. invite what aligns. accept what does not. read great people. be different. choose different. do great work. let it consume you. lose your mind. value your time. experience life.

[akanemnon]

One last heart-to-heart.

So I don't know if this is technically a mini, or a full part (hence the different layout). This was originally not written as part of the script. But I felt it was way too important to not bring up. Especially considering Susie's run-in with that emotional parasite and that whole (not) throwaway line from Lesslo about Kris having been literally discarded and abandoned as a child.

Let's just call it part 91-1.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[astralhive]

Recently watched a few alien movies

I'm disappointed

[burnedself]

Incorrect Quotes ft @ob4yme

[prlssprfctn]

Batfamily get tired of Bruce and Jason's insanity and as true hypocrites buy them monthly sessions to the therapist that they cannot ignore, like, at all. That ensues some troubles.

Jason: *sprawled on the couch in the Batcave* Bruce: *brooding around* Jason: What's up with you? Bruce: I am dreading over the upcoming therapy session. Jason: Oh, lmao, they forced you, too? Bruce, irritated: That's a ridiculous waste of time. I don't even need it. Jason: Yeah, same. Wanna tip, though? Gaslight the shit out of your therapist. Bruce: ...What? Jason: Lie to them. Forge fake stories. If they are a good therapist, they will catch you. But you know what? Mine believes me. Can't wait to find out just how far it can go. Bruce: That's wrong on so many levels. Bruce: ...I'll try.

Of all things that could mend Bruce and Jason's relationship, this makes a trick. They start discussing their therapy sessions all the time. But not because they receive some kind of useful feedback, but because they keep giggling about gaslighting their therapists.

Bruce unleashes his full Brucie Wayne potential on that poor therapist. Like, yeah, he will discuss his traumas... No, no, not his parents' death! He, of course, meant that one incident with Oliver Queen, when they were seventeen and drunk, and-

Bruce: I think I genuinely didn't have so much fun since forever. Therapists truly can help. Jason: I have an amazing idea how to make it even more hilarious. This one is a little insensitive, but hey. Whatever makes it funnier. Bruce, squinting: ...Jason. Jason: Are you in or not? Bruce: ...

*a few hours later, in the living room of the Manor, with all family members gathered*

Bruce: Jason and I asked you to come since we have news for you. As you know, we had been visiting therapists for a while, and it was an immense help to our mental health. As it was expected, in the middle of the sessions we came to the topic of our relationship. Jason: Yeah, uh. We kinda decided to get a separate therapist for this. Like, family one. For us to go together. And fix things. Bruce: Yeah. We just wanted to update you on this. All support would be appreciated. Dick, wiping his tears away: Guys. Guys, I am so proud of you. Jason and Bruce: *high-fiving each other behind their backs*

Do they actually go to the family therapist? Yeah! Do they still continue creating fake ass stories to test their doctor? Yeah! Do they actually by the accident start oversharing their own emotions during acting by an established scenario and actually get a whole mental breakdown in front of terrified therapist? Yeah...

Therapist: So, uh... *checking scribbled notes of a messy drama that Bruce and Jason rehearsed a night before* ...H-how about we think about where it brings us now? Mister Wayne, do you feel guilt about what happened? Bruce, answering automatically, out of prepared lines: Of course, I feel guilt. I always do. Therapist: Okay, why won't you try to apologise before your son? Bruce, stammering: I-I don't know, I am a prideful person Jason, also abandoning their script: Oh, wow, and I am not?! Therapist: O-okay. Uh, mister- Jason: Like, not saying, but it would be nice to see you discarding some of your pride, when all I do is to stomp on my own to please you! Therapist: Okay, okay, how about... Jesus Chirst, mister Wayne, mister Todd-Wayne, are you crying? Jason and Bruce, sniffling: NO!

[tactilegalaxies]

Oh my god, this. I just finally watched Sinners on Wednesday and I was so excited to splash around in the fandom puddle. And then I opened the tag and it was… bizarre. The ratio of reader self-insert fics about Remmick to everything else was so off I closed the tag. And almost no thirst for other characters on this, the famously most horny of the websites.

There was some appreciation for the women of the movie, but I don’t think I saw anything about the Smokestack twins. Which, like… how? I mean, this is the actor who caused the famous “broke my retainer by clenching my teeth too hard at that one Killmonger scene” post. Make it make sense!

the current state of the sinners tag really ought to be the nail in the coffin for anyone who still doubts fandom has a really weird unwillingness to engage with characters of color and will hyperfixate on any white guy available no matter what the source material is actually like. this is a movie that gave you michael b. jordan playing morally dubious well-dressed identical twin mobsters with a deliciously fucked up codependent-enmeshed relationship and the tag is overwhelmingly full of fic about self-inserts having sex with the white villain who's in the movie for like five minutes total and has one line of dialogue alluding vaguely to a potentially sympathetic backstory. i haven't seen a single twincest fic yet. i like remmick and his disney villain swag just fine and i'm not even personally into twincest but you just cannot convince me remmick ships would be dominating the fandom responses in a world where smoke & stack were played by a white guy of comparable conventional attractiveness to mbj lol who would that even be

[torncwpid]

Rewrite the First Time

Summary: Gaz finding out that reader's ex absolutely half-assed her first time, and deciding to make it up for her when they finally have sex

Cw: sexually explicit content (mdni), mentions of bad past relationship, fluffy smut, fem!reader

Word count: 1.9k

I still feel a little awkward writing explicit smut but I figured writing out this thought would be a good idea to exercise that

You didn’t mean to tell him. It was just another late night conversation with your friend, and you were way too comfortable near him. Comfortable enough to feel like it wouldn't be a big deal to mention it, you both wrapped in blankets and watching some half-forgotten show rerun on your couch, his shoulder heavy beside yours.

Kyle had asked you how your last relationship ended. A simple thing friends usually know about each other. You felt like you should have had a simple answer, but the truth is that there were so many reasons for the breakup, all tangled into one big and complicated knot, and you rarely really mentioned all those reasons, settling for a short and socially acceptable “We weren't what each other needed, so I didn't want to be wasting our time and broke up”.

