#i read the messages and it just seemed like he was talking logistics?

[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

*

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

*

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

*

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 14 - Birthday Parties | ‘Ours’

You sat in the back garden holding Teddy. Normally, you didn’t love the idea of opening a gift whilst a party was still going on. It made you a little queasy even thinking about having to muster up some sort of reaction for a gift you might’ve not liked but nevertheless your party planner had convinced you it’d be cute for Teddy to open a few. Your parents had arrived the day of the party. They weren't really ones for staying anywhere ‘extra’ days. They seemed to always have a jam packed schedule and even had to ‘move some things around’ to ‘make it work’ to attend their granddaughter's first birthday. You handed Teddy to your mum who wanted to hold her while she showed her what she had gotten for her as a present. Your newly 12 month old baby didn’t really have the attention span people were looking for from her but she tried her best. It was almost uncomfortable watching your mum be so comfortable with Teddy. She was so positive and motivating. It confused you. She emphasized how beautiful Teddy was over and over again. Repeating how much she loved Teddy’s chubby arms. The way her pudgy golden skin rolled. You don’t think you had ever heard her say the word in that tone. ‘Chubby’ was never a good thing if it was coming off her lips and yet here you were almost melting over it. She had given Teddy a Judith Leiber rainbow bear purse. Your mum loved Judith Leiber bags; they were kitschy, extravagant and expensive. It was sweet in her own way.

“Wow, say thank you, yeah?” Trent cooed to Teddy kissing her cheek. He was able to manage some sort of polite response. It was a £5,000 plus crystal clutch. Did your one year old daughter need this? Absolutely not. In your mum's head though was the perfect thing for any child. Of course it was. And there she was again… that’s mum, champagne in hand, luxury bag in the other, terrifyingly gorgeous face waiting for your recognition.

Winnie and Lauren had flown over with your parents for the occasion and a few of Trent and his brother’s friends came as well. Frankly, you appreciated them just showing up. They were friends and family, of course, but they were also in their young twenties willingly spending their time watching your baby mush cake into her face. It was George's birthday in a few days time as well and he had invited you and Trent on a trip for it but it was a little far-fetched. Every time you saw anyone who was invited on said trip their time was spent trying to convince you to go on it, today that person was George. He was persistent until Winnie got a hold of him. George started talking to Winnie stood in your back garden preoccupied for the moment.

“Not a footballer….” Lauren cooed in an obnoxious tone in Winnie’s ear as if she didn’t know that. She of course had met George previously. Winnie swatted at Lauren’s ass with her hand to tell her to keep moving. It was kind of funny to think of how you never realized how much was going on around you as a kid. Like what adults were actually doing at the parties you were at. Right now, you were taking it easy. You could have a drink here or there but if you were holding Teddy you didn’t want to take anything too far. Too far didn’t exist in everyone else at this part your age’s vocabulary. Their day was just beginning. Lauren and Winnie were staying with you which in theory was fun. It was fun up until later into the evening when you realized they didn’t spend a lot of time especially together at night when a baby was in the same house. You had said Winnie and Lauren were like hell on wheels but throwing Trents friends into the mix, a forest fire.

“It’s my child’s first birthday… like why!” you shrieked at Winnie who was currently peeling her clothes off to dive into your pool you had been putting off closing because you were too lazy. It was an unreasonably warm night for the north west of England but still. She went to respond to you but one of Marcel’s friends pushed her in. All the ‘adults’ had left. I mean, you were adults. Your sister that just went in the pool was an adult but it didn’t feel that way. She came up from the water with a gasp.

“Don’t you want to be a cool mum?” Winnie tried to guilt you into coming in with her as she treaded water. You rolled her eyes at her poor attempt to convince you but you still took slight offense to her comment. Was she saying you weren’t cool anymore?

“I am cool… I just don’t want to swim right now.” You stood your ground but shakily. It pinged in your brain wondering if you had become less fun. Until Marcel came over and picked you up from behind. “Marce, I swear to fucking god, put me down!” You yelped as he walked closer to the pool with you squirming. “My phone! My phone! Wait!” You begged him not to, at the very least, ruin your phone.

“Gimme your phone then …” he taunted you knowing it was in fact, not in your pocket. You looked at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll go in with you…” he spoke quieter just to you in the hopes he could entice you if he went with you.

“I really don’t want to get wet…” You moaned. Really not interested in getting thrown in. He wasn’t happy you didn’t accept his olive branch.

“You used to be so much more fun. Relax.” He spoke to you teetering on the edge of the pool. Everyone was telling you to relax lately so you just closed your eyes slightly defeated. He threw you in. The sound of the water engulfing you was jarring. Trent stood on your back patio watching you pull yourself out of the water completely soaked. Your white tank top now see through, your bra on display. He felt so conflicted like he needed to be a responsible but he couldn’t focus… you looked really fucking hot.

“Trentski!!!! Wannna go for a swim?!” one of the other boys called out seeing him walk out of the house. You were underwater when he did so you smiled picking your head up to see him. He jogged up some stone stairs to get to where you all were by the pool.

“I’m all good, lad.” He dapped up a few people. He had been inside after putting Teddy down and then had just kind of chilled in her nursery for a while making sure she was okay. He was exhausted after his game and you appreciated him being so active with how many people flooded your house today. He liked to retreat after matches so this was a little abnormal for the normal post game routine. “Little wet?” He whispered behind you. You leaned back into him. He winced feeling your wet body and hair cold against his warm skin. You hummed. He wrapped his strong arms around you anyways, crossing his muscles over your chest.

“Before the pool… I was on my way up to you.” You reached behind you and dragged your nails down his neck a little harsher, gaining his full attention.

“And now you're all wet.” He cooed. You giggled rolling your neck to the side resting your head back onto his shoulder.

“I was gonna get wet anyways, right?” You asked him batting your eyelashes up at him. He looked away from you with a smirk trying to ignore your comment and pay attention to the conversation ensuing around you.

“It’d be a little different. I’ll show you later.” He whispered resting his chin onto your shoulder. He kissed your cheek and you felt a shiver run through your body. You shuddered with anticipation but also from your wet clothes sticking to your now cold skin.

You went inside a bit later with Lauren and Winnie to your kitchen to make margaritas. Nothing new was happening here. 1942, ice, lime, agave, simple as. You grabbed everything and placed it on the counter and Lauren took over from there. Hers were ‘better’ i.e. she just put more tequila in. You sat at the island with Winnie. You snooped and saw she was on the dating app Raya so you proceeded to tease her and then asked to ‘play.’ Winnie insisted it wasn’t a game to play, she was in fact looking for love.

“No, no, no! This one is a no. Absolutely not.” You sighed as you swiped again and again on Winnie’s account profiling potential matches.

“Why are you even on Raya? You already have access to the gems of that app.” Lauren asked, pausing, holding the cocktail shaker. Raya was the dating app that a lot of athletes used because you had to authenticate and apply to get in so it was better for them but in turn a lot of girls used it in an effort to meet someone like a footballer. Which at the moment, there were a few in your back garden.

“No, I don’t Lauren… because someone keeps hooking up with every man.” Winnie complained, grabbing her phone back from you. She really was only referring to Jude and Marcel, only one was a footballer but she felt like her point still stood.

“Two? Calm down… You were Miss. T has rosters full.” Lauren said back to her pouring the margaritas over ice. She was teasing Winnie because she had ranted on at a dinner once back in New York about how amazing it was to have a professional athlete likely become her brother in law but alas she had not exactly reaped the rewards the same way Lauren had.

“You both need to relaxxxx. You’ll find someone who’ll make you happy and… “ You continued to babble buzzed unintentionally about how perfect your life was indirectly and how they'll eventually have relationships and families. Lauren and Winnie rolled their eyes simultaneously. You were then cut off.

“Y/N, I get you’re a mum and getting married” she laughed. “But not everyone has to do that. I’m perfectly fine like this.” You rolled your eyes dismissing her. Lauren had a firm stance on wanting to always be the ‘fun aunt’ but she was softer than that. She’d be good with kids. You let her yap away about stuff like this because it was authentically her to stand her ground but another more fragile side would always peek through the cracks of her hard exterior. You watched Lauren’s eyes light up and her lips pull into a devious smirk watching the boys outside from the kitchen.

“So what about Jude?” You asked bluntly cutting off her thoughts as she slid a glass over to you. You took your first sip and winced at the harsh burn of the alcohol.

“What about Jude?” She looked at you like you were asking about someone she barely spoke to. Lauren loved to flirt but she was seeing Jude and you knew that.

“Aren’t you talking to him?” You knew she was, she told you she was, Trent told you she was, Jude told Trent she was. She was in Madrid what felt like every other week and if she wasn’t he was flying her to wherever he was.

“No…” She lied poorly so you waited for the truth sipping her drink. Maybe it was better. “Fine, yeah but you think Jude Bellingham isn’t fucking other girls in Madrid?” She said with a bit of sarcasm. You gave her a soft smile. She could put on a good show that’s for sure, she was being herself, yeah, but you knew the glimmer in her eyes well that she really meant ‘how am I meant to know if the boy I like isn’t fucking other people.’

“I don’t know, does he think Lauren Young is fucking other guys in New York, Liverpool, London, and” You were going to name more cities recalling all the places she’d been lately. Your comment seemed judgmental but it wasn’t her bedroom life you cared about. You cared about how she she was feeling about a boy you knew pretty well. They didn’t have to label it if they didn’t want to but clearly they were veering towards dating.

“That’s not nice…” She flicked her eyes at you meanly. You stood up from your stool and walked around the island to her. This Lauren was the one that would always win. The one that really cared. She loved having sex, playing around with men, nothing wrong with that but to say she didn’t care at all about any of it wasn’t true. She liked him and he liked her.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You giggled. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” You hugged her and rested your head on her shoulder. “I just meant maybe you two should clear the air a little, be honest.” You emphasized with real sentiment. “but what do I know I'm a ‘mum.’” You quipped back at her.

“Y/N, don’t be like that! Lauren was just saying she wants to get dicked down whenever she wants by whoever she wants.” Winnie chimed in stopping your subtle jabs. They weren’t serious but she didn’t care listening to you two go tick for tat.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Lauren laughed cheersing Winnie’s glass. Lauren was keeping her and Jude’s monogamy pretty hush. So every time she traveled Winnie thought she was seeing other people, she wasn’t.

“And I don’t get dicked down?” You asked offended stepping back from them reverting the conversation back to yourself.

“I don’t know, what's all that like lately?” Winnie asked you, tracing the shape of Trent’s figure through the window. You started laughing. You and Trent had sex a lot considering his schedule and you had a one year old. Hell, you were waking up getting eaten out from behind. Winnie and Lauren watched you giggle and waited for you to answer impatiently.

“It’s really good. Really, really good.” You answered with a smug smile looking outside at Trent not at them.

“What’s annoying is you know it’s actually really good when she won't tell us. It’s when we yapp on and on about it. That’s when you know you’re actually trying to convince yourself the sex was good.” Lauren explained to Winnie.

“Lucky… So annoying, honestly.” Winnie quipped with an eye roll.

It was George’s birthday so you wanted to go, you really did, but logistically this was insane. George had invited some boys on this birthday trip to go to the United States, which Trent initially thought, given the location, that would somehow convince you but it didn’t. They were going all the way to Nevada for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. While that sounded amazing, it took almost half a day just to travel there. It was nice to include you, you didn’t expect to be but it was a relaxed trip, you’d gone on holiday with a lot of them before. This was just such a bad idea but Trent was hell bent. Yes, he would be mid season but if it meant you got to watch an F1 race he’d certainly find a way. It was late November and your baby was not your baby. She was 14 months and it felt like she was practically a teenager.

“Baby, I swear it’ll be so fun. Promise. George told me that Winnie should come as well. It won’t be just you and lads. Your parents can take Ted, please, baby.” He was begging you like he wanted to go to a party and you were his parent.

“T, I never said you couldn’t go!” You giggled massaging his muscular shoulders leaned over the back of the couch as he sat with Teddy. Her cute gaze looking up at you. You pressed a kiss to her lips before you kept talking. “Honestly, I just don’t think it makes sense for me to go to Las Vegas with a bunch of English boys.”

“It’s because we’re English?” His eyes narrowed at you in confusion and then he laughed. “That’s such a random bullshit lie Y/N. You’re just being lazy, come with me. Come have fun with me.” He begged you. You’d be lying if your mind didn’t immediately rush to the idea of having him alone in a hotel room for a few days. Just the way his arms were wrapped so strongly around your baby girl, how gentle his thumb moved over her cheek. You were jealous of Teddy right now, she always got his attention when he was home. Summer seemed ages ago already and you missed him, his time felt hard to come by.

“It’s not a lie, this is just a lad’s holiday in Las Vegas… Do you understand how that sounds? Like it's just a bunch of boys flying to Las Vegas… like casinos, strip clubs, I don't know what you're doing” You went to keep talking, explaining to him that ‘lads on tour’ is really only fun if you're one of the lads.

“Yeah, George, big into strip clubs, baby.” He teased you. You said it more as a description of Las Vegas not really thinking about what they were going to actually do. George definitely had rigid principles. A strip club just was not his vibe at all so to be fair the idea that it’d be something they’d do was pretty far out of the question. “You didn’t mind crashing the first time, look how that turned out… Made the most perfect girl in the whole world. Huh? Are you perfect, my baby bear?” Trent cooed in between pressing a million kisses onto Teddy. You could barely make out his words but you knew what he was saying. “C’mon baby. It'll be quick” He whined.

“It quite literally will not. It’s like a 10 hour flight, T.” You complained, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter cheekily. He winced at the tension you pinched his muscles with.

“See you’re already doing your math in your head. I know you’ve got half of your trip planned by the time I’m even finishing this sentence.” He teased. He joked with you that you often had your own mathematical system in your head. The way you processed things ahead of time. Really this mathematical system was just a form of anxiety he didn’t experience. It consisted of problem solving the likes of ‘if its an 8 hour time difference and a 10 hour flight, we’ll have to leave England on this date at this time, etc, etc, etc.�� It was exhausting and you were relieved that he thought it was endearing and not crazy.

When you landed in Las Vegas it was late and you went straight to the hotel. Your parents had kindly taken Teddy. You’d only be away from her for about 72 hours total and about one of the days would be spent traveling. Nevertheless, it made you so nervous. You really didn’t leave her overnight ever. You didn’t want to. It stressed you out but you had a lovely flight with Trent regardless. You collapsed into the hotel bed almost immediately upon arrival.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You giggled leaning into the pillows behind you. Trent laid on top of you entirely. His weight was crushing you but you didn’t mind. He sighed and he nuzzled into your neck.

“Baby, I miss her.” He muffled into your skin. You pouted hearing him. He was always honest with you, he just wasn’t always keen about letting himself be vulnerable but here he was. It just fell out. He really missed Teddy.

“Me too, T. It’s okay though. I’ll be with her soon.” You rubbed his back hoping to comfort him the best you could knowing you were going to see her and he was going straight back to work.

“I just am starting to feel bad like I’m already away from her so much and now I’m just tacking on days. I didn’t think about it this way and now I just miss my baby.” He spoke still muffled against you. “Sorry…” He unnecessarily apologized.

“It’s okay, baby.... You know you can tell me these things, T? I want to know. I understand. I miss her so much but she’ll be fine. Probably doesn’t even know what's going on. Will be back with mummy and daddy in no time.” You giggled thinking of your little girl.

“I feel like a bad dad. I’m so happy you’re connecting with her. Seeing you with her, I love it all, really, but I’m jealous. I’m getting nervous I’m away from her too much. Like it didn’t surprise me she said your name first. I knew it. I could feel it. As much as it’s all jokes, I'm starting to get worried.” You stroked up his spine once more before pausing. You felt horrible he felt that way. You understood he was definitely away from home more than you could have ever predicted. You never imagined seeing him so infrequently in and out of the house but that didn’t mean the time he was home with you and with Teddy wasn’t incredibly impactful. Trent loved his job more than anything in the world but you don’t think he ever anticipated what it’d feel like to have her. You pressed your lips to his hair and he just clung to you.

“You’re the best dad to her. I promise.” You whispered. Trent loved you, of course he did but you were an independent person. Teddy needed so much, she needed to learn and grow and feel and he hated that even though he was doing the thing that allowed her to have the life she does, he was missing so much of it. He fell asleep quietly, thoughts screaming. You stayed up just having a think inspecting every inch of his skin. Every divet, tan line, and freckle. It sounds ridiculous but you wanted to just see how human he was. With Trent, he just did things on another level. He was so good at… life. He was a great athlete, a great partner, a great son, he was everything and you loved him for all those incredible high points yet the moments where he wavered, the ones where he may have felt low, you really loved him for those. You selfishly wanted to know you took care of him, that he trusted you, that he felt safe with you. The moments when he wasn’t on the biggest stage. The confidence he showed learning how to be a dad was equally if not much more impressive than watching him walk out onto a pitch. He was everything to you and Teddy. You wanted to tell him for hours just ramble all the things you adored about him but you figured you’d let him sleep for now. You’d tell him in the morning and you did.

The circuit was hot. You got to the grid for qualifying the day before the race in Las Vegas and the weather was warm and it was packed with people. This was Trent’s element. As reserved as he could be he had an aura and charisma that drew people to him and made these types of events his domain. He was away from home. He could step out of his comfort zone a little so you pushed him to dress that way. You had met with a friend of yours who was a personal stylist a couple months ago. She had texted you when Prada’s new collection came into Selfridges. You were headed into Manchester to hopefully find something for Teddy’s birthday but ended up with a lot of bags for yourself and Trent including a pair of beige overalls, you were begging him to wear tomorrow. Overtime in your relationship, Trent just gave in to letting you dress him. It started slow trying to convince you he could rival the fits you pulled together but the fact of the matter is that you had done this for a living. You could strike a football as well but you wouldn’t try to tell him you could do it as a job.

“No, you do not understand.” You emphasized with a laugh trying to get him to comprehend just how good he really looked. You had dressed Trent in a white tee. He underestimated how good it was. You always remember seeing him pulling a similar white t-shirt over his head the first night you spent with him. It was seared into your brain. It was mouth watering. His tan was still lingering from summer. He got sent a pair of trousers from Adidas you approved and it looked almost too good. Too clean. As much as you had thought about what Trent would wear you didn’t really anticipate you would be attending this so your outfit really was an afterthought. You opted for an embroidered crop top you had picked up in your Selfridges haul and a khaki mini skirt paired with a Mui Mui green bag. You didn’t think too much about this but Trent told you you probably wouldn't go back to the hotel before dinner so you wanted to wear something that could work for your whole day.

After you visited one of the garages you walked through the paddock holding Trent’s hand. Winnie met up with you and you actually were having a really good time. The sun was out and it was just good vibes celebrating with George. You went up into a hospitality suite overlooking the track. Trent offered to get you drinks so you took him up on it. While he was waiting, a teammate of his came up behind him to say hello. Jadon Sancho played in the Bundesliga so he wasn’t in England during the year currently but you had met him maybe once or twice. He had a funny couple years between moving clubs and just coming back into form so he wasn’t around the international team much anymore but he and Trent were still tight. He and his friends had also managed to swing this trip.

“Nah, fiancé now bro. I haven’t spoken to you, you know. You go to Germany, we don’t hear from you.” Trent filled Jadon in on his life at the bar with a laugh. To be fair, keeping in touch got slightly difficult if they were both in season. You hadn’t shared the engagement on social media so unless you or Trent had let someone know directly they wouldn’t know.

“Yeah? She here?” Jadon asked as he leaned onto the bar top. Trent picked his head up to nod towards your direction for him to follow with his eyes.

“Yeah, mate. Her sister as well.” Trent confirmed. Jadon licked his lips gazing through the room. He eyed Winnie immediately. Trent's eyes narrowed, a little surprised by Jadon's response to looking at her then the light bulb in his head went off. He thought maybe this was his chance to finally give Winnie someone from his roster.

“You should come say hello.” Trent told him presenting the offer with feigned innocence. As if Jadon wanted to come say hi to you, which you're sure he would’ve done, he was lovely, but the hot single girl next to you was definitely a driving force. “You and your boys should come out with us tonight.” Jadon nodded as Trent picked up the two drinks for you and Winnie.

“Sound. Girls coming with you all night?” He asked and Trent just laughed squeezing his shoulder dragging him off the bar. Jadon and him caught up as they made their way through a crowded room.

“He’s cuteeeee” Winnie sang in your ear watching Trent talk to Jadon at the bar.

“I don't really know anything about him. They were friends before we met and then he moved so I don't know much.” You told her the honest truth. You didn’t know much about Jadon and the things you did know were mostly football related. ‘Good dribbler’ and ‘techy’ didn’t really help you get to know someone any better.

“I’d be interested in finding out more” Winnie cooed, squeezing your arm with a big smile on her face. You weren’t really watching her, you were watching Trent. The sun barrelled into the room through the glass windows and he just looked unreal. His high cheek bones catching the sun, his dark brown eyes lit with honey hues, you could see his annoyingly long eyelashes you were envious of from all the way where you were standing. Just the way he moved and walked was so hot. He unintentionally was driving you insane.

“He looks so fucking good, Win.” You moaned to her and he did… he looked sexy. She laughed a little at your desperation for someone you were engaged to. It’s not like you had to build the courage to go up and get his number, you had it already, you had his baby too. “Don’t make this something it’s not but I feel like he thinks of me as a mum now” you confided in Winnie.

“You are a mum.” She laughed so you rolled your eyes at her. You didn’t mean literally. It’s not like you weren’t having sex or either of you weren’t enjoying it. Trust you were. Sex was just in your bed more often than not now because you had a child so you werent exactly going to fuck on the kitchen counter. You had to be quiet, there were boundaries you needed to abide by. Seeing him right now though made you want to just pull him into a room and rip off all his clothes. You looked at Winnie as you spoke trying to make sure you articulated this correctly because you weren’t unhappy. You were horny.

“I kinda just wish he would blow my back out.” Your sentence was cut off when Trent came and interrupted. Winnie popped her lips into a smile hoping he didn’t catch the last bit of your sentence.

“Baby, you remember Sanch right?” Trent asked you. You smiled and turned towards Jadon. You gave him a hug,

“Yeah, yeah course” You leaned back adjusting the way the waistband of your skirt sat on your hips suddenly feeling very hot under Trent’s gaze. “You alright?” You asked, trying to act normal but you were distracted. You made quick work of the conversation and he was as nice and polite as you remembered but funny as well. You forgot. You forgot to tell Winnie he was funny. He asked about Teddy telling you you looked incredible for having a one year old. You rolled your eyes not believing him but you moved on. Trent began to introduce him to Winnie when Jadon turned his head towards her in acknowledgment with a smug look.

“Winnie.” She reintroduced herself talking over Trent. Winnie said her name in the most uppity way she could, sticking out her hand to shake his. Trent slid his hand around your waist and squeezed your side. You shook your head because you could see exactly what was unfolding in front of you. Trent proud of his handiwork although he really didn’t do anything, Winnie eager to finally meet a friend of Trent’s she might actually hit it off with, and Jadon naively or maybe willingly stepping into your sister’s trap. Winnie loved to be the object of desire, to be saved, honestly,so did you it was fun playing the damsel in distress sometimes. But Winnie wanted it to be done in a way that was nasty. Defile me type vibes so when she met a guy she was interested in she started her introduction with her nose high up in the air so when she was eventually on her knees for them it would be all the more thrilling. They’d feel like they conquered her, broke her down into this. Really, the whole time she was playing them, getting exactly what she wanted.

You watched the race qualifiers and then went out to dinner for George's birthday round one. This was a little more relaxed then what you had planned for tomorrow so Jadon and two of his friends joined in. There was a lot of tension at your end of the table. Winnie and you drinking and being probably too handsy. It was a steamy dinner but everyone made it out of the restaurant and to the club clothed. It was a hot club. Like you were actually warm. You were in a roped off area so you had space but the enclosed place filled with a lot of people still made you skin slightly slick. It smelt like perfume and sweat in a deliciously sweet way. It was loud in there too. You could feel the bass of the music in your chest. The house edits of Top 40 songs were blurring into one tedious beat. You watched on inconspicuously as Jadon and Winnie ‘talked.’ That's at least what she said she was going to do when she got up.

“I’ve heard good things about your sister from Trent” Jadon spoke in Winnie’s ear.

“Oh yeah?” Winnie asked in response, a little confused where he was going but also not at all. It wouldn’t exactly the first time someone spoke to Winnie about you on a night out. People would always ask for threesomes, get with her to get with you, all sorts of bullshit so she kind of rolled her eyes at it but listened anyway. She felt disappointed and all over the place because he seemed so nice so she didn’t think he’d try to mess about with you, especially considering the ring on your finger but she was drunk and so was he so what did she really know.

“Yeah. Heard she’s a good girl. Are you?” He whispered and his words dripped like honey. It sent a shiver down her spine. Winnie internally was screaming. This. This is what she wanted. The way his hand caressed her hip, slipping his thumb into the waistband of her trousers, his accent, the whole thing had her reeling in excitement but she presented cool and calm.

“Mmm no.” she replied after a minute of pretending to think. She pressed her drink to her lips hiding her curling lips.

“No?” Jadon questioned her with a smirk. It was so much fun riling a boy up and if he was hot, even better. Her body was on fire under his touch. “I think I can make you a good girl f’me though. What’d you think?” He kept talking. His words had her in a trance, his hands on her body had her possessed.

“Would you rather I be good or bad for you when you take me home?” She whispered, dropping her drink to her side to hold it by her side. Jadon bit his lip and narrowed his gaze getting more and more entangled with her. Winnie was a lot braver than you. Her forwardness being one of the ways in which she was but it also got her exactly what she wanted.

You laughed imagining what their conversation was like. Their words and accents colliding making the perfect mess. Winnie’s valley girl american slang trying to converse with Jadon from South London was just jokes but you couldn't imagine the direction their conversation had taken or maybe you could but in anycase watching two people meet for the first time, touch for the first time, make advances, Jadon's hand creeping up Winnie’s bare waist had you tense.

“Hi” you giggled, turning around to look at Trent. You were sitting on his lap at a small table, you didn’t need to greet him but you wanted his attention. Winnie had gotten what she wanted and you were envious. You had been wanting Trent.

“You okay? You want to go?” You hated that he jumped there first. You wanted his hand to slide up on your leg not take you home. The fizz that was sparkling away in you went flat. You were focused on his dominant hand holding his drink resting on top of your thigh, the wet bottom of the glass running down the inside of your leg some. You’d not paid any attention to the one he had just managed to sneak under your skirt. He grazed over your covered core with his fingers. You bit your lip knowing better than to make a noise or react. You suddenly lost your breath and any thought in your head. He readjusted in his seat underneath you purposefully pushing his hips up into you. The club was loud but you had to still fight back a moan. “You still want your back blown out?” He whispered into your ear. The warmth of his breath on the shell of your ear and the feeling of his soft lips grazing over it had you weak. You stiffened. You were mortified he had heard you earlier today and then suddenly not at all, excitement washing over you. You leaned your head back onto him. You hummed a confirmation interested in what he had to offer seeing as he knew now.

