#i am sure this is already on here somewhere but it is simply the best description of them that ever was and i would like to no longer

[sounwise]

The Beatles onstage presented a line of three singer-guitarists standing toward the front, with the drummer sitting behind and above them on a small platform flanked by guitar amplifiers. [...] Their haircuts had been regularized into shiny, bowl-shaped helmets that framed their faces and enlarged their heads, giving them an almost childlike silhouette. They were dressed identically, coiffed identically, and the three in front were all of equal height. Yet their uniformity of appearance was offset by an almost complete lack of uniformity in their individual styles of performance. On the right side of the stage stood John Lennon, facing the audience squarely, his feet planted widely apart, his body flexing up and down at the knees in a motion that suggested Elvis Presley idling in neutral. Half-blind as he was without the glasses he refused to wear onstage, John’s naturally petulant expression was compounded by an air of obliviousness as he sang, his head tilted back, squinting down his nose at the blur of lights and shapes that swam before his eyes. Across the stage from his songwriting partner, Paul McCartney bounced and hopped and twisted as if his movements were being controlled by an apprentice puppeteer, the neck of his violin-shaped bass guitar alternately jerking up and down or sweeping across the stage as he turned to face his bandmates. In contrast to John, Paul seemed to take in everything that was happening around him onstage, as reflected on his face by a constant flow of smiles, frowns of concentration, surprised laughter, and histrionic double-takes—one moment the picture of crooning sincerity with his head bowed and his eyes raised, the next moment actually shaking from head to toe with the excitement of the music. A more sober form of concentration could be seen on the face of George Harrison as he stood in the middle of the band, his guitar held perfectly level and worn high on his body. George onstage was a collection of small, poised gestures: now stepping forward to take a solo, now leaning over to share a microphone with Paul or John on the chorus harmonies. Behind the others sat Ringo, surrounded by his new American-made drum set, the front head of his bass drum displaying the name of the band in stark black lettering. Raising his sticks high, fanning his hi-hat cymbals with his arm drawn across his body, Ringo seemed to vie with the audience for the attention of the three guitarists in front of him, at times actually lifting out of his seat with the enthusiasm of his playing. And on his face, mixed in with the sidelong glances and knowing grins that linked the Beatles to one another onstage, could be glimpsed a look of absolute astonishment that the others, if they did nothing else, managed to suppress.

[—from Can’t Buy Me Love: The Beatles, Britain, and America, Jonathan Gould]

[unoislazy]

I Am No Coward

(Part 2)

Mizu x Fem! Reader

Summary: You find out that your brothers wife cannot cook for shit.

————————————————————

You and Mikio hadn’t spoken since your last argument. It wasn’t much of an argument as much as it was you just yelling at him, but regardless you both hadn’t talked since. You said nothing to him any time he entered a room, you turned away and continued whatever activity or conversation you held before he entered.

Oh you were mad, beyond that even, but you tried your best not to let it show when around Mizu. Despite your anger towards Mikio you didn’t want it to affect how Mizu viewed him, if she even valued your opinion that much by this point. You helped her out with chores that Mikio had more or less just tossed on her, which were things that you had already been in charge of beforehand. You constantly told her there was no need for her to help, and that if you handled it before, you could handle it now, but she would always insist on helping.

So you let her.

It was coming close to sundown so you gathered up as many ingredients as you thought necessary and set them out to begin cooking. As you had set out your ingredients you had noticed someone enter the room through your peripheral vision. You turned a bit, not wanting to give the person your full attention or acknowledgement in case it had been Mikio, but you quickly realized that the person was actually Mizu. Now knowing this, you greeted the woman with a wide smile and beckoned her to join you.

“Would you like to help me prepare the food?” You asked as she knelt down beside you. She looked at all the ingredients you had set out with a confused look very evident on her face.

“I can try… but I’ve never actually cooked before.” She admitted, looking up from the food and towards you. Your smile never faltered, as you turned back to the now heated pot before you.

“We all have to start somewhere right? Here, why don’t you chop some of these.” You instructed, pushing some vegetables towards her and handing her the knife. You could see her eyes light up almost the instant she looked at the knife, happy to finally see something she knew how to properly use without help. She nodded at you before chopping to her heart's content. You on the other hand began to get the spices and other parts of the meal prepared before the vegetables.

You were nowhere near the level of a chef, you simply had to learn the hard way what worked with cooking and what didn’t. In the very beginning of your stay with Mikio, you fondly remember him taking at least some time out of his day to help teach you some basics to cooking. You wished you could somehow convince him to go back to the way he was, but you couldn’t change him and you knew that, and at this point you didn’t want Mizu to get hurt trying. She was his wife after all but you still felt awful sitting by and watching as he ignored all of her attempts to get on his good side.

On the bright side of everything, you truly enjoyed Mizu’s company and you made sure it was obvious to her. She always seemed so genuinely interested in everything you showed her how to do, from cleaning the stables, to cleaning the house, feeding the horses, and now even cooking. She was making an effort to adjust to this new life and she had not a single complaint about it. It had taken you a moment to get used to two other people being around all the time, but when it came to Mizu you welcomed it with open arms.

She was a lot more clumsy than one might initially believe her to be. The amount of times she had tripped or dropped a bucket while cleaning was enough to count on two hands. It seemed to you as if she wasn’t used to the apparel she now wore everyday which struck you as a bit odd, but you truly didn’t put any more thought into it. If anything, you found her slip ups pretty adorable for someone so tall and quiet.

“What do I do with them?” You heard Mizu ask, snapping you out of your thoughts almost immediately. You looked towards the dark haired women, quickly noticing the now entirely full plate. She had minced every single thing you had given her and it was clear that she was eagerly waiting for more.

“Oh, just set those aside for now. Here take this.” You instructed, handing her a small bowl of spices as you grabbed the stacked plate of vegetables.

“Just add a pinch into the pot while I try and find…” Your voice trailed off as you continued to search the area for your missing utensils. You could’ve sworn you had placed a ladle out along with the rest of your ingredients. You turned every which way, not seeing it anywhere as you placed the plate down and stood up. You looked back at Mizu who was holding a now empty bowl of spices, but this fact had gone completely unnoticed by you.

“You can add a few of those in, I just need to go and find a ladle.” You said, pointing at what Mizu needed to do next before walking off. Once you had quickly found the utensil you had needed you returned to the room to find Mizu now holding three barren spice containers. This time you indeed noticed.

Your eyes widened as you looked towards Mizu, then the pot, then back at Mizu who was just looking at you with a blank stare. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought, there's a possibility she might’ve just added the right amount and… the rest just disappeared.

You knelt down near the pot, carefully stirring the soupy concoction with your new found ladle, and very carefully gave it a small sip.

Your face very quickly contorted into a sour grimace as you placed the ladle down. You noticed how Mizu’s blank stare very quickly turned to disappointment and you immediately felt horrible, despite the whole situation truly not being that big of a deal.

“I should’ve been more descriptive.” You reassured Mizu, she had told you she never cooked before so you probably should’ve taken more caution when instructing her.

“Is it fixable?” She asked, looking towards the plate of vegetables with a hopeful gaze.

“As much as I want to approve that idea, those aren’t going to fix this.” You joked, earning a bit of a pout from the woman. You snickered a bit at her reaction, before handing her some water. “This should dilute it a bit.” You offered, handing her the bowl. Just as she was about to pour the water in you stopped her, having thought of a harmless yet still annoying prank. You grabbed a separate bowl and poured some of the non-diluted soup in, then told Mizu to continue pouring the water in. She watched you set the bowl aside with pure confusion before adding more water.

“What’s that bowl for?” She asked, now putting the empty bowl down.

“Don’t worry about it. Now where are the vegetables?” You questioned, it wasn't exactly directed at Mizu, it was more or less just you speaking aloud. You both search around the very small area taken up by your cooking materials before you spotted them. You reached for them with haste but you hadn't realized that Mizu had too. She had managed to put her hand on the side of the plate before you had, so you ended up lightly grazing her hand with your own. You immediately retracted your hand, not wanting the moment to linger, but at the same time there was some part in you that did.

You very quickly just chalked it up to an intrusive thought, afterall you were not going to make moves on your brother's wife, you accidentally touched hands, it was nothing more than that, calm down.

So that's what you did, you retracted your hand and paid no mind to the action as if it had never happened before telling Mizu to throw the vegetables into the broth. She nodded, doing just as she was told, and dumped them in and as if by some miracle, the food began to smell really good, just the way it should.

While you both waited for the food to finish cooking, you thought it a good time to just talk to the woman.

“So… How are you and Mikio getting along?” You asked, turning to Mizu who was now blankly staring at her hands that were placed carefully on her lap. You could sense the inner turmoil on whether or not she should answer truthfully, so you decided to help her out a bit.

“If you wish to speak ill of my brother, trust me I won’t be mad.” You began to reassure her lightheartedly. “I guarantee that your complaints would equal mine.” You continued, earning an acknowledging smile from her.

“I don’t think he likes me all that much.” She admitted quietly as if she was ashamed to have said so. You looked towards her with a bit of pity evident in your gaze, not because you pitied her not being liked by Mikio, but because you pitied her for even valuing his opinion of her in the first place. You had to remind yourself, she is his wife now so it would only be natural for her to want him to at least show some approval of her. That only made his current treatment of her even more upsetting in your eyes.

“I’d say not to pay him any mind, he’s just a grouchy old man who doesn’t see potential in anything that wont get him back his honor.” You explained, sounding as if you were joking but you both knew you werent.

“Has he always been this way?” She asked, turning towards you a bit more to show her interest in your response. You smiled a bit, not looking up at her as you told her,

“No. He used to be very kind and patient, I’m sure you would’ve loved him had you met him before… but now? Ever since he lost his title he’s been so hellbent on regaining his honor that he truly doesn’t care about much else.” You rambled slightly, your hand balling into a fist a bit as you clutched onto the fabric of your clothes, trying not to let yourself get lost in the emotions of what was. As much as you missed the old Mikio, you knew even then he still had his flaws. You remembered vividly how he refused to teach you anything related to fighting, he claimed it was too dangerous but once you had argued it was more dangerous for you to not know how to defend yourself, he dropped the topic entirely and avoided you any time you would try and bring it up again.

That’s why you were so intrigued when you found out that Mizu was able to fight. You had hoped to one day work up the courage and ask her to teach you because you knew, especially by this point, your brother was in no position to change his mind. You figured now was not the best time to ask as you looked up to the woman whose brilliant blue eyes were staring back at you, a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Well, at least you know if you ever get tired of dealing with him, you can always come and find me.” You smiled at her, trying to cover up any negative feelings you might have let slip while thinking about your brother. You wanted her to get to know him for herself and make that decision on her own. The last thing Mizu needed was someone telling her how horrible her husband is, after she had just married him, that was sure to go south fast.

Mizu gave you a small smile before turning back to the boiling pot which definitely smelled like it was ready. Very eager to try her first guided attempt at cooking, Mizu began to pour out the soup mixture into different bowls.

You, however, had kept the bowl with leftover undiluted soup and purposefully placed it down where Mikio always sat.

It hadn't taken long for both Mikio and Mizu’s mother to join you two at the table, both of them just as eager to eat as you and Mizu were. Before you ate however, you made a point to Mikio that,

“Yours is a special recipe, I just wanted to try something different than usual.”

Making sure to keep any of the blame for the tastefully challenged meal off of Mizu. Both Mizu and Mikio looked towards you, the same lack of certainty spread across their faces as they looked towards Mikio’s bowl. It didn’t look too much different from the rest of the dishes, but the moment Mikio placed the bowl to his lips and took not even a full second of a taste, he knew what was wrong. His face scrunched just as yours had done when you originally tasted the extremely strong broth. He immediately placed the bowl down, trying to suppress the urge to cough or spit it out to not look bad in front of Mizu and her mother. You watched on in glee as he proceeded to make himself look like an idiot, all while he sent an unrelenting glare your way.

“I see you must have forgotten a few steps.” Mikio muttered through several coughs. You merely smiled, very cheekily one might add, at the man before commenting,

“I guess you’re just not strong enough to handle that taste.” You shrugged before sipping your own food, which evidently tasted much better than his. He knew you were trying to get under his skin, the worst part in his eyes, was that it was working. He knew you were upset, he knew you didn’t like the way he had been acting, but he also believed he knew what was for the best. He believed if he continued working everything would go back to the way it was and then you would no longer have a reason to be so petty towards him. He wasn’t ready to be swayed on his thinking, so he wouldn’t be.

The three of you ate in peace before Mikio fully placed his bowl down and stood up, claiming that he had more work to finish up before leaving the room in silence. Mizu looked towards the door the man had just walked out of. Her expression wasn’t easy to read but she definitely didn’t exactly seem sad that he had left. She then turned to you, gesturing to Mikio’s now abandoned plate and asked,

“What was that for?”

“Just… some sibling rivalry. Nothing really.” You answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie. In a way you were rivals but you just hadn’t realized how yet.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[dawnoftime22]

in the sunlight. in the sunlight, my love.

| T.S

Warnings: None!

Summary: The coziest morning spent with Taylor. You could perhaps even consider it the best morning, too. The lovely time holds a moment of a gentle dance in the kitchen.

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff that'll make your heart melt <3

| Started on 10/11/2023, 5:53 AM |

| Finished on 26/11/2023 7:05 PM |

Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“For all I ever want, is to simply spend

every living second just beside you, darling.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

As the morning sun shined through the windows of the bedroom, you stir in your sleep, your body laying comfortably on the soft bed.

Your eyes slowly open as you awoke, blinking away the sleep while your mind registered that it was now morning.

And you also realized that beside you, was empty space. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, because you were sure Taylor didn't have any work today. Unless whatever she's said last night was just a dream.

You slowly sat up and turned to let your legs dangle from the bed, a yawn leaving your mouth.

The door was open just a creak, and you know Taylor wouldn't have left it opened unless she was home, so you wake up a with little bit more hope, and got out of bed.

Right as you walk to the door, even with it open just slightly, you can already hear that familiar voice you love oh so much, like a soft melody that was always beautiful, even if she wasn't singing.

You slowly make your way downstairs, and you see Taylor sitting cross-legged on the couch, one of her hand holding up her phone while the other was making it across her chest to rest against the one holding the phone.

Even as you arrived downstairs, she was far too focused on talking to the person on the call, that she didn't notice you. Once you got close enough, you soon recognize that she was talking to Tree. Perhaps about some merchandise, or a new album, or a show she's planning, you weren't entirely sure.

Her wavy hair was frizzily tied up in a ponytail, a few small strands getting out here and there. She wore a loose white collared shirt, and some comfortable sweatpants while she sat on the couch. It was a usual sight really, but it always made you smile just seeing her.

You made your path to cross towards her from the stairs and to the couch, to which was when she started to notice you were present in the room.

Her eyes looked at you first until she turned her head at you with a smile. Her arm across her chest moved to open a space for you while Tree talked. She adored you even in the morning.

You make up a somewhat pouty smile before you went to sit on her lap. She sets the phone down somewhere on the couch to have both of her arms free, just to wrap them around you.

You make yourself comfortable in her warmth, your head resting between her shoulder and her neck. The blonde then leaves a soft kiss on the side of your head, making you to look up at her adorably with a smile that she reflects.

Your mind just about registers the ending of her conversation on the phone, only hearing her voice saying, "Okay Tree, thank you. I'll talk to you about everything else later." She says softly of her goodbye along with Tree.

Right when her finger taps on the end call button, she turns to look at you, her eyes glimmering in love. You could feel your heart rate grow quicker with even just a look. "Good morning, baby."

"Morning," you say with a smile, your head having moved to rest against her shoulder, gazing at her face that was perfect even in the morning.

"You slept well?" Her hand goes to move a stray hair away from your face. You respond with a nod, and she matches your lips.

"You weren't there when I woke up." Your voice was quiet and soft, your fingers finding their way to hers, fiddling around with each of them.

"I'm sorry, darling. I had a call, and I didn't want to wake you up with the talking." The soft skin brushing against each other had her looking down softly with her lips turned up. She watches your fingers moving with hers, glad you could find comfort in even just a small, simple way.

"Do you want breakfast?" She asks, knowing you were hungry. The clock on the wall showed that it was almost well over the usual breakfast time.

"Yeah." You whisper, your face slightly hiding in her shoulder from how fast she figured out what you were just about to say before she spoke up.

"Well then, we will be having pancakes, if that's okay with you." She leaned closer towards you as she said her words, and even though you were already close, the way she did so with leaving little distance between you two made you feel her breath just slightly tickling your cheeks.

"More than okay." When she hears your agreement, she places the gentlest kiss right on the tip of your nose before pulling away.

"Let's go then." She pats your thigh lightly, signalling you to get up. You do, and she follows you along, the both of you going off to the kitchen.

She already had the ingredients ready on the kitchen counters. You'd guess she had them prepared while she was on the phone, and it warmed your heart from how she fit in the thought of you while she had work to think about.

"First, we start with this," She holds up her phone, placing it on the counter. Her fingers moved across the screen, finding a song, and when she does, she taps play on it, the starting melody reaching your ears. It was a slow one, perfect for peaceful mornings like these.

You assumed she was simply wanting some background music, but instead of walking to the prepared ingredients, she goes back to you. Your eyes were curious as to what she was up to as you watched her

She takes ahold of your waist gently, and starts swaying along with you. You let out a small laugh in a breath. She never fails in making you feel like you're falling in love with her for the first time, all over again. The movement matches the rhythm of the song, the moment slowly turning more special.

The sunlight was gleaming through the windows, casting a warm yellow glow onto the floor, but the tiles of the kitchen were cold still from the rainy midnight before.

She gently pulls one of your arms up, and you knew it was a signal to spin, so you did, while she kept her eye on you to catch you if need be.

Your back was against her front now, and her hands were placed just on your lower stomach, her head resting on your shoulder, watching your face from the side. She admired every feature she could.

"You are the most loveliest human on earth, you know?" She whispers, her voice like honey, drizzled over your soft skin.

"Can't be me, 'cause you are." You say, and her teeth catches her bottom lip as she tried her hardest not to smile more than she already is.

"We both are then." The two of you share a kiss, both of your hearts warmed by your new favorite warm morning together, and by the love you held.

---------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @simp-erformarvelwomen

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 05

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 15.9k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ 😇😇😇😇 *chin hands sweetly* STRAP IN, FOLKS!!: GANGBANG. this chapter will include three brothers having sex with the reader at the same time (but not with each other). if this bothers you, please feel free to skip!, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (f+m giving/receiving), fingering, face fucking, exhibitionism, voyuerism, da booty getting ate like groceries, assplay, name calling, daddy kink, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, marking, spitroasting, cumplay, bukakke 😭, honestly this is a hot ass MESS and i should be sorry but i’m not 🤷🏽‍♀️ a/n⇢ well, hello~ long time no see!!!! i'm super pumped about this chapter because it has literally been in the works since i planned this whole fic out years ago 😭 a lot of planning and struggling later, and WE FINALLY HERE 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 i am so relieved that this finally exists in the world and not just in my head lmao. thank you all for hanging with me for this long and being so patient. i hope this chapter lives up to your expectations 😈 only the epilogue left! 😮‍💨👀 mood for this chapter is this song~ hope everyone enjoys!

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

Days quickly morphed into weeks, time continuing to flow even without you consciously noticing it pass you by. You were just so busy, both your schoolwork and your unconventional part-time job a whirlwind of activity that left you too preoccupied to do much else. Your already scant social life was starting to suffer, but honestly? You were completely fine with that—a neverending schedule of sex, sleep, and studying was more than enough, and it was highly unlikely you would be able to fit anything else onto your overflowing plate anyway.

It was expected for you to not have that much free time, anyway. Jimin’s was waning too, as the further the two of you got into your studies, the busier you both became. You still texted often to make sure each other was alive, but with your differing schedules, the new normal became not getting to see him in person for weeks on end.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing steam. Burning the candle at both ends was finally starting to catch up with you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it other than focusing on powering through it. This was the career path you chose—your dream—and so you simply just had to bear everything that came along with it. You were willing to put the work in to reach your goals, and you just kept reminding yourself that how you were living now was just a means to an end. 

Not that you at all only found the Kims to be a means to an end. Yes, they were paying your way through school, but you still really enjoyed the time you spent with each of them. They were all great company in different ways, and at this point, the only time you were freed from the library’s clutches was when one of them wanted to take you somewhere, so you found them to be more of a welcome distraction than anything else. 

Unfortunately, that still didn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, you were bone tired.

You had always been good at compartmentalizing. But though you tried your best to not let your slowly-building fatigue show, even your new employers could tell that you were being ran a bit ragged. Namjoon came to pick you up for a date one day, and all it took was one long look at you while you were trying to buckle your seatbelt for him to put the car in park and hustle you back upstairs instead, despite your protests. You thought that maybe he decided to forgo your movie plans for much more carnal activities, but once you were back inside your apartment, he sprawled himself onto your couch and reached for you. You were confused, but when you reflexively took his hand, he simply pulled you down with him and easily folded you into his body. 

God, he smelled good. And was comfortable and warm, so it didn’t take long for you to nod off, despite only being fifteen minutes into whatever Netflix movie he had put on. Namjoon spent his scheduled date letting you snore into his chest, and when you woke up hours later, groggy and discombobulated, you found him already gone and a blanket thrown over you.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he must have said something to his brothers. The next day, seemingly out of the blue, you got an email notification that Wendy, Seokjin’s assistant, had canceled an upcoming work lunch that had been on the calendar for weeks. (You highly doubted the lunch itself was canceled—just that Jin had decided to go alone.) And you were so used to Taehyung’s frequent visits that when he didn’t stop by for four days in a row, it became blatantly obvious that something was amiss. 

They were giving you space.

But if you were honest, though you appreciated the sudden breathing room in your schedule, all of them suddenly pulling out of the arrangement was making you uneasy. This was a job, after all, and you weren’t fully holding up your end of the bargain. Hell, the week before had been your period, so you hadn’t slept with any of them then, either. And, considering the fact that all three Kims were set to go on an overseas business trip soon, the amount of leave you were inadvertently taking was quickly adding up.  

You needed this money. You needed this money, this was not what they agreed to, and you were nervous you were starting to frustrate them.

To their credit, none of them ever seemed to be. Early on, when your period made its first appearance as the perpetual wrench in your plans, Seokjin had casually informed you that he was totally fine with just putting a towel down. However, when he saw you weren’t nearly as enthused with the idea, he simply gave you an easy shrug and said, “Then take whatever time you need.” His brothers had been equally as accommodating, and have been ever since (though Taehyung sometimes still liked to playfully pout at you when you told him Aunt Flo was in town).

But the fact was, you ultimately weren’t holding up your end of the bargain, and that knowledge was constantly hovering in the back of your mind and making you a bit anxious. That was why, days before he was scheduled to leave for his three week business trip, you took initiative and asked Taehyung if he wanted to come over. 

Both Seokjin and Namjoon had already graciously canceled their standing appointments with you for the second week in a row, but Taehyung had never had a standing appointment. He was always much more spontaneous than his brothers, and that personality trait was no different when it came to you, so that’s what you were counting on.

[1:32] Hey! Did you want to come over tomorrow? [1:32] Or later today, I guess

Despite it being so late, Tae apparently hadn’t gone to bed yet. He was a bit of a night owl, like you.

Taehyung [1:34] Well hello~ Taehyung [1:34] So nice to hear from you, sweetcheeks. How’s it been going? [1:35] Sweetcheeks, Taehyung? Really? Taehyung [1:35] What? They’ve always looked pretty sweet to me 😌👀

You scoffed, amused and fond. Always an incorrigible flirt, that one.

[1:35] Yeah, okay lol  [1:36] So if they’re so sweet, what are you gonna do about it?

A pause, one slightly too long for someone whose phone was in their hand and had been actively responding to you only moments before. You knew you had him even before his reply finally came through.

Taehyung [1:37] What time?

The next day, you focused on getting as much of your work done as you could before the hard stop of when you knew you had to start getting ready. You took a long shower, letting the hot water relax your stiff muscles before carefully maneuvering into the lingerie that was still prettily packaged in the bag from the boutique you got it from, untouched on the floor of your closet since you bought it.

You hadn’t seen him a while, so it only made sense to you to make things a little more exciting than usual. Spice it up. Honestly, sex with Taehyung was always anything with boring, but the thigh-highs you slipped into were just as much for you as him. You had been so focused on your studies that you couldn’t remember the last time you wore anything other than court-approved suits, sweatpants, or pajamas. It would be nice to feel something other than just tired again. To feel desired. Sexy.

And even you could admit the outfit you had chosen was sexy. A crimson, lacy bodysuit thing that did little to obscure the dusk of your nipples and disappeared between your asscheeks. The matching thigh-highs, joined with garters. You even had a pair of heels that you planned to wear—ones that made your legs look a mile long, but hurt like a bitch every time you attempted to wear them out. Despite their shortcomings, you were willing to slip on the deathtraps because luckily, for this particular occasion, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere in them, nor would they stay on you for very long. 

You were even planning on putting on a little makeup, on properly doing your hair for the first time in weeks and giving the bun you had been sporting a rest. However, all it took was a knock on your door to put an end to all those extras.

You frowned at the sound and padded over to your front door, happy you had already thrown on one of your law school hoodies to keep yourself warm until the festivities properly started. The sight of a familiar man through the peephole, hands resting comfortably in his slacks, threw you off.