But something about the way he asked it gave you the space to actually answer honestly. Not the autopilot script you gave everyone else. Not the polished version that skipped over the shame and the ache, so you told him about the guy you dated before. He’d gotten under your skin with charm, flattered you until you said yes, and settled on bare minimum from then on. You told Kyle how he made everything feel like a transaction — even sex. Especially sex.

The first time you’d ever been with anyone, it had been with him. You told Kyle how he hadn’t even looked at you when it was over, how he just rolled away. Didn’t kiss you, praise you, ask if you needed anything… just turned his back and went to sleep like your body was a hotel bed he didn’t want to pay for.

You laughed as you said it, and you meant it. It did hurt that he didn't bother to make it special when you had told him more than once how important it was to you, but after so long, you just learned how to live with it since you knew you couldn't change that. What was done was done. But it still stung you deep down — the knowledge that you didn't have a good first experience and couldn't do anything to change it.

Kyle didn’t laugh, though. He didn’t even speak for a long few seconds. His jaw clenched slightly, a muscle ticking like he was chewing through words and discarding each one.

“I’m sorry,” you’d said too quickly, like you’d broken some invisible rule. “I shouldn’t have— That was too much.”

“No, luv, you’re allowed to talk about shit that hurt you.”

You blinked, surprised at how that pet name sounded from his mouth — easy, natural, like it just rolled off. Not romantic, not then. But warm.

He stayed a little longer that night. Watched you out of the corner of his eye as you laughed too hard at some dumb joke on the TV, like he was memorizing the sound.

He never forgot.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later — after flirty texts turned into late-night calls and the tension between you built up every time he brushed your hand or said your name just a bit too softly — that you realized Kyle hadn’t forgotten what you told him.

Because when his hands finally touched your skin like he wanted you, not just because you were available and a woman, but because you were you, it was with a care that had no business being so gentle.

It started slow, like it always did with Kyle. He wasn’t pushy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intense. He kissed you like the taste of your mouth might save him. His hands ran over your sides, your hips, your jaw, slow and steady like he wanted to memorize every millimetre of your body, like he had all night to.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

You shook your head. “Don’t.”

He leaned back slightly, warm eyes searching yours. “Say it.”

“I want you,” you said, voice smaller than you intended.

He smiled, a crooked, soft smile that would have looked boyish if it wasn't for the fire behind his eyes.

And when he touched you… God.

It felt like he was trying to erase the memory of your first time with every stroke of his fingers, every kiss he left against your thighs, your stomach, your breasts. Like he could dig into your bones and pull out that leftover ache and replace it with something that felt like reverence.

“You know,” he murmured, mouth against your skin, “you deserve better than what he gave you.”

It took you a while to remember what he was talking about — who “he” was.

“I know” you whispered.

He looked up at you, face deadly serious. “You should’ve known it then too. He should’ve shown you.”

You swallowed hard, not sure what to say. The weight of being wanted like this wasn’t something you were used to. Not like this. Not when there was no rush. No demand. Just… him.

“I’m not gonna fuck you like it’s routine,” he said softly. “You’re not a goddamn checkbox, love.”

And somehow, that made your breath catch more than anything else he’d said or done.

You weren’t a checkbox.

Not to him.

Not ever.

His mouth found yours again before you could say anything else, stealing whatever breath you had left.

This kiss wasn’t the slow burn from earlier. This one was heat and want and teeth. A low groan rumbled in his chest when you pulled him closer, your fingers sliding under his shirt, feeling the muscles beneath. He let you explore for a minute, then pulled back just enough to strip himself of the fabric before reaching for the hem of yours.

“Can I?” he murmured.

You nodded, and he peeled it over your head with care, like he was unwrapping something sacred. His eyes darkened as they dragged down your body, and he swore softly under his breath.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, and the way he said it — low, guttural, full of awe — made your cheeks burn.

He kissed down your neck, slow and unhurried, until he reached your chest, taking his time there too, like every part of you deserved his full attention. You arched into his mouth as he suckled and teased, and the way he responded — his hand cradling your side, murmuring something sweet you couldn’t quite catch — made your whole body light up.

You’d had someone touch you before, but it never felt like this, even when he was hornier than usual. Kyle didn’t just want you; he worshipped you. Every touch felt like he was craving you, not sex.

When his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, you gasped, your hips lifting instinctively. He hummed against your skin.

“Shhh, I got you,” he whispered. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He pushed the fabric down and off, kissing your thighs as they trembled under his mouth. His breath ghosted over your cunt before he looked up, checking, he was always checking.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Please”

He groaned again, deeper this time, and then his mouth was on you. He didn’t rush, didn’t force, he listened to every moan, every stuttered breath, every twitch of your hips. His hands pinned you down just enough to make you feel safe.

When you came on his tongue, it wasn’t quiet. Wasn’t graceful. It was raw and shaking, and he held you through every second of it like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Only then did he kiss his way back up your body, lips swollen, chin wet.

You pulled him into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, and when you felt him hard against your thigh, you reached down to help him out of the rest of his clothes, and you gasped for a second at the feeling of how big he was.

Still, even now, he paused.

“You sure?” he asked again, voice hoarse.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you said under a chuckle.

He lined himself up, and just before he pushed in, he cupped your cheek, kissing you one more time, like he needed it. Like you grounded him.

The stretch was slow, more careful than anything you’d felt before. Your breath caught, and he stilled immediately, holding you like glass.

“You okay?” he whispered, forehead resting against yours.

Your response was a frantic nod. “I just feel so full.”

He smiled gently. “That’s good, love. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He moved in shallow thrusts at first, letting you adjust, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t believe he was finally inside you. The sound of skin against skin built up slowly, your moans mixing with his, the heat between you unbearable but just perfect.

And then he really started moving. Now it was deeper, harder, and your nails dug into his back.

“Kyle—”

“Fuck, say it again,” he barked, the softness from just minutes ago almost completely gone, the only way you could feel it now was in how he was observing you, looking out for any sign of pain or regret.

“Kyle,” you whimpered.

“God, you feel good— So fuckin’ good around me. So fuckin' tight and wet and all mine— All. Fucking. Mine.”