“You’re gonna do what I say, alright?” He continued whispering to you in a low sexy tone quietly just for you to hear. You hummed once more feeling his fingers press tight circles over your covered clit in the most discreet way. You stared straight ahead looking at nothing in particular trying to be nonchalant. “Go to the bathroom and start…” That's all he said.

“What…?” You genuinely didn’t understand. He gripped you a little tighter with his other hand signaling to you he was serious about what he was saying.

“I want you to go to the bathroom and I want you to play with this pussy till I get there.” His words made your whole body feel numb. His commanding tone had you dizzy. What was going on?

“Are you serious?” You attempted a whispered back, completely shocked. The feeling of his lips peeling and pressing onto the skin of your neck was hypnotizing. You could barely focus but you heard him hum the same way you had before confirming that it was exactly what he wanted. Clearly Trent had been feeling the same way you had and was taking matters into his own hands. That said, you were out with friends, you were parents now, you were in public. Was he really asking for you to go do this? That wasn’t really the crazy part though it was the fact that you were actually going to go and do it for him.

“Video it.” He continued to instruct you. “Send it to me and I’ll decide if you’re ready for me to come and blow your back out” His words alone had you dripping. Your jaw slacked a little. Honestly, you’d done far too many inappropriate things with him but every. single. time. it just made your heart race and your pussy pulse. He was so hot and you were going to do whatever he wanted you to. You stood and he helped you up but practically pushed you off eager for you to get going. You didn’t turn back to look at him. You ‘dropped’ your phone instead and bent over to pick it up. You leaned over putting yourself on full display to him. The black thong you had on not covering any of you. Your ass in his face. You stood back up and adjusted your skirt but flashed him a little bit more of your asscheek one more time. He shut his eyes softly, shaking his head with a smirk on his face. He loved this. He loved you. You peered over your shoulder to make sure he was watching and walked off.

When Trent got a text from you he'd never been more excited. He could feel all the blood rush to his cock. The second you sat down on his lap at the club he was trying not to think about fucking you but right now it was the only thing he wanted to think about. He leaned back in his seat so only he could see his screen. There you were sitting on the counter of the restroom, legs open for him teasing your clit. You were wet. You had a hard time getting started but the idea of him watching in front of everyone and having to behave until he got to you was setting your desire for him a blaze. You wanted him to come and blow your back out badly.

“Just gonna go make sure she’s okay.” Trent tapped George on the knee letting him know. It was more of a ‘don’t look for me’ type thing then a ‘I’m worried’ type of notification though.

“Yeah mate, all good.” George answered him watching him puff out a bit of air gearing up for you. George smirked. Obviously, you were just fine. Trent knocked on the door and you hopped off the sink completely giddy but almost dizzy. God, you had really worked yourself up. You opened the door slightly and leaned your head against it to peak out. You couldn’t not smile seeing the cheeky eager grin on his face.

‘So dirty f’me, baby. Getting off at a club” He teased you as he pulled your bottom lip with his hand. You stepped back into the room and he closed the door. His free hand reaching behind him to lock it.

“Stop!” You whined desperately. “I need you and I want you, T” You dragged your hands desperately down his chest playing with the waistband of his trousers immediately. You were like an enigma to Trent sometimes, you were so strong willed, knew exactly what you wanted and yet you were so submissive. He loved it and ate every bit of it up.

“I know you do and you didn’t tell me. Gotta tell me, pretty girl. How am I meant to know?” He said in a smug voice. He grabbed your hips and pushed you back towards the sink. He slowly moved his hands up your body grazing his thumbs over your recently reclaimed toned stomach.

“You always know when I need you, please.” You begged him. He brushed the underside of your boobs and you moaned. He smiled and looked at you with his big brown eyes. You were a goner tonight. He slid his hands back down your stomach away from your boobs, over your hips, and kneaded your ass.

“So fucking beautiful, yeah?” He hummed bringing his lips to your neck. He began to leave wet harsh kisses, nibbling at your most sensitive area. “So fucking sexy. Just for me.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling you and he was right. He continued moving his hands behind your thighs and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around the waist the way you’d been fantasizing about all day. He placed you back onto the counter but not too far back, a little towards the edge, just where he needed you.The hem of your skirt pushed up and he slid his hands up your thighs.

“So I did a good job then?” You asked eager to know his review of the video. Hi fingers ghosted over your wet pussy. You were dreaming of how good his would’ve felt as opposed to yours.

“Don’t know, what do you think? You tell me what you like more. Do you like when you do it or..” he dragged his words before he paused. You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Or what? You needed him to move faster. You could feel your wetness on the counter beneath you. He was so devastatingly beautiful staring back at your smug as can be. He knew the answer before he even started.

“Baby…” you moaned quietly and desperately. He dragged two of his fingers down the inside of your thigh then back up towards your core. It was torturously slow. He finally gave into you and ran his fingers through your pussy, your slick coating his fingers. You slid your hands up his chest and pulled at his shirt to bring him closer to you for a kiss. You couldn’t fight back a whisper though, feeling his fingers finally dip inside. He pulled away from your kiss with a smug smile.

“Where?” he asked ambiguously. You were not in a head space to be able to read his mind right now.

“Oh fuck, that feel so good!” You whined. He stopped his movements suddenly though and you wanted to cry but he looked at you with intent telling you to answer the question. You figured it out. You guessed, but you were right. “In my pocket.” you breathed heavily trying to move a little to get him to continue. He took his free hand and reached into the pocket of your skirt and pulled out the tiny black thong you’d been wearing. He just tucked it away into his own pocket and swiftly moved on. Sometimes Trent was even too cool, too calm, and too ahead of the game for you to even keep up. His fingers began to work you up again. He went slow at first curling his digits into the place you loved for them to be and then up to a blistering pace. You were soaking wet, in a more conscious state you probably would've been concerned you would slide off the counter top but at the moment Trent’s frame pushing you back and his legs keeping yours open was all you needed You felt that familiar knot in your stomach form. You shut your eyes overwhelmed by the pleasure. The knot snapped swiftly before you could tell him. Your pussy pulsating around his fingers. You released and a sensation of pleasure washed over you.

“What'd you think, baby? Who makes you feel better, huh?” Trent loved being praised and praise he deserved. You had a hard time coming back down to earth. Your chest was heaving, you could feel a bead of sweat run down your neck.

“You, baby. Oh my god, definitely you.” You giggled out of breath leaning back against the bathroom mirror with a tired smile.

“What I thought. I always take care of you don’t I?” You nodded as he dragged his thumb over your core again gathering your slick between your legs before he parted your lips a little more to swipe over your clit slowly. His touch sent a shiver up your spine, pushing out a soft moan. “Just gotta ask me, baby then you wouldn’t ever have to touch yourself like that. Hmm? Tell me what you were thinking about touching yourself?” You gripped his strong biceps urgently as he started to move his finger faster and harder on your clit.

“You, T.” you whined. He smirked back at you proud. Your pussy began to throb oversensative and desperate for more of him. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum, baby. Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” Your jaw slacked as you convulsed. You felt like you were going to pass out.

“There we go, baby. Think you’re ready now.” He pulled you off the counter onto wobbly legs but he held you steady. “You still want me?” He asked gently, you nodded still coming down from your orgasms, so he turned you to face the mirror tenderly. You bent over for him. He didn’t need to ask. This is all you’d been thinking about. He traced your spine with one of his fingers. Just his touch made goosebumps rise on your skin. His hand reached around you and wrapped around your throat which made you gasp. He pulled you back to him so you were standing against him. You could see yourself pressed against him in his strong hold in the mirror.

“Trent…” you whimpered with barely any air left in your throat. The lack of oxygen made you felt dizzy and you loved it. His lips all over your neck. You pushed your ass back into him. He smacked your ass cheek and you let out a delicious moan for him. You jolted further forward on the countertop arching your back more. He pumped himself a few times before he pressed his tip leaking pre cum against your clit. He was slow despite your eagerness. He grazed over your hole teasingly before he sank in.

“This what you wanted, beautiful?” He asked as he began to move in and out of you. Your brain was in a complete fog. You had no other thoughts other than the ones about him. You moaned yes what felt like a thousand times loving every second his cock filled you. You felt one of his hands let go of your hip. Trent reached into his pocket and pulled out your panties. He seamlessly grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it behind your back and then the other. You rested your cheek against the mirror. It was the only way you could support yourself as he continued to thrust into you. He wrapped and twisted the lace material tight around your wrists and held them back against your hot skin. Your mouth parted, overwhelmed by what he was doing. Your eyes rolled back when he began to hit deeper inside of you with new leverage. “C’mon, answer pretty girl ” he asked harshly. You were too fucked out to care but it was probably a good thing the music was so loud in the club so no one could hear the lewd noises you and your skin slapping was creating. You could barely answer him, too focused on the feeling of him. He lifted one of his legs to your side to fuck you from a different angle and your mind went blank. His cock hit your gspot in a way that had you crumbling all over again. He slowed and pulled out of you. He turned you around and lifted you up back onto the counter in one swift sequence.

“That was so good. More, baby” you requested. “Want your cum inside of me.” Your eyelids felt so heavy. You smiled at him incredibly turned on. He looked at you and thought he could cum just from the beautiful lustful expression on your face. You pulled him into you and kissed down his neck. You sucked on his sensitive skin disregarding your better judgment. You didn't leave marks on him too often and definitely not in places people could see during the season. He didn’t stop you though. You bit into his skin desperately leaving behind markings. Souvenirs he could take home from your trip. He let out a breathy moan before he couldn’t wait any longer, he plunged back into you. He stretched your soaked pussy out so perfectly. He thrusted in and out of you again and again. You were in your own world. Nothing else but each other existed right now and it felt like that. You were completely intoxicated by the other. The way you sounded, the way you felt, the way you looked, it was hard to last any longer than you had without cumming again.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned desperately, feeling his hand drop in between your bodies and begin circling your throbbing clit. Your whines now matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your lips stuck parted as he fucked you into another orgasm.

“Cum f’me, baby.” he grunted just about to reach his own high. He kissed your shoulder and bit down when he felt you clench around his cock. “Be a good girl f’me. Cum.” He demanded as you made a mess on his length. You clung to him tighter then before wrapping your legs around him so he couldn’t pull away. Your vision went a little blurry when you felt his warm cum pumped deep inside of you. His hands pulled your trembling slightly sweaty body in the softest way completely flush against him. He kissed you everywhere he could. “Did such a good job baby…” He whispered out of breath as he stilled before pulling out. His fingers pushed his cum back into your sensitive pussy.

“I love you so much, T.” you smiled shyly looking up at him. You grabbed his hand with yours and brought it to your lips. You gently kissed over his knuckles. He laughed seeing your thong still wrapped around your one wrist loosely now.

“I love you. So good f’me.” He cooed. You kissed his lips before he stopped you from trying to unravel your panties. He took them from you and pocketed them again. “We’ll use them later… promise.” he winked at you and your heart faltered with excitement as he helped you off the sink with a giggle.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 15 xx

[arlakos]

The High Road: A counterpoint to one of the most commonly used Salt Takes for Adrien.

This isn't really a salt fic idea, but since we are on the topic of salt on this blog, I'd like to take a moment to talk about a scene that has largely been used out of contex ever since Chameleon came out, and that is the infamous high road scene that has since been used to death for every Adrien salt story

For those who are unaware of this scene (or perhaps are unfamiliar with the canon version), in the episode Chameleon of Sesason 3, Marinette is about to go expose a plot hole in one of Lila's many fabrications, only for Adrien to stop her by stating that it won't change Lila for the better (Full Transcript Below). Keep this transcript in mind because I'll be referencing it a lot.

Now, this scene doesn't seem like something to be mad over, but the the whole episode of Chameleon has twisted a lot of people's perceptions of certain characters for the worse. This particular scene just happens to be one that changed people's pereceptions of Adrien.

However, I think its actually somewhat unjustified. I feel that in many ways, Chameleon as a whole has been misrepresented for what changes it has actually brought into the show, and I feel that it's easy to take a lot of moments in the episode out of context, especially when emotions come into play. The episode transcript actually happened to be leaked before it was supposed to be relased, so a lot of people already made up their minds about what this episode was about before it was released. It's easy to hate on this episode when you're friends in discord have watched it before you and have started to shout buzzwords such as "The class betrayed Marinette!" or "Adrien is a monster!", etc etc. I would know, since that was how I found out about the episode in the first place, and watching it for the first time didn't change my initial perceptions.

Today, I would like to take a moment to take the infamous high road scene and talk about what it meant for the salty portion of the fandom, before taking a metaphoically sledgehammer and slamming some misconceptions about Adrien from the perspective of salty people. Sure, they're other scenes that could be looked at, but since every salt fic tends to reuse this plot point, I feel it deserves its own deconstruction.

1. The High-Road scene is proof that Adrien is an asshole!

Now this statement is a bit of a buzzword since the actual reasons for people disliking this scene can vary, but to be fair, the reaction to this scene is also more nuanced as well.

In truth, a lot of people already had issues with Adrien/Chat Noir as a whole (for reasons that I won't elaborate here since it would be worth its own post), but this scene seemed to open the floodgates with hatred for our secondary protagonist out of his percieved inaction, since many people now had dislike for Adrien, while those who hated him prior were more than happy to provide fuel for the fire. After the episode was released, these ideas began to merge together, resulting in this belief that Adrien has always been an asshole, and that the Chameleon scene was simply the final straw, and that if the show was written by a good writer (read: anyone who hated the episode), Marinette would actually ditch his ass!

Now, its debatable on whether Adrien had writing issues prior to this point, but I feel that using this scene to justify hatred for him is outright slander for several reasons:

First of all, Adrien never suggested for Marinette to take the high road if we are being logistical about it. He only complimented her on that regard, telling her she did a good job for "taking the high road", and that was after he sat next to her to show he was by her side.

His actual message to Marinette was that it wasn't worth it to try expose Lila at that moment (and to be fair, it wouldn't have worked, more on that later though) because all it would do is make her double down on her behavior. Plus, trying to expose her in front of everyone would just hurt Lila more than help everyone else, which is, if anything, not untrue.

Overall, the advice Adrien gave to Marinette was not meant out of a desire to hurt anyone (least of all Marinette), but was out of a genuine desire to help resolve a situation and prevent Marinette from doing something that would not have helped the situation. Even if he does have other character flaws, this situation was by no means a reason to villainize him for it.

2. Adrien prefers Lila over Marinette, thats why he told the latter to take the high road!

Again, another idea that is found in fanfics, but is ultimately untrue in canon.

While Adrien doesn't believe Lila at all from the beginning of the episode, he isn't exactly just letting Lila's actions slide either; his stance comes from that of believing that Lila being decietful will do nothing to actually help her make friends. However, rather than confronting her angrily like Marinette does, Adrien instead tries to be friendly with her and try offer Lila some advice to try and change, albiet to no avail.

Now, some people might argue that Lila doesn't deserve kindness considering her threat to Marinette just moments ago, but it should be also stated that Adrien knows NOTHING about this: as far as he's aware, Lila is a transfer student looking to make friends, but has a wrong way of doing so (so in a way, she's not unlike him, from his POV at least), so he's just trying to help her, rather than attempt to force her out in the open.

(Quick tibit though, if Adrien knew what Lila did to Marinette, he would probably be more inclined to help her and protect his friends, given that he was willing to 'sacrifice' himself to get Marinette un-expelled in the Ladybug episode)

By the end of the episode Adrien is obviously dissapointed in Lila continuing to act the way that she is, but ultimately refuses to sink to Lila's level in order to teach her a lesson. As childish as it is (and it should be considering Adrien is a TEEN) Adrien believes that Lila's deceptions will ultimately come back to bite her (Adrien even tells her this himself, see below.), but trying to expose her in front of everyone else will do more harm to Lila than it will help others, hence his methods of speaking to her privately about it.

3. Adrien's reasoning is horrible and stupid! He deserves to pay for it!

This reasoning is the one I find the most dissapointing, partly because it inspired The Karma of Lies story (Written by CartoonAddict564), and also because while Adrien's reasoning can come off as naive, it is by no means stupid, nor should he have to suffer for having a different viewpoint for Marinette. But to understand, you need to think of Adrien in terms of his character.

Adrien is not just a celebrity, but also a child with a very controlling father, who pretty much controls and manages his day to day life with the help of his secretary. As a result of his popularity, Adrien has to be very careful with what he says or does, not only because it would reflect poorly onto his father's company, but it would also force his father to step in. As the Collector has shown, Adrien being able to even LEAVE the home is something that could easily be revoked at any time, and being Cat Noir has only loosened the bars on his cell, not remove them completely. Adrien has very little to gain by confronting Lila, but everything to lose, which is in direct contrast to Marinette having everything to lose by letting Lila walk by.

So in the face of all that, plus the situation he is in now, why would he not act passive and provide advice to try mitigate conflict rather than escalate it?

Now whether or not that should be seen as selfish is debatable, it's ultimately not out of character for Adrien to try and provide more passive options to deal with Lila rather than go for the most violent option. You could even argue that Adrien's actions are also out kindness to Marinette, since (in his eyes at least) it could get her in trouble with her own parents if they try and confront Lila violently.

At worst, Adrien's passiveness is a result of his controlled upbringing. At best? He was just trying to help without causing conflict.

4. Adrien shouldn't have stopped Marinette from confronting Lila!

.... im sorry to say this, but yes he absolutely should have.

Marinette was about to confront Lila over which ear her supposed tinnitus was in. Aside from the fact trying to expose her on this alone would not have worked, this would have just resulted in Marinette becoming more estranged from her classmates in this situation. If Marinette should have confronted Lila about her lying, this was DEFINTELY NOT the way to do it.

This isn't to say that Marinette could not have confronted Lila, but this moment simply was not it. There were better alternatives to Marinette that she could employ in the future had she thought of doing so (such as coming to Alya as Ladybug and revealing that her frienship with Lila is a lie), or carrying a voice recorder to record any threats made by Lila.

As uncathartic as the situation was, from a writing standpoint Adrien's inteference ultimately helped Marinette keep her friendships in the long run, while avoiding making a fool of herself with a battle she simply could not win.

5. It's Adrien's fault that Marinette didn't go after Lila! Marinette would have been better if she brushed him off!

This sounds crazy, but this is a genuine point that people seem to mention when it comes to their reasons for writing salt fics. Even if Adrien's attempts to dissaude Marinette were out of concern rather than malice, people still condemn Adrien for pushing Marinette off that path of going after Lila. In their eyes, Marinette didn't get her immediate revenge for what Lila did, and Lila herself was allowed to continue manipulating the class. All of this becomes Adrien's fault by virtue of being the one to deny this from happening, denying the fans their catharsis.

However, the question I ask it that for all the blame they give to Adrien in this situation ... how come nobody blames Marinette at all for the same thing?

See, despite people argue that Adrien manipulated Marinette into not going after Lila, Marinette isn't necassarily gullible or stupid. If Marinette really thought that Lila was a threat worth going after, she could and would have easily found a way to take Lila down and get her removed, with or without Adrien's support (given she made a similar plan in season 5 for when Gabriel tried to get the Kwamis to lead him to Marinette). She wouldn't even need a miraculous to do so given she can make plans without transforming, and most of Lila's lies aren't particularly smart, they just can't be immediately discredited without proof.

And it can't even be argued that Adrien took advantage of Marinette's love for him (whether intentionally or not). Marinette has shown that even though she does value her friends, she doesn't need to rely on the validation of others to do whatever she feels is right (given that she argued against Alya and others in Risk when it came to their belief that Adrien was fine, even though she was partly amped by an akuma at the time). And if Marinette did think that Adrien was wrong, she probably wouldn't have continued to crush on him anymore.

Also its kind of lowkey sexist? Like, Marinette can probably make her own decisions, she doesn't need someone to dictate her own actions given she's the leader of a superhero team?

Ultimately, Marinette made the choice not to go after Lila. Perhaps she thought that Lila wasn't worth it. Maybe she thought that taking down Lila wasn't worth the time and stress. Maybe she ended up agreeing with Adrien and thought that Lila would expose herself sooner rather than later with her own deceptions. Either way, Marinette can make her own decisions, and she ultimately thought that going after Lila was not a good idea, for whatever reason.

Now, some people might be upset about this idea that Marinette is to blame, but people can't just play the blame game and expect their target to lose. It would honestly be preferrable to say that both Adrien and Marinette made a decision that (for better or worse) thought was good at the time and that neither should be judged for it, but the fandom doesn't seem to care for that because that means their salt fics would be invalid.

Thus, since people want to blame Adrien for apparently "manipulating" Marinette, Marinette should get equal blame for allowing herself to be manipulated by Adrien. Sucks to hear it, but since nobody calls out Marinette on her shit, I might as well be the first. Sorry if it triggers you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

So ... what does this all mean?

It means that my boy Adrien is innocent.

He meant no harm by suggesting that Marinette not go after Lila, nor did he do it because he took Lila's side over Marinette's. At best, he was unaware of how evil Lila was and thought she was misunderstood, and at worse he defaulted to using the same ideas that he uses to protect what limited freedoms he had, and offered it to Marinette as geunine advice. Marinette isn't a pushover either, meaning that not only did she also think what Adrien said was a good idea, but the fandom is inadvertently being sexist by implying she can't be independent and can't make her own decisions, given that she's shown her own independence multiple times. At best, both characters made a dumb decision that they thought was good, but neither can be soley responsible.

Ultimately, Chameleon was an episode that gave Adrien (and whoever else was targeted) a bad rep due to the kneejerk reaction everyone had to the episode due to Lila's lies, myself included. In truth, nothing of what happened in the episode had any actual long term effects, since Marinette still kept her friends and Lila didn't end up playing any major role for nearly 2 seasons, at least until season 5 finally got rid of 'Lila' and set up 'Cerise' to be the new Butterfly villain.

It took me a long while to put this belief into words, and it may be 2 seasons too late, but at least I can upload it now knowing that this truth could possible be shared with the world. Maybe it will stop the excess of salt fics in the world, and allow for new salt free works to be made. Who knows?

Anyways, I hope you found this to be an interesting read as I had writing it!

[yorshie]

I just read almost all your turtle relates work and i loved It! I was wondering how the brothers worked out having a poly relationship with the reader, the dynamics, what they think/feel about It, etc.

It can be headcanons or one shot, don't really mind, I just adore your work with them 👀

Thank you so much for your amazing storys💫

Thank you for the ask Nonnie!

I want to precede this by saying I don’t really have serious thoughts about how a poly relationship with all four brothers would work. I just started writing without worrying about the logistics of it, but I do keep some things in mind so it doesn’t turn into a Marty Robbin’s song.

So I went with head canon style observations and then added a little blurb that just hasn’t really fit in any one-shots I’ve written so far, but seemed appropriate in this context. I hope you enjoy!

Bayverse turtles x GNreader

Jealousy goes out the window. Who she? Oh, we don't know her. Brotherly squabbles still exist, but you are never the direct reason for the issues.

This relationship was definitely a slow burn, friends to lovers, where the lines blurred as love grew.

Mikey was probably the first one to start testing the friendship/boyfriend lines. His brand of flirting and physical affection makes him a prime suspect to see how far he could push and what exactly you would be comfortable with.

Donnie seems like the next likely culprit, certainly if he saw how openly you gave affection to his brother he might realize "hey, I'd like some of that", and proceed to tell you what he wanted next time the two of you were alone.

With the older brothers, it would definitely be Leo that has the next epiphany. With his love of listening, he'd probably get you talking and then slowly start scooting closer and closer, on the look out for any signals that you were happy with just two turtles' attentions. Finding none, you'd end up with a cuddle buddy anytime the two of you have a talk.

And Raph? he'd be the last, and he'd just show up with the others on one of the planned hangouts, hesitant and unsure but following their lead. Better not mention the red elephant in the room, or else he's likely to just turn into a roly-poly and scuttle away in fear of overstepping and ruining whatever friendship the two of you have and the luck his brothers stumbled onto. Just keep acting like everything is normal, and he'll bloom.

there's no hierarchy, other than brotherly ones that existed long before you. If someone wants/needs more time/affection, they simply ask for it. If you need time alone, you might have to lock a door or hang up a sign so everyone gets the message it doesn't turn into a revolving door of turtles checking in on you.

Date nights can be with one, two, or all four turtles. Only once was there a date planned while Donnie was shell deep in a project, and it was the one date that everyone agrees was a failure. After that debacle, Donnie gets dragged out of his proverbial dungeon anytime a 'four turtle date' is planned. While the brothers do plan one-on-one time with you, if you guys are hanging out in the lair chances are everyone will gravitate towards the commotion.

Sleep overs are probably the only time things can get complicated. You of course have the option to hole up in the guest room, and there's always sleep piles in the living area that happen often enough that Donnie went ahead and ordered extra mattresses to avoid the fuss of everyone having to drag half their bedrooms out into the Lair proper over and over, but sometimes you just want one snuggle buddy and you end up in one brother's room. It's the one time they'll get territorial over you, and it's an unspoken rule that if someone follows their nose to find you and ends up outside a personal space, they turn around and seek you out another time. It's the one rule not even Michelangelo tries to bend.

Turtle Pile

You woke up in the odd hours of the morning, the need to pee cutting into the bone deep contentment that had settled under your skin. You shifted, slowly, taking stock of where you were and how much wiggle room your turtles had allowed.

The lip of Raph's shell was a solid barrier over the edge of your hip and the line of one leg. He liked to have you up against him while he slept, the better to shield you in case something went wrong. He was laying the opposite direction of you, shoulder to shoulder with Leo, who had half draped himself over your lap and legs.

Leo's head was still tilted into the soft meat of your thigh where he'd been lulled to sleep mid conversation, breath slow and even, muscles twitching even in sleep.

Mikey had taken up your other side, arm snaked over your waist and leg hitched over what you were sure was suppose to be your closest hip, except Leo's shell was in the way. His face was propped close to yours, soft snores adorable, not quite as elevated as you were, and with no pillow to really protect his neck from Donnie's shell.

You were using the tallest brother as a pillow, as he laid out on his plastron, pining his legs and using the slope of his carapace as a make shift recliner. The reason you'd given him was to keep you safe in case someone shifted too much in their sleep, but the true intent was to keep him from sneaking back into his lab and half finished projects.