Automatically, your hands were disengaging all the locks, were swinging the door open. “You’re early—”

Whatever words you had next immediately dissipated on your tongue. Taehyung was there, but he apparently came with company. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with a perfectly logical reason for why all three Kim brothers were at your doorstep right now.  

“Your hair,” you blurted, your scrambled brain latching onto the easiest subject first.

“Hmm?” Taehyung ruffled his newly dyed locks, the onyx hue a stark difference from the silver you were used to. “Oh yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you all week. My dad wanted me to dye it to a more ‘appropriate’ color before the conference. But whatever—it was time for a change, anyway. And this will be much easier to upkeep.”

You could only continue to stare at him as he spoke, your eyes naturally drifting over his shoulder at your additional visitors. 

All three of them were dressed pretty casually, which was normal for Taehyung and Namjoon, but less so for Seokjin when not in the comfort of his own home. The soft pink of his sweatsuit was a stark contrast to the sharp intelligence of his eyes, and he met your gaze for only a few seconds before he was turning to meet Namjoon’s instead, a pinch in his brow. 

Taehyung spoke again before either of them could say anything. “You gonna keep us out here?” he teased, casually leaning against the doorframe.

That finally jumpstarted you out of your haze, scrambling to move out of the way and gesture them inside. “Yes, of course. Come in!” Before your nosy neighbor caught them and assumed you were slutting it up.

(She would technically be right, but still. It was the principle. Your life was none of that judgy old shrew’s business.) 

Tae strolled in like he always did—like he owned the place—but you noticed his brothers’ strides seemed a bit more hesitant than the confidence you were usually witness to. Namjoon’s mouth was slightly pursed in the way you’d long learned meant he was thinking. Why did they seem as confused as you did?

“Hi,” you hedged anyway, a small, puzzled smile on your lips. “It’s been a while. Sorry if I’m acting weird—I just wasn’t expecting you, so I’m a little thrown off.”

Understanding immediately crossed Seokjin’s features, but you only got a second to see it before he was whipping towards his youngest brother, appalled. 

Namjoon was looking at him too, clearly irritated. “Are you serious, Taehyung?”

“What?” you asked, gaze flitting between the three of them in hope of finding some sort of clarity. 

“You never asked her?” Seokjin snapped.

“You know that’s not cool, man,” Namjoon sighed, an agitated hand running though blond locks.  

Why were they standing in your hallway and having whole conversations in front of you like you weren’t even there? “Never asked me what?” you cut in bemusedly, a little louder than you intended. It worked, at least, all three men immediately turning back to you.

Taehyung, for his part, looked properly contrite, cringing a little at the exasperation in your voice. “I’m sorry,” he told the room before placing his attention solidly back on you. His eyes were soft and sincere. “It truly slipped my mind, and I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t think.”

“When do you ever?” Seokjin snarked, but you ignored him, focused solely on Taehyung.

“What, Tae?” you encouraged gently. “What are you sorry for?”

It was clear from the hunch of his shoulders that he felt bad. “Um…”

“He invited us to come with him to meet you today,” Namjoon supplied. He gave his little brother a disappointed shake of his head. “But that’s not a decision for him to make. Is it, Tae.”

“I just knew that none of us have seen her in a while,” Tae whined. “And _____, when you reached out yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity since we’re about to leave the country for a few weeks.”

“I should have known better,” Seokjin muttered below his breath, looking heavenward in his annoyance. “I’m really sorry about this, _____. You never marked group activities as a no and I assumed Taehyung actually asked you like an adult, so I thought you were on board. I can leave.”

You blinked, still trying to grasp what was going on. “You were…trying to share your time?” you asked Taehyung slowly.

He nodded meekly. “I don’t mind sharing,” came his honest answer.

“But does she,” Seokjin scoffed, rubbing his temples in irritation. “That’s the only thing that matters. And to think otherwise is just selfish, Taehyung.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” The words left your lips before your brain could even register them, likely spurred on by how the increasingly chastened expression on Taehyung’s face. The three of them looked at you in surprise.

“It’s okay?” Namjoon parroted, an eyebrow raised in question.

You swallowed, mind racing to actually consider the consequences of what your mouth had just offered. But your nod of confirmation came almost immediately, because you knew Taehyung had never been trying to trap you. One of the qualities that simply made him him was his spontaneity, and while that made him fun and interesting to be around, it also was a double-edged sword that could easily make you end up in situations like this.

Tae knew none of them had seen you in a while, he knew they were soon going to jet out of the country, and had simply been trying to be nice in inviting his brothers along. He didn’t mean any harm.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, giving him a reassuring smile that visibly loosened some of the tension in his body. “You can all stay.”

The words settled between the four of you, heavy in the resulting quiet. Teeming with implication. You still weren’t completely sure what you were agreeing to, but what you did know was that you were going to need something to help stave off the nerves slowly bubbling beneath your skin. You cleared your throat, turning to make your way to the kitchen. “I think I need a drink.”

You didn’t glance back at them, but you could still feel them trailing you. Feel the heat of their gaze, and even the distinct heat of a body against your back, only a whisper away. Instead, you busied yourself with rooting around in your pantry and pulling out a handle of tequila. 

“This for me?” hummed a familiar velvety voice, close enough for you to easily deduce who had invited himself into your space so intimately. Taehyung. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, immediately frozen with what you saw. His eyes were blatantly trailing your figure, undeterred by the obstacle of your sweatshirt and easily roving your stockinged legs and feet. A dangerous smirk crawled across his face that had a delighted shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. “What?” came your stupefied reply. 

“This.” His gaze lingered on your toes, but quickly rose so he could playfully flick the zipper of your sweatshirt. “Whatever you’ve got on under there. Is it for me?”

Heat licked between your thighs at his deceptively light tone. At the way he was looking at you. “No,” you sniffed. Not wanting to give in just yet. “Just something I wear around the house.”

“Well, it’s nice,” came another voice, and you were instantly reminded of your other guests. Namjoon was leaning against an adjacent counter, eyes dark. “You never wear stuff like this for me—Taehyung must be your favorite.”

Startled despite his teasing tone, your hands flew up in protest. “N-No, it’s not that—”

“Of course I’m the favorite,” Tae sassed, throwing you a wink. “It’s okay to admit it, _____. We all know!” 

There was an almost immediate snort from behind you. Technically quiet enough to go unnoticed, but full of just enough derision that Taehyung’s proverbial hackles raised at the very sound of it. His head whipped to the source.

Jin looked deceptively bored, meeting his youngest brother’s glower with a flat stare. A single lifted eyebrow said everything his mouth deigned not worth the effort. What?

Tae scowled at his brother’s obvious disdain, but then, after a few moments, he simply shot an exhale from his nose and shook his head. “You’re clearly goading me,” he chuckled. “But you know what? It’s not gonna work this time. If you’re gonna be a jackass, you can just go.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating your importance in this situation,” Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But what else is new.”

“Guys,” Namjoon sighed, holding up pacifying hands in an attempt to ward off the rising tension.

You observed the whole exchange silently, still too off-kilter from the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in to do much more than look from brother to brother as if you were watching a tennis match. 

This was only the second time the four of you had all been in the same room—with the first being your original meeting discussing the contract. Well, technically third, if you counted that party Taehyung took you to so many months ago—the one that rerouted your life onto this much more interesting path. But the three of them hadn’t really mingled then, so you had been left to speculate their group dynamic. 

Now, though, you were starting to suspect your inklings were true.

Seokjin, the oldest, with lots of responsibility and expectations always set on him. Taehyung, the spoiled youngest who grew up without any of the same restraints, but also without any of the same parental attention. And Namjoon, the calm, stereotypical middle child, the glue who held it all together. The forced peacemaker who made sure that any of his brothers’ unspoken resentment for each other never got too far out of line.

“The only person who can tell me to leave is _____,” Seokjin continued, the sound of your name immediately throwing you out of your thoughts. You straightened, unprepared to suddenly find yourself locking eyes with him and surprised at the intensity you found there. “And is that what you want, _____? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, of course not,” you blurted. You didn’t miss the smug look Jin threw his brother, nor the way Tae’s lips pursed in irritation, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about any of that right now. With a steadying breath, you focused instead on shuffling over to another cabinet and pulling out a glass.

It was starting to hit you. You weren’t sure what in the hell was going on, what exactly it was you agreed to, but whatever it was, you now had all three of your lovers in your apartment at the same time. Respectful of you and your space, but still obviously ogling you—ravenous predators slowly and eagerly circling their next meal.

It all made your skin prickle in anticipation, the thrill of the unknown buzzing in your veins.    

“Choo choo,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically, pouring a healthy amount of tequila into your cup.

Namjoon raised a brow. “What?”

“What?” you parroted immediately, startled that he had heard you.

“I just…nevermind, I thought you said something.”

“Oh. Uh, I was just wondering if any of you wanted any.”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll take some,” Tae piped up brightly, moving into your space before you could blink. Body a breath away as he reached over to you to pull his own cup from the cabinet. You froze at his proximity, unable to look away as he smirked down at you. “Choo choo,” he murmured with a wink.

Before you could react with anything more than a sharp gasp, he was pulling away again, reaching for the tequila bottle.

Jesus.

With a slightly unsteady hand, heart pumping furiously in your chest, you welcomed the burning liquid down your throat, sticking your cup out for Tae to pour you more once it was empty.

“So how have you all been?” you babbled, tone a little too high and strained to be casual. “It’s been so long, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me. Or that you’d made other arrangements or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been paid to be stood up before, that’s kind of embarrassing—” A hand, warm and gentle, rested on your arm, and immediately, all coherent thought escaped your electrified body.   

It was Seokjin, slowly rubbing what he likely thought were calming assurances, but only amping you up more. “She rambles when she’s nervous,” he informed his brothers, the small smile on his lips betraying his endearment.  

“Aw, don’t be nervous, babe. I’ll take good care of you,” Taehyung cooed, effortlessly draining his glass and motioning towards yours. “Want another one?”

No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing you needed was something that could lower your gag reflex even more. Vomming all over them would certainly make for an interesting going away gift, but then they would most certainly ghost you for real.

You shook your head of the negative thoughts, timidly swiping a tongue over your suddenly very dry lips. “So how exactly is this going to work?”  

“The way it’s always worked,” Tae reassured you with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just you and me. The only difference is that they’re here too—but you don’t have to worry about that. I told them they could only watch.”

It took you a few moments to process that, your eyes silently roving over each of them and finding them all watching you right back. Ready, but waiting. 

Look, don’t touch. Another interesting twist to a night that was already looking to be interesting.

“Is that okay?” Seokjin asked, clearly intending to follow your lead. Leaving the ball in your court. And another glance at the other two showed they obviously shared their older brother’s sentiments. 

A memory flickered teasingly in the corner of your mind—the trepidation of being fucked in front of a window where anyone could see. The undeniable thrill that followed the thought of being watched. 

You swallowed. “Yeah,” you finally replied. “If…you want to.”

“Do you want us to?” Namjoon pressed sternly, refusing to let go of your gaze. Communication, he always insisted. Solid consent, or no consent at all. Yes or no.

All three stared at you. You shifted under their attention, a bit out of your element, but ultimately sure. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Okay,” Namjoon simply replied with an approving nod. With a pleased smile that brought forth dimpled cheeks. But then he shifted towards you more, and the slight change in his stance seemed to completely change his demeanor. His intention. “What’s your safeword?”

You knew he knew it; knew he knew you did as well. The two of you had been together enough times for a rhythm to between you to form, so this repeating of superfluous information was likely solely for his brothers’ benefits.

“Cinnamon.”

“And if you can’t say it?”

“Tap you 3 times.”

“Good.” 

“Safeword?” Taehyung chuckled incredulously, eyes a little wide in surprise. “Well shit.”

“Yeah, and I know how to use it too, if you get out of line,” you teased, but your mind was already elsewhere. It didn’t matter that Tae was the one who would be actively playing with you today—you had spent enough time with Namjoon that you had apparently been conditioned. The blond had asked you your safeword, you repeated it to him, and so the scene had officially started. All of your previous unease ebbed away as you couldn’t help but focus instead on what you were all here for. 

Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter and moved to exit the kitchen, brushing against Taehyung on your way out and shooting a pointed look at him over your shoulder. ��You ready?”

“Baby, you know I’m always ready,” he purred, jolted into action and eagerly trailing down the hallway after you. “I’ve just been waiting on you.”

You didn’t bother to turn to see if the others were following you. You knew they were, their very presence somehow making the hallway feel like it was shrinking, overstuffed. Still, you tried not to let that unnerve you, continuing on with purpose until you made it to your destination and were hovering awkwardly next to your bed. 

They all filed into the room, one by one, and you bit your lip, fully out of your element. Three handsome men had allowed you to lure them here, but now that they were? You had no idea what your next move was supposed to be.  

Luckily for you, Tae was more than happy to take initiative, immediately slinking up to your side and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The gesture was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but snort, and he simply grinned, pleased with himself for lessening your nerves, even if only a little. He reached for you without a second thought and you let him, eager to fall into more familiar territory. 

Taehyung’s large hands smoothed over your hips, your ass with clear familiarity. A finger curled under the top of your thigh highs, lightly snapping the elastic against your skin. “You really did this is for me, huh?”

The dark look in his eye had the breath catching in your throat. “Shut up,” you scoffed unconvincingly.

He tsked, the wicked curl of his lips ruining any illusion of disappointment. “You know I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

You could only blink in response. You hadn’t known that. Was he serious? Was this another level to his subjugation, or was he just pulling your leg? 

Before your brain had the opportunity to come up with a proper retort, Tae was reaching out a finger to tap the zipper of your sweatshirt, gaze focused on its slow, teasing sway. “So.”

Your brow lifted, an unspoken prompting. 

The swinging zipper almost slowed to a stop, and when he reached out this time, it was to lightly run his thumb over the metal, to slowly roll it between his fingers. You swallowed, the anticipation of what you knew to be coming only adding to the charged silence between you. Distractedly, the tip of his tongue swiped across his lips, drawing your gaze. “You invited me to play,” he finally continued, voice honeyed amber. Crushed velvet. 

As if he hadn’t been playing with you from the moment he entered your apartment. You tilted your head anyway—an invitation and a challenge. “Then let’s play.” 

A small smile touched his lips, clearly pleased that his teasing invoked yours. But he didn’t say anything else, his response simply to finally guide the zipper down its track. Leisurely, unwrapping you like a present and delighting in the underneath.  

And you had technically dressed yourself to be one, so you let him. Let him take his time so he could fully appreciate the swell of your breasts, the purposeful, flirty peek of your nipples through the scarlet lace. You wished you had had the time to properly do your hair and makeup and slip on the heels you had set aside just for the occasion so he could get your full intended effect, but your less than perfect appearance didn’t seem to dissuade Taehyung at all. No, he simply slid his hands under the fabric when he finally got impatient enough—fingers light and palms warm—and pushed the sweatshirt off your shoulders with eyes that were all pupil. His hungry gaze carefully roved your form, a lingering path from head to toe that made your skin tingle in its wake.  

His lips parted, tongue giving them another distracted swipe, and then he finally moved again, making his way to your dresser. Now that his broad form wasn’t blocking your view of the rest of the room, you were quickly reminded of the room’s other occupants. Seokjin and Namjoon still hovered near the doorway, quiet, but obviously also drinking in the sight of you now that they could see you properly. Your breath caught, not used to having so much obvious desire directed at you, the air so thick with it you could practically taste it, heady and syrupy.

A light scraping sound regained your attention, and when you turned your head, you realized Taehyung had pulled open a particular drawer—one that he had quickly became familiar with since the start of your arrangement. He pulled out the lube he was looking for, but was much more interested in something else in there, if the mischievous look on his face was any indicator. “What’s this?” he asked, mouth a delighted box, and before you could chastise him about going through your things without permission, he was already pulling out your wand vibrator. “You got a new toy?”

“It’s not new,” you huffed, slightly embarrassed despite everything. “I just usually keep it in the shower.”

You saw his Adam’s apple dip at that information. Saw the wheels turning behind his eyes before he was quickly shutting the drawer and headed towards the bed with his loot in hand. He sat on the edge and eagerly motioned for you to follow.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the vibrator he had neglected to put away, but Taehyung just reached for your hand and gently pulled you towards him until you were close enough for him to properly guide onto his lap. “Don’t be like that,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath against the skin inciting a shiver to run through you. “Gotta prep you for the show.”

Ah yes, the show. He had faced you away from him, so now it was impossible for you to forget your captive audience. At some point, Seokjin had pulled your office chair away from your desk, and now he was lounging across the room, in direct view of the bed. His legs were comfortably spread, almost as if it was an open invitation for you to crawl onto his lap instead. Namjoon, on the other hand, was casually leaning against the desk, arms crossed. Eyes dark.

Lips trailed up your neck, quickly regaining your attention. Taehyung pressed slow kisses into the sensitive skin, humming contentedly when you tilted your head to give him better access. His hands dragged up and down your stockinged legs, his exploration only pausing to playfully snap the garter at your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, heat thrumming through your veins at the action. You felt him smirk, and then he was tactfully lifting your legs by the knees and hooking them around his own one by one. Easily spreading  your thighs by widening his own.

Easily revealing to your unsuspecting employers that your lingerie was crotchless.

The sudden display of your pussy had an immediate effect on the room, though no one said a word. The air was so charged with crackling energy that you shivered, almost breaking out in goosebumps at the onslaught of blatant desire. This close, it was quite easy for you to hear how Tae’s breath hitched, quite easy to interpret the excitement of his fingers, still compulsively tracing over the pattern of your stockings like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Inexplicably, you still found yourself feeling a bit shy at the salacious attention you intentionally brought upon yourself, gaze darting to the floor for a few seconds before you finally chanced a look at the other two from beneath your lashes. Seokjin was busy unabashedly staring at your spread pussy, Adam’s apple bobbing, but Namjoon was unabashedly staring at you, your heart pounding when you locked eyes.

The spell was only broken when an impatient hand guided your head to the side, Taehyung demanding your full attention. After lapping against your pulse one last time, his mouth promptly switched course to your own,  the kiss sweet, but decidedly sloppy due to the angle. In any case, it was easy to quickly lose yourself in the warmth of his lips—at this point, it was all practically reflex—and you were so engrossed in the ebb of his tongue that you completely missed the rather foreboding buzzing in the room until something was being purposefully pressed against the most sensitive part of you.

“Shit,” you gasped, jerking in his hold. But it didn’t matter, because Tae’s other hand was gripping tight at your thigh, ensuring you could do nothing but squirm in his lap, breath quickening in anticipation. 

“Hm?” came his casual response. You knew from experience that he only had your vibrator on the first or second level, but the way his restless fingers still plucked at your stockings told you he was nowhere near done with you. Let’s play you had teased, and he clearly intended to do just that. 

Before your thoughts could linger too long on how intense this night was likely going to be, the vibrator was shifted slightly to the side, resting momentarily on your thigh so Taehyung could reach for the bottle of lube and give it a generous squeeze. 

“What’s your plan?” you breathed, the question inane even to your own ears. But the words escaped you before you could even properly process them, needing to say something in an effort to distract yourself from the muted vibrations that were still trickling up your leg to your core. 

Tae let out an amused exhale, clearly not fooled by your feigned nonchalance. He humored you anyway, despite your very obvious failings to suppress a shiver. “Gotta prep you,” he answered huskily, busy warming the lube with his fingers and making them visibly slick in the process.

You only had one moment—two—before you felt him sliding a finger across the seam of you. Slowly dragging the digit up from your entrance to your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves just enough to make your breath catch, then drifting his way back down again.

“Don’t tease,” you murmured. 

That earned you a chuckle in response. “Don’t you think you’re the one being the tease here? Texting out of the blue and wearing this—”another snap of your garter against your thigh, to punctuate his point—“when you knew damn well it would drive me crazy?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like I was being pretty direct to me.”

Another chuckle. “Fair.” And without further preamble, he slipped a finger in you, your relief leaving you in a shuddery exhale. “That better?”

“M-Much.”

“How about this?”

Another finger, plunging into your willing heat and making another relieved sigh escape you at the stretch. “We’re getting there.”

You didn’t have to be able to see him to know he was grinning, always one to be entertained by the easy banter between you. Tae didn't say anything, his response better communicated by a scrape of his teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck, settling to suck on your pulse point. 

You didn’t bother hiding your shiver this time, unconsciously slumping further against him, hips reflexively jerking forward to pull him in deeper.

Taehyung added a third finger, snapping and scissoring and pressing and curling. Seducing your body’s natural resistance until you really started to betray your need, hips canting greedily towards his thrusts, whines erupting from your throat.

“You’re enjoying this already, baby?” Tae cooed, delighted by how responsive you were being. “I’ve barely done anything.”

You just nodded distractedly, the familiar warmth that was building in your core and creeping down your legs making it hard to think about anything else. Still, you couldn’t help your gaze being drawn to the other occupants of the room, who seemed to be frozen in time, dutifully having not moved from their posts. Completely enraptured by the way their brother meticulously worked you open.

Tae breathed hot into the shell of your ear. “You like it when they watch you?” came his knowing whisper, a nip against the cartilage punctuating his point. “Like for them to see how good I make you feel? Hmmm? What if we show them how good you take this dick?”

Your pussy fluttered. Tae cussed under his breath, teased with the wet, pulsing grip of you and falling deeper into his own fantasy. “Fuckkk, you’re dripping all over my hand, baby. I would probably just slide right in, wouldn’t I?”

“Yesss,” you moaned. “I can take it, baby.”

“I know you can. With this perfect fucking pussy. But what if we played some more? Got you nice and juicy for me?”

“I’m always juicy,” you sassed back, but any more retorts died on your tongue when you saw him reach again for the momentarily forgotten vibrator. 

Tae’s arms circled around you, his chin slotting into the crook of your neck so he could get a better look of what he intended to do. The vibrator was turned up from its low rumble and pressed unceremoniously against you, and you yelped, jolting in his hold. It was too much, and you couldn’t help but writhe against him. Still, you welcomed the sudden intensity, desperate whines freely escaping you as you hurtled toward your peak. Tae only fingered you faster in response, the undoubtedly sloppy sounds drowned out by the vibrator. “I could slide right in, but I won’t cause it’s much more fun this way. Especially since we haven’t seen each other in a while. More fun for everybody if take our time, right, baby? So how about you cum on my fingers first, and then you can pick everywhere else on me you’d like to cum?”

You could only moan freely, just like how Tae liked. If you weren’t so distracted by the way he was fucking stars behind your eyelids, you would have noticed just how affected your spectators were becoming at your display. The shifting, the subtle rubbing over pants.

But as it were, you were completely preoccupied by your swift descent into madness, your hand desperately scrabbling for purchase before ultimately rooting itself in the hair at Taehyung’s nape to await your rapidly approaching release. Because at this point, your orgasm was inevitable, your thighs quivering with the sheer force of it, every atom of you hyper-focused on achieving that satisfying end goal. 

Until the sudden sound of a certain voice knocked you out of your trance. 

���Stop.”

You jolted as if touching a live wire, hand immediately wrapping around Taehyung’s wrist like a vice and yanking the vibrator away from you. 

For a few moments, the room was silent, save the rumble of the toy and your heavy breathing. But Taehyung was too baffled to let what just happened slide. “What’s the matter?”  

You nervously licked your lips, too frozen in Namjoon’s dark stare to answer his younger brother.

“You know better,” came the blond’s low admonishment, Seokjin turning to look at him in bewilderment. 

And you did know better—when you were with Namjoon, you were not allowed to cum without his express permission. It was a game the two of you played that you often lost, despite your valiant efforts. It just never occurred to you that you would still be expected to play in Namjoon’s general presence, whether he was the one touching you or not. 

Jittery with your aborted orgasm and nervous excitement, you looked away, your eyes automatically averted submissively to the floor in a last effort to assuage him. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you replied softly.

“Daddy?” Taehyung repeated incredulously. “What the fuck?” In his confusion, his hold on you slackened, and, nervous he wouldn’t take the hint otherwise, you used the opportunity to shift his fingers out of you and stumble forward on wobbly legs.

“Take your clothes off,” was your reply, breath labored and skin already veiled in a light sheen of sweat. You needed to distract him from asking too many questions right now. Needed to distract yourself from just how strongly your body was begging to fall apart.

Tae was still confused, but he didn’t need to be told twice. Off came his button-down shirt, each button popped open just roughly enough that you were surprised none of them ended up scattered across the floor in his haste. Off came his slacks, unzipped and then easily slipped down his slim hips. He paused when reaching for his underwear though, eyes narrowing at something behind you.

You didn’t even get the chance to turn around to investigate what had caught his attention before you felt it—the distinct feeling of someone hovering in your space, close enough you could feel his body heat radiating against you.  

“Hey sweetheart,” came a familiar husky voice, goosebumps rippling across your body at the feel of Seokjin’s hot breath ghosting up your neck. “Can I touch you?”

“Hey,” Tae scowled.

“_____?” Jin interrupted, still only millimeters away. A whisper away, but never touching, waiting for the only permission he truly needed—yours. Not Taehyung’s.  

Without a second thought, you leaned back against him, delighting in the feel of his body slotting so naturally into yours. “Yes,” you breathed, pressing your ass further into what could only be the hard jut of his cock.  