You cried out, pleasure climbing up your spine like fire. He kept whispering praises disguised as humiliation at you, until you were close again. And he could tell you were there before you even realized. Could feel how much tighter you got.

“I’ve got you, love. Let go for me. Wanna feel you cum all over me.”

And you followed his command like the good girl you are. Feeling you clench around him, he thanked God that you were on birth control, because there was no way he could pull out when you felt so good, dragging him over the edge with you as he buried himself deep with a groan.

He didn’t pull out right away. Just held you and thrusted lazily into you while you both caught your breath.

He pressed kisses to your hair and shoulder before moving the both of you so he could lay down and tuck you into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wanted to let go.

Later, when your body was limp with satisfaction and laziness, when he was tracing idle lines on your hipbone, you’d turned your head and asked the question that had been curling in your chest like smoke.

“Why d’you care so much?”

He hadn’t looked at you right away. Just dragged his fingers down your thigh and kissed your shoulder.

“Because,” he said eventually, “if I’d been your first, I’d have made sure you never forgot it, for the right reasons.”

His voice was rough, and you could tell that he hated that it hadn't been him.

You rolled to face him, your heart pulling tight

“You kind of just did,” you whispered.

The look he gave you then was pure fire and tenderness all at once. Possessive. Dangerous.

Yours.

And he didn’t say it, at least not out loud, but you could feel it in the way his hand curled protectively around your waist and tugged you closer like he needed you against him to survive.

This is how it should’ve been the first time.

And this is how it’ll be every time.

[baby-yongbok]

Cat & Mouse

Lee Felix x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre - Friends to Lovers

✦ Word Count - 2.8k

✦ Summary - Felix is fed up with your game of cat and mouse and decides to flip the script for good. ✦ CW - Unprotected piv, Breeding kink, Degradation, Spanking (for like a second), Possessive Lix, [let me know if I missed anything♡ ] ✦ A/N - Writing jealous dom Felix was a bit harder than I thought. I hope I did it well! I've had this in my drafts for soooooo long. It's time to let her be free... even if I'm nervous asf. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✦ ´-Requested - Yes `♡´ No

✦ Masterlist✦

You have a bit of a bad habit. It started towards the end of high school and followed you through college all the way to now. What is it?

Felix. 

Being around him, teasing him, edging your connection and tittering between giving him more and nothing at all is a thrill that you’ve grown addicted to.

He’s been by your side through it all, pinning for your undivided attention and you feed into it just enough to get his lips on yours. You get him to your bed but never in it. You don’t let him have that. 

He falls for it every time, leaning into your trap and getting high off of the taste of your tongue against his just to watch you stick it down someone else's throat the next day. Just like tonight. 

It’s Chan’s annual holiday shit show that he dares to call a party and you’re on Jeongin’s lap, kissing him and pulling into the same trap you’ve perfected with Felix. Your best friend watches, seething and throbbing in his jeans. 

His mind comes up with excuses for your actions by default. He blames the alcohol, the atmosphere, himself. Everything but you and the game of cat and mouse you’ve been using against him. 

When Jeongin’s hand grips your ass you pull back for air and whisper something that the man under you barely recognizes as a lame excuse to go find your next innocent victim.

You head to the kitchen, looking for something strong enough to inspire your next hunt but then you see Felix. He’s already looking at you, his blonde hair is pulled back under a black beanie, he wears a white tank tight over his body that’s partially hidden under his varsity jacket. 

How could you resist?

The answer is, you can't. 

You saunter right up to him and he watches you. His grip on the glass bottle in his hand tightens and you smirk at the faint twitch of his muscles. 

The intent in his gaze is like cold water to your tipsy state. He sobers you up, gets you hot despite the chill of his undivided attention. You smile, planting your hands against his chest and he lets you, while he takes you in. His eyes follow the curve of your jaw, down the length of your neck and reverse back up to your lips. Then they flit back down. Is that a fucking hickey?

You take the bottle in his hand and gulp down a long swig, not bothering to ask. He doesn't stop you. His eyes are still fixed on the dark mark. His eyes trail down then up and over, looking for more and his fists tighten when he finds them.

"Jeongin?" Felix is asking a question, not stating the obvious. “You let him do that?” his gaze shifts from your neck to meet your eyes and suddenly you feel pinned. 

This look on his face is new. dark. 

"Yeah." You smirk, tilting your head and feigning your usual carefree act. "He's pretty good."

Felix grits his teeth. His jealousy is obvious, it always is but his anger is a bit harder to read. It’s rare that you ever see it. You know him well enough to recognize it though. The subtle clench of his jaw, the stiffness in his posture. And his gaze, hardened and unrelenting. Exposing.

“Shut up.” The bottle is snatched out of your hand and on Felix’s lips in an instant. He downs the rest of it and discards it onto the messy table beside him but you're still caught off guard by his response.

“What?” He tsks, staring back at you.

“I said, shut up.” You laugh. It comes out nervous, awkward, and forced. What’s going on?

"Lix..."

"No. Don't 'Lix' me, you can't keep doing this." His eyes are aflame, a dangerous glint and you shiver. Fuck, he’s actually pissed? “You're just giving attention to anyone who looks at you twice, huh? Anyone but me."

"It's not like that-"

"Bullshit. I see you. You’ve been playing this game for years. You wind me up then let me spin out of control while someone else gets to taste what I’ve been so patient for." Your eyes meet his. The tension between you is thick and you swallow, your mouth feeling suddenly dry.

"That's not-" 

“Don't act stupid. This isn't fair.” What happens next surprises you and pushes Felix over the edge. You grin. Your lips turn up in a way that’s not playful or coy. No. It's smug. You're proud. You've gotten him to break and finally crack, his true feelings exposed. He's done being ignored. 

"Well, you should've spoken up. I would've stopped." He's about to open his mouth, his temper growing and his neck shading a hot red when you press yourself closer. The game is shifting right before your eyes, you can see it in his. 

“Stop playing with me.” His voice is low, husky and deep.

“I can’t.” You bring your hand up to push a fallen strand of hair back from his face but his hand grips your wrist, pulling your attention back to him. 

"Can't? Or won't?" 

"Both." You mumble. “I can’t help myself.”

