#i think he thinks hes petting us right back

[writersdrug]

Training for Two: pt. 5

Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader

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Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?

A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy! PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!

art by @sleepyconfusedpotato

The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.

Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.

"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.

He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."

Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."

"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."

"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."

Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...

A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.

"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"

"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."

Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"

"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.

"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.

Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.

"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."

"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."

Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.

Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.

"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"

She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.

"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"

Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.

Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.

He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.

Hello Simon!

Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.

Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!

Have a nice evening!

P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.

He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.

He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.

"Riley, c'mere."

Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.

He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.

"Play dead." He said firmly.

Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.

He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.

"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.

He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.

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

After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.

His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.

He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.

After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.

He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.

He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.

He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.

He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.

He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.

Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.

"Hmm?"

She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.

He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...

Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.

"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.

She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.

"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.

Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.

"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"

She cut him off with a shrill yap.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.

"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.

He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.

He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-

Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.

"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.

Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.

"... m... hello?"

Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.

"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."

"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."

Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.

"Hello?" He asked cautiously.

"Up... 'm up... what's up?"

Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"

Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.

Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"

Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."

Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.

"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."

"Hmm?"

"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."

"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."

Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."

"No- she wants you to tuck her in."

"She wha' now?"

You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."

He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.

"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.

"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.

You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.

"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."

"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.

He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.

"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."

"I did?"

"Yeah. The green one."

"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"

"Who are you talking to at this hour?"

Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"

"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?

"Talk to me."

"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"

"My client, ya git."

"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.

"Got me right in my bloody eye-"

"Oh, hush."

"Left your flannel at his house."

"My green one?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were using the grey one!"

"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"

"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."

You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.

"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"

"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.

Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."

"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"

"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."

You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."

"Right, will do. I'll text you."

"Is everything ok?"

"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."

"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."

"G'bye."

He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.

Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.

He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.

Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.

"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.

She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.

"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.

Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.

He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"

She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.

He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.

"We'll be alright, girl."

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

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[liliavanrougelover]

How would they sleep with you?

Summary: How would the TWST boys sleep in the same bed as you?

Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)

Warnings: None (?)

A/N: I'm suffering from TWST brain rot.

Riddle Rosehearts:

It depends on the day. Most days he’ll just fall asleep next to you, other days he’ll fall asleep in your arms. Sometimes he just wants to be held and what else is he supposed to do when you feel so warm? He can’t stop the way his eyes start to close or the way he starts to lose consciousness. He likes when he wakes up in your arms too. It makes him feel safe and secure. Maybe he should ask to be held more often.

Trey Clover:

Normally he’ll just fall asleep next to you. Really close though. Your shoulders will be touching but he won’t have an arm around you or anything. Of course, if you want him to hold you, he’s willing to. And if you want to hold him, he doesn’t mind. Just ask and he’ll do it.

Cater Diamond:

He’s a cuddly sleeper. Most days he wants you to hold him while he sleeps. Something about being in your arms just makes him feel safe. He especially loves that he’s surrounded by you. Sometimes he does like to hold you, especially when your head is resting on his chest. Not only does it feel nice to have you against his chest, but it’s nice to feel trusted by you.

Ace Trappola:

He wants you to sleep on him. Your head on his chest and the rest of your body between his legs. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your back and when he’s having trouble sleeping he’ll trace shapes into your back. And right before he goes to sleep, he’ll plant a little kiss on the top of your head.

Deuce Spade:

However you want. You want to be held, he’s holding you. You want to hold him, he’s snuggling into your arms. You just want to sleep next to him, he’ll face you so that you’re the last thing he sees before going to sleep. He really doesn’t care. However, his favorite is when he gets to hold you. It feels nice to fall asleep with you in his arms. He always asks if he can hold you, and if you say no, he’s fine with that. He’s not going to overstep your boundaries.

Leona Kingscholar:

He holds you or sleeps on top of you. His main goal is to keep you in bed with him and both of those are very effective. His favorite out of those two is sleeping on you. He gets to keep you there and sleep on his favorite pillow, it’s a win-win. Lets just hope the professors are willing to overlook your tardiness.

Ruggie Bucchi:

In your arms. He loves the feeling of being held. And I mean LOVES. He’s not used to being held. It's a nice sensation. He feels safe and loved and he couldn’t ask for a better feeling. Occasionally, he does like holding you, but that’s usually just when you’re feeling down.

Jack Howl:

He prefers to just sleep next to you. He does want to be touching you but he’s not a cuddler. He’ll hold your hand or have his arm wrapped around yours but he doesn’t cuddle. When he does cuddle, he wants to hold you. Holding you makes him feel better. But if you want to hold him and pet his ears, he won’t complain.

Azul Ashengrotto:

He’s a cuddly sleeper but he doesn’t want to admit it. When he goes to sleep he’s laying next to you, but when he wakes up he’s holding you super tightly. It’s like he’s scared to let go of you. No matter how many times it happens, he refuses to admit that he’s a cuddler (at least to other people).

Jade Leech:

Prefers to just sleep next to you. If you want to cuddle, then go ahead and hold him, but he won’t hold you back. He’d actually be amused if you hold onto him. Your arms wrap around him and he has to keep himself from chuckling. He didn’t think he’d like being held, but there’s just something about being in your arms. Maybe he’ll sleep in a little, just to stay in this moment.

Floyd Leech:

Do I even need to say it? Floyd’s a cuddler. He squeezes you. He doesn’t let up once. You can tell when he starts to fall asleep because his grip on you slightly loosens. When he wakes up and notices you’re in his arms, he’ll squeeze you until you wake up.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Cuddly sleeper. He’s holding onto you like his life depends on it. He mainly likes when you hold him. He loves to just lay his head on your chest and fall asleep in your arms. If he wakes up and he’s no longer in your arms, he’ll wrap his arms around you instead. He needs to be cuddling with you in one way or another.

Jamil Viper:

He’s a big cuddler. He loves when you hold him. And if you run your hands through his hair? He is melting. He’s so stressed all the time and he has to do so much work all day. Getting to fall asleep in your arms is the highlight of his day. It’s like all his worries fade away the moment he’s in your arms. If you find that he’s sleeping in today, just let him. He needs it.

Vil Schoenheit:

Cuddling improves sleep, so Vil is a cuddler. He wouldn’t be spread out all over you, but he would hold you in his arms. His favorite cuddling position is spooning. He likes to hold you against him. His sleep has always been good, but has improved since getting with you. Good job, you single-handedly helped THE Vil Schoenheit get better sleep.

Rook Hunt:

He doesn’t care. As long as he can sleep in the same room as you, he doesn’t care. He will sleep however you want. You’re beautiful no matter how you want to sleep. What sleeping position does he prefer? Whichever one you prefer.

Epel Felmier:

He likes to cuddle, but he never admits it. He thinks cuddling is a girly thing. He wants to hold you in his arms. He does move a lot in his sleep and has kicked you a few times. And fell off the bed. When somebody asks if you guys cuddle, he’ll deny and just say that he holds you. It sounds manlier to him.

Idia Shroud:

He likes to cuddle, but he doesn’t like to say it. He’s too embarrassed to bring it up. He will NOT initiate under any circumstances. You have to initiate. You have to ask for cuddles. Otherwise, he’ll just lay beside you. He’ll sleep on his back and just stare at the ceiling. He’s too tense to sleep when you’re next to him.

Malleus Draconia:

He likes to cuddle. You’re not afraid of him and he likes to have that reinforced by cuddling with you. Especially if you let him hold you. You feel safe in his arms, not afraid. He’s so happy. He’ll be smiling in his sleep just because he’s holding you. He does enjoy being held too, but mainly prefers to hold you.

Lilia Vanrouge:

To no one’s surprise, Lilia is a cuddler. He’ll just force himself into your arms. He’s nuzzling into you with a little smile on his face. He would also do this when you’re asleep. He’ll wait until he’s certain you’re asleep and crawl into your arms so you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you wake up.

Silver Vanrouge:

He likes holding you. He falls asleep before he can fully put his arms around you, but he loves holding you. If he wakes up to find that you crawled into his arms, he’ll be super happy. (You might not be able to tell, but it’s true). He has occasionally fallen asleep in your lap. It might not be his favorite position to fall asleep in, but it’s his favorite to wake up in.

Sebek Vigzolt:

Next to you. He can’t hold you or be held by you, because then he might be slower to react if something broke in. He can’t go through the extra effort to release his hold on you or climb out of your arms. The most he’ll do is hold your hand. It’s either holding hands or nothing.

[rowarn]

hybrid au part 3 - FINAL

other parts: one | two

cw: major character death, angst, happy ending tho, lack of communication, loving!kyle agenda, mentions of price finally

a/n: SO THAT'S IT. i hope it was worth the wait!!!! mwah!!!

Kyle noticed the way your light dimmed the following days. He was at a loss, one day you're bouncing off the walls and filling every room with the sweet sound of your purrs and the next it's cold and quiet. 

He tried everything, bringing home fragrant, expensive food and snacks, toys, whatever he could find that he thought would make you smile again. But nothing seemed to work. 

When you spend the entire day curled up on the couch, blankly watching TV, he decided he had enough. 

The following day, he was hooking your collar around your neck and forcing you to go outside into the sunshine. 

Your eyes burned as you stepped out beneath the sun's blazing beams. Days spent indoors, sleeping most of the daytime hours away, had accustomed you to darkness. It was hot and you already wanted to go back inside but one pitiful look towards Kyle told you that you were not getting out of this easily.

So you hang your head and allow him to lead you down the sidewalk. The military housing area was surprisingly quiet, the only sound was a lawnmower somewhere nearby. 

Kyle was silent, content with keeping his hand on the small of your back, a kind, protective gesture to assure you that he was still there as you glared at the sidewalk. 

Before you knew it, the quietness of the neighborhood grew louder and louder until you were walking through the gate of the hybrid-park. 

You looked around, watching all the happy hybrids and owners running around and playing lighthearted rounds of soccer or football. Casting a glance to Kyle, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks, glancing around, “We can take a lap around the park if you'd like?” 