It was comfortable, safe, and warm, but the pressure in your bladder pinged again. With a soft sigh, you removed Mikey's arm and stretched, slinking up Donnie's shell to slide your legs out from under Leo.

His grip tightened, one sleepy blue eye opening to check on you. "What's wrong?"

It as more a rumble than words, but you understood , and whispered back, "nothing's wrong, just have to go pee."

He hummed, the sound low and familiar, and released you. "Climb back this way, you'll wake Dee."

"I've been awake, "came Donnie's clear, quiet voice.

You rolled your eyes, bracing a hand on one of the massive scutes on Raph's carapace and stepping over Leo's shoulder. "Make sure my pillow doesn't run off, Blue."

Leo gave a bare huff of sound, and you heard Donnie give an exasperated click in the back of his throat as Leo grabbed his brother's legs. "Yes, ma'am."

"Could be doing so much work right now." You heard Donnie grumble as you finished breaking free.

Your bare feet padded across the cool floor to the bathroom, soft steps not loud enough to mask Raph's equally irritated grouse:

"You'll have all weekend to work, nerd, now shuttup and sleep."

The door was just sliding shut when you heard Mikey's voice, the loud whisper practically a yell in the otherwise quiet space:

"Hey, where'd angel go?"

Followed by three sighs of various annoyance at the loud noise.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

...It is possible I am about to bring the Bridgerton fandom down on my HEAD, but I have an opinion and I am sharing it.

The show hasn't set writer Colin up sufficiently well for me to believe that he is going to catch professional jealousy about Pen being Lady Whistledown.

Yes, we got the journal reading scene, and it is well established that Colin is a prolific letter writer. I am also aware that the fandom is happy to headcanon Colin being as prolific a letter writer as he is made out to be is setup that he is a prose writer. But um.

Contextually, when all you have to communicate with people is letters? Like, that doesn't necessarily HAVE to equate to also being an excellent prose writer. For one, when you're writing a PRIVATE letter to someone you like (such as a friend or family member) your audience is extremely specific, so you don't have to tailor to a general audience. The skills are different. I imagine the letters being a combination of text messages and a Tumblr blog and a Facebook profile before Facebook became functionally unusable. It's a means of connecting and sharing experiences, and given how the Bridgertons react to the letters and their content, it's basically an amateur travel highlight blog. Which is why the letters and journals worked TOGETHER in the book to establish Colin as a good travel writer, because he had the letter format and the longform format. They complemented each other and there was more emphasis on Colin actually engaging with his journals in the book. Like, he was talking about editing them and refining the prose and really engaging with the text. That piece is missing in the show for me. He doesn't seem to really give a damn about the writing unless the plot needs him to in a given moment.

We got two full seasons of Penelope building her private life around Whistledown and finding time to write and struggling with writing and working out the logistics of getting published and protecting her identity. Even without the time jump in the book that gives her extra experience as a runaway successful gossip columnist, I believe that writing is important to Penelope in the show.

Colin spent season 1 being a naive white knight, without so much as a hint that our boy is a writer. But maybe he discovered writing on his travels. Ok, fair enough, but then why didn't they have him working on writing in season 2 when he was feeling directionless and purposeless? Would that not have been a direction and a purpose? He just...kinda shows back up in season 3 and there's a journal for one scene and we're expected to believe that he is suddenly as avid a writer as Lady Whistledown? Sorry, no, I'm not sold. We don't even get what might have been an interesting internal conflict where his fuckboying around the ton in a desperate attempt for validation is CONFLICTING with some kind of internal validation that writing brings him. Like...the foundation and the groundwork and the moments that Penelope gets to establish writing as something important to her just are not there for Colin.

I honestly think I'd have preferred them to drop writer Colin altogether (I'd have been disappointed as hell) rather than try to token in the writing with like...the letters and the singular journal scene. Writer relationships can get MESSY and DRAMATIC and...I would have loved that. But the show just hasn't spent enough time there for me. I'm still here for the Polin relationship, but I wish we'd gotten the love and care in setting up writer Colin (or even a fraction of it) that Penelope got.

[astralartefact]

in another branch, on a less lonely moon... are nier reincarnation ocs even allowed?

yH ("Waiha") - Sentinel Surety Character Story

In another branch, on a less lonely moon... He is one of the 7 to 8 YoRHa models stationed at the moon base. Tasked to monitor, document and organize weapon stories he finds himself reading countless accounts of humanity's folly - much to the dismay of the easygoing Pod assigned to him who can't bring himself to scold him for taking far too much time.

Ashen Confidence - Light Staff Weapon Story

The Pod I work with behaves in weird ways. He keeps making references to a non-existent girlfriend - that I should hide her when he comes into the room. Why would he say that?

Working through archival data I understand it to be a customary greeting male authority figures use towards younger male relatives. For some reason they seemed to hold great pride in the relationships of their young.

I asked Pod who he thought my girlfriend was and he just replied he was joking and that I shouldn't take what he says so seriously. Another time I told him that I could just as well have a boyfriend but he ignored hearing me say that.

>>Analysis: The requested parts for Unit 16H's repair are once again missing from today's shipment. >>Hypothesis: He will likely find him before we can revive him. >>Proposal: I should write Logistics a strongly worded message.

xH ("Exha") - Sentinel Shepherd Character Story

In another branch, on a less lonely moon... She is one of the 7 to 8 YoRHa models stationed at the moon base. Beloved by all of her colleagues she tries her best to fill their days with smiles. Though nobody has ever seen her work the disorganized Pod assigned to her has yet to scold her for any sort of laziness. In her private quarters, away from the other androids, she harbors secrets.

Bebi

An experimental canine droid living in xH's room. His baby face makes him look very sweet, but he will stop at nothing to protect his Mama.

Ashen Alliance - Light 2H Sword Weapon Story

"She has brought over some cookies again." "I wonder how she has the time to bake for everybody. I can't even stop and eat between work units without Pod telling me off."

"Last month's report says she has the most work hours." "I don't believe it. I never see her work. If it wasn't for this Pod I would follow her around all day to know how she does it."

"She told someone off for trying to come into her room." "I tell you, she's hiding something in there. I'm pretty sure her room is bigger than ours, too. I bet she works with the Pods behind our backs."

>>Analysis: Deletion of Memory Data successful. I will bring these two to maintenance. >>Inquiry: Will you be okay, dearie? This is the 3rd time you are the reason they found out.

Notes

I called them Shepherd and Surety because of JESUS CHRIST (no but really, if the cage contains "humanity's sin" then 10H died for our sins - she IS the savior)

I gave them pieces of Hina and Yuzuki's Mechanical Outfits, yH has Hina's sleeves and xH has Yuzu's belts and cape

xH's is also to some degree inspired by the YoRHa Girls 1.1a uniforms

I started these before 10H came out, so that's one of the reasons they barely resemble her uniform

Their weapons are Ashen versions of the respective Virtuous/Cruel weapons. I wanted to call them after the things Papa and Dark Mama 'provided to' Hina and Yuzuki (Confidence // Community -> Alliance)

I haven't decided yet if: a) Bebi is Babe's true form and he can't talk irl (=the Babe in the cage is actually just a dog talking) or b) Bebi is Babe's corporeal form and the dog can talk (=his voice is really deep) both are equally as hilarious to me

Initially I wanted to give them all the costumes 10H gets, but then EoS happened and now... welp

I don't really have a hang of xH's hair yet, it doesn't really look like how I wanted it to look and it's even harder to figure it out while also trying to evoke an existing art style - but I will keep trying!!!

Rendering is so fcking hard. How do people do it. I start and my brain just stops thinking and just does whatever and what I'm left with is a mess. I hope you still like it because I kind of don't, but without it it looks even less like the reinkane style

[bleachbleachbleach]

B3 can I just say that the machinations of your mind fascinate me so…can you pls elaborate what you mean by 1970s aerospace corruption schemes reminding you of hitshina? cuz I’m out here trying to Google it at 10 pm out of pure academic curiosity. Thanks for sharing ur thoughts with us tho!! Love how ur able to connect things in bleach with stuff I wouldn’t have thought of otherwise like genuinely <3

It's true, this blog will see Bleach in absolutely anything. It’s not even willful; everything can and WILL be Bleach. We were watching the first Fast and Furious movie last night, and ended up talking about Bleach (i.e. the sexual renaissance Hisagi experienced on first sight of Lance’s snakeprint pants).

But for the 1970s aerospace corruption schemes, I was thinking about HitsuHina first and the 1970s aerospace corruption schemes came up as a result, rather than me independently reading about 1970s aerospace corruption schemes and applying them to HitsuHina. I feel like the connection here is probably of the “…needed to be there to make sense of this…” variety, but I have also been VIBRATING INTENSELY OUT OF ENTHUSIASM FOR ALL OF THIS since yesterday, so I’ll do my best to explain my thought process!

I’ll begin by saying that I don’t think Hinamori cares about 1970s aerospace corruption schemes, nor do I think she’d be able to come up with a reason why she should, if anyone asked her. As far as she’s concerned, she is going to visit her grandmother in Junrinan to bring news of her having made 5th Division Vice Captain! And she’s taking Hitsugaya with her, which will make this the first time they have gone back to visit together.

But first Hinamori has to do her job, because part of becoming a Vice Captain is waking up at 2AM on your day off to see if you have any messages that say “we were able to handle it, actually, you don’t need to come help!” and not finding any, and so going out to deal with that before your long travel day begins.

Okay, what IS her job, though. Why does her squad need her at 2AM?

And I was like, well, I don’t want her to have to trek out to Rukongai, because that seems logistically complicated. So I decided that in this time period, the 5th has oriented itself toward the Living World! Because Aizen is supervising field studies regarding the nature of souls’ perceptions of the afterlife and how many require konsou vs. not! (Or at least, that’s his interest on paper. He has some ~other personal investments~ as well, carrying over from his presence at the Trauma Field Trip.)

So the thing Hinamori needs to deal with this morning is that a soul was recently ferried from the Living World into Soul Society and, owing to the nature of its death, is FEROCIOUSLY clutching its memories and beliefs. It is not taking its number and filtering obediently into Rukongai like it should, and the last five hours of Hinamori’s poor subordinates’ shift have been failing to convince this soul do just… do that. Now it’s her turn, because she’s the Vice Captain and this is what you do.

What is the soul clinging so hard to, then?

Or, to back up: When do I think Hinamori might’ve become the 5th VC? Byakuya and Ichimaru become captains sometime post-1960s, which leaves Ichimaru’s previous post open for some amount of time. I want this story to be before Isshin’s disappearance, which is some point around 1980. So I was like, okay, let’s say 1970s, then. Again, not that such a date means a whole lot to Hinamori, but it means a lot to me in terms of set dressing.

So I decided, in the Living World, it is 1976, and this soul died trying to visit justice upon another, whom he believed had betrayed their shared ultranationalist beliefs and incited national shame (via 1970s aerospace corruption schemes).

I decided that in Soul Society, there is an additional level of protocols for souls such as these, where their life purpose becomes so entwined with the nature of their death, so as to result in statistically more complications on the afterlife end (and, often, a higher chance of developing spiritual power). These protocols come up even more particularly when a soul’s life purpose specifically taps into identities and ideologies bigger than one person, one soul—where the visions/desires operate at the level of the (ultra)national/societal, and manifest in a death so ideologically fraught that the symbolic weight of it cannot be left behind, even in the afterlife. (This soul became a kamikaze and flew a plane into his betrayer-comrade’s house.)

--This is not something Hinamori yet has conscious awareness of, but to be dedicated to purpose in this way makes for the kind of shinigami the Gotei would like to have, if also the kind of shinigami Aizen has variable respect for.

The only parts of this situation that matter to Hinamori are the parts that help her ease this soul into his afterlife, and convince him to take his ticket and keep walking.

Then she’s on her way to Junrinan, and her weekend in the countryside with her grandmother and Hitsugaya. But the ghosts that follow her, whether she is aware of them are not, are about the ideological commitments of vice-captaincy in the Gotei; the ever-changing nature of human souls as their world changes; A I Z E N, always; and the rapid emergence of one’s identity, either in periods of dramatic economic/cultural growth or in similar periods when one’s professional growth is entangled with one’s spiritual/shikai growth (increases in talent beget promotions beget situations that inspire further evolutions). In my headcanon, Tobiume expresses as a carrion phoenix, aka condor!Tobiume.

Hinamori and Hitsugaya talk about the nature of flight, which it turns out Hitsugaya knows something about, too.

Most of that is dramaturgy, rather than things that I’m expecting to make an explicit appearance in Hinamori’s Pleasant Vacation Weekend, but THAT is how I decided yesterday that 1970s aerospace corruption schemes were “so HitsuHina.” I am very excited about it!!

[caterpillarinacave]

Hi! I'm the same Henry anon from yesterday, thank you for your answer!

If you actually want to elaborate more on your headcanons and you have time to do so, I'd love to read more! I was especially curious to know if there is a specific explanation for the headcanon about the way his sleeping habits changed? (And in the tags you mentioned angst?) And in general if you ever want to write an hour long rant I'll happily read it!

Anyway, if you've read until here, bye, and thanks for taking the time to read all of this!

Anon, I am SO sorry, this took so long to answer!!! I do try to be timely, apperances aside.

You know how you have to invite vampires inside for them to come into your house? Yeah, when it comes to talking I'm like one of those vampires. I, of course, would like to talk for hours and am ready to talk for hours,, however I will not start talking until someone invites me to. I like to wait until I have a specific request from someone, then I begin my speech.

Anyway, all that aside, someone has now asked me, so buckle up buttercups, because i am about to TALK

Just a warning, these headcannons get a little more angsty, and therefore a little more dark

Regarding your first question, dear anon, basically, disabilities are exhausting. Physically and emotionally, even if you've got it under control, most every disabled people are constantly tired. 

Everything is automatically more physically strenuous.

I, for example, slept really lightly for a really long time. In a lot of ways I still do, but once my more physical disabilities (even though I have them very well under control) showed up the actual want to sleep shoots way up. 

You can totally stay up all night working on something and be just fine, but once you lay down and your brain gets the little “yep, we get to sleep now” message, it JUMPS on it. You might've had iffy sleep schedules, but once the physical aspect is added to the mix, it’s really hard to convince your brain to get up when everything is so tired if you stir in the middle of the night. After a while your brain doesn't work anywhere near as hard to try and wake you up, and suddenly you're totally down to fall asleep on the carpet and sleep there for six and a half hours. 

Same applies for Henry. 

It's exhausting to get around as a disabled person and he's just… tired.

The weeks following the battle of idris were NOT a fun time lol. Didn't seem awful from an outside POV, but physically speaking Henry was having an awful, awful time, and emotionally Charlotte was having the go of it. 

He’s in charge of all his mobility aids. Made a lot of them, with less input from the silent brothers then youd think he would need.I mean, shadowhunters are ridiculously unhelpful (seriously, how was he the first one to come up with a wheelchair. how.) Logistically speaking, he has multiple chairs, but a favorite. 

He has just got to eat more. He’s so awful at keeping track of time, forgets to eat constantly. and is pretty much 0% body fat. He usually gets away with it, but he’s got nothing to fall back on if he’s sick or injured, which was kind of a problem after the battle of idris. 

He used to be a decent piano player, but most of what he enjoyed playing relayed on a peddle, and while he probably could, it wasn't ever worth finding a way to make the pedal work for him, so he just kinda moved on. 

This one's more canon but he had absolutely no friends. Like, at all growing up. He was lucky if they ignored him instead of actively harassing him but like??? He doesn't really care??? He’s just like, “kay yeah, whatever”, then grows up and continues to not have any shadowhunter friends but it seems like warlocks think he’s really fucking cool, so is that a win? 

You know how there's the persistent theme of Charlotte feeling guilty for the events of TID? Henry’s kind of in the same boat. Any one as pedantic as me remembers the line at the end of CA;

Going off the book, he was the one who told Mortmain about the Pyxis,  he was the one technically protecting Jessamine when she died, left the woman he loved to suffer in silence because he can't figure the most obvious things, his list of failures miles long, his presence causing so much annoyance to everyone around him.  

How could he be so stupid, so blind? How many problems had he caused just by being who he was?

Who would be alive, who would have suffered so much less if he had just been a little smarter, a little quicker, a little less like himself?

He’s spent his whole life being told that he’s stupid, makes everything worse, everything is his fault, and he’s a burden on everyone around him, and there’s these things that might be his fault (no, nothing was his fault, Henry forgive yourself please-) you can not tell me they arent weighing on him a little bit. 

To pull from a discarded WIP of mine, “...in her head, Charlotte’s hands were stained red, and in his, Henry could bathe in the blood of the shadowhunters he’d killed.”

Genuinely hates staying in bed. It just drives him insane to sit in one room doing nothing. It’s bearable to go sit in your pajamas in the living room, but doing the same thing in a bedroom? 

Insufferable. Unmanageable. Impossible. Horrific. How could you possibly stay in such a boring place that long. What do you mean I could die. I’ll die in a different room thank you very much.

He’s really good at chess, but doesnt really get the big deal about winning the game. As in, he doesn't even remotely get why someone would get upset about losing, or why it’s if you want someone to like you you shouldn't beat them in five minutes. Charlotte eventually told him that some people just hate losing. “Great, got it” he said, then proceeded to just ask people if they wanted to win or not. This is not good for political relations. 

Cue the Clave conversations; 

“Do you play? I’d be honored to play a round with you, Mr. Fairchild.”

“I’d be delighted to. How would you like to play?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Would you like me to try and beat you, pretend to try and beat you but purposefully lose, or blatantly lose?”

“...”

“:)”

====

“Henry, darling, let’s go over this in a different way.”

“Literally what did I do???”

It’s canon that he had a lot of self esteem issues when he was younger, but it's one of the things I wish CC had looked more into. (I’ve got a fic about this exact thing, but don't know if i'll ever post it lol)

 There have been a few times when he’d had a particularly bad day and finds himself a little closer to the edge of a bridge than he should be, and shaking off how easy it would be to die right then. In a couple seconds, he could never bother anyone again. 

It's really an intrusive thought, but he just can't help but think how much better it might be for everyone if he wasn't here. The shadowhunters really genuinely don't like him, and canonically treat him horribly, and for him it seems like all he does for Charlotte, who he loved more than anything else in the world, is make her life harder.

 When he’s coming back from an assignment it would be so easy to drop everyone else off at the institute, take a horse out (Balios can find his way back), and just not come back. At least not breathing, that is. 

 He doesn’t act, of course. After all, the Institute is a busy place, and he often is needed for errands or assignments. It would be cruel to leave them to navigate with one less pair of hands. Will and Jessamine really are a handful, and Jem is… well, it wouldn't be fair to make a scene when the focus should be on them. Besides, if Charlotte is at all fond of him, his death would be more upsetting than his blunders. 

Right?

[aubzikins]

Alaskan Darkness - Chapter 2 Writer's Collective Discord Shenanigans Pt1

We have many POVs for our lovely Rah's fic. I figured I would give yall an insight on the craziness of our little Collective. ENJOY! PSA... This is all fictional... mostly.. shenanigans

After talking to Rah about logistics of the KCONers getting up to Alaska, we got to work on prepping the houses in our neighborhood for incoming company. Nick and I were able to find some abandoned stores that had a ton of winter gear of all different sizes. We loaded up our two SUVs and determined to use the middle house of the neighborhood as a “processing” center. This allows everyone to come into the neighborhood, get a set of keys for a house, some food and pick up some winter gear.

Dealing with a zombie apocalypse where they seem to not like Alaska, is kind of boring. We are in a smaller town which means we don’t have to deal with a whole lot of people. This leaves me with some extra time on my hands. After getting everything prepped, we still had a couple days until the KCONers were due to arrive. I decided to get onto Discord and check in with everyone.

Writers Collective Discord – Chaotic-Main:

Aubz: Hey y’all!!!! God, the one good thing about being up here is that no one bothers me. Everyone doing okay down there?

Rah: Were good.

Rayne: Just hanging out…

Bella: All good here, getting to know everyone.

Aubz: Hey @Rayne, have you tried to “seduce the Jinnie” yet?

Rayne: I…

Rah: AUBZ!!!! WE INVITED THEM ALL TO THE SERVER!! THEY ARE IN HERE!!!

Aubz: Oh Shit!!!! *Deletes the previous message* SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aubz: Um… So, @Rah @Bella, I am making a new role and a private channel. Also, please next time WARN me before we invite a bunch of idols into the server. Everything has been muted since we were out and about collecting supplies…

CaptainsEyepatch: wtf? I thought Rayne was into Woo??????

Aubz: o.o Um… Whatcha talking about? I’m Aubz Snow… I know nothing.

**creates a private channel and the role of WC Ogs**

Aubz: Ok, so when the FUCK did they all join???

Bella: *hysterically laughing* The Kids joined as soon as we got internet back, the pirates joined after the military announcement.

Rah: Yeah, figured everyone should be in the server so we could communicate better.

Aubz: Oh okay… WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT

Jennen: Theres the lightbulb…

Aubz: OOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG DOES THIS MEAN THEY HAVE BEEN ABLE TO READ EVERYTHING WE HAVE SENT????????????

Shai: Yeah… about that… I have already had to talk to Bin and Cap about it. That was a fun convo *rolls eyes*

Kel: They have seen all the pictures as well..

Aubz: *dies dramatically* oh fuck… All Channels?

Bella: Yeah

Aubz: and y’all have the pirates HEADING MY WAY?

Rah: *nods* Yes…

Aubz: omfg omfg omfg…. *finally meets Seongwha* “Hi im the middle aged married woman who has been thirsting and writing about yall for years… Welcome to my humble abode.”

Rah: *laughing* I love Aubz meltdowns!

Kel: me too

Aubz: Question…

Bella: possible answer?

Aubz: Do they by chance know about our personal servers?

Kel: I know they know about them but none of us have sent them any invites…

Aubz: Oh thank god…

Rayne: Also… no I have not seduced the Jinnie. Although he's trying to seduce me it seems... *winks*

Bella: I may or may not have told the demon Bunny about your server name.

Aubz: *Embarassed face* WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT???

Bella: Because you have been paying a monthly fee to call him Meow Meows everyday. Also he admits that he saw those messages AND all the messages that you had sent about DnD, fics etc

Rah: Basically, if it was put into this server... they know about it...

Aubz: Ok… so I am gonna start heading for the arctic circle, its been nice knowing y'all.

Rah: it gets better…

Aubz: WHAT DO YOU MEAN RAH?

Bella: *sends laughing Ezma Kitty gif*

Aubz: oh fuck…

Jennen: Just take this as payback for your years of shenanigans…

Kel: Its okay Aubz… its good…

Rah: I will send you a DM

Aubz: *sends a Chan hiding gif*

Rah: Check your DMs

Aubz: I am so fucked… figuratively…

Aubz: o…m…g… I am um gonna go hide now. Also just remember, I am gonna be able to tell the pirates ALLLLLLLL ABOUT YOU GUYS! So no telling the Kids ANYTHING

Rayne: I will just message Seongwha on the side and give him a list of all your side comments in your server… Like tagging Peach trying to get her to stan Ateez… the tongue pics

Shai: Remember we have access to your server too.

Aubz: oh god…

Shai: If I have to suffer, everyone is suffering…

Bella: Might wanna check the main chat guys..

Writers Collective Discord – Chaotic-Main:

CaptainsEyepatch: wtf? I thought Rayne was into Woo??????

Aubz: o.o Um… Whatcha talking about? I am Aubz Snow… I know nothing.

Rah: Don’t mind the Aubz, she’s been isolated for a while

WoosFoxEars: Cheating on me already Rayne?

CaptainsEyepatch: Wow, I thought I told you guys that you can only stan us?

BinniesCake&Biddies: Its not our fault that they found better? *winks*

WoosFoxEars: Better? I’ll remember that Binnie

ChickieYongbok: I think it’s cute!

Ferret&Flames: *sends a drama gif*

Rah: …

Bella: Now Now Guys…

ChrisHasRizzButCannotFlirt: …

SURPRISE!_ImLINO: Let them fight it out Bella… I need some entertainment…

MamaHwasTongueTamer: Where did Aubz go?

Jennen: She is hiding, she is our chaos starter…

OGMaknaeOnTop: That is an understatement from what I have read..

DobermanInTheDiscord!: oh @Aubz where are you… it shows you online!

Aubz: … New Discord, who this?

Bella: *facepalms*

Rah: *laughing*

Jennen: Didn’t you rant about FicJinnie setting you on fire in the fic @Rayne???

Rayne: … I hate you…

Aubz: um… did yall seriously use the fic Discord usernames?

Bella: They did it so we knew who they were.

Aubz: I feel like I was set up… *nervous laugh* Don’t mind me as I go and delete ALL previous messages and start walking towards the arctic circle like ive been exiled.

MamaHwasTongueTamer: @Aubz don’t do that! I am on my way up to you, Tongue and all *winks*

Aubz: Rayne… Please see other chat…

Rayne: Nope say it here Aubz

Aubz: Rayne… Not in front of guests.

Bella: *insert popcorn gif*

SURPRISE!_ImLINO: Bella share the popcorn, this is getting good.

Rayne: Aubz… I DARE you to say it in here…

Aubz: FINE… IM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU THE MOMENT I FUCKING SEE YOU RAYNE!!!!!!!

TheFaeKingsCrown: @Aubz No strangling the Rayne…

MamaHwasTongueTamer: @Aubz calm down…

Jennen: Bold of y’all to assume Rayne would not enjoy Aubz strangling them…

Aubz: *facepalms* and I just swore in front of them. *cries* I am gonna go die now.

Rah: Not allowed Aubz

Aubz: On that note… I am gonna go finish prepping for the KCONers arrivals. If y’all need me, tag me *kisses* *inserts Homer Simpson disappearing gif*

MamaHwasTongueTamer: See you soon Aubz *winks*

Writers Collective Discord – Chaotic-Main:

Aubz: btw I hate y’all and fuck my life…

Rah: Nope! You love us!!!

[chekovsphaser]

Love when my mother asks me "but what did so-and-so mean by such-and-such?" like I'm going to give her an answer that isn't "maybe he meant what he said?" or "I'm not sure" or if I'm feeling particularly uncharitable "why are you asking me, of all people, this question?"

[ronearoundblindly]

Hello! I’ve never done an “ask” before, but since you’re one of my fave writers I thought I’d give it a go. I love the way you write Your soft Steve. I especially love how cerebral he is; even if he’s not sure how to open up and express himself easily (even to reader), you show us how thoughtful and self-aware he is. So my ask is having him go against type a bit. Have him get a visceral reaction like jealousy, wherein he just ACTS out of a primal urge (like the latest Dignity of his choice where he is at the mercy of his basic instincts). Jealous Steve would be hot. Or angry Steve (like if some guy was hitting on reader aggressively). I know you’re working on a lot of great other stories, but if this idea sparks an interest I’d love to see what you would do with it! ❤️

So IRL, I loathe jealousy but damn if it isn't some of the sexiest. shit. ever. in-fic.