"Don't bullshit me." His tone is low, eyes blazing and half-lidded and you can't tell if he's challenging you or warning you. So you make it a challenge.

"What are you gonna do about it, Lix?" He pulls you closer by his grip on your wrist. Your chest is flush to his. The tight fabric of your shirts are all that’s separating you from him, the only thing prolonging your inevitable spiral. 

"Don't start anything you can't finish." He whispers but you can hear him loud and clear over the music. 

"Why not?" You ask, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling him closer, "Don’t you not want me, baby?" Your lip gloss stains the rim of his collar. Your perfume clouds his senses and he’s pulling you through the party and over to the stairs.

"Wait! Wait, wait." You're giggling, a giddy sound as he pulls you up the stairs. You're stumbling over his feet, your own, and the steps, "Lix, what’re you-"

"Shut up." You can't stop laughing and smiling, your heart racing. He's finally snapping, getting the balls to put his money where his mouth is. 

 “Felix, I am not fucking you at a party.” He's annoyed, his grip on your wrist is too tight and the hallway is dim. Felix leans down, pressing you against the wall at the top of the stairs and pushing some random drunk guest to the side to make room for you. His forehead to yours, locking your gazes.

“Where do you want me to fuck you then? Cause I’m gonna have you. I’m gonna wipe that pretty smile off your face and I’m gonna do it tonight. So, where do you want me?”

Your breath catches, your words lost in the sudden heat. The game is changing, you're the one losing control now. Your confidence is wavering. 

"Speak up." His nails bite into your wrist and he presses himself firmer against you. "Tell me, princess." 

You can't think, he's got you backed into a corner. Literally. This is all new, this side of him, a dark and dominant one that has you squirming and aching to get a taste of his lips again. The side that you’ve created.

"Tell. Me." You swallow. Your mind is foggy and he's looking down at you with that cold sharp gaze that has you sure that he’ll choose for you if you don’t act fast. 

"Home." You manage. "Take me home."

You've never seen him move so fast. He's practically dragging you out of the party and to his car, your heart pounding and mind racing. The entire drive back is silent. Neither of you can think. He can't decide how he wants to do it. Hard and slow, gentle and quick. All of the above.  

Felix parks his car, it’s crooked and he couldn’t care less. When the two of you get inside he gives you a second, just a second to kick off your shoes before he’s pinning you to the wall by the front door.

His lips are on yours, swallowing your gasp and taking away the breath you were holding. He’s never kissed you like this before. It’s possessive, wild, and so hot. The way he handles you is rough and quick. His hands grip your waist, pulling you forward then moving to cradle the back of your head with one hand while he walks you over to his room. It’s clumsy and messy but you make it.

The back of your knees hit the bed frame and Felix watches as you fall back. He takes it in for a second - the way your chest rises and falls with the rush of him. The way you look at him, trying to guess his next move.

"Are you nervous?" His voice is a whisper, his question almost a taunt. 

"No." There’s a waver in your attempt to be confident and he catches it. He smirks. 

Felix rids himself of his jacket then pushes his tank top up his torso just enough for you to see more of him. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and his smirk turns into a smile. He’s definitely taunting you. 

"Liar." His hands find yours and he holds them above your head. His lips attach to your neck, kissing down the curve of it and biting his own bruises on top of the ones that Jeongin left. 

"Fuck, Lix." You moan. "I’m sorry." 

"Now she’s sorry" His hips rock forward, pressing his hard-on against your thigh. You try to hide the whimper that leaves you but it’s no use. He’s zeroed in, he’s in charge now. "Tell me why I should believe you. After everything, after all the times you've had your tongue down someone's throat and not mine." 

You groan, rolling your hips. "I’m sorry, I-" 

"I'm the only one that can have you, right, baby?" He whispers, his tongue runs along the shell of your ear and your breath stutters.

"Yes." You resign to the electricity coursing between the two of you and buck up into him, desperately chasing the charge of your bodies. 

 “Do you think that you being sorry is going to stop me from ruining you?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” The admission leaves you before you can really think about it. Your brain is fuzzy with thoughts of Felix, it always is but you’ve never given in this far. You can feel him smile against you, his tongue grazes over the bruises he’s created then he pulls back to get a better look at you. 

“That’s good, princess.” His voice vibrates his chest and through you before resonating in the space around you. “Cause we’re gonna play a little game.”

You’re losing it.

“You can do better than that, come on.” Felix’s grip on your hips is bruising as he guides you back against him. His idea of a game is much more cruel than yours or at least that’s what your brain is telling you.

He’s been building you up, chasing a high with you just to make a surprise turn when you’re seconds away from the pinnacle you’ve so desperately fucked him for.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it, baby.” He lets you go, letting you fuck back onto him while he runs his fingers through his platinum locks. You’re drooling at both ends, burning to the bottom like a forgotten candle with the way your orgasm is flickering into view with each stuttered roll of your hips against him.

“You’re not gonna get my cum like that, baby.” The sound of his hand coming down on your ass hits your ears faster than you can react. He spanks your other cheek right after, palming the flesh with a groan. “I should fuck a baby into you. I should - fuck - I should knock you up, keep you as mine forever, yeah?”

A sob is all that you can offer in return, a moan so lewd that it nearly doesn’t sound like you, “Please… let me.. Felix, please…”

 He can’t decide if he likes the sounds of you begging or moaning more. He leans over your body, holding you down so that you're full and still while he takes your hair into his fist and pulls back. Your eyes drift to meet his and it’s then that Felix feels real pleasure. When you look at him like he’s looked at you for years. Like he holds the key to everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“God, you’re so pretty, baby.” He rolls his hips and your eyes go with it. “Beg some more.”

“Please let me cum.” You whimper, fisting the bedsheets and curling your toes. “I wanna cum for you.”

Felix hisses a curse that you take as confirmation just before he starts moving again. He sits up, his fist still in your hair while his other hand grips at your hip. He thrusts into you a way that’s too neat to be reckless. It’s practiced and lethal and it’s tearing you apart. 

