#everyone let’s pour one out for the concert scene

[strangersatellites]

burning desire hit 15k and i missed it?????? my silly little teacher steve??????? my goofy rockstar eddie????? i’m so 🥰🩷🫶🏼🥹💓

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

[bro-atz]

being sensual in the dark

in which: you and your friend meet with your fling and his friends

pair: mingi/afab!reader

word count: 2k

content: smut, clubbing, drinking, rough sex, vaginal sex, completely consensual!

apply for the permanent taglist here! bsitd series: mingi, seonghwa

“This place makes me uncomfortable,” your friend said to you as you both made your way through the crowd.

“We’re in a club,” you rolled your eyes. “Pretend we’re at a concert or something.”

You felt your friend run into you as she moved out of the way to avoid a boy. She grabbed your arm and stuck close to you as you both made your way past the dancing boys and girls. You finally led your friend to a booth and sat down. She ended up sitting directly next to you.

“Say hi,” you gestured to your friend. “This is the friend I was telling you all about.”

The boys all waved at her, and she immediately looked down at her lap. You nudged her arm with your elbow, willing her to look up.

“Let me introduce you to the boys,” you told her. “From left to right is Jongho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Yunho, Hongjoong, and Mingi.”

Your friend bowed her head down at the eight boys who either waved or nodded back. You smiled at the scene, hoping that you friend would open up and enjoy the company of these eight boys.

“I’m going to hit the bar for more drinks. Who wants to tag along?” Jongho asked as he stood up.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Yunho stood up, Wooyoung standing up as well.

The three boys left. You got up to sit next to Mingi, the boy immediately welcoming you. Your knee lightly touched his as you leaned towards him, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, his hand going over your shoulders and hugging you to his chest.

“Hey, sexy,” you greeted right back.

“What took you so long? I feel like we were waiting forever.”

“Sorry, you know how hard it is to catch a cab at this time of the night. Everyone is out and about.”

“Maybe I should pick you up next time,” he whispered into your ear, his nose brushing your jawline as he did so.

He then winked at you, causing your face to heat up in no time. You looked away abruptly to keep your sanity, only to see that your friend was sitting in between San and Seonghwa— Hongjoong and Yeosang left to help the other three with drinks. You were about to say something to your friend when Wooyoung cheered as he arrived at the table.

“We brought back drinks!” Wooyoung announced as the five boys returned to the table.

You took a beer from Yunho and scooted over, sandwiching you between the two tall boys. Mingi, who also got a beer in that time, tapped the neck of his beer bottle with yours. You both took a sip from your beers, only to see that a shot glass appeared in front of you. You watched as Jongho poured shots for everyone.

“You’re trying to get me fucked up again, aren’t you?” Mingi asked Jongho.

“We gotta do at least one shot,” Yunho advocated for you all to take the shots.

You picked up your shot glass and held it up to make a toast. After everyone cheered, you took the shot and set the glass down. One shot was definitely not going to do anything to you. Yunho, knowing that you could use another shot, poured you one. He tapped his shot glass against yours, and you took the shot together. You felt a hand on your thigh after you finished the shot and turned to see Mingi with a tiny frown on his face. Yunho, who took the hint, got up with Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San, and the four of them went to dance. Jongho and Hongjoong left to get more drinks shortly after that, leaving you at the table with Seonghwa, your friend, and Mingi.

“Why’d you take that shot with him?” Mingi asked you.

“He poured me the shot. I wasn’t about to say no.”

“Then,” Mingi grabbed the soju bottle and poured shots for the two of you. “Do another with me.”

“Of course,” you smiled and picked up the shot.

He tapped his glass with yours, and you both took your shots. Mingi set his glass down on the table and immediately held your thigh again, his hand bringing you closer to him. He held your waist tightly as you brought your legs to hang over his. You started tugging at the fabric on his clothes, his tie lacing through your fingers.

“Why did you decide to wear a tie today?” You asked him as you wrapped his tie around your fingers.

“It matched the rest of my outfit. I was going for business chic.”

“You do look good, I must say.”

“Of course I do, but I look better with you on my arm.”

You slapped Mingi’s chest lightly, his cheesiness making you bashful and embarrassed. You cleared your throat and tried to calm down the heat on your face when another question popped into your mind.

“Hey, you weren’t jealous that I took that shot with Yunho, were you?”

You traced a line along his jawline as you teased him.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t like sharing you with any of the guys.”

He brought one of his hands up to gently move your hair away from your face, your skin burning at his light touch.

“Why is that?”

You stroked Mingi’s cheek before he moved his head to kiss your palm. He looked right at you with his sharp, serious gaze, sending your heart to run at the speed of light. Your heart rate only went higher when he squeezed your cheeks with one hand and brought your face closer to his.

“Because I want you all to myself.”

His hand still holding your cheeks, he pulled you closer to him, his plush, pink lips leaving the lightest of kisses to linger on your lips. You frowned as he pulled away. You were expecting more than that.

“You can’t tease me like that, baby,” you whined as you grabbed his collar.

“If I didn’t hold back, then I would have my way with you right on this table. I’m exercising a lot of self control right now.”

You felt your face heat up as you saw the sharp look in his eye. His arms wrapped around your waist and held you gently, his fingertips tickling your waist. His lips brushed past yours lightly again, and again, and again. You felt more restless with every passing kiss. All you wanted was to kiss him rough and hard.

“Stop holding back,” you whispered into his ear after moving away from the infuriating light kisses.

“Do you really want me that bad?”

“No, I need you that bad.”

Mingi laughed and held you closer to him. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and left a kiss on your collarbone. You stifled a moan as he left wet, intense kisses on your neck. You placed your hand on his thigh and slowly moved it towards his crotch as he continued to leave playful kisses on your exposed skin. You heard him inhale sharply as you pressed down lightly, his dick starting to firm up.

“You’re evil,” Mingi whispered to you.

“No, just impatient. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where did you want to go?”

“Why don’t you pick?”

Before you knew it, you both were back at your place and stumbling in the dark. Your shoes clattered on the ground as you both shed your shoes. The lights in your place remained off as you went from wall to wall, Mingi pinning you against each wall and kissing you harder. You felt his waist press against yours every so often. It wasn’t just you who was impatient— Mingi definitely was too.

“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore,” Mingi hissed as he firmly pressed you up a final wall.

He pushed up your dress aggressively and tugged your panties to the side, his fingers rushing into you. You yelped and held onto Mingi tighter as his fingers continued to squelch through your pussy. Just as fast as he shoved his fingers in you, he removed them all together. Meanwhile, while he was abusing you with his fingers, his lips were still pressed against yours. He tugged upwards on your lower lip as he removed his pants and pulled out his dick. He placed it at your entrance and with one quick stroke, he shoved his well hung cock all the way into you. Your whole body jolted with every thrust of his, your cries of pleasure ringing out in the stillness of your place.

“Mingi! Ah!” You clung to him as he pulled your leg upwards. “Harder!”

“Harder?!” Mingi couldn’t help but be shocked.

Yet, he listened to you. He picked you up and carried you by your thighs as he remained upright. He lifted and lowered you harshly on his dick, the slaps of his waist against your ass overpowering the decibel of your moans. Your nails dug into his neck as you felt Mingi’s dick penetrate you to your very core while Mingi bit your neck before leaving dark marks.

“Mingi,” you whimpered. “You feel so good!”

“You do, too. Fuck, you’re so fucking tight… I’m going to cum!”

Mingi slammed you down into his hips one last time and groaned as he released his hot, sticky load inside you. His cum dripped out of your pussy and down his dick, little drops of white dotting your hardwood flooring. The two of you only realized what he had done after he pulled out of you completely. He set you down on the ground carefully and bowed his head deeply.

“Shit… I’m so sorry,” Mingi apologized earnestly— he seemed mortified that he just had sex with you without a condom.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “If I wasn’t okay with it, I would have stopped you in the very beginning.”

“Are you sure?” Mingi looked at you with the world’s most innocent eyes, making your heart melt in an instant.

“Of course,” you cupped his face and kissed him lightly. “Besides, I’m on the pill.”

“Say less.”

Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and carried you to your bedroom where he tossed you on the bed like you were weightless. He stripped you until you were completely naked in less than two seconds before stripping himself, the moonlight— the only light in the room— illuminating all of his defined muscles. He then pinned you down on the bed and swiftly entered you, this time his dick just gliding in. His body rolled into yours as he fluidly thrust in and out of you rhythmically— satisfying not only your libido but also scratching the itch in your brain. That being said, you wanted more from him.

“Faster!” You whined as you wrapped your arms around his wide back and pulled him into you.

“Fuck,” Mingi hissed as he dropped his head into the nook of your neck.

His thrusts got exceptionally faster, your bed springs working overtime to keep up with Mingi’s place. He placed his hands under your thighs and pushed upward, your back lifting off the bed ever so slightly. Your back barely moved upwards, but it was such a new angle that your body couldn’t keep it together any longer— plus, Mingi really was moving faster and faster, making you near your climax within seconds. You moaned loudly as you felt yourself cum, Mingi’s dick still inside you. He kept thrusting, your cum squirting through his thrusts onto him and the bed. You just couldn’t stop moaning as he continued ruthlessly until he slammed into you with one final, powerful thrust, his cock spasming inside you as he came again. As he pulled out, he came just the tiniest bit more, his thick white cum pouring out of your pussy slowly.

You seriously thought that Mingi would be done, but you looked to see that his dick was still very much erect. Your whole body trembled as Mingi’s dick entered you again, and your toes curled as he rotated you onto your side, his cock twisting within you. He put your leg over his shoulder and began thrusting again, your little yelps along with his low grunts echoing in the bedroom. You wanted to scream his name as you felt yourself ready to orgasm once again, but instead, he chose to press his lips into yours, his tongue nearly going down your throat. You moan and cried into the kiss as you came one more time, Mingi completely pulling out to let you finish properly. Once you finished properly, though, he slammed into you again, causing you to unintentionally tighten up.

“God Dammit, babe! You’re so fucking tight!” Mingi groaned, his thrusts getting more powerful.

You whimpered as he turned you around one more time so he could turn you around and hit it from behind. Your arms gave in, and you were leaning on your elbows, your back arching just enough for Mingi to cum one last time. He came inside you, then pulled out, stroked himself some more, then came on your back.

The sounds of the pants from both of you were loud and clear as you both calmed down, the sexual tension from earlier that night finally subduing. You rolled over and laid down on the part of the bed that wasn’t completely ruined by you and Mingi, Mingi rolling into the limited space right beside you. His arms wrapped around you and held you close, your ear pressing against his chest. Despite his breathing returning to normal, you could hear his heart still racing.

“Mingi,” you whispered as you pressed a finger against his left chest. “Why is your heart still racing?”

“Because I have a sexy babe laying in my arms making me feel things more than just lust,” Mingi whispered back, his lips near your ears.

He kissed your temple and hugged you even closer, your arms going over his shoulders to hug him back.

“What’re you saying?” You asked him still quietly.

“I’m saying that I like you, beautiful. A lot.”

You buried your face in his chest and exhaled happily.

“I like you a lot, too, handsome.”

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Eighteen

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Cuss words and angst, my bread and butter rn

Notes: I’m so sorry this is late tonight! I’m still reeling from Tuesday night’s Sleep Token concert… it was honestly life changing. I’ve been working on this chapter all day so I hope you like! I promise I’m trying to get through New Moon without dragging it out longer than necessary, I just need to set up certain things for… things👀

Word Count: 2383

Series Masterlist

• January 17th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Long, cold fingers trail across my cheekbones - featherlight and almost reverent in their exploration. Cool lips brush my hairline and I can feel the smile against my skin. A grin tilts the corner of my mouth and I roll over to push my face into the hard chest at my side to just get a few more moments of sleep.

But my face didn't meet his chest, I rolled right onto a cool pillow.

I flip back over and blink at the ceiling of my bedroom. The fan begins to swim as the familiar tickle of tears threatens to bubble over the corners of my eyes, it was a dream.

Sleep used to be the reprieve from these feelings, but he’s bleeding into my subconscious too. Fuck, is this just life from now on? Not only just pining after someone by day, but dreaming of him by night too?

“How was your night out, sweetheart?” My mom calls as she hears me descend the stairs.