Message Received, over 1.5k b/c there must be plotty plot

Summary: At a diplomatic event, Steve realizes he doesn't like when you have more fun at the function than he does.

Warnings for macho-shit, general possessiveness, but I'll be honest, I still wrote it kinda soft in comparison to other jelly!Steve's I've read. I am incapable of much 'dark' behavior. Also zero editing.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

You wouldn’t categorize these fancy receptions as ‘fun.’ Often times they are long and boring. The worst ones are arduous, ones where you have to hold your tongue and be spoken down to by others, ones where you are Steve’s trophy and assumed to have no opinions of your own.

This is one of the best ones.

Nova Corps has sent a delegation to Earth for some negotiations for support and supplies. The people are fascinating, funny, and intelligent. The absolute best part is that one young-ish man (compared to the others who look 60+ by human standards and you aren’t sure what the equivalent is for them frankly) is knowingly talking to you about your interests. He’s aware of Earth’s current scientific understanding and its limitations. He knows you are studied and, in fact, the lead of your lab at AvIn. He’s just nice about it.

My god, you never get nice people at these things. It’s so freeing.

His name is a variant of Michael, and he says you’re welcome to use that instead of a convoluted native tongue. Michael has blue skin but appears extremely similar to human. There’s pink- and orange-skinned members of the delegation as well. You want to know, scientifically but also as respectfully as possible, what the differences are. Various facial and body features show across them, but none are consistently isolated by color. It’s fascinating.

Michael is so excited that you are fascinated, too.

Steve’s going through the motions. These functions are a chore—but not always—and he has a purpose for being here—but it’s complete now—so he keeps listening to the Nova Prime while she speaks of logistical concerns for the partnership with Earth and yada yada…

Man, Steve is not usually this over these events so early in the evening. It’s probably due to this being the party at the end of five whole days. Ceremony after meeting after photo-op after ceremony after meeting.

His eyes roam around the room for you. If you seem sufficiently ‘done’ as well, he’s ready to make excuses and head home.

But you’re not. You are not ‘done’ at all.

That’s your engrossed face.

That’s your flattered face.

Steve purses his lips and realizes he stopped listening to the Prime.

“I’m so sorry, but do you know who that is over with the woman in—“

“Oh, yes, he was so delighted when we knew your wife would be here.”

Steve wants to be delighted, too, but his jaw simply tightens instead. Nova Prime tells him a name that Steve outright does not know how to repeat before—

“Call him Michael, here. It’s no bother. He’s quite used to it, but his specialty is very similar to hers. He can talk for hours and hours since it is rare he finds a kindred spirit who understands the particulars,” she goes on.

Steve watches as your face lights up and your hand lightly drags down Michael’s arm. That’s fine. You’re talking. You’re animated and using those hand gestures that signify microscopic particles interacting in a way that Steve’s never really gotten a grasp on, and then you lift your hand to your ear and scrunch your nose, struggling to hear Michael’s answer.

That man leans forward, and it’d be fine if he just steadied himself with a touch to your arm. That’d be normal. Acceptable, but no. Michael puts his hand to your neck when he replies very close to your ear.

Steve may as well have swallowed the shield. A lump the size of Mount Rushmore is lodged in his chest. Maybe it’s heartburn from the fancy and foreign food being served for days on end. Maybe Steve needs more water. Maybe Michael needs to take a step back before—

“They seem to be getting along nicely,” the Prime says, smiling.

Tony steps into Steve’s view of your conversation and makes his way toward them.

“All-in-all, I think we’ve had a success, yes?”

“Nova Corp will never forget the generosity of Earth, Mr. Stark.”

A customary bow is exchanged, though Steve knows Tony joked about going in for a hug with the tall blond that is Nova’s Prime, and at some point, Steve cared whether Tony made an interstellar incident out of coping a feel. Not now. Steve has no care for anything Stark does because where did you go?

“Excuse me,” he hurries out after taking a step around Tony.

Steve meanders over to where you were talking with Michael a few seconds ago, grateful for his height so that he can scan the room the whole journey, but he can’t see you or the color of your dress or the blue of Michael’s skin anywhere.

He’s getting hot, and Steve has absolutely no reason to be sweating even in his three-piece suit. The serum makes it so he doesn’t break a sweat or increase his heart rate until the average person would go into cardiac arrest, and seriously, where are you?

He doesn’t want to stop people he knows in their mingling to ask ‘have you seen my wife’ over and over. For some reason that smacks of a desperation that wiggles the lump thumping against Steve’s sternum with every stride around the room.

And then Steve hears your laugh. You’re at the edge of the large ballroom. No. You’re in a hallway off the ballroom. A much quieter hallway that Steve is not at all happy to find is not better lit than the sultry event space.

There’s Michael with his forearm stretched across yours and your hands clasped at each other’s elbows.

“I can feel it,” you giggle again. “That’s amazing.”

Steve thunders down the few feet of hall to get to you, sliding a hand—the full expanse of his broad hand—across your back, between your shoulder blades, where he knows you are sensitive, and threads his fingers to land beneath the strap of your gown for the occasion. He’s delighted to get a small but visible shiver out of you, and your arm unlatches from the boy’s.

“What’s amazing, my beloved Keeper?” He’s sure to cast each syllable in bronze and hurl it in Michael’s direction specifically. Blue Boy knows what it means. Steve’s sure of it, but the bemused smirk never falters.

“Sweetheart,” you chirp, no hint of concern, only your excitement. “His species—that’s appropriate to say, yes?—“ Michael nods politely “—they can control a certain amount of electrical output from their brains in order to reinforce any part of their anatomy.”

Steve’s not an expert, but he’s fairly confident there’s a hard-on joke in there somewhere. You don’t seem to notice. You’re still trying to explain when Michael cuts you off.

“Basically, my bones can’t be broken,” Blue Boy concludes with a bright white smile.

Yeah, but are your teeth safe, Steve wonders.

His hand unhooks from your dress only to land possessively at the swell of your hip. This is the closest thing Steve ever does to actually touching your ass in public, and he gets a shy glancing down from you in return. He even pushes you against his hip which leads to the equivalent pressure of a grope.

You stand up ramrod straight and clear your throat.

“That’s a bold claim. Can’t,” Steve starts. “Maybe it’s a language barrier, but are you saying it’s impossible?”

Blue Boy smiles. “Mr. Rogers, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” and he bows as is customary.

You won’t, Steve almost says but catches himself. “It’s Captain Rogers.” He does not move his hand from your hip but sticks out his other with steel blue eyes fixed on Michael. “And this is traditional here.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take Steve’s hand, which is irritating enough, but then Steve grips—and he grips fucking hard—for a very long few seconds.

“This is Michael,” you offer politely, unknowingly, thoughtfully while a minuscule game of chicken is played two feet below your nose, “since we can’t pronounce the native tongue, or at least, I can’t.”

“Pleasure—“ Steve grips “—to meet you—“ he finally feels a small snap beneath his thumb and Blue Boy’s eye twitches while the white of his smile fades “—Michael.”

To his credit, the boy doesn’t make any other show of pain, but he does let the hand fall limp by his side while his face settles back to neutral.

“Captain,” he huffs before nodding at you, “Mrs. Rogers, excuse me. I must be returning to my people.”

Michael leaves without another bow. Steve is very pleased to have broken Michael’s…sense of custom as he turns to you.

“Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, taking your chin in his hand softly, “shall we go?”

You seem surprised. “Already? I thought you’d need to schmooze for at least another—“ but his lips cut you off.

It’s not as heavy-handed as he could be, but Steve pins your hips against him while his tongue dives past your perfect lipstick. He kinda wants to smear it. He really hopes it gets all over him.

“I want—” Steve releases your mouth “—to take you—“ and he spends a little too long dragging his lips across your jaw before finishing breathily in your ear “—home.”

That’s it, he thinks. Melt in my arms, to my touch, at my words.

He relishes every second you need to compose your response.

“Yeah,” you pant, aimlessly unfocused at the ceiling before looking at him again. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Weeeeeeeeellll, I hope you enjoyed that because 🥵 I got myself again. Hope it made sense because I'm too distracted by Steebness to be coherent. And fuck it. This is within the Fools-verse so I'mma tag the list. (It's not because I'm proud of the hng at all. No way. Nuh-uh.)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

Thank you for the ask! Always welcome and keep them coming!

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[venusiangguk]

gold rush pt. 2 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 8.9k

>>warnings: romantic ass eating 😐, oral (m), fingering (m/f), butt stuff but it’s SEXY, explicit sex, crying, jungkook likes to be praised, soft koo, dom reader... but like soft, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, this is so soft, that good smut, literally like 7.5k of filth

>>notes: hot girls eat ass!! oc is a hot girl!! this involves butt stuff (just mouth and fingers, no pegging 😔), so if that isn’t ur cup of tea just read pt 1 again lol, i separated it this way in case there were people who weren’t down to go down... iykyk. but with that said, i encourage u to open ur eyes and ur mind and give this a chance 🤩

>>summary: jk finally lets you eat his ass 😁👍🏻

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s day 6 of trying to get Jeongguk to let you eat his ass. It’s getting hard to function, and the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it used to. The week has been a rough one, filled with clenched butt cheeks, and fewer blow jobs than normal. You just can’t seem to stop yourself from wandering south when you’re down there, so you’ve lost the privilege. Constantly met with Jeongguk’s laughter filled eyes when he pulls you up to where you’re supposed to be, and a “You should not want to eat my ass this bad.”

He just doesn’t understand.

Currently you’re sat in the cafeteria with your friends, your eyes consistently roaming to a table across the large room. He’s laughing at something and his hands are clapping in front of him as he throws his head back. You rest your head on your arms, pouting, and you breathe a deep and miserable sigh.

“Alright y/n what the fuck?” Your friend Yuna says, flicking your cheeks.

Her speaking up causes a few of your other girlfriends at the table to direct their attention towards you. “Yeah, you’ve been like... pouty for the last few days. What’s going on?” Cho questions as well.

You debate keeping the silly internal struggle to yourself before giving in and stating plainly, “Gguk won’t let me eat his ass.” You blow absently at a piece of hair that falls into your face, eyes crossing as you look at it. Next to you, Jiwoo chokes on the zero cal drink that she’s been sipping.

Yuna stares at you blankly for a moment before recovering. “That’s... well that’s a predicament.” She hums in thought. “Does he actually not want to or is he just being shy and stubborn?”

“Second one.” You say. You’ve known your boyfriend for years and you’ve definitely learned how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being stubborn. If you really thought he wasn’t about it you would have dropped it. But you know Jeongguk’s just being difficult because he thinks it’s funny to make you pine, and actually has at least some curiosity about the act. He just won’t admit it.

“Minjun was the same way,” Cho nods in solidarity. “But he likes it now.”

“How’d you get him to change his mind?” You ask perking up. A beacon of hope.

“We watched porn of it together.”

“That’s how I discovered it!” You gasp.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

you:

minjun let’s cho eat his ass 🥺

You watch Jeongguk from across the room and see the moment he receives the text. He searches the lunch room before his eyes land on yours and he let’s out an incredulous harsh laugh, before shaking his head slightly to himself. You glance at your phone and see the text bubble appear in your messages.

koo 🥴:

maybe he’ll let you eat it too 🥺

You gape at your phone and look at your boyfriend only to see him talking to his friends again. He gives you a side glance and you see his smile grow bigger as he tries to ignore you.

~~~

Jeongguk’s sitting at his lunch table picking at the food in front of him listening as Jimin rambles about the not-so-great grade he got on his latest science test. “Why the fuck do I need to know that the sun will make it too hot for life to exist on earth in a couple billion years? Not only will I be dead, but that is just anxiety inducing.”

His phone that’s vibrating on the table catches his attention, a picture message from you on the home screen. He gets a little excited at the sheer potential that a picture message has and opens it eagerly. Sure the chances of getting a titty pic when it’s mid-day and you’re both in the middle of a lunch cafeteria are small... but they are never zero.

When he opens the message and sees the picture, he laughs loudly before clapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

He’s about to respond when Taehyung says, “Alright, you can’t keep laughing at your phone and not tell us what’s so funny.”

Jeongguk looks at the couple in front of him a trace of a smile still lingers on his lips. He shows them what you sent. “Y/n wants to eat my ass so bad.” He laughs to himself, going back to his phone.

“Are you not letting her?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk sets his phone to the side before he gets to respond. It’s clear his friends are ready to have a conversation about it. “I don’t think so.”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and smirk. “Why not? It feels really good.”

He looks between them silently before asking, “You’ve done it?” He receives two nods.

“This one’s a real ass-muncher.” Taehyung says jerking a thumb at his boyfriend. Jimin swats at him.

“He says like that like its a bad thing and like he doesn’t cum from just my mouth and my fingers.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Jeongguk tenses and turns a little red. A little tremor of heat coursing through his body at the thought of feeling so good that he could cum without even having a hand around himself. “Just from that? No dick touching? Is that even possible?”

“Oh to be straight and oblivious to the wonders of butt stuff.” Jimin pouts at him like he feels bad for him.

Taehyung on the other hand is a bit more helpful. He pops a fry in his mouth and talks with his mouth full, “It’s possible. We have like a button in our ass that’s like... magic. You know what a prostate is right?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Obviously.”

“Okay well let her put her fingers and tongue in your ass then, if you know so much about it. Have you eaten hers?”

“Yeah I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of that girls body.” He’s nodding and smiling like he’s proud. He glances at you, and he sees you huddled next to your friend, looking closely at something on her phone, your long hair falling like a curtain over your shoulder, some pooling on the table. You look so pretty. You feel his stare, and look at him. Your smile is soft, and your lips pucker in a little kiss. Chuu.

“Right,” Jimin says bringing Jeongguk back to the topic at hand, “Well if she let you, and you’re open to it you should let her... like it will actually feel better for you than it probably did for her.” Jeongguk looks like he’s about to defend his honor and sex skills, before Jimin cuts him off, “Not saying you didn’t do it right or whatever. It’s just that guys are like programmed to like it... like biologically or- something.”

“Or something.” Jeongguk repeats.

“Why don’t you want to in the first place? Is it because you think it’s gay?” Taehyung asks laughing, knowing that that’s not why.

Jeongguk gives him a bored deadpanned stare. “No. Maybe it’s because I shit out of my ass and don’t want her mouth near it? She’s perfect, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Jimin cackles. “Well it’s not like you just let her go for it! You have to prepare.”

Jeongguk sits and listens as his friends give him nothing less than a full comprehensive lecture on the logistics of ass eating and ass getting ate. Ass 101. He’s still unsure but hearing from guys who have actually done it and enjoyed it makes him feel a bit more open and curious. It has him pulling out his phone and tentatively typing out a text to you, finally replying to the picture you sent.

me:

i’m thinking about it

He watches you, waiting for the text to get to you. He smiles when he sees you get excited at seeing his name on your home screen, something warm blossoming in his chest. He struggles to keep his face straight when he sees your head whip up, looking at him wide-eyed like you can’t believe what he just texted you. His fingers wiggle in a small wave, and the biggest smile slowly crawls across your face. He receives one last message before lunch ends.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

say less, sir 🤤

~~~

Jeongguk lays on his back patiently, looking down at you below him while you take your time planting soft kisses all the way down his body. He was in a quite docile mood considering all the pestering you’ve put him through the past few days. And despite what you both knew you had planned for him. Something he claimed to be nervous about, but you supposed one could be nervous and excited and pliant all at once.

When you take one of his nipples into your mouth he lets out a soft “oh...” his hands flying up like he wants to wrap them in your hair, hold you there till he’s pleased, but he catches himself when his arms are halfway raised. He brings them back down by his sides, fists the sheets like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to be good for you. As you lick and suck on the paired nipple, feeling it pebble in your mouth, you watch  Jeongguk’s mouth fall open silently while his eyebrows furrow and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between them. His cock is steadily going from warm and plump to hot and hard and leaking, you can feel it twitch against your lower belly.

He opens his eyes to watch you and you can see his pupils are blown and you smile up at him, a tiny bud still pulled between your teeth and Jeongguk whines. A high pitch needy, breathy noise falls from his lips before he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. His head turns to the side, baring his neck in subconscious submission, and God. He doesn’t get like this often but when he does? He is the prettiest sight.

Heat pools in your belly and your panties are already sticking to your bottom half. You hum before moving your ministrations to his torso, soft wet open mouth kisses being placed any and everywhere, prolonged ones on each of his abs. He works so hard for his body, his physique. It’s something he does for himself, but you feel lucky that you get to see him like this in all of his glory.

“Thank you.” You say as you place a kiss on the tattoo he has on his hip bone.

He hums, “For what?”

“For letting me see you like this,” You finally wrap a hand around his cock. You bite your lip when you feel it jump in your palm, “For letting me explore today. You’re so sexy, and so lovely, and so perfect. You work so hard, baby.” Kisses, so many kisses planted over his groin area, but never where he wants it most.

He huffs and you can see a flush from embarrassment darken the already present flush of arousal, due to the praise and mention of exploring. He squirms in your hold, not wanting to talk, probably wishing you would just get on with it already. Surely you can feel him throbbing in your hand, right?

Finally, you bring your lips to his frenulum and place the softest kitten lick to it and Jeongguk positively keens in your hold. You stroke his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to watch a bead of precum well at the top. It glistens, shiny and clear, at the pink head. You wrap your lips around the tip fully, lapping and swirling your tongue over it, humming at the heady, slightly bitter taste on your tongue. It’s not particularly pleasant per se but it’s sexy. The fact you get him so worked up that his cock can’t help but leak, so worked up that he can’t help the soft little whines that fall from his lips; the fact that he gets so turned on and hard and wet just from a few of your kisses and licks makes you moan with his cock in your mouth, thighs squeezing together for some type of pressure and relief.

You pop off with a harsh suck. “I can’t wait to taste you.” You groan, licking a broad stripe up his cock with the flat of your tongue.

He grumbles quietly shifting, sort of like he’s antsy and frustrated. He knows what you mean and he knows you don’t mean his cock that you just had in your mouth.

“What was that?” You ask through a smile, nipping at his hip with your teeth.

“Can you stop talking about it and just suck my dick so I can forget you’re even gonna do that?” He rolls his eyes and pouts down at you with a tiny scowl on his face.

“Oh baby,” You laugh, not patronizingly, but there is a little bit of a teasing lilt to your voice, “Are you still embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer, just scowls harder if that was even possible.

You move away from his cock, and up his body. His eyes reflect panic and his hands finally move from the sheets to press on your shoulders, trying to keep you in place. “No, stay,” he whines.

You laugh again pushing against his hold before finally settling half on his chest. You rest a leg over his thigh, keeping your body close and pressed to his. You look into his big brown doe eyes that are slightly glassy from all the teasing. You can see some apprehension and nervousness swimming in them as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking softly. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm before his hand comes up to hold your wrist, to just touch some more. His other hand runs up and down your body that’s resting half on top of him, tickling slightly like your the one that needs attention. He kisses your hand that’s on his cheek softly before looking at you again.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You say quietly, thumb brushing over his cheek bone.

His eyes fall closed again and you can see his brow furrow once more, though this time it isn’t out of pleasure it’s because he’s thinking. Despite all the playful teasing and pestering and banter, you’ve always made sure to check that he was actually okay with you going down there. And, yeah, he was nervous but after talking about it seriously and doing some research together he always said he was fine with it. But you know things can change in the moment and you just want to double check, make sure that he still feels that way.

You hum in question gently, prompting a response.

He huffs, tightening his grip on your wrist, a nervous gesture. His eyes are still closed when he quietly says, “No I just... I- I’m not like backing out...”

“You can though.” You interrupt.

His eyes open quickly, and he shakes his head. “No, no I want to I just...” His voice starts off strong but tappers into a softer tone. “I want to I just feel a bit like... weird.”

Your brow furrows this time. “Why, baby?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want you to.” He doesn’t meet your eyes and you can feel his cheek heat up in your palm.

Ahhhh, you think. Although you talked and teased about the topic, you realize that while Jeongguk agreed (whilst impishly feigning a faux diswant on principle) you never realized that the lighthearted “You shouldn’t want to eat my ass this bad” remarks may have stemmed from something serious, and weren’t just playful protests.

“Why do you feel that way?” You press gently.

His eyes flicker to you and then to your mouth, then back to something (nothing) off to the side. He has a small not-so-amused smile on his lips when he says, “It’s kinda taboo isn’t it?”

You can’t help but giggle at the word he used. Taboo. Out of all the things you guys have done, this is what he chooses to get shy about. Sweet boy.

“Not any more tabooo than you wanting to eat my ass, or fuck my ass.” You hum at him, stretching out the word in a teasing manner, making him look at you. You smile at him before continuing, “Or you like slapping me, or me gagging you with my panties, or-“

“Okay okay! I get it.” He laughs and places a kiss to your lips to get them to stop moving.

You beam, glad to see he’s a bit more relaxed. The boner however, is definitely gone, but that can be fixed.

“I’m not trying to convince you though.” You emphasize, “I only want to if you want to.”

He nods, softly smiling at you. “I want to.”

A salacious grin takes over your face and you sigh softly into his ear before whispering, “Perfect... I’m going to make you feel so good baby, make you feel so good with my tongue. Get you all whiny and red and sweaty. Maybe your legs will start to shake from how good it feels? Do you want that, Jeongguk?” You nip at his ear lobe as you feel a slight tremor run through his body. Your hips subtly roll against the side of his body, seeking any friction at this point. You feel him nod. “Maybe if you like my mouth enough we can use fingers when you’re ready baby.” You hear him suck in a sharp breath and slowly let it out on a shaky exhale. You grin and place a kiss to his temple before continuing. “Get them inside of you to find that spot that will really set you off. The spot that will make you cum for me. Wouldn’t that feel so good baby?”

He nods again and you can feel the hand that has been running up and down your back throughout the conversation grip at your ass roughly.

“Say it baby, I wanna hear you.”

He whines and struggles against the hand on his face that is now gripping his jaw, still putting up a little bit of a fight about wanting something he considers “taboo”. But he gives in easily enough when he realizes you won’t continue until you get more confirmation that he genuinely wants this, and is excited to have it.

“It’s gonna feel so good y/n. God, you’re gonna make me feel so good.” He’s shy when he says it, but he’s almost panting as well. At last, he’s giving in and admitting to himself that this is something that will feel good and is okay to want.

He grips your face and kisses you. It starts slow and tentative but quickly manifests into a kiss that is deep and hard, one that is full of lust and neediness. He bites at your lip needing to release some of the pent up frustration but at your whine of pain he licks over it apologetically, placing softer kisses instead for a moment before he rests his forehead against yours, both your breathing is ragged for a minute until he speaks up.

“Please y/n. I’m so hard.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

You take a second and look down between your bodies and sure enough, his cock has returned to full hardness, and your mouth waters seeing even more precum welling at the tip than before.

“I’m gonna suck it.”

“Please do.” Jeongguk laughs as you move down his body, but the laugh goes high pitched and breathy when you take him down your throat immediately.

“Fuck...” he sighs, his head falling back and eyes fluttering.

You pull off and close your eyes, relishing in the fact that you can make him feel like this. Grinning against his cock you place a kitten kiss to the shaft. “Good baby?”

He nods his head. “Yes yes, please keep going.”

You hum against the head causing Jeongguk to exhale sharply, hips twitching due to the vibrations. He’s so sensitive and you crave the reactions you pull from him. Whether they’re the soft noises and the small twitches or the loud moans and jerking muscles, they are all equally loved and desired.

Quickly you pull off and reach up placing your hand under his mouth, before he can protest at you pausing again. Maybe you’re being a little mean, but he sounds so pretty when he’s desperate and you just can’t help yourself.

“Spit.” You instruct.

You see him work his jaw, sharp edges protruding here and there while he gathers some in his mouth before spitting it into your hand. You peck a nipple on the way back down to his cock wrapping the spit filled hand around him. You see him watching you and you hold eye contact as you gather some of your own and let it drool from your mouth landing on the tip of his cock. You swear you see his eyes go impossibly darker, his jaw clenching, hands turning to fists in the sheets beneath you both.

When you stroke, mixing everything, his eyes close and he lets out a breath through his nose as he rests back and gets a little more comfortable. It’s not too messy, just the perfect amount of wetness for the glide to be slick and pleasing for him. You tighten your grip and twist under the head watching as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense, a soft grunt draws your gaze to his face.

“Yeah... like that...” he whispers. He’s just barely rocking his hips into your hands, trying to be subtle while also trying to chase the feeling.

You speed up your hand, keeping up the movements he likes while adding your tongue to flick at the underside of his head. You glance at him and find him watching you again, a fucked out look on his face, mouth slightly parted and a bead of sweat running down his temple. Slowly you sink down watching him till you can’t anymore, burying the tip of your nose in the soft patch of neatly kept hair at the base of his cock. When you feel him hit the back of your throat you contract it and shake your head from side to side and finally, finally you pull out one of his loud and unrestrained moans. It goes straight to your pussy, making it feel like it’s pulsing in your panties.

You come up for a breath before you stay down as long as you can repeating the same actions that pulled the lovely moans from his throat and you continue to hear them as you feel him start to sink his hips, almost like he’s overwhelmed and trying to pull away from how good it feels, like he can’t handle how how good it feels.

In your peripheral vision you can see his hands twitching like he’s fighting with himself before he gives in and sinks them into your hair, pulling slightly before pushing your head down and bringing his hips back up. He’s not fucking your face, but he let’s his cock sink as far back as it can and let’s you work your throat around him, lets himself get overwhelmed instead of pulling away from the feeling like he was before.  

Jeongguk was a head pusher in every sense of the term. Some people hated when their partners did that, but you loved it. You loved it because Jeongguk was different from most head pushers. He had variety. Sometimes he liked pushing your head down and holding you there to choke you and watch tears form in your eyes, to watch your makeup run while you struggled to breathe. Sometimes he did it in a face-fucking way, his hips jackhammering while he moved your head up and down just the way he wanted it. This time though, he held your head down in a begging way. In a way that said “Oh god please, please don’t stop, it feels so fucking good, please stay there forever”.

Jeongguk is whimpering above you and you hum and moan loudly sending strong vibrations up your throat and down his cock and he’s thrashing, throwing his head back, grip in your hair tightening, a pleasant pain on your scalp.

“Oh my fucking god,” He groans, neck extended and his eyes squeezed shut.

His whole body is burning when you bring a hand down to massage his balls while still moving your throat against his tip and then all of a sudden he tenses and stills before he’s pulling you off, frantically chanting “Stop it, stop it.”