His grunts are so deep that they barely register beyond your gasping moans. You tremble and drip and grab at the mattress like it can save you from the fall you're taking. You clench and throb and Felix drinks it in with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Finish for me.” His voice is strained, his own orgasm flickers just out of view as he burns to the bottom. But he doesn’t want this to end. 

He lets go of your hair and reaches around to rub at your clit. You fall forward, your arms give out and your vision blurs as he prolongs the burn. “F-felix, fuck fuck, c-can’t..” His practiced pattern turns into something more wild as he gets closer to his own release. 

His hips slow and his thrusts shallow into a rhythm that has tears rolling down your cheeks and his jaw hanging slack. “Oh, fuck, look at me. Look at me, please.” You turn your head and press the side into the mattress to look at him. There’s a subtle tremble to your body. A vibration that Felix recognizes as raw unfiltered pleasure.

“Who knew you’d look so pretty crying under me.” He groans, bottoming out and pulling back just to do it again. He’s edging himself, using you to keep him right at the tip of it all while you ride his. “Doesn’t this feel so much better than your little game, baby?” 

You can feel it coming, your second or third orgasm. You’ve lost count. The minutes blur together and your words abandon you, your tongue is unstable and caught between your teeth. But Felix is relentless, too far gone in the moment that he’s waited forever for. 

“God, look at you, fucked out, you’d say yes to anything right now wouldn’t ya?” His voice is hoarse, deep. “Want me to fuck a baby into ya? You’re such a slut, listen to you. You want it.” It’s not in your control, or at least that’s what you convince yourself when his words pull a drawn out moan from you. Loud and pornographic.

“Say it. Say you wanna be swollen with my fucking baby and I’ll give you every last drop, princess. All of it. Say it.” His hips falter and his thighs shake against yours as his practiced thrusts turn into messy rutting. You moan, he moans and somewhere in between you two fit whimpers of each other's names. 

You’re gone. 

“Y-yes, yes, I wan’ it.” Tears are falling and your vision abandons you, going from blurry to white as another orgasm peaks. You take a breath, deep like him and you’re falling all over again, screaming and drooling and cumming so hard that Felix has to hold your hips up.

“Holy shit, that cunt ‘s gonna make me cum. Gonna fucking cum.” Now he’s lost it. He chases his high while you fall apart around him and he groans when it finally catches up to him. 

He’s finally got it. He’s got you.

He empties himself inside of you with every intention of pulling out but none of the control. His knees threaten to fold beneath him but he keeps himself up through the duration of his orgasm before collapsing onto the mattress. 

You’re panting, dumb with pleasure as the aftershocks surge through you. You want to say something, anything but nothing feels right. What do you say to the man you’ve finally fucked after years of teasing?

Felix decides to fill in the silence with something better than words. He pulls out of you with a small moan and turns you around. You’re barely settled in his arms before his lips are on yours, hungry and hunting. There’s a passion to it, something that you can only recognize as longing. The taste is something that you can only describe as Felix. 

You let yourself go, you let him have you and he moans once he feels the chain snap. The hold is gone. 

It’s game over.

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[nephynes]

Jaywon as like bullies? Stay with me now. I feel like Jay would always tease you and Jungwon would reassure you he’s just joking and you like one day kinda feel like Jungwon has feelings for you back, so you text him. And the whole time Jay was right next to him. Most of the time it was Jay typing. Jungwon plays along but never confirms he has feelings for you lowk he was just being nice to get in ur pants. Fast forward he does, he invites you over and boom jays there, ok that’s all I got😭 I was going off of that one pic, yk the one of Jay next to Jungwon and Jay was typing out comments on weverse

i think i have a compression problem cause i went wayyy off script (sorry girl)

MDNI

══════════════════════════

You've never really known where you stood with Jay and Jungwon. Jay's cruel, that much is obvious. He doesn't even try to hide it always tripping you when you pass by their table in the cafeteria, tugging your hair just hard enough to make your eyes water, smirking when you stumble and calling you pathetic under his breath, loud enough for others to hear and laugh.

And when he catches you alone in the hallway? He forces you to your knees under the pretense of "tying your shoe," fingers gripping your shoulders just a little too tight as he leans down, dark eyes glinting with something feral. "Look at you," he'll sneer, "right where you belong."

But Jungwon's different. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself. He's soft. Smiles at you when Jay's not looking. Whispers apologies when Jay gets too rough. Brushes your hair behind your ear and tells you you're pretty when Jay calls you ugly. Jungwon flirts with you like it means something, asks what color lip gloss you're wearing, tells you he likes your perfume, offers you a sip of his drink after gym like it's normal. Like he doesn't sit beside a boy who seems to genuinely enjoy breaking you.

Sometimes you think you're imagining it, the difference between them. Like maybe Jungwon just feels bad. But then he says something like, "Don't listen to him, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," and it sticks to the inside of your skull like a curse. Like hope.

You start to look for him more. Listen harder when he talks. Respond when he teases you gently instead of shrinking away like you do with Jay. You think about what it might be like if he kissed you. If he said he actually liked you. If all those times he brushed his fingers against yours meant something real.

So when you get a text from his number late one night, well past midnight, your heart stutters.

jung1: you up?

You blink at the screen, tucked under your blanket, stomach fluttering. You respond quickly, trying not to overthink.

you: yeah, everything okay?

It starts slow. Light. Flirty. He asks what you're wearing, you say pajamas, what you're watching, you lie and say something cool, and then he asks if you've ever thought about kissing him. Your fingers freeze. You hesitate, heart pounding, and then finally respond.

you: sometimes...

You bite your lip. The next reply comes fast.

jung1: i think about it all the time.

You don't know what to say. You smile, cheeks burning. You're giggling into your pillow, feeling so stupidly lucky. Like maybe, just maybe, you were right all along. Maybe he really does see you.

The light from Jungwon's phone screen glows soft and blue, casting shadows across his sharp features as he lounges on Jay's bed, back against the headboard. He's biting his lip, one hand scrolling through your messages, the other resting lazily in his lap.

Jay's sitting at the foot of the bed, legs spread, phone discarded. His focus is entirely on Jungwon, or more specifically, on the quiet smirk tugging at Jungwon's lips as another reply from you pops up.