Soft, plush lips trailed up your neck instantly, large hands sliding over your hips and around your waist. You immediately melted into him, your body well-trained and eager for the pleasure it knew those lips and hands would deliver. 

“This wasn’t the deal,” Tae huffed, eyebrows scrunched in irritation as he finally slid off his boxer briefs. Drawn like a magnet, your eyes fell to the bounce of his freed cock, tip already shiny with precum.

Seokjin tutted distractedly, too busy nibbling along your jaw to give his youngest brother much attention. “You need to learn to share, Taehyung. The rest of society learned that concept when we were toddlers.”

“Whatever,” Tae grumbled, clearly not happy with the way the night was turning out. He only allowed his brother a few more seconds to have his way with you before he was reaching for your hands and walking you back towards the bed.  

You gasped in surprise when the world was suddenly off-kilter, your hands reflexively scrambling to hold onto Tae for balance, but it was only when the two of you landed on the mattress that you realized he had purposely tipped you into him, your chests flush. 

“Really, Taehyung?” you laughed, now conveniently in his embrace instead of Seokjin’s. 

Tae just grinned in response, so close that his nose brushed yours. Cheekily, his hands worked the flesh of your behind.

“I’ve been wondering where those have been coming from,” you heard Seokjin say behind you, and your face heated up in realization of what he was talking about, once again shy to be so on display and open for scrutiny. You had forgotten how mottled the skin of your ass still looked, and it was a little embarrassing to be called out on it. Time apart meant the bruises were near the end of their healing stage, but though you no longer sported marks of potentially alarming colors, their faded remnants still branded you in the distinct shape of a hand. 

“If you were wondering, why didn’t you ask,” you countered, tucking your face in Tae’s neck to help hide your flustered state. 

“Because that’s rude,” Jin answered easily, his own hand reaching over to gently smooth over the discolored skin. “And it’s really none of my business.”

“I think they’re pretty,” Taehyung cut in from below you. This close, you could feel the rumble of his declaration, could feel the heat of his stare. Of his want.

“So do I.”

A different voice, one that made an undeniably eager shiver run through you. Slowly, you lifted your head and turned, and there was Namjoon, still standing across from the bed, eyes all pupil.

The way he was looking at you…desire rippled through your whole body in response, your next words leaving your lips before you could even process them. 

“Are you going to touch me too, Daddy?”

The room was quiet, the question marinating long enough that the air became thick and heavy with the resulting tension. Just when you thought you might suffocate, Namjoon finally tilted his head. Slowly—a predator locked in on prey, playing with his meal simply for his own amusement—he stalked closer to the bed. He walked past Seokjin and made it all the way to the foot of the mattress, close enough to touch you if he so pleased.

The burn of his gaze was somehow stronger now that he was closer, a palpable energy that drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help but scramble upright when he was finally right in front of you, clambering to your knees despite Tae’s clear reluctance to let you go.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon asked passively. He looked down at you, seemingly unimpressed by how eagerly you knelt on the mattress, just waiting for him to join you on it. “You already have enough people taking care of you. Are you really that greedy?”

“Yes,” you shivered, the action involuntary but wanting. “Want you too, Daddy.”

“Hm.” The single syllable was dismissive, but your previous time spent with Namjoon had taught you not to take that at face value. That you had to have patience, that if you simply waited him out, you would always eventually get what you wanted.

As if proving your point, Namjoon silently considered you for a few more seconds before his eyebrow finally raised in challenge. “Open,” he demanded. 

Your jaw dropped instantly, tongue out, and he smiled, pleased at your obedient response.  

You weren’t sure you had the energy to be bratty to him today when his brothers were still in the mix too. 

“Good,” Namjoon cooed, all dimples and boy next door. The boy next door who firmly grasped your chin, lifting your head a little and leaning down. But though your eyelashes fluttered in preparation for the slot of his mouth against yours, it never came. Namjoon paused, slanted eyes quietly observing you, then spit in your open mouth instead.

“Jesus,” came Taehyung’s awed reply from behind you, but you were too busy trying not to whimper, thighs squeezing together with sudden want. Namjoon hadn’t told you you could swallow, so you didn’t, drool starting to collect until it overflowed and dribbled down your jaw. 

“Very good,” Namjoon murmured, and this time, he did lean down to kiss you, all wet and sloppy. You eagerly pushed further into his space, blood thrumming with your need for more, but he pulled away before you could get too carried away. He cleared his throat, lips pink and spit-slicked. “Gonna keep being a good girl for us today?”

You immediately nodded, a thrill going through you at the way the action rapidly made his expression steel over. He tsked condescendingly. “Now, now, you know better than to not speak when spoken to.”

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Well, that definitely answers the mystery bruises.” It was Seokjin, now behind you. Somehow you hadn’t noticed him discard his shirt and climb onto the bed, too caught in Namjoon’s spell. You felt his hands drifting across your waist again, roaming up to cup your breasts and lightly pinch at your nipples through the lace. You whimpered, arching eagerly into his touch.

“Oh come on,” Taehyung whined. A turn of your head produced him, naked and sulking in the middle of the bed. “It was supposed to be my turn.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute pout, dutifully extracting yourself from Jin’s hold to crawl your way towards the youngest brother. “Don’t worry, baby. I know how to multitask.”

He greedily grabbed you as soon as you were in reach, holding you tight to his chest and plopping back onto the bed so you were once again on top of him, knees straddling his hips. You giggled again at his antics, flattered by his sudden possessiveness, and Tae playfully nipped at your collarbone in retaliation. 

The bed dipped behind you, and then there was Seokjin again, undeterred by Tae’s petulant behavior. “Not only are you bad at sharing, but you’re only thinking about yourself,” he scoffed, grabbing your hips without preamble. “What about _____?”

Taehyung immediately bristled beneath you. 

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure, but before you could properly defend him, you suddenly found yourself face down and ass up, the sudden appearance of a tongue swiping through your slit rendering you shuddery and brain dead. “Fuck. Jin—”

You felt Seokjin’s smirk against you. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said huskily, hot breath ghosting over your most private of parts. “Couldn’t help myself. You dressed my meal up so pretty.”

That was fair, you supposed. That he made proper use of the easy access your lingerie provided, that he gave himself the opportunity to admire the tiny lacy hearts on your garter belt up close. But Seokjin didn’t allow himself to preen for very long, his focus immediately turning back to the task at hand. Laving hot and slow, your whole body tingling down to your toes.

Unconsciously, you pushed back further into his face, and Jin hummed approvingly, massaging your asscheeks, large hands spreading them apart so he could get as close to you as humanly possible. His enthusiasm has always been so fucking sexy, and you knew he wasn’t playing it up for theatrics when the slurping sounds started. You were that turned on, still frustrated from being led to the edge of the proverbial cliff and not allowed to jump, and Seokjin was more than happy to help himself to the honey he was coaxing from between your thighs. 

A haze was starting to take over you, completely focused on how good he was eating you out, on how hot you were, sweat and desire prickling your skin. Your hips mindlessly circling while you vaguely tried not to drool on Taehyung’s chest. 

Not that Tae seemed to mind much, hands idly roaming whatever stretch of skin he could touch, content to watch how your expression twisted and eyes glazed over as lust easily towed you under.

Seokjin pulled back a bit, chuckling at your whines of protest when he did so. But the familiar click of a top being popped open shut you up, lifting your head and looking over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions. The lube was a bit cold when it hit your asshole, and Jin wasn’t shy with the amount he squeezed out. His eyes were completely blown, enraptured by its slow decent, watching the lube trail through your pubic hair and down your slit. A distracted tongue swept across his lips, completely focused on sliding his fingers through the slick and making everything somehow even more wet. 

You shivered at his touch, thighs twitching as his long fingers smoothed the lube over your bundle of nerves in sure, purposeful circles. He leaned in again, tongue blazing a hot, meandering trail up the inside of your thigh and giving the sensitive skin there a playful nip before his fervent licks returned. Tongue slipping down to caress your clit, wandering back up to dip into your throbbing cunt, and dragging back down again. 

It was on one of these passes that Seokjin accidentally drifted a bit too high, your undulating hips causing him to lap over your asshole instead. You moaned, loud, and he immediately froze. 

It was clear neither of you had been expecting that reaction. But while you could only describe the look on his face as light surprise, you couldn’t help but duck your head in embarrassment.

“What’s the matter?” Taehyung breathed into your hair, wondering what halted the activities.

You weren’t really sure what to say, now embarrassed by your embarrassment. But it turned out you didn’t have to say anything, Seokjin curiously testing the waters by leaning in and placing a chaste kiss against your rim. When you didn’t do anything but suck in a breath, his tongue dipped out again for a tentative lick. You shuddered, ass reflexively bucking towards him instead of pulling away, and that was all the confirmation he needed. His hands palmed your asscheeks again, spreading them open to give himself more room to press his tongue against you more confidently, and you trembled in response.

It was a foreign sensation, but not bad. You technically hadn’t marked this as a no when signing your contract, but it never even crossed your mind that getting your booty ate would be a very real possibility. You weren’t against assplay per se—you simply had never experienced it before. And never in a million years would you have expected it to feel like this. 

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you couldn’t help but whimper. Electricity licked up your spine when his sloppy tongue slowly circled around the tight ring of muscle. Unbidden, your hand reached back, gliding through his hair before rooting itself and pulling in an attempt to get him impossibly closer to you. 

Seokjin hummed approvingly at the your enthusiasm, the sound almost sounding like he was blowing bubbles with the way you were now shoving his face between your asscheeks. Leaning somehow further into it, he ate you out with a vigor that told you he was clearly pleased you were using him to get yourself off. You melted into his ministrations, a whine falling from your lips when he gently slipped his sinful tongue inside you, the foreign feeling making your toes curl in unexpected pleasure. 

You were getting worked up. With nothing more than his mouth, Seokjin was easily restoking the blazing fire within you that only minutes before had been forced to embers. You were getting worked up, and the more you moaned and gyrated against him, the more Taehyung’s fingers twitched restlessly against your skin. If you had been in your right mind, you would have noticed his rising agitation and wouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and pulled you away from his brother. Instead, you blinked at him dazedly, pelvises flush after momentum had you inadvertently scooting further up his body.  

“I’ve shared enough,” he growled, irritated. “It’s my turn now.” Another pull, and you were back on his lap, his leaking erection grinding pointedly against your slick folds. “C’mere, baby—fucking sit it on it.” 

You were dazed, already pretty fucked out even though things were just getting started. The constant influx of pleasure was striking all your coherent thought, unable to understand anything other than finally being able to cross the finish line. And you knew from experience that Taehyung’s massive dick was a great way to get there, so you didn’t mind at all when he continued to maneuver you as he pleased, large hands canting your hips at a proper angle to receive him. 

Your breath hitched when he finally sunk into your fervid body. You were so turned on and wet at that point that it didn’t hurt the slightest, but he was so big that the very pressure of him forcing your walls apart caused your eyes to roll back in your head, your nails pressing crescent moons into the caramel of his skin. “Ungh—”    

“Shit,” Tae groaned, fingers tightening on your thighs at the wet grip of you. “Feel so fucking good, baby. Always so fucking good.”

He was buried balls deep, too on edge to give you any more than a few seconds to adjust before he was bucking wildly into you, easily scraping against your spongy nerves with every unforgiving stroke. You couldn’t do much more than take it, unfiltered moans readily escaping you. Hot and low, like they were generated deep in your pussy and Taehyung was hard at work fucking them up and out of your mouth.

You were so worked up at this point that you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, your walls tightening more and more by the second, your whole body trembling in preparation of the inevitable.

 “_____,” Namjoon snapped.

It took some effort to lift your head from where you had buried it in Tae’s neck, startled into blearily looking up to meet the middle brother’s steely gaze. Your mind raced, flustered and trying to understand how you had somehow forgotten about him. When his lips curled with a whisper of a smirk, it instantly dawned on you that him fading into the background had been entirely by design.

Namjoon had allowed you to be distracted by his brothers. Had allowed them to have all the fun while he quietly watched your slow, uncontrollable descent into carnality. Because he knew that all he had to do was wait, and you would inevitably disobey him.

And then his fun would start.

You had played your part in his little game, cockily swaggered your way right into his trap with thigh highs and a smile. Too naive to notice that the situation had been rigged from the start, and now that everything was in motion, it was far too late to save yourself from your oncoming reckoning. 

You were gasping, the pistoning of Taehyung’s cock setting all of your nerves alight and making it hard not to meet him thrust for thrust, trapped in meeting Namjoon’s stare through your wet lashes. He had moved to stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to touch, and he was the only person in the room who was still, bafflingly, fully-dressed.

“Please,” you babbled, too far gone to even know who your begging was directed towards. “Please, I—” Your body spazzed violently, only contained by Tae’s bruising grip as he relentlessly continued to plow into you. “Ohhh godddd! Fuckkk—ah, ahhhh—”

Against your best efforts, your cunt locked down, hard. So hard you forgot to breathe, pleasure and relief finally flooding your veins as you stuffed your face into Tae’s neck to ride it out, bucking and whining and incoherent.

Taehyung made a loud, choked noise, the feeling of you pulsing around him throwing him further into his trance. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, fingers digging into your thighs punishingly. Drilling into you harder, your release heightening his desperation for his own. Biology making him single-minded, manic, even when you started to mewl in oversensitivity. “Squeezing me so tight. Cream me good, baby. Fuck.” 

You continued to tremble, nothing more at this point than sparking nerve endings. Tae lifted his head a little to lick into your awaiting mouth, kissing you wet and wild and desperate while still plunging deep inside you.  

But even though you did nothing to attempt to control the torrent of whines freely spilling from your tongue, in the back of your mind, you still had the good sense to be nervous. Because even without seeing his face, you already knew Namjoon was pissed. 

You had failed.

As if confirming your thoughts, fingers wrapped around your hair and pulled, naturally ripping your lips from Taehyung’s and forcing your head to lift. With nowhere to hide, you were forced to meet the full intensity of Namjoon’s glare. 

“What did I say,” he demanded darkly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Your blood pounded excitedly.

“Cut her some slack, Namjoon,” came Jin’s mild reply from behind you. Your eyes widened, not expecting his dismissive tone to go over very well. 

Namjoon didn’t acknowledge his older brother, instead focusing his attention on his younger. A carefully controlled tempest that was moments away from unleashing its wrath. “Taehyung. Move.”

The swivel of Tae’s hips slowed, but didn’t stop. He was too on edge, too close to joining you in bliss. “I—g-give me a minute, hyung—”

“Move.” 

You could feel just how reluctant Tae was to comply—his rutting finally stopped, but his hips still instinctually twitching in a primal need to keep fucking you. Still, something in his brother’s tone made his protest cut off in his throat, and after a few labored, frustrated breaths, he obediently slipped out of you. 

You whimpered at the loss, your toes curling at the resulting friction. Between the cum that had long been leaking from you and dribbling down your thighs and the mess Tae’s cock was making in his excitement, it was hot and sticky where your bodies slotted together, and you couldn’t help the way you senselessly started to grind against him, lashes fluttering at the feeling.  

Namjoon scoffed at your clear desperation. “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” he snapped, grip still firm in your hair. “For him to cum inside you.”

You shivered at the thought, a little embarrassed that you were so obvious. “Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, releasing a shuttering breath when you felt Tae’s slick cock jump against your stomach at your admission.

“Well you’ve been bad,” Namjoon replied slowly, as you weren’t very bright, “so you don’t get to have what you want.” He took a step forward, legs knocking into the edge of the bed, now only a breath away, and you licked your lips, mentally preparing for what you knew would come.

But before he could get any closer to you—before Taehyung could even slide from beneath you—there were once again hands on your hips.

“Hey!” Tae snapped irritably, but whatever he had to say was drowned out by your surprised, rather pathetic choking when, with a delicious roll of his hips, Seokjin unexpectedly sank inside your pliant body, thoroughly making himself at home exactly where Tae had been forced to vacate. You had been so focused on Namjoon that you somehow missed the weight shifting behind you, the telltale rustling of clothing as he pushed is sweatpants down his hips enough to free his cock so he could stuff you the hilt. 

You had been saved by the eldest Kim, at least for now. But for how long would he really be able to delay your punishment?

Since he was still holding you by the hair, you could easily see the emotions flicker across Namjoon’s face at his older brother butting in, but his expression quickly settled into something mirroring cool indifference.

You knew better. Namjoon was a patient man, but you doubted he would let your disobedience slide so easily. 

Seemingly uncaring of either of his brothers’ vexation, Seokjin rode your ass, hips rolling forward in constant waves, strokes long and deep and pointed. Clearly wanting to keep you mewling for him. 

And as you did just that, you rapidly realized that saving you from Namjoon’s wrath had never been his intention. No, he simply liked you just like this, whiny and shivery and too fucked out to care that you were drooling and desperate. 

“You feel it, sweetheart?” he asked, voice melodic and sweet. Leaning over to press plump lips up your spine and sucking on a rather sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 

“Yesss,” you whined. You could feel everything, could feel the ripple of your ass every time his hips slammed against it, could feel every ridge of his cock that scraped against your insides. Sparks shot through you after every stroke, your clit forced to drag across Tae’s stomach with the force. “Fuck, you’re so big and deep, fuck, fuck.”

Seokjin just hummed, playing your body like a fiddle and pleased by how it was responding to him. Breath stuttering, toes curling, fingers gripping the sheets.

But despite how good he was making you feel, you weren’t too fucked out to overlook Namjoon this time. No, this time forgetting him was impossible, the middle brother doing nothing to hide his massive presence. He towered over you, intently watching you get railed by his older brother, and the barely suppressed fury you could sense radiating off him was making your cunt throb and head spin. 

“I’m sorry, D-Daddy,” you stuttered, everything tingling at the look he fixed you with in response. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Are you?” he asked lowly, a tic in his jaw. He let the question marinate for a few moments, let you simmer beneath his intense stare. Just when you felt the overwhelming compulsion to apologize again, he finally reached for you, a single finger lifting your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze directly. With a patronizing tilt of his head, he popped open the button on his pants. “Then make it up to me.”

You were already pushing yourself to your hands and knees, desperate to please. Taehyung’s hands drifted up your sides to steady you, your body trembling from the way Seokjin still reamed into you, undeterred. You reached out for the band of Namjoon’s pants, trying to get to the important bits, but he simply tutted and smacked your hand away.

“Mouth,” he said simply, the single word full of derision.

So you leaned forward again, this time using the tip of your nose to part his fly and give you proper access to his clothed cock. He was thick and swollen already, straining against the material, and you felt him stir with interest when you mouthed at him through the fabric. Coquettish licks lapping hot against the length of him and making his hips reflexively shift forward, unconsciously chasing the stimulation. You licked and sucked until there was a noticeable wet patch, doing your best to show that your apology was sincere and give him your full attention. 

But that was hard to do when his brothers were busy giving you their full attention.

Seokjin was in a trance, fingers sinking into your thighs so he could properly hammer into you. Thrusts steady and coaxing your pussy to leak its praises, your thighs sticky with your essence. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, was getting noticeably antsy beneath you, fingers increasingly twitching against your damp skin the longer his brothers got more of your attention. You looked down, and the furrow of his brow and downturn of his lips were your last clues to his growing jealousy before he took action, hand reaching up to drag through the mess you were making before his thumb sought your clit, rolling and pinching. You bucked and squealed, the extra stimulation rocking you to your core and making your walls pulse dangerously enough that you found yourself squirming to escape him, grabbing Tae’s wrist for the second time that night in an act of self-preservation.

He was undeterred, rerouting his focus to your chest instead. With impatient hands, he yanked on the cups of your bodysuit, a concerning ripping noise immediately filling the room at the action. Before you could even say anything, he was already lifting his head to eagerly bite and suckle on your newly freed tits, tongue curling around a pebbled nipple and mumbling “I’ll buy you another one.”

Switching from one erogenous zone to another did nothing to quell your desire, but at least the stimulation wasn’t as intense. This you could safely enjoy, lashes fluttering, chest inadvertently pushing further into his face in silent encouragement.

And encourage you did, Taehyung creating enough suction with his mouth to properly burst capillaries. Contentedly littering your skin with marks you allowed, comfortable in knowing this was a region easily covered by your clothes. 

Determined not to lose focus, you leaned forward again to continue giving Namjoon your full attention, trying to strategize the best way to get at him without using your hands. But either Namjoon finally decided to take pity on you or he was getting impatient too, because it was his own hands that reached down, only bothering to disturb his waistband enough to free his already leaking cock.

You didn’t know if it was a conditioned response from your past escapades or simply the extremely sexy sight of him giving himself a few firm, confident pumps. Either way, you felt it when you started to salivate, aching to properly taste him.

Your enthusiasm must have shown on your face, because the blond man simply smirked down at you knowingly, thumb slowly running over a prominent vein and further smearing his own mess around. “Well?” he prompted, almost sounding bored. You knew he wasn’t. That he was rock hard and dribbling precum, that his eyes were hooded yet laser-focused on the way his brothers devoured you—those were clues enough. Still, you couldn’t help the fire his feigned disinterest lit low in your belly, desperate to please him.      

You started low, turning your head so you could playfully tongue first at his balls before making the long trek up the massive length of him, taking care not to accidentally involve your teeth from the way Seokjin’s thrusts were rocking you forward. Finally, you took him in your mouth, suckling on the weeping head. Humming contentedly at the salty taste and meeting his blown eyes from beneath your lashes.

Namjoon’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything, hips twitching forward when you pressed your tongue into his slit.

You didn’t notice at first. To be fair, you were plenty preoccupied with everything else going on, with all other sensations. So you didn’t notice Taehyung’s hand drifting over your hip until he was cupping one of your asscheeks, fingers teasing further inward. 

Before you could say anything, a finger sunk itself into your cunt, right next to where Jin was still plowing into you. You groaned, eyes rolling back at the added stretch, but the oldest brother wasn’t as pleased by the intrusion.    

“Taehyung,” he said gruffly, voice deep with irritation and thinly-veiled hunger. But Tae just pumped the long digit into you a few times and then slowly backtracked, lightly trailing the slick back up the cleft of your ass.

“Relax,” came Tae’s mellow reply, and when he started circling a questioning finger around your rim, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Seokjin. 

Still, you shivered, breath stuttering when you realized where this was going. When the finger did nothing more than circle and lightly press against you, you released Namjoon’s cockhead from between your lips, eyes fluttering. “Yes,” you breathed hot against Namjoon’s crotch, understanding what Tae was wordlessly asking you. 

A glance down produced Taehyung, eyes all pupil, tongue lolling thoughtfully in his mouth as he watched you tremble above him, tits rippling and swaying from Seokjin’s force. Finger mindlessly continuing the massaging of your hole. He locked eyes with you, making sure he understood, and then slowly started pressing the slick digit into your asshole.

You whimpered, fighting against your instinct to clamp down on him. Relax. Relax. It didn’t hurt exactly—was just pressure where you weren’t used to having any. And Tae made sure to go at a glacial pace, made sure to keep massaging your insides, to help you acclimate to the intrusion. 

Distantly, you felt Jin’s thrusts slow to something much more languid, and you had a feeling the way your body was opening up for his youngest brother was more than a little distracting.

“Good?” Tae asked shakily, sinking into you bit by bit. 

“Yes,” you slurred, completely fucked out. Tae’s always had large hands with long, elegant fingers, and right now, when he kept going further and further in, you were becoming privy to just how long they actually were. Your eyes threatened to roll back when his last knuckle finally breached you, and when he gave you a cursory tap after a few seconds, you had to swallow a moan. 

Rather affectionately, Namjoon started caressing your face, bringing your attention back to him. Dazed, you put him back in your mouth, continuing to suck him and trying not to think about how Seokjin was revving his pace back up and Taehyung was tapping your insides in tandem. Namjoon just smiled softly down at you, and it was so sweet that you almost don’t see what happened next coming, too preoccupied with everything else that was going on. Gently, his hand drifted up—and gripped you securely by the hair, cock suddenly surging down your throat. You immediately gagged, throat repeatedly convulsing around him, and he grunted appreciatively at the feeling before pulling all the way out. Cheeks still sweetly dimpling at how wrecked you were.

And wrecked was the only way to describe you. You were gasping, jaw glistening with spit. Eyes watering and whole body twitching from all the relentless stimulation.

Namjoon only gave you a few seconds to gain your bearings before a pull of your hair had your head snapping back. Before his cock was pushing back into your panting mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat this time, taking stuttered breaths from your nose when his fucking began in earnest. Tried your best to ignore the way your jaw threatened to lock from trying to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

It was a lot. You were feeling sensations from so many areas at once—ass, tits, mouth, cunt—that your brain was absolutely swirling trying to figure out which brother’s ministrations it should be focusing on. And though the pleasure pumping through you was borderline unbearable, you couldn’t even let that overflow of emotion out, your wails stuck bubbling in your chest because you were too busy lewdly gargling on Namjoon’s cock.

You remembered, all those months ago when you’d first been considering whether you should take this job, how you'd poured yourself another glass of wine and reread the contact for the nth time thinking well, I guess I do have three holes. That’s certainly convenient. 

Now that it was happening, however—now that all three of your holes were stuffed and both your mouth and your pussy were dribbling and messy and straining with effort—now, it was nothing short of intense. Nothing hurt, but you were so completely and entirely overwhelmed by all of the feeling that you thought you might just simply burst, your nerve endings crackling free and raining over the room like fireworks.  