At lightening speed you grip the base of his cock, squeezing, trying to keep his orgasm at bay. Jeongguk’s whole body jerks with his cock, but no cum leaks out, only precum and spit making a mess on his angry, swollen cock. He relaxes back for a moment, cock still jumping, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and you do the same and after you slowly release the hold you have on his cock you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suddenly your world is blurry and you’re quickly being pulled to his chest and smothered with his hands on your cheeks, and his lips everywhere they can reach.

“God. You’re so good, so so good y/n. So perfect, make me feel so good baby. How do you do it?” He praises you between kisses and you giggle, gently pawing at his chest to get him to stop or at least slow down.

He does and you take a second to look at him. And he’s glowing. His eyes are shining, like he was close to tears and his cheeks are flushed. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead in places while the longer pieces are fanned out on the pillow underneath him. And his smile. He’s beaming and you are so in love.

You bring a hand up and brush some sweaty strands back off his face. His eyes close and he pushes into the touch like a kitten wanting pets. He sighs contentedly.

“You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk. So pretty.” You whisper, placing a kiss to his forehead.

You bring your hand down from his hair and cradle his cheek, running your thumb over his plump, red bottom lip. You can see faint teeth marks underneath it from where he was biting it. His eyelashes flutter on his cheek as his eyes close and he sighs quietly before he nibbles on the fingertip with his front teeth and then takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucking on it. You gasp quietly, and apply light pressure pushing down on the wetness of his tongue prying his mouth open and he just lets you.

Your lips find his, and you dip your tongue into his open mouth before your hand moves to his jaw to keep it agape and you fuck your tongue into it.

“This is how my tongue is gonna fuck you...” you whisper.

He whines high and needy, and his hands move to cup your cheeks. You moan before settling over him more comfortably and pushing your soaked panties to the side before wiggling till his cock is settled between your lips.

The night was supposed to be about him, but you need something before you lose it. You move your hips in small little thrusts, the length of his cock rubbing deliciously over you clit. You both gasp into each others mouths. The hands on your ass encourage you, pressing into your cheeks and the small of your back whenever you thrust forward, and the thumbs on your hips push when you grind back.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet.” He’s says it like he’s in awe, like he can’t believe it. Like he hasn’t made you this way so many times before.

You rest your forehead on his while continuing to grind on his cock. “Love you like this...” You grip his jaw again and pry it open, even though you know he would open willingly if you just asked. You look in his eyes searching, before you feel him nod in your hold. You lean forward over his mouth and let some spit fall into it, he moans while he eagerly drinks it down.

His grip on your hips tightens and you feel his cock jerk against your clit, but he’s good. He doesn’t cum.

“I love it too... just not all the time... it’s- a lot. Overwhelming.” He whispers, and you coo.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. Color?” You ask.

“Green.” He answers without hesitation.

You smile and kiss him. “Wanna keep going?”

He flushes when he nods his head. “Please.”

Once again you find yourself between Jeongguk’s legs. You play with his cock a little before smoothing your hands under his thighs, trying to gently push them up and back but he whines and resists.

“You have to let me see baby.” You say, a smile in your voice.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before slowly letting his legs fall apart.

You hum, before saying, “Hand me a pillow please.”

He’s confused but does as you ask, understanding when you tap the side of his cheek with instructions to lift his hips, pillow settling underneath his ass and lower back, propping them up a little.

You settle back down on your tummy, and open his legs again. Jeongguk says nothing but you can feel his body shaking a little with a constant tremor. He takes a deep breath settling back into the pillow he placed behind his head so he can watch what you do next.

“Ready?” You ask, hands gripping at the meaty inside parts of his thighs. You get a stiff nod, but still no noises. You pout but get started by running your tongue flat over his balls, hoping to ease him into it.

You feel his thighs tense, as you lap at the hairless balls, sucking them into your mouth every once in a while. Your eyes constantly flicker to Jeongguk’s face to make sure there’s nothing wrong, but all you see is pleasure on his face while he breathes out in soft little puffs through his nose. His eyes are hooded and his lip is drawn between his teeth.

You hold his heady gaze and you place your first little lick on his perineum. At the contact, his head falls back, mouth hanging open. You wiggle closer to place a kiss to the area, transitioning to quick little flicks of your tongue and Jeongguk moans, and you watch as he spreads a bit more, lifting his feet so his knees are pulled closer to his chest, giving you easier access. You moan at his eagerness, and have to stop for a minute, putting a hand between your legs to just press on your center for some kind of relief.

His eyes are still closed, like he doesn’t want to see you between his legs licking at his most private area, but his quiet whining and restless shifting is enough to let you know that he’s okay and enjoying it.

You bring your hands up and place one on each of his cheeks, squeezing a little, admiring the soft give of his muscles. He’s so plush. You apply pressure so his legs fall farther back and then spread him apart. You bite your lip and your mouth waters at the thought of how good your going to make him feel.

Tentatively you poke your tongue out and trace it around the little ring of muscle. He gasps and tries to clench and close his legs but you hold them in place.

“It’s okay baby.”

“‘S weird...” He mumbles.

“I know. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

You hear him take a few deep breaths before you feel his body shake with a nod. His legs fall open again and you make quick work of his hole, placing your tongue flat over it, dragging all the way up to where his balls meet his perineum.

“Ohhh,” He breathes out.

You take that as a good sign before getting a bit rougher with your actions, less of the tentative licks and more of some tight sucking and quick flicking. He’s doing so well and you can hear him moaning above you. His cock is so hard and swollen on his belly, neglected and leaking.

“Pull your legs back baby.”

He opens his eyes and they are unfocused. It takes him a second to process what you asked him to do, but once he does he moves quickly. He has a hazy look in his eyes, his mouth in parted slightly, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips as he gets comfortable in the new position.

“Watch me?” You plead, while licking over his hole again, eyes not leaving him waiting for a response.

His eyes close for just a moment and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between his brows and his cock jumps, a little spurt of precum oozing out. He inhales and opens his eyes on the exhale, breathing out a small “Okay.”

Once you start to figure out what he likes and what makes him happy, all you hear is the steadily getting louder pleased noises falling from his lips. You point your tongue and gently push past the tight ring of muscles and Jeongguk sobs. He brings a hand to his face and rubs over it, before throwing his arm over his face, hiding because he’s so overwhelmed. To your surprise he starts to gently rock against your tongue.

“Oh my god you’re so hot Jeongguk,” You moan.

“Don’t stop,” He begs. He sounds close to tears.

“Touch yourself, baby.”

You wait until you see his hand wrap around his cock giving himself a few slow strokes, wet eyes on you, waiting for you to keep going.

As soon as your mouth meets him again, his hand he has on his cock starts moving faster, almost frantically over his length and his hips are stuttering like he doesn’t know if he wants to fuck his hand or if he wants to fuck himself back onto your tongue. You decide for him and hold his hips close to your face, sucking repeatedly on the ring of fluttering muscle.

Jeongguk gasps, “I’m close, I wanna cum y/n- Please, I-“ His head falls back and his hand doesn’t slow.

You give your hum of approval against his hole, and watch him fall apart.

His head is thrown back and he’s so sweaty from working so hard for his release. His chest rises and falls in quick staccato breaths, and his free hand goes up to a nipple, lightly rubbing his thumb over it and he keens, before he goes silent, whole body stuttering and he chokes out nothing more than a quick, quiet “Cumming” before his cock pulses and shoots out 1, 2, 3 stripes of white, the rest dribbling down his length and over his fingers. His body almost convulses from the pleasure coursing through his veins. He keeps stroking, and he lets you keep licking until he squirms, uncomfortable from the overstimulation.

You wipe your mouth and immediately make your way up to his face, straddling his hips. You don’t care about the cum, but you’re carful to avoid his sensitive cock, which is a little deflated but still laying somewhat hard on his tummy. You’re both out of breath when you slam your lips against his so it’s more gasping into each other’s mouths while your lips occasionally meet before you need a breath again. But you’re desperate to show him how good he did.

You pull back and grip his face in your hands. His hands hold your wrists, like he’s keeping them in place on his cheeks. He’s still catching his breath with his eyes closed, but you want him to see how proud you are.

“Jeongguk, look at me.”

He does and his eyes are glassy and wet and his eyelashes are clumped together with unshed tears. He offers you a sheepish smile.

“You did so good baby. So fucking good. I love you.” You pepper kisses over his face.

He laughs breathlessly, “Didn’t get to your fingers...”

You laugh with him quietly. “That’s okay baby, we can do that next time. You were perfect.” You take a deep breath and collapse on top of him, resting your face in the crook of his neck, smiling while leaving small lovebites all over.

After a minute or so though, you feel him start to get restless underneath you.

“What is it baby?” You ask not really moving much.

He mumbles something into the top of your head.

“Huh?” You say sitting up to look at him.

He looks kinda petulant for someone who just came so hard it hit their neck.

He mumbles again.

“Koo. Words.”

He blushes and scowls looking away from you but the hands settled on your hips rub small circles into your hip bones, showing he’s not actually mad and most likely just being a brat.

“I want them now.” It’s quiet and pouty, but at least you understand him this time.

Your mouth opens in understanding but your eyebrows raise in surprise. You look over your shoulder and down to see his cock still laying plump and hard on his stomach in a little puddle of cum.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I know we said that was the plan but we can always do it ano-“

He grabs the back of your neck pulls you down to kiss you deep and slow, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. When he speaks again it’s soft against your lips.

“Please y/n... it felt so good,” A tiny peck is given as your noses touch.

You exhale a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”

He kisses you deeply again, but positions you over his cock so he can rut up into your pussy.

“Can’t you feel how bad I want it?” He whispers against your lips. He nips at the bottom one while smiling before pulling away and settling against the pillows again, looking at you expectantly once he gets comfortable.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Big words coming from someone who claimed they didn’t even want this like an hour ago.” You smile down at him, eyes sparkling.

He snickers. He breathes a deep sigh before settling back even more. “Yeah. That was before I came so hard that I almost blacked out.” His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed like he’s reminiscing about a distant memory, a smug smile on his lips.

“You switch from being my baby to a pain so fast.” You pout as you settle once again between Jeongguk’s legs.

He parts them with a hum. “Still your baby... just- make me feel good please, I’m like so hard- throbbing.”

You suck on your fingers a little bit to get them wet before circling one around the ring of muscles. You don’t miss the tiny gasp, or the way his legs subconsciously part even wider.

“I don’t think it’s gonna feel the best at first....” You warn, applying the slightest pressure to his hole, before going back to circling it. “Hand me the lube on the nightstand please.”

Jeongguk obliges before he says, “I know just... go slow.” He sounds just a little bit nervous.

You give a quick nod while you open up Jeongguk’s half empty bottle of lube and drizzle some onto your fingers, lathering it over them to warm it some before getting them into position.

“Do you think about me when you use this?” you ask still running your slick fingers over him.

He nods and licks his lips subconsciously. “Mhmm sometimes.”

You fake gasp and bite at his knee by your side. You’re sitting crisscross applesauce in between his legs. “Only sometimes?”

“I watch porn too,” He giggles breathlessly. “Sometimes I look for girls that look like you though, if that helps.”

“It does not.” You say indignantly, only half joking.

He brings his foot up and lightly kicks at your leg. “You watch porn too that’s literally why we are in this mess right now. We watched it together.”

You full on laugh at that. He has a point. “Okay enough, hush and relax baby.”

You weren’t sure if it was better to warn Jeongguk, or just slowly ease him into it without saying anything. If you warned him you knew he would tense up and it would just make it harder on his body, but you also didn’t want to take him by surprise either.

You must have just been circling his rim for a minute because Jeongguk huffs before asking, “Are you gonna like... put it in or...?”

You take that as a go, and peck the inside of his thigh a preemptive apology because you knew it was going to hurt a little. Jeongguk had prepped you for the times you tried anal with him and you vividly remember the sting before it became bearable. Your hands and fingers were much smaller than his, and certainly much smaller than his cock, so you are hoping the pain isn’t too horrible and ends quickly.

Oh so slowly you start to sink your middle finger inside of him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and when you flick your eyes up to look at him you can see his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t really hurt yet, it’s just uncomfortable... Keep going.”

You nod softly before you resume what you were doing, and once you get down to your last knuckle, you wiggle your finger around inside for a second like you had seen in the porn that you and him watched together, hoping to stretch him out some.

Above you Jeongguk is taking shallow breaths the sort of sound like they are getting a little higher pitched at the end, and he shifts and wiggles a bit because of the foreign feeling. You glance at his cock and see that’s its gone just a little soft.

“Touching yourself might help you relax a little bit and it might make it feel a little bit better.” You suggest lightly.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but he does as he’s told, slowly stroking his cock back to it’s full length.

“That’s it, good boy. I can feel you’re less tense already.” You praise, and you start to move your finger in and out. It’s tight, but there’s a lot less resistance. You move them just a bit faster and focus on Jeongguk’s reactions.

His hand has started to move a bit faster over his cock, and his mouth is parted and his eyes are closed, like he’s lost in the feeling. There’s a flush on his face that has travelled all the way down his chest. Soft moans fall from his lips occasionally, although you can’t tell if that’s from you or him touching himself.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“It feels…” He pauses like he’s unsure. “It feels… nice. I think.”

You snort. “You think?”

He laughs a little breathless, hand still stroking over his cock. “I mean it’s weird. But it’s not unpleasant. I could probably cum if I kept touching my dick.”

“Don’t cum, I haven’t found your button yet.” Your eyebrows furrow, determination set on your face.

“I do not have a button.” He says absently.

“You do. I’m gonna do the second one kay?”

“I don’t and okay.”

You ignore him and grab the lube again, adding a bit more. Your fingers find their place and as they start to sink in, Jeongguk sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and goes rigid. You wince.

“Hurts…” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry baby.” You rub your free hand over his thigh, trying to comfort him. You give him a moment, he takes a few breaths before saying to keep going.

It takes a little bit but eventually you get both fingers in. Jeongguk isn’t feeling good yet, teeth grinding, body tense, and hands fisted in the sheets trying to ground himself, but you are determined to make it good for him. You get on your stomach and add your tongue to your fingers as you start to pull them out just to push them back in. The lube doesn’t taste very good, but the way that Jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels your mouth on him again makes up for it.

“I- I love that.” He says, voice airy and soft as he turns his head to the side and into his shoulder like he’s trying to hide.

“Mmm, starting to feel good now baby?” You ask, flicking your tongue while your fingers start to sink in easily.

“Yeah, ‘s good…” He mumbles.

Once you’re sure that there’s no pain at all for Jeongguk, you start to crook your fingers inside of him on every thrust in trying to find that secret spot of his. Jeongguk sounds lovely while you’re searching, but the way he sounds when you finally hit it is like nothing you’ve heard from him before. It’s like he gets punched in the gut and looses his breath, a moan getting caught in his throat for a moment before he exhales a high pitched whine. You didn’t get to see it, too focused, but you know his eyes rolled back.

“There,” he breathes.

You moan as you rest your head against his thigh, focusing on your attention on your fingers and hitting that spot every time you move them inside of him. Each time you hit it sweet moans are punched out, or quiet affirmations are whispered. “Yes, please, more…”.

He has that look of pleasure on his face, the scrunched eyebrows, the parted mouth. He’s fidgety, and fussy like he just wants more but doesn’t know how to get it. He huffs, annoyed, before he starts to push back on your fingers.

“God… you’re so desperate for it,” You whisper completely captivated by how much pleasure Jeongguk looks like he’s in.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Until you start to put a constant pressure on his prostate, rubbing.

“Oh fuck- I-“ He looks down to where your fingers are like he can’t believe the way they are making him feel before he throws his head back and let’s out a deep groan.

He lets you make him feel good, let’s the pleasure build up in his body until you start to feel him tense. His whines start to come out more frequently, almost constant moans filling the air. So noisy. His legs open more and you see how his toes curl in the sheets.

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cum,” It’s said breathlessly, almost confused. Like he didn’t think that he would actually be able to cum just from your fingers inside of him, hands still at his sides fisted in the sheets.

“Yeah baby?” You ask, voice airy.

He nods, tongue poking out of his mouth like he’s concentrating.

Your arm hurts, but you keep thrusting and rubbing over that spot inside of him. His muscles are strained, and next to your body, you can see his legs start to tremble. His breathing is fast and short. His cock is fat and swollen laying in a puddle of precum, it looks like it hurts with how red it is. You take you other hand and start to rub on his perineum, stimulating him on the outside as well as the inside and that’s when he loses it.

He let’s out a choked cry before his body jerks up, curling in on itself. “Oh fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-“

You don’t let up, an awestruck smiling forming on your face as you watch Jeongguk fall apart on your fingers. He’s so tight around them, it’s like his body is begging you not to stop, keeping you in place. He feels like every hair on his body is standing on end and like his skin is overly receptive and sensitive to every little thing. Wave after wave of ecstasy is flowing over him. His whole body trembles, yet his cock doesn’t jerk like with his other orgasm. This time it just pulses flat on his stomach, cum leaking out of the tip adding to the mess that was already there. With every pulse of his cock, Jeongguk’s body curls more, back raise off the bed, abs flexed due to the strain on his core. The look on his face is one of indescribable pleasure. It’s obscene. After the final pulse of his cock, he falls back, absolutely spent.

Your fingers slowly come to a stop, and you carefully remove them from him and wipe them on the bed before you crawl over his thigh and flop down by his side. You peck his cheek, staying quiet this time, not wanting to overwhelm him. He’s still has tremors running through his body when he turns his head to look at you. His chest is heaving and his eyes are droopy, but there’s a sleepy smile on his lips. He curls onto his side so you guys are facing each other.

The silence is thick and heavy but not in a suffocating way. More so in a comforting way. The atmosphere feels like you both are wrapped in a weighted blanket, just relishing in the warm afterglow of what you did together.

You wiggle closer, hook a thigh over his hip. “How was it? Did you like it?” You don’t know why but you sound shy, kinda nervous.

He simply nods, a soft smile on his face as he brushes some hair behind your ear, hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a few seconds before it’s sliding down your arm, down your hip, playing with lacy top of your panties. He bumps noses with you, breathing in your exhales before he closes his eyes and fits his lips between yours. His hand slips into your panties.

You open easily for him, angling yourself mostly on your back so it’s easier for him to reach where you want him most. He sighs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. He dips between your lips and you gasp, hand going down to grip at his wrist willing him not to tease, to not move his hand away.

“Don’t worry, I just wanna make you feel good baby.” He coos in your ear as his middle finger starts to rub slowly over your clit.

You let out soft whimpers at the slow pace that makes the fire in your belly curl and steadily grow.

“Jeongguk, I’m already close…” You warn.

“Mmm, that’s it baby. Want you to cum for me, like I came for you.” His finger speeds up some. “Fuck, you made me cum so hard y/n. Made me crazy. You always do.” He moans gently into your ear.

You nod, and your legs begin to tremble. “Don’t stop,” You beg, meaning both his fingers and his words.

“You wanna know what it felt like? You wanna know what you did to me?” He presses a touch harder, and nips are your cheek.

You nod again, subtly rocking your hips into his touch.

“You made me cum untouched y/n. Do you know how good you had to fuck me in order for that to happen? God, it was so intense, and I was just leaking so much the whole time. You did that to me baby, you made me feel that good. Fuck, I wanna make you feel that good too, please cum for me y/n. I know you’re close, I know your body just as well as you know mine.” He sounds desperate, just yearning to get you there. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking, and the way you can’t stop whining my name. Sound so pretty baby, just for me. Your hand on my wrist is gripping so hard, like you can’t take what my fingers are doing to you. But you’re gonna take it and give me what I want right? Just like I gave you what you wanted, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jeongguk I’m cumming,” You cry, his words and his fingers making you shake and finally get the release that you’ve been putting off the whole night. Your thighs close over his hand but Jeongguk doesn’t let up, not until you’re cumming for the second time in a span of minutes.

“Please- I can’t-“ You squirm, and wiggle, until his fingers slow and finally slip form your panties. You sigh in bliss, body twitching as the last bits of your climax leave your body.

You turn back to your side and snuggle all the way against Jeongguk’s body, legs intertwining. Jeongguk runs his nails over your back, making little goosebumps sprout over your body. There’s a peaceful quiet coming over you, both tired from the events of the night. Jeongguk breaks it.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” It’s a timid statement, but you can hear how much he means it.  

You kiss softly over his heartbeat. “I always will.”

“Just please don’t ever ask to peg me.”

You simply hum. “Goodnight baby.”

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

i hope you liked it!! i’m thinking of writing a smutty drabble of when oc and jk watch the porn together 🤨 let me know if you would want to read that or anymore of this universe! comments, notes, and feedback are YEARNED for. my ask is also open if you want to request, share thoughts, or just talk

part 3 here!

[lilacsandwhiskey]

I’m currently obsessed with tiktok and tom holland so I’m obsessed with imagines about both. i think it would be cute if you do a tiktok trend with the boys but like the world doesn’t know about reader and Tom so people are shipping her with one of the guys? like from the tiktok? Tom maybe gets jealous or something ? idk i’m rambling haha

Thanks for the request anon :) I hope this was okay!

Heartbreak Anniversary

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pandemic and COVID, cussing, maybe suggestive at points???, angst, jealous Tom, uhhh sucky writing and no proofreading so bare w ya girl n kinda longer than I anticipated but here we are :)

Notes: italics = flashback

If someone asked you how you managed to get a life as crazy as your’s, you’d simply reply “just meet Harrison and become best friends.” You almost couldn’t fathom what your life looked like right now - you sat in the kitchen with your two friends, Harry and Tuwaine, who had fallen into the pits of TikTok with you, while Harrison, Sam, and your beloved, Tom, sat in the living room, screeching at the television as they watched a game. All of this, while in the middle of a worldwide pandemic.

You didn’t officially live with the boys, but you might as well have. Your apartment was only minutes away, but with how communal your living situation was, Tom simply talked it over with his brothers and best friends, who didn’t even hesitate to scream yes when he asked if you could stay there. It was “safest,” he explained when he begged you to come stay for a while. So you did.

How did we get here? It all started with a little project, Harrison Osterfield, and him playing cupid.

——————————

“Clumsy, are we?” Harrison managed to balance you as you tripped over your own two feet, walking into the studio. “What makes you think that?” You huffed back, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Just get that vibe.” He replied, shrugging with a smile.

It didn’t take long for you and Harrison to practically become the best of friends. He soon was inviting you out to drinks with his friends, who immediately accepted you. Though you and Harrison’s friendship was strictly platonic, you found him itching to find out about your relationship status. “Should I even wonder, Harri?” “I mean, no. I’m just curious.” “I thought I told you before I’m not interested in a relationship right now.” You said, glaring at him with a smile. “I didn’t ask that, I was just curious. So anyway, are you coming to the pub tonight? I’m dying for you to meet my friend, Tom.” The excitement in his voice was too much to understand, but instead of questioning, you just replied with a yes.

There you were, walking through the doors of the pub at 8pm sharp. Your eyes finally spotted familiar faces who were calling out to you. You followed suit, inching your way to the booth at the back. “Y/N!” They called, urging into hugs. “Hi everyone!” You replied, taking a seat. Tuwaine was already scooting over your favorite drink towards you. “Told you we’d always take care of you! Anyway, we’re celebrating tonight. Tom’s back home!”

Your eyes landed on the curly-haired boy who had a gentle smile playing on his lips. “No need for anything big, I’m just glad to be surrounded by my favorite people.” Tom said. “Nice to meet you finally, Y/N. Glad to finally put a face to the name.” Tom held a hand out, gripping tight to yours as he shook it. Little did you know, Tom was well-aware of what your face looked like. He hadn’t been able to stop scrolling through your social media pages after Harrison had posted a picture of you, him, and Tuwaine on his story during a night out.

———————————

“So who’s this girl you’ve been posting?” Tom said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible during this conversation with his bestfriend. “Y/N, I thought I’d mentioned her to you.” Harrison said through the phone. “I don’t believe you have, are you like…” “No, no, dude, you know I’ve been talking to Grace.” “I know, but I was just worried my best friend had moved on without telling me!” “You know I would. No, she’s just a friend, we met during a project. Grace actually loves her, and so does everyone else - including your brothers. Have they not told you about her?”

Tom tried to think back to his conversations, only briefly hearing mentions of your names when he’d ask what they’d been doing. He couldn’t help but scroll through your pictures, soaking up every aspect of your life, well, only what you displayed. You had a dog, bingo. You seemed to be funny by the way you captioned your pictures, good. You seemed to have fun, love your family, and live a life that perfectly reflected how Harrison had described to him after he had came to the realization that Tom had already began crushing on you just by what he’d started telling him and the way you portrayed yourself.

Tom begged Harrison to be his wingman. Harrison practically scolded him the first few times. “I don’t want you to mess up this friendship.” “She’s not just a fling, Tom.” “Can’t you just be friends first?” Tom would settle for the last comment. “Fine, introduce us.”

————————————

Your conversations with Tom seemed so effortless that night. With too much alcohol in your system, you found yourself completely flustered by how pretty he was with his glazed eyes, rosy cheeks, and the constant giggles escaping his lips.

Though nothing ever happened that night, you found yourself spending more and more time with Tom in the coming weeks. Harrison didn’t mind as his relationship was truly flourishing with Grace. Weeks later, Tom had finally kissed you out of the blue and it changed everything. He was leaving for a few more weeks for filming, and instead of gaining the guts to make it official that night, he waited until he came back. It was the first thing he asked you when you reunited.

But, it wasn’t as simple as that. The logistics, the orchestrating, there was so much planning involved with what felt like should just be simple. Tom had fans, and sometimes they weren’t so nice. Tom wanted to protect you in every way possible. Though it was obvious you’d been hanging with the guys, since some of them had posted you, you had just figured that if you went out in public, you’d all go together and you couldn’t spend too much time just next to Tom. Posts were limited, it was all planned to a T. But you didn’t mind, because Tom made you happy and you knew it was for the best.

For a while, you did long distance. Your relationship had been based off of late night or early morning FaceTime calls, quick calls in between breaks, and short text messages throughout the day. It was hard but worth it. But this last time didn’t last near as long as others.

When word of COVID swept through the news, the world became frantic in all aspects. When everything began going into lockdown, Tom was sent straight back home from filming.

———————————

Laughter erupted between Harry, Tuwaine, and you. Tuwaine had showed you a both a video on TikTok he came across of a girl dancing in the midst of her friends to the song Heartbreak Anniversary. Though her coordination was obviously great, it was the reactions and how aggressive she was doing the dance that made it so funny.

As if on cue, Tom, Harrison, and Sam walked into the kitchen, Harrison mentioning that they couldn’t hear their program over their laughing. That’s when they found themselves gathered around the phone, joining in the laugher.

“I think we should recreate it. I think Y/N should learn the dance and be in the middle. It’ll be too good.” Harry said. “Me?” A nervous laugh escaping your lips. “For sure, we learn dances so fast, you’ll have it down in no time.” Harry was right - over the last few months, you’d formed certain hobbies with each of the boys. You had became just as close with them as Tom was, and one thing you and Harry found yourselves doing often was learning dances in the backyard, most likely disrupting the neighbors from your obnoxious cussing and laughter.

After protesting the dance, the guys had won and you were now practicing the dance. You felt so dumb, you couldn’t help but laugh. You didn’t allow the boys to see it so that when you videod, it would be their fresh reactions. And that’s what it was -

The boys circled around you, ready to endure the dancing. Right before, Tom had pulled you aside and reiterated not focusing that much time on him, though he wanted you to. You agreed, understanding the circumstances considering the world still was unaware of your relationship. To everyone else, you were just some friend that came to hang out every now and then.

So when the music started, you kept that little rule in the back of your mind. You tried to spend enough time with each, trying to make them laugh which definitely worked. You added your own flair to the dance, leaning back towards each of them, causing them to spit out laughter. You still found a moment with Tom, because it’d be too obvious that you were not trying to be obvious if you didn’t (haha).

Afterwards, the guys laughed over your shoulder as they watched their own reactions. “You killed that!” Sam exclaimed.

Hours later, you all sat in the living room, engrossed in your own thing - television, telephone, reading, someone was doing something. That’s when Tuwaine busted out laughing. “Shit, these comments are ruthless!” “Hmm?” You said, not even thinking to go check on the video you’d posted. When you opened up the app, Tom was looking over your shoulder to look for himself.

“Yeah, Harrison and Y/N are def fucking”

“Y/N and Haz 👀👀👀”

“Look at the way Haz looks at her 😍 obvi in love”

The comments continued. You cocked your head, watching back at the video. There was nothing much different between your interactions other than he was laughing the most - but that was just Haz. You shook your head, laughing as everyone but Tom joined it.

“Dang, Y/N, didn’t know we cared so much about each other!” Harrison said, giggling. “Right, just so in love!” You jokingly fell back into the couch, but soon noticed that Tom was barely participating in the jokes. Instead, he was leaning back, barely cracking a smile, even when you tugged his arm. You tried to shake off his reaction, not expecting him to actually be upset.

—————————

“I think I’m going to shower, wanna join?” You pulled out some sweatpants from the drawer that you’d claimed. “Why don’t you go ask Harrison?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Excuse me?” Tom stayed silent. A nervous laugh escaped your lips, in hopes that his words were only joking but the straight face he was giving, along with no eye contact, made it clear that he was not joking.

“Are you being serious right now?” You asked quietly. You felt yourself beginning to get upset, considering you had never given him a reason to believe that for one, you’d ever cheat, and for two, that you and Harrison had ever had sex. He was well aware of the friendship that you had before Tom came along, and not only was it strictly platonic, but Grace had been in the picture the whole time.

Tom finallt replied with a shrug, which elicited rolling eyes from you. “You’re unbelievable.” You slammed the door to the bedroom, slamming the bathroom door across the hall. It may have been absurd, but in that moment you honestly were shocked. You and Tom had never really argued about something like this before - it just never showed itself as a problem. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been rumored dating each one of the boys before anyway, you didn’t know what was different.

Harrison had obviously heard the slamming of the doors, including the other boys who surrounded him. Sam pushed the television, looking around at the group, who was already exchanging looks. “Nose goes.” Tuwaine said, instantly pinning his finger to his nose, the rest of the boys following. Harrison was the last to reach his nose. “Aw, come on. You know this is probably about me.” Harrison whispered. “Guess you gotta find out.” Harry replied, shrugging.

Harrison slowly made his way to Tom’s room, slowly knocking before opening the door. Tom was laying on the bed on his phone, seeming that he was not phased by the events that seemed to have just occurred. “Tom?” “Hmm?” “What’s going on?” Harrison asked, inching closer to the bed.

Tom laid his phone on his chest with a smirk. “Why don’t you go find out?” “Seriously, Tom? Are we twelve right now?” Harrison huffed back, crossing his arms. When Tom didn’t reply, Harrison felt like tugging his hair out. It wasn’t very often that the two lads argued, but Harrison honestly couldn’t believe that THIS is what the argument was about this time.

Harrison made it clear time and time again before Tom and you had started dating that you two had been platonic from the beginning. Harrison loved you like a sister, but never anything more. Tom was well aware of that - so he didn’t understand why he was lashing out?

“Look, mate. I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but I can guarantee you, that if you keep on, Y/N isn’t going to like it. You have no right to take it out on her. You know she wouldn’t do that to you in a million years, hell, you know I’d never do that to you in a million years. If you want to be mad, be mad at me, though you have no true reason to be. Fans make assumptions all the time. You can’t possibly be upset when you’re the one who continues to vow her as a secret to the world. You orchestrate every plan with her to make sure that it looks like you’re not dating, so yeah, people might get skeptical. I’m sorry that you’re feeling insecure right now, but you have no right to accuse her of anything.” Harrison had no intentions of giving a speech, but he knew that it had to be said. Tom just looked at him, and for the first time, Harrison couldn’t get a read on him.

Harrison made his way out of the room, almost colliding with you as you came out of the bathroom. Harrison gave you a sympathetic smile before going back to the living room. Confused as to what had just happened in Tom’s room, you took a deep breath before opening the door. There was no doubt that you were still upset, but you also were bothered about the fact that this came so suddenly. Or had it? Had he been so skeptical before and you’d just never caught on? How could he not trust you?

As you walked in, Tom laid on his side away from you. You let out a small sigh, placing your dirty clothes in the hamper and walking over to the bed. “Tom?” No answer. “Can we talk?” Though you couldn’t see around him, Tom squeezed his eyes shut at those words. He finally turned over. “Hey.” You said. “Hey.”

You assumed an apology would come after that, but it never did. You tried to be reasonable. “I get it.” “Hm?” “I get it. I’m sorry that you’re feeling like this. I can’t say there haven’t been times I’ve gotten a little jealous or scared or insecure when you’re miles and miles away. But I’m right here. You have nothing to worry about.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted that way towards you.” “It’s okay, but you have to trust me. We’ve been together over a year now and this conversation has never came up. Why now?”

Tom took a minute to gather his words. He let out a slow shaky breath. “I don’t know how to put it into words. When I’m away, I long to be back home with you. It seems so simple to know that I get to home and you’re here for me. So, now that I’m home for longer than a week, I recognize that you have developed these amazing friendships with people who can be here for you more than me, and sometimes it just feels unreal that I have you - like I don’t deserve you. I just love you so much that the thought of you being with someone else ever hurts me, and I think that’s why the comments got to me so much this time. Y/N, I think I’m ready to tell the world. I’m tired of keeping you a secret. I want to show the world you’re mine, I want to be the one they make those comments about. Ridiculous, huh?” Tom let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

You grabbed his hands, shaking your head. “Babe, if it weren’t for Harrison, we wouldn’t be here. The relationships I’ve grown with everyone is over our shared love of you. We are so grateful that we can be altogether in each other’s presence and enjoy it because we all have a shared love. You’re so important to all of us, and that’s just how it works. I’m ready to tell the world if you are. I’d love nothing more than to finally call you mine publicly… and maybe go on a date outside of our backyard when this pandemic ends.” You say with a grin. He pulls you on top of him, laying a slow kiss on your lips. “You’re so important to me. Let’s show the world how much.”

[hopelesshawks]

Ash and Dust Part 7- Opportunities

18+ Dabi x fem!reader

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Masterlist Help Lulu (Kofi)

Waking up the morning after reclaiming your bedroom (at least in part) is jarring for two reasons.

The first is that you’re waking up next to Dabi.

For some reason you thought he might wake up before you, even though he’s pretty routinely demonstrated that he’s not an early riser. Perhaps you expected the knowledge that he was sleeping in the same bed as you to perturb him enough to get him up early. Instead your eyelashes had fluttered open to find him still deeply asleep with his face only a few inches from yours.

You fully intended on simply rolling over to either fall back asleep or get on with your day but you’d found yourself enthralled with his sleeping face instead. You know Dabi’s smirks, sneers, and scowls like the back of your hand after a little over a month of living with him. His resting face, however, is entirely foreign to you. You’ve never had a moment alone with him where he wasn’t antagonizing you and it’s odd to see him so peaceful. Your eyes trace over his face, taking in the extent of the scarring on his jaw and beneath his eyes, but also appreciating the unmarred expanses of skin as well. It strikes you that Dabi is pretty. It shouldn’t be surprising considering what you’ve seen of the youngest Todoroki in the press but even still. In another world where he’d never become the wanted criminal he is today, you wonder if he’d be a heartbreaker or a sweet, gentle type. Would he be as quiet and polite as his brother seems to be or would he still get a thrill from bantering with someone who isn’t afraid to banter right back? Would he be in the tabloids with a different girl every week or settle down early with his high school sweetheart? You’re fascinated by the idea of what the scarred man before you would be without the tragedy and the trauma. You might’ve sat there just taking him in until he woke up if not for the second reason waking up that morning was so jarring.

Your phone has been pinging literally non-stop.

You’ve never resented your notification sound more as its shrill tone continues to echo in your room, putting the fragile peace at risk. Even before you found yourself as alone as you are now your phone was never this busy. As much as you try to ignore it and wait for the tidal wave of what you assume are spam notifications to end, the sound finally drives you to turn over and grab it. Your eyes widen as you take in the sheer amount of Twitter notifications you have. As you unlock your phone and navigate over to the app your mentions are literally flooded with Deku fans screaming about your talent and how lucky you are. It’s a confusing litany of fangirling that you try to weed through until you get to one mention in particular that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You got a mention from the rising hero himself.

Holy shit.

You’ve never clicked a tweet so quickly in your entire life. Not only are you stunned to find he’s seen and loved your work but he also mentions wanting to talk if you’re interested. Sure enough, when you navigate over to the messages section of the app, a feature you’ve never bothered to use, you notice a message request from Midoriya ‘Deku’ Izuku waiting for you. It takes everything in you not to scream as you read the message there over and over before finally hopping out of bed and moving to the kitchen to call the number he’d left you. It’s a little endearing that he’d been so quick to hand out his number to a complete stranger on the internet but you also can’t help but wonder how someone so naive could be the same man drawing headlines over his heroics and combat skill. You’re not exactly a Deku fangirl but it’s still wild to be dialing a celebrity’s number as you punch in the numbers and then wait for it to ring.

On literally the second ring the phone is answered. “Pro Hero Deku at your service! Who’s calling?” the young man answers chirpily. “Uhh, this is (y/l/n)? You messaged me on twitter?” “Oh! Right! Yes! Hello! One second!”

You can hear Deku excusing himself from whatever room he’s in, a disgruntled voice mumbling something you can’t hear, causing Deku to reply with a hushed “Sorry Kacchan! I’ll be right back!” before there’s more shuffling and finally the sound of a heavy door closing.

“Ok I’m back! Thanks for reaching out to me so quickly!” he finally says now that he’s, apparently, in a better place to talk.

“Yea, of course I guess I’m just shocked you liked my art so much and really appreciate you drawing so much attention to it,” you explain, feeling short of breath at how surreal the situation is.

“Of course! You’re really talented! Your work deserves to get attention!”

“Thank you but, uh, why exactly did you want me to call you?”

“Right! It’s about your artwork.”

“Ok?”

“I want to sell it!”

“What?”

“Wait well no not sell it. Or not sell that particular piece although it is a nice piece and if you wanted to theoretically you could probably sell it although I guess it’s available for free online already so maybe people wouldn’t want to pay for it. Although it’s a painting right? And people buy or pay to go see paintings you can see online all the time so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad but if it’s for your own enjoyment you may not want to give it up which would be totally understandable and also how would that work logistically? If the painting is rather large it may be unwieldy to try and ship it to whoever purchases it, in which case would you have to meet up to try and give it to them by hand? But then that necessitates meeting up with a complete stranger on the internet and what if the person who buys it doesn’t live near you or, since it is the internet, doesn’t even live in Japan? Then you have to contend with international shipping and-”

“Uhh, Deku?” you ask cautiously, barely able to process the mumbling of the young man on the phone.

“Ah! Sorry! I can kinda end up on tangents sometimes... What I mean to say is that I’m not trying to sell the painting you posted or anything but I think you’re really talented as an artist and one of my friends is looking for someone to design a new merch collection.”

One of his friends? Your mind instantly starts running through his impressive list of ex classmates. Your first thought is Dynamight and immediately you shudder at the idea. He may be years younger than you but the aggressive pro hero still scares the shit out of you. Uravity could be an interesting hero to work with although you’re not quite sure you vibe with her aesthetic. Or maybe he’s talking about the new Ingenium?

“You’re real fucking loud in the mornings, you know that Doll?” Dabi asks with a groan as he comes walking into the room with a stretch.

You hurry to shush him, not wanting to lose the opportunity being presented to you, which earns you a curious look. Before you can react Dabi is snatching your phone out of your hand and putting it on speaker. You don’t dare protest verbally and risk alerting Deku of the situation so you have to settle for glaring at Dabi as he smirks at you.

“Yea so, anyway, Shouto really needs new merch but wanted something a little more sophisticated on the designs and I feel like you’d be perfect for that you know? Making all his stuff mini works of art. So what do you say?” Deku asks, his voice still brimming with that same enthusiasm while your blood runs cold. You’re genuinely scared to look up at Dabi’s face to see what he thinks about the idea of you working with his little brother. You hold your breath, Deku’s chipper voice going nervous as he asks “Hello? You still there?”

To your immense surprise, when you finally have the courage to bring your eyes up to meet Dabi’s, he’s got an almost feral grin. “You better take the fucking job,” he hisses delightedly, sending a chill down your spine as you stutter out a response to Deku, your eyes never leaving Dabi’s.

“Yea, sorry just processing. I’d, uh, I’d be happy to help out.”

“Great! I’ll pass your number on to Shouto and you two can meet up and figure out details!”

“Ok.”

“Cool, thanks (y/l/n)! Hopefully I’ll see you around!”

You hum noncommittally before hanging up the phone, still waiting for the other shoe to drop as you practically watch the gears turning in Dabi’s head.

“You’re…. Not mad I’m going to be working with your brother?” you ask cautiously.

“Oh no, I’m fucking delighted Doll. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna help me have a little fun.”

A/N: We are finally starting to get to the meat of the story omg. I’m sorry this fic has been so slow going, especially compared to my others, but if you stick with I’m pretty sure it’ll be worth it. I appreciate each and every one of y’all that’s been reading this fic because main motivation to write it has been hard

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, semi-public sex, foodplay, a lot of sloppy making out, creampie is not the only type of dessert involved, very soft dom!jin, sub!reader, unprotected sex but who’s surprised, dom!hoseok, waxplay, painplay, very explicit discussion about consent since waxplay is technically edgeplay, restraints, cuffs, flogging, hobi in his element is a kink in and of itself, degradation, discipline, subspace, scratching, rough sex, hoseok going the extra mile honestly, still unprotected sex, cumshot

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and sponsored by the red room

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

The vote is at the end of this chapter.

DAY TWENTY

Though it’s the weekend (as if that has any real significance when you aren’t really working) you wake up tragically early, before the sun’s even risen.

Unsure of what woke you, you rub your eyes and duck your head out into the hallway. To your surprise, there’s the distinct yellowish glow from a light on downstairs. It’s hard to walk down the stairs when your head is full of cotton, your eyes still bleary and your mouth constantly stretched in a yawn, but finally you stumble down into the main space.

Frozen, with a metal spoon hanging out of his mouth and his eyes wide and red, is the oldest man of the house. He leans dejectedly against the kitchen counter, haunting a tub of ice cream that’s definitely not intended for one person. You quickly realise what may have woken you is the obnoxious whir of the microwave, something in a covered glass jar twirling round and round inside.

“What-” you swallow and clear your throat when the word comes out croaky, “what are you doing here so early? Are you okay?”

Still startled by your presence, he blinks a few times and removes the spoon from his mouth, letting it clatter to the table. “I’ve been better.”

Your face drops in sympathy, ignoring the freezing tile on your feet as you approach him. Without waiting for permission, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close to you in a tight hug. “What’s up, Jinnie? You can be honest with me. If you let me have some of your ice cream, of course.”

That manages to pull a weak laugh from him as he hands you the spoon and ruffles your hair. “I am, as it turns out,” he explains, “incredibly stupid.”

“Ah.” You dig into the tub of ice cream one handed, dislodging a chunk of what looks like brownie. “First of all, I disagree, but more importantly, why do you think that?”

“Do you have an hour?” Jin sighs at the poor attempt at lightening his own mood. “To tell you the truth, and this may come as a shock to you, but-”

“Is this about Yoongi and you fucking?”

Jin pulls back, staring you down with a bewildered expression.

You swallow a cold mouthful, furrowing your brows apologetically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. Go on.”

“I- How did you- Who knows?”

You hum for a minute, tapping the end of the spoon against your lips. “Oh, I’d imagine everyone,” you summarise. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit.” You wince as you recall a few particular evenings. “Nor is volume control.”

“Right.” Jin has the good grace to look sheepish at that, but gently tugs the spoon back. The microwave beeps noisily behind you, and he curses, rushing over to pull the jar out. “Anyways, yes, Yoongi and I have been casual for a short time now, but things are messy. And I suppose I sort of thought they were good messy, but last night I realised how very not-good messy they were. I haven’t been fair to Yoongi. Or you.”

You tilt your head, watching him uncover a lightly steaming jar full of what looks and smells like caramel. “Me? What does this have to do with me?”

Jin opens his mouth, grimaces, and closes it again. After a few moments of silence where he stirs the sauce and tastes a bit of it, he finally faces you to speak. “After the fight, you didn’t really...say anything about what you found out. My feelings for you, I mean. Not that you were at all obligated to, of course, but I wanted to give you space. And… I wanted to have space too, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so when Yoongi expressed interest in me, I thought him and I could help each other out.”

He pours some of the sauce directly into the tub of icecream, but then puts it down and rests his forearms on the countertop, really leans his whole body weight onto them like it’s hard to stay standing. “Yoongi has feelings for me,” he explains. “I don’t know if you know that too, but- yeah. He said- even as recently as yesterday, he said he was fine, but I should know better. It’s irresponsible of me to take his words as gospel when I can so clearly see, as his friend and as a trained therapist, that he isn’t okay.”

You want to wait until he’s said his piece, but your chest feels hot, like your ribs are smouldering coals. You can’t stop your tongue. “I don’t need space.”

Jin blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t need space,” you repeat in a warm voice, “I don’t want you to be distant. Fuck Yoongi if you want, but don’t do it just because you’re avoiding me. You’re right; that isn’t fair to either of us.”

“I know,” he concedes, shoveling another spoonful of melted ice cream and sauce into his mouth to buy him some thinking time. “It’s getting out of hand, too. Just yesterday Jungkook asked to join and- God, this is such a mess. I should end it, shouldn’t I?”

Your tongue tingles with the urge to press about Jungkook. Feeling like that isn’t really Jin’s priority right now, you change tact. “Do you want to end it?”

Jin furrows his brows, deep in thought. Clad in blue and white striped pyjamas, his face seems far too serious for his attire, but it’s clear this is really eating away at him if he’s up so early thinking about it. Had he even gone to bed at all? “I don’t want to,” he admits, “being with Yoongi is so easy. And not like- not logistically, I’m not saying Yoongi is easy, but… God, I don’t know how to say this without it being soppy. It feels right. But at what point do I stop doing what I want and start thinking about others? I need to do what’s best for Yoongi.”

It’s hard conveying any semblance of intelligent thought when you probably have not even half of the whole story, but you do your best for him. “Is that a decision you should be making on his behalf, though? I feel like you should be having this conversation with him.”

Jin sighs, placing the spoon down so it doesn’t clatter. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been going over and over it in my head. My reasons for sleeping with him aren’t all noble or genuine or even fair. And I know he has feelings for me. I think if I let this continue I’ll be hurting him. So surely ending it is the right thing to do?”

You mull it over a moment. “It seems like you already know the answer, Jin,” you offer up softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Jin bites his lip, eyes distant. “If I text him, if I tell him that we need to talk, or that we shouldn’t do it anymore, then… You said you didn’t need space. So can we talk? About us?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, though your heart rate quickens at the thought, “that’s probably for the best, too.”

“Alright.” Jin wipes his hands on his shirt pants, whether it’s to get off the stickiness of the dessert or sweat you don’t know, but soon enough he’s slipping his phone out and hunkering down on the kitchen tile floor.

You join him, scooching up so that your shoulders bump. With your back against the cabinets and your lower half on those icy tiles, normally you’d be shivering. But Jin’s body is like a radiator, and he leans into you as he unlocks his phone and pulls up Yoongi’s contact.

For his privacy, you try not to look, but you can’t help but notice the name for Yoongi is Min City, and that their recent texts are calls for late-night rendezvous. Jin takes a deep breath, his thumbs hovering over the keypad. “What do I even say?” he muses out loud. “I’m a therapist; why can’t I even work out a good ‘we should talk’ text?”

You hook your hand under his arm, tucking it to your side. “Start off by apologising for texting him at ass o’clock in the morning,” you jibe.

Jin pauses. “I’ll probably rephrase,” he admits, “but that’s solid.”

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. |

“Okay, what next?” Jin says in a shortened breath.

You let out a light laugh. “This is your message,” you remind him, “but fine. How about this? Tell him that you’ve been thinking a lot, which you have, and that you just can’t keep sleeping with him in good conscience because you don’t feel like it’s wise. And maybe, like, tell him to come find you when he reads it so you can have a proper chat. It shouldn’t just be done over text, you know?”

“That’s true… Okay, here goes.” Jin swallows hard as he types away, and were it not for the fact that these were your friends who were involved, you’d laugh at the cheesiness of the moment. Like something off a trashy k-drama, though your life felt more and more like one every day anyway.

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. i’ve been doing a lot of thinking after our talk, and i just really don’t think us doing this is a good idea anymore. please let me know when you get this. we can talk it over a bit. |

“Is that all I need?”

You shrug. “I guess so. Unless you wanna add an ‘xoxo’ to the end of it.”

Jin bites his lip. “That may send mixed messages.”

“It was a joke, Jinnie,” you protest, shoving him playfully. “Anyway, are you gonna send i-”

A loud ding cuts you off, echoing slightly in the otherwise silent house. Above the box of text Jin had been crafting, a new strip of grey appears.

The both of you freeze, staring in disbelief at the screen. “Did he just..?” Before you can even finish that sentence, a second chime rings out again, and the screen shifts to display more grey, slightly smaller than the first.

“Looks like,” Jin murmurs, scrolling up to view the new message. “Holy shit.”

I’m sure you’re still asleep jin-hyung, so just text me when you get this but yesterday i was lying when i said i was fine, because i’m really not and jungkook has really helped to give me a little perspective so i’m sorry if you still need someone to distract you but i’m not gonna be that someone anymore

No hard feelings btw, i still feel the same way about you but i don’t think we should have sex for a while, i just need some distance. I like to think that you’d want me to put myself first and i’m doing that now. I hope you can understand

“That… I guess that’s that sorted,” Jin says slowly, tapping the screen to delete his message. “Should I reply now?” He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he locks the phone. “No, I’ll wait until later. He won’t be expecting a reply now, anyway. Hopefully he can get some sleep.” His eyes turn sad. “Do you think he was up all night stressing about that?”

“Hey,” you warn lowly, “don’t guilt yourself. The two of you can straighten things out later, and sleep better tonight. Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He releases a slow breath, his body heavy with unshed tension. For a moment, the two of you stay silent, you giving him time to process. When he speaks, he shuffles his whole body around to face you. “I know why you’ve been so hesitant,” he announces suddenly.

You frown. “Wait, what? Hesitant?”

“Yes,” he insists, “you haven’t really talked at all about if you return my feelings. I used to feel really confused and hurt by it, but I get it now.”

Your stomach rolls strangely, a feeling like being caught red-handed. “What do you mean?”

“Last night,” he explains, “I came up to tell everyone that dinner wasn’t far away. You weren’t in your room, and Taehyung wasn’t in his…” He trails off meaningfully, and realisation settles in your bones, not shock, but resignation.

“Oh.” You swallow, sitting up so you’re no longer leaning towards him. “You saw us? In Jimin’s room?”

“I won’t tell,” he begins automatically, “and it’s okay. I see that you’ve been answered for already. I’ll respect that.”

“It isn’t like that,” you say reflexively, “we - god, we weren’t supposed to let anyone know, I can’t believe we didn’t lock the door - but we aren’t together together. It would be too messy, and it was putting a strain on our relationships with everyone else, you know?”

Jin frowns, like he’s trying to work it all out. “So it isn’t a romantic relationship?”

You smile thinking of Taehyung’s loving brown eyes and Jimin’s gentle embrace. “It’s a promise,” you explain softly, wrapping your arms around your torso. “We aren’t making any commitments or ties now, and we obviously can’t be exclusive, so it’s a promise that once we’re out of here, we’ll try and explore our feelings. Do it right.”

The therapist takes in a deep breath, nodding. “Then where do I fit into all of this? Does that mean I have a chance?”

“I-” You bite your lip, avoiding his imploring gaze. “It would feel wrong getting into a relationship when I’d decided that I wouldn’t do it with them. If that makes sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he assures, “but that’s not what I mean. I don’t need to be in a relationship with you to treat you right, Y/n. I just want to know if there’s a chance in hell that you return my feelings.”

You lift your eyes at this, staring at the way his soften in response. Your heart thuds in your chest and there’s a liquid relief pumping through your veins that he’s willing to stay by you. If you didn’t already know it before, those sensations certainly make it clear. “I like you, Jin. A lot.”

He smiles in relief, a small and sweet one that makes his eyes crinkle. Rather than responding verbally, he slips one large palm around the nape of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss.

Eyes slipping shut the moment he comes close, you reach out blindly for him and fist your hand in the thin fabric of his pyjamas to steady yourself. His lips are so plush, and moving so slowly, that it feels like they could slow down time itself. There’s no urgency in the sensual way he kisses you, but you can nonetheless taste his elation sweeter than the remnants of caramel on his tongue.

In that same way, you have no idea how much time passes with your mouths locked together, slowly warming the kitchen floor with your body heat until your skin feels on fire. Even the slightest details, like his fingertips on the back of your neck and your inner wrist make you dizzy.

You break apart for air, still clinging to him like you’d drown without his touch. Panting, you try to slow your racing heart. Your lips still tingle, and reach up to brush your fingers against them in wonder. “Oh, wow,” you whisper dumbly.

Jin smiles, then, a brilliant one that warms his whole face. “Wow,” he repeats. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you like that for a long time, Y/n.”