"She said 'sometimes,'" Jungwon reads aloud, voice amused. "About the kissing."

Jay barks a short laugh. "You've got her wrapped, man. That shit's pathetic."

Jungwon shrugs, eyes flicking up briefly to meet Jay's. "She's cute, though."

"You mean easy," Jay corrects, smirking. He crawls up the bed, looming closer to see the screen. "Let me answer this one."

Jungwon doesn't hesitate. He hands over the phone, brushing Jay's fingers with his own in a way that lingers just long enough to feel intentional.

Jay types quickly.

jung1: i think about it all the time

He hits send and tosses the phone back to Jungwon like it's nothing. Like you're nothing.

"She's gonna lose her shit," Jay grins. "I bet she's already got her hand down her pants."

Jungwon laughs, soft and cruel. "Probably too scared to touch herself."

Jay cocks his head. "Should we help her out?"

Jungwon scrolls through your previous messages, eyes narrowing in amusement at the shy way you word things, all lowercase, hearts, hesitant punctuation. "She's already halfway there. We can keep pushing."

Jay moves in again, his voice low and close to Jungwon's ear. "Ask if she wants to see it."

There's no need to clarify. Jungwon knows exactly what it means.

He pauses. "Too soon?"

Jay shrugs. "Not if we say it like you're nervous about it. Make it sweet. You know, like...you."

Jungwon glances at him, a twitch of a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a dick."

"Yeah. Right, whatever."

Jungwon doesn't deny it. Instead, he starts typing again, glancing at Jay before hitting send.

jung1: i don't wanna make you uncomfortable but... do you wanna see me?

They wait in silence. Jay's grinning now, teeth sharp. Jungwon's lip curls in satisfaction as your typing bubble pops up again and again, disappearing, coming back. He knows you're spiraling, nervous, flustered, overthinking every word.

Finally, your reply comes in.

you: yes...

Jay whistles low. "No way."

"I told you," Jungwon says simply, lifting the phone up. "She wants it." Jay stretches, arms behind his head, eyes dark. "Good. Then give it to her."

Jungwon's quiet as he opens his camera. He doesn't even hesitate whipping out his cock that's already half hard. It's almost insane how turned on he is by your naivety. The shot is fast, practiced. He sends it.

Then, almost like they planned it, he types the next message slowly, watching Jay's reaction from the corner of his eye.

jung1: your turn? 🙃

Jay leans in, lips barely parting. "She really sent it?"

Jungwon doesn't answer. He just turns the screen.

The picture is small, blurry but it doesn't matter. The point is that she sent it. You sent it. Your breasts sit so perky and perfect, nipples so hard—they both can't help but wonder if that was the first cock you ever saw.

Jay stares for a beat longer than he should. Then his gaze flicks up, locking with Jungwon's. Neither of them speak for a moment.

Then Jungwon licks his lips and murmurs, "You earned it."

Jay's already unzipping his jeans as Jungwon hands him the phone, maybe for a better view. He’s tugging at Jay’s jeans to hastily pull out his throbbing hard cock and wrap his mouth around it, the way he knows Jay likes.

Jungwon is leaned back against the headboard again, shirt off now, chest slowly rising and falling as he scrolls aimlessly through your messages, past the pictures, the nervous giggles you typed out, the confession you were too shy to say out loud but let slip anyway:

you: i've never done this before... only because it's you

His lip twitches at that. A smile. Barely there, but it's not the kind that reaches his eyes.

Jay's already half-asleep next to him, arms folded behind his head, a lazy grin still on his face and looking way too blissed out from what Jungwon did to him. "Didn't think she'd actually send it," he mumbles, eyes closed.

"She would've," Jungwon replies quietly, "Eventually. Girls like her always do."

Jay snorts. "Yeah, but only with you. You're the golden boy."

Jungwon hums, scrolling further, rereading a message where you told him you feel safe when he's around. That you trust him. That he makes you feel beautiful, not like how Jay always makes you feel small.

The irony almost makes him laugh.

He plays the role so well—soft voice, tender glances, the hand that brushes your hair behind your ear and tells you, "He doesn't mean it, you're perfect the way you are." You believed it, like you needed to.

And that's what made it easy.

Jay might've been loud, obvious, the kind of cruel you can point at and flinch from but Jungwon? He made you lean in. Made you feel chosen even.

He remembers the first time you blushed just because he said your name. Remembers how you always looked at him like he was the one good thing in a world full of people who didn't see you. You never asked why he never touched you when no one was looking. Why he always had a reason to walk away after making you flustered.

Because Jungwon never had to push. He waited. Watched. Let Jay tear you down until you reached for him like a life raft and he let you.

All the while knowing he was going to drown you too.

He turns the phone screen off and places it down slowly, thoughtfully. Jay's breathing deepens beside him, drifting off fully now but it doesn’t stop Jungwon from leaning in and pushing his tongue into Jay’s closed mouth and Jay even from his state of sleep, kisses back.

Jungwon laughs as he watches Jay’s head lift from the pillows, chasing Jungwon’s lips as he pulls back. Jungwon curls into Jay’s side and closes his eyes with that same soft expression you always mistook for affection.

But all it ever was—was hunger, dressed in kindness.

══════════════════════════

• a/n: this gives me tension theory vibes, am i tripping?

there’s an upgraded sequel- play thing

[jellybonbons]

Sweet Tooth or Sweet Cravings?

Kenji Sato x fem!reader

Summary: When a chocolate company sent Ken a PR package, he ate the chocolates without thoroughly inspecting them, and, well...things took an unexpected turn.

CW: 18+ (mdni), established relationship, aphrodisiac chocolates, implied panty sniffing, masturbation, fingering, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names.

Words: 1.5k

AN: this is just an excuse for me to write him like he's in heat :3

Today 4:12 PM

Ken <3: can you come home? its an emergency

The moment you saw his text, your heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, you clocked out early and made a beeline for the parking lot. You had never driven so fast in your life, and you were sure you almost broke the gas pedal from how hard your heels were pressing on it. 

The city streets blurred past you, your mind racing with worry and a thousand scenarios of what could have gone wrong. You barely noticed the honking horns or the changing traffic lights, and your focus was solely on getting to Ken as quickly as possible.