It’s too much. It was too much, but right when you were starting to consider giving Namjoon two taps on the wrist—a metaphorical yellow—he backed off on his own, easing some of the pressure. And suddenly your mouth was free, a string of saliva still connecting you to his glistening cock before the tension of him stepping back eventually made it snap.  

Namjoon had eased some of the pressure, but he couldn’t stop more from surging forward in its place. Your body could only take so much of their tortuous teasing before it succumbed to its baser instincts, and it seemed you had finally reached your boiling point. In a trance, you pressed your hips backwards to meet Seokjin’s next stroke, forcing him deeper inside you and making you both shudder. And that small action was all the encouragement he needed, his primal instincts screaming at him to ruin you.

Drilling into you with new purpose, Jin fucked the remaining breath out of your lungs, staccatoed bursts of ah ah ah pouring from your drooling mouth. Panting like an animal in heat, moaning so wantonly that you would be embarrassed if you weren’t already so completely braindead with pleasure. 

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathed, watching your rapid unraveling in amazement. “You’re so fucking hot. Fuck.”

Before even realizing what was happening, you finally shattered around him, your bones liquifying at the intensity and causing you to collapse on Tae, writhing and choking into his neck.

“There you go,” Jin encouraged, words wobbling as he tried to weather the force of how tightly your walls were squeezing him.

Taehyung was curling his finger within you to lengthen your orgasm, was absently rubbing your back to guide you through it. “So perfect,” he whispered, lips fondly brushing against your temple while you shook.

When it finally ended you were left twitching and sensitive, too dizzy from the sheer force of your climax to register the thunder rolling across Namjoon’s face.

His brothers did, though.

An audible squelch filled the room when, without warning, Seokjin pulled completely out of you. Confused, you looked over your shoulder at him, only to suddenly find yourself lifted and tilted, Taehyung surging upright and taking you with him. Unprepared to catch yourself, your back easily hit the mattress, now finding yourself looking up at the three brothers who hovered over you.   

“Hmmm.” Namjoon pretended to think, tone calm but eyes steely. “I could have sworn I specifically told you not to do that.”

“You did,” Jin cut in mildly, looking between the two of you curiously.

Your eyes widened, unprepared for this turn of events. You never would have pegged Jin as such an instigator, but apparently he was very interested in seeing the consequences of your continued disobedience.

Your betrayal must have shown on your face, because Seokjin’s lips pursed in amusement. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “You’ve been so good for me, but we have to be fair. And unlike Taehyung, I know how to share.”

“Am I or am I not sharing right now?” Tae griped, unamused by the dig. But you were no longer paying those two any attention, your focus now fully on Namjoon and the leisurely way he was now stripping out of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you hedged, knowing before you even said the words that they would do jack shit to appease him. “It just felt too good…”

Namjoon raised an unimpressed eyebrow, throwing his t-shirt on the floor as if it offended him. “All you keep saying is sorry,” he mused. Down went his pants and underwear, kicked out of his way. His knee hit the mattress, Taehyung shifting to the side so Namjoon could finally stalk over to where you lay, fucked open and wet. Cautiously, you met his stare, the breath halting in your lungs when you recognized the retribution that was undoubtedly about to come. 

“But sorry means nothing if you don’t modify your behavior,” he tsked, eyes darkening. “So. I don’t believe you.”

That was all the warning you got before he was crowding into your space, grabbing you by the ankles and hooking them over his shoulders. Caging you in with his body, pressing close enough that his cock easily slid over the mess of your cunt, making you mewl at the sensation.

And that involuntary reaction didn’t seem to help your case with Namjoon. “More?” he scoffed, seemingly displeased, though the way he rocked his length through the seam of you told a different story. “After all that, you still want more?”

You were exhausted, thighs still quivering from your last orgasm. But you couldn’t help the way the weight of his body and the slide of his cock were causing your pussy to pulse. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed, angling your hips down so you could deliciously meet him on his upstroke.

“And it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” he mocked, spearing you to the hilt in one go. You choked at the intrusion, not expecting him to enter you so suddenly. At this point, you were fully prepped enough to take him, but, like his brothers, Namjoon was still a lot to take all at once.

Particularly when he had already made up his mind that the best way to punish you was with his cock.

You quickly gathered his gameplay from the immediate way he started rutting into you, not giving you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Simply railing you into the mattress, your legs over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep enough for you to feel it in your throat.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, fingers curling in the sheets, biting down on your lip enough to taste metal. “Fuck fuck—”

“What?” he taunted, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Making sure he scraped your g-spot on every thrust. “This is what you wanted, remember? And it’s all about what you want.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You could already feel yourself ready to clamp down again, your extremely sensitive pussy overreactive to any and all stimulation. “I want it, I want it, yesss—”

He pressed impossibly closer, bending you enough that you felt the burning strain in your legs, and that did the trick. Before you could nervously start to ponder whether you were flexible enough for what he wanted to do, you were cumming, hard, back attempting to bow with the force of it but only succeeding in making your whole body lock up and your vision blur.

Namjoon didn’t slow down during your climax, and he certainly didn’t slow down after. He fucked you like a machine, undeterred by how your pulsing walls tried to suck him in and keep him there. Undeterred by how you hopelessly whined and squirmed in overstimulation. And when you suddenly heard a familiar buzzing noise, there was nothing you could do but meet his intense gaze with wide, alarmed eyes.

“What?” he demanded, pressing your long-forgotten wand vibrator right on your clit and making you immediately jerk. The caramel of his skin was already glistening and beading with sweat, but he seemed long from tired. “You think you can cum on everbody’s dick but mine?”

It was too much, the near animalistic pace of his fucking paired with how high he had turned the vibrator making your hands shoot up, scrabbling along his biceps in a panicked response, your body now entirely on autopilot, desperately trying to save itself from its fate. 

“Please,” you heard yourself beg, choking at the intensity. Legs jerking uselessly on his shoulders, nails scratching marks down his skin.

But the word that would make him stop never passed your lips. And so he continued to ignore your unsuccessful struggling, fucking you right back to orgasm, this time somehow even stronger than the last and stealing all air from your lungs.

He felt it, of course. Felt exactly how hard you were squeezing him, the tight grip of your pussy evoking the grit of his teeth. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to milk me,” he growled, moving the vibrator away from you just enough for you to suck in a breath. “Come on, take this dick since you want it so bad. Take it!” 

And you had no choice but to take it, trying your best not to black out as he forced the coil within you to snap, again and again. You were shrieking, but you couldn’t even perceive your own actions anymore, swept completely by his unforgiving undertow of pain-lined pleasure. Namjoon was fucking you stupid, scrambling your brain as easily as if it were an egg, forcing you to your most primal of reactions, your most basest of self. Thrashing beneath him, desperate tears trickling down your cheeks, spit freely trickling from your wailing mouth.

It felt neverending, this exquisite torture, and just when you were starting to get distressed about how much longer you would be able to take it, Namjoon’s thrusts started to turn sloppy.

“This is all you wanted, right?” he panted, hips stuttering. A welcome warning for what was soon to come. His focus rapidly shifted from your orgasm to his own, and the way he tossed the still buzzing vibrator to the side was nothing short of impatient.

You blinked up blearily at him, the reduction in stimulation helping you slowly return to your body after being stuck the stratosphere. 

“Wanted my nut? Agreed to fuck all of us at once just so you could get more of it, isn’t that right, babygirl?”

His intense stare told you he expected an answer, but all you could do was whine in response, hesitant to admit it. Pussy pulsing at the very visual he had conjured up. Warily, you glanced at the other two brothers, nervous at what you might find there, but one look quickly evaporated all uncertainty.

Though they had moved out of the way for Namjoon, they hadn’t moved far—still close enough for you to reach out and touch, still close enough for them to hover over you and get a close view of the action. Still close enough for you to see understanding dawn across Seokjin’s face, to see pure astonishment take over Taehyung’s.

Namjoon spotted your division in attention and was having none of it, a hand guiding your jaw until you were focusing on him again. “You like being a dirty cumslut,” he prompted mildly, your heart racing in response. Slipping a thumb between your plush lips and humming approvingly when you sucked on it, tongue twirling. “Don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned hoarsely, the very admission making your whole body vibrate. The continued hammering of your sensitive core making you want to reflexively squirm away, though Namjoon’s heavy body ensured you had nowhere to go.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being a dirty cumslut.”

Taehyung whimpered, and it was easy for you to deduce from the rapid movement you could see from the corner of your eye that he was jacking himself off while watching you. Well and truly done with delaying his own pleasure.

And from the rather manic way Namjoon was looking at you, he was obviously on the same wavelength. “And do you know how much cumsluts love it?” A quick swipe of his tongue over his panting lips. “They want it in them. On them.”

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, nearly sobbing at the strength your want. Your head whipping around, desperately pleading with all three of them. “Please let me have it! I’ve been so good, please—”

“Holy shit,” Tae groaned, eyes rolling back in his head. “Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you it all. You want it all?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes yes yesyesyes—”

Abruptly, Taehyung was pushing forward into your space, hovering more directly over you and treating you to the sight of how those long fingers were furiously pumping his cock. He was panting, a prominent vein in his neck visible because of his efforts, little whines escaping him as he viciously worked his slick length.

There was shifting on your other side, and your focus immediately turned to Seokjin. He looked back at you dazedly, lips parted, chest flushed at your attention.  

“Please?” you whimpered, fully aware how pathetic you must have looked but not giving a single shit. So long as you got what you wanted. You needed them to give you what you wanted.

The oldest immediately softened at your pleading, always so willing and eager to please you. “Of course,” he breathed, hand already moving over himself with long, tight strokes. He shivered, hips reflexively jumping forward at the stimulation. “W-Where?”

A shift, and Namjoon was pulling back from you, maneuvering your legs back to the bed and sitting back on his haunches. Despite this new position, he never let his cock leave the comfort of your walls, continuing to hammer into you, jaw locked in concentration, balls smacking into your ass with a lewd slapping sound. Focused only on racing to the finish line.

“Anywhere,” you shuddered. “Everywhere, just…” Your entire body was on fire and you could barely take it, the anticipation of what was about to happen making you writhe over the sheets, whimpering pathetically. Your tongue lolling out your gasping mouth, an eager target.

And then finally—finally—you were given what you asked for. Loud, uncontrolled moans spilled from Taehyung’s lips, swiftly becoming desperate before one last squeeze of his cock had him cumming, his release spraying hot all over your breasts and slowly trailing through your cleavage. 

You moaned with him, delight buzzing through your veins at being marked so intimately, and the sound seemed to trigger Namjoon, who immediately pulled out of you, expertly pumped himself a few times, and then ejaculated with a long, drawn-out grunt. After essentially edging himself for most of the night, the amount of cum he gifted you was more than generous, most of it painting your pussy in long ropes, but some of it inevitably ending up on your belly with how aggressively he was jerking himself off.      

The sight of it all, the feeling, was so unbearably hot that you almost came untouched, eyes rolling back, pussy pulsing with interest despite how exhausted you were. And your obvious pleasure was what finally set off Jin, teeth digging into his lower lip while his seed spurted white across the lower half of your face and slid down your jaw, some of it delightedly landing on your awaiting tongue. 

You hummed contentedly, immediately licking the thick, heady remnants from your lips so you wouldn’t waste a drop. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands slowly and sensually trailing over your own body. Basking in it all. Purposely smearing their mess over wider stretches of skin—pinching gently at your nipples, dragging your fingers between your tits, gliding over your hips, drawing light, sticky figure eights around your clit before dipping a bit lower and slipping two cum-coated digits inside your hot walls. Your hips twitched, lazily chasing the intrusion on reflex. Simply enjoying being so completely and utterly satisfied.   

You were so transfixed and in your own world that you completely forgot about the three other people still in the room, greedily feasting on the undeniably filthy way you savored what they gave you. You weren’t sure how long they let you be, but it was a voice finally breaking the silence that slowly lured back to reality.          

“_____?” 

The voice was gentle, yet deep, the spell cast over you immediately broken at the sound of it. It was Namjoon, hovering over you again, lips quirking into a small smile as he watched the fog disperse from your eyes. “How do you feel?”

You let out a satisfied sigh, pulling your fingers out of your pussy with hum. “Tired,” you admitted, voice raspy from the activities. “But amazing.”

His smile widened, cheeks dimpling. “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Taehyung was laying on the bed with you, arms wrapped around your sticky form. Just like always, his sweaty body slotted easily against yours, happily nuzzling his face into your neck and apparently wholly unfazed about the fact that you were completely covered in spunk. “You’re amazing,” he chirped, pressing a flurry of kisses into your skin and making you giggle. “You know, when you told me you liked cum forever ago, I didn’t realize this was what you meant.” 

“You never asked,” you shrugged, somehow still timid despite everything that had just happened. “What did you want me to say, exactly? Hey Tae, do you mind doing me a solid and shooting the club up? Or maybe can you give me a nice, relaxing facial?”

The pure bafflement of his expression had you laughing again. “In what world would I ever say no to that?” he demanded incredulously. 

Amused by the turn in conversation, Seokjin bent down to press his lips against your forehead in gratitude before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“Of course,” you replied, moving to direct him to your bathroom before Namjoon stopped you with a pat on the thigh.

“I’ll show him.”

You couldn’t help but watch their strong, naked forms leave the room, eyes drawn to the musculature of their backs and buttocks.

“Hey.” Tae poked you in the cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes from catching your ogling. “Focus. I’m talking to you.”

“What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” 

He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, though he was undeterred from getting the answers he sought.

“I told you what I wanted,” he reminded you gently, pressing another kiss against your jaw. “You know you could have done the same.”

You shifted in his hold, sheepish. “Tae, all of this isn’t really about me…”

“What, so just because we’re paying you, you’re not supposed to enjoy it too?” he scoffed. “Baby, as we’ve just proven tonight, it’s more fun when we all have fun.”

“I always have fun!” you protested, but you were prevented from elaborating by Namjoon returning with a washcloth. He climbed back on the bed, reaching for your ankles and guiding them apart.

“Open,” he directed, his tone containing none of the dominance it often had when he usually uttered the word. You obediently followed his instruction, a soft sigh escaping your lips when he pressed the warm cloth against your thoroughly battered netherparts and started cleaning you up. 

For a little bit, Taehyung watched your makeshift bath in silence, not even saying anything when Namjoon left to rinse off the towel and came back with a freshly damp one, gliding over the stained skin of your face and chest before they started to crust over. In fact, Tae didn’t speak again until your spot bath was finished and Namjoon was clambering back in the bed with the two of you, an arm slinging low over your waist as to not disturb where Tae’s rested. Pulling you against him until your chests were flush.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us on our trip?” You could feel Taehyung’s pout against your skin, displeased at the idea of being away from you for three weeks.

You huffed out a laugh, slinging a leg over Namjoon’s hip to settle more comfortably into your new position as the filling of a TaeJoon sandwich. “I’m positive. I have a lot studying to do and frankly, I’m not completely sure I can walk anymore.”

“Who said you need to walk?” Namjoon cut in sleepily. 

“We can pay someone to walk for you,” came Tae’s enthusiastic, yet ridiculous offer. “We’ll be going to meetings, but you can just roam the city if you want. Or relax at the hotel. You can lounge by the pool all day and put all your food and drinks on our tab.” 

Though it certainly sounded tempting, you were fully aware what the tradeoff of that makeshift vacation would be, and the absolute last thing you wanted to think about after the crazy intense session you just experienced was sex. So, despite Taehyung’s wheedling, you managed to stand firm in your decision, completely fine with waiting until they were back in the country to even consider spreading your legs for any of them again.

And you were justified when Seokjin finally reappeared, fully clothed, rubbing a towel through his hair, and informing you that his assistant Wendy would be in touch to schedule his next session for sometime after he returned.

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

[milaisreading]

Hello! It’s my first time ever requesting in tumblr and i really really love your works! I was wondering if you could do a scenario about manager who’s bad at playing soccer and players ( u-20/BLLK/neo-egoist…) got into argument about who will teach her xd

Author: Hello! Happy to hear that I am your first request and I hope you like this! Thank you for the support and have a great day🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Come on, (Y/n)! It will be fun!" Bachira urged the girl, who simply shook her head, looking at the football he was holding in disgust, then nervously laughed.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Why? Come on, we will go easy on you!" Isagi said, wanting to play football with her. It was a relatively peaceful day at Blue Lock anyways, aside from Kaiser pissing Isagi and Rin off, it was peaceful.

"That's not a good idea because..." (Y/n) gulped, a little embarrassed to admit she was downright horrendous at the sport.

'They will probably make fun of me for it!'

"Come on! Just relax for the day." Kunigami and Chigiri urged. (Y/n) looked around the place nervously, trying to find some saving grace. Most of the Blue Lock members were in their room, using today as a rest day. The ones who were here: Isagi, Kunigami, Bachira, Chigiri, Reo and Nagi were essentially trying to get her to play with them. Rin was out with his brother somewhere, while Kaiser and Ness were with their team, so there was nobody she could use as a scapegoat... well, except...

'Fuck my life!' She cringed and looked over at the U-20 captain.

"Aiku said he might need my help with... something! What was it again?!"

Oliver looked at the girl, startled that she even addressed him. The others were in disbelief too, knowing that (Y/n) didn't have the best of relationship with him, but she was now looking at him like he hung up the moon.

"What dream is this?" Bachira muttered and pinched his cheeks.

Oliver watched with a raised eyebrow as she escaped Nagi's grip and ran to him.

"So... ready for me to help you with that... thing?" (Y/n) asked the dumbfounded captain, who recovered pretty fast and nodded his head.

"Of course, come on."

Oliver smiled and pulled (Y/n) along, sending the group a smirk as they were glaring at him.

Once gone, Bachira kicked the ball in rage and grinned at the door.

"When did he get so close to (Y/n)? Didn't we keep him away from her?"

"Apparently not good enough... Why my dear (Y/n), why pick that hobo over me?" Reo sobbed as Nagi cracked his knuckles.

"We should have beat him up instead of playing bowling." The albino said.

"Maybe... maybe (Y/n) would rather play football with him instead of us..." Isagi whispered, hurt and panic lacing his tone.

"What?! This is a tragedy, I am way better than that womanizer freak! Why?!" Chigiri cried out.

"You all... do you think that (Y/n) might have a thing for Aiku? I mean... did you see the way she looked at him?" Nagi questioned, causing everyone to look at him in horror.

"Nonono... she hates him. I am sure we just saw shit." Kunigami protested the idea, there is no way their sweet manager would like him.

"Well... you know what they say... the line between love and hate is thin." Isagi gulped, causing silence to fall on the group.

"Why are you guys so down?" Rin raised his eyebrow as him and Sae approached the panicked group.

"(Y/n) wants to marry Aiku and play football with him!" Bachira yelled, causing Sae to spit out his drink.

"The hell are you guys talking about?! Why would (Y/n) want to play with a lukewarm hobo?" Rin asked, already getting agitated.

"We tried to get her to play football with us, and she picked Aiku." Reo answered solemnly.

"You all are dumb, for 2 reasons. One that you think lukewarms such as yourselves are worthy of asking (Y/n) that." Rin started, ignoring the glares he received from his teammates, and then continued.

"And 2nd for believing (Y/n) would like Aiku."

"You didn't see the way she looked at him." Kunigami said.

"What do you mean by that?" Sae spoke up, already pissed at his teammate.

"She looked like he hung up the moon and stars... like he is a God or something." Chigiri explained.

'That little piece of shit!' Sae and Rin thought.

While the group was plotting Oliver's death, the captain himself was over the moon as he talked about thr various places he visited in Italy. (Y/n) would chime in with a question here and there, finding him surprisingly pleasant to talk to... well unless he tried to flirt. They were now in the training area designated for the U-20 team, with (Y/n) doing some check-ups on equipment.

"Say, why did you pick to hang out with me?" Oliver suddenly asked, causing (Y/n) to look away from her clipboard and at him.

"Oh... I'm... no reason!" She said as Oliver got up and moved closer to the girl.

"I don't believe you. Now tell me what it is about, Cutie?"

'Kill me, what are these nicknames?!' (Y/n) cringed and contemplated on if she should tell him or not.

"I am very much open and transparent with you, shouldn't you be the same? Seems only fair." Oliver said, leaning down.

"Rin, don't start a fight no- did you just bite me?!" Isagi flinched as him and Kunigami held back the two brothers from starting a fight. Nagi sighed and opened the door to the U-20 training hall, only to choke on his spit at the scene he was seeing.

"That piece of shit..."

"What is it?" Reo raised his eyebrow and peeked inside too, only to shriek away right after.

"What?" Chigiri and Bachira asked.

"Aiku is trying to kiss (Y/n)!" Reo exclaimed as the others froze for a moment.

"Nevermind about peace, I am beating him up first." Kunigami said, letting go of a seething Sae.

"No way, I will!" Bachira added, grinning maniacally as Nagi and Reo walked into the room, ready to pull their manager away.

"Ah... I just don't know how to play football... and I was too embarrassed to admit it." Nagi and Reo stopped in their tracks and looked at each other.

"Sorry for using you like this! I was just embarrassed to say anything... it sounds rediculous."

Oliver hummed and nodded his head, then put his arm around her shoulders and grinned.

"Then I will teach you the basics. What better way than to learn it from a captain-"

"Hold it! You are not teaching anyone anything!" Reo yelled, pulling (Y/n) away from Oliver and glared up at him.

"What are you guys doing here?!" (Y/n) asked, horrified that Reo and Nagi heard her.

"We came to get you! Don't listen to anything he tells you!" Reo said and pointed at the offended boy.

"Yeah, we can teach you how to play." Nagi yawned, sending a glare to Oliver.

"We? You mean me! I am the best ranked one in Blue Lock." Rin chimed in.

"Cut the crap! I can do a way better job!" Bachira said as he smiled at (Y/n).

"I am the fastest and most patient one of you all. Please, I will do that." Chigiri said calmly, earning an eyeroll from Isagi.

"Not as patient as I am."

'Good God... over football of all things.' (Y/n) groaned as she watched the group argue.

"Come on, let's do something else. Ego-san will hear the commotion soon." Reo whispered to (Y/n) and pulled her out of the training room, Nagi following them close behind, satisfied that the girl was away from Oliver, who was getting scolded by Sae and Rin.

[jhuzen]

Hey hey heyyy! new fave author that's you! i'm not really sure if you're taking requests but the ask box is open but you can just delete this if you arent :")

sooooooo bear with me but i need to heal with your angst fic. you write so well and i think you can pull this off because idk if its just me but sometimes the reader is giving off dom vibes. so again if you're comfortable may i pls request for a reader that just makes our tall genshin men feel smol? that's all pls and thank you <3

the shivers [gn/m.reader]

big-brained anon. i will call you primordial anon for being the first one! i was just about to finish the inazuma ver. of workload and i’m vvvv happy that i got this! yes, i will take requests, but i have yet to make some rules, but trust me this one, i can definitely do and hopefully do some justice. i’m not sure which tall genshin men you wanted, so i played it safe and called upon all of the playable tall men ;-; i hope whoever you’re looking for is in here. gn/m reader as always (also it’s cute that you think the reader radiates dom energy wwwww)

dark and suggestive content so please be warned ehe. dom reader with tall playable men ft. diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, ayato, thoma, itto, and alhaitham. also pls excuse my manners on alhaitham’s, yours truly lost the 50/50 and i am taking it out on him 😔

Alhaitham

Agony. Pure agony gnawed somewhere within Alhaitham’s unbelievably still human heart. It throbbed with want and ached for your attention, but you simply weren’t a mind reader (or maybe you were, but somehow magically, you suddenly couldn’t read his pain at the moment). His eyes narrowed as you conversed with the juniors that sought you out from left to right — you were an alumni in Akademiya of course, a popular one at that and as the professors sang your praises, the scholars couldn’t help but take chance.

You were far more approachable than the current scribe after all. It’s only logical that the students would flock you and that alone could barely get a rise out of him. However, this one calls for a special circumstance — an outlier, if you will.

And as his gaze burned at the sight, he still couldn’t fathom how you couldn’t feel his silent wanting, he’d even dare as to say he was brooding at this point, deprived of your attention that you often promised he has.

All because of a previous classmate of yours.

You felt it alright, the uncomfortable heavy feeling at the back of your head. And you’re wont to the realization that it may have been your dearly beloved Alhaitham, him and his impatience growing by the second. And you could feel the exasperation that brewed inside him, boiling like a dormant magma suddenly growing active, but there was a little devil on your shoulder, urging you to be a little bit more mean to him, and continued to talk to Tighnari.

Your companion wasn’t any dumber, in fact, he was the first one to feel the heated stare directed in your direction. And while he expressed his adamance in leaving to cease the Akademiya lunatic’s jealousy, the knowing mirth in your eyes asked him to stay a little longer. To aid you in your little game.

“You ought to pay attention to him,” the forest ranger laughed a little, feeling the tiniest bit of pity towards the infamous coolheaded scribe, now left at your mercy. Tighnari, being one of your best mates in your years in Akademiya also had to succumb into your ruthlessness. Truly, you and Alhaitham were a match made in abyss for putting up with each other’s antics. “I could already feel my spine crawling with dread.”

“Indulge me with just a few more minutes, my good friend. I did truly miss you after all — what with my work often moving and you barely coming in the city when I am home,” you laughed a little and Tighnari only shot you a disapproving look at your stalling.