Barely able to think, you find your eyes slipping down to his lips, how swollen they are, dusky pink. “You can do it again, if you want.”

Jin goes to lean forward, but halts, looking up to the countertop. “One sec,” he hedges, “I’m determined to continue my opportunist streak.”

“Your what?” You chuckle at first, but as he reaches up and drags the jar of caramel sauce down, your eyes quickly widen in realisation.

Jin catches your look, sending you a wink. “Open up,” he instructs, and you drop your jaw without hesitation, anticipation heightening your senses.

When he tips the lip of the container forward, and you feel that warm sweetness burst on your tongue, you moan, tilting your head back so it pools in your mouth. But instead of stopping, he continues to pour, until you feel it threaten to spill out. “Too much,” you try to say, but you can’t move your tongue or lips enough to enunciate it.

Jin only pulls the jar away when it begins to drip down your chin, and like a man starved, he leans in and licks into your mouth without abandon.

You moan as you feel his tongue cut through the molten sugar, running over yours, over your teeth and lips and even ducking down to messily swipe up the stickiness on your face. No matter how much he ravishes you, the moment you begin to kiss back, your tongue lifts and a thick wave of hot caramel slips between your mouths, no doubt getting on your pyjama shirt.

Jin doesn’t seem to care; on the contrary, he moans and clasps your face in both hands, nipping at your lips and deepening the kiss more than you even thought possible. Slowly, the sweetness of caramel gives way to his own taste, and you’re left licking each other filthily, entwined together on the kitchen floor.

Once your chest is aching with a lack of oxygen, you pull away with a gasp, wincing at the weird feeling of caramel on your chest. “So messy,” you groan, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d pour so much.”

Jin’s eyes just light up with mirth. “Messy is the point, baby. We probably have, what-” he pauses to consult the time on the microwave, “two hours before the early risers are up? Why don’t we make an even bigger mess? I’ve decided I’d like to have my dessert first.”

You press your lips together to prevent a moan, nodding frantically. “Fuck, please. I want you.”

The therapist’s chest hitches, but he reaches out to squeeze your thigh. “Lie back, then, baby. Can you take your shirt off for me?”

You’re in such a hurry to obey him, shivering violently at the cold tile against your bare back, that when you suddenly feel a cold burst on your chest you jump, getting a fright.

There’s not enough time to feel that burst of ice, however, as a hot tongue quickly laps it up, collecting every last drop. Jin even sucks the skin there, just above the swell of your breast, to make sure he’s cleaned you up.

You writhe on the floor, your panties uncomfortably soaked, but Jin just throws a leg and an arm over you, straddling you and caging you against the floor. His weight against you makes you moan, that delicious sensation of being trapped exactly where you most want to be.

This time, when he digs his spoon into the slightly-melted ice cream, he pops it into his mouth instead of on your skin. You almost assume he’s just taking some for himself, but then he’s dipping his head and wrapping those sinful lips around one of your nipples, making you cry out.

The cold is immediately overwhelming, tightening and stiffening your peak, and the dizzying mix of his hot tongue with that cold dessert has you clinging to his back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “F-fuck, Jin,” you gasp, “so cold.”

“Is it?” Jin quips, his hand reaching to his side. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby.”

Without giving you a moment’s respite, he’s drizzling trails of caramel over your breasts, and lapping it up with ravenous enthusiasm. Though the caramel has gone mostly room-temperature, the contrast against your cooled nipple just makes it feel that much more electric, and you arch your back harshly until Jin finally reaches it and soothes it with his mouth.

You moan, wishing you had something to rut against, some type of friction where you needed it most, but Jin’s more focused on licking, nipping and sucking the sugar off of your body, leaving you trembling. “More,” you plead needily.

“More sauce? More ice cream?” he asks, panting as his own arousal presses stiffly against your lower stomach.

“More you,” you beg, arching up into him, making him curse lowly.

Like desperate virgins, you both quickly discard the last of your clothing, Jin just about popping the buttons of his shirt clean off, and it feels simultaneously like a second and a century before you feel his familiar girth pressing into you, stretching your dripping walls.

You groan, the back of your head knocking against the tile as you go slack, letting yourself focus fully on the sensation of him filling you up. “Fuck, Jin,” you gasp out, legs wrapping around his torso as he goes deeper and deeper.

When he bottoms out, however, Jin doesn’t begin fucking you straight away. Instead, he reaches for the jar. “Tongue out, baby,” he instructs.

Swallowing the drool that gathers in your mouth from the pleasure, you stick out your tongue until you feel it on your chin, awaiting the stream. Clearly wanting to be as messy as possible, Jin intentionally lifts his hand higher so that instead of a mouthful, you get whippings of sugar all over your neck, chin, and cheeks. Hardly any actually makes it in your mouth, but the therapist just chuckles and puts the jar beside him, bending down to run his tongue in a broad swipe up your cheek.

You squeal, turning your head to the side, but the surprise quickly bubbles into arousal as he laps up every last drop, sucking hickies into your neck all the way. The longer he goes, the more you need him, wetter and wetter around his cock. Rocking your hips just to get some friction, you whine into the silence of the kitchen. “Jin, fuck me already,” you plead.

Jin’s first thrust punches all the air out of you. He snaps his hips hard enough to push your body forward from the tile, then grabs your waist with a low growl, pinning you against the floor.

Though the tiles are still cold, your body heat is quickly taking the edge off, and being fucked against such a hard surface is a new feeling to you entirely. There’s no give, no bounce. When Jin begins fucking you at a greedy pace, you feel every inch of him stretching you open.

Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, trying not to moan loud enough that the sound would travel upstairs, but barely able to even contain them at all. “Fucking me so go-mmf!” Your mouth is filled with a cold intruder, and you suck hard, swirling your tongue around the two fingers covered with ice cream. Jin curses lowly at the feeling, and suddenly he’s picking up the pace even more.

You cry out around his fingers, hands flailing to find something to latch onto and anchor yourself, but your knuckles whack into something solid. The ache in your fingers is quickly drowned out by the sudden rush of thick wetness on your stomach, and your eyes fly open, choking on Jin’s digits.

His thrusts slow down and he pulls his hand away and before you can say a single thing, the room is filled with the contagious sound of his laughter. Cock still buried deep inside you, and one hand dripping with caramel, holding onto the near-empty jar, Jin howls, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Hey!” you whine, pouting when the caramel disperses over you, soon dripping down onto your back and the floor. “Don’t laugh at me! You wouldn’t like it if your chest was drenched in caramel!”

Jin discards the jar beside him with a sticky clink, and composes himself, though that glint still remains alight in his eyes. “Oh, wouldn’t I?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he’s bending down until your chests are pressed together, separated only by that slippery layer of sauce.

A muffled squeak leaves your lips when he captures them again, his fingers scratching lines up your sides, making you shiver. You try to protest his attempt at tickling you while you were vulnerable, but then he’s rocking his hips, shallow strokes that grind into you so deep.

You moan, wrapping your arms around his back. Every time you feel his nails cutting through the syrup, you scratch his back. Instead of deterring him, however, he just groans into your mouth and doubles his efforts at fucking you.

Slowly, his hands move around from your sides to your back, and you cling to him tighter as he lifts you off the kitchen floor. Still delving his tongue deep into your mouth, he pulls you up until your torso is arched against him and your head tips back slightly, a perfect halfway point between horizontal and vertical, and uses the extra momentum to thrust up into you harder. The angle hits your g-spot roughly with every snap of his hips, and your clit grinds against his cock.

You cry out and lose contact with his mouth, but he just latches it onto your neck instead, dragging his teeth over your shoulder to let the cooled caramel pool in his mouth.

“Jinnie, I’m close,” you confess in a rush, your orgasm quickly building with a pressure between your legs. Something in the way your toes curl and stomach tenses warns you that this will be a powerful one, and your cries increase in pitch and volume, every breath a moan. “Jinnie! Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-”

“Make another mess for me, baby,” Jin groans, and with those words alone your vision goes white.

Jin curses when you lock up around him - legs and arms and pussy alike - but continues to rut against you as you ride the churning wave of your high. Burying your head into the crook of his neck so that you don’t wake the others with your keening scream, you feel a sudden burst inside you that leaves you trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

You feel Jin’s chin pressing into your hair as he glances down, grunting with exertion, and suddenly he’s freezing, holding you tightly to him as he cums inside of you.

The warmth of him filling you is the perfect soother as you come down from that intense climax, and you sigh as he leans forward, lying you back down on the kitchen tile. The two of you fight to catch your breath, the only sounds in the room your joint gasps.

Above you, Jin’s chest heaves, dripping with caramel just like yours must be. He doesn’t take any bother though, wiping away the sweat on his brow with a clean patch of his forearm. “Man,” he exclaims with a cheery chuckle, “you really did make a mess, huh?”

“What?” you ask blearily, weakly propping yourself up on your elbows to glance down. Thinner and clearer than the caramel, a liquid drips over yours and Jin’s stomachs, running down to the tile. You’d squirted. With a weak groan, you let yourself collapse back onto the sticky floor. “It’s too early for this,” you whine. “Oh, god. We have to clean this up.”

Jin’s smile is wiped clear off his face. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t even think about that, my notes didn’t mention it…”

“Your notes?” you ask curiously, grimacing when Jin slowly pulls himself out of you, a stream of cum following and joining the mess of liquids on the floor. “What notes?”

The therapist lets out a nervous laugh as he gets up off the floor, grabbing a clean dish cloth from the bottom drawer. “I did some research, that’s all. Like, no spicy stuff near any mucous membranes because of the sting, no sugar in the vulva otherwise you might get a yeast infection-”

“Eugh,” you cut in, “I’m glad you did the research, but that just makes me want a shower even more now.”

“Go shower, then,” Jin allows with a sympathetic smile, wetting the cloth and beginning to wipe off the stickiness on his chest. “I can clean this up for you.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist, “I’ll quickly wash this off, but I’m coming back down to help you. The sun’s about to rise, so if we work together, maybe there won’t still be cummy sauce all over the floor when the others come down for breakfast.”

“It is probably a safety hazard,” Jin admits. “Okay, then, we’ll clean it together. I’ll have a quick shower once you get back.”

You beam up at him but, before you grab your clothes and rush up the stairs, you rise onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to his sugared lips. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Jin returns your warm smile, ducking down to steal another kiss, and another, and another until you’re giggling and ducking away. “I’ll do my best.”

--

“You aren’t being particularly subtle.”

Hoseok shrugs at Yoongi. “I’m not trying to be subtle.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow. “Then tell us what’s in the box.”

Hoseok hesitates. “I’m trying to be a little bit subtle.”

Taehyung groans, reaching out for the heavy cardboard box and glaring reproachfully at Hoseok when he smacks his hand away. “Could we have a clue?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly. “No.”

“Then why is it on the table?” the masseuse whines miserably. “You’re just teasing us!”

“I don’t know why you’re so bothered,” Yoongi notes, “it’s not even for you.”

Perhaps you’d be more bemused by the antics of the boys at the table were it not for your own rampant curiosity. As usual, your days were measured by communal mealtimes (courtesy of the fact that six of you were too lazy to cook for yourselves, and the remaining too were perfectly happy to make enough for you all) but this time, as you enjoyed a pan-seared fish of some sort, the flow of the table was interrupted by the package that Hoseok had so dramatically dropped down in front of him. “What is it on the table for?” you ask in what you hope is a casual, unbothered tone.

Hoseok sighs patiently like he’s been through this before. “It’s to create an atmosphere of anticipation,” he explains importantly. “This is reality TV gold, guys, this is exactly what the editors would put a close-up of right before the ad break.”

Jin furrows his brows. “I don’t think there are ad breaks, Hobi.”

“You get what I mean,” he huffs petulantly before clearing his throat, “anyway, let’s change the topic. Any gossip? Love declarations, plot twists; what have I missed?”

Jungkook opens his mouth, beside him Yoongi quickly places a hand on his thigh, and the younger boy sinks back into his chair. “Just the usual for me.” If you weren’t already looking at him, you might have missed the slip of a smile that he presses his lips together to suppress. “Except for the extra dicks I’ve been sucking.”

“Jungkook!” Yoongi shrieks, before sitting up straight. “Wait. Dicks, plural?”

“Well, yeah, Taehyung can’t fuck Y/n anymore, so…” Jungkook deflects. Across the table, Taehyung wordlessly throws his hands in the air in a ‘what can you do?’ type gesture. “It’s like an emergency relief fund but sex,” the youngest explains, “I’m very generous like that.”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open, his breezy demeanour fading. “Hey! You only sucked my dick because you said my technique was off!”

Jungkook smiles glacially at the rest of you. “I’m a giver,” he continues, “much like Yoongi, I teach on the side.” He pouts at Taehyung. “And your technique was off!”

“It was better than your sloppy toppy!” Taehyung defends. “I wanted a blowjob, not a shower.”

“Listen,” Jin says sharply as Jungkook lets out an offended cry, “the only way you’ll ever know for sure is if you have an objective party to compare the two directly.”

Jungkook harrumps, crossing his arms. “What; are you offering?”

Jin pauses. “To have...my dick sucked twice by two very attractive and enthusiastic people? Yes, yes I am.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “You’re so on,” he threatens, “when I win, you have to let me join your stream.”

Jungkook’s already leaving the table, dragging Jin up by a handful of his hoodie. “Such a shame you’re not going to, then,” he taunts, “when you lose, you have to give me a full-body massage and no skimping on the back.”

The rest of you watch in speechless bemusement as Taehyung huffs and throws his chair back, hurrying after them. “Maybe if you didn’t slump in your chair so much, you wouldn’t have a sore back in the first place! Wait, Jungkook, not so fast, I just ate…”

Once the three have left, Yoongi clears his throat. “The gossips have left,” he states carefully, eyes serious as they watch Hoseok, “so what’s in the box?”

Hoseok giggles and claps his hands together, clearly delighted with the attention this box has given me. “You know, the more you ask, the less likely I am to show you.”

Yoongi immediately makes his expression sour, turning up his nose. “I don’t even want to see what’s inside the box,” he insists, “I don’t care at all.”

“Sure thing, hyung.”

The academic is next to have a go. With gentle eyes and shy fingers, Namjoon props his hands on the very edge of the table and looks over to Hoseok. “What if you just showed us one?” he bargains. “It just seems like such a shame to get them delivered all the way over here and not get to show more people.”

Hoseok purses his lips, still unconvinced. At the head of the table, Jimin lets out a scoff and stands up, picking his plate and cup off the table to go discard them in the dishwasher. “It’s going to be something boring,” he drawls, bending over slowly to put away the dishes, letting the table get an eyeful of the tight black jeans he’s wearing. “He’ll wrap Y/n up in rope like tinsel on a Christmas tree and call it BDSM.”

An indignant cry comes from the table as Hoseok watches Jimin reach into the fridge, pulling out a single raspberry from the fruit drawer in there, and grin rakishly at the older man. “That’s not true at all,” Hoseok defends insistently, “I’m just easing her into it. Besides; let me show you something from the box and then we’ll see what you think.”

“How- wha-?” Yoongi’s mouth drops open as Hoseok reaches for the box and uses a knife from the lunch to cut the tape down the middle. “He doesn’t even like you! Why was he the one to convince you?”

Hoseok barely takes note, shielding the opening from your eyes as he digs around inside. It’s near impossible to restrain your curiosity, but you curl your ankles around the chair legs and force yourself to stay seated as he shoves his hand in.

You hear clinks, thuds, and scrapes, before Hoseok lets out a triumphant gasp and pulls his arm up, retrieving a braided leather handle, which he lifts out of the box to reveal a whip of sorts, complete with a neat pile of clean-cut leather strips. Your eyes widen as Hoseok sets it on the table with a weighty thunk, closing the box back up.

“Too boring for you?” Hoseok asks of Jimin with a challenging stare. One finger lazily trails along one of the tails of leather, neatly folded in a gathered loop on the table, making you swallow harshly at the thought of what one of those might feel like lashing across your skin.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jimin returns to the table, inspecting it slowly. “And what are you going to do with that, big boy? Such a big flogger; I must admit, it seems like you’re overcompensating.”

Hoseok scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips. “I’ve caught you staring enough times, Peaches,” he taunts, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

This time, Jimin seems almost expectant of the nickname, and just rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you noticed, seeing as your eyes are always locked onto my ass. Bet you wish you had a handful, huh?”

Hoseok frowns, pushing himself away from the table. “Did I eat too much or did the thought of dirtying my hands with you make me physically sick?” he questions rhetorically, making Jimin huff. “Anyways, I’ve got a scene to set up. Best for last, and all that.”

With a flourish, Hoseok picks up the whip - or, as Jimin had said, flogger - handle between two fingers and throws the tail of leather strips over his shoulder, lifting the box into his arms with a light grunt of exertion. Suddenly, he turns his gaze to you, warm but firm. “The downstairs bathroom; be there in half an hour wearing your underwear and only your underwear.”

You suck in a breath when he suddenly leans in close, hoisting the box on his hip as he uses the opposite hand to reach out and fiddle with your bra strap, snapping it against your shoulder with a teasing smile. “If you want to make Master happy,” he says in a voice like crushed velvet, “pick something pretty.”

Hoseok disappears down the hallway with all the drama of a Disney villain, sans a cape to billow behind him, and Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, getting up from his chair. “Well, I’m going to go outside and try and forget about all the debauchery in here. Anyone else?”

Namjoon straightens up immediately, hips bumping against the table. “Sounds good to me,” he rushes out, still looking a little pale from seeing that sneak peek of Hoseok’s box of toys.

Jimin, on the other hand, glances up towards the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “You two go ahead,” he states, “I think the little ones upstairs could use another judge.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift, almost looking like he’s about to reconsider his choice to leave, but Namjoon is already suggesting they could bring out some board games or a pack of cards, and as usual Yoongi is softer than he likes to think he is.

Once everyone has left you alone in the living room, you slump back onto the table, letting out a breath. Your skin is already tingling relentlessly wondering what those strips of leather would feel like raining down on your skin. And that tool must have only been taking up a small portion of that box. It was heavy, full with other surprises that you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Taking a look at the time, you curse and scamper upstairs to track down something pretty for Hoseok.

--

It’s impossible to stop your mind from conjuring up countless images of what could be waiting for you. Big posts of metal or wood to tie a sub to, chains and latex and the Hollywood taboo of kink that comes to mind. But in the end, it seems trying to picture anything at all was a useless venture, as when you make it downstairs and knock on the door exactly thirty minutes after Hoseok let you, what’s inside is not anything you would have ever expected.

The bathroom itself is decently large, with flat tile all over, a row of showerheads without the luxury of cubicles, a large bath set into one corner, and a bench with a mirror.

But in the middle of the room, closer to the bench than the showers, sits Hoseok.

There’s nothing around him bar a single empty chair that he inclines his head towards, silently instructing you to sit. You glance around in suspicion, but the cardboard box is folded up just beside him and there’s nothing else to see.

Hoseok himself quite easily takes his spot as the centre of attention, though. As you sit gingerly on the wooden chair, grimacing at the scraping sound of the legs on the floor, you look him over. As usual, he makes his statement in black. Hoseok dons boots that lace up to just below his knees, tight leather pants, and a collared shirt that shimmers slightly in the light, like expensive silk. Around his middle is a belt that tightly cinches his waist, accentuating his chest and shoulders. With his hair parted and slightly curling to one side, you don’t miss the way his eyebrow quirks up. “Are you quite done?”

Your cheeks heat, and you lean back until you can feel the chair digging in. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Sorry, Sir,” you stutter out as quickly as you can, lowering your gaze.

“Dear me, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners already,” he croons with a faux look of disappointment, crossing a leg over his knee. “Lucky for you, our scene hasn’t started yet. I want to have a little conversation with you first.”

You swallow, eyes darting down to that cardboard box, curiosity eating you up from the inside. “What do you want to talk about, sir?”

Hoseok’s eyes soften slightly and he laces his fingers over the top of his knee. “You and I are going to have a talk together as two adults, princess. I know we have the consent forms and safewords, but this one requires a little more direct communication. Normally in a scene, you’d be kneeling or I’d be standing right now, but I want you to be fully aware that we are having this discussion as equals. Understood? You can ask questions, raise concerns, anything you need.”

Though your heart hasn’t stopped racing, you feel yourself beginning to calm, relieved for a chance to properly prepare yourself and see what’s going to happen. “Yes, understood. Sir.”

Hoseok’s eyes fleck with mirth as he tilts his head. “First of all; are you allergic to soy or paraffin? I know we have the allergy sheets, but I’d feel safer double-checking.”

You frown, brows knitting in confusion. “Soy? Like soy sauce? And no, I’m not allergic to either of them.”

When Hoseok smiles to reveal his teeth, you catch a glimpse of his dom side, even as he maintains a friendly disposition. “Soy candles, princess.”

A flicker of alarm rushes through you, and you clasp your hands together, fiddling your digits to keep calm. “Is this like, pouring hot wax? I don’t know, Hoseok…”

“It wasn’t a hard limit you listed,” Hoseok reminds gently, “has that changed?”

You swallow. “I- no, it hasn’t but it’s still a soft limit, and I don’t know if-”

“That’s why I wanted to sit down and have a talk with you about it,” he explains without missing a beat, “and if, at the end, you want to keep it as a limit, we’ll do something else. I don’t mind forfeiting the challenge and taking a week in the bunks; they’re perfectly comfortable.” You still don’t answer, feeling scarily vulnerable in a bra and lace panties, nothing but a loose satin robe over top to keep you a little warm and covered. Hoseok’s warm expression keeps you anchored. “Wax play isn’t explicitly pain play, it can be sensation play just like running an ice cube over your skin. And I’ve been doing it for years, princess, if you know what you’re doing, it’s perfectly safe. Do you want to hear me out? There are no obligations.”

You suck in a deep breath, taking a second to think. “I want to at least hear you first,” you decide, “but I really don’t know.”

“I understand entirely,” Hoseok says, and a strange change overtakes his face as he bends down to slip open the folds keeping the box closed. It’s a slight lifting of his brows, pursing of his lips while still being relaxed. The almost stern look of a teacher as he pulls out a weighty red candle, rolling it over in his palm. He glances back at you, presenting it. The two of you are seated close enough together that you only have to lean forward to take it from him.

He lets you look over it as he speaks, his voice soothing and practiced. “This is a pillar candle,” he explains, “see how it’s quite girthy? When you light a candle like that, the molten wax pools in the middle. So when you go to tip it, you can control how much wax you want to pour and when. Some people will have at least two candles burning so that they can alternate. These ones are soy, but I brought paraffin too in case you had an allergy.”

Out of curiosity, you dig your nail into the top, by the fresh wick, and watch thick red wax build up under the nail. “Doesn’t it burn you?” you question. “Like it got melted because of actual fire, surely it would burn.”

Hoseok shrugs. “Not with the right wax.” He takes it back from you, flipping it up to show off the base where a small white sticker displays some information about the candle in tiny print. “Soy and paraffin both tend to melt at roughly the same temperature, and it’s low enough that it won’t burn you. The further away you drop it from affects the temperature when it gets to your skin, too. But candles like beeswax melt at a very high temperature. Those can be dangerous, and you’d never catch me or anyone at Red using them. Now-!” Slipping the short, fat candle back into the box with a soft thud, he pulls out a second one. This one is black, and thin with a pointed end at the top. “This one is a taper candle. There’s no room for the wax to build up, so when you light it, it’ll drop the melted wax one drop at a time. The advantage is that it’s handy for constant use, and very easy to maneuver. One of my friends at Red actually uses it in suspension bondage. She’ll tie up her sub and slip a lit taper into the rope somewhere so that it drips on, say, the sub’s back or stomach. You can imagine if you where tied up and blindfolded, feeling a single drop of heat at a time would be a pretty intense experience.”

The dom breaks off with a laugh at the look on your face, and promptly slips it back in the box. “For our purposes, I’m going to use the pillar. It means that I can easily stop at any time and let the wax just sit in that little divot at the top without it getting everywhere. Still with me?”

You nod quickly, shifting on the chair. Perhaps it’s the hypnotic, soothing lilt of his voice as he walks you through it, or perhaps you’re just realising that it’s not as scary as it seems, but that soft limit is getting softer and softer. “You can go on,” you state in a small voice.

Hoseok’s beam is addicting, brightening the room as he lets out a pleased hum and stands up. Instead of approaching you, however, he walks right past to the bench, fiddling with something in the sink there before he’s filling it up. “An important safety measure,” he explains, “is to have a water source nearby. In case it’s too hot, or the candle catches on anything. I’m doing it in here so that there’s not really anything flammable like carpet or curtains, but there’s no such thing as being too safe.”

You watch him shake the water off his hand with a fond smile. He returns to sit across from you, nudging the open box with his foot. “We have some other surprises in here, but nothing too wild apart from the flogger. How are you feeling about it?”

Your heart skips a beat when you recall it, the satisfying whip of air as he threw it over his shoulder earlier. “I’m nervous, but I really want to try it.”

“Excellent,” he says warmly. “And the wax? We can take it slow, try it out a bit and then I’ll check back in, yeah? Just because we’ll be in the scene doesn’t mean this communication is cut off.”

You suck in a slow breath, biting your lip. Hoseok gives you time to think, waiting patiently and without expectation, but you know that you want to at least try chasing that thrill deep inside you. “I wanna give it a go too.”

Hoseok’s look of pride makes your decision feel all the more right. “That’s my girl,” he chimes, “so brave for me.” Without further notice, his eyes darken, and his smile turns less sweet and more sly. “You know Master will make it good for you, right?”

You shiver beneath the thin layer of satin and lace. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he coos, “I want you to make a choice now, princess. I’ll let you choose what you wish to have first? Candles or the flogger?”

You feel slightly paralysed by the sudden decision making, brain already beginning to slow down. “Flogger please, sir.”

“So polite,” he praises, “alright, then. I want you to stand up and take that robe of yours off.”

You do so with a quickening pulse, but Hoseok doesn’t even spare a second glance at you, instead shifting the box over to the bench, pulling out… something that definitely isn’t the flogger.

Hoseok turns to you with a grin, dangling a chain on a single finger. At either end, leather cuffs twirl and bump each other, familiar to ones you’d used on the show before. Unlike the other pair, which were pretty simple and basic, this pair look beautiful enough to be a regular fashion accessory. The leather is thick but not stiff, and they’re done up with silver buckles, adjustable for size. What really catches your attention, however, is the gorgeous red trim of the softest velvet, a deep colour that makes it look unbelievably expensive. As he approaches, you notice that the insides of the cuffs are embossed with the symbol you recognised from the box. Two Rs facing away from each other, with delicately curled strokes.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Hoseok asks rhetorically. “They’re from the dungeon, if you hadn’t already guessed. Show me your wrists.” You rush to obey, sighing when you feel cool velvet encase around your left wrist, Hoseok deftly fastening the cuff as he continues to talk. “We have a colour code for everyone that comes in our doors. All spectators wear a simple black wristband. If you’re there to play, doms get armbands and subs get cuffs. Green means free use, anyone inside those walls wearing a cuff or a armband can play with you-” he doesn’t miss the way you shudder at the concept of being totally at the mercy of a roomful of strangers, arms pulling closer to your sides defensively, “-blue means looking. You’re open to negotiation, but there needs to be a kink negotiation and mutual agreement before you begin to play.” Hoseok moves to your other wrist, making sure the cuff is snug, but not cutting off circulation. “Can you guess what red means, princess?”

You can’t bear to look away from the gorgeous cuffs that adorn your wrists. You can feel the weight of the chain that connects them as it swings below. “Taken,” you offer in an uncertain voice.

“That’s right.” Even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can sense Hoseok’s grin. He gracefully hooks the chain on his finger, lifting it up and tugging it to watch your wrists jerk towards him. “And can you guess why I picked red for you?”

You think you know the answer. But you become overcome with the desire to hear him say it. You lift your gaze to his, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t know.”

Hoseok sees right through you, tilting his head. “I think you do,” he counters, “but I’ll happily tell you.” He yanks again, making you stumble forward into his chest. With an arm bracing you against him, Hoseok bends down to murmur in your ear. “Because you’re mine.” With the teasing slowness of a cat playing with its food, he brushes your hair back, fingertips light against the bare skin of your neck and shoulders. “Do you want to know something funny? The entire time you’ve been in there, you haven’t thought to look up.”

It happens quickly. Just as you lift your chin to seek out what he’s referring to, you feel a pull on your wrists. Hoseok’s grip on you loosens but the tug on your wrists continues until they’re stretching right up above you. The moment you set your eyes on the hook dangling from the ceiling - what looks like thick, industrial grade steel - you see the chain loop onto it and suddenly you can’t drop your arms anymore.

You tug them, a natural instinct to escape the hold, and the unforgiving way your body is stretched out makes your chest pound a little with alarm,heels only just resting on the floor. Hoseok’s hands are on you, palms hot as they smooth up and down your sides and back, soothing you. Your racing pulse starts to slow, even as your arms tremble.

“That’s better,” he remarks, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Would you believe that hook was there when we came?”

Your lips twitch. “Honestly? No, sir.”

He flicks you a wink, patting your ass fondly. “You would be surprised. Used to be a fixture for a chandelier. Who the fuck needs a chandelier in a bathroom?” You suppress a laugh, knowing that your nervous giggles will get the best of you if you give them a chance, but Hoseok sees that he’s managed to calm you down quite a bit, and slips back into the velvety depths of his dominant persona once again. His hand hasn’t moved from your ass, and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose as his fingers slip beneath the lace, gripping the flesh there, unable to move away from it.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know,” he starts with a casual air, massaging your ass openly even as his eyes stay fixed on yours, monitoring your every expression, “been waiting to turn that pretty ass of yours red. Let’s take these pretty panties of yours off first.”

You relax your thighs to let the strip of fabric sneak past, and when he bares your bottom half, tucking the cream-coloured lace into his back pocket, you shiver for a different reason entirely. You feel the wetness between your thighs begin to run down now that it’s unhindered by your panties, and your nipples are stiff, begging to be touched.

Hoseok isn’t so merciful, however, and when he glances down and sees them, he flicks lightly at one with an amused chuckle. “Desperate little one, aren’t you? Now, princess, I’m going to go over to the bench and get my flogger. Are you okay here alone? I’m not leaving you; I’ll only be out of your sight for a moment.”

The tile feels so cold and unforgiving under your toes as you shift, the chain preventing you from going far. “Yes, sir,” you say, but Hoseok clearly senses your hesitance.

Eyes imploring, warm yet serious, he tips up your chin with his knuckles gently. “Do you trust me? I’ll be no more than ten seconds. How about this? In your head, chant ‘Master is a good kisser’ three times, and I’ll be back.”

Your eyes round, wetting your lips. “How would I kn-umph!” Your question is cut off prematurely as Hoseok ducks down and demonstrates; a firm, bruising kiss that’s only heightened by the bondage restricting your movements. You can’t touch him, or move closer. You just have to sit and take it, and your mind feels heady as his lips press roughly against yours, teeth tugging on your lower lip enough to sting. By the time he pulls away, you feel breathless, the tension of the cuffs the only thing keeping you on your feet.

Hoseok gently buffs you on the cheek with another wink. “Don’t forget the magic words, princess,” he chimes, “I’ll be right back.”

And, though only two weeks ago the feeling of having him out of sight and out of reach had freaked you out to the point of safewording, the tingle in your lips and that admittedly accurate mantra - Master is a good kisser - keep your mind occupied enough that before you reach the end of the third recitation, Hoseok has stepped back into your line of vision, giving you an expectant look. “Still with me?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod with it, though you can’t bring yourself to look at him, so captivated by the flogger in his hand. He holds it like a seasoned expert, which you don’t doubt he is. The handle is black braided leather, with two thicker balls on either end like a dumbbell, no doubt for ease of grip. His hand wraps around the narrower middle section, but loose enough that his fingers look relaxed around it. Though he holds the handle upright slightly, the strips of leather fall straight down in a single cascade, neatly kept together.

Observing your trained eye, Hoseok laughs and steps closer, sliding the leather over his palm to display it for you. “Shall we have a quick lesson? This here is a perfect beginner’s flogger. Perfectly balanced with a weighted handle and clean-cut leather. These strips here, they’re called falls. The less you have or the thinner they are, the more it stings like a whip would. This one has probably around 30, 35 falls. Proper garment leather. Expensive, but well-crafted.” His hand shifts, clasping around the ends, which he spreads apart with a thumb. “You see how the ends are rounded? Some falls have forked tips, pointed tips, or straight-cut ones. The pointier it is, the sharper the sensation. Rounded tips are best for a newbie like you.”

Suddenly, he drops the ends, letting them revert back to their single stream of leather spouting from the handle. The quick movement makes your eyes automatically jump up to his face, and you suck in a breath at how intense his gaze is on you. “You need to be very clear where your limits are, princess. Tell me if I’m going too hard. This is painplay, but it should still be pleasurable. Understood?”

You swallow. Now, with your body almost entirely naked, your body restrained and a very practiced dom standing in front of you with a flogger, the concept of pain is a little more concrete. But still, you trust him, and his ability to make it feel good for you. “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” Hoseok steps back, giving himself some distance as he eyes you up. With a smooth motion, his wrist begins to flick, and you instinctually recoil when the falls of the flogger start flying through the air in a graceful arc. They’re uniform in both width and length, probably just about as long as Hoseok’s arm, which stays perfectly still as he isolates the movement in his joint. Even if you weren’t in the metaphorical hot seat, this show of excellence and practiced skill would nevertheless add to the coil of arousal between your legs. He looks good like this, fully in his element. “Now,” he states, smirking at your telling reaction, “normally the best spots are the back of the shoulders, and the ass. But something tells me you’d rather see what I’m doing before letting me loose behind you. Would I be right in thinking that?”

You picture him going behind you and beginning to whip you with no context or warning. You nod your head quickly. “Yes please, sir.”

Hoseok smiles, slowing his wrist, before he begins flicking it the opposite way, the ends of the flogger curving downwards towards you instead of upwards. “Now, this flogger is a little thuddier than what I’d usually use on breasts, but since I’m only going to be very light, it’ll be just fine.”

You try to inch backwards, but the chain rattles and gives you away. “My breasts?”

Hoseok’s hand stills, his head cocking to one side as his brows come together. “Is there a problem, princess?”

His disapproval is clear, and you get the feeling that you’re treading on thin ice. But he said that communication wouldn’t stop here, so you forge ahead. “I’m not protesting, I’m just curious, sir. Why not somewhere easier like the stomach?”

Distaste wracks his features. “This isn’t going anywhere near your stomach,” he says firmly, “the organs there are unprotected. Anything vulnerable - joints, spine, the stomach and lower back, of course the head - they’re all off-limits. Do you understand that?” When he receives a nod, the line of tension in Hoseok’s shoulders relaxes. “Now, I need you to move your head back so that it’s between or behind your arms. Can you do that for me?”

Pushing your head through the gap in your upper arms, you shift until your whole face is between them, chin tilted slightly up. “May I ask why, sir?” you request in a small voice. Why did this whole thing feel so technical? And why were you still so wet from it?

“You may,” Hoseok replies bemusedly, “it just distances your face from the swings. Don’t worry-” he interjects quickly when your eyes widen in alarm, “the falls will be nowhere near your face. It’s just for our peace of mind. Do you still trust me?”

You manage to nod with your face bracketed by your arms, and with a rush of anticipation, watch Hoseok start up those quick circles, the leather whipping through the air in one bunch. Instead of stretching his arm forward, he steps in slowly, moving the falls getting closer and closer until the smooth stroke of impact flicks across your right breast.

You gasp, out of shock more than anything, but those strokes deliver a regular pattern, and it’s already lacing across your skin again, and again, an odd feeling that certainly isn’t unpleasant. There’s a distinct feeling of impact, without any real weight behind it, and the slightest hint of a sting that just serves to gradually warm the skin. Your chest is heaving, but Hoseok lands each blow with perfect accuracy, even stepping side-on between arcs and switching breasts.

The constant snap of contact helps you get used to it and calm down, and you can’t deny that it feels kind of...nice? There’s something satisfying and freeing about feeling those split second granules of pain and tolerating them, overcoming them. It doesn’t take long before you unconsciously arch your spine, seeking out something more than just light swats from the very tips of the falls.

Hoseok notices the moment you move and, frustratingly, he stops with a chuckle. “Did that turn you on, princess? Do you want more?”

You whine, tipping your head back further so he disappears out of your sight. Against the skin of your inner arms, your cheeks are raging hot. “Yes,” you admit in a defeated voice when he refuses to move on.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir?” you quip with a hopeful tone.

“Nice try,” Hoseok replies flatly, “I want you to say it, princess. Yes, what?”

You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. There’s only silence. The heat has already left your breasts, and they feel strange without that lick of leather on them. “I want more, please, sir.”

“Good girl,” Hoseok coos, and in reward you feel the now-welcome flick of the falls on your breasts. This time, however, he stands directly across from you and twists his wrist over, casting figure eights, alternating left and right. You tremble at the feeling, squirming under it. Though it’s still light, every strike feels even more intense on your nipples, shooting sensation right between your legs.

“Sir,” you gasp out, “I w-want some more, sir.”

Hoseok answers without faltering, and his voice easily carries over the sound of the flogger. “Oh, do you? I can’t go any harder on these pretty little tits of yours, princess.” He pulls away, ceasing the motion. “If you want to continue, I’m going to have to go behind you. Are you okay with that?”

You push your reddened chest forward to no avail. “Fuck! Hoseok, yes, I’m okay with it,” you whine, unable to resolve any of the need in your core, needing more. Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval, and you curse internally at the slip. “Sir! Sorry, I’m okay with it, sir.”

“You better not forget your manners,” Hoseok warns, taking one step at a time, boots thudding on the tile as he circles you. “I’m flogging you for pleasure, because I like to treat and train you, but if you do that again, I can easily turn this into a punishment.”

The thought makes you moan, and your wrist jerks as you fruitlessly try to cover your mouth. Actually relieved he’s behind you for once, you let your head duck forward, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckles. “It seems like you’re more of a painslut than you realise, princess,” he teases, and you’re given no warning before you feel a strike against your ass, making you jump with a yelp. Though it’s the same light figure eights as just before, these ones whip up from the bottom, so that every hit lands on the meat of your ass, avoiding your lower back. If the ones before were easy, these feel like child’s play. Whether you’ve gotten more used to the sensation, or the skin on your ass just isn’t as sensitive, you find yourself immediately wanting more, trying to lean back into it.

The dom isn’t pleased. “Did I say you could move?”

You don’t answer, hands reaching up to grip the chains that bind them as you bite down harshly on your tongue. “I can take more, sir,” you begin, but Hoseok cuts you off with a gruff noise of disapproval.

“Did I say you could move?” he repeats sharply.

You whine low in your throat. “No, sir,” you admit, “but I can-” You yelp and flinch when a single swat hits below the swell of your ass, across your thighs. It feels different there, stingier and less hazily pleasant. “I’m sorry-”

“That’s right, I didn’t,” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind you, cold and unforgiving. “In fact, I hung you up here to keep you still for me, so that I could play with you as I wished. If you insist on defying that, I’ll quite happily fetch a spreader bar so that you can’t move an inch.”

You furrow your brows, hating the feeling of making him mad. Hating even more that the sharpness in his tone and the filthy word he says just make you even needier, tightening your thighs together. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll behave,” you mumble shamefully.

You jump slightly when you feel something on your ass again, but it’s just his hand, cupping the flesh. “I’m doing this to warm you up. For your own safety. I’ve been doing this for years, princess, don’t forget that Master knows best.”

“Master knows best,” you repeat mindlessly, feeling yourself begin to slip. It’s a comforting thought just as much as it is an arousing one; Master knows what he’s doing, and all you need to do is take it.

“Exactly.” Hoseok sounds pleased, and just as your heart lifts in relief, the hits resume.

Eyes slipping closed, you let yourself tune everything else out. When you focus, when you really actively feel it, you can recognise every shift in his posture, or change in angle by how it feels on your skin. The strips of leather lash up, gradually causing the skin to heat up as the thuddy feeling stays longer and longer after each strike.

Before he ups the intensity, he simply speeds up his strokes, and you let out a pleased whine as the constant ebb and flow of pleasure-softened pain lull you deeper. The more you take, the less it hurts at all, even as the skin on your ass feels like it’s radiating heat.

The warmth floods to the rest of your body until even your toes aren’t cold against the tile. You feel like you could stand here forever, strung up and lost in the sensations he’s giving you. In fact, those dull edges of pain are so soothing that it feels almost therapeutic, worries and aches melting away, irrelevant in this space.

Hoseok finally deems your skin is sufficiently warmed up, and you whimper when the hits shift. Instead of friendly, playful flicks of leather, every strike echoes in the room, the thud of impact delivering a bolder note of pain.

Not that it’s bad, though. On the contrary, if the earlier flogging was lulling you into a sleepy bliss, these ones wake you up like a burst of energy with every swing. Without even realising, a dopey grin stretches your cheeks, and you find yourself no longer trying to muffle the pleased sighs that stutter out with every flick of Hoseok’s wrist.

“Fuck, look at you,” the dom croons, “a painslut indeed. You’re dripping onto the tiles, naughty girl.”

You moan openly, knuckles aching with how tightly you’re gripping the chains that hook your cuffs to the steel loop above. Your pussy aches with the need to be touched, but to do that Hoseok would have to stop whipping you, and your mind hisses at the thought. All you want is more, you can take more, you want to show him, to show yourself you can take more. Every burst of pain on your flesh is another victory, and it feels euphoric.

You stay in this headspace for a while as Hoseok maintains the same, regular hits. Eventually, the scream for more overwhelms you, and you seek out something more intense the quickest way you know how - disobedience. “Hoseokie,” you whine, “hit me harder.”

You could sob when his hand freezes, the next strike coming down without any bite, just a loose draping of the leather falls. As they linger on the skin, you realise just how sensitive and raw it’s gotten, feeling every edge of leather in sharper clarity. Hoseok holds it there for a moment, then drops, the silence in the room palpable. “Are you giving me orders? And without the proper title, no less.”

Pain bursts across your skin like a line of fire, the sharpest and strongest hit yet. Like the one across your thighs, this comes at an angle instead of the upstrokes of his circles or figure eights. You can imagine him holding it back, and whipping it down with a single, swift flick. The residue heat on your ass just makes you want another.

Instead of another hit, however, you cry out when you feel nails digging into the flesh, not scraping, just groping the globes of your ass in each hand. You can even feel the stiff leather of the handle pressing into your flesh on one side, and you whine at the sensation.

“I know what you want, princess,” Hoseok growls, his voice startlingly close as his breath wafts hot on the back of your neck. “And if painplay was the purpose of the scene, perhaps I’d whip you until you cried like you deserve.”

You sob. “Master, please-”

“It’s too late for that,” he cuts off sharply. “The time for begging is over. You’ve disappointed me. I was going to lift up your legs and fuck you right here, but you’ve showed me that you don’t deserve that yet.”

Unprecedented, your eyes brim with tears. Hoseok slips back into your line of sight, face stern as he tucks the handle of the flogger in his belt at the back, and reaches up to unhook you. Your legs are weak, but he carries your weight with ease, letting the chain dangle around the back of his neck as he walks you over to the bench.

Instead of propping you up on it, or sitting you on a chair, he helps you lie down on the cool tile, an immediate balm for the deep-set heat radiating from your ass. Even as his face is stiff with disapproval, he handles you so gently, ensuring you don’t knock your head on the way down.

“Just stay here a moment,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your eyes, “calm down a little bit. I have some candles to light.”

You feel strangely floaty, your emotions all over the place, but Master had asked you to calm down, so you try your best to settle them. It’s not a bad sensation once you relax a bit. Need burns fiercely between your thighs, but the last thing you want to do is upset him by breaking the rules, so you simply let your eyes slip closed and your thighs clench together. You’ll wait until Hoseok comes back to you, and then you’ll make things right by being extra good. The thought of pleasing him makes you smile, and when Hoseok’s voice wraps around you, checking that you’re still with him, it’s only too easy to chirp a contented, “yes, sir.”

When he returns, he’s slipping one hand under your head and the other behind your back, lifting you ever-so-slowly so that your head doesn’t spin. Once you’re up, you lean forward and cling to him, wanting nothing more than to be close. Hoseok lazily cards his fingers through your hair. “You’ve misbehaved,” he states slowly, “you haven’t earned an orgasm, princess, but I’m soft on you. I’ll give you the chance to win one, how about that?”

You blink dazedly, feeling clarity begin to seep back in. “Win?”

Pulling back, Hoseok smirks down at you. “We’re going to play a little game, you and I. Come; I want you on your hands and knees.”

Hoseok guides you over, though you’ve mostly gotten your strength back. On the floor, near the box, are two lit pillar candles. The flames dance cheerily, leaving behind wells of molten wax. One is the red candle you’d inspected earlier, and the other is a pure white, the wax melting clear. You prop yourself up on your hands and knees beside it, but the dom quickly corrects you, leading you to instead assume the position over the box, which almost reaches your stomach.

Upon receiving your questioning look, Hoseok rubs one hand over your reddened ass cheeks, soothing the flesh. “I don’t want you losing your balance and creating a large angle,” he explains shortly, “the wax could drip forward into your hair or, worse, drip back where I’m sure you don’t want it.”

You shudder at the thought, your pulse steadily quickening as the reality of what he’s about to do sets in. This feels even more unfamiliar and alien than the flogging did at the beginning, but you feel safe beneath his touch.

Hoseok gets on his knees behind you, and you could cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle clink, and then a zip lower. It takes no time at all for you to feel the blunt head of Hoseok’s cock pressing against your entrance until it begins to sink in.

You moan, arching your back enough that you fee the texture of cardboard on your stomach. After only receiving external stimulation - pain, nonetheless - until now, suddenly being speared on his tongue has you speechless, tongue heavy in your mouth and drool pooling in your cheeks.

“Feel good, princess?” Hoseok questions, giving your raw ass a playful swat when you cry out the affirmative. “I bet it does.” But when he bottoms out, leaving you deliciously full, he remains perfectly still. “Sadly, that’s all you’ll get for now. Do you want to hear the rules of the game?”

You sob lowly in your throat, elbows almost buckling as your walls clench around the unmoving intrusion. “Please, sir.”

“I’m going to write a word on you, princess. A special word. But it just so happens that I don’t have a pen on me, so I’ll use this wax instead.” The glimpses of red and white blink out of your peripheral as Hoseok drags them closer to himself. “You can guess each letter, and if you manage to get the word right once I’m finished, then I’ll let you cum. Does that sound fair?” Your reply is garbled, incoherent, but Hoseok doesn’t seem bothered. “Then let’s begin. Pay close attention, now.”

Your body naturally tenses up, eyes squeezed shut as you wait for a burst of pain, of searing heat. When something touches your skin, you automatically cry out, but quickly realise that it doesn’t hurt at all, instead, it’s like viscous warm water that slowly stiffens on your skin as it cools. The tightness in your chest loosens.

“That was a test patch, princess,” Hoseok says in a calm voice, devoid from his usual dom smugness. “Too hot? Not hot enough?”

You swallow. “It wasn’t hot,” you admit, “it’s not bad.”

“Understood,” he confirms, squeezing your hip in reassurance as you clench again around him, but the safety monitor Hoseok quickly takes a backseat to the Master persona. “First letter, princess. I’ll only do each one once.”

This time, when lines of warmth bloom on your back, concentrated in the top corner by your shoulder blade, you focus your mind on picturing the shapes they create. Something straight, then a small loop. The wax isn’t painful; on the contrary, it doesn’t feel hot when it first makes contact. As it sits, the skin heats up, but before it gets too warm, the wax has already cooled to mostly solid. Your fears melt away fully, and you tune back into the game. “D?” you guess.

“Close,” he allows.

You rack your mind. “P?”

You moan when Hoseok’s cock suddenly moves inside you, pulling out slowly and giving you a single, snapped thrust. “Correct,” he confirms, “next letter.”

This one feels similar, starting with the same straight line, slightly to the right of where the first patch fell. A straight line, something wobbly again with a line to end it. Your breath catches. “R? Is the word ‘princess?’”

“Guessing so soon,” Hoseok chimes, humour lacing his voice, “but wrong on both counts. It’s a vowel.”

You go down the list, comparing them against the already-fading memory of thick warmth on your skin. “E- no, A?”

“A is correct. This one’s easy.” After fucking into you once another time, he does a single stroke that you easily identify as an I, and then you hear the thud as he puts down one candle and picks up the other. “Let’s see how you look in red, princess. Next letter.”

It gets harder and harder to correctly name the letters as you go on. With every right answer, you’re rewarded with a second of pleasure before it ceases, and that paired with the arousing feeling of warm wax drizzling over your skin just has you feeling hazy. It takes you whole minutes to guess N, but lucky it’s followed by simple strokes of S, L, and U.

By the time he’s switched wax a couple times and is readying you for the last letter, you already know the word. But Hoseok drops the wax from a little lower every time, and you relish the heat more and more with each letter, and you’ll take whatever else you can get.

At this point, the only space left on you is low on your back, just in from your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, already knowing that he’s going to paint two strokes: one horizontal and one vertical. So instead, you allow yourself to just feel it for what it is.

He tips the pillar candle - red or white, you’ve long since lost track - and you moan openly as you feel fluidity, then heat, which crests and settles into a seal of solid wax. Hoseok wastes no time before completing the letter, one longer line going down in a thick trail that threatens to drip down your side.

“‘s T,” you slur out before he can even ask, tightening your walls around him as he snaps his hips a single time so that you can feel every inch of him. Even the sound of the one movement is obscene; you’re so wet that it runs down your thighs and soaks his cock, but Hoseok’s not complaining.

Instead, you whine as you feel his nails on your shoulder, dislodging the fully hardened wax from the beginning. It’s a strange sensation, there’s a minute suction to breaking that seal, but it lifts off so smoothly when he’s careful like that. “And can you tell me the word, princess? I picked it out just for you.”

Sighing out, you nod shakily. “Painslut,” you gasp.

“That’s right,” Hoseok replies warmly, even as his nails curl and drag down rough enough to crumble the wax in his path, leaving stinging lines over your skin. “You’re my little painslut, aren’t you? Say it, and I’ll give you your reward.”

“I’m your little painslut,” you moan out, back arching under the relentless way he dislodges slivers of dried wax, exposing the sensitive skin beneath.

Without further preface, Hoseok bends over to quickly blow out the two candles, shift them further away, and then straightens up to grip your hips with hands slightly slippery from the soy.

When he begins fucking into you properly, with the full force of his powerful hips, you’re pushed forward onto the cardboard box, a cry punched from your throat. He doesn’t wait this time, just as steady and unforgiving as the circles his flogger made earlier.

You feel the weight of his balls slapping against you, his hip bones pressing into your sensitive ass, and his nails dig in sharply to give you that delicious pain that had become just as potent as pleasure. You feel him inside you, too; mercilessly parting your walls and stretching you around him until it feels like you can’t breathe.

Your mouth spills a constant stream of garbled moans and pleas, doing your best to fuck yourself back on him to feel him deeper. “Fuck, Master, I’m so close,” you manage to make out, “can I cum, sir?”

Hoseok growls deep in his throat, and you squeal helplessly as his pace picks up until you can’t even stop yourself from drooling onto the tile, jerked about within his grip. “Cum for me, princess,” he commands, “cum on my cock now.”

In your body’s final effort to please your Master, your orgasm follows only a few thrusts later, and you go limp and shivery against the support of the cardboard box, clinging to it as Hoseok chases his own high.

Having cum from g-spot stimulation alone, the orgasm seems to reach as deep as your bones, and you ride the wave longer. By the time you’re finally beginning to come down, pleasure slowly turning to oversensitivity, Hoseok’s thrusts are stuttering, and he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grunting as a different kind of heat spurts over your back.

You’re panting, hugging the box you’re curled over as you feel Hoseok’s cum run down the divot of your spine, slowly cooling. You can still feel the dry flakes of wax that cling to you, and even as Hoseok gently helps you off the solid tile floor, you see shavings and slivers of red and white falling to the ground.

Hoseok’s dropped the Master persona entirely by now, and you hum happily as he checks you over, fingertips running across the skin of your back and ass. “No pain still persisting?”

“Well, my ass still kinda stings,” you admit, “but nothing seriously painful, no.”

He furrows his brows in concern as he straightens up in front of you. “And the wax was okay?”

You smile shyly and a little dopily, still coasting on the endorphins the pain and temperature play had released. “I’m probably going to go to Sejin and get him to change it to a definite interest, actually. It was great, Hoseok. You were great. Thank you.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm as he fondly buffs you on the underside of your chin. “Well; I say we have a nice shower and clean you up, and then we can go into the kitchen for some ice cream. Get your sugar levels back up, how about that?”

You could laugh, but you feel too blissed out to even exert that much energy. “I’m not sure there’s any ice cream left, actually.”

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

Please vote for your favourite member in the house according to Week Three only. Vote here. You need to sign in to prevent spamming, but I delete the survey after the 48 hours is up. All I take note of is the pie chart at the end. I’m very excited to see what the results will be !

And so we meet our fourth guest... Confused? Check bonus content four, five and six for the other three teasers ;)