The scent of bacon and pancakes wafts down the hallway and my stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“The movie kinda sucked, but I think everyone had fun.” I go for the vague answer, not wanting to scare her by trying to explain Bella’s theory-on-danger test.

“Oh? What movie did you see?” Her eyebrows pinch together as she tosses the question over her shoulder.

“The new one that just came out about zombies, it had jump scares and chase scenes that had me scared out of my mind the entire time. And after the movie, Jessica went on this rant about how it might have a double meaning for leprosy, I had to fight not to laugh.” Pouring two glasses of orange juice, I set the table as I explained.

“Dear Lord, I worry about that girl sometimes.” Dishing food onto my plate, she pauses. “I’m glad you had a good night out.”

I opt to shove food in my mouth instead of responding to her quiet comment. Halfway through my pancakes, the familiar crunch of gravel under old tires sounds from the driveway.

“Who-?” But I’m peaking through the blinds before she could finish the thought.

“It’s Bella Swan.” I glance at my mother with raised brows before dashing to the front door.

Swinging it open before her raised fist could knock, “What are you doing here?”

“I uh, I came by to see if you wanted to hang out at the Rez with me today? I’m going to see Jacob if you want to tag along.” She toes her shoe on the corner of our welcome mat as she digs her hands in her jacket, nervous.

“Of course, let me go change! You’re more than welcome to come in while you wait.” I dash up the stairs before she can answer, leaving the door open for her to walk in.

“Isabella Swan! I’m so happy to see you stop by dear!” I sigh as I hear my mom’s over-excited voice drift through the house.

I try to hurry and swap my sweats for jeans before my mom could drill her for more information about last night. I love the woman to death, but her middle name might as well be nosy.

Snagging my current read from my desk after tugging on my ratty pair of chucks, I rush back downstairs.

“Ready!” I call to Bella.

“Thanks for letting her hang with me, Mrs. Y/l/n.” I hear Bella tell my mom before escaping the kitchen.

“Anytime dear, you hardly even have to ask.” My mom winks at me from over Bella’s shoulder and I roll my eyes playfully in response as we head out of the front door.

“Be safe you two! Call if you need anything!” Shouting from the front porch with a smile and a wave, I return the wave once I’m settled in the old red truck.

Turning onto the road, I dive right into my curiosity, “Okay so what’s really going on today?”

“We’re actually going to the Rez, but it’s a surprise.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder to the bed of the truck.

Twisting, I notice something rather large covered with a tarp in the back. “And what is that?”

“Actually, what are those. And they were free, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Drumming her thumbs on the steering wheel to some imaginary beat, I huff and face forwards again.

If I had to go by any indication of what happened last night, this surprise doesn’t bode well.

• Black residence, La Push Indian Reservation •

Reader

Climbing from the old red truck, a tall and tan guy comes running up to meet us. Well - Bella, if his eyes souly trained on her is any indication of his attention.

“Bella! Where the hell have you been loca?” I notice the wide grin on his face causes one to appear on Bella’s, interesting.

Looking over her shoulder after spinning her in a circle, this Jacob guy finally notices me, “And who is this?”

“Oh that’s Y/n Y/l/n, a friend from school. I hope you don’t mind I asked her to tag along?” She finishes sheepishly, but he shakes her concern away and extends a hand towards me.

“Jacob Black, nice to meet you.” He flashes me a much smaller smile as I accept his handshake and nod with a small smile of my own.

“I uh, also brought you something.” Pointing at the tarp-covered-mass in the bed of her truck before flicking up a corner to show us. “It’s a little crazy.”

My eyes widen as I take in the two dirt bikes.

“Wow, scrap metal. You shouldn’t have.” Jacob jokes, already sensing the train wreck this is about to be.

“I saved them from the junkyard.” Glancing between us to measure our looks, “I think they’ll probably cost more to fix than they’re worth, but then I thought that I’d I had a mechanic friend to help me out then-”

“Oh - me, being the mechanic-type friend?” A half-laugh slips out of him as he puts the puzzle pieces together.

“That’s right.”

“Since when are you into motorcycles?” His question takes me back to last night and I play with the drawstrings on my worn hoodie anxiously.

“Since now.” A pause as she assesses him, “I get it if you think this is really stupid. And reckless-”

“It’s completely stupid and reckless.” She visibly deflates at his confirmation.

“Bella, I’m not sure this is the best idea-” but he cuts me off before I finish.

“When do we start?” Both of us snap our eyes to his face, searching for the punchline.

“Um, now! Please?” Bella responds dazed.

“Alright.” Jacob immediately reaches for the first bike to unload our new projects.

“Oh hey, be careful those things are actually-” He lifts them as if they’re toys instead, “Really heavy. Jake, you’re like, buff. How did that happen, you’re like sixteen.”

“Age is just a number baby, what are you like forty now?”

Bella’s eyes immediately meet mine and my breath stutters for a second at the discussion of age, something the both of us are all too aware of.

“Feels like that sometimes.”

We both follow him into the garage around the side of his house as he pushes both bikes inside. Settling onto the old couch behind where Jacob works, I dive into my book while Bella watches him take everything apart.

Over the weekend, Bella drops me off and picks me up again to hang out while Jacob works away at the first bike. It’s comfortable, relaxing and enjoying their company without having to feel like I need to contribute, my presence being all that Bella wants from me.

Soft music drifts from his radio perched nearby, but Bella leans over to switch it off.

“This song's good, you don’t like it?”

“Um, I don’t really… like music anymore, kind of.” Bell’s confession causes me to reread the page I’m on, sadness spilling into my chest and distracting me from the words on the page, because I get it.

“Okay, no more music.” Jacob gets back to cranking on one particularly stubborn bolt and I meet Bella’s eyes over the top of my book, a knowing look passing between us.

We’re two sides of the same sad coin, no matter how you flip it, the outcome is always the same - hurt and anger and denial. There’s no winning anything tossing this coin - it’s the crusty penny that’s forgotten about on a sidewalk somewhere facing tails-up. Nobody wants it because it’s not bringing you good luck and there’s so few people in this world that are the type to stop and flip it over for the next person. That’s what it feels like, watching everyone pass us by as they live life, no one to stop and pick us up.

Except maybe for Jacob, for Bella at least. Meanwhile, I have him in my dreams.

Light knocking echos in the large space, “Yo Jake, you in there?” Two boys emerge from the slightly open door.

“It’s okay, it’s just my boys.” Jacob informs us as he sees us tense at the intrusion.

“Hey Jake.” They both greet their friend while observing us.

“Hey guys, this is Bella,” Directing a hand towards her and then me, “And this is Y/n.” Turning to look at us now, he points at the two newcomers, “That’s Quil and Embry.”

“I’m Quil Atera.” Nodding in our direction, trying to play it cool.

I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle at the obvious flirtation.

“So the bike building story is true?” Quil Atera asks.

“Oh yeah, I taught him everything he knows.” Another giggle threatens to burst at her mock-serious answer.

“What about the part where you’re his girlfriend?”

I immediately choke on my laughter at Bella’s surprise, girlfriend?

“Actually we’re friends.” Bella fires back and I cringe.

“Ooo-burn!” Embry teases.

“Actually, I remember I said she’s a girl and a friend.” Jacob says, trying to cover his blunder with his friends.

“Embry, do you remember him making that distinction?”

“Nope.” Embry pops the ‘p’ to exaggerate the embarrassment.

“So you guys have girlfriends, that’s awesome.”

Jacob immediately busts out laughing at her comeback, “Yeah right, Quil's actually taking his cousin to prom.”

“Oh ouch.” This time I jump in to acknowledge the burn.

“Yeah that’s still alright. You want funny, Black? I’ll give you funny!” Quil launches at Jacob and the two go at it like kids at recess trying to take each other to the ground in a play-fight.

Embry lumbers over to us and we take turns laughing and placing bets on the two rough-housers. It’s starting to feel normal, hanging out with other people again.

Just not the normal I wanted.

• January 17th, 2006 • Ithaca, New York •

Jasper

A soft knock at my bedroom door raises my eyes from my book.

I wasn’t actually reading, it was more of a stare-and-daydream sort of thing. The words weren’t registering on the page, but her eyes were. They filled the gaps between sentences, her smile occupied the margins, her laugh drowned out the page turns.

It was useless trying to think of anything else, she was everywhere I looked. I didn’t have the option of sleep, but I know that wouldn’t be a reprieve either.

“Carlisle and I are going hunting, would you like to join us sweetheart?” Esme’s voice has always been kind and her emotions are even kinder. Patience, hopefulness, and the worst: love and understanding. Those two hurt the worst, understanding felt more like pity and the love? There was only one person’s love I wanted to feel, everyone else’s paled in comparison.

“I’m fine, not hungry.” If my gravely voice didn’t give my lie away, my black eyes certainly did.

Pain, sadness, pity-

Anger flares in my chest at the last one and I’m up from my chair in a flash, turning my gaze away from my adoptive mother and out my window. The split second of anger I felt towards Esme adds another speck of rot to the inside of my chest.

“I-I’m sorry hun, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” Looking over my shoulder, but not quite meeting her eyes, “Enjoy your hunt with Carlisle.”

She’s gone half a second later, her light perfume drifts through my empty room and it makes me regret being short with her.

“The fuck is your deal?” Annoyance seeps from Rosalie in my doorway.

“The fuck is yours, Rose?” Long gone is the southern gentleman I was raised to be as I spin around.

“You. You and Edward. This sulk in my room and refuse to function bullshit!”

“What does it matter to you? You have Emmett, you have everything you want-”

“Stop right there.” Her tone was absolutely lethal and I know why. “You’re throwing her away and forcing everyone else to too-”

“You don’t get to lecture me on her-”

“I can and I will! It’s quite literally tearing this family apart!” Her slender finger pokes the middle of my chest and I temper the urge to snap it.

“Since when do you give a shit about this family?” I sneer back at her.

“I care about how this is eating at the sister I never had growing up. I give a shit about how this is killing the light in my husband’s eyes. I care about how it’s hurting Esme to see two of her sons struggling for no reason. And believe it or not, I care about you and Edward too.” She pauses, eyes flicking between mine, searching. “One fuck up-”

“It wasn’t just a fuck up!” I grip her upper arms and shake her lightly. “I could’ve killed her! I went fucking nuclear and with her there is no room for fuck ups!”

“You’re in love with her.” The realization surprises her.

“It’s more than that.” I drop the hold I have on her and begin pacing.

“Mates?” Now the real shock settles in on my sister.

I don’t stop pacing, letting my silence answer for me.

“Fuck.” Rose’s response is beginning to feel like a summary of my life now.

Next

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[pynkgothicka]

Oc is a famous idol or actress member (doesn’t matter which) is an obsessed fan and kidnaps her

Ｒａｄｉｏ ＰＪＭ

Synopsis - A pop star gets her life destroyed as a fan destroys everything.

Pairing - Dark! Yandere! Fan! Park Jimin x Fem! Pop Star! Reader

Warnings - NON/DUBCON, DRUGGING, acts of violence, OBESSION, STALKING

Authors Note - I finally did a Jimin fic!!?!

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jimin loved you.

It wasn't a fan loving a artist ghey looked up to kind of love. But more so a delusional based love.

He was such a lonely kid, having little to no social interaction outside of school. Even then he only talked to others when it was required of him.

But when you broke into the scene with your angelic voice and bubble pop music. He was just driving around, needing to escape, before hearing your first breakout hit on the radio.

He fell so deeply In love.

He followed you on every social media platform he could find.

He spent hours looking for pictured of you and saving them to a hard drive, getting them laminated and printed whenever he had enough.

Anything you announced a tour or even a singular concert he was there, pouring so much of his lavish parents money into you.

He even spoke to you on multiple occasions.

It was strange, you knew of him and whenever you had fan signs would always recall him and some weird thing he mentioned last time. It was like you almost realized how perfect you and Jimin could be together. Not only that but you ignored what your other fans had said to you. He was often being called somewhat creepy with how much time he dedicated to you.

If anything you talked to him more and even gave him a free pass to your organized fan signing events.

Like right now, as he waited for you for a meet and greet that you'd organized. You'd given him a free pass as you told him, “You always show up any other time, it would be weird to not see you!” He'd added one of the passes to a photo album he had, surrounding it with hearts.