As you reached Ken's home, you punched in the code with shaking fingers, and the door swung open almost instantly. You dropped your bag near the entrance, not caring where it landed, and stumbled inside, quickly sliding off your heels as you hurried to find him.

Rounding the corner into the living room, you saw Ken from behind, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. "Ken, are you ok–" The sight caught you off guard. There he was, panting heavily, glistening with sweat, eyes half-closed as he stroked his cock. It stood proudly and flushed in a deep red colour. His other hand clutched your panty from this morning.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to–fuck,” the moment he saw you, his body tensed, and with a guttural moan, he finally came, his cum coating his hand and abdomen.

As he sprawled against the couch, you took a moment to look around the living room. Your eyes landed on a box of half-eaten chocolates on the coffee table. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the box and examined it closely. The label read "Aphrodisiac Chocolates" in a small, elegant script. Realisation dawned on you, and you couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. Ken had unknowingly consumed aphrodisiacs, and now the situation made a lot more sense.

You sat down next to him on the couch, eyes wide with concern. "Ken, what the hell? Are you okay?"

"I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this... I think I overdid it with those chocolates."

"Those weren’t just chocolates, were they?"

"No, they were aphrodisiac chocolates. I didn’t check the label...clearly, I should have," he growled, frustration evident in his voice as he discarded your panty from his hand.

"Yeah, I can see that. It’s obvious they did more than just satisfy a sweet tooth," you smirked, leaning closer, your breath teasing against his ear.

"You’re not helping, you know." His eyes narrowed at you, a mix of frustration and desire burning within them.

Before you could respond, Ken, overwhelmed by the effects and your teasing, pulled you down onto him. He ground his hard-on between your thighs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he tried to find some relief.

"Ken, what—" You gasped, your voice filled with surprise.

"I need you. Right now. Please, help me." His voice was husky and urgent, his need unmistakable.

–

You lost track of time, the sky outside turning dark as the house became dimly lit. Your clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had taken you on every possible surface – from the coffee table to the expansive living room window overlooking the ocean, and now on his bed. 

He didn't hesitate for a moment, his desire insatiable. Somehow, he even managed to feed you the aphrodisiac chocolates during heated kisses, deepening the intensity of your connection with each touch and taste that seemed impossible to quench.

"Baby," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He had your hands pinned against the headboard, his grip firm and unyielding. His chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, as his fingers delved into your wet cunt, moving with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless.

The squelching sound filled the room, adding to the erotic symphony that drove him even harder. Your back arched with every expert stroke, each thrust of his fingers hitting the perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Ken, wait!” you gasped, feeling a strange pressure building within you. “I feel like I’m gonna pee.”

He didn’t falter for a second, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm. “Just let go, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. “The sheets are already dirty anyway.”

His words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers broke down your resistance. With a cry of both pleasure and relief, you let go, your body trembling as you squirted, the sensation overwhelming. Ken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to work you through it, his fingers drenched in your release.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. “Just like that.”

As Ken finally released your hands, you let them slide down, resting them beside you—the dampness of the wet sheets clinging uncomfortably to your skin, causing you to grimace. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the rapid pace of your breathing, and allowed yourself a moment to regain composure.

Ken, still insatiable and eager, looked at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice rough with need. You, sore and spent, protested weakly, “Baby, I’m so beat... I don’t know if I can handle much more.”

He silenced your concerns with a reassuring smile and a quick, decisive movement. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he said, his tone filled with confidence. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on his lap, your legs spread and held against your chest. He manoeuvred you into a perfect angle and guided his hard cock to your still-sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, Ken, too deep!” you cried out, your voice trembling as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Saliva dribbled from your lips, a testament to the intense pleasure and exhaustion.

Ken's voice was a low, teasing murmur against your ear. “But you love it when I go deep like this,” he cooed, his tone dripping with mockery. He squeezed you closer, his grip firm and possessive, restricting your movements and trapping you in place. 

The way he moved, controlling every motion and maximising your pleasure, made you feel like nothing more than his personal plaything, his fleshlight. Each powerful thrust sent your breasts bouncing. Your head leaned back against him, the sensation overwhelming as his movements were both demanding and dominant, ensuring you felt every inch of him, leaving you breathless and helpless under his command.

Finally, with a guttural groan that reverberated through the room, Ken’s body tensed, and a shudder ran through him as he reached his peak. His hot cum spilling deeply inside you, a wave of warmth that filled you completely.

He collapsed against you, his breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps as he buried his face in your hair, staying fully inside you. As he caught his breath, he managed to joke through his ragged breaths, “I think I’ll have to give that chocolate company a review —'5 stars for effectiveness!'”

You weakly slapped his arms, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips despite the fatigue. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, barely able to muster the energy to respond.

He then gently shifted his position, moving his hand to cup your chin and guide your face towards his. His eyes, soft and tender, met yours as he leaned in to press a gentle, affectionate kiss to your lips. 

Pulling back slightly, he whispered with a teasing smile, “But you love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” You responded with a playful sigh.

–

You were scrolling through your phone during lunch, your thoughts drifting as you ate, when a familiar company caught your eye. You paused, intrigued by a screenshot of a review with the username Notkensato07. The review was under a popular chocolate company, and as you read the lines, you couldn’t help but groan.

Notkensato07: ★★★★★

"Absolutely incredible! I tried the aphrodisiac chocolates and they were so effective, my girlfriend’s still recovering. If you want a taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of chaos—this is your go-to. 5 stars, but if I could give it more, I would!

⤷ 241 replies

g0urmetguru: More than 5, huh? That’s some serious praise. I’m curious, how long did the effects last? Asking for a friend 😉

sillysocks76: IS THIS KEN SATO?

ChefRemyDaRat: Wow, talk about a rave review! If it’s that good, I’m buying a box for sure 🔥

chocolateroses: LMAOOO! I hope your girlfriend’s recovery is going well, man!

SweetToothSteve: Wow, this sounds wild! I’ve heard aphrodisiac chocolates are hit-or-miss, but this sounds like a game-changer. Guess I’ll be adding these to my shopping list!

jellybonbons: Nah, that’s cap.