“Come and visit then. If I remember right, you promised Collei some trinkets from your trip in Mondstadt.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved at Tighnari as the hybrid finally left your clutches with an equally mediocre enthusiasm. And finally, you spun on your heel, excusing yourself for awhile from the scholars who were most likely hoping to hold an audience with you.

You walked back to the secluded area, far from the prying eyes (though you didn’t mind if there were onlookers, a little humiliation is always fun). Alhaitham’s eyes were trained back on the book, though you figured his attention was miles away from the texts and still is fixated on your presence.

Sliding the books out of Alhaitham’s way, you finally sat on the table and gently grabbed his chin, a soft gaze from you was all it took for the man to melt. He subtly leaned into your touch and you relished in the fact as he breathed in the scent of cologne that you would always dab on your wrist, inhaling your scent like a drug, “You needn’t be so jealous, love. I’m always here and I could never betray your trust. To simply do so would be the death of me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Is that so? I must be projecting then. Perhaps because of that one little girl that thought you were up for grabs.” Your words had Alhaitham immediately stiffening under your touch as he finally abandoned the book, hands grabbing onto your thighs so tightly — a silent apology that he somehow forgot.

But you yearned for a verbal apology, you wanted to hear the remorse in his voice even if you had to pull it out of him in sobs and soft moans. Alas, you were much too impatient as your hand on his chin shifted, now grasping his cheeks and squishing them together.

Through his forced puckered lips, he mumbled out a muffled apology, “M’s’rry…”

A laugh tore away from your throat, “I know you are.” You leaned down, pressing a kiss to those soft lips of his before dauntingly sticking out your tongue and giving a rather carnal lick afterwards, effectively wetting his lips.

Your vice grip in his cheeks was nothing against his quiet whimper of plea as you devoured his still puckered lips with your fervent licks and mildly aggressive nips, uncaring whether or not the skin of his lips broke and bled. And even then, Alhaitham was sure you absolutely enjoyed the taste of the metallic iron as long as it was his. And nothing could get him going more knowing that despite the toying you did with him, the way you seemed mean at times and absolutely refused to acknowledge him, you were wrapped around his finger.

A soft groan left your lips when he squeezed your thighs with much force — and while that could have been a cue for something else entirely, you had enough awareness not to take him there and then and opted to pull away with a conniving grin.

Quiet pants left Alhaitham’s lightly swollen lips, completely red and absolutely drenched in your saliva. You only gave him one more smile before reaching out to wipe away the drooling mess you’ve made on your beloved scribe.

“Thank you for that quick snack break. I ought to entertain more research questions. The Amurta scholars these days are so jovial! It gets my heart pumping to see their cute eager faces. I’ll see you later, love.”

And this time, Alhaitham let you go with little to no protest, feeling that he himself was also fulfilled for the moment.

𐂂

Ayato

Impatience flooded through Ayato’s system as he continued to keep up the facade in front of the other commissioners. He was far from an exquisite mood as he continued to listen to the ludicrous suggestions of his fellow politicians. He has seen children pitch better ideas on how to catch a tanuki when he walked the streets of Inazuma City with you a couple of days before.

And speaking of which, you were the love hidden behind closed doors. The darling jewel of the Kamisato clan — a nobleman from the faraway lands of your proud nation. Only Celestia knows how such an important figure such as yourself ended up in the doorstep of the Kamisato household. But only his sister and trusted keeper would know how a prolific man such as Ayato end up in your strong and caring arms.

The thought of you suddenly had Ayato feeling weak in the knees, doing who knows what — and he dreaded to see you lonely, and in desperate need of company. Ayaka was often out and about, handling the surface affairs, and Thoma was much too busy with the upkeep of the teashop when he’s not in duty as a housekeeper and your companion. He dreaded the thought of you emerging from the household and suddenly being seen by the rest without his approval — his secret love.

He bore through the absolutely god-awful meeting with the mere thought of you keeping him sane through this absolutely maddening (important) boredom.

While Ayato was preoccupied with unrestrained concern for your wellbeing, you weren’t all too bothered with being left in the deafening silence of the Kamisato household; as a matter of fact, you reveled in the tranquility your beloved’s home have offered you. You took care of everything like a good spouse, taking off some labor from Thoma and even learned a few hobbies you can teach Ayaka.

You were much too independent to be helpless. You liked to move and surprise people with the extent of your prowess. It was enticing to see their surprised reactions, throwing people off guard was a pastime you could never hope to give up.

Perhaps it was why you loved Ayato all the more. His reaction could never be beaten by any other person. Especially when it dawned on him that he too can be outsmarted and overpowered, to be underneath someone and to feel what it’s like to relinquish control. Not politically though, you could never take that from him. Otherwise, he’s all in your hands.

And none was all different when Ayato finally arrived home, a breathtaking yet cheeky smile plastered on his flawless face. His voice reverberated through the house as he entered, laced with eagerness as he stepped on the tatami floors as he made his way to where you are. And unsurprisingly, you were by the engawa, indulging the serenity of the place.

“Welcome home, lovely,” your voice already had him growing weak, almost missing a step as he sat behind you, arms already lacing around your sturdy shoulders. He inhaled your scent fresh and sweet, only fueling his intoxication. “How was work?”

“Long and tiring. I abhorred the time wasted not being with you,” you could feel Ayato‘s pout against the nape of your neck and laughed. You indulged him and his nuzzling against your skin, letting him go through all kinds of euphoria. You licked up every single attention he gave you and Ayato was no different as he continued to take advantage of what little control he has in this moment.

“It’s not all so bad. It‘s not like I’m going anywhere.” Your words quickly reeled Ayato in as desperation seeped through his veins — a desperation for you to make good on your promise and to never, ever break it. Hah. Like you were even foolish enough to do so. “I should hope that I can hold you on the same promise?”

Your tone made it out a suggestion but Ayato shivered at the thinly veiled threat — knowing that he can’t escape your grasp ever. That he’s shackled so lovingly within you; a promise of raw love that only you and him can enjoy and no one else. Of course, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He submitted into your touch as you turned around and swiftly pulled him into your lap.

“Absolutely ravishing,” Ayato’s breath hitched at your compliment. He’s heard people sing their praise to him in a hundred words, but all you had to do was speak and he’s already so, so weak, completely under your mercy. His hands made its way to your shoulders to gain some grounding, a footing in this world with all the haze your words injected into his mind.

Ayato’s smile was lazy, eyes half-lidded as he leaned in to steal a kiss you’ve been cruelly depriving him of since his arrival, and you were quick to reciprocate. He almost fell out of your lap when your hands gripped his hips tightly, oh so possessively, and he could only imagine the marks you’d leave if he wasn’t wearing his layered uniform at work.

Pulling away from the kiss, he left one more peck, “You’re doing my head in, y’know? Take some responsibility.”

You wouldn’t have been Ayato’s beloved if you did otherwise.

The wooden floorboards creaked as you shifted, rocking forward further with a hand on the back of Ayato’s head as you laid him down. Ayato had to stifle a quiet whine as your lips found themselves attached on his chin, considering that his clothes left so little room for an opening in his neck. He quivered as your lips moved further up, just on the side of his bottom lip where his beauty mark was. Archons, he’s never felt so defenseless as he did with you.

Alas, you were a tease and soon left him alone as you sat up, his legs immediately wrapping around your waist to pull you back in as he flashed you a sly grin, “What say we bless the stars tonight with a show?”

You scoffed with a smile, “No, thank you. I’d get jealous.”

The Yashiro commissioner was purring in delight.

𐂂

Diluc

Reluctance was a feeling that Diluc should have expected and prepared for, only for him to do the exact opposite of it. Instead, he was blindsided and only has himself to blame. Though, quite frankly, he’d rather have you take responsibility instead.

He was never one for conversations and actively avoided them as much as possible unless it was a talk about business. Diluc could never find himself engage into a mindless chatter, and often kept to himself. Though, granted he has the traveler to thank for keeping him company and prying him open at times, but other than that, his interactions with people are limited to the staff of his winery and the tavern, sometimes with Kaeya, and on certain nights when he’s bartending, he’d make the effort to speak to kick out a drunkard bard out of the tavern.

All of that however boiled down into nothing in comparison to the hurricane that was you. None of his experiences (if one could even call it that) could have prepared him for the situations that you would put him in. They were so unbearable, and often times it leaves him completely exasperated at your antics.

But even so, he’s willing to bear it all if it meant he could be with you. Diluc would go through the most compromising positions you would put him in if it meant he could gain even an inkling of approval from you. And it may just be his brain trying to comfort him, but he does feel significantly more lax in the company of others ever since you became a part of his peaceful life.

All of a sudden, he’s holding up better in mundane talks and people noticed. The patrons of his tavern were all flabbergasted to see that the air around Diluc has cleared and that it doesn’t feel like a chore to him to even talk to them. Even the traveler and their emergency food noticed that there was a different feel to Diluc upon their return to Mondstadt to fulfill some commissions. Adelinde could not be any prouder for her master as he indulged those small talks.

If only she knew why.

Case in point — Diluc has gotten better in socializing because of you. Only because anything seems far easier than being subjected into your shameless cruelty.

A quiet wail left the Darknight hero’s quivering lips as his back collided against the walls of your shared bedroom. The hurricane that ruthlessly terrorized his otherwise peaceful and dull life was you — relentless and absolutely merciless. All logic from his mind slowly went down the drain as you ruthlessly devoured him, like a lion forced into fasting feeding on a gazelle; you went in for the kill.

Your lips left no room in his neck as you enjoyed your feast. Much like that ridiculously gruesome analogy, you were just as deprived, forced into being a good partner for your beloved Diluc as he went on with a week filled with nothing but conducting business for the winery as well as doing his duties as the protector of Mondstadt while its occupants fall into a collective slumber.

Not like you were any better though — you were also just as busy, collecting research samples for your investigative partner, Albedo. And all of that resulted into missed quality times, as you were often away before Diluc could wake up and you were already asleep before he could come home. It was ridiculous.

But freedom was a theme that Mondstadt upheld and suddenly, there was free time. A sliver of chance where Diluc came home earlier and you went home a little later, only crossing paths on the way to the winery. And all that eventually led to your ferocious and undeterred expression of love.

Diluc could already see the glimmering stars as he tilted his head up to leave more room in his neck, eyes screwed shut to keep his mind off of the embarrassing position he’s in — held up against the wall by you, barely supported by anything but the wall behind him and your hands that gripped on his thighs when you lifted his legs up.

“Have you any idea how much I’ve longed for a chance to even breathe you in?” Your harmless growl against the skin of his neck was enough to send him into a spiral of embarrassment and pride. He never had much chance to feel someone’s incredible want for him until the day you came along and Diluc soon found that this was a feeling he could never let go of.

Alas, your question, rhetoric or not, was left unanswered when all of the experience he’s had in conversing with others left his pretty little mind. Just the feeling of your possessive hands grip onto his skin so tightly had him forgetting the every alphabet in Teyvat’s language. Short ragged breathing left Diluc’s lips and he finally opened his eyes when he felt you pull away, granting his neck to see the light.

Vicious and angry marks are bound to decorate his skin by the looks of it and he was no better than you — completely drowned in excitement and thrill.

You could see the wanton need in his eyes, now completely glossed over with a haze that looks all too familiar, you could even say that the feeling’s an old friend of yours — what with you being completely insatiable. That is until Diluc came into your peripherals and suddenly you had the urge to drag him where you are; and ever the pliant gentleman this man is, he quickly caved, only to realize just how ruthless you are.

Even so, it’s not completely unwelcome. Diluc’s mind muses as you dove back in, this time with an urge to leave him breathless for a much different reason.

𐂂

Itto

Excitement was not so much of a stranger in the company of Itto. He was always so exuberant, even to the point of it placing him in trouble under the Tenryou commission. And while the gang cheered him on (other than the reliable and trustworthy Shinobu), it still is, at the end of the day, nothing but trouble.

However, beyond that, the only thing that Itto could get consumed in excitement without getting in trouble are his ramblings about you. To say that he was your biggest fan would be an understatement, and just when people have started to think that no one could be prouder of Arataki Itto than himself, the moment your name leaves his mouth, no one else is escaping the plethora of praises he has for you.

You were his pride and joy and to be able to have you as his was nothing short of a miracle — well, not so much, considering that surely no one can resist Itto’s irresistible charms. And as he boasted about you and how you were all over him, people can only accept the fate they subjected themselves into. The usual victims of his rambling could just as easily ace a test that was all about you. People knew of the things you favored and the ones that didn’t, the things that can get you to stop doing what you are doing just to indulge yourself.

And you let them. You figured there was no harm done in Itto blabbing away who you are. Really, people knew you but you rarely ever showed yourself around them, being one of the work types in contrast to your partner’s easy going life. And besides, it was nothing short of amusing to see people’s faces when they finally catch a glimpse of the Itto’s priceless jewel that is you and you’d often hear people comment offhandedly about Itto’s words not even doing you justice.

You enjoyed those moments — the praises that you hear from left to right were welcomed with a captivating and grateful smile from yours.

But all that pales in comparison to the feeling you get when you praise your beloved, watching him completely fall apart in your arms as your honeyed whispers filled with promises of love and sin get him going.

“And then I managed to pick the biggest onikabuto! And when I got to duel I almost won!” Itto faltered a little as the realization dawned on him that it was yet another loss in his books. Fortunately, he quickly recovered, “N-Not that I didn’t lose because I suck! I let those kids have a taste of victory!”

“Hoh? Like before?” You entertained Itto’s whims as you continued to cut slices into the apples that his gang had managed to procure on their adventuring in the outskirts of Inazuma. “How generous. I could only hope to see the glee in those children’s eyes.”

Itto jumped up from his seat and headed over to you, arms snaking around your hips with his chin resting on your shoulder. You picked up a slice and fed it to the oni, who so gladly obliged your little act of service. In any case, someone could mistake the dynamics of your relationship with someone if they were to see just how docile you are and how well-behaved Itto seems to be.

But much like your job, you liked to work behind closed doors and you were far more appreciative with your own work when it’s only seen by your own eyes.

You swiftly turned around, still encased with Itto’s strong arms with an apple in hand. But such an innocent gesture can only be deciphered as deceiving, especially with the way your eyes glinted. It was dangerous and sharp, on the prowl like a hungry predator, and in this case, Itto was always subjected into the role of a prey. Still, with Itto’s lack of awareness, he can only give you a beaming smile, so filled with sweet innocence and… stupidity. Something you can appreciate more as this man’s sole corruptor.

“Just hearing you being such a nice oni to those children…” your voice shifted and even with Itto’s constant naïveté, he can hear the seductive danger behind your words. “You must’ve been a very good boy, huh?”

He quickly perked up, unable to resist your words. He almost felt his knees buckle — and he would’ve given out had you not been holding him up well. Wait, since when were you the one in charge? He was the one who had a grip on you earlier.

Without even so much of an effort, you spun him around, now the one trapped between the kitchen counter and your body. It must’ve been the Inazuman summer heat that suddenly set him ablaze — you flashed him a small smile that he could never recover from, so approving yet so domineering; all Itto could think about now is how he can draw out more praises from your sweet lips.

Lucky for him, you feeling relatively charitable that day. You brought up the apple slice against his lips, prying them open and watched with amusement as he opened his mouth willingly, obedient and pliant, like a dog. You leaned in, attaching your lips to the apple halfway through his bite and gazed at him, sultry and still so collected. Itto could only swallow dryly at the proximity and— oh, since when did you have such a vice grip on his bare waist?

Itto could feel himself squirm a little and look away, and you followed, not even letting him get a breathing room. You nudged the apple slice into his mouth still with that small smile that hid a lot of harmless malice, taking delight in the oni’s sudden subservience.

“What a good oni you are,” you repeated and Itto could do nothing but absorb every praise you’d give. “My good boy.”

He’s been such a good boy, right? Rarely any jail time for him. Surely you can reward him with something more palpable?

𐂂

Kaeya

Remorse was something Kaeya thought he would feel the moment he kisses his bachelor life goodbye. Admittedly, the situation with getting in a relationship with was a very rocky path he took on. It was a mess and even Kaeya could not smooth talk his way out of that kind of argument. It was an unhealthy push and pull, he wanted you so bad was much too terrified. He has other commitments and he has a mission to carry on his back.

But ever the benevolent person you are, you managed to put up with the highs and the lows of the infamous cavalry captain, letting him off to disappear for days only to come back in your arms, looking like a kicked puppy. Somehow you knew that even with his emotional availability, his constant flirting with others, you knew that even without the promise of his commitment, he would always, always come back to you.

And each time, you would receive him happily in your arms.

The moment that finally, Kaeya was somehow able to comfort or gaslight himself into thinking that a commitment to the real thing was miles better than him having to spend time with strangers, pretending that it was you underneath him. And boy was it a treat.

What Kaeya thought would be something he would entirely regret, turned into something far better (or worse) for him. You were the epitome of the alcohol he would spend mora on, the intoxicating heat that gets him all too feverish. You kept up with him like you did back when he would push and pull against you. His teasings quickly shut down by your quick mouth and sharp wit.

But he didn’t expect the way you were instantly able to subvert his expectations the night he decided to finally bed you. You took him with the dominance that he was sure rifthounds would cower from and he had to risk a day of being late in his position for the very first time in his otherwise clean career.

Within the few months, you’ve managed to embed yourself into his life like a poison, further dragging him down into something he can only see getting close to what seems to be an obsession. He was, by all means, addicted to your touch, the way you leave him breathless, and the way that absolutely no one knows the things you can do behind that innocent smile. Because you were a homemaker, the kind of person parents would recommend their sons and daughters to get married to.

It really was always the quiet ones.

However, you did not come without any risk. Kaeya was an important figure in Mondstadt, and more or less, he worried about your safety. Though it was not the usual safety issues that he has to deal with. Homemaker or not, he knew you can hold on your own with your vision. Though it was more on the fact that he had to keep the relationship a secret that you were in danger — as far as everyone was concerned, you were not taken.

And people sure did show their interest the moment you headed out to the tavern. He was supposed to have a quiet drink with you and enjoy your presence outside your lovely home for once.

“Oh, you absolute charmer!” One of the women by your side laughed loudly. She gave you a playful shove, and as someone who has been the one to receive and give such a tactic, Kaeya already knew her intentions with you. “It’s honestly a miracle of sorts that you’re still unwed!”

Kaeya had to intervene before any of the you-deprived people made a move. He entered the space and everyone parted out of respect. You only gave him a beaming smile that left him invigorated, “Ah! Captain Kaeya! What an honor!”

“Hoho~ the fabled Mondstadt’s homemaker heading out for drinks? How fascinating. Care to have a drink with me? I have much to ask of you.” It was a silent plea behind his words, and you weren’t always so mean to him hence your obedience, letting him lead you up into the far less populated second floor.

“Have you learned that there’s a way to see how well someone can kiss?” You were quick to bring up and Kaeya just had to know. He pulled you in by the waist, knowing that he’s safe from the prying eyes (and even if there were, he wouldn’t mind them seeing).

“Oh is that so? Pray tell what that might be, hm?”

“Apparently if you can tie a cherry step into a knot, it means that you’re an expert at it! And,” you paused, a hand digging into your pocket as you showed Kaeya what seems to be knotted stem, “Looks like I passed the test?”

Kaeya and his teasing nature couldn’t help but prod further, “Hoh? But shouldn’t I be the judge of that? Not some stem. Matter of fact, did you just do that to prove yourself… or to impress others?”

A mischievous mirth lit up in your eyes that usually gleamed of innocence and Kaeya was over the moon at hitting the jackpot. You wasted no second as you bent down, one knee already pressing up against his lower region and he had to stifle a quiet groan at the sensation. Truly, the grip you had in him was absolutely maddening.

With a grin, you tilted his head up, adoring the way his eye closed in anticipation. And to his surprise, he could only feel something rub up against his closed eye, as you gave it a generous lick, like a dog oh so happy to see his owner. But Kaeya had to wonder… just who was the owner in this relationship… surely even with the way you’re acting you would know…

You gave him a peck on the lips and Kaeya almost lost it when he could smell his favorite wine on you, “I may have to control myself for now, dearest. While it thrills me so, I believe you have a reputation to uphold.”

Kaeya could care less now, with eyes clouded with lust, he could only tug into your trousers with a lazy smirk, “Are you certain about that?”

The look in your hungry eyes said no.

𐂂

Tartaglia

Cruel — other than his loving family back in Snezhnaya, that was what people would initially regard him as if they were to know of his status as the eleventh harbinger of the Fatui. Should people look past his boyish charms and friendly smile, they would’ve known how utterly devious Childe could be. And that was something he took pride on, he loved the fear he instilled in his enemies and his time down in abyss only further exacerbated the carnal urge to come out on top.

He has his reasons though — considering that he was the youngest among the lineup of the Tsarita’s harbingers. He has to prove his spot, and if being merciless was the way to go through it all, then he would gladly do so with little to no complaints.

Alas, he was a competitive fellow too. Almost everything is a challenge to him; one he would take on with gusto and flawlessness; essentially what his trademark is meant to be. But even he was sure that he could not compare to the likes of you.

Especially in cruelty.

His very endeared partner, you, hailing from nowhere, you suddenly became a sought after figure under the Cryo Archon’s kingdom. Admiration could not even come close to Childe’s feelings whenever you would grant him a few seconds of your time to show up. But now that he has you as his beloved sweetheart, none could pry him away from you. And admittedly, he even became far more hesitant in heeding the Tsarita’s orders should he be parted from you on missions.

He says you’re his sweetheart, but even Childe knows better. It was you who turned him into a subservient sweetheart, pliant and soft under your mean gaze, almost begging to be around you for even just one second. And you were sure that he’d have gone mad in ecstasy if you starved him with only your blood to offer for his sustenance. Hence the ecstatic look on your beloved harbinger was nothing short of adorable when the Tsarita had let you accompany him to Liyue.

However, your cruelty knows no bounds; and Childe learned that the hard way.

Or perhaps, he was still learning as he watched you completely ignore him since your arrival in Liyue, opting to dote on his subordinates instead, which greatly infuriated him beyond reason. You promised! You promised that only he could have your attention within your stay, and that you would make up for the time he headed back home only to hear that you were in Fontaine, holding an audience with the Chief Justice of the nation. But you weren’t making good on it in the slightest bit.

If only he knew that your cruelty was a process to be had. That your cruelty in itself was a form of sickening kindness, a way for him to need you more, to realize that he can’t have it any better after you… not like there was ever a need to convince him anyway.

And as the night finally fell, a moody Childe faced you as soon as you returned home from your little outing with the Liyue Qixing (whom you’ve made a promise to have a deal with in the near future). There was a cute pout in his lovely face and you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh in amusement, watching his normally blank eyes emit such ferocious jealousy.

“Careful dear, any more of that and you’ll be having wrinkles.” Your laugh was quick to pull him out of his brooding, finding it hard to stay mad now that finally, you were talking to him.

Childe felt like a child deprived of any form of love as he made a mad dash towards you who barely left the doorway and engulfed you in a hug, tight and absolutely refused to let go. If he were only more aware, he would’ve seen the pleased devious smile on your face before prying him away from you, resorting into a disapproving frown from your partner.

“You owe me this much, y’know? You—” Not even before he could make his proper argument, Childe already found himself getting pulled back in, a grip around his waist with one arm while the other caressed his cheek.

“I owe you?” Your mirthless laugh sends shivers down his spine and as your gloved hands linger down from his cheek down to the skin of his neck, Childe could only whimper in a poorly concealed excitement. “Dear, I owe you absolutely nothing.” You spat and the harbinger took it with open arms.

He was quick to be reduced into a speechless man as your eyes switched from something loving to something far more dangerous and addicting. Childe could feel himself stiffen in anticipation as your fingers lingered around his neck, tracing his Adam’s apple with a thinly veiled threat.

“I owe you nothing, you lowly harbinger. In fact, I’d like to raise a complaint, yes?” His throat bobbed at your cruel look. “The one night we spent on the ship, it was in rather poor taste. Matter of fact, I despised it. You performed so poorly, I had to finish myself off with someone else.”

It was a lie you both knew, but the thought of you with someone else already had Childe gripping against the lapels of your suit, in complete desperation to prove himself once more. “N-No, wait, I can…”

Your sneer was thrilling as it was arousing for Childe, and the mere thought that this would be the determinant of his life with you that was hanging by a thread was enough to get him going. Childe wasted no time to press up against you, in need to do better than his less than stellar performance.

Your lips ghosted over his trembling ones with a smirk. You absolutely loved your little harbinger.

𐂂

Thoma

Guilt flooded through Thoma’s heart as set his course on breaking another poor hopeful maiden’s heart. By all means, Thoma may be unassuming, but it was something already disproven by the many confessions he would receive on the daily. He was Inazuma’s fixer, and was quite popular around neighborhood, not only as the trusted keeper of the renonwed Kamisato siblings, but also as the reliable man that anyone could go to.

And who was anyone to argue? He really did know how to aid people, so much so that the prettiest maidens ought to take him for themselves, finding his abilities endearing, and that while he was no Kamisato, he still is one of the most attractive men in the nation. Often times he does find himself to be the butt of teasing from Ayato and the pitiful smiles that Ayaka would give him.