He has so many pictures and posters for you to sign he couldn't contain his excitement. His shakey demeanor scared off the people around him so he willingly stood in the far back.

Being last meant more time spent than the rest with you in his mind. And with his dark brown hair shinning as bright as his smile, he waited patiently for those doors to open.

And when they did he was blessed as you still had on the tight dress you wore on stage. “Hey everyone! I'm so sorry I was late, ya know stage stuff!” You said waving both of your hands to your friends. The room buzzed with excitement, feeding off your presence and aura. Jimin could feel the breath leaving his body as he found himself completely speechless. He'd seen you in real life so many times yet everytime you seemingly got more and more beautiful.

He watched as you sat down and pulled out a pink pen, the color you connected to your star status branding.

“Alrighty! Whose first?”

📻

It was finally his turn and it would be just you and him as your management had left to pack everything up.

“Omg! Is that you Jimin?” You said giving a bright smile to the starstruck boy. You stood up, pushing the chair in and opened your arms to give him a big hug. In which he reciprocated quickly taking in your smell and warmth. His head went straight to your neck and hair, asking in a deep whiff before you pulled away and moved back to the obligatory chair and table.

“So what's been happening with you huh? Talk to me.”

“Umm, nothing much… just ya know listening to you.” You let out a small laugh and began to work on signing everything he brought.

“I'm assuming that means everythings good?”

“Yeah of course!”

“Thats good! As long as your not struggling, I have to care for one of my favorite fans.” You laughed finishing up signing his merch.

Did you just say ONE of your favorite fans?

Jimin felt his hand clench. He thought he meant more to you.

That you would've valued what he offered you more.

He thought he was special?

“Yeah…” But Jimin had to push that back into his mind. This was it. This was the perfect time. He didn't care that he didn't have everything together, he listened to his heart. And his heart was telling him to act now.

“Oh I forgot! I got you a bracelet, it's kind of bulky but its for you!” Jimins voice rose gleefully. But he quickly shut up, face going red as your hand grazed his and you took it. You wrapped it around your wrist, the weaving moving in and out in delicate patterns. Your eyes danced in amazement and you couldn't be more stunned by the gift.

“Did you make this?”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

“Do I like it?! Jimin I love this!” You shot up doing a little twirl. Jimins face glew a bright red and he could feel his pants stiffen as your dress rode up hi the curve of your ass.

“Hey! Its time to go!” Your manager walked into the lobby. You stopped dancing quickly. A deep sigh was let out before you gave Jimin a small smile.

“I have to go, I’m leaving in the morning and ya know hotels are super fun to live in.” You sarcastically commented rubbing at the bracelet on your wrist. “I’ll see you at my next concert I’m assuming?”

“Yes! Of course.” Jimin hurriedly said waving at you enthusicacally.

“Okay… plus my manager is kind of over everything right now so.”

“Yeah…”

“Byee.” You sung and picked up your things and walked towards the suited up woman. Your manager gave Jimin a hard glare as you walkes past her. The door then slammed shut

Jimins hands shot for the pink pen you left behind and he brought it to his nose. That same citrusy scent staining it was well.

Oh God he couldn't wait to have you.

📻

You slammed the curtains shut one more time.

Paparazzi and fans had crowded beneath your suite at the hotel you were staying at. You were on the top floor for gods sake, and yet your team never thought you'd maybe want some privacy?

To say they had your best interest at heart maybe their protection would be a tad bit better.

Even when you had picked up your phone, falling onto the bed, majority of the notifs were from your manager and telling you off about Jimin.

People were so mean to him. It made you feel bad in a way, so why not use your new found influence and power to make someone feel less alone in the world.

You did find it creepy that he went to damn near all your concerts. To you though it was cute, having a fan that dedicated to you. You decided to finally open the slew of texts, having nothing else to do.

Manager: That man is dangerous, why did you hug him?

Manager: I've told you time and time again its time to fill out a restraining order against him. At this point you could possibly get hurt on the route you're going, forget the tabloids, lets just end this as fast as possible.

Manager: Call me.

Nope.

You put your phone back down, that entire one sided conversation giving you a headache. You cant just get a restraining order against someone whose generally done no harm to you. Plus Jimin was so sweet, he really cares about you and that's all you could ask of your fans.

Or at least the ones who respected you.

Needing to take your mind off just about everything happening you went into your kitchen and grabbed a glass of apple juice. You bummed absentmindedly to yourself but was quickly interrupted by a noise coming from near your doorway.

Click

Your head quickly turned around, your body moving across the luxurious suite to the front door. It creaked open slowly and you hid behind a wall. Nobody should be up here. Your entire team had a different hotel to avoid paparazzi, hotel staff were told to leave you alone, hell even the cleaning maids weren't supposed to be near you.

You refused to look and question further as you crouched down and began to crawl across the ground going behind the kitchen island.

Blindly reaching for anything that could protect you, your hand knocked over your empty glass. Shards dug into your knee and hand, and you hissed out. Everything became blurry as you fell out of balance straight to the ground. You then looked up and made direct eye contact with Park Jimin.

Fuck, you should've listened.

“Hi baby.”

You didnt stay around as you used your opposing knee to get up and use the island as leverage. “Jimin no one is suppos-”

“I'm taking you somewhere nice baby…’’

This is was not how you were going to die. This just can't be it.

You pushed yourself off the island and flung past him and bolted to the window. But Jimin was quicker, as he seized your wrist and pulled you back. Your body hit the ground but Jimin grabbed the back of your head, taking his other arm and digging into his back pocket.

He pulled out a rag and you'd seen enough movies to know where this led. Jimin began to smuggle you with a rag, the sickly sweet smell taking you away. Your eyes became blurred and the last thing you felt was a pair of lips meet your forehead.

📻

You came too handcuffed to a bed. The mattress had no sheets, and was dirty, reeking of moth balls. In fact the entire room reeked of old cardboard. It reminded you of your grandma's house.

The cuffs dug into your skin as you tugged to no avail. The headboard began to bang with each tug, letting anyone in the house know you were up.

And you did alert one person.

Jimin walked through the door frame holding a bowl of soup. “Hi baby. You really had me scared for a second there, that I ya know … used too much.” He lamented putting the bowl on the night stand next to you. You just watched him, his every move. He moved with such haste and grace.

“Now give me your hand, I need to see if everything is begining to heal.” He gave you no time to be hesitant as he took your wrist gently. You hadn't even realized he patched it up, soft cotton bandages covering your hand and knee. Jimin got to work, slowly unwrapping, and looking at the small cuts in your hand. “Its beginning to look better already. I need to get that knee now.”

“Jimin?” You finally muster up, watching as he reached for the spoon in the bowl of soup. He let out a low hum as he took a spoonful to your mouth. You took it in, still watching him.

“Why did you do all this?”

“I did it for us silly. Can't you see how better things could be… well not now but it can and will be better.” Jimin rambled feeding you another spoon as he was talking.

“Jimin I have a life … a career… this. This is just a weird fucking crush…”

“No baby. I've seen how you talk to me compared to others. You weren't happy with that pop star life so I'm giving you a different life. A better life.”

You took another spoon in and furrowed your brows. “But I can't disappear… I need to go back.”

“No you don't. Lets just finish the soup, you only have a few bites left.”

“Bu-”

“Your making this difficult… Stop saying all that!” He yelled slamming this hand on the nightstand.

“It's the truth! You cant just kidnap a fucking popstar and think that your gonna get away with it.” You kept going, pushing his limit. You assumed that if you pushed him just far enough he would get aggravated with you and just throw you out.

But Jimin wasn't aggravated. He took in a deep breath and stood up taking the soup. “I'm going to give you some space, you need to come to terms with everything. And us being in the same room isn't helping that.” And with that Jimin left leaving you yelling and crying in anguish.

📻

Jimin moved you downstairs after a few weeks. Months? You stopped counting after a while and just accepted your fate. Jimins hands rubbed at your hair, as he watched another movie he'd pop into his VHS player.” Your hair is so soft baby… and you still have that citrus scent to you.” Jimin fawned over you. But you smiled at him, while being held captive you guessed you became used to Jimin and realizing that he was all you had.

“Jimin why isn't there anything new…?” You mumbled into your captors stomach, his hand going back into your hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Like new furniture and stuff.

“I thrifted everything baby. I don't really have the funds for new right now.”

“I had that money… in my old life.”

“Stop bringing that up. We talked about how I feel about the past.”

“Why? You can't face what you did?” You sat up instantly beginning to get mad with him again. Just pretending that everything is alright isn't what you want to do anymore. You were about to get up but was stopped as your wrist yanked back reminding you, and placing you back in square one. “But it's fine. Everything is fine.”

“I can tell your bitter still and I'm sorry but what's done is done. And all I want to do is look ahead.” Jimin lamented closing his legs to rest your head again. And you did, docile as ever. You almost damn near fell asleep until a hand landed on your hip.

You jumped up in shock, handcuff tugging at your wrist. Jimin slipped down onto the ground in front of you, looking up at you with such wide, lustful eyes. “J-Jimin what are you-”

“Shhhh. Let me take your mind off things, just moan with that pretty voice when I'm doing something right.” His hands went to the soft pajama bottoms he'd put on you that morning and tugged them down. You felt a cool breeze hit your clit, a newfound wetness forming. His right thumb went to your bud and pushed down, moving in slow circular motions. Your breathing got caught in your throat as he added a tongue along side his movement.

“Jimin… Jim- Please!” You screamed as his tongue jabbed inside of you, licking your walls. It all felt so good, and you didnt know if you could hide it anymore. Your hand went to the back of his head and pushed him further into you chasing that high. You wanted to feel something, you just had too.

Finally you were hit with that white light. Your came all over Jimins face and he drunk it up, starved for your touch.

He stood up, cock in hand as he jerked himself to completion. “Open wide baby.” With his other hand he grabbed at your chin and stuck his thumb into your mouth pressing down. You began to choke as he moved his tip closer to your awaiting mouth. And with a final whine he shot his load onto your tongue, kissing you afterwards, making sure you swallowed it all.

“I'm so glad I'm the only one who ever gets to hear you from now on. Your voice is so much fucking better when your moaning.”

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Teenage Wasteland

On the sixth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A steamy Christmas Resort meet cute with praise kink!Sammy!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Snowflakes of Love" by Toni Braxton

Trope: Christmas Resort

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, praise kink

Words: 2.8k

Author's Note: Sorry it's late tonight... I had such a fierce craving for melted cheese that I grappled with myself about ordering some cheese sticks forever before I gave into the craving, and that took some time off my hands. Whoops! Here you go, though, and I hope everyone who's planning on watching the concert tonight has fun!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

If there was ever a time that you were glad your mother seemed to have partied herself into someone else’s bed, it was now. Because somehow, someway, you'd managed to party the sexiest man you’d ever seen into yours. And if there had been someone in your shared room, you wouldn’t have his lips at your throat, his hands sliding up your dress to your breasts, or his rock hard cock against your hip as you tugged him into the room.

And that would have been the biggest damn tragedy you’d ever experienced.

“Thank god she’s not here,” you sighed, leading him to the bed in a way you hoped didn’t reveal just how desperate you were to feel him on your skin. “We’d have had to fuck in a storage closet if she was.”

He chuckled, precisely undoing what few buttons were connecting his shirt, and then gently put his hand over yours as you struggled with your dress zipper. “I’d have done it anywhere, anytime. All you had to do was say the words,” he purred, taking over for you. 

 Sam. He’d said his name was Sam.

…

Being pushed into a stranger’s arms was something that had its merits, at times. Like in movies, where a strong, sexy firefighter catches you as you’re pushed into the street. Or when it was a billionaire playboy just destined to fall for you.

But when it was very reminiscent of a scene from “High School Musical,” and all eyes were on you as the DJ felt the need to point out that no one had asked you to dance as the clock counted down to Christmas – no. This was not one of those times.

The only thing keeping you from bolting the second attentions were turned away was the fact that the man you’d been pushed into was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever been close enough to touch. 

That fact was the one that had you chuckling, uncharacteristically hesitant, as your partner moved into position, fumbling a little bit with hand placement at first but quickly getting into the swing of things. “Um…sorry that you were pressured into this, it was a real dick move of the DJ,” you scoffed, voice a little small and insecure.