You shake your head, “Can we just sit?” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” he coos, nudging you in the direction of an empty bench. 

You both take a seat, and look out across the park. While the nights still got quite chilly, it was beautiful during the day - a soothing breeze that rustled the green leaves in the trees and clear blue skies that you could look at for hours. 

You hated to admit it but - Kyle was right. You were starting to feel better, like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Being cooped up in the house didn’t help anything, in fact it probably made things worse.

A hand patted your head and you looked over to see Kyle beaming, as if he could see the tension just melt off of you. 

“I'm going to get us something to drink,” he muttered as he stood up, “Lemonade okay with you?” 

You nod your head, fluffy ears bouncing atop your head as you do. Kyle has to resist the urge to reach out and pet them, forcing himself to turn around and find a drink stand to get the lemonade from.

You're staring off at a dog hybrid and a young boy playing a heated game of soccer when you hear your name being called. 

Your head whips around to see Johnny standing there, tail wagging and eyes wide in shock. It's obvious he ran all the way over to where you are from the way his shoulders heave up and down with his heavy panting. 

“I-” he clears his throat, thinking over what he wanted to say, “I've missed ye.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, making the blood rush in your ears, “Johnny…”

“Come home,” he says, desperate and breathless, “I miss ye and I want ye to come back.” 

“Simon doesn't want me, Johnny…” you mutter, feeling shame burn at your cheeks as you look down at your hands - nails neatly filed down by Kyle just a few days ago. 

“To hell with him!” he spits, “I want you back, isn't that enough?” 

Your frown deepens. His selfishness ignites irritation within you, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice breaking as the word slips past your lips, “Why should I have to live like that? Being hated while you get to be loved?” Johnny says your name but you cut him off before he can say anything else, “That's not fair, Johnny. I have Kyle now and he loves me! I'm happy with him.”

“Can't ye be happy with me too?” he asks, sad, teary eyes cutting right through your heart. 

“Of course I could Johnny but…” before you can continue there's a sharp call of the pup’s name and both of you freeze. 

Johnny looks over his shoulder to see Simon jogging up behind him, a fierce glare in his brown eyes. A rough, gloved hand grabs the back of the hybrid’s collar. 

“What the hell do you think you're doin’ runnin’ off like that?” Simon snaps, anger masking the clear worry he had experienced at his missing companion. 

“I was just…” Johnny’s eyes drift to you and that's when Simon acknowledges your existence. 

The sneer on his face is clear even through the mask and it makes you shrink in on yourself, ears flattened back. Even after all this time, the sting of his rejection remains strong and hurts just the same. 

“What’s a gutter rat like you doin’ here?” Simon snaps. 

It annoys him that you're always at the source of his problems with Johnny. Whenever the pup misbehaves, you're always there. A bad influence. Typical cat. 

You look at Johnny. He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring up at his owner with an apologetic expression. You want him to speak up. You want him to defend you, to tell Simon to be nice or to apologize or tell him what you mean to him. 

But Johnny just sighs, “Sorry, Si.” 

The lack of defense towards you in the face of Simon solidifies everything for you in that moment. You look down at your lap, the crack in your heart only aching and stinging more and more with every beat of silence that passes between the three of you. 

Something ice cold touches the back of your neck and you yelp, launching yourself off the bench and onto the ground. Laughter fills your ears and you turn to glare at Kyle who holds a large plastic cup of lemonade - the cold thing he’d just surprised you with. 

“Sorry, love!” he apologizes but the laughter shows he's anything but. 

Soap speaks up then, asking if Kyle knows you. Your owner’s brown eyes shine with pride as he affectionately ruffles your hair.

“Found them on the street and brought them home!” Kyle tells them, sounding much like a proud father, “Best decision of my life!”

Your cheeks burn at his praise, his kind, loving words remedy the painful stinging in your heart that had been brought on by your previous owner. You take the cup of lemonade when he offers it to you, taking a sip and cringing at the sour taste that hits your tongue – much to Kyle’s amusement.

“You guys are welcome to come over anytime,” Kyle says, smiling as he affectionately pets your ears, “I’m sure this cute kitten would love to have a friend to hang out with.”

“Yeah…maybe,” Simon mumbles, sending you a sidelong glance that was cold and empty – telling you everything you needed to know without saying it. Absolutely not.

You find that you don’t mind that much. The idea of never seeing Simon or his painfully hateful gaze was nice. But when you looked at Johnny, who was staring at you in despair – you find yourself mumbling in response, “Maybe someday.”

The hope in Johnny’s eyes seers into your mind, even long after you’ve parted ways and gone home for the day. 

The days pass in relative ease. The depressive rut you found yourself in melts away and Kyle is thrilled to see that you’ve returned to your bright, bubbly self. You greet him at the door when he walks in, sit and purr beside him while you both eat dinner together, curl up against his side and happily snooze the night away. 

It’s peaceful bliss.

But one evening, Kyle returns home and tosses his heavy duffle bag onto the floor with a thunk. You get up to greet him, stretching your arms high above your head before padding over to him with a sleepy smile on your face. Kyle opens his arms for you, letting you tuck yourself into his chest for a hug. A loud purr emanates from your chest that only seems to make Kyle’s shoulders drop.

“What’s the matter?” you ask when you catch a look at his face when he pulls away; brows furrowed and lips in a tight line.

“Just got some sad news, that’s all, lovie,” he mutters, patting your head before he moves into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

“What news?” you ask, following after him, tail swishing nervously behind you. 

Did his parents pass away? Did a friend get hurt?

Kyle sets out some vegetables on the counter, hunting around for a knife before sighing, “You remember Simon and Johnny? We met them at the park the other day?”

You nod your head, “Of course.”

“There was an accident a couple days ago,” Kyle explains, slowly chopping up the celery on the cutting board, “Johnny got hit. He didn’t make it. Simon’s tore up about it.”

It feels like everything freezes right then and there for you. You no longer hear the chopping of the knife, no longer hear Kyle's voice or the sound of traffic outside on the street. All you can hear is the pounding in your ears and the sound of your own breathing.

Images flash behind your eyes in your grief. You can see Johnny’s boyish smile and his boisterous laugh emanating down the hallway. You can see him so clearly, wrapped around you as you snuggle and snooze together as the rain falls outside. You can hear the animated way he would tell you stories, waving his hands around and his tail thumping loudly on the floor.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a hand cup your cheek. You blink away the tears and Kyle’s face comes into view, worry etched onto it. 

“What is it, lovie? Why are you crying?” he asks, clearly concerned.

“Johnny’s dead?” you ask, voice broken and wobbly as you fight to talk through tears.

“Yeah, love,” Kyle coos, thumbing beneath your eyes to rub away some tears, “Why are you so upset?”

Everything tumbles from your lips then. You tell him about how you lived on the street, how your life changed the day you met a rambunctious pup who wouldn’t take no for an answer until he had himself a friend. You tell Kyle about how, even though Simon was awful to you, Johnny was a light in the dark and how much you adored him and how much he meant to you. You tell him how Simon threw you out like trash and how much it hurt and how much you missed Johnny despite everything. 

Kyle held you through it all, tucking you tenderly against his chest as you cried it all out.

“I had no idea, lovie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead when your breathing becomes erratic. 

“I-I never got to settle things with him,” you wail, “He wanted me to come home and I-I couldn’t give him an answer.”

Kyle sighs, cupping the back of your head, rocking you back and forth until your cries quiet down to hiccuping sniffles, “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn't know how he can make this hurt go away or help you soothe the grief you’re experiencing. All he can do is hold you close and comfort you whenever you need.

This time, when Kyle notices how sad you are as the days pass, he doesn’t force you to leave the house or do anything. He just lets your sadness run its course, doing what he can to ease your burden by making your favorite dishes and letting you watch your favorite movies over and over again until he can practically recite them by heart.

There’s a knock at the door that startles the both of you one evening. Kyle’s on his feet in seconds, hand drifting towards the firearm he keeps nearby before he looks through the peephole on the door and relaxes. 

You peek over the back of the couch as he opens the door. Simon stands there. 

Although he is masked, you can practically see how worn down and utterly devastated he is. 

“What’s up?” Kyle asks, hand twitching to reach out for the older man but thinks better of it. “Do you need something?”

“I wanna talk to that one,” Simon nods in your direction, where you’re still peeking over the couch. 

Kyle turns to look at you over his shoulder, asking your consent. You think it over for a few seconds before you nod your head. Not like Simon would do anything with Kyle here. 

He steps aside to let the larger man enter and closes the door, giving an excuse about getting drinks before disappearing into the kitchen.

Simon’s heavy boots vibrate the floor as he takes a few large steps towards you. You scoot to the other side of the couch when he sits down, the couch bouncing with his added weight.

His hands are folded between his knees where he rests his elbows on them. His tattooed skin ripples and flexes as he nervously fidgets with his hands. 

“Johnny wanted you to come home,” he starts out, staring intently at the floor. You swear you can see tears beading at his lower lash line as he says his companions name, “So I’m here to see if you will.”

“You want me back?” you ask softly, anxiously pulling a pillow into your lap.

Simon nods, “It’s what Johnny wanted. He cared about you, loved you. You’re all I have left of him.”

You’re silent at that. 

Despite everything, your heart aches for Simon. He adored Johnny more than anything – even if he hated you, his love for the pup was palpable. You could see it in his face every time he saw Johnny, eyes scrunching up happily. Johnny was his world and now that world was gone and Simon was left with nothing but bitter emptiness and a void that he was desperate to fill. 

You found yourself opening your mouth, ready to agree – ready to be the one to soothe your ex-owners devastating hurt. But then you found yourself looking into the kitchen, to Kyle’s back. He was hunched over the counter, vigorously mixing something in a bowl and you realized that you didn’t want to leave him. 