  ⤷ chikinuggie: You’re just salty because you got no hoes.

   ⤷jellybonbons:  (comment removed for harassment) 

     ⤷jellybonbons: Wtf? why is my comment removed n not chikin for bullying?!

      ⤷ chikinuggie: The truth hurts, doesn’t it?

        ⤷ SweetToothSteve: Alright, kids, play nice! 😂

–

Shocked by the boldness of his review, you yelled out his name in disbelief, “SATO!”

Ken, who had been skipping around the living room as part of his exercise routine, froze mid-skip. The sudden outburst made him lose his rhythm, causing him to trip over his own feet. 

“Oh shit!”

Dividers by: @/chilumitos

[beloveds-embrace]

(more of this, this, and this in which duchess reaches her last straw and pulls rank!)

The roses arrive in the midmorning, fresh with the crisp bite of winter still clinging to their petals. The bouquet is grand- far too grand to be anything casual. Rich, deep red blooms tied together with a velvet ribbon, their fragrance thick in the cold air as the footman carries them inside.

The staff pauses as the flowers are set on a side table in the foyer. It’s been a long, long time such a romantic gesture has entered the house that it nearly feels like a disruption, a challenge to the air of restraint and cold civility that has settled over the estate after your marriage to John and especially as of late.

But what truly sends a ripple through the house is the card that sits nestled among the blooms, thick parchment folded and sealed with gold wax.

For the Duchess.

When the bouquet is delivered to you, you receive it with the same measured grace you meet all things these days. A tilt of your head, a quiet acknowledgment, before you pluck the card from its place and break the seal with a flick of your thumb.

The words within are warm, full of deep gratitude and admiration, and your lips press together for a moment as you trace the elegant script with your fingertips.

You smile, small and private, as you set the letter gently against your lap, letting your fingers graze over the parchment once more. The flowers are stunning, yes, but it is the letter that truly holds weight.

The house may not appreciate you. But somewhere out there, someone does.

But as you lift your gaze, you see the tension that has begun to coil in the air around you.

John is staring at the bouquet like it’s a declaration of war specifically against him. His arms are crossed over the expanse of his chest, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he studies the flowers as if they might reveal the identity of the sender on their own from the sheer intensity of his gaze alone.

Simon stands beside him, unreadable, but his silence is heavier than usual. His fingers tap idly against his sleeve, betraying a restrained sort of agitation, while Johnny and Kyle are no better- both shifting uneasily, eyes darting from the roses to you and back again.

You simply turn away, setting the bouquet carefully on the nearest table before resuming your place near the window, where the pale winter light casts long shadows across the floor.

Silence stretches, and you deliberately tuck the letter into the pocket of your gown. You do not fold it away carelessly, nor do you discard it- no, you keep it. Visibly.

Their eyes track the motion like wolves scenting blood.

Then-

“Who sent them, wife?” John’s voice is clipped, controlled, but there’s something simmering beneath it.

You do not look at him, focusing once more on the lovely roses. “Why does it matter?”

Kyle shifts, clearing his throat. “Well… it’s just that… seems a bit forward. And disrespectful.”

Johnny huffs beside him, eyes narrowed like John. “Aye. Flowers like that? Someone’s tryin’ to court ye.”

At that, you let out a soft, knowing hum. You do not confirm nor deny, merely reaching out to trace the velvety petals of one of the roses, letting your touch linger.

John’s expression darkens.

Simon finally speaks, his voice low, measured. “If someone is trying to win your affections, we should know who they are.”

You tilt your head slightly, finally turning to face them. “And why is that?”

John steps closer. “Because you are my wife.” The words are firm, but there is an unspoken still hanging in the air between you.

Bitterness inside you tightens like knot, but you do not let it show. Instead, you lift a brow, gaze cool. “I do not recall that matter ever being of concern to you before.”

His jaw tightens. “That is not-”

You cut him off with a simple, deliberate movement- reaching out, tracing the velvety petals of one of the roses again, your touch lingering. It is a small gesture, but it drives a sharp knife into the tension between you all.

Johnny frowns. “Ya like them, then?”

You do not answer. Instead, you pluck a single rose from the arrangement, twirling it between your fingers as you return to your seat, legs crossed neatly, the picture of poise. Twirling it between your fingers before bringing it close, you inhale the rich scent with a faint, adoring smile.

Kyle exhales sharply. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous,” you muse, examining the bloom in your grasp. “Is your sudden concern over something so trivial.”

John exhales through his nose. “Who sent them, Duchess?”

You glance at him, considering him for a long moment, before finally answering, voice deliberately indifferent.

“Someone who appreciates me.”

The words land like a hammer.

John's expression darkens, Simon's fingers twitch at his sides, Johnny swears under his breath, and Kyle looks like he wants to sink into the floor.

Good.

Let them stew in it.

Let them feel what you have felt for so long- neglected, disregarded, unwanted. Let them understand, even for a moment, what it means to be on the other side.

The silence that follows is heavy and charged. Then, without another word, you rise, the single rose still in your grasp, and leave them there- standing in their own jealousy, their own regret.

They do not let it go, unsurprisingly.

John insists on having breakfast with you more, where before he barely spared you a glance at the table. He lingers, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze.

Simon begins to find more reasons to be near you, silent but present, a constant shadow. He does not speak much, but his attention is unyielding.

Johnny, ever the charming one, suddenly starts bringing you sweets and pastries with an almost desperate enthusiasm, his jokes softer, his smiles less certain.

And Kyle- he is the worst of them all, ever dutiful, ever attentive, ensuring your every request is fulfilled with a precision that borders on obsessive.

It is almost amusing.

Almost.

But you let them chase and let them fret. It was terribly amusing and vindicating, especially whenever you reread that letter.

Your Grace, We cannot begin to express our gratitude for the kindness you showed us in our time of need. When all others turned their backs, you extended your hand, and because of you, our humble flower business did not wither and die. Please accept this bouquet as a token of our deepest thanks. It is but a small gesture for a debt we will never be able to repay. May your days be filled with as much beauty as you have given to us.

With all our gratitude,

The [] Family