But the man just stared at you, confusion twisting his mouth into a slight smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice happy and welcoming and warm. “The DJ’s my main man Danny – I asked him to do this.”

You felt your face heat under the festive red and green spotlights swinging around the room. “Wha-- wait, really?” 

Doubt poured out of every pore in your body, it seemed, and the handsome stranger took his hand from yours to cross his heart. “I’m being totally serious. I couldn’t let a pretty thing like you walk away without a partner,” he flirted, coming in close enough that you could smell his cologne.

'Expensive' was what it smelled like.

“Well,” you responded, relaxing a bit in the lowering tensions. Something about this man was strangely comfortable. “Here I am, stranger.”  There was no harm in flirting back a little, right? It was one of the last days you had at the resort - you could live what precious days you had left of your teenage years out in true 'teen dream' fashion.

“Hopefully not for long," the man said, leading you around the dance floor in a simple step-and-rock. "My name is Sam, and I think this Christmas, Santa might have actually put me on the nice list for once.”

…

“You work wonders with that little mouth of yours,” Sam groaned, hand laced through your hair as you bobbed up and down on his dick. Every time you hit a good spot with a wet swipe of your tongue, he jerked; not up into your mouth, though – almost away from your mouth. “Don’t make me cum too soon, pretty thing, I have to wrap the gift before I give it.”

You had to pull off to giggle, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. “Your dick’s a gift now, huh? I think,” you said, demurely crawling up his thin body, “that maybe I should be the judge of that.”

Sam’s hands wandered up and down your curves as you kissed him, hot and heavy and deep. It felt like you were finally getting that moment that all the coming of age films put in the minds of impressionable pre-teens: a party, a handsome stranger, a sloppy makeout session, and the promise of more all as you kept glancing towards the door to make sure your Mom didn’t come back.

“Condom’s in my wallet,” Sam panted, breaking away from your red, swollen lips after searching every inch your mouth had to offer with his tongue. After getting up so that he could retrieve it and put it on, he crawled over you, his long, beautiful hair curtaining you both from the impersonal décor of the resort room. “But I bet I can prove it to you,” he said, in what was supposed to be arrogance, you thought, but the slight shake and nervous voice crack gave you the idea that despite his beauty, he either didn’t do this much or was a little bit on the inexperienced side.

When his fingers met your core, though, and delved into you before hooking and stroking like he’d crafted each nerve himself– there was nothing inexperienced about this skill of his at all.

…

“It’s just me, my older sister and my uncle here,” Sam said, lowering himself into the hot tub in just his boxers. Neither of you had wanted to take the trip to get your swimsuits, so you decided to risk being caught and just stripped to your underwear, not even trying to hide the fact that you were both looking as the other took off their clothes. “My twin older brothers were supposed to come, too, but then they– well, it’s not important what they did, but my parents grounded them.”

“Wait,” you said, brow furrowing. “How old are you? How old are they?” You didn’t want to accidentally prey on someone under 18 just because they looked older than you.

Sam gave a little quirk of a smile. “I’m 19, they’re 22. But they weren’t about to tell my mom and dad to fuck off.”

That was a relief to hear. About his age - although you supposed it was also a good thing that his brothers still listened to their parents, too. “It’s my mom and I,” you replied, going back to the original conversation. “Her girlfriends all pitched in and got her and I this trip as a Christmas gift. And my mom needed a vacation.” You thought back to the year behind you and some of the trials and tribulations you’d both gone through, but specifically her, and wondered if they were really something that should be shared with a complete stranger. Especially one who was obviously down for some extended nighttime activities, from how he’d been flirting.

“Something on your mind?”

You blinked back to the present and chuckled, shaking the thoughts off. “It’s nothing. So you said you’re in a band, huh? Any good?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and you wondered if they’d been successful at all or not – he still loved doing it, so it seemed. “I dunno, ask our Grammy.”

…

As Sam’s hips pistoned in and out of you, you let out a quiet mewl every time he pushed in to the hilt. His breaths were even more labored, and he was panting like a dog into your neck while he pawed at your tits and grabbed at your hips for more purchase, like he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to use his hands for first.

You stood by your earlier theory, that maybe he didn’t have quite as much experience as that cocky facade was there to make you think he did, but the sex was good, he had more than enough length and girth to keep you stretched out and filled up, and you could see your orgasm on the horizon.

So, even though he didn’t seem to need it, you dug into your little box of kinks you had and began to let out praises and encouragement, excited to see what kind of reaction they’d get you. With your lips at his ear, you said, “God, Sam, you fill me up so well. They say if they’re hot, they can’t fuck, but they’ve clearly never met you.”

Sam’s grip tightened on you and he whined, his hips picking up speed. But he was a rockstar; it really wasn’t a surprise that he craved attention and validation from others. He readjusted his position and flipped your around to your hands and knees, slipping and sliding around a bit when he tried to re-enter you from behind. “I wouldn’t be half as good of a fuck if this pussy wasn’t made to take my cock.” He found purchased and didn't hold back like he had the first time.

You groaned and hung your head low, letting your body shake with each thrust into you and desperately hoping that these walls were thick enough for the sake of your neighbors. “Tonight it was,” you agreed, brushing off the fact that you’d likely never see him again after. “Oh shit, Sam, right there– yes, fuck, you’ve got it! Keep hitting me right there and I’ll cum for you,” you promised readily, knowing that you would if he kept catching your g-spot like that. “All over that perfect cock, pretty boy.”

Your plea was low and your promise sincere, but Sam wanted more. “Yeah? How good am I making you feel?” He was shamelessly fishing for more compliments, and you were more than glad to give them.

“Well, I’m about to cum, if that answers it,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Not very many men can make me cum from just their cock alone.”

With a boost of confidence, Sam set his sights on that goal and used your shoulder as a handle to pull you back with, hitting deeper than he had before. It was enough to put you teetering on the edge, and if he could just hold off for a few more well-placed thrusts, you’d fall. “You call me pretty, you make me feel like a sex-god – I don’t know where you’re from, but I’m following you there,” he murmured, his bony, callused fingers digging in harder as his rhythm faltered for a second, then picked up again. 

“You’re so pretty, Sam,” you said honestly. 

He seemed to really like all your affirmations, and this time, they were all true – which wasn’t something you could say for all the men you’d been with. There had been times you praised and flattered them just so that you could get yourself off afterwards, since all men were suckers for compliments. 

Sam, though, hit all your checkmarks and then some. He hummed out something that sounded vaguely like, “More,” but the toll of exertion garbled it.

Either way, you were only more than happy to say ‘more.’ “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe you’re in my bed tonight. The faces you make, even how you–" you were interrupted by a flash of pleasure as he did something with his hips that was no beginner's move, "--how you look fucking sweating– god, I could look at you forever.” Sam’s hips jerked directly into your g-spot then, and it was all you needed to arch your back and gasp, quickly reaching down to circle your clit and extend the orgasm that overtook you. Sam let out a strangled moan from behind you and, with a few more uneven thrusts, buried himself deep inside of you and pulsed, filling up the condom he’d donned. 

As both of you caught your breaths, you shakily lowered yourself down to your forearms and Sam followed, trying to chase the warmth of your cunt that he didn’t seem quite ready to leave, yet. You felt his weight settle on top of you, and the pressure across your body felt…really nice. Like an extra-weighted blanket that kissed your neck and had a hummingbird heartbeat that you could feel where it was pressed to your shoulder blade.

“I’m gonna have to leave soon, aren’t I?” he said softly, dread clear in his tone.

You chuckled from underneath him. “Maybe. But not right now. Right now, you stay right where you are.”

He listened readily, even if he did eventually pull away to take the condom off and hide it in a piece of toilet paper. When he returned, he sat next to you instead of climbing back on top, and you missed his warmth, but you were also tuckered out, and once Sam started trailing his hand up and down your spine, you didn’t know you’d fallen asleep until you woke up, alone in the room.

The door slipped shut – you figured that was what woke up, and the dark shape that turned out to be your mom whispered, “Sorry!” as you sat up, a different name than hers on your lips.

Oh well. It was bound to happen, so you didn’t let the fact that Sam had left without a goodbye keep you from returning to sleep. After you dragged yourself up and to the bathroom, because a UTI was enough to keep you from sleeping again, wrapped in the blanket you’d brought and hoping that your mom didn’t know you were naked underneath it as you passed each other in the room.

…

Considering that you were the one that was supposed to be jumpy after a night out, you found your mom’s behavior strange the next morning at breakfast. Restless, searching, and barely touching her plate, you raised your brows as she acted like a kid on Christmas. Which was apt, considering that it was Christmas. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking towards the door where she’s fixed her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I just…met someone last night?”

A smile spread out across your lips. Because it definitely hadn’t been obvious this morning when she came in smelling like a man, and that thought wiped the smile right off your lips. Because if you could smell her date’s cologne…then shit.

“That’s cool,” you replied mildly. The last thing you wanted to do was give off the impression that you expected anything from her, whether that be a committed relationship or for her to be celibate until she died. She deserved happiness in whichever form it found her, and you weren’t going to let her worry for you ruin anything. 

She smiled, then, real big and genuine. “There he is! Act cool, act cool!” 

“You’re the one freaking out!” you giggled, ducking away with your toast as she batted at you. Turning your head to look over your shoulder in order to see her mystery man, you cocked it with what little neck movement you had left. You didn’t know him, that was for sure. Never seen him before in your life. But something about him was…familiar. 

He greeted you mom with a big smile as well and a smooth kiss to her cheek when she stood up to give him a quick, bashful hug, sneaking in glances at you as she did. “Y/N…this is Joe.”

Not to be taken lightly, you stood up – still shorter than the stranger, but trying to impose your presence by being the first to put your hand out. “Hi, Joe.”

The man looked at you with a glint in his eye that you could have sworn you’d seen somewhere else. The TV? An ad? Who knew, but it was making your eye twitch that you didn’t have an answer. 

“Hello, Y/N – I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” He only grinned at your posturing on him. “My niece and nephew were getting ready in their room when I left, so they should be coming in a few minutes. They’re about your age, I think.” You nodded, still not breaking eye contact with this ‘Joe’ guy. “So that…you know, you won’t have to be stuck in our boring, adult-conversation world.”

Satisfied that you’d at least made him stutter, you smiled sweetly at him. “Right. Taxes and all, huh?” and sat down right as he let out a booming laugh that ended with, “There’s the sleeping beauties! Y/N, my Darling Date,” he said, motioning to your mom, who blushed at the name, “this is my niece, Ronnie, and my nephew, Sam.”

Your head nearly snapped backwards, and your mom moved in to shake their hands – sure enough, it was the beautiful boy who’d snuck out of your room just a few hours before and a girl that shared some of the exact same features that you also picked out on their uncle, and he was grinning like the sun had taken refuge in a puppy dog that had been turned into a human by a fairy or some shit.