Kyle was yours. Kyle was everything you could ever need or want. He wanted and loved you when you thought no one else would. He didn’t give up on you even when you were difficult and cold. He cared about you, thought about you every day. He gave you everything you wished for so desperately during your time living with Simon. 

“I can’t,” you find yourself whispering, tears filling your eyes at how much it hurt to turn Simon away, “I know Johnny would want me to be with you, to make sure you’re okay without him but…I love Kyle and I want to stay with him.”

“So that’s it then?” Simon asks, voice small and weaker than you’ve ever heard it before. You know there’s a crushing weight on his heart right now, knowing he will be going home alone to a painfully empty and cold house. 

“Yeah…” You whisper, unable to look up at him as he rises to his feet. 

Kyle comes out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl in his hands, asking Simon if he was okay as he passes by him to the front door. The larger man just grunts in response and opens the door. The quiet click of it closing is all you hear of his departure before the warm bowl is in your lap. 

It’s a bowl of broth that makes your mouth water. The fact Kyle had made it for your just because warmed your heart.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you, arm tossed over the couch behind you, fingers mindlessly stroking over the fuzzy surface of your ear.

“He wanted me to go home with him,” you respond, taking a sip of the broth.

“You said no?” he asks. You catch the worry in his tone – like he was scared you were going to tell him you were leaving him soon.

But you nod and his body relaxes in relief, “He only wanted me back because I reminded him of Johnny. He didn’t really want me, just the image of Johnny.”

Kyle nods, leaning over to kiss your temple, “That man loved that pup. But I’m glad you’re here to stay.”

You look over at him from over the bowl of broth as you sip it, “Yeah?”

“I would have let you go if that’s what you really wanted but…” He looks a little sheepish as he continues, “It would have hurt to see you go, kitty. I meant it when I said adopting you was the best decision of my life.”

You place the bowl down on the coffee table before launching yourself into his arms. He grunts as your weight slams against him, knocking him back onto the couch as he laughs. His arms wrap around you in a bear hug, squeezing you so hard that your ribs ache but you don’t even think about trying to pull away.

Though you don’t say it, he knows that you’re his to keep and that you love him just as much as he loves you. He couldn’t imagine life without you now. 

BONUS: 

“I think my boss is gettin’ impatient to meet you, you know,” he mumbles in your shoulder.

“Your boss?” you ask, voice almost too quiet to hear over your loud purring.

“Yeah, the old man’s been dyin’ to meet the cute kitten I talk about all the time at work,” he explains.

“You talk about me?” you ask, peeking up shyly.

He grins, “All the time. I think everyone’s sick of my voice at this point. But the Captain's really been begging to come and meet you. I’ve been waiting for a good time to bring it up. He’s a bit of a lover so you’d have to put up with all the pets and hugs he has to offer.”

Your eyes shine in interest, “I want to meet him!”

Kyle chuckles, reaching up to pet one of your twitching ears, “I’ll make the call then and set up dinner.”

You were excited to meet a new person. You hoped he was as kind and gentle as Kyle was. And even though the idea of Simon sitting alone and hurt in his house with nothing but the memories of his best friend, you weren’t going to let that stop you from opening up new chapters in your own life. 

do not repost on other websites, translate, or modify. reblogs welcome!

[cuubism]

(from some unfinished scene that was bouncing around in my head, the premise of which was, "confessing your darkest fantasies to each other") bit nsfw, needless to say

--

"God, I had this one--" Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, torn between embarrassment and a buried longing that's still very real-- "after I met you in 1689. This recurring dream that you would just... take me with you."

"With me," Dream says.

"To faerie land, or wherever it was you came from, as I imagined it. You must've lived in some fantastical place, I thought, and life was hardly treating me well then. Would just be for a few months, mind," he adds, before Dream starts getting the idea that he hadn't wanted to live. Hob had always wanted to live. He just needed a break. "A year, maybe. But just... that you would..." he ducks his head, "take care of me. God, the things I'd do then for a loaf of bread, or a warm bed. Things I did do, for lesser men. Would do lot more for you."

"Like what?" asks Dream. His voice is... considering.

Surely Dream, being, well, Dream, won't find it strange? Hell, he's so damn princely, he'll probably just be vain about it. Still Hob takes a steeling gulp of his wine. "Anything you wanted. You were the only one that was kind to me then."

"Barely kind," says Dream.

"Still. When I was really deep in it I-- I used to imagine you'd just keep me there. Like a pet." It should be more embarrassing to admit, but Dream doesn't seem judgmental. And Hob has often found that confessing deep feelings to him is easier than it would be to any other person. "Figured I was just a curiosity to you anyway. In exchange for your kindness I'd have done anything. Knelt at your feet. Let you use me. Kept your cock warm while you conducted your-- your magical affairs of state, or what have you, God I could only imagine what you did with the rest of your time." It still stirs something in him to think of, even with no starving desperation to spur it.

He's still looking down, and hears rather than sees Dream lean forward in his seat, the shift of fabric, the creak of the table as he leans on it, letting himself have real weight. "This fantasy..." Hob looks up to meet his gaze, and the dark intent he finds there nearly knocks him out of his chair. "Is it one you would still care to indulge in?"

"To-- indulge in?" The words are barely choked out, the heat of Dream's gaze brands his throat shut.

Dream looks him up and down slowly. "If I brought you with me to the heart of the Dreaming for an evening," he purrs, "would you truly kneel at the foot of my throne? Let me show you off to guests? Would you..." he leans in closer, his fingers trip up Hob's throat, "submit, and warm my cock like a good pet, while I presided over my kingdom?"

Hob's never beating the monarchist allegations now. He nearly slides off his chair and kneels at Dream's feet right then. God, but Dream is a king like none the earth's ever seen. He's right out of a story.

Heart pattering in his chest, he says, "Would I?" It sounds less a question, more a plea. "Would you let me?"

"Dear Hob." Dream tips his chin up, studies him from under his lashes, thumbs over the corner of his mouth. An evaluation, and a caress. "You need someone to care for you. In my realm you would want for nothing. You would not need to fight, or worry about your next meal. You need only do as I tell you. And I would not steer you wrong."

Hob swallows hard. Dream is too good at this. Why did Hob think it was a good idea to share a fantasy with the King of Fucking Fantasies again?

It was a terrible idea for his sanity.

And a wonderful one, too. For as Dream spins the tale he can see it in the back of his mind, the vague and changeable sense of a dream, the all-consuming weight of Dream in his mouth, Dream's hands in his hair, his low voice above him, all else faded away as is the nature of dreams.

Dream hums in approval, and Hob remembers quite suddenly that he can sense daydreams, too.

Dream digs his hand into his hair, tips his head back just so. "This isn't fair," Hob croaks. "You didn't even share one of your fantasies yet."

"Perhaps I've adopted this as one of mine," Dream muses. He leans in and claims Hob's mouth, tipping his head further back, rises from his chair to lean over him. Hob barely suppresses a whimper. "In fact, I have a delegation from Hell due to arrive in the Dreaming for a negotiation tonight. It promises to be both dull and incredibly infuriating. Would you care to join me, and comfort your king during this trying time?"

"From Hell?" Hob squeaks. But Dream is looking at him with those dark eyes and Hob is helpless to him. Helpless to the pull of that fantasy.

"I will keep you safe," Dream says, a soothing, easy tone that makes Hob want to bend for him just as much as his intensity does. "You need not worry."

Hob's worried for his sanity more than anything else.

But he says, "Okay. All- alright then." He swallows down the lump in his throat that catches at the gleam in Dream's eye. He steels himself. Takes Dream's hand. Kisses it. "Take me to your realm, then, King of Dreams."

[emphistic]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’ 𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’

𝐀/𝐍: here's what you've all been waiting for . . . more preschool!sukuna !! — as thanks for 1000+ followers — also, also, big thanks to @domainofmarie and @beyond-your-stars for the idea !

𝐖/𝐂: around 1.7k

When you first met Sukuna, you thought he was a strawberry incarnate. Maybe it was his hair — which you were shocked to find out was natural, maybe it was his eyes — that seemingly glowed maroon whenever he was even slightly vexed, or maybe, just maybe, it was the way his pale skin turned a cute shade of salmon whenever you looked his way. In any case, you stood by your decision. — Sukuna was a strawberry.

And, if you thought hard enough, you would remember the times where you used to try and eat Sukuna. Yes, you read that right. Sometimes you would go up to your friend, grab one of his cheeks in your hands, and chomp!

Unfortunately, you did get in trouble one or two times, not because Sukuna told on you — he would never even think of doing such a thing, — but because Sukuna walked around all day with a bite mark engraved on his cheek.

You actually haven’t stopped this deed of yours. It’s become a habit, or an addiction, as Sukuna called it. But he didn’t mind. He never did. Not if it was about you.

But what he did mind, was, when people would try to take your attention off of him.

For instance, right now. You were seated beside Sukuna on the bus, and in the midst of trying to take a bite of your strawberry, whilst said strawberry was just staring out the window, letting you give your best efforts. [No, he did not give you the window seat.] Out of the blue, another one of your classmates approaches your row.

“Hey, guys! Can I sit next to you—?”

“This seat is taken.” Sukuna swiftly turns to face the boy and gestures towards the empty spot on your left. Albeit it was obviously not occupied, Sukuna didn’t even try to make up a better excuse.

“Umm, it’s actually—”

“Taken. It’s actually taken.”

Due to Sukuna’s unwavering glare, and clearly irked expression on his face, the boy clumsily shuffled away.

“‘Kuna,” you started, in that soft tone of yours — which never failed to lift his spirits, “he just wanted to sit down with us. And—and, no one’s sitting there anyway. Lying’s bad.”

“Yeah, well,” he huffed. “Next time I won’t lie, then. I’ll tell him he can’t sit next to you.”

“You mean ‘us’?”

“I mean what I said.”

“You’re the most confusing strawberry ever.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the strawberry did not get less confusing once you two arrived at your destination . . . the zoo!