While one would think it shouldn’t even be that big of a deal, it was more of the fact that there was an existing reason for all of this turmoil. And that just happened to be his dearly beloved fiancé, you. Alas, Thoma never had the guts to tell most people about the love that you and him shared, but rest assured he was not trying to hide you. It’s more of the prejudiced notion of him being a mere housekeeper suddenly about to get married to an important figure like you in Teyvat.

People were conservative in their views, and rarely do they find it amusing when someone of high status hopes to get married to someone who is beneath them.

Thoma hated it so, but he was doing this more for you. He has heard of the extremes Ayato has to go through to keep the Kamisato name alive. And while you haven’t experienced the same thing, Thoma wasn’t going to be the first reason for you to suffer the same fate as his boss — hence his resignation to absolute secrecy.

You, however, did not mind. Sure, you were placed on a pedestal just because of your influence stretching across all nations, but even a small uproar about your marriage to Thoma was nothing in comparison to your gigantic business, in fact, your underground organization can quash any hushed whispers from every corner of this world. But you respected Thoma’s effort and found them quite endearing, him going through all those lengths just for your sake. Nothing could get you going more than an honest and loyal man like him.

What you didn’t appreciate however, was the scene before. You’ve officially arrived back home in Inazuma, dressed in your finest robes as you were hoping to surprise your beloved fiancé — only to be greeted with a less than pleasant sight of a woman nearly convulsing in embarrassment as she spilled her heart out to who was meant to be yours.

Thoma had to learn the hard way. You ought to teach him a lesson. And that was certainly a promise you would make good on.

Thoma’s house was nothing short of comfortable and cozy, far more humble than the grand castle that awaits him as soon as he marries you. And while the luxury it brought was absolutely divine, Thoma could only argue that his home is where you are. It didn’t matter where, as long as you were in it, Thoma can live in peace.

And nothing could justify the absolute happiness in Thoma’s once he saw you by the stove, cooking something. You… you were here! With him again! His home has finally returned.

Oh if only knew just how much guilt would pool in his little heart once you get on with the punishment.

Tiny gasps escaped from Thoma’s lips, quiet murmurs of pleas for you to slow down, to let him breathe and ask why the sudden aggression. He had never expected you to be so rough. Your presence could be intimidating (even to him in your first meet), but you were far more gentle than this beastly rendition of yourself.

Despite his begging, you heeded so little of his words and pursued even harder, fingers intertwining on the chain of his dog tag, where his engagement ring was. No wonder that woman didn’t take a hint.

“P-Please, dear— let me—!”

“Was this some kind of joke?” Thoma should be scared, he knows, but the way your lips pulled into a mean snarl had him squirming in a far more pleasurable way. He shrank under your gaze as you tugged into the ring. “You are my fiancé — and I was just about ready to forgive you for even entertaining that scag when I realized your ring wasn’t on your finger.”

Thoma’s eyes widened at your words. Never have you expressed such distaste and jealousy towards him before, sure, you were territorial, but at the very least you were not an unreasonably jealous partner. It only served as a surprise when he realized that he was barely fighting this side of you, finding himself pressing further into you, to appease you.

The sigh of disappointment that left your system was the straw that broke the camel’s back as he quickly threw his arms around your neck, pulling you close as he murmured his apologies. He couldn’t bear to see you like this and to see you so disappointed in him… he might as well leave this plane of existence.

However, you quickly dismissed his apologies, “Let me make it up to you dear,” you muttered against his neck, already ready to nip at his creamy skin. “I’ll make sure no one ever makes the mistake of approaching you ever.”

Needless to say, the angry bright red marks on his neck never left under your surveillance and vigorous reapplication until Thoma drills the fact that he was yours into his head for good.

𐂂

Zhongli

Submission is a concept that Zhongli as Morax could never hope to entertain. He was the domineering figure in Liyue, being its god and everything. His position towered over his fellow adepti and ruled over every being that stepped in his nation with an iron fist. Zhongli would even go as far as to admitting that he was a brute at times, resorting into bouts of possessiveness over what was his. Only that, he can blame on his dragon characteristics.

However among all the people that hailed him up until his death, there was one that he just couldn’t particularly figure out. That thing being you — a puzzle piece that he couldn’t figure out. You were the physical embodiment of the rock that trips any unfortunate mortal in their path.

There was just something with the way you held yourself with your decadent nature that was sure to allure people from left to right. You carried yourself so lightly with an air of innocence yet every move you made was no doubt calculated, precise, and hypnotically seductive, luring him in like a sweet poison.

And as the years went by, he had worked tirelessly to close the gap that you yourself have made him aware of. He found it utterly laughable — the fact that he, the one who lords over everyone, making a conscious effort to get close to you. In fact, he was even sure it was you that compelled him to do so, forcing him into your space like a vortex that only has the intention of drawing him in and swallowing him whole.

Truly, Morax was worth his salt — considering that he was correct about his assumptions.

Zhongli sat with you in the comfort of his favored restaurant, opening his eyes after relishing in the tea that was served only to see your unabashed staring. He lightly bristled, surprised at your undivided attention. Even with the times you and him have spent together, nothing could best that gaze of yours — something that Zhongli felt proud in holding the distinction of having. No one has ever seen you look at someone like the way you looked at him, and it was something that the former Geo Archon took pride in.

“Something on your mind, darling?” He asked, hoping to pry open those chaotic thoughts of yours.

Still with that cloying smile of yours that he so loved to look at you, reached a hand to thumb at the corner of his lips, “Just you.” You laughed as you felt him stiffen under your touch. Zhongli truly was a treat for you to indulge and one you can never let go of.

He was your precious little dragon, unknowingly obsessive and possessive and so painfully subservient under your touch. You so loved to toy with him most of the time, but even then, you couldn’t erase the fact that he has you wrapped around him just as much he does to you.

Zhongli could feel his breath hitch as your gentle hands slowly pried his mouth open, and he, without question abided. You were still an enigma to him, still completely unaware of how much you’ve trapped him within your hold, with no hopes of escaping (not like he has wanted to). And as your fingertips brushed against his soft lips, he was much too distracted when a carnal desire glinted through your eyes.

The former god had to thank the bustling busybodies of Liyue harbor for covering up the absolute debauchery you had subjected yourself and him into — by the small gap between shops, dark enough from the shadow in between, you had pushed Zhongli into it with a look of desire on your face.

It must’ve been because he sought you out and that he was used to being the one who has to keep up with you, but there was something so delicious in the way he always craved for your touch. You weren’t even so scarce with it either, as every time he demanded, you obliged. Oh how foolish he was to think that he was the one with control — unable to realize the mere fact that with every touch that leaves him breathless is a poison the continues to corrupt him from the inside out.

Suddenly, every touch of yours was not enough — that he needed so much more, and all of it can be proven with the way Zhongli had desperately pulled you into him. He was filled to the brim with the need and want and you did not withhold any of it.

He was left gasping as you fondled him through his work clothes, lips attached to his neck that left one too many marks.

“Darling, please…” his pleas came out in a form of a breathy whimper and you had to be cruel.

“Oh? Look at you, so absolutely ruined, my lord.” Your jabs went straight the heat that pooled into his stomach, suddenly taken aback by your sudden coyness. It was taking him back to all those centuries that past when you and him were young and stupid.

Zhongli gripped onto your shoulders, uncaring whether or not he too had wrinkled your suit. A pleading look flashed through his eyes, much to your elation. But you continued to toy with him, somehow after being spoiled rotten, even the wisest consultant of Liyue could not resist the feeling of impatience that painfully ate away at him.

“How do you think your other adepti friends would say at the sight of their dear old Morax… so pitifully in need of his beloved’s touch?” Your words sent shivers down to his spine. You just took away his demands for your touch and now you’re depriving him of the praises you would sing to him so sweetly every time? How cruel!

A whimper escaped from his trembling lips, “It’s not… it’s not pitiful…” He tries to fight and justify but even then he knew it was a futile attempt.

Your hands that gripped his waist tightened and he fought the urge to grant you that sweet delectable sound of pleasure out of revenge, “I find that very hard to believe.” You weren’t even trying as you drew out what you wanted from him with one more forceful squeeze against his supple flesh.

His head quickly fell into your shoulder and you can slowly see the disappearance of the feared warrior god as Zhongli begged for your touch, “Please… don’t deprive me of this… you’re all I need and have…”

A huff of amusement left your system as you tipped his head up by the chin, you leaned in, giving him one tiny peck that elicited yet another soft whine and licked his lips, watching them glisten with your saliva.

“Right you are dear… I’m all you have and that’s all you’ll ever need.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

Me and the Devil (Walking side by side)

Or the Cannabalism arc gets resolved by Atsushi making a deal with the Demon.

Atsushi knows that he shouldn't be here. Kunikida would lose his mind if he knew. No matter how he could try to spin it, this was the most reckless and impulsive move Atsushi had ever made.

Which said a lot considering he met Dazai by fishing him out of the lake on the brink of starvation.

But Kunikida didn't know he was here. No one in the Agency did, maybe Ranpo would've figured it out if his mind wasn't on more pressing matters.

Atsushi wonders if Ranpo would've stopped him, had he known his plan. Maybe Ranpo already knew, and had simply let him go without another word.

Atsushi doubts it but one could never know with Ranpo Edgoawa. It wasn't as if it mattered, Ranpo was off with the others on their personal mission.

Atsushi was supposed to be with Kunikida, investigating a lead. He'd have to apologise to Kunikida later for not showing up.

That is, if there was a later. At least Atsushi wasn't wearing his Agency uniform, at least he wouldn't be ruining their image.

"I must say, I am quite suprised to see you in here." Says Fyodor, taking a sip of tea as Atsushi stands by his table.

He looks the picture of relaxed and somewhere deep down Atsushi wants to punch him.

Fukuzawa was dying. Without him the Agency will fall apart. Atsushi has never seen Ranpo so serious, so distraught.

No one has.

Kunikida is trying his best to keep it together. But like the rest of them, he was falling into despair.

Mori was dying.

Without him the Port Mafia will return to its more visceral and brutal ways. Atsushi knows little about those days, but knows it would destroy Yokohama.

If Mori or Fukuzawa is killed by the other organisation, it will result in all out war.

This is what Fyodor wants. And here he is, sat in a cosy cafe. Listening to music and drinking tea while ruining everything.

Atsushi feels sick just looking at the man. But he doesn't punch him, he doesn't yell or scream. Atsushi has come here for a reason.

To bargain.

"I'm not here to fight you. I came to talk." Says Atsushi, keeping his voice light like everything was fine. Fyodor hums, clearly intrigued by this new development in his plans.

He puts his tea down and gestures for Atsushi to take a seat.

"Than talk, would you like some tea?" Atsushi sits down, ordering for himself and let's the tea cup warm his hands.

"Shibusawa told me that you're the one who sent him to me. He said I had the ability to save him, to save countless." Atsushi looks up from staring into his tea. "He wasn't just talking about my ability, was he?"

The intrigue in Fyodor's eyes only grows but he remains as casual as ever. "He wasn't. But that's not what you want to ask me, is it?"

Atsushi takes a sip of his tea, slow and deliberate. He makes a show of looking around, as if making sure no one he knew was here.

"What would you do if you had the book?"

Fyodor's easy going smile turns viscious. There's a glint in his eye that shines dangerously. It reminds Atsushi, if he ever forgot just who he was speaking too.

Atsushi knows Fyodor could have him killed at any moment. The hospital said had the sniper aimed any higher, Dazai would've been killed instantly.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky is a dangerous man. And yet Atsushi is not afraid.

Not of him.

Atsushi's afraid of losing his friends... his family. The Agency is their home, and Atsushi won't let them lose it.

"And why, do you wish to know that?"

Atsushi shrugs, leaning back in his chair and adopting a carefree air. Something he's seen Ranpo and Dazai do countless times.

Never say they didn't teach him anything.

"Im the guide, aren't I? If I'm going go be coerced into finding it, I want to at least gain something from it. Don't you think?"

He takes a sip of tea as hums, thoughtful. "Fitzgerald wants to bring his dead daughter back to life for his wife. Which is noble and all, but it doesn't exactly do much for me. I have no one I want to bring back. So I'm asking Dostoyevsky, what it is you want with it?"

There's a silence before Fyodor laughs.

Atsushi says nothing, he gives nothing away even if inside he's a little panicked.

"My my, you really are something aren't you? Shibusawa didn't tell me just how ferocious you truly are." Fyodor shakes his head, amused. He rests his elbows on the table, his chin ontop of his palms and leans forward.

"I want to rid the world of all special abilities."

He says it so plain, so casual as if it meant nothing but Atsushi knows it means everything.

This is what Fyodor wants more than anything.

Atsushi mirrors his position, resting his chin atop his palms and leans in. "Now that, that I can work with."

Fyodor tilts his head to the side and smirks.

"Oh?"

Atsushi chuckles. "I grew up in a cage. I spent every waking moment of my life reminded that I was a beast of calamity. That all I did was bring misfortune onto others. My ability has taken everything from me. It has ripped out my humanity and turned me into a monster. It's not a gift, it's a curse. Why would I ever choose to keep it?"

Fyodor studies him before nodding approvingly. He sits back and Atsushi does the same. "It's rare I meet someone who shares my ideals in such a manner. And I wouldn't let such an opportunity go to waste."

He takes out his phone.

"But nothing is free in this world. What do you want in return?" They both know already but Atsushi doesn't comment on it.

He sits up straighter and looks Fyodor in the eye, unwavering. "I want Fukuzawa Yukichi of the Armed Detective Agency and Mori Ougai of the Port Mafia to be cured of the Cannabalism ability."

Fyodor chuckles "is that all?" He teases before becoming serious. "Very well, I agree to your terms. I trust no one knows you're here."

Atsushi nods, he even turns out his pockets to show that their empty. His phone, Agency badge and uniform are stashed in a bin somewhere.

Much like when he left the Orphanage, Atsushi came with only the clothes on his back. He left no note, he couldn't give them any clues.

"Very well. I accept your terms, Atsushi Nakajima." Says Fyodor, extending a hand to him.

This was it.

The moment Atsushi stepped foot into this cafe, he knew he might as well be signing his own death certificate.

But it doesn't matter to him.

There was no way Fyodor was ever going to get the book. He could torture him, starve him, drown him, whatever he wanted to break Atsushi into complying.

Atsushi would not budge. It was nothing he hadn't had dealt to him before. He hadn't been lying about his ability being a curse.

He was dooming himself to a life of isolation and agony. Walking back into his cage and handing over the keys to his tormentor.

Never to know freedom or love again. It was Atsushi's worst fear. What he dreaded more than anything. But this was for the Agency, and for them Atsushi would give up everything.

Atsushi was nothing compared to them. He bought misfortune onto others and pretended he was human when he was anything but.

He was a monster. He would only bring them pain and suffering. But now he could atone for everything he'd done.

None of this would be happened if Atsushi hadn't gone to Yokohama. If he hadn't joined the Agency, none of this would be happening.

He'd deluded himself into thinking he deserved a place to belong. And now they were suffering from it.

This, this was Atsushi's karma. This was the price of his mistakes. For ever thinking he could ever belong in the light when he was born into darkness.

He was abandoned by the world. He was abdoned by his parents and no one had ever wanted him. The Orphanage had been right about him, the Headmaster had been right about him.

But now he could fix it all. The Agency and the Port Mafia would be saved. There would be no more suffering caused by him. The book would never be found and no one would be hurt trying to pursue it again.

Everyone would be okay. So what if it cost Atsushi everything?

"Than we have a deal." Says Atsushi, shaking Fyodor's hand.

(Sequel, You don't know what I'd do (for you) Part 1

[mjlovescm]

can we get a clingy rodrick fem reader fic? maybe the reader is trying to get homework done or something? idk you’re a better writer than i💀

Stage five clinger, Rodrick Heffley

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this sorry it took so long. I feel like Rodrick would definitely be clingy, and I'm sure you are an amazing writer. <3

It may be hard to believe, and maybe he only acted this way when he was with you, but Rodrick Heffley was a top tier, stage five clinger. And to be completely honest, it should have been a bit obvious. This was the same boy who spent a very, very long time trying to get his crush to acknowledge him for more than just five seconds. So of course being his girlfriend, this only intensified. By a lot and in many ways. 

But the top three were: 1. Wash day  Before the full extent of Rodrick's clinginess, wash day was a lonely, tiring and highly frustration day. But with your own personal helper, things were definitely a lot easier. Having him run to the store real quick if you forgot something, playing video for you on his phone while your hands were greasy, and even helping you make even parts. 

“You know I can help you with more than just parting.” Rodrick yells over the shower. 

“You should be lucky I'm letting you in here to begin with.” 

You yell back, referring to the fact that he was sitting in the bathroom while you were in the literal shower. 

“Whatever.” He mumbles under his breath.

2. Homework  In the same way that his clinginess could be helpful, it was often not. Although you agreed with him on his point of homework being useless and annoying, you still had to get it done. And the best way to do that while being in the same vicinity as Rodrick was to ignore him. But with his sneaky nature, Rodrick would also find a way to have you in his arm doing something actually fun rather than stupid homework.

“Could you just be serious for like five minutes.”

You told Rodrick and was met with an utterly appalled face. One which you ignore and go back to trying to do your homework.

“I am being serious, I read it somewhere.”

“By “read it somewhere.” do you mean saw it on YouTube.”

“No.” He's quick to respond. “I saw it on Instagram.” Rodrick smiles because technically you were wrong. “Look it up, it's the most effective way to get things done. Study for thirty minutes, then relax for thirty.”

Still ignoring him, all you did was roll your eyes and try to focus on the work in front of you. Plus, the method was to study for twenty-five and have a five-minute break. A great method, sure, but clearly not what Rodrick was suggesting.

…

Leaving the bathroom, you walked back into Rodrick's room to find your homework textbook and pencils gone. And across the room was an overly casual Rodrick whose TV just happened to be playing your favorite movie. Without a word, you walked over to him, faces contradictory to each other. In fact, the smile that played on Rodrick's lips was burning a frown onto yours. Deciding not to play his game and, more importantly, not give in, you simply turned around to look for your things that had magically gone missing.

Before you realized what was happening, you were already sitting. The same hands he used to get you there now wrapped around your hips, keeping you in place. 

“You don't think this is a bit much?” You asked him genuinely. 

“I think.” He starts, and you can already tell where he's going, “That you need a break.” 

Rodrick peaks his head over your shoulder for a moment, that cocky smile still on his lips. Before it disappears into the crook of your neck. 

“Come on.” He whispers against your skin. “Well, only watch like five minutes.” 

Reluctant and knowing that it was a lie, you still agreed. Quickly getting comfortable and settling into your favorite seat, Rodrick's lap. 

3. Accidental sleepovers This one you could admit was partially your fault. I mean, if you really didn't want to stay you could just leave, but sometimes Rodrick was just too hard to resist. 

“We have school tomorrow.” You groan, sleepiness already creeping into your voice. 

“Yea, that's why you should stay.” He told his voice sleepier than yours. “Plus, I already drive you every morning.”

He was right, the van had been your go-to method of transport for a while now. 

“Yea but-” You tried to think of an excuse but nothing came to your half asleep mind. “I think I'd like to sleep in my own bed.” 

You told Rodrick, which triggered him to move him body more onto your chest, his way of trapping you. He shushes you before bringing his lips to your skin. Pressing gentle, slow kisses to your neck and jaw. 

“Tomorrow we can sleep wherever you want.” He whispered. 

“Fine.” You say, as snuggling into him. “But just because you're warm.” 

Masterlist

[purpleqilinwrites]

when summer comes.

a/n: "i am a passenger princess ushijima enjoyer," i say (hewwo, i'm kaija, adult, never learned how to drive).

fandom: haikyuu!!

character: ushijima wakatoshi

genre: fluff

info: established relationship (ushijima is your boyfriend); post-time skip

warnings: -

synopsis: ushijima promises to take you to paris in the summer.

word count: 0.8k

fluff-vember prompt: holiday

fluff-vember 2023 masterlist is here.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The car would seem too quiet once you dropped Tendou off at a train station a few stops down from his hotel.

You had insisted on driving him the whole way, but he simply wiggled his eyebrows and threw finger guns at you and Ushijima after accepting the ride and getting in your rental car. Something about "not wanting to third wheel", which you had also insisted he wouldn't be. You enjoyed having him around, and it was apparent your boyfriend did too.

Tendou flew in from Paris without his partner, since they couldn't take the time off from work for it. Consequently, he also attended the Shiratorizawa Academy reunion party alone. It gave you the opportunity to get to know your boyfriend's best friend better, which you appreciated, but you would've felt less awkward with Ushijima if Tendou's partner had been beside him.

Tendou exited the car in such a rush that you were suddenly concerned that you'd been driving too slowly. He flashed his phone screen to you, as if he could read your thoughts, and you saw that his partner was calling. You stepped out of the car to see him off, since Ushijima was already waiting on the sidewalk.

Standing beside your boyfriend, you watched Tendou cross the street and practically fly into the train station.

Maybe he wanted to get a head start on showing them a bit about the city he grew up in. At the party, you had heard him telling Ushijima that he was going to film himself eating around Sendai for them while he was here, which you thought was so sweet. The next time Ushijima flew somewhere without you – which would be soon, when game season began – you'd make sure to ask him to take some videos to go along with the pictures of his day that he sent you.

You've been standing outside in the cold for a while, feeling a chill come over you as a signal of the time. As if sensing your discomfort, Ushijima removed his coat to drape it over your shoulders. You pulled it tighter around you after you gave him your thanks.

"Should we get going?" he asked, even if he made no move to leave his spot beside you, resting on a guard rail outside the train station where the two of you had seen Tendou off.

"I thought it would've been nice to see Tendou-kun's partner in person," you said, instead, closing the uppermost button on Ushijima's coat under your chin so that it would stay put around your shoulders, even with the wind. "We could've had a café double date."

He hummed as a means of agreement, leaning closer to you to share his warmth. "Satori would have liked that," he said. "He has excellent taste in pastries. You would enjoy coffee tasting with his partner, too."

The wind tumbled past the train station before you could respond, reminding you to get back in the car and away from the clutch of winter. Without brushing your hair out of your eyes, you immediately turned to nuzzle your face into Ushijima's chest to warm your nose and cheeks.

"Okay, we can go now." Your voice was muffled by his shirt, which was far too thin for the weather. Once again, you marvelled at Ushijima's superhuman heat-generating and cold-resisting ability, much more in awe than you were jealous. It would've definitely freed up a lot of room in your luggage if you didn't get cold as easily as you did.

Pulling away from him and instantly mourning the loss of his warmth, you stretched out your hand for him to hold for the short walk back to the car. Ushijima took your hand and pulled your arm around his waist so that you could continue to use him to stay warm. "I don't want you to get cold," he said, smoothing your wind-tousled hair down and tucking the longer strands behind your ears.

"You spoil me." You gave him an appreciative squeeze as you started down the length of the train station, smiling. He put his own arm around you and returned the gesture, easily matching your steps.

"We can visit Satori and his partner in Paris in the summer," Ushijima said, as he held the door open for you. You paused in your attempt to get in the car, before you righted your posture and stood up straight beside the driver's seat. He repeated himself, giving you time to absorb what he was saying. The smile on your face only grew when his offer set in.

You put your hand on his arm, relishing the way he was solid under your palm. That you weren't dreaming. "That sounds amazing, Toshi," you said. "It won't clash with anything on your schedule?"

Ushijima shook his head, giving you a small smile of his own. "I have time in the late summer."

[demondamage]

@medwhumpmay Day 5 - Stay with me

A bit of a strange take on the prompt but i did this one last year so i wanted to try something different with it!

--------

Where the hell do you go for help when everyone you’ve ever known is either dead or wants you dead? Hell was no safe place for Aziphem, and angels roamed the surface world. It was hard to find anywhere safe, much less safe and with medical care for his specific needs.

He didn’t want to see Ko ever again when he escaped into the woods with Warren. But over his two years of freedom- Aziphem knew he was getting worse. The Harbinger had been aggressive ever since Nekcra had him and the entity bound to him was practically eating him alive. Weight shed from his frame and his already low cold tolerance was worsened.

Above all of it- he had lashed out at Warren.

He hadn’t meant to, he was scared, stressed, hungry, afraid. His hands moved without his control, the Harbinger testing it’s reach inside of him when he wasn’t paying attention. It wanted him.

But he couldn't blame the Harbinger for what he did to Warren. That Azzi had done himself, lashing out when his boyfriend simply wanted to help. 

No, Aziphem knew he was dangerous. As such- he needed someone who knew how to deal with him.

Ko had been so happy to see him, welcoming him into the house he and Alejo shared and showering Aziphem with food and coffee. Which- against his dignity, Aziphem accepted. He had been so hungry these days. 

“You don’t look well.” Ko finally commented, setting his coffee down and taking a seat as Aziphem devoured his leftover pork roast. “Is that why you finally came to see me?”

Not quite sure what to say, Aziphem just nodded with his mouth full. Ko nodded, having already retrieved his doctor’s bag and pulling from it a small finger sensor to take Aziphem’s vitals. He didn’t bother asking, placing it on and moving to clean an area on the demon’s arm in order to take a sample of blood. Aziphem didn’t fight it.

“I’m very proud of you for doing that.” Ko nodded, sliding the needle in and beginning the draw as they talked. “I know this must be scary but I want you to know-”

“Shut up.” Aziphem interrupted, swallowing his food before continuing. “I’m not here for the fake care again, I just need help getting healthy again and I am gone.”