While your mom cooed over his sister, you stood up so that you were face to face with Sam. He didn’t take his eyes of yours as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. I’m Sam, and I think Santa finally put me on the nice list this year.”

~~~

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[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

Friends episode 1.11 "The One With Mrs. Bing"

A quality I’ve been noticing a lot lately in content that I enjoy is an intimacy between artist and audience. The illusion that we really truly know these people with a certain amount of depth is what hooks us. It’s the thing that creates fandoms and births groupies, but it’s also the reason we buy concert tickets and make a standing appointment with our favorite shows. And I’d even go so far as to say that that intimacy isn’t an illusion. If someone really is pouring themselves into their work, and they’re good at it, I think anyone who’s there to see it will probably have an important understanding of that person. So, your favorite artists may not know you, but you do know them.

I think that’s why Chandler resonated with people so strongly. I may be biased, but I also spent a lot of time in the Friends fandom, and he really was the fan favorite. The entire cast was of course a strong ensemble who made their characters their own, but I don’t think any of them identified with their role as much as Matthew Perry. He says in his memoir that he was Chandler and Chandler was him, but I think we knew that already. Everything from his clothes to the cadence of his speech is instantly identifiable, funny, endearing, and real.

Matthew Perry and Matt LeBlanc in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

My favorite episodes of Friends (and of most comedies) are the ones that get as close to drama as a sitcom can get, and I’ve noticed that Chandler is almost always at the center of the show’s most emotional moments. When Chandler kisses Joey’s sister, his repentance is so sincere. When Chandler finally admits his love for Monica, tears of laughter turn to tears of endearment in a literal split second; Ross and Rachel make you say, “oh my God”, Monica and Chandler make you say “awwww”.

And as early as season one, a sole episode featuring Chandler’s mom carries more depth and character development than a decade with the Gellers. Chandler’s mother, Nora Bing, is a bestselling erotica novelist. She’s introduced in this episode as the gang forces a begrudging Chandler to watch Nora’s appearance on Jay Leno. Two episodes prior, we heard Chandler’s first recounting of his Thanksgiving horrors (we’ll come to be very familiar with the tale): at nine years old, Chandler’s parents sat him down at the end of Thanksgiving dinner and told him they were getting a divorce- his father is having an affair with the pool boy.

Right after admitting on national TV that sex makes her crave Kung Pao Chicken, Nora excitedly tells Leno that she’s heading to New York tomorrow and will get to see her son. Chandler declares, without surprise, “And this is how I find out. Most moms use the phone.” Seconds later, Nora is explaining the depths of her love for her son by stating that she bought him his first condoms. Summing up how every parent makes their kid feel, though probably not to this extent, Chandler says: “And then he burst into flames.”

Matthew Perry, Courteney Cox, David Schwimmer, Lisa Kudrow, and Jennifer Aniston in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

In one short, funny scene we understand a surprising number of layers to Chandler’s character. Nora was sincere when stating her love and excitement about seeing her son. Ross- the only one who knows her- declared that he loves Chandler’s mom. Rachel gushed that she is a huge fan of Nora’s books. Despite their bizarre dynamic, Chandler has to endure everyone else loving his mom and telling him to relax, something he really does try to do.

He brings the whole gang out to dinner with his mom- including Paolo, which is generous of Nora.

NORA: I am famished… what do I want?

CHANDLER: Please God don’t let it be Kung Pao Chicken.

NORA: Oh, you watched the show! What’d you think?

CHANDLER: Well, I think you need to come out of your shell juuuust a little.

But he says it all with a smile, dropping a kiss on his mom’s cheek. And then hops right on board as she orders tequila shots for the whole table. It’s a strange dynamic, and a comical one, but also one that now feels real. Matthew Perry’s performance turns this punchline of a premise into something more: what would a person with this upbringing really be like?

Matthew Perry and Morgan Fairchild in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

Towards the end of dinner, Ross has gotten good and drunk on Nora’s tab. Rachel and Paolo are driving him up the wall. He runs into Nora after coming out of the bathroom- the women’s bathroom, he realizes, when a woman steps out a few seconds after him. He’s down, out of it, and Nora knows it’s about Rachel. She comforts him, promising that Paolo isn’t the kind of character that sticks around. Rachel will be turning to him in no time.

This seems to help, but suddenly the two are leaning into each other, kissing a real kiss. And who’s headed for the bathroom now but Joey, who sees them and stammers in shock that he’s gonna go pee in the street. Ross and Nora separate and sigh that sigh that’s old sitcom speak for “fuck”.

David Schwimmer and Morgan Fairchild in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

The next day, Ross tries to get away with never telling Chandler what happened. Joey hasn’t told him, but he tells Ross that he has to- and takes offense to the suggestion that his own mom isn’t as tempting as Nora Bing (“I’ll have you know that Gloria Tribbiani was a very handsome woman in her day, alright? You think it’s easy giving birth to seven children?”).

Ross at first tries to claim that Paolo kissed his mom, which has Chandler in enough shock already, but finally Ross exclaims that it was him, getting real anger out of Chandler. “You know, of all my friends, no one knows the crap I go through with my mom more than you.” Ross tries to apologize, but Chandler leaves, slamming the door.

Later, at Central Perk, Ross tries again:

ROSS: Chandler, can I just say something? I know you’re still mad at me, I just wanna say that there were two people there that night. Okay? Two sets of lips.

CHANDLER: Yes, well, I expect this from her. She’s always been a Freudian nightmare.

ROSS: Okay, well, if she always behaves like this, why don’t you say something?

CHANDLER: Because it’s complicated. It’s complex- hey, you kissed my mom!

Other coffee drinkers turn to look. Ross declares to the coffee house that they’re rehearsing a Greek play. Typically the kind of joke Chandler himself would make, he doesn’t even crack a smile.

CHANDLER: That’s very funny. We done now?

ROSS: No! You mean you’re not gonna talk to her? You’re not gonna tell her how you feel?

CHANDLER: That would be a no. Look, just because you played tonsil tennis with my mom doesn’t mean you know her. Alright? Trust me, you can’t talk to her.

Chandler then comes close to breaking Ross’s finger, but even if he’s not admitting it now, Ross has said something significant. While it’s the biggest betrayal coming from Ross, this isn’t an isolated incident on Nora’s part. It’s a not-so-funny symptom of the overarching mother/son dynamic that has been comically displayed until now.

Matthew Perry and David Schwimmer in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

Back up at the apartment, Chandler is saying his goodbyes to Nora. She brought copies of her book for the rest of the gang and asks if Chandler wants anything from Lisbon. On the surface, they have a playful banter, and he takes things in stride. But finally, as she’s walking out the door, he stops holding it in: “You kissed my best Ross! … or something to that effect.”

She knows it’s not good. She steps back inside and gently closes the door. She apologizes, they agree that it was stupid, and she promises it’ll never happen again. And when she asks if they’re okay now, he starts to say yes… but then he says no. The kiss got his attention, but it’s the tip of the iceberg.

In the hallway, Ross approaches to find Joey listening at the door. We can hear Chandler and Nora’s muted yelling. Excitedly, Joey says “He did it! He told her off, and not just about the kiss, about everything!” They’re good friends, honestly. They give him grief and find Nora fun, but clearly Ross isn’t the only one who knows there’s more to the story.

Then, the screaming match is over and Chandler walks Nora down the hall. She asks if he’s okay and he says yes. She kisses his cheek, and after a formal “Mrs. Bing”, “Mr. Geller” between her and Ross, she’s gone. And Chandler and Ross are alone.

CHANDLER: Hey.

ROSS: You mean that?

CHANDLER: Yeah, why not. I told her.

ROSS: Yeah? How’d it go?

CHANDLER: Awful. Awful. Couldn’t have gone worse.

ROSS: Well, how do you feel?

CHANDLER: Pretty good! I told her.

The two shake hands, and Chandler smiles big, throwing an arm over Ross’s shoulder.

Chandler has the zaniest backstory of the group (except for maybe Phoebe), yet he’s somehow the most whole, the most down to earth. You can connect the dots between the life story that exists off screen and the choices he makes in front of us. And could you even fathom anyone else playing Chandler Bing?

Matthew Perry in "The One With Mrs. Bing".

There was just something special there. Matthew Perry had that “x factor”, as they say, although I think that x factor really is the ability to make strangers feel like they know you. He did it everywhere, and I think we all really liked the guy we got to know. If, like me, you’re looking to watch the best of Chandler Bing in the wake of Matthew’s passing, here are some others to add to your queue: episode 2.03 “The One Where Heckles Dies”, episode 4.08 “The One With Chandler in a Box”, and episode 5.14 “The One Where Everybody Finds Out”.

Among many other things, I also highly recommend his book Friends, Lovers, and the Big, Terrible Thing, his movie The Whole Nine Yards, and his show Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, which I’ll be back here with sometime soon. And if you’re having any Matthew Perry related thoughts or feelings, I’d love to hear about them! This one is very close to my heart.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Meteor Shower (Part 5)

The streets of Magix are agitatingly crowded today. Icy stuffs her hands into her pockets and sulks her way over to the Witch's Cauldron cafe. She takes one look through the window and scoffs. How could she have forgotten; it is a weekend and they have scheduled their Melancholy Melodies Karaoke Day for today. 

She is in no mood to hear dreadful covers ruin perfectly good music. She has had enough terrible music for one day, that is for certain. And so, giving the nearest rock a good kick, she carries on down the sidewalk. Off to her left she hears the rock collide with either a sign pole or a lamppost, she doesn’t turn to check to see which. 

She keeps walking until she finds an ice cream parlor that isn’t overcrowded. She orders herself one scoop of mint chocolate chip, one scoop of fruit yogurt, and one scoop of dark chocolate. Yes, that will do just fine to take her through a trying day. She finds herself a seat and manages to make it halfway through one scoop before she is met with an encounter that is surely going to require at least one more scoop of ice cream.

“Well fancy seeing you here, bestie!” Bloom greets. “How’s my favorite, dastardly arch nemesis doing?”

A scoop of  vanilla ice cream that she will pour a bit Galliano over, at this rate. Icy massages her temples. “If you call me ‘bestie’ one more time, I swear…” She jabs her spoon into the dark chocolate scoop.

“Ooo, what flavors do you have?”

“Well let’s see, there are three; none of, your, and business.”

“Oh! ‘Your’ is my favorite flavor. I don’t care for ‘business though, it tastes kind of plain. Like if ice cream was made of water.”

Oh yes…this conversation is definitely going to warrant at least one more scoop of ice cream and perhaps a little more than just a touch of Galliano. “What do you want, Peters?”

Bloom shrugs. “Just going for a little stroll. “Trying to find people who can fill in for us since The Specialists couldn’t make it to this tour.” 

Icy rolls her eyes. “Apparently it’s trendy for openers to drop out at the last minute these days.” She realizes much too late that she had done her grumbling out loud. A mistake that she regrets very swiftly.

“Oh you’re also looking for an opening act.” Bloom says. “Maybe…”

Icy sniffs. “As if. The Trix aren’t an opening act. We’re the headliner.”

“I was thinking of more of a duo headline type of tour. Think about it!” She wiggles her fingers, a starburst for extra pizzazz. “A fairy band with a witch band, it almost never happens.”

“Well yes, because when it does happen it is almost always a disaster. Nobody wants to try it because…”

“Because everyone is afraid to take risks.”

“Because every decade has had exactly one witch-fairy collaboration that completely flopped. I’ve taken enough risks for one tour season and have no intention of joining the ranks of those who’ve embarrassed themselves out of the industry.”

“Yeah okay but consider this; this one can pay off! We’re currently the two biggest bands in Magix. Plus we’ll have intrigue on our side, people will want to know how a witch and fairy collaboration will go. And both of our bands will get twice as many audience members. The Winx might even acquire some witch fans and The Trix might acquire some fairy…”

“Do you think that I want glittery little faeries listening to my music? We don’t need little faeries flouncing about our night clubs wearing eye-burning colors with their uppity, dancy attitudes or worse, posers who think that they’re goth because they listened to our music once at a concert that they only attended because…”

“Are you really going to gatekeep your music in a time like this!?”

“I’ll gatekeep my music whether it’s to my advantage or disadvantage.” Icy folds her arms across her chest. “Unlike some of my bandmates, I’d rather put this band in a pretty little coffin and bury it six feet deep than let it become another generic radio band.” She pauses. “Our fashion, our scene, our aesthetics—what’s the point in any of it if it gets watered down by the same industries that produce…” she gestures to the various magazine covers in shop windows, the ones that have the same pretty pale models with button noses and big bright eyes, the pretty tans and the smooth skin, the long legs and perfectly slim hourglass figures. They all look the same, they all apply their makeup the same way. She gestures to the billboards and posters featuring bands who all sound the same, copy and pasted with some subtle subversion–maybe a slightly different pitch or a slightly faster tempo. “There’s no originality, it’s all perfectly arranged to be as palpable and easy to sell as possible. If we let just anyone into our clubs then our lifestyle will become just another trend, a silly fad that is milked by capitalist corporations for until there’s nothing left of what it once was.”

“Well aren’t you edgy, pretentious, and intellectual?” Bloom shoots her that goofy, lopsided grin.

“Ugg, whatever. You just don’t…”

“Understand you? Nobody knows what it’s like to be a big, scary witch!?”

Icy rolls her eyes. “I was going to say that you don’t understand the intricacies of the goth lifestyle and the importance of individuality. Your band is the embodiment of easily marketable music with no depth or…”

And now the fairy is cackling. The clutching her sides, loud with a snort sort of laugh. “We write our own material, you know. Just because it’s perky and fun, doesn’t mean that it lacks passion.” She argues. “We like to write songs that can be danced to. Life is hard enough, right? Maybe we want to write music that can make people smile and learn to have fun again.”

“Great, you can continue to make your generic pop music for fun and I’ll keep writing my depressing, scary music with depth. Our worlds can’t and shouldn’t intersect.”

Bloom hisses. 

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just that I just got cut on all of that edge.” There’s that ridiculous grin again. “Anyways, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Do your friends even know that you’ve decided to try to recruit me!?” Being taken so far aback puts a touch of shrillness to her demand. But the fairy keeps on walking. Walking as though she hadn’t just posed the most preposterous proposal. Icy groans to herself and jabs her spoon into the mint chocolate chip scoop.

.oOo.

She has grown withdrawn and maybe that is what Valtor had wanted. It makes things easier for him. Kyanite attends MeTor practice and leaves. Diamond tries to speak with her but she can’t get it out of her head; “There’s nothing to be jealous of! You only got that part because Nebula is proud of you for finally losing weight. It’s like a reward for achieving something that the rest of us already have!” 

Her stomach flutters and her throat tightens. Diamond is speaking, something about not meaning what she said the other day, but Kyanite only hears that very comment. The one that has been in her head all day. The one that she keeps in her mind when breakfast looks particularly good.

Diamond is all smiles and compliments now. 

She has always been that way. Has always made carless and  cutting comments just to pretend like it hadn’t happened later.

“Sure, Diamond.” She says quietly. She doesn’t even know what she is agreeing with but Diamond looks pleased. 

“Great, I’m glad that we can move on from this. I was really, really worried that you would hate me forever.” 

Kyanite swallows hard. “I couldn’t do that.” But she sure wishes that she could. It would make things so much easier if she could hate Diamond.

Diamond who gives her back a pat. Kyanite flinches but Diamond doesn’t notice. “Let’s have a great practice. I think that your new role will start to feel more natural the more that you run through it. Chalcedony mentioned that I shouldn’t be angry with you because you didn’t even want to be the lead dancer in that video. And that you were actually pretty uncomfortable…”

“But would you be angry with me if I did want that part?”

This brings her babbles to a halt. “I…no? I don’t think so.” She frowns and her brows furrow. “I think that…” She sighs. “You were right, Kya. I was jealous.  I…I’ve always wanted my own solo project, that was my dream. And you never wanted the attention. And I kept asking myself, ‘why her, why does she get my dream?’ It isn’t fair.” She pauses. “I guess that that sounds pretty bad too doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Kyanite agrees.“It kind of does.” 

Diamond cringes. True to her blunt nature, she carries on anyhow. “I thought for sure that Valtor would choose me. He approached me first, you know?”

Kyanite furrows her brows.

“Yeah, he saw my photoshoot for the Shining Night album and he said that I would be the perfect face of his new project. A cold, glimmering star. A cutting, frigid beauty with a wicked edge that could really capture attention.” She sighs. “And then he saw you.”

“Yeah.” Kyanite replies. What else is she to say? 

“You’re really lucky, Kya. And, I think that what makes me so mad…upset? Frustrated? Is that you don’t even seem to appreciate everything Valtor is giving you.”

She has no idea that Valtor likes to take as he gives. 

A popularity and fame for freedom; she can no longer do her hair the way that she likes, can no longer partake in her ‘embarrassing’ hobbies or enjoy her ‘bizzare’ interests.

A flattering dress for delight; if she smiles the wrong way she is ruining her image. If she is too cheerful then she is acting too much like the old, shy and forgettable her.

A great body for comfort; who cares if her stomach aches, if she gets dizzy now and then. She looks great. Who cares if it is becoming a habit, “it is for the best anyways.”

A #1 hit single for a soul; sometimes she feels hollow. Like she is vacant inside, just a vessel for an industry that is keen on eating girls like her alive—milking them for all they’re worth and then discarding them when they find someone prettier and more talented.

Perhaps if she knew what it was like to be Valtor’s star, she wouldn’t envy it so much.

Kyanite wishes she could go back. 

She wishes that he would have chosen Diamond instead. 

What a horrid thing to wish upon her own friend.

[amplifyme]

@randomfoggytiger

Let's dive into The Rest Is Silence.

Vincent losing command over himself and running his body to the limit and sweating and tearing himself apart trying to contain the Other was fantastic to watch.

I know I keep repeating myself, but Perlman was so good in these eps and the ones that follow. He really hit his stride. And not just him, the whole cast nailed it in S3.

Waking in the park, getting around Mary (who cannot read subtext for the life of her) to get to Father and his comfort and guidance, and pouring at his desperation and fear was an excellent way to start.

In defense of Mary, she assumed she was talking to the Vincent she'd always known. I think the assumption most of those Below had was that the danger Paracelsus posed was gone and now things would go back to normal. Vincent would go back to being the Vincent they knew. I think Father was the only one with a clue that all was not well. Especially when V told him he'd woken up in the park and had no idea how he'd gotten there. The symptoms V was experiencing echoed those of the illness he'd suffered before.

As an aside, the expression on V's face when F asserts that there's nothing terrible in him kills me! That's a "WTF are you taking about??" face. It was a rather odd thing for F to say, though I chalk it up to more of avoiding the uncomfortable realities, as was the norm for them.

Seeing the world through Vincent's eyes as he worsens was also fantastic;

And just the way he looked! He was barely holding himself together. When he goes to join C for the concert he's visibly disheveled, which is so not normal for him. And that howl that escapes him and how freaked out he is that C saw him that way and was frightened.

I love how he progressively loses himself more and more as the ep goes on. His appearance changes, his speech patterns change - he struggles to speak at all - he has this constant crazed/dazed look in his eyes. He's trying so hard to be what C and his family have come to expect from him and he just can't do it anymore. I've always found it interesting that after he's found the book with the lines he was looking for, he immediately heads for C's, not having a clue that she's still Below and in F's study. Which is something he should know, what with the bond. He always knows exactly where she is. Not anymore.

Cathy did excellently herself this episode, asking him what she can do rather than pressing for impossible details, demanding more thorough answers from Father the right way, and keeping by Vincent's side when he broke into her apartment

She really stepped up this time and I love her for it. ❤️

but it kept getting better and better during his fever and "hallucinations" and the Other's hovering (now I know visually what Nan meant when she captured Buster's hovering and insistence) and Cathy's help and his progression to the bed and his waking better to watch the sun go down.

Just small things, but the way his upper lip curls into a snarl when he spots Buster; the way he struggles to stay conscious just long enough to say to C "You knew those lines."; the way the final scene in her apartment was lit and how small and beaten down he appears staring out at the sunset; his heartbreaking "I'm sorry."

Excuse me, I think I have something in my eye. 🥹

I almost didn't notice how important Vincent's "love" was until BWBS (so thank you, Nan, for bringing that more thoroughly to my attention); but I did notice how he didn't directly agree to Cathy's request.

Yeah, that's the first time he tells her he loves her, even though she's said it to him many times. He's convinced he's going to lose this battle and wants her to know with certainty that he does love her. And, yes, he expertly sidesteps directly agreeing with Cathy's ask.

Samantha and her book

Again with the tears. Vincent loves all the children so much.

collapsing into Father's arms and sending him off, saying goodbye to everyone and leaving before he and Cathy return (what a moving scene-- they all love him in their own ways), and fleeing below the catacombs to potentially die in the attempt to master or free himself (a literal descent into darkness) was the cherry on top. Mouse following Vincent anyway made me want to cheer; and Pascal keeping up with him on the pipes made me want to cheer even more.

Yes to all of this!

Father staying back while Cathy insists on descending, too, sets up that puzzling little dichotomy: I believe Father loves Vincent more "completely" as he acknowledges all aspects of his son; but I believe Cathy loves Vincent more deeply?

Hmm, I've never thought of it that way. I'll have to chew on this for awhile. I think you might be onto something.

Beauty's love killing and then rescuing the Beast make a full circle here

Exactly!

On a separate note: I'm not in the habit of making everything about The X-Files, but I can see why a fan fresh off BATB would be drawn to this other show. Mulder and Scully had that near-instant connection between them that transcended words, social norms and expectations, and both of their fixed perspectives or parameters.

Oh, I don't think you're wrong. That's one of the reasons I loved TXF and M & S right off the bat. It did a really nice job of filling some of the void from the loss of BATB. At least it did for me.

But I think Mulder and Scully succeeded where Vincent and Cathy failed because they disproved, together, Father's assessment which Peter quoted to Cathy: "Maybe Jacob was right: when you go beyond definitions, scientific knowledge can only break down." The breakdown, or the hitch, was in the lack of complete acceptance.

Nicely put!

Next up: Beyond Words, Beyond Silence and a few random thoughts.

[cafeleningrad]

Hi, i know i haven't answer you yet but here some ask : CARNATION, JASMINE, POINSETTIA, DAFFODIL, HIBISCUS and AZALEA

Merçi pour le bouquet a ta curiosité. ;) 💐🌻🌷🌼 Carnation: If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? Hard to say because currently I listen more to lectures or audiobooks than music (even less so contemporary artists) but since Buena Vista Social Club is still around I would gladly experience them life again or Natalie Fourcade in live would sound intriguing to me. JASMINE:What color looks best on you? Good question, I'm still experimenting at the moment. Black always works on everyone. Bordeaulais red, coral, mint, many dark green shades, ivory, and ultramarine never fail me. Recently I got a handdown kimono blouse in eggyolk yellow, and I've grown quiet fond of it too. POINSETTIA:Favorite holiday dish? Lamb, especially when my step grandmother prepares it! And special baked goods only prepared for holiday seasons. Certain specific smells and tastes are the best way to experience a new season, in my opinion. Not exactly a holiday dish but on my SO's birthday his mother prepares him jajangmyeong from scratch and oh boy, it is a heavenly delight! DAFFODIL:What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? Hard to say because when answering the question on what kind of questions I'd like to have I often pragmatically name stuff I always forget to buy for myself. (Anyhow, I'm a proud owner of a cordless drill. B) ) But thinking of it... I think it was Francesca who always picks book titles I'd probably never gotten into by myself but she chooses so deductively knowing that it would tickle my senses. HIBISCUS:Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? Accoustic guitar since I was a teen, and the this year I got to pick it up again. AZALEA:What’s a movie you cried while watching? Oh gosh, movies make me cry so easily, not even deep ones. Probably the last title squeezing out some tears for the hurt felt through the characters was "Les cinq diables" during cinema screening. (If you haven't seen it yet let me tease you with the outlook that no karaoke scene has ever had such a gut punch impact before.)

🌷Flowers asks🌻🌼

[pupa-cinema]

Omedetai Atama de Naniyori -きなしゃんせ。 (Come Come Everybody) - Lyrics English Translation

おかえんなさい　さぁ好きなとこ座ってよ Welcome back, come, sit wherever you’d like はいこれ　今日の御通し　鯛の煮付けね Here you go, today’s special otoshi, red snapper simmered in sweet soy sauce

いやまぁ知っての通り　ほんっといろんなことがあってさ Well well, as you know, there’s reallly been a lot goin’ on here recently みんなどんどんどんどんやめてっちゃって Everyone’s been quitting one after the other after the other この辺もだいぶさみしくなったもんだよね It’s gotten pretty lonely around here too

大声出して歌ったり　肩組んで歩いたり　その辺に寝転んだり People would always shout and sing so loud, or walk around shoulder to shoulder, or fall asleep on the spot and such ほんと馬鹿だなーと思いながら見てたけど　嫌いじゃなかったよ I always watched them thinking they were so stupid but, I never hated it

へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　らっしゃい　何飲みます？ Hey hey, welcome, what would you like to drink? へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　注文　何しましょ？ Hey hey, what will you have to order?

はい　おかわり　お待ちどうさん Hai, here’s your second serving, ta for waiting

まぁ正直暖簾を下ろそうかなって思ったことは　何回もあったよ Well, to be honest I’ve thought about taking down the noren many times now でもさやっぱりやめられないね But y’know, I just can’t find it in myself to quit だってこうやって会いに来てくれるわけでしょ People like you still come on in, after all 一人でもそういう人がいるんだったらそう簡単にはね Even if there’s only one person out there, I can’t just ditch them, do you feel me またあの頃みたいにワイワイやれたら　そりゃ嬉しいけど ‘Course I’d love if we could party like old times again but そういうわけにはいかないか Thing’s ain’t that simple

へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　らっしゃい　何飲みます？ Hey hey, welcome, what would you like to drink? へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　注文　何しましょ？ Hey hey, what will you have to order?

へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　らっしゃい　何飲みます？ Hey hey, welcome, what would you like to drink? へいへい　らっしゃい　きなしゃんせ Hey hey, welcome, come come everybody へいへい　注文　何しましょ？ Hey hey, what will you have to order?

へいへい　らっしゃい　ララライ Hey hey, welcome, lalalai 経年メッカの夢の街 Over time becoming a mecca of a dream city へいへい　らっしゃい　ララライ Hey hey, welcome, lalalai おわらんはじまりはここから We’re not done yet, we’re just getting started

Interview:

ぶち上げ系じゃない、肩の力が抜けた曲だってやらせろ！わしかて疲れてるんじゃ。うああああ。という衝動からスタートした曲。 It ain’t a pump up kinda song. Lemme do a more chilled song at this point! Lil’ old man me’s tired. Waaaagh. Or at least, that’s what I said when I first started making this song. maoが作ったリズムの骨組みに、324が自由にギターのせてトラック完成。最初はイタリア語っぽく聞こえる日本語を組み合わせたラップにしようとしたけど、背伸びしすぎてる感が否めなく、結局語りのようになった。 With a rhythm mao made as the framework and 324’s freeform guitar on top, was the track complete. 録音のとき、「寂れた町の場末の居酒屋の大将になりきろうなりきろう……」という意識でやった結果、演技みが強くなったけど気持ちがすごくこもっているのだ。 “‘I’ve gotta become like a full admiral of an izakaya off the downtown of a rundown dingy city… I’ve gotta….” I told myself while recording, and as a result did it turn into an acting performance but… There’s actually a lotta emotion poured into the song. このときメンタル的にとても落ち込んでいたので、サビのメロと歌詞から、それはもうおびただしい哀愁オーラが出過ぎていて、メンバーに引かれた。 I was super depressed at the time so, the chorus and melody and lyrics were just emitting this intense dismal aura. So much so that it nabbed my bandmates’ attention. 「せっかくキャッチーなリフレインパートがあるんだから、それサビにすりゃいいじゃん。」というぽにきの一言にハッとして今の形に着地。最初は居酒屋の入口の情景にすごくフォーカスしてたので、“暖簾ソング”って呼ばれてた。ライブに来てくれるお客さんを心地よくウェルカム出来る曲に育てたい。そんな展望。（赤飯） I had a eureka moment when Poniki told me “You made such a catchy refrain part that you can’t let it go to waste, just make it into the chorus.” Which led to the chorus we have now. I focused so much on the intro imagery of that izakaya entry scene that originally the song was just called “The Noren Song”. I wanna make this song into something that’ll be a warm welcome for people coming to concerts. That’s my future plan for now.

-Sekihan

[charlestonbusinessdirectory]

From Dusk Till Dawn: A Local's Guide to Charleston's Nightlife Scene Shop Local Charleston, SC Businesses [ad_1] Introduction Charleston, South Carolina is known for its rich history, beautiful architecture, and delicious cuisine. But what many visitors may not know is that Charleston also has a vibrant nightlife scene that comes alive after the sun sets. From lively bars and clubs to intimate lounges and speakeasies, Charleston offers something for everyone looking to experience the city after dark. The Best Bars When it comes to bars in Charleston, there are plenty of options to choose from. If you're looking for a classic cocktail or a craft beer, head to The Belmont, a cozy bar with a laid-back atmosphere. For those looking for a more upscale experience, The Bar at Husk offers an extensive list of artisanal cocktails in a historic setting. Clubs and Lounges If you're in the mood for some dancing, Charleston has a few clubs and lounges that cater to those looking to let loose. Republic Reign is a popular nightclub with a DJ spinning the latest hits, while The Commodore offers a more relaxed vibe with live music and a rooftop bar overlooking the city. Speakeasies If you're looking for a more intimate and unique experience, pay a visit to one of Charleston's speakeasies. The Gin Joint is a local favorite, with its cozy atmosphere and extensive selection of handcrafted cocktails. Another hidden gem is The Rarebit, a retro-style bar serving up classic cocktails and comfort food. Live Music Venues Charleston is also home to a vibrant live music scene, with venues that showcase local talent as well as touring acts. The Music Farm is a popular spot for concerts and shows, while The Pour House offers a more laid-back setting with nightly live music performances. For a taste of traditional Charleston jazz, head to The Mezz, a speakeasy-style lounge with live music every night. Conclusion From dusk till dawn, Charleston's nightlife scene has something for everyone. Whether you're looking to sip on a craft cocktail in a cozy bar, dance the night away at a club, or discover a hidden speakeasy, Charleston offers a variety of options to explore after dark. So next time you find yourself in the Holy City, be sure to check out some of these local favorites and experience Charleston's nightlife like a true local. [ad_2] EXPLORE MORE: Nightlife in Charleston SC Best: Places to eat in Charleston SC FIND: Things to do in Charleston SC CHARLESTON BUSINESS OWNERS: Get a Free Business Profile FIND BUSINESSES: Charleston Business Directory BE SEEN: Advertise Your Business Here #NIGHTLIFE

[chsthrive]

From Dusk Till Dawn: A Local's Guide to Charleston's Nightlife Scene Shop Local Charleston, SC Businesses [ad_1] Introduction Charleston, South Carolina is known for its rich history, beautiful architecture, and delicious cuisine. But what many visitors may not know is that Charleston also has a vibrant nightlife scene that comes alive after the sun sets. From lively bars and clubs to intimate lounges and speakeasies, Charleston offers something for everyone looking to experience the city after dark. The Best Bars When it comes to bars in Charleston, there are plenty of options to choose from. If you're looking for a classic cocktail or a craft beer, head to The Belmont, a cozy bar with a laid-back atmosphere. For those looking for a more upscale experience, The Bar at Husk offers an extensive list of artisanal cocktails in a historic setting. Clubs and Lounges If you're in the mood for some dancing, Charleston has a few clubs and lounges that cater to those looking to let loose. Republic Reign is a popular nightclub with a DJ spinning the latest hits, while The Commodore offers a more relaxed vibe with live music and a rooftop bar overlooking the city. Speakeasies If you're looking for a more intimate and unique experience, pay a visit to one of Charleston's speakeasies. The Gin Joint is a local favorite, with its cozy atmosphere and extensive selection of handcrafted cocktails. Another hidden gem is The Rarebit, a retro-style bar serving up classic cocktails and comfort food. Live Music Venues Charleston is also home to a vibrant live music scene, with venues that showcase local talent as well as touring acts. The Music Farm is a popular spot for concerts and shows, while The Pour House offers a more laid-back setting with nightly live music performances. For a taste of traditional Charleston jazz, head to The Mezz, a speakeasy-style lounge with live music every night. Conclusion From dusk till dawn, Charleston's nightlife scene has something for everyone. Whether you're looking to sip on a craft cocktail in a cozy bar, dance the night away at a club, or discover a hidden speakeasy, Charleston offers a variety of options to explore after dark. So next time you find yourself in the Holy City, be sure to check out some of these local favorites and experience Charleston's nightlife like a true local. [ad_2] EXPLORE MORE: Nightlife in Charleston SC Best: Places to eat in Charleston SC FIND: Things to do in Charleston SC CHARLESTON BUSINESS OWNERS: Get a Free Business Profile FIND BUSINESSES: Charleston Business Directory BE SEEN: Advertise Your Business Here #NIGHTLIFE

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Supporting Eddie Munson at one of his concerts would include...

You've been non-stop talking about the gig all week. You tell everyone you know, telling them to come along and bring their friends. You know it's not everyone's scene but you want as much support for Eddie as possible. You're just so proud and want everyone to experience his talent.

You get there early so that you can be one of the people at the front.

Eddie talks about you backstage, "My girl's coming tonight so let's make this show the best damn show ever."

When he notices you in the crowd, he wears the biggest damn smile and points you out to his bandmates, "That's my girl."

You wear one of his band t-shirts and you wear it with so much pride. When he notices, the smile he has is bigger than ever. He's not used to having someone support him this much and it means so much to him that you believe in him like this.

When he sees your friends that you've rallied it's like he falls in love all over again with you. He can see the love for him pouring out of you; he knows that you just want him to be loved, supported and to have the chance to shine.

You cheer the loudest the full time. By the end of the gig, your voice is pretty much gone.

He dedicates the concert to you, telling the crowd that you're the most important thing to him and he hopes he makes you proud. You shout back, "You do!".

When the concert's done, you go backstage and he's there, curls dripping with sweat and you hug him so tight, "You were amazing! I'm so proud!" He picks you up, spinning you around, pressing kisses to the skin he can reach.

He smells like sweat, beer and doughnuts.

He's running on adrenaline and talks a mile a minute because he cannot get over how good you look in the band's t-shirt and can't get over how good the concert went.

He kisses you hard, thanking you for being there and thanking you for your support. He makes sure to thank you when you're both home and in private.

You go to every gig of his after that (though you stop cheering quite so much because losing your voice for days at a time isn't fun).

[shig-a-shig-ah]

Gangbang by the lov

Anon I know I have ignored this for a week and I am sorry for that, but let me tell you: I got this request and I was like ‘fuck it, if I’m going to do it I’m going to do it right’ and was all set to do a full fic because how do you even fit something so involved into a few paragraphs? 

Except here’s the thing: it’s fucking hard! Who knew? Not me, because I am a fool and I thought I could just pop out 3.5k words of gangbang in a week or something and be content with it, but lemme tell you, it took that way longer than I expected just choreograph some sequence of events. Like, just the set up and making it clear who’s doing what, let alone making it actually read well took so much time. So, hats off to anyone who’s ever accomplished that task, you’re more man than me.

Anyway, in the end I abandoned the set up and I wouldn’t quite consider this a full fic, but it got pretty long anyway. 

» pairing: male!LoV Members x afab!reader

» cw: gangbanging, obviously. Also double penetration, eating ass, anal sex, masturbation, a sprinkle of voyeurism and a lil’ bit of dirty talk, and maybe degrading language if you squint. 18+, minors DNI. 

» wc:  1.7k

They let Jin start you off—the League doesn't want to wreck you too badly after all, wants to get you nice and ready so they can keep doing this, again and again for as long as you're willing to be their good little slut. You never know when it's coming either, some of them will exchange a look and suddenly Jin is pulling you to him, nestling his broad chest against your back and letting his hands wander, groping at your chest and pinching your nipples, sliding beneath the waistband of your pants to toy with your folds, telling you that you're “such an obedient slut” for him in one breath and “such a useless whore!” the next, his face flushing at the outburst while he grinds his cock against the curve of your ass.

It's Compress who joins next—what kind of gentleman would he be, after all, if he didn't help get you warmed up for them? He and Twice will guide you somewhere comfortable like the couch in the corner, peeling off your clothes along the way, and the next thing you know Jin is tugging you into his lap, making you face him as he sinks you down on his cock, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he whimpers at the feel of your warm, wet pussy enveloping his length. Compress is already kneeling behind you too, hands spreading your cheeks wide so that he can tongue at your ass; it's important after all to get all those holes ready, because god knows they'll be using them.

When Jin gets close to finishing, he'll reach down to stroke your clit, getting you mewling. Those sweet little sounds pouring from your mouth are more than anyone could resist—can't let 'em go to waste, after all. This is when Muscular steps in, stroking that intimidatingly large cock, pressing it's fist-sized tip against your lips until you part them to give kitten licks around his head, all you can manage to start, when it's so thick.

Your hips buck when Compress slips one of those agile fingers into your puckered hole, chuckling softly at how the invasion makes you squirm and then adding another slick digit. The way you writhe has Twice gripping your hips harder too, thumb rubbing more furiously at your sensitive nub, and all those sensations are enough to have you cascading over the edge, crying out and shuddering as you cum. Muscular takes advantage of the way your mouth gapes when you cry out, forcing his way past your lips, stretching your mouth impossibly wide around his length, all while Jin is twitching beneath you, the feel of your cunt clenching around him more than enough to have him painting your walls white as he shouts his appreciation, "Thank you, thank yo—fuck—thank you."

And then Muscular and Compress are lifting you from Twice's lap, arranging you on all fours so that Muscular can fuck your mouth more properly and Compress can start the work of sinking himself into your tight ass. He whispers in your ear the whole time, praises and reassurances to help you take him.

"Deep breath now, that’s it," he'll croon. "Just relax, I assure you I'll take excellent care of you."

There's something about his voice that’s soothing. Hypnotic even, perhaps one more trick the mysterious man has mastered, and it never fails to work, your whole body going limp and accepting those invasions in the best possible way, leaving you tight yet compliant for Compress as he buries himself in your ass. It helps for Muscular too, your throat and your jaw relaxing enough for him to surge past the tight ring of your throat so he can fuck your face properly, growling lustily as you accept him without complaint. They rock you back and forth between them, a seemingly endless and exquisite fullness that has your sex dripping, slick running down your thighs as you clench around nothing, and you swallowing eagerly when Muscular finally releases his load down your throat.

When he withdraws you catch a glimpse of Moonfish, leaning against the wall on the other side of the bar. It's impossible to tell if he's watching with that leather hood covering his face, but you know he's enjoying himself one way or another, the same way he always does—thick threads of spit running down his chin and an obvious bulge at his crotch as he ruts against the air, writhing his way to his own hands-free release.

But that view is blocked when Shigaraki and Dabi settle in to take Muscular's place in front of you, stroking themselves gently and grinning widely. Dabi runs one hot thumb along your spit-slicked lower lip.

"Ain't that cute, you looking all fucked out already?" he murmurs, and then his hand is on the back of your head, guiding you to lick at his cock. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tickle at the line of barbells placed there before sucking lightly at his tip, moaning against it as Compress's thrusts grow rougher, more erratic, sending you gasping every time he sinks himself deep into your rear entrance. Dabi draws a hissing breath and then guides your head towards Shigaraki instead.

"That's a good little fucktoy," Shigaraki whispers, dry lips twisting into a fond smile as he pinches your tongue with two fingers, tugging it out and ordering you to keep it that way as he brushes his tip back and forth over that hot, wet muscle, ruts gently against it, using you to tease himself.

You don't notice when Compress cums, not until he's pulling out and his hands at your waist are replaced by the feel of claws tracing gently over your sweaty back. You can hear Spinner panting, and feel the way he's trembling a little. No matter how many times you've done this he always get so nervous about filling you up with those hemipenes, his cheeks flushing pink and his movements uncertain. But you know he loves that there's someone who can finally take him, take both of them, and you love the feeling of them filling you up just as much. So you cant your hips, rub your wet eager holes against him until he's making a strangled, impatient noise and forcing both cocks into you with a single thrust, and then you're moaning against Shigaraki's stiff member.

He jams it down your throat in response, humping against your face a little more eagerly as you meet Spinner's movements the best you can. The curve of his cock in your cunt hits just right against that sensitive spot inside, the feel of being stretched so wide and full sending you hurtling towards your next climax.

And Shigaraki's eager for it, loves to see you writhe and then squirt, making such a mess. He pulls out of your mouth, Dabi quickly taking his place in that drooling cavern, and then two of Shigaraki's fingers are rubbing fast circles against your clit.

"Should I make them cum, Spinner?" he asks, a teasing edge in his voice. "Want to feel them clenching around you?"

"Y-yeah, boss," you hear Spinner pant. "Fuck, please, yes."

Tomura's fingers speed up, add just a little more pressure and that's all it takes to have you bucking, your cunt contracting, gushing all over Spinner's cocks. You hear him whine, swearing under his breath as his thrusts speed up, and you feel even more deliciously full when he's twitching inside you, flooding both your holes.

You're repositioned again almost immediately, cum dripping out of you as you're tugged upright onto your knees, Shigaraki slotting himself against your back and sinking without warning into your ass while Dabi pins you from the front, driving himself abruptly into your cunt.

They like to be last, you know, like you sloppy and overstimulated when they take you, and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't love it too, Shigaraki stretching your ass wide and the ridges of Dabi's pierced shaft massaging your insides in the most delicious way. It's different than the fullness Spinner gives you; his cocks always move in concert, a rhythmic cycling of fullness and emptiness that is a drastic contrast to Dabi and Shigaraki's variegated, asynchronous thrusts. Shigaraki wastes no time pounding into your ass with constant rough strokes, while Dabi likes to tease, likes to go slow until you're a whining mess, whimpering every time he grinds against your overstimulated clit and still begging him for more, pleading with him to make you cum as tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks.

He doesn't of course, not until he and Shigaraki are ready—they want you to cum when they do, want to feel you convulsing and milking every drop of their seed out of them. They only start to match their movements once they’re close, Shigaraki's hands snaking between your and Dabi's bodies to tweak at your nipples, twisting those sensitive buds.

"Is the greedy little toy gonna cum for us?" Dabi murmurs, his breath hot in one ear.

"You've been such a good little cocksleeve, taking everyone," Shigaraki purrs in the other, "so go on and show us how much you like it."

And you do. You cum so hard there's white spots flashing behind your eyes, your toes curling and your moans strangled as they escape your abused throat, throbs of ecstasy radiating through your core until you're left limp, Dabi and Shigaraki's grips the only thing keeping you upright as they ride out their releases, their cum leaking out around their cocks as they fill you to overflowing.

They lay you back gently on the couch when they're finally finished. There's a warm washcloth wiping at your thighs already, a soothing hand brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead, but you don't pay any mind to who's doing what. You simply lay there and let them go about the business of cleaning you up, entirely trusting of their attentions, because you already know there's no reason not to be.

They always take such good care of you.

[i-cant-sing]

Hi hi! I would like to request on what would yandere platonic Todoroki family react if their kid/sibling love to sing and is pretty good at it! Take your time if you are busy

Yandere Platonic Todoroki Family x singer reader

LMAOOOOOOOOO the images that popped in my mind.

Okay so this isn't very yandere. Beware, this is literally one of the stupidest things I've written, but I had to get this off my chest.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todorki Family:

You were singing to your self while cleaning up your room, thinking you were alone. And as one does singing while cleaning, you were really into the song and completely pouring your heart out. Only once did you finish singing, you heard clapping. You turned around to see Dabi standing in your doorway, clapping and smiling. "You have a good voice, baby sis. Adorable, really" He said to you, pinching your cheek. You swatted his hands away, mumbling a 'stop it' and 'thanks' under your breath. Just as you were about to return back to cleaning, he suddenly grabbed your hand. "You know what? I have a great idea."he grinned mischievously. You eyed him suspiciously. "Does it involve me getting out of this house?"you asked him. "For a while."he replied, still grinning. You thought for a while. Its been too long since you've been outside anyways. "Alright. Let's go." Dabi's smile widened as he took your hand and dragged you down the stairs of his dad's home. You guys were almost out the door before Shotou stopped you. "Where are you going?"he inquired. "I'm taking her out with me. You wanna join?" Dabi answered for you. Shotou didn't trust the wicked glint in his brother's eyes. Shotou nodded, joining you guys to wherever Dabi was taking you, but not before sending his mom a text that you were with them. She would go crazy worry if she didn't know where you were.

You guys had left in the morning and returned just before dinner. Enji and Rei were getting anxious about where your brothers had taken you for so long. Fuyumi and Natsuo were texting Shotou back and forth about you, but he only told them that they will be returning soon and to "wait to be surprised".

Once you guys came home, Shotou was the first to enter and quell everyone's worries. He told them to sit in the lounge and that he and his siblings have prepared a surprise for them. Once everyone had settled down, Shotou called you and Dabi in. Dabi walked in first, still grinning wickedly, and then you walked in.

The silence was deafening as everyone looked at you.

There you stood, your appearance completely changed. Your hair was coloured jet black like Dabi's, but had streaks of neon green in it. It was pulled into space buns, and half of your hair was down. Your eyes were decorated with green eyeshadow and black kohl liner, eyelashes heavy with mascara, and your lips were coloured jet balck. You were wearing a spiked choker, a black AC/DC shirt, black shorts with fishnet stockings underneath and black laced boots.

You could literally hear crickets.

"(Y/n)? Is- is that you?" Fuyumi was the first to break the silence. "This was Dabi's idea."you pointed at him. Everyone looked at him. Dabi only chuckled, replying "yeah. But wait. The surprise isn't done yet."

"There's more?"Natsuo asked, bewildered.

Dabi ignored him and brought out his electric guitar and speakers. Shotou was handed the triangle instrument. Once everything was set up, Dabi handed you a mic and told you to take position.

You were about to sing "Shook me all night" by AC/DC. You were only doing this because Dabi had promised to take you out more often.

"This is the surprise."Dabi said before he started his guitar solo.

And then your part came. You closed your eyes to avoid further embarrassment.

The song ended with Shotou striking the triangle. Honestly, he was glad to be a part of whatever you're doing, so he pestered Dabi to gave him a little part in the song as well.

When you opened your eyes, you took in the scene in front of you. Natsuo and Fuyumi were filming you, Rei had tears in her eyes and Enji's mouth was slightly agape.

And then everyone started clapping. Rei got up and hugged you, her tears falling down her cheeks. "Oh my....that was so good sweetie! Mommy's super proud of you! You have the voice of a sweet angel!! My baby!!!" Natsuo was next to hug you and high five Dabi. "You're a little rockstar baby sis!" "Your voice is great, but you should sing for us only." Shotou said montonously. Fuyumi had little tears in her eyes as well. "That was really nice, (Y/n). C-can I be a part of your band as well?"she asked, feeling a little bummed out that she was left out. "Uh, yeah sure."

You then looked at Enji, waiting for his reaction. You had figured it out that this was all an elaborate plan of Dabi's to piss Enji off. Dabi changed your appearance and made you sing this song specifically to break whatever "little innocent princess" image of you Enji had in his mind.

Enji stood and walked towards you, his expression as serious as ever. Dabi was biting his lip in anticipation. Is this it, he thought, did he break Enji?

Enji looked at you, blue eyes piercing you. Suddenly, a small smile appeared on his face. His eyes were soft as he spoke. "That was very good, (Y/n). You sang quite nicely. One of my favourite bands as well." He said, before patting your head affectionately. "You should sing more often." He said.

What the fuck? Enji, a traditional and conservative man, likes AC/DC? Dabi thought to himself. His plan produced counterproductive results.

"Oh definitely! We should do this every week! Her voice is great!"Natsuo said. "Yes."Shou nodded. "I'll play the piano! Or I can duet with (Y/n)! We can do that right?"Fuyumi asked. "Lets pick the next song. Maybe one that isn't as obscene as this one. Dabi you should've known better, she's too young to listen to these songs." Natsuo added. Shotou nodded. Fuyumi agreed,"Yeah. And that outfit didn't suit her at all. I've already picked out our next look! A light pink and white theme for all of us! (Y/n) what do you think?"the siblings turned to ask you, but you weren't in the room. Neither were their parents.

Enji and Rei had taken you to your room. Rei was running you a warm bath, while Enji was un-doing you hair. "How long does this dye last?"he asked you, dislike clearly evident on his face at the neon streaks in your hair. "I think a month" you said, as you went to un-pin your hair but he gently swatted your hand. Sighing, you put your hands back in your lap. Rei came back with your pyjamas and took you to your bath. "My sweet angel. Look what they did to your pretty skin and hair. And then making you sing such a vulgar song! Your brothers are nice, but remind me to never let you go out with them again." She said to you, rubbing off your makeup as if it was dirt.

You wanted to remind her that you can still wash yourself. You wanted remind her that this was the first time in 5 months since you had been outside the house. Don't do it though.

You don't want to spend the night in a frozen bathtub, do you?

If you were actually a singer, you best believe Enji would've bought your first 100 albums himself. Rei would attend all your concerts and buy all of your merchandise.

Also imagine, the Todoroki siblings in a band. I think they'll be like Arctic Monkeys or something. What do you guys think?

Requests are open!