Your teachers had originally planned to separate the class into two groups — in order to avoid chaos — but, when they noticed you and Sukuna already holding hands, they refrained from their decision of splitting you two up. They knew it would always end up being a battle they couldn’t win, no matter how hard they tried. Sukuna would never let go. And you, being you, wouldn’t let go either.

“Hey, Sukuna! Can you hold my hand? Those animals are scaring me.” A girl asked, once your group had reached the lion enclosure. You turned your head and saw the girl stick out her tongue at you. You frowned.

“Out of my way,” Sukuna elbowed her, sending her stumbling, “we—she wants to see the pandas.” Sukuna managed to successfully drag you a few feet away from your classmates before your teachers spotted the little attempt at “escape” and reprimanded you two, leading you guys back to the rest of the group.

Sukuna frowned, yet his grip on your hand never ceased. However, the frown soon flipped upside down, when your teacher guided the group over to the pandas. Sukuna noticed a growing smile on your lips, and hid his own, turning slightly away.

You pointed at the pandas behind the glass wall, “‘Kuna, look! They’re so cute! Aww, I want one as a pet.”

“Yeah? Then you’d have to clean up all their poop. Look at how big they are, and just imagine the size of their poop. It must be equal in ratio, y’know.”

You stifled a giggle behind your free hand, “Okay. Then . . . I would just make you clean up the poop and take care of the hard stuff. And I’ll do everything else.”

“Sure.”

You jumped up and down fervently, continuing to grasp his hand all the while. “Really? Yay!”

“Whatever.” Sukuna turned away from you, again, and worked hard to contain his laughter. You just looked so . . .

“Over here, everyone! Come this way,” your teacher yelled, making you guys continue on your way. “I meant everyone, Sukuna. Don’t stop your friend from listening to the teacher, didn’t I tell you? Wouldn’t want to leave you guys behind.”

Sukuna sighed, yet obeying nonetheless.

As your class left the animals encased behind glass walls, you passed by another enclosure on your way out. — A group of turtles.

You let go of Sukuna and ran up to the glass, pressing your face against it, not noticing the way your breath fogged up the glass. You gasped, loudly. “Woah! They’re all such pretty colors—ah!”

Sukuna pulled you back just as fast as the turtle came near the glass and banged on it with its flipper.

“What happened?” Your teacher asked, in a tone full of genuine concern.

“The sea turtle, it—it attacked me.” You pointed at said animal.

“No, it didn’t. You’re just being dramatic. It was behind the glass.”

Miss Wells’s eyes flickered between you two as you and Sukuna argued and bickered over what happened. When she realized nothing serious occured, she backed away. It was funny, she had to admit. The two of you were fighting while still holding hands.

“Hmph! It did attack me.”

“It didn’t even touch you.”

“Yes, it did.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Uh huh.”

Sukuna, this time, didn’t bother hiding his laugh when a gorilla beat its chest and you jolted in your position. But, he didn’t forget to squeeze your hand, assuring you nothing was going to hurt you. Not if he was there.

The rest of the day was spent seeing alligators, tigers, spiders, snakes, you name it. And, although you did get a little spooked a few times, you couldn’t deny you were totally bummed when your teacher announced the field trip was over. You didn’t even get to see your favorite animal yet.

As for Sukuna? He couldn’t deny he was totally bummed seeing you look so upset.

When your group rendezvoused with the other half of the class and loaded onto the bus, Sukuna helped you put on your coat, as the weather had decreased drastically.

You leaned your head on your strawberry’s shoulder. “‘Kuna,” you sighed, clearly exhausted after a whole day of fun.

“Hm?” He pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear.

“Why are you still holding my hand?” Albeit you were tired, you were never too tired to giggle.

“. . .So you don’t get lost. Duh.” It took Sukuna quite a bit of time to think of a decent answer.

“But, we’re on a bus. How would I get lost?”

“You never know.”

“You’re such a dummy. It’s literally impossible.”

“You’re pretty good at doing impossible things.” — Like, making his heart race, running through his mind all day long, giving him a feeling other than anger. You were a master at doing impossible feats.

“Shut up.”

“Oh yeah? If I shut up, then, how would I be able to give you . . . this!” Sukuna pulled out a stuffed plushie of your favorite animal of all time from behind his back, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life. And, maybe he was. You never know, right?

“Sukuna!” You gasped. Reaching out your hands in a ‘gimme, gimme’ manner.

“Not even a ‘please’? Not even a ‘thank you’?” Sukuna teased.

However, he didn’t have much to say once you leaned over and placed a wet kiss on his cheek, making a ‘mwah!’ sound as you did so. "Thank you, thank you! — So much!"

Sukuna touched his cheek with his hand, his face immediately reddening. All the while, you took your chance and snatched the plushie out of his arms, quickly cuddling it to your chest.

“When did you even get this?”

“. . .” He was broken, absolutely stupefied, and unable to speak.

“‘Kuna?”

“Oh, what? What did you say?”

“I said, ‘when did you get this’?” You repeated, still entirely focused on the animal in your arms.

“Right. . . I got it when you were in the bathroom. Spent all my money on it. I didn’t know gift shops were so expensive.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Of course it would be expensive, silly! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!"

He smiled. “I beg to differ.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt8

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You get to play with Wooyoung.

wc: 10k

ch. warnings: smut with subtext, everyone’s a switch but dom reader / San & sub Wooyoung for the first half, voyeurism / exhibitionism, sex tapes, BDSM, blindfold & bondage / shibari (@ Wooyoung), finger sucking, blow / hand job, sex toys; cock ring & riding crop (@ Wooyoung) & buttplug (@ reader), dirty talk, pain kink, impact play, dacryphilia, objectification, degradation kink, praise kink, Wooyoung is referred to as; ‘good boy’, ‘babygirl’, ‘(fuck)toy’ & ‘(pain)slut’, reader fantasises abt having a cock and Wooyoung sucking her off, copious amount of spit, cunnilingus, vaginal / anal fingering (@ reader), DP with a toy, creampie, condomless sex with IUD, masturbation, mention of San tiddies, safe word checks; ‘green’ & ‘yellow’ are used, aftercare, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘good girl’)

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: subtext aside, this chapter is pure smut lol — but the next one will get more into relationship development! (ᵔ◡ᵔ) there’s a pretty direct nod back to smth in the previous chapter so i hope it’s not been too long between updates, but i think it will still work either way! ♡

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

“There, your throne is all ready, princess,” San grins at you, spreading his hands in a flourish to present Wooyoung, showcased on the bed for your pleasure.

And a pleasure it is; Wooyoung sits up against the headboard with both hands secured to a bedpost, vivid red rope laid across his wrists with a simple column tie. Less simple is the mermaid tie that San used to trap Wooyoung’s legs together from knees to ankles, loops upon loops of crimson twisted around his limbs; just as effective at immobilising Wooyoung as it is aesthetically pleasing to the eyes.

(You’d had an unexpectedly relaxing time while San did his ropework, a hush in the bedroom as you quietly chatted and joked together; San kept his focus on perfecting the looping patterns, but there was always a smile on his face whenever you and Wooyoung broke out in a sudden giggle of anticipation. His practised fingers had proved their skill, tying Wooyoung up with swift precision — but you almost wished it had taken longer, enjoying the odd intimacy of your small pre-scene bubble.)

“‘Throne’?” Wooyoung snorts at San’s invitation, right as you laugh a surprised, “‘Princess’?” It’s not exactly in San’s usual arsenal of nicknames of you.

San shrugs, his bright grin undiminished. “We can try something else! Um… Your saddle is ready, cowgirl?” he says, giving you a wink. “Here is your altar, goddess?”

“I can’t tell if these are getting better or worse!”

“I can,” Wooyoung says, trying to be deadpan but his voice comes out strained. He shifts against the ropes, restless from all the attention you are not paying to him. “C’mon, can we get on with it?”

They’re the words of a brat — but there is a telling neediness in his eyes as he looks at you, utterly incapacitated. You bite your lip at the tightness in his face; and the rapidly growing wetness between your legs is just as telling of need.

You throw a leg across Wooyoung’s thighs to straddle him, careful not to touch the semi he’s been sporting ever since San first lined a rope just above his knees. “What’s the rush, Woo?” you coo at him, running a teasing finger up his chest. “You’re not going anywhere, we got all the time in the world.”

Wooyoung pouts at your light touch, but he visibly relaxes with you on top of him. “No rush,” he grins, and there is a bit more strength to the cockiness in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about me.”

Your fingers slowly walk up his throat, where you both see and feel him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing underneath your fingertips.

“Aw, feeling neglected?” you grin, pressing your thumb down against the mole on his bottom lip.

Wooyoung’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, catching your thumb as he does so. “A little,” he says, breathy already. “Thought you wanted to play with me tonight, not joke around with San.”

He moans sharply when your hand suddenly dives into his dark hair to yank his head back, exposing his neck to your teeth. Your bite is not enough to leave a mark, but plenty to leave a warning.

“I only play with nice toys,” you whisper sweetly, your lips ghosting against his ear. Your fingers relax to gently weave through Wooyoung’s hair, brushing the longish strands out of his face. “Are you gonna be nice to me?”

“Shit,” Wooyoung groans at the saccharine purr in your voice, “you’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” There is a pleased gleam of approval in his eyes.

Wooyoung is absolutely right; you are thrilled. He is all but helpless beneath you, tied up and antsy for your touch. How could you not be excited?

You have flirted with dominance in the past, but this is the first time you are in such complete control. Even San has taken a backseat; watching you and Wooyoung from the very chair that you had first watched them. His head is cocked to the side, piercing interest etched into his face — but he is only an observer to you and Wooyoung… for now.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” you grin at Wooyoung, giddy anticipation bubbling up and threatening to spill over the brim, and it takes an active effort to not break character. “But you did not answer my question.”

You grab for one of the items laying next to you, and lift your hand up to dangle a strip of ivory silk in front of his face.

“So. Are you a good little toy? Will you behave today?”

Just the sight of the blindfold causes Wooyoung’s breath to shallow, then his eyes dart back to you. Something burns in those dark eyes; something that can’t decide whether it is needy want or blatant defiance — but Wooyoung’s mouth has decided loud and clear. “Will you make me?”

“Hm,” you tut disappointedly, putting down the blindfold, “maybe I’ll go and joke around with San after all. If you’re going to be like that.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widen with alarm when your weight shifts off of him, his hands jerking against the restraints. “Ahh, no no, don’t—” he starts as you move away. “Stay, stay.”

(San chuckles quietly at the sudden change of heart, appreciative of how you’d used him as a tool to keep Wooyoung in line.)

You settle back on top of Wooyoung, marvelling at how the tension instantly falls away from him. Being completely tied up always makes him needier, but you are still taken aback by his need for you, for your touch. Like he can’t bear to part with you for even a second. A light current of electricity crackles through your veins, causing small sparks from the ever increasing awareness of how much power you hold over him right now.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you ask Wooyoung, your sweetened smile that drips with disdain. “You’re a well-behaved toy after all.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says breathily as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you freely this time around. “I’ll be the best fucking toy you ever played with.”

You bite down a moan at how pliantly he offers himself up to you. You accept his offer and press a hungry, open-mouthed kiss on the pretty column of his neck, right on a protruding vein. Your tongue catches against his heartbeat, every pulse throbbing with hot desire.

“Want me to use you?” you rasp, lightly grazing your teeth across his skin.

He whines at the excitement laced in your voice. “Whatever way you want,” he says tightly. “Just— Just don’t want you to go.”

Your eyes meet, and for a split-second you falter at the intensity of his gaze; like he is talking about so much more than just right here, right now. Your heart softens at his need, reaching a hand to gently cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promise him, and your thighs clench at how he melts under your touch. “Now, let’s have some fun, hm?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung sighs, beaming at you with a crooked smile. No cockiness, only anticipation.

Obediently, he bends his head just enough to let you put the blindfold in place. You tie the piece of silk around him, covering his eyes, and he inhales with a light shudder as sight is deprived from his senses. You make sure the knot is not too tight, and check if Wooyoung can still rest comfortably against the headboard.

Once it’s all done, you sit back to admire Wooyoung to take in the toe-curling view of him, completely and utterly at your disposal.

The blindfold’s ivory contrasts beautifully against Wooyoung’s tanned skin, almost giving him a soft glow; and the mole on his cheek peeks out from just underneath the fabric. His lean chest rises and falls with bated breaths, the red ropes keeping him firmly in place while he can do nothing but wait for you to make your move.

You lean into him with a languid sigh, one hand resting on his chest, the other playing with a lock of his hair. Your lips are a mere inch away from his; and Wooyoung has no idea of just how close you are.

The sheer depths of control you have over him now is dizzyingly overwhelming — and it’s a control that Wooyoung matches with equal depths of trust, willingly giving himself over to you. You can’t help a quiet moan at his subservience, steady pulses of arousal causing your cunt to leak onto Wooyoung’s thighs.

Wetness smears across his skin, and Wooyoung lets out a sharp groan when he realises what it is. “F-fuck,” he gasps, his hands bunching into fists before they relax again. “Baby…”

Wooyoung trails off with his lips slightly parted, his plump cupid’s bow begging for your attention. He whines when your nose brushes against his, and he arches forward in clear anticipation of a kiss — but two fingers firmly press against his bottom lip instead.

He lets out a surprised moan but does not hesitate for even a moment, slurping them down greedily. Your breath catches as his tongue swirls against your fingers, saliva rapidly gathering in his mouth and coating your kin.

Soon, a small trickle spills past his lips, messy and enticing. You eagerly lick up the trail, relishing Wooyoung’s shudder. “That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you praise him, and start a rhythm of slowly thrusting your fingers. “So hungry for something to stuff that mouth full. Do you suck San’s cock like this too?”

(San shifts at the mention of his name, readjusting the crotch of his jeans.)

“Hmah,” Wooyoung garbles, more spit dribbling down his chin as he starts to move his head best he can, hollowing his cheeks and curving his tongue around you. He forces your fingers deeper, deeper inside his throat, until he constricts around you with a choked moan. You bite down a whine, wiggling your hips against his lap to relieve some of the pressure building in your untouched cunt.

“God, look at you. So eager to get that tight throat fucked you’ll take anything,” you groan. Your own mouth is just as hungry as Wooyoung’s, pressing heated kisses along his jawline. “You’d suck my cock so well, wouldn’t you? Should get a strap just so I can see you choke while I fuck that pretty mouth.”

A loud, muffled whimper escapes Wooyoung, vibrating around your fingers. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like, to have every inch of you throbbing in the wet heat of his mouth, completely engulfed with pleasure while Wooyoung’s throat spasms around you as he milks you dry for all you’re worth.

The fantasy shoots down your cunt like lightning, and you tear your fingers away in sudden impatience. You stick your tongue down Wooyoung’s throat instead, meeting him in a sloppy tangle. He makes a surprised noise, but quickly sucks on your tongue with the same fervour he’d given your fingers.

A heady daze settles over you as you tug at Wooyoung’s hair to angle him just how you like, groaning into his mouth with growing desperation. He squirms underneath you, stifled moans drawn from his lips, but you want more, more.

“H-hey, no no don’t—” Wooyoung mewls, straining against the ropes when your mouth and hands pull away from him.

“Shh, I’m right here, babygirl,” you soothe him, and press your palm solidly against his chest, just so he can feel you. “’M not going anywhere, not when you’re laid out so prettily for me. Fuck, wish you could see yourself, served up on a platter, so fucking sexy.”

You keep up your steady stream of praise, careful to keep a point of physical contact with Wooyoung as you move down the bed, your hand running down his torso, down to his hips, his thigh, along every inch of feverish skin.

San had been insistent on that; always stay connected to Wooyoung when he is both tied up and blindfolded, either verbally or through touch. Give him something to anchor himself to, give him a piece of yourself so he does not get lost.

At the right moment, it gets Wooyoung off to be ignored a little, to either make him get bratty or work for the attention. This is not the right moment.

And even with his arms tied, you can feel how Wooyoung clings onto you; his body arching into your hand, moaning quietly at your words. He shudders when your breath falls on his hipbone, just shy of his half-hard cock.

“Hm, gonna suck me off?” he asks impatiently, shifting in an attempt to find your mouth, chasing the warm air of your exhales.

You pinch lightly at his thigh, causing Wooyoung to grunt at the unexpected sting. “Not if you’re gonna be pushy about it,” you tut. “Besides, there is something else to take care of first.”

You reach for a small item that lies in wait on the bed, along with some lube. Wooyoung makes a noise when your hand leaves his waist, but you adjust your body to push a little firmer against his legs, the loops of his mermaid tie pressing into your skin.

“Still here, Wooyoungie,” you assure him. “Just getting a little toy for my toy, so I can get the most out of him.”

“W-what is it?” he asks, his arms tensing against the restraints.

You know his mind must be racing right now; you and San had readied an assortment of playthings on purpose, just so Wooyoung can only guess at which you’ll use. The ball gag, the leather riding crop? The buttplug, the small bullet vibrator? More than one? All of them?

A tempting thought, but for now… It is the innocent-looking, silicone cock ring that you take between thumb and forefinger, carefully dabbing it with a few thick drops of lube.

“You’re about to find out, babygirl,” you purr at Wooyoung, and put a steadying hand on his hip.

He tenses in anticipation, and jerks against your fingers when the ring slides down his cock to rest at the base. You lean in to lightly flick your tongue at his reddened tip, your feathery touch enough to make Wooyoung moan again. It’s more awkward to position yourself with his legs tied, no space for you to nestle between his thighs, but still you manage to comfortably drape yourself over him and sink your mouth down on his cock.

It’s not frenzied, not like how Wooyoung sucked on your fingers before. Instead you work his length with steady passes, amusement sparking in your cunt when his hips try to cant upward, whiny gasps of your name escaping his lips as you take your time with him. You can feel Wooyoung harden on your tongue, his blood surging down and trapped by the silicone ring as he plumps up into a snug fit. You hum contently at the salty taste of precum, your nose brushing against his pelvis.

You meet San’s eyes right then, with Wooyoung’s cock nudging the back of your throat, and a jolt sears through you at the moment of contact.

He is leaned forward with an elbow on his knees, fingertips playing at his bottom lip. His other hand is pressed against his crotch, squeezing himself as he watches with dark, piercing eyes how you take care of his boyfriend. Something primal lurks in those eyes, hungry and protective all at once, but San nods at you in silent approval.

A sharp heat stirs in your core, knowing exactly what this means to San.

San has told you how responsible he feels for Wooyoung during a scene. You know how seriously he takes this — and now he has entrusted that responsibility to you.

You pull away from Wooyoung’s cock with a wet noise. A thin string of spit connects from the flushed tip to your lips, stretching until it snaps, and his shaky whimper sings through your heated blood. He is trembling, every sensation inflicted on him intensified by the blindfold, the bondage, the cock ring; to the point that he’s almost overwhelmed just by the brief attention of your mouth.

“You okay, Woo?” you ask, running a gentle hand over his thigh. “It fits right, not painful?”

Wooyoung bites down a whine, drawing a few sharp breaths through his nose so he can speak up. “D-doesn’t hurt, no.”

There is a shine of sweat gathering on his skin already, his cock looking thicker than usual, and you spot light muscle tremors in his stomach. “Colour?” you ask, just to be sure. You won’t let San’s trust in you be misplaced; or for Wooyoung to be anything but completely safe in your hands.

“Green, yeah,” he nods, oh so eager despite looking like he is on the brink already. “So green. Fuck, want you to touch me…”

His voice is pure blissful anguish, jaw falling slack with a loud moan when you settle back in his lap and satisfy his plea. “Doing so well for me, Wooyoungie,” you hum, fingers wrapped around his oversensitive cock, the pad of your thumb teasing at his leaking slit. “San is so generous, letting me play with you as much as I like.”

San’s attention flickers from Wooyoung’s wretched features up to you. His eyes are like black embers, the force of his gaze burning into you like a furnace. His face is drawn, furrowed lines etched between his brows as his lips slowly curve into a sharp, crooked grin, just a hint of teeth — and from the look of him, San would like nothing more than to sink those teeth into you and Wooyoung both.

“Nothing generous about it,” he says, a low growl lurking in the very edge of his voice. “I’m the one who gets to watch you break my fucktoy down into a sniffling, whiny mess.”

“He is real pretty like this, isn’t he?” you coo, running a hand up Wooyoung’s tensed stomach. His abdominal muscles twitch, a choked sob escaping him as he listens in on your and San’s conversation. “And he’ll be so much prettier after I’ve ruined him. Would be a shame if he never saw himself like that. Don’t you think he deserves to be the one on camera for once, Sannie?”

Immediately, Wooyoung’s volume control slips further out of his grasp, high-pitched and unintelligible whines catching on his breath. He strains against the bindings, the veins on his forearms more prominent than ever as his fingers grip at the rope tying him to the bedposts.

San’s eyes darken as he recognises his cue. Gracefully he unfurls himself from the chair, grabbing a small camcorder from the nightstand as he heads over. Wooyoung’s camcorder, a brand new purchase.

Wooyoung bites his lip when he feels the mattress dip under San’s added weight. “Make sure San gets my good side, alright?” he rasps at you. “He can’t take a picture worth a damn, don’t trust him to handle a camera either.”

You snort a laugh, mostly at the way San’s shoulders drop as he levels Wooyoung with a flat look that goes completely unseen by his blindfolded boyfriend.

“You’re getting sassy now?” you say, playfully tapping Wooyoung’s nose. “Bold, my beautiful cheeky boy, real bold.”

Wooyoung just grins, fearless, tongue running across his teeth. “Hey, I’m off-limits to San today. I can sass him all I want, right?”

It takes some effort on his part, but San does refrain from intervening. His tongue prods at the inside of his cheek as he raises an eyebrow at you in question, and you give a little nod to assure him it’s taken care of.

With that, San takes a slow breath and releases; entrusting you to handle it. He shucks off his t-shirt and slides in behind you, resting a large hand on your hip while his firm, muscular chest presses up against your back. His heat radiates into your skin as he tucks his chin on your shoulder, casually holding up the camcorder to capture Wooyoung on film.

“You can sass San all you like,” you hum at Wooyoung, reaching for one of the other props lying next to you, “but I think you’re forgetting about something.”

“Hm?”

“Me.”

Wooyoung’s breath catches when a soft patch of leather draws across his chest. His head tilts as he tries to identify the object, and he stills when he comes to his conclusion. “…Crop?”

“Bingo.” You give the riding crop a light twist of your wrist, snapping against Wooyoung’s skin without real force of impact. He still whines, completely on edge.

“Shit,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “It’s gonna be like that?”

“Afraid so,” you say with a pained, exaggerated sigh, slowly running the crop’s flap up Wooyoung’s chest until it presses against the side of his neck. “It’ll be like that until you apologise to San. Now, smile for the camera, won’t you?”

A bead of sweat runs down Wooyoung’s forehead, soaked up by the ivory blindfold. He swallows thickly at the sudden pressure on his neck, but it doesn’t deter him. “Apologise? What for? Sannie really can’t— hmnh!”

The crop strikes against the same place on Wooyoung’s chest as earlier, slightly harder. He jerks forward with a choked shudder, a budding redness marking the spot. The corner of his mouth twitches — as does his cock, flushed and glossy with precum and spit.

Wooyoung whimpers when your free hand cups his face, but he quickly sinks into the gentle touch. You run your thumb along his cheekbone, brushing against the blindfold. “So good to me,” you chuckle, amused at the way he tries to nuzzle into your hand. “You can’t extend that favour to San?”

He only huffs and presses a messy kiss against your palm, then another. Blatantly needy for you, blatantly ignoring your question; and you decide he has had plenty of warning.

“Mmh!”

The next swat of the crop draws a sharp, high-pitched keen from Wooyoung. His chest heaves, panting heavily as the sting fades away and leaves a new reddened blemish in its wake.

“Fuck,” you breathe at the sight of him; quiet awe in your voice, your heartbeat pulsing hard between your thighs.

A translucent wet gleam gathers on his stomach where the tip of his cock rests, leaking steadily. Wooyoung’s body had stiffened with tension on the moment of impact, but now he slowly goes slack again, mouth hanging open as he draws hard breaths. He groans when your thumb slips past his lips to press on his tongue, drool threatening to spill over.

“Are you getting this, Sannie?” you ask, using the crop to draw slow circles around Wooyoung’s newly marked skin.

San hums in confirmation, keeping the camera steady. “Such a pretty mark you left on him. Think he’d be even prettier with more.”

Wooyoung moans around your thumb, squirming against the patch of leather in anticipation.

“Tch,” San scoffs. “Look at that, how much he wants it. Your little toy is too much of a painslut to ever apologise.”

Your toy. A small yet significant change from how San spoke before; his relinquishment of Wooyoung over to you now fully complete. You swallow down a sudden lump, taken aback by how deeply a simple degrading phrase has hit you.

Wooyoung lets out a high whine at San’s words, twisting against his bindings and your weight in his lap. The sound snaps your focus right back to him, all else forgotten at the sight of his desperate state. His teeth graze against your thumb as he shudders, saliva slowly trickling down his chin.

You withdraw your thumb to lightly pinch at his cheek. “Is that true, Woo? Are you my little painslut?” you purr at him, landing another light smack with the crop — and the resulting cry is an unmistakable affirmative. “So you like it that much… Well, we’ll see how long you last.”

“Please…” he moans weakly, aimless, not begging for any one specific thing except for your attention.

You smile slowly, fully intent on giving him just that. You shift forward ever so slightly, Wooyoung’s cock only barely brushing up against your cunt. Wooyoung’s breath hitches at the unexpected feel of your glistening folds, giving a tentative twitch of his hips. He manages to just graze against your clit, but it’s enough for a moan to bubble up from your lips — a soft moan, that Wooyoung still hears loud and clear.

Even that tiny sign of your pleasure is enough to make Wooyoung whine again, and he clumsily tries to hump into you, hungry for more of your sounds. His movements are too restricted for any proper stimulation, but that does not stop him from the attempt.

You don’t stop him either; too amused by the awkward jerk of his hips, too enraptured by the way he groans your name in a stutter, mingled with raspy swears as he tries and fails to please you and himself. Instead you whisper encouragements at him, sweet yet cruel as you giggle at his ineffective rut. You run your free hand over his sweat-slicked chest, lightly thumbing at his sensitive nipples, just to tease him closer to that edge he can’t get to.

But you let him keep trying, revelling in every frustrated moan, every meager spark of pleasure… until you are convinced he is too lost in his chase to still remember the crop.

Without his sight, Wooyoung has nothing to warn him when you lift the crop up again; only the softest whistle through the air as the leather flap swats down on him out of nowhere. He cries out at the sting, a lone tear trickling down from underneath his blindfold as he convulses against your body and his rope bindings.

San groans softly from behind you at the sight, warm lips briefly pressing against your neck as his hand squeezes your waist. His fingers are clenched around the camcorder, still dutifully recording.

“Greedy boy,” you grin at Wooyoung. “Thinks he’s gonna get off easy without apologising to San, hm?”

This time Wooyoung is better prepared when the leather bites at his skin, but he still groans tightly at the fresh mark, closer to his nipple than the last.

You press your free hand on his hip to hold him down. “Keep still now,” you whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t want to mess up my aim, right?”

Wooyoung shudders at the sudden closeness. He turns his head, neck craning as though to find you in a kiss; and you fail to resist indulging him, gifting him a soft press of your lips, a slight brush of your tongue.

You pull back far too quickly to his liking, and Wooyoung fusses at the loss — but then you flick the crop again and pain blends into the neediness of his voice, debauched and beautiful.

His voice rises in pitch when you slowly roll your hips into him, it all the more difficult for him to obey your command to stay in place. But Wooyoung tries, he tries so hard, trembling every time you find a target on his chest. He chews his bottom lip raw with stuttered breaths, more tears spilling past his blindfold at every hit; but Wooyoung knows exactly what he needs to say to make you stop, so you keep going.

Sitting in his lap, pressed up close to him, you can’t quite swing the crop in full force — but that is no problem, not when Wooyoung already tethers on the edge of being overwhelmed. Even like this, there is enough strength behind the impacts to sear through him like he is struck by thunder, unending whimpers escaping past his bite-swollen lips.

Between impacts, you tease Wooyoung with gentle strokes to signal where the leather flap will land next; except when it’s a misdirection, and you pull back for a second just to aim elsewhere. His dick twitches against your cunt, precum oozing generously from the tip with every hit, every twist of your hips. You try to angle yourself so the cock ring catches against your clit, the different sensation adding another layer of pleasure to your slow, rocking pace.

San hisses out a low growl every time you push back into him; he has deliberately kept to the background as a fiery yet unobtrusive witness, but the obvious bulge in his jeans betrays how worked up he is.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have so much fun watching the recording later,” you purr at Wooyoung, trailing the crop back up to his neck for a moment of respite. He knows you won’t hit him there, but he still fidgets at the pressure, his breath coming in hard pants. His skin is flushed with sweat and red marks and feverish need. “Gonna get myself off over and over again, seeing you break down into such a wreck. Do you hear yourself, Woo? What a whiny boy you are for me, crying so prettily.”

Another sob breaks through, his arms shaking. His breath hitches when the crop starts to traverse back downward, knowing his respite is coming to an end.

“Or you could eat me out while I watch it,” you muse, circling the crop around his nipple, still sore from an earlier hit. “Stick that clever tongue down my cunt while you listen to yourself falling apart. I’d get two of you at once, god, just imagine how wet I’d be, dripping all over your face. Cum twice as hard too, right on your tongue. Would you like that, hm?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Yeah?” you giggle back at him, so cloyingly sweet it reverses back into mockery. “Well, we can do all of that… all thanks to San.”

San nips at your neck, his hand on your waist squeezing restlessly — but meanwhile, your idly talk has distracted Wooyoung just long enough that the low whistle of the crop swinging down catches him off guard completely once again, his entire body snapping taut at the impact.

“So…” You gently swat at him one more time, the touch almost soothing in comparison, “what do you say, Wooyoungie?”

Wooyoung lets out a feeble sniffle, his cheeks glistening wetly. He mumbles a weak “sorry”.

Carefully, you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, brushing away his tears. “What’s that?”

“S-sorry, San,” Wooyoung says again, his voice a little clearer this time. “Thank y-you for filming me.”

Right away, the riding crop falls forgotten onto the bed, and your now empty hand reaches to touch Wooyoung’s face; so he also knows the crop is gone.

“Fuck, you did so well,” you murmur, pressing a shallow kiss on his lips. “Such a good boy for me.”

You pepper his face with more soft kisses, as gentle as you can; Wooyoung looks close to overwhelmed, and his cock is still nestled between your folds, hard and aching. If not for the cock ring, he likely would’ve had his release long ago. You run soothing fingers through his hair, almost displacing the blindfold. “Wanna cum, my sweet boy?”

“Mhyeah,” he whines shakily, and you smile into another tender kiss.

But when your hands shift away from his face, down his neck and to his shoulders, Wooyoung shakes his head and whines a little louder.

“No, w-wait,” he hiccups, and immediately your fingers are back in his hair, one hand kneading the nape of his neck.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m here. What do you need, Wooyoung?”

He swallows, his breaths coming easier now that you are soothing him. “Can the blindfold come off?”

“Of course, of course it can,” you say quietly, giving him a little peck on the nose.

You reach for the knot and soon the ivory cloth falls away; Wooyoung’s eyes are bleary and unfocused at first — but they brighten at the sight of you. “There you are,” he croaks, and his wide, relieved smile clenches around your heart.

“Yeah, here I am,” you assure him, a little shaken by the force of his expression. Your own lips curl up in response to his dopey grin. “Can you give me a colour?”

“Green, now I can see you, b-but I can’t…” he mewls, squirming futilely, pushing his hips into yours. “Please, I gotta cum…”

“Fuck,” you groan, running a hand down his flushed chest, brushing against the plethora of red marks. “Don’t worry, my sweet babygirl, I’ll take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good.”

Briefly, your hand swipes through your wet cunt to gather arousal on your fingers, then they firmly wrap around his cock. He is hot and throbbing to the touch, and you don’t make him wait any longer, quickly setting a steady pace.

He keens as he tries to jerk into your hand, eyes squeezing shut and fresh tears brimming on his lashes. San curses from behind you, leaning back so he can catch as much on camera as possible; the slide of your hand, Wooyoung’s wrecked face, and every tremor of his body in-between.

Wooyoung’s mouth falls slack, a tremble in his jaw; his throat is too narrow for the overwhelming pleasure and relief that tries to escape his lungs, moans growing pitchier and more choked as both your hands now work his cock, twisting around the flushed head with every pass.

It does not take long, not now that Wooyoung finally has the stimulation he’s so desperately needed all this time; and when he cums, it is in thick, long spurts that catch on his stomach. You keep up your strokes for a while longer, coaxing more of him to spill out and dribble over your fingers until Wooyoung’s cries die down and he whimpers out a shaky “yellow”, his body perfectly spent.

You slow down right away, monitoring his expression as he softens in your hands. “Need to take the ring off now, okay?” you murmur at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be gentle, just hang on a little bit, alright? It’s just a moment.”

Wooyoung sniffs tearily but he nods in acknowledgement, and in the background you can hear the click of San closing the camcorder’s viewfinder. You dab a bit of extra lube on the silicone ring, your heart clenching again as Wooyoung bites down a whimper; but then you carefully remove the toy from his overly sensitive cock, and he sags in blissed-out relief.

A comforting warmth ebbs into the bedroom as you help Wooyoung drink some water and San frees his wrists. San moves on to Wooyoung’s legs afterwards, while you take a moment to rub his shoulders, then start to wipe him down.

“So good… made me feel so good,” Wooyoung mumbles sluggishly, lavishing you with the same adoring praise he always gives to San.

A touched giggle bubbles up inside your chest at his affectionate babbling, and you grin while gently patting the sweat off his forehead. “I didn’t take it too far? You were really out of it when I took the blindfold off.”

He shakes his head at you, sighing in relaxation when San frees his legs, starting on massaging his ankles to work his way up. “Nah, not too far. I just… just really needed to see you. Wanted to make sure you were still there.”

You can’t quite pin it down, but something about that answer doesn’t sit entirely right with you. In the moment, you didn’t feel like you had distanced yourself too much from him, using talk and touch to stay in contact, but now you second-guess yourself. However, Wooyoung is tiredly giddy in his fatigued post-orgasmic haze, using his newly freed hands to steal touches against your waist and thighs.

“Wanna make you cum too,” he says, an impatient whine lilting into his voice.

You bite down a fond laugh, concerns forgotten. “Wooyoung, you’re exhausted,” you point out, cleaning crusty streaks of cum off his stomach. “Rest up now, alright? You did so well, please take it easy for me. I’m more than satisfied, I promise.”

It’s the honest truth; even if you didn’t cum, the experience was beyond your expectations. You’re certain you won’t even need the video to recall every moment in vivid detail, and it will fuel many a self-care session in the future.

But Wooyoung is not satisfied, grumbly as he tries to cling to you, even if his every move is sluggish and heavy with tiredness.

“Woo…” you sigh in affectionate exasperation, trying to get him to settle back down. Sure, some days Wooyoung bounces back remarkably fast, but this is clearly not one of those days; he is worn out.

San watches it all with an amused grin, like he is completely unsurprised by Wooyoung’s antics. “Hey Woo,” he says after a moment, when he’s decided you have ‘suffered’ enough, “how about we agree on a compromise?”

Wooyoung’s eyes snap to San, then they wander downward with a longing glance at the still-present bulge in San’s jeans, like he’d rather handle that one personally too. “‘M listening…”

“How about you tell me what you’d like to do, and I’ll do it for you? Make her cum just the way you want,” San says, quirking up an eyebrow. He turns to you with a questioning glance, silently checking in.

A hungry curiosity instantly stirs between your thighs, heat sparking; for San to act on Wooyoung’s instructions? You’ve explored plenty of different dynamics in the bedroom, but never this particular one. It’s a significant contrast to the scene from before, but the more you think about it… An interest is definitely stirring in your body.

Wooyoung’s first instinct is to push back — but his stubborn expression turns thoughtful as the full implications of San’s suggestion sink in. “…Can I film you then?” he asks, licking his lips.

Again, San turns to you in silent question. By means of answering, you pick up the camcorder and make a show of inspecting it, brushing off some imaginary dust, then you hand the camera over to Wooyoung. “Go for it,” you tell him with a teasing grin, “go and show San the difference between a novice and a pro.”

“Hey—”

San pouts at you, but Wooyoung is getting eager now, fully onboard with this turn of events. “What about those?” he asks, gesturing at the unused sex toys lying on the side.

You and San both look them over, and after a moment of honest consideration you veto the ball gag and push it off to the side. “Not that one,” you say; you’re already a little tired from the scene with Wooyoung, nowhere near as exhausted as he is, but enough that you don’t need things to get that intense.

“That’s fine,” Wooyoung says, shaking his head. “Not what I was thinking of anyway. Wanna hear you properly.”

“What are you thinking of?” San asks, his hand idly running up your thigh. “What do you want me to do for you?”

A sharp glint flashes in Wooyoung’s eyes. “First, I wanna eat her out.”

You swallow down an immediate moan. “Wow, now there’s a shocker,” you try to joke, but yelp when San pinches your side, biting his lip at you.

“What, like you aren’t as hungry to grind on that nose as he is to drown himself in that sweet cunt?” San says, quirking his eyebrows. “Don’t pretend you don’t love what a slut for pussy our Wooyoungie is.”

“What can I say?” Wooyoung says with a shameless and crooked smile as he fiddles with the camera. “I know what I like.” His tired eyes twinkle at you, his voice lined with an excited rasp.

The atmosphere rapidly turns into an odd mix of intimate and almost a bit sleazy. Wooyoung directs you and San like it’s his own private little porn set; still lethargic but there is a slight bounce to his energy now, enraptured by the prospect of instructing San to have his way with you, and catching all of it on camera.

It does not take much for you to shift out of your earlier dominant mindset, content to let Wooyoung order you into the position he wants. He also makes himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged against the headboard. He only barely tolerates his boyfriend putting a robe around his shoulders to keep warm, impatiently pushing a pillow into San’s hands and ushering him to get on his knees.

(He does not close the robe, giving you perfect view of the slowly fading red marks scattered across his chest, and a few faint abrasions on his legs from the ropes.)

Wooyoung shakes his head with a “not yet” when San reaches for the button of his jeans; he wants to get that on camera. San pouts at his boyfriend, like he’s contemplating whether he regrets giving Wooyoung so much control over him — but Wooyoung grins and promises he intends for San to get his dick plenty wet tonight.

You clench at that promise, an impatient twitch fluttering in your cunt. You’re simply waiting now; lying on your back across the bed with one leg dangling off the side, the other propped up. Wooyoung is close enough that you can touch him if you reach out; and so you do, running a teasing hand over his ankle in the hopes of speeding this along.

“Anything else, Director-nim?” San asks, only half-joking.

Wooyoung shakes his head. “Nah, just do what you do,” he says, but then he pauses in thought. “Just… make her loud. Make her beg for it.”

“Fuck,” you whine, fully sinking into a submissive state. You can’t help but squirm at the way he does not even bother to give you further instructions; all he wants are your body’s natural responses, to witness how San dutifully breaks you down into a ruined mess.

Wooyoung’s hands are a little shaky as he flips open the camcorder’s viewfinder, pointing the lens straight at you. His grin is downright lecherous, eager to see his vision brought to life.

You shudder at the camera’s attention; earlier, San only caught your voice and glimpses of your appearance, but Wooyoung has you blatantly on display, the main subject of his perverted little movie project. San kneels down in front of you, a mischievous curve at his lips as he rubs a large, warm hand up and down your side, kneading at the soft meat of your waist. His dark eyes pierce into yours, airy puffs of breath falling on your drenched cunt.

You moan and try to arch up to meet him, but San pushes you back down with a firm hand. He looks to Wooyoung with silent intensity, obedience burning in his eyes.

Slowly, Wooyoung pans the camera across the length of your body, down to San who sits in wait. “Yeah, I like that,” Wooyoung murmurs, something catching in his throat. “Go on, get a taste for me, will you?”

San’s cool breaths are replaced with wet heat as he delves in with a quiet groan, using two fingers to part your folds to his obliging lips. His mouth suctions around your clit, his tongue flicking out almost testingly.

Gentle pressure coils inside you, your fingers scraping at the sheets as San picks up a slow but insistent rhythm that has you rocking into his mouth.

“No, no, let her,” Wooyoung rasps when San pins your hips again to hold you still. “Let her take what she needs.” A silent “for now” goes unspoken. “Fuck, I want to bury my face in that eager pussy, look at that fucking slick.”

San makes a pliant noise, immediately burrowing deeper as he presses harder into your cunt. He hooks your knee over his shoulders, making a point of squeezing at your ass as he pulls you impossibly closer against his mouth, all in accordance to Wooyoung’s wishes.

The energy between them is hard to pin down; maybe it’s Wooyoung’s lingering exhaustion, but it’s not like he aggressively bosses San around. San is the willing conduit of Wooyoung’s desires, responsive to even the faintest suggestion, and Wooyoung respects that willingness by not lording his power over San to get his way — it’s not like he has to, anyway.

Because once San gives his singular focus to something, he gives it everything. You can just barely see the faint, pretty flush that creeps over his face as he eats you out with noisy slurps, catching your arousal with broad, urgent swipes of his tongue. Soon enough he has you writhing against him with strangled whines, fucking his face with rapidly escalating desperation, your hands flinging down to tangle in his dark hair.

Wooyoung makes a noise of protest, quickly prying away your hand on the side that blocks his camera’s view — but instead of letting go, his fingers wrap tightly around yours, pressing your entwined hands against the bed.

“Careful, Sannie,” Wooyoung groans, his eyes constantly darting between the viewfinder and the real thing, unfolding right in front of him. “Not too quick. Savour everything she gives us, won’t you?”

San does just so, his fingers digging into your waist and ass to forcibly slow your rut down. A low growl slips past his lips, shiny with your essence, while he drinks deep with a rich hunger that holds its own in comparison to Wooyoung’s. Obscene squelches drift through the bedroom along with your pitiful whimpers, both caught by Wooyoung’s camera for prosperity.

Your mind starts to get hazy, coated in the intensity of San’s fingers digging so hard into your ass that you anticipate bruises, his mouth back at sucking on your clit to coax more slick from your trembling body.

This is a somewhat rare occasion; San does not actually give you head all that often. It’s not that San has no taste for it, it just happens to turn out that way when Wooyoung loves having his face used by you, you love using him, and San loves to facilitate that usage.

However, now San fully throws himself in this opportunity, groaning indulgently against your throbbing cunt as you drench his face with your tangy arousal. His vigorous attentiveness to your pleasure more than compensates for a lack of practice. Obediently he carries out Wooyoung’s instructions; not too quick, careful to extract as much out of your body as he can without allowing you to come undone on his tongue — but after your scene with Wooyoung, you have no energy left for dignity.

“P-please, Wooyoungie, wanna cum,” you whine, tugging at his hand as you turn your head to face him. A fresh jolt sears through your abdomen when you see the camcorder is pointed right at you again, documenting every second of your descend into mindless desperation, frame by frame. You only whine louder, convulsing against San’s hold as pleas tumble past your lips in a shameless appeal to Wooyoung’s mercy.

Wooyoung squeezes your hand, grin widening in delight at the footage you are providing him. “Good girl,” he hums, “making such pretty faces for the camera. Can’t wait to show you… You gonna watch this video too when I eat you out for real? Make a double feature out of it, starring you and me and our hard-working Sannie here.”

San groans at the praise, the vibrations rippling through your oversensitive cunt.

“Y-yeah, fuck please, please, let me cum…” you sob, your nails digging into Wooyoung’s hand. “So close, ‘m so close—”

Wooyoung huffs a quiet laugh. “What, you wanna cum while San hasn’t even had his cock touched yet?” he jeers. “Does that sound right to you, baby?”

With every mention of his name, San gets sloppier, his breaths shuddering as he laps at you with messy passes of his tongue. You sob when his teeth graze against your clit, and you pull roughly at his hair in a futile attempt to get San on top of you and immediately rectify the problem of him not having his cock touched. He grunts at the force of your grip, eyes rolling to the back of his head; but without an instruction from Wooyoung to move, San refuses to budge.

“Ahh, don’t worry baby, I’m just teasing,” Wooyoung giggles at your despair. “Can’t wait to see you fall to pieces for me. Look at you, you’re tearing up already… Gonna be such a mess when you cum, aren’t you? Just… one thing first. San?”

Wooyoung pans the camera over just as San pulls back, his face glossy from nose to chin, cheeks flushed. He is panting hard, with mussed-up hair and shaky eyes.

“You still good to go, Sannie?” Wooyoung asks, gentle concern woven into the question. “We’re almost there, alright?”

With decadent swipes of his tongue, San licks your juices off his lips, a renewed clarity kindling to life in his eyes at the sound of Wooyoung’s voice. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “What do you need? Tell me.” San grounds out the words like he is the one handing out commands now, and Wooyoung is quick to obey.

You whine when Wooyoung lets go of your hand to grab at the ignored toys — but you quiet down when you see what Wooyoung has picked. San’s grin is all teeth when he realises where Wooyoung plans to go with this.

“You really want to see her ruined today, hm?” San hums approvingly as he inspects the buttplug that Wooyoung just handed to him, along with the lube. “What do you say, baby? Gonna let me stuff both of your pretty holes for Wooyoungie?”

Not trusting your voice, you make a weak noise and tilt up your hips, angling your ass to San for better access. The gesture is met by a pleased groan from Wooyoung, and a blazing look from San as he hones in on your tight hole, perfectly on display for him.

You wiggle in anticipation as he squeezes at your asscheek and spreads you a little wider — so it is a surprise when San takes your hand to lube up your fingers first. “Be a good girl and get that pussy ready for me while I take care of the rest, alright?” he says, thoroughly coating your fingers with a slow, squelching slide.

“Y-yes San,” you say, the words barely making it past your throat.

San kisses the tip of your fingers and then guides your hand down, where you easily slip inside your soaked cunt with a lewd noise. You groan at the satisfying stretch, and soon enough a combination of lube, arousal and remnants of San’s saliva dribbles down to where San rubs his own slicked up finger around the sensitive rim of your other hole.

“Breaths, deep breaths,” San soothes you when he pushes inside, and you gasp out a shuddered moan at the pressure but manage to stay relaxed; the training you’ve been doing with San and Wooyoung is paying off. Still, San takes his time, slowly thrusting in and out a few times before he adds another, his mouth plying your inner thigh with gentle attention. You whine when you feel his fingers move against your own, hips moving on pure instinct to seek out more.

It’s not long before San decides you’re ready; the plug is not quite as thick as his cock, but still you pant at how it fills you up next to the three fingers in your cunt. You moan impatiently, antsy to have those fingers replaced by something far more satisfying. San chuckles fondly at your eagerness, his slick hand affectionately patting your ass as he stands up to his full height. Your breath hitches how his imposing frame towers over you, his hand squeezing at his crotch. Even through San’s rigid jeans, the outline of his hard cock is obscenely obvious.

“Slowly, take it off slowly,” Wooyoung groans hoarsely. “Let me get a good shot of that, fuck.”

Despite the strain he must feel, San gives Wooyoung and the camera a cocky grin, never one to pass up on an opportunity to put on a little performance.

He undoes the top button of his jeans, then tugs down the zipper one-handedly, simultaneously sliding his lubed hand up over his chest. The lube leaves a glistening trail right between the swell of San’s tits, all the way up to his neck where his fingers rest on his throat, thumb hooked underneath his chin. With heavy-lidded eyes, he tilts his head back just slightly, swollen lips parted.

Like that, San tugs his underwear and jeans down enough for his cock to spring free and slap wetly against his stomach, an angry flush at the leaking tip. Satisfaction flashes in his eyes when you let out a hungry moan, while Wooyoung bites down a heated swear.

Now that Wooyoung has the footage he wants, San unceremoniously shucks his clothing off the rest of the way. Despite knowing what will come next, your breath still catches when San clambers onto the bed, his heat bearing down on you as he crouches over your wired body.

You scramble back with him to lay fully on the bed, your movements made clumsy by urgency. It doesn’t help how San is already onto you, mouthing at your neck, grabbing at your plush thighs as his cock presses against your stomach. He groans unabashedly against your throat, nipping at the delicate skin.

Sparks surge through your veins as his cock slides through your slicked folds, and you can’t fucking wait to have him inside you, feeling oddly full and empty all at once with just the plug and no fingers, no cock, no nothing in your aching cunt. An injustice, as far as you are concerned.

Thankfully, Wooyoung agrees.

“Go on,” he presses, fighting to keep his hands steady. “You can’t wait right? Can’t wait to finally sink your cock inside that wet, willing heat