“Very well,” The fallen angel looked frustrated at the comment, but changed his demeanour. “I wish I could just take a look at you and tell you what's wrong and how to fix it, but these sorts of things require observation and adjustment.”

“Warren can observe me. Just- give me somewhere to start ok and we can figure it out.”

“Aziphem, you look- like you need help. Please. I have an extra room. Stay here a few days, or longer if you decide you like it. I’ll take care of you and -”

“No.” The word was firm, yet Aziphem’s voice shook. As Ko pulled away his vial of blood the demon yanked his arm back, proceeding to remove the needle himself.  “Last time i got the privilege of staying in your spare room- you- we-”

“That will not be needed anymore.” Ko reached out, Aziphem noticing how his claws had been filed down to dulled points. “I’ll even let you lock the door. I’m just here to monitor you, as a doctor, not a master this time.”

“Warren’s a doctor. Just- he doesn’t know whats wrong and how to fix it so I need a place to start. That's all.”

“With all due respect,” Ko sighed, pausing to choose his words. “Mr. Vale may be a doctor, but he does not know you how I know you. He does not know demon anatomy how I do. I treated you for 5 years Aziphem, I know how to care for you.”

The implication hung in the air for a moment as Ko took the demon’s arm again, placing a small bandage over the bead of blood from the needle prick. 

“I know it’s scary but please,stay with me. Just for a little. Only until you’re better.”

Pause

“How do I know you’ll let me go again?” Aziphem almost whispered, unable to look his old master in his white eyes.

“I saved you, twice, did I not? I want what’s best for you.”

“You saved me so you could keep me for yourself.”

“Perhaps.” Ko sighed, gently rubbing Aziphem’s arm. “But this time you came back to me, you need me. And I won’t stop you from leaving because I know you’ll be back. I’ll get the guest room settled, make yourself at home.”

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[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 24 “Windy Mountain”[Episode List]

Another summer, another camping trip for our heroes… and an even smaller tent than last time. On the mountain, the sounds of nature finally meet their match as Dave’s farts reach new heights in terms of loudness and power.

POV: Tim

Windy Mountain “Rise and shine, bro!”

I was woken up by a sudden thunder, a thunder which was accompanied by a peculiar scent. Considering how I could see a clear blue sky outside (somebody opened the window in my room), as my eyes adjusted to the light I recognised Dave’s ass in a pair of white basketball shorts hovering over me, effortlessly erupting a powerful morning blast directly on my face.

I probably woke up halfway through the rip, which was already around 10 seconds long. A short morning fart, for my friend’s high standards. The stench hit me and triggered my flight or fight response, effectively waking me up more efficiently than any alarm clock could. I pushed my friend’s ass away (as he kept farting), trying to remember what year it was.

“Alright, alright. I’m awake!”

Dave turned around and greeted me with a smile. 

“Come on, we’re right on schedule.” he stated.

“Should I thank you or your ass?”

Dave simply looked up, making a funny facial expression, and ripped a quick loud one.

“Yes.” he simply replied, and left the room.

Those were natural, not even on command, but honestly who could tell the difference? Dave always had a fart ready, like you could ask him out of the blue to rip one and he’d probably be more than happy to go beyond your wildest expectations. One of his many talents: the incredible farts are like the cherry on top of this wonderful friend I’m lucky to have, a cherry that pleases my embarrassing and disgusting kink, a kink that, for some reason, my bud is completely okay with, getting some good immature laughs every time he teases me.

Like last year, the four of us (the other two being Greg and Adam) decided to get in touch with nature and go camping for a couple of days, like the hypocrite city slickers that we are. However, we’re pretty good at planning stuff like this, making sure it won’t interfere with our respective jobs and whatnot. 

As Dave told me earlier, we were indeed right on schedule: it wasn’t even 6:00 AM and he was ready, a role-reversal compared to the last time we went camping, as I’m usually the one who hates being late. A quick shower, some casual clothes and I too was ready, just a shirt and pair of black shorts, whereas Dave was sporing a grey t-shirt and his signature, “summer style” camo cargo shorts which, given the context, immediately triggered my kinky ass as I just remembered how my friend mercilessly blasted me in our tent last year while wearing those.

I hated… that I fuckin’ loved it.

While farting wasn’t by far our main topic of discussion (believe it or not), I like to think that Dave too remembers… because he’s just a nice mixture of “the best bro you could ever ask for” and “your worst bully”. Or, much more realistically, he just doesn’t remember because while he does find the act of teasing me utterly hilarious, it’s not like our lives revolve around his farts.

Unlike last year we were actually much more independent as our other two buds travelled to our destination on their own, a relatively colder place where we could avoid this summer’s high temperatures, somewhere on a mountain not far from here. We’re hiking to some interesting sights, the most important being a big, lesser known waterfall located at higher altitudes and deeper into the forest. 

We packed our stuff and as the Sun was setting we got into the car, Dave being the designated driver. My (much more important) role was choosing the music for the trip and sometimes checking the map. A true duo of rally drivers.

During the trip, me and my bro chatted about some random stuff and about one hour flew by. No traffic, no road works or anything, just a long but peaceful trip.

“Oh by the way.” Dave suddenly said, changing the subject. “When Dana and I went camping last year…” 

He seemed embarrassed but couldn’t help but laugh. Knowing him, that was the kind of laughter he’d do whenever he did something stupid.

“Yes?” I asked, being annoyingly inquisitive on purpose.

“We broke your tent.” he simply said.

“Oh.” I replied, not caring that much.

Yes, after our trip last year, I let Dave and Dana bring my tent on their own trip. I totally forgot about it and it was a very cheap product anyway. Plus, I saw Dave putting a folded up tent into the trunk earlier this morning, so it’s not like we were gonna sleep with the bugs tonight.

“It was an accident, I’m sorry.” he said.

“You’re the worst person I ever met.” I replied, the sarcasm being almost tangible.

“I totally forgot about it.” 

“Me too actually.” I admitted. “How did you break it? I deserve to know.” I asked, acting like I wanted to know how my grandpa died.

“Crazy sex obviously.” my friend said, with a smirk. 

I stared back at him until he told me truth.

“Ok… I accidentally hit it while going in reverse.”

“How did it even happen?!” I yelled, amused. “Why was the car there in the first place?!”

“Girls, you know… she didn’t want to walk back to the car.”

I stared back at him again.

“We had beers in the trunk.” 

“Unbelievable. Truly made for each other.”

We both had a good laugh at their laziness, and I made sure Dave knew it was fine: he bought a new tent after all, so we’re good.

“The new tent is a bit smaller though… not that you mind, right?” he said, and winked at me.

“Oh yeah, show me the infamous crazy sex you’ve been talking about.” I played along.

“Well that, obviously.” he joked. “But I was thinking more of… you know…”

He leaned a bit while driving and, as much as he could, pointed his camo-clad ass towards me; the fart was, well, one of his average ones, long, loud and proud, the sound partially muffled by the seat and car’s own noises, but I could still hear it clearly. A firm, strong, 7 seconds display of cocky manliness from my bro, something I pretend to be used to but for a number of reasons keeps surprising me somehow.

The smell hit me but the cars’ windows being open made it bearable.

Before I could stutter something, he sat back normally and resumed talking.

“Just like last year, you know.” he laughed.

He actually remembers it. The fact that he does gives me a mix of feelings. I remained silent, trying to focus on the road ahead, which he noticed.

“Aw come on, don’t act like you hate it, you hypocrite.” he playfully said, patting my shoulder. “You know you can relax when I’m around, right?” he then asked, a bit more seriously, keeping his right hand on my shoulder.

It took me a bit to answer that simple question, Dave being so open-minded he almost leaves me speechless.

“Yeah I know man. Thanks.” 

“Good.” he said, again patting my shoulder.

This man’s patience is infinite. 

And just like that, we resumed talking about the usual stuff, as if my kink never existed. I feel like Dave accepted my fetish more than I ever did with myself.

——

A few hours later we reached our destination, at around 10:00 AM, the mountains towering over us being so high we could see the peaks covered in glaciers. However, the town where we left the car was not at high altitudes, so while the weather wasn’t as hot as back home, you could still tell it was summer, a particularly hot one nonetheless, as some of the locals told us. From the small town we then begun our hiking towards a place called “Windy Mountain”, making sure our phones still got signal so we could keep our other two buds posted on our location.

As we got higher and higher, the temperatures got a bit lower, but still pleasing, despite our heavy backpacks.

“Call me hypocrite.” I said.

“I already did a few hours ago I believe.” Dave quickly replied.

“I’m just saying… I don’t blame you for parking the car next to the tent, when you were with Dana.”

“Ahah what, feeling tired already?” he mockingly said, tired.

“I could do this all day bro.” I boasted, lying.

“Well no worries, Greg and Adam set the camp right next to that river.”

Dave pointed to a location not really far from us, a bit more downhill than where we were, and I could indeed spot two people in the distance, which I assumed were our buds waiting for us. The view as a whole was also really nice, with the mountain overlooking the entire scene.

“You think they can hear us?” I asked.

“Only way to find out.”

My friend shouted our buds’ names, his voice echoing in the entire valley, but the two people didn’t seem to have any reaction. It was my turn to shout, but once again, nothing.

“Yeah it’s them.” Dave said. “I’d recognize Greg’ piss-yellow shirt anywhere.” he pointed out, as I too noticed that small yellow spot by the river.

“It’s weird they couldn’t hear us.” 

“Let’s see if they can hear this then.”

Dave simply stood where it was, which was surprising considering the sheer amount of gas he started ejecting from his ass. The fart almost fake-sounding, but it was loud and powerful, my friend effortlessly showing off his skills, easily surpassing any natural sound around us. The fart truly echoed everywhere, and as the 9 seconds blast finished, I could still hear it propagating all over the valley. An impressive, almost terrifying display of what my friend is capable of.

Funnily enough, the guy in the piss shirt did seem to turn around; he then waved at us.

“Nice.” I said. “You probably scared the shit out of every animal in the valley, but nice.”

“It’s called ‘asserting dominance’, Timothy.” Dave said, acting all serious. “The valley now knows who’s in charge.”

“Wow I feel so safe now.” I said, letting my sarcasm do the talking… while trying to ignore my boner.

——

The moment we arrived, Greg and Adam fetched us beers and something to eat, just some snacks, as it was too early to set up a barbecue anyway. We started setting up our camp like we did last time: our two tents being on the opposite sides, facing each other, with a fire pit in the middle, not too close, not too far away. 

“Isn’t that tent a bit too small for you two?” Greg noted, while rummaging through the snacks.

“We don’t need a bigger tent to compensate you know.” I replied, very maturely.

“Also, me and Tim like to snuggle in those cold summer nights.” Dave added, hugging me from behind. “Right, honey?”

I shook him off. “Oh yeah…” I played along. “Whisper me something soft and sweet, my stallion!”

What my ear received however was anything but a gentle whisper. Dave was really enjoying the beer and he decided to let me (and everyone) know by belching directly into my skull, the scent of yeast and water hitting my nostrils. My bro wants to make sure he can destroy me from both ends, if you know what I mean.

“Serves you right.” Greg snickered.

Like a Terminator, Dave changed his target and let me go, power-walking towards our snickering friend. Before Greg could beg for mercy, he grabbed his head and burped straight onto his face, earning mature laughters from me and Adam.

“The good news is that you’re probably scaring bears off.” Adam commented. 

“He’s ‘asserting dominance’” I explained, making finger quotes.

“He’s the true alpha.” Adam added, sarcastically.

“He’s making me puke.” Greg managed to say, just as Dave’s belch ended.

Once this very mature display of manliness was over, my bro joined us in setting up the camp, with his classic smirk drawn on his face, pretty proud of making Greg almost lose it.

——

After setting up the camp we ate something, nothing too complicated, just some sandwiches and fresh water, because in the afternoon we planned to go hiking; the destination was this beautiful waterfall located deeper into the woods and at a higher altitude, a true sight to behold. Due to this however, the climate there was colder, and the temperatures started to lower even in the valley (where our camp was) due to the Sun hiding behind one of the tall mountains looming over us.

In our tent I was setting some things up before the hike, like the GPS on my phone, and pulling some things out of my backpack to avoid bringing something needlessly heavy with me. My back was facing the tent’s entrance but I could feel someone coming inside.

“Everything’s alright?” Dave asked. 

For all the immature, sometimes gross pranks he plays on us (…you know what I mean), Dave was actually the smartest around here, and the one we trusted the most when it came to organizing trips like these. Just because he acts silly, it doesn’t man he’s stupid.

“Yeah man. All set.” I said. “If we die, they’re gonna find our corpses in no time.” I joked.

“That’s the spirit!” my friend cheered.

As the Dave got into the tent, I realized how smaller than the last one was indeed. The fact that my bro was taller and generally “bigger” than me, body-wise, didn’t help. There was room to breathe, lay down and all that stuff, but a bigger tent would have definitely been better. 

My bro got on all fours to look for some of his own stuff and, due to the small size of the tent, accidentally brushed his camo-clad ass all over me more than once. This stuff can happen to everyone, so I just ignored it, though it was hard not to think of what that same ass is capable of, considering the person who belongs to.

“Looking for something?” I asked, turning to him, though my head was basically talking to his ass.

“Yeah, my rain jacket.” he said, while rummaging through his own backpack.

“Oh right, the waterfall.” I remembered. I too had a rain jacket after all.

“Nevermind, found it.” he told me, giving me an OK I sign.

I kept checking my stuff, his camo-clad ass still literally next to me. I noticed Dave’s hand now patting his own butt, like we all do when we can’t find our phones in our back-pockets.

“What are you looking for now?” I asked, without even turning to his ass, even though my boner really wanted me to take a closer look.

Dave didn’t answer, though I felt his hand pat my shoulder, then my hair.

“Your head, actually.” he said, trying not to laugh.

He quickly pulled me and planted my entire face into his ass, holding it still. As my nose touched the warm fabric of his cargo pants, I felt his buttcheeks relax and, surprise to no one, a fart came out, a loud blast that made my teeth shake for how strong and loud it was. The gas went down my nostrils and eyes, making me choke, but Dave’s firm grip on my head was merciless. As my bro kept his position on all four, he raised one of his legs a bit, easing the blast out, actually making him get even louder. He finally let me head go as he did this, but my kinky-self didn’t move at all, enjoying the blast until it was over.

And indeed it was over, at around 11 seconds, a fart fueled by beer and snacks. I heard my friend laugh as he gently pushed me away using his own ass. The turned around, with his usual smirk.

“It’s just too easy with you.” he said. 

I didn’t say anything, turning my attention to my backpack again. Despite Dave’s best (worst?) efforts, I was always embarrassed by this. My bro probably noticed this and stopped the teasing, getting ready himself for the hike.

As I mentioned, the temperatures were getting lower, so Dave changed clothes accordingly: he was now wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and the aforementioned rain jacket.

“Piss yellow? How the tables have turned.” I mocked him, commenting the color of the jacket.

“It’s ochre, you swine.” he said.

——

We were hiking in single file, with me being the last, in the woods, the temperatures getting lower; the mood was great however, and we occasionally improvised songs from a certain epic fantasy as we felt like we were marching towards a dark volcano or a dragon-infested mountain. The landscapes certainly helped the illusion of an epic tale: it was just a damn beautiful place; despite the Sun being still obscured by the mountains, we could still it was a picture perfect day, weather-wise: we couldn’t have chosen a better day to go camping and hiking.

My gay and kinky ass kept distracting me from truly appreciating the beauty of nature, as Dave was the one walking in front of me. Regardless of my fetish, Dave was a great-looking guy, so I couldn’t help but to stare at him for a few seconds whenever I could. My eyes would obviously land on his jeans-clad ass more than once, which were a bit loose but also wrapped nicely around his powerful butt as he walked. Disgustingly enough, I wished he could fart on me while wearing those, but I won’t deny I’d love to ask, but I will never do it, I’d feel like I’m crossing some boundaries I’m not supposed to cross, because at the end of the day Dave is straight.

I can at least enjoy the view… and considering that the human body is, well, not artificial, you can technically say I’m still enjoying the scenery nature had to offer.

——

The hype paid off: the waterfall, the main reason we came up here in the first place, was absolutely incredible. We were speechless, so stunned we didn’t even think to take a picture of it the moment we got there. We kept walking, following a route that would get us right in front of it, millions of small droplets of water already dampening our faces and clothes. This never-ending wall of water going down the mountain was a beast, and a loud one truth to be told: we had to yell because we couldn’t hear anything unless we stood really close to each other.

“I’m speechless.” I yelled everyone.

“What?!” everyone replied.

“I said that I’m speechless!” 

“Then why are you talking?!” Greg screamed back.

We didn’t have anything else to say as we stood in front of that wonderful display of nature, letting the water do all the talk. Finally we decided to become a boomer’s worst nightmare and pulled our phones out, taking pictures, posting stories and selfies. I saw Dave making a short video-call with Dana, even though the two could barely hear each other (but knowing them, that was the entire joke) while the other three of us settled for posting our pics on social medias.

It was still daytime (around 5:00 PM) but after about 20 minutes admiring the scenery, we decided it was time to hike back to the camp. 

Also, we were starving.

“You two want to make out or what?” Adam yelled, noticing me and Dave staying behind.

I explained (screaming like a demon) that Dave needed to send a couple more pics to Dana, but the phone’s signal was unstable, so I was waiting for him to not leave him alone there.

Adam gestured a “whatever” and he and Greg disappeared in the woods around the waterfall. 

After a couple more minutes, which I spent sitting down admiring that cathedral of nature, Dave put his phone in the backpack and sat next to me, at first in silence.

“I gotta take Dana to this place.” he thought out loud.

We kept sitting there, the loudness of the water rushing down the only thing we could hear despite ourselves. I decided to ruin the moment by reaching for something in my backpack.

“Beer?” I said, handing a can of beer to my bro.

“Always.” he replied.

We had a quick toast and enjoyed the view a bit more.

“Man that’s loud.” I commented, the waterfall’s noise starting to piercing my ear-drums.

Dave slowly turned to me, sporting an exaggerated smirk.

“Challenge accepted.” 

I guess it was his turn to ruin the moment.

He quickly stood up, now towering next to me, and I could once again admire that beautiful denim ass. He wasn’t gonna fart in my face, not there at least, but for some reason he just wanted to do it. It wasn’t because of me, I’m pretty sure: the guy just enjoys showing off.

I didn’t stand up, and just stared at Dave… waiting, until he turned his head down to me with a cheesy smirk.

“You can’t hear it?” he yelled.

I instinctively stared at his ass and focuses. I could barely hear it: it was one of his well-known farts, loud and proud, but he still couldn’t beat the waterfall.

Trying to hide my massive boner, I simply gestured my ear, as to say that I couldn’t hear it. My friend just laughed and I could see his eyes narrowing, as if he was forcing more gas out.

And truth to be told, I could hear the fart getting louder, still not as loud as the waterfall obviously, but damn that must have been incredible to hear in all of its glory.

Dave kept standing still, relaxing his ass muscles and pushing what was probably one of his longest and loudest farts out. I could notice the droplets coming from the waterfall being blown farther away once they got close to his denim ass, a sign of powerful that blast was.

Now I could hear it properly, which my friend noticed, as he once again stared down at me sporting a wide, silly smile, immaturely proud of his fart. Really putting the “ass” in the whole “asserting dominance”-thing he had going one since we got here.

I thought I was ruining the moment with that beer, but Dave is better at everything I guess.

The hardest thing (besides my penis) was fighting the urge to simply plant my face into that ass, so I could properly enjoy that massive display of farting-talent; I couldn’t complain however, since Dave is basically a terribly wonderful enabler for my fart kink.

Now I couldn’t hear the waterfall anymore, only the fart; that fact that I was right next to the source of the blast certainly helped, but that was impressive either way. Dave was visibly exhausted: that was too much even for him (and, probably, me), so he sat down next to me again, sighing in relief, and the fart ended. How long did that last anyway? Not only it was loud, it was extremely lengthy. If I had to guess, that was probably around 60 seconds! 

I tried to focus again on the waterfall, while Dave proposed another toast.

“To us.” he said, sounding as corny as you think.

“Really?” I replied, skeptical.

Dave simply laughed in response.

“You’re a disgusting weirdo, Tim.” he said, smiling, but those words didn’t hurt me at all, because I knew he wouldn’t say things like that to hurt me. “But takes one to know one.”

“Wait.” I was confused. “What does that mean?” 

“Don’t get any ideas now.” he quickly stated. “I just wanted to remind you how weird all of this is.” he took a sip of his beer. “How hilariously weird.” he laughed.

Dave, a straight guy, a good friend. Yes, I was the weirdo of the duo, but he doing what he does for me can be just as weird and the fact that he just doesn’t care only proves even more what a great bro he is, being ridiculously open-minded about all this stuff.

“You didn’t have to, you know?” I told him.

“Teasing you is hilarious.” he admitted. “Thanks for the laughs.” he patted my back.

I simply decided to remain silent, probably the best decision, and let the waterfall once again do all the talk, as the millions of droplets of water made our clothes soaking wet. Dave asserted his dominance, but the waterfall definitely had the last word.

——

Back to the camp, we quickly put some sausages with “Adam’s special sauce” on the barbecue (I’ll save you the mandatory jokes) and had a nice dinner all the 4 of us together, planning on what we were gonna do the next day; probably something simpler, not deep in the woods: the town were we left the car had a couple of good restaurants so like the bunch of city slickers we are, we decided to hang out there the next morning.

It was a windy night, but it wasn’t that cold outside, so both me and Dave lay down in our tent, next to each other, without sleeping bags. A small lantern lit the inside of the tent with a warm light. My friend was lying on his stomach, still wearing the long-sleeved shirt and the jeans from before, which I sadly immediately noticed. 

Dave’s face was even more lit because of his phone inches from his nose, which he was using to message Dana, as the continuous tapping and notifications sounds confirmed. Honestly, that was kind of annoying.

“Bro…” I whispered. “Can you… please, you know?” I said, hoping to sound just as annoying.

“Mh?” Dave replied, distracted by all the messaging.

“Please?” I repeated.

Dave smiled and resumed the noisy tapping. “Yeah sure, give me a minute.” 

“Nice.” I thanked him.

I simply laid down, staring at what can we consider the “ceiling” of our tent. That was a good day, we should actually do it more often.

“Alright.” Dave put his phone down, after indeed a minute passed. 

However, he kept moving for some reason. He laid down on his back and turned his entire body so his legs would be next to my head. But then, he cocked his denim legs up and made those go over my head, now fully showing off his denim ass right next to my face, which looked like a wall of jeans given how loose (almost sagging) it was.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” I almost yelled.

“Huh?” Dave said. All I could see was his denim ass, but I could tell he was confused.

“What the Hell?” I kept asking.

“Bro. You literally asked for it.” he explained.

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did!” he insisted, this time laughing a bit.

That felt surreal.

Then I realized.

“I was… I was talking about all the tapping, dude! If you could put that damn phone on mute!”

We remained silent for a couple of long seconds, then Dave broke the silence by laughing like an idiot.

“Sorry bro, I totally thought you finally had the guts to just ask for it ahah.”

“I would never!”

We kept talking like that, with my head inches from his ass, Dave just casually lying down like that as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Well…” my bro finally said. “Do you want me to fart or not?” he whispered, as we both remembered that Greg and Adam’s tent wasn’t far from us, even though they were already asleep.

The way he just casually asked got me massively aroused already. How in the world I manage to have a friend like him is beyond me, beyond my wildest dreams.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.” he then said.

Indeed, we were in the middle of nowhere.

“Okay…” I finally found the courage to speak. “But only if you want to.”

Dave laughed.

“I don’t want to fart in your face, bro.” he said, reaching for my head, pulling it even closer to his denim ass. “I want to fuckin’ end it. Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question. The blast that greeted me was massive, my face shaking due to the power of that fart. Whatever sauce Adam put on those sausages really messed with my friend’s stomach, which was already infamously powerful as well all know. The stench was unbearable and the entire tent shook because of the wind Dave was shooting out of his ass.

The natural blast kept going for about 12 more seconds, with my friend letting my head go halfway through the rip, knowing that I wasn’t going anywhere. At around the 16th second mark, the fart finally ended, leaving an invisible gas cloud engulfing the tent. The smell hit my bro as well, but he was basically immune at his own poisonous attacks.

Without moving his ass, he slightly got up, staring down at me from beyond that wall of jeans, with a silly smirk, checking for my reaction, which was awkward and speechless as usual, something that he’d always find amusing.

“Are you ok there, Tim?” we heard Greg yell from his tent.

Both of us laughed like idiots this time. “It’s all good!” Dave yelled. 

Maintaining eye-contact with me, with his ass still inches from my face, he started to suck air in. The facial expressions he made were just as hot as the sounds he was producing from his ass.

“Asserting dominance?” I casually asked.

Dave laughed again. “Nah, just making a thirsty bitch’s dreams come true.” he joked.

Once again, I wasn’t offended, nor Dave’s words were ill-intentioned. We always made fun of each other after all, and considering what was happening… I honestly deserved that.

My friend reached for my head one more time, pulling it close to his denim ass, now completely sagging, my nose rubbing against the red fabric of his sweaty boxer shorts. This time he was blasting me on command, but honestly there were no different from his natural ones. He was indeed really good at quenching my thirst, I couldn’t deny that.

It was a series of mid rips, loud and about 3 seconds long each. I wish Dave always had nothing better to do than blasting me, to be honest. I again heard our other friends’ yelling something, but the sound from Dave’s farts was so loud it reminded me of the waterfall.

The tip of my cock dampened as the barrage ended with a longer 9 seconds rip, which almost teared a hole through my friend’s red boxer.

He finally let me go and he resumed his previous position, lying down next to me.

“Dave…” I said. “I’ll never understand why you do it, but thanks.”

“I swear I’m gonna kick your ass if you keep saying that.” he replied, pushing me a bit.

I tried to relax, as if nothing happened, another thing that Dave was much better than me at. I closed my eyes and focused on having a good night sleep… but I heard all that tapping again.

“Really?” I said, turning to him.

“If you can handle the noises my ass makes, you can handle my phone, you hypocrite.”

“I… you… you KNEW I was talking about the phone the whole time!”

Dave simply turned to me, sporting the most annoying smirk he could mess me with.

“It’s just too easy with you.” he said one more time, and winked at me.

Truly asserting dominance, he raised one of his legs and a ripped a quick, loud one, effortlessly.

At this point I was just blushing like a fool. I turned my back to him to avoid eye contact because I was a mess. My bro is such a teasing bastard and I both hate and love him for this, but damn it’s getting way too hot in here. 

Luckily, the cold windy night helped cooling me down, even though there was more wind inside the tent than outside, because of Dave.

Maybe that’s why they call it “Windy Mountain” (yes, you knew it was coming).

End of Episode 24

[luneariaa]

so uh, latest ep inspired me somehow to complete this,, and just an imagine that i have to let out.

implied angst and cussing happened once. yes. idk if it's angsty enough tho.

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 💛

Nanami has always been so protective, especially to those whom he cares deeply about. During those assigned missions with you together, he watches over you every so often-- keeping you in his line of sight at each possible moment.

He hates to see you cry because of him. He doesn't mind it actually, but if he was the main cause, it would hurt him so much.

But you knew that he would never, intentionally hurt you.

So on that exact same day when the Shibuya incident occurred, he would place his hand on top of your head as if to provide some comfort.

"Love.."

"Don't cry. I know you're strong, and you'll get through this. Not as much as I do, but still."

"I'll protect you from everything, okay? Even this." He tenderly wipes away your tears with a small smile of reassurance. One that he still managed to muster up even in situations like this. Even paying no heed to his own injuries, but you.

He's already bloody on one side of his face; blinded an eye, and wounded, even. But how does one still manage to stand strong like him?

You feel powerless; and useless, despite having your own place as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Is this what you've learned after all these years?

You feel like a mistake-- a failure.

"Hey.." Nanami spoke with much care and affection in his tone despite his current condition. "You didn't fail anything, okay? Not in a million years, no. Don't look at yourself that way."

But his words did very little attempt to soothe your worries away within your chaotic mind, so he sighed softly while his hand caressed your head tenderly.

"You still did a very great job back there, and I am still alive, with you here."

"Don't berate yourself over this, you just can't predict anything that's about to happen. And that's okay."

"You did more than enough. I'm proud of you." He whispered at the end of his words, almost begging for you to actually listen to him by at this point, you actually looked so out of it.

And so, Nanami held you close to him, just in case. The bitter truth might await you two; he simply couldn't risk it.

You finally gave a small response to him not too long after, wiping your eyes a bit and trying to stay composed. "I'll try."

He's completely trying his best, yet you feel like a selfish, foolish person to act this way-- but you couldn't help it. How you wish to stay 'blinded' by the mere truth; refusal, denial, to face everything after this.

Nanami is so, so patient with you, not once feeling angry at you. The man seemed so understanding that you're currently mentally unstable to even process everything at once, and believe it or not, it actually saddens him to see you this way; even when he might not show it.

Slowly, but surely, he begins to cover your eyes with his hands gently, as if he's trying to shield you from witnessing anything further. One could say this can be seen metaphorically, but it works, at least for now.

"We'll go somewhere, alright? Just me and you."

"Away from here-- anywhere you want."

"Where though..?" You murmur out despite not being able to see anything. But you feel safe, with him. "Is there such a place that we can go?"

"How about the beach, hm?" He suggested in a soothingly sweet tone, brushing his fingers on the side of your face lovingly; his other hand still covering your eyes somehow.

"We get to enjoy the sunset, the crystal clear waters of the beach, the sounds of the waves.. No cursed spirits, no fighting at all."

"And let me guess--" you finally giggled upon realization of his suggestion, "--Malaysia?"

He chuckled at your correct assumption, slowly removing his hand away from your eyes. Now becoming more uncaring of your own surroundings, and a warm smile decorates your features as he caresses your cheeks; eyes not leaving your own.

"We'll go there, okay? Just-- stay close to me."

Everything will be fine.

Just don't turn your head and look behind; you'll be fine.

Don't look back.

Don't look back.

Don't look back--

Silence.

It feels like your own world; everything came crashing down on you at once. It's crushing you so hard that it feels suffocating, your legs feeling heavier with each step you take.

It never happened, did it?

The borders of your senses between your own fantasy and reality becomes blurry, and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you.

"KENTO-!!" You screamed at Nanami's name as he got burned off by Jogo's flames, before being thrown away toward other parts of the abandoned building-- glass shattering almost everywhere that some of it even hit your delicate skin.

Everything was a blur for you after, and silence filled your hearings even just for a split moment. But what you've just witnessed is indeed sending you into a state of pure shock and disbelief.

Reality is often cruel after all. Mercilessly making you as one of the people to witness such a sight.

It feels unreal, and you refuse to believe it. This has to be a dream, and you will wake up from it soon.

But no.

The impact of the throw is so hard that you're now just lying on the ground painfully; struggling to even make a proper stand.

"Must be quite a sight, eh?" Jogo asks out of the blue while a smug smile is plastered on his face, slowly approaching your helpless form.

"How does it feel to see the man; that you looked up to, being burned off? A scenery-worthy picture perhaps?"

With gritted teeth, you spat at him with all your strength left rather quickly. "FUCK YOU JUST FUCK OFF!!" All your pent up anger and frustration filled those words up with no hesitation. The audacity-

"Is that all you can do?" He mocks you, a loud laughter following after. "You're so weak."

"A time waster. This is getting boring anyway."

He then proceeded to burn you off just like what he did to Nanami without any mercy being spared.

imma just sleep i got sleepy after wrote this- :p

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

I love your RKJ head canon about Keeley’s birthday!! Any thoughts on how the other sides of the triangle go about planning Roy’s and Jamie’s birthdays?

Hello, sweet one! You sent me this some time ago (in response to this post) and I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting because this is a darling ask, but fic and life happened. Now I am ready though! Here goes:

So, in theory Jamie’s birthday wouldn’t be too different from Keeley’s, as far as his partners celebrating him goes. Keeley would take him out for grooming and pampering and shopping and being seen in all the right places looking cool as fuck, spoiling him rotten and with a special sexy surprise thrown in somewhere along the way. (I’m thinking a changing room at a very exclusive store, Keeley successfully and secretly bribing relevant parties to leave her and Jamie to it, and then simply sweeping in wearing killer heels and something outrageously sexy when Jamie’s trying on whatever and he’s like “uh, Keeley, we’re in a shop?” and she asks if he trusts her and when he says “’course” she tells him to shut up and there’s probably handcuffs and she’s being very mean and very sweet and hitting all the right spots and the slight wrongness of doing that there only adds to the fun.) (Differing from Keeley’s birthday, though, this outing takes place on Jamie’s actual birthday, because no, he does not want to stay in for that.)

And Roy would want to make it all about them, celebrating quietly and intimately at home, quality time for quality partners and all the love and attention. Only… I think Roy gets a little tripped up that first year. Like, he starts thinking about all the things he’d do for Keeley’s birthday and when he starts thinking about doing some of that stuff for Jamie he starts to feel… weird. Like, not about all of it! Cooking a nice meal? He’s all about that! All sorts of sexual favours? Absolutely! But the sappier stuff he’d do for Keeley, like so many roses or drawing a nice bath? He feels weird about it, and he’s not sure if he feels weird about it because it’s another guy  (and a little bit it is that) or because it’s Jamie (and a little bit it is that too). And he gets that this is just masculinity bullshit getting in the way, and that’s making him feel like a piece of shit (true Roy Kent style, ‘cause that man has NO tolerance for his own shortcomings).

So yeah, it trips him up a bit, that first year, and maybe because of it he lets Keeley takes the lead – until either she or Jamie confronts him about it, and he ‘fesses up and they talk about it and he sorts it out. Maybe Dr. Sharon helps.

Also, I think that Jamie very much is the sort of person to make sure there’s a big party to celebrate him happening; he absolutely takes the entire team for a night out, dancing and drinking and having a blast. Maybe Sam makes sure they start at Ola’s.

Roy is easier: he does not want a big party, he does not want to spend a day throwing money at pretty stuff. He’d rather not be reminded that he’s getting older (even if that’s not such a sore subject now that the worst has already happened; he quit football, and he survived it), he just wants to spend some time with his loved ones, same as he does every day. So Jamie and Keeley join him for Phoebe’s second favourite holiday of the year, ie Uncle Roy’s birthday (which is a lunch kind of deal, and in time may come to include Georgie and Simon), and then they take him home to show him their affection in all the ways. There are gifts, of course, and either Jamie cooks them dinner or they order takeaway. There’s Jamie and Keeley looking their very best for Roy, teaming up to drive him and mad and feel like a king. There’s a lot of fucking, and telling Roy how amazing he is. (Which he does love to hear, even if he also really struggles to.)

One of the gifts is always a mid-week getaway, the three of them heading off to somewhere luxurious and discreet for a couple of days, and Keeley promises not to work and Jamie promises to stay off his socials, and mostly they keep those promises and it’s just them hanging out and having a quiet but grand old time. It’s damned hard, trying to find the time given their very intense scheduels, but they make a special effort for this, and that’s part of the gift too.

(Maybe, in a few years time, Roy can be enticed to quietly entertain the team for just a few hours, because they all fucking adore him and want to celebrate his birthday, dammit! Maybe it’s a Higgins’ place, all Roy has to do is show up and there’ll be a few nibbles and a few drinks. Roy agrees, on the condition that they all pretend it’s just a random get-together that happens to be adjacent to his birthday. Gifts are theoretically forbidden, but that never works out because Dani has a habit of pretending to find wrapped parcels, going “oh, someone must have left it here, I have no idea who, but it says Coach Kent so it must be for you, how thoughtful of this mysterious person” and not even Roy has the heart to ever tell Dani to fuck off, so.)

[sp1cy-t0ss]

Astrobleme

Antares is officially a series! This one is pure fluff.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49804744

‘Cuddling,’ Damian muses, is a more nuanced activity than he had thought as a child. There are a staggering variety of ways to do it, but he has found his favorite. 

People are often clingy when they hug, squeezing even if they try to rein in the impulse. It could be tolerated, even enjoyed, from anyone allowed to survive the attempt, but sudden restriction of his movements and tight pressure could still bring a vague sense of unease if he wasn’t prepared.

Danny, as in most things, is different. He is more than content to nestle into Damian’s arms like he has always belonged there, simply soaking in the affection as though there’s no safer place in the world.

At the moment Danny is curled up against him, head on his shoulder as they lay on the ground somewhere in Midwestern America to stargaze. It’s not something Damian ever thought of doing in the past, but his companion makes all the difference.

Danny speaks of space with wide-eyed passion, rambling excitedly about the properties of each planet, achievements in exploration, and how this sky’s constellations vary from those in his own dimension. It’s hard to keep up at times, but his enthusiasm is infectious and endearing. It’s impossible to watch Danny’s eyes light up and not share in his wonder.

Damian’s favorite part of stargazing, however, is the stories. The night sky is a tapestry of myths and legends, and Danny seems to know them all by heart. He weaves their tales with a softer, almost reverent tone, eyes on the sky throughout. On those nights, he can hypnotize for hours.

“Antares, can I ask you something?” Danny’s gaze is fixed on the sky, as it has been for two hours now, but a subtle tension in his face betrays his nerves.

“Of course.”

Danny steels himself with a deep breath. “Iwantyoutobiteme.” 

The words come out more like a bullet than a sentence, and are just as unexpected. Surely Damian heard wrong. Surely. 

“What?”

Danny looks away, clearly mortified. “That’s my question. If you would...bite me.  I swear I can explain.” 

The mental image is admittedly captivating. Very captivating. He would make the most beautiful sounds...damn it, focus! Careful to let none of these idiotic thoughts show, Damian allows himself a raised eyebrow. “I did hear you correctly then. Why?”

Danny rolls over on his side to look at him.

“You know how I spent a few months in the Realms before I came here?” At Damian’s nod, he continues. “Well, um. I learned ghosts have a thing about scars. They’re memories, you know? We only get scars when there’s a lot of emotion involved.” He drags a hand down his face and groans. “You already know that, why am I telling you?” 

He did. It was why his Beloved still bore faint burns from his so-called parents’ weapons.

“You may tell me again, if it will help,” Damian says patiently as he places a careful hand on Danny’s cheek. Danny does much of his on-the-fly thinking out loud, and this is clearly important to him.

Danny gives him a grateful look and relaxes into the touch. He takes a fortifying breath. “Right, right. Memories. And, well, most of those suck. Obviously. So ghosts will mark their best friends, their families, and…partners. Like tattoos, I guess. And...I want one from you. A memory that doesn’t hurt.”

Damian’s eyes widen in shock. They both enjoy the occasional teasing nip, but deliberate scarification is miles beyond that. The idea of irreversibly marking his Beloved, of injuring him to do so, is antithetical. He can’t.

And yet…an indisputable claim. A symbol of their bond that nothing could take away. His more possessive instincts virtually sing at the idea.

He needs more information. “...And a human can do this?”

Danny nods. “You’re liminal enough that it should work. But you wouldn’t be able to channel ectoplasm through a weapon like most ghosts do. You’d have to…bite. Maybe scratch, that might work.”

“I didn’t get to do it with my fraid before I left,” he admits. “We didn’t know about the…ritual, Dad calls it. Even if we had, everything happened so suddenly and...” Danny wilts at the unspoken memories.

“Are you certain you want my mark? It would be permanent,” Damian cautions. His Beloved can be so impulsive, after all.

“I know. I’ve thought about it for months, ever since our anniversary, and…even if Clockwork is wrong about us, even if we break up tomorrow…” Danny briefly looks pained, but he shakes it off with burning eyes. “I want to remember this.”

Damian suppresses a shiver at his conviction. The question is, does he want this? It seems a drastic act less than two years into a relationship. His rational mind wants to hesitate. 

But…

A vigilante’s life is one of constant danger. Any ordinary day might tear him away from his family, his friends, this ridiculous boy who has stolen his heart. Even if he never falls in battle, Damian is only human, only mortal. His love, with any luck, will live for centuries or more. 

The odds of becoming a ghost upon death are high in his circumstances, but there is no guarantee.

The pure hope shining in Danny’s eyes makes the decision for him. He cannot leave him behind. “So do I,” he finally says. “How will we do this?” 

Damian is rewarded with a smile that could end wars. He can’t help but return it.

Danny sits up on his knees and braces himself with his arms, practically vibrating with anticipation. “It’s pretty simple. Dad says you just make the mark, and I…concentrate on you. How I feel.” He mumbles the last bit, embarrassed. “It’ll take a bit for the mark to settle though, so I’ll be out of it for a few minutes. Just let me come back on my own.”

Damian nods his understanding. “And where do you want it?” 

“My wrist,” Danny says with no hesitation. “I want to see it all the time. ” Oh, it isn’t fair what those words do to him. Danny knows it too, if the glint in his eyes means anything. He transforms with a grin, but it fades in favor of a blush as he presents his upturned wrist.

Struck by inspiration, Damian drops to one knee as if proposing and lifts the offered wrist to his lips. Danny lets out an embarrassed meep at the gesture, as planned, but Damian isn’t done. A moment like this requires an appropriate vow.

“My eternity is yours, my love.” With that, he presses a gentle kiss against Danny’s pulse point, and bites down.

Cool flesh easily parts under his teeth, and he drags thick lines lengthwise another inch or so up Danny’s arm. The electric, almost citric flavor of ectoplasm fills his mouth. It tastes…good, contrary to his expectations, and he swallows the liquid on impulse before withdrawing.

For the finishing touch, Damian uses a fingernail to carve a thinner line back across the same skin in a simple, elegant flourish. It won’t do to have an identifiably human bite mark carry over to Danny’s human form, so an obscuring element will help disguise its origin. Perhaps more importantly, he has a point to make. After all, his Dove deserves only the best.

When the mark is complete, Danny gasps. He stares forward with eyes wholly consumed by green light, unresponsive. as though in a trance. A rumble of love-mine-excited-happy-LOVE radiates from him with startling strength, far beyond the rare faint impressions Damian is accustomed to from his Beloved. The ritual itself is all but forgotten as he basks in the emotions.

A ghost’s ability to project and sense emotions seemed like a glaring weakness at first. An aura cannot lie, and thus is a double-edged sword. Damian held that opinion, at least until an otherwise typical date nearly brought him to his knees when he sensed Danny’s emotions. 

Feeling his new partner’s contentment, security, and honest affection toward him was… humbling. Addictive. 

(He’s certain it always will be.)

After nearly ten minutes, Danny’s eyes dim and he blinks dazedly at his bleeding wrist. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, expression euphoric as he admires the wound. Though the scene is odd, knowing that he brought his partner this happiness brings Damian a rush of pride and warmth.

“Did it work?” he asks.

Danny faces him, his smile definitely beyond human limits now. “Yeah! See?” He shoves his wrist into Damian’s face once more.

Indeed, the wound looks as though it’s been healed for weeks. Raised lines stand out proudly from Danny’s skin with a faint silvery sheen. The only oddity is how wide the scar still is, as if something prevented normal human flesh from properly knitting together. 

���Beautiful,” Damian hears himself whisper as he trails a finger down the marks. And they really are; his signature, right there for all to see on this most precious of things. The knowledge sits like embers in his chest, crackling with satisfaction.

Danny preens at the comment, and Damian realizes he can still feel the echoes of love-proud-mine from his Beloved. Perhaps it’s an effect of the scarification process.

Eventually Danny clears his throat. “Normally we’d both get one. But I know you can’t have identifying things like big scars, so I got you something instead.” 

He reaches into his chest cavity and pulls out a black ribbon, carefully placing it in Damian’s hand. Closer inspection reveals the ribbon to be a silk choker, deep black and inlaid with gems that sparkle like nothing Damian has ever seen, in the exact green of Danny’s eyes. Deeper green thread connects the gems in a familiar shape: the Scorpius constellation.

“Crystallized ectoplasm,” Danny explains. “I made them from my own ‘plasm, so they have my ectosignature. Humans won’t know what it means, but ghosts and liminals will.” He gives a proud grin.

While Damian processes that, however, nerves rapidly encroach on Danny’s enthusiasm. His smile falls. “You don’t have to! I brought normal emeralds if that’s creepy! Unless–”

Damian hooks the choker into place, cutting off Danny’s fretting. The ribbon is exquisitely soft, flush against his neck without pressing into it. No one would be able to grab it in a fight, and the silk glides comfortingly across his skin as he turns his head. With a little focus, he can feel a faint chill from the gems.

It feels like home.

Damian finds himself fighting back watery eyes before speaking. A roughness in his voice still betrays him. 

“I will treasure it. Thank you, Dove.”

Danny still makes no attempt to hide his own tears, pressing his forehead to Damian’s and wrapping him in a hug. It’s tight this time, but eagerly reciprocated. 

“Thanks, Daylight. I love you so much.” The words are mumbled into his neck, and he meets them with a silent kiss to the half-ghost’s forehead. As their embrace loosens, Damian feels his Beloved slump against him. It seems the ritual is taxing on ghosts, and he feels himself flagging slightly as well. Carefully, he sets Danny on the ground and settles into a spooning position. It’s a warm spring night and there’s not a soul around for miles; they can rest here for a while.

It’s not surprising when Danny starts purring. He tends to lose control of the function while dozing – one of his many endearing quirks. 

What startles them both into waking is the other purr that sounds out to answer it. 

The boys bolt upright, cutting off the quiet rumble in Damian’s throat. Neither says anything for a long moment. Then Damian sighs. “We have to tell your father, don’t we.” It’s not a question. Gods only know what this means in terms of his growing liminality, no matter the cause.

Danny falls backward again with a groan. At the same time, his aura flares with abject mortification. “Oh Ancients, we have to tell him you bit me.”

“How dreadful,” Damian snarks. “I’m the one with five siblings that already call me a vampire.”

Danny laughs. “Good point– You’re totally screwed. Remind me to stock up on garlic, bee-tee-dubs.”

Damian glares without heat. “You’re the worst, Winters.”

“Oh yeah? Do you vant to suck my bluud about it?” Danny taunts, wiggling his fingers and hissing for effect.

A deep, theatrical sigh. “Pennyworth must cease feeding you after midnight.”

From there they settle into familiar bickering, but most of Damian’s mind is on other things. Tonight was a milestone, marking a stronger bond between them, yet it also feels like nothing has changed. He can’t bring himself to fear the future like Danny does, fully convinced they will be together forever. One day Danny will truly believe their happiness will last. Perhaps not someday soon, but Damian can wait.

He touches the ribbon around his neck, feeling pure devotion radiate from the glittering gems, and smiles.

After all, we have eternity.

[welcometololaland]

wip wednesday

y'all - i feel like i've been so fucking annoying lately but i'm here to request one thing of you - give me some juicy snippets to read because i'm finally on top of my shit. and i've always wanted to start wip wednesday (for all i know someone has already started it but don't rain on my parade! let me live in denial) and now i maybe can. This is from ALTA which is (omg) so close to being posted. 10 days. fuck. i'm not ready (i am).

“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” TK asks, his voice breaking as his head remains burrowed into Carlos’ shoulder. He’s stopped shaking now, which Carlos takes to be a good sign, but he’s cried so persistently that the whole front of Carlos’ jacket is wet. 

He pauses, leans back and cups TK’s face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away a few errant tears. He briefly considers making a passionate speech about TK’s mother being dead but not gone – living on in his heart – but then he decides for pragmatism. He thinks TK will appreciate that more, anyway.

“Yes,” he says simply. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept.”

TK sniffs, his glazed eyes staring helplessly into Carlos’ own. “What do I do now, Carlos?”

Carlos sighs, brushing away another of TK's tears. “I’m not really sure, TK,” he admits. “But right now, I can take you home. It might be nice to cry somewhere that isn’t your high school computer lab.”

A tiny, hesitant smile appears at the corners of TK’s mouth. “I think my dad will be relieved,” he says. “He keeps asking why I haven’t cried yet, like it's some kind of crime.”

“Well, he’s definitely going to be pleased to see you,” Carlos points out, as TK nods tearfully. 

“Could you— Do you mind coming with me?” TK asks as Carlos steps back and drops his hands. “I don’t really want to be alone and my dad is driving me nuts. My other friends…they wouldn’t understand.”

“I hope they do understand, TK,” Carlos replies solemnly, collecting his books and following TK out of the darkened classroom. “I think everyone will do their best to support you.”

TK makes a non-committal sound as they walk down the empty hall – devoid of students – amplifying the sound of their sneakers on the linoleum. “Not like you,” he says, after a pause. “I know we’ve only been friends for a little bit, but you’re different.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos asks, pushing open the front doors and following TK down the steps. “In what way?”

TK pauses, looking back up at Carlos as he descends the stairs, a pensive look on his face. “You’re good, Carlos,” he replies simply. “You’re good for me.”

Open tag for anyone to share but also some targeted attacks under the cut (with insane requests, feel free to ignore me)!!!

@theghostofashton (need some exes to lovers PLEASE), @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut (boxing AU boxing AU!), @goodways (got a tasty treat shannon?) @reyesstrand (food fic???) @strandnreyes (please don't hurt me but you can if you want) @rmd-writes (just because i love you) @heartstringsduet (FIRST AID?!) @carlos-in-glasses (what's next up CIG?) @birdclowns (your wip snippet game has me blurry eyed, i must know more) @fitzherbertssmolder (any comic progress?) @louis-ii-reyes-strand (been loving your snippets) @lilythesilly (fighter pilot AU?!) @kiloskywalker (tarlos fighter pilot AU????) @sanjuwrites (soulmates????) @three-drink-amy (teacher AU teacher AU teacher AU!!) @chicgeekgirl89 (any yachts about?) @lemonlyman-dotcom (some music fic for my ears???) @wandering-night19 (4 x 18 coda???) @thisbuildinghasfeelings (cross stitching update??!!!) @freneticfloetry (something from the soulmates timer fic???) @alrightbuckaroo (summer parisian au my beloved!!!!) @cha-melodius (you've got mail AU????) @redshirt2 (anything you would like to contribute, i'd just love you to keep feeding me!) @iboatedhere (how are those prompts???) @orchidscript (lovingly bullying you to keep writing) @marjansmarwani (i know the words are hard but also i am lovingly bullying you as well <3) @morganaspendragonss (has angst queen got anything this week?) @lightningboltreader (THAT ANGSTY ONE BED THING I AM SCARED BUT I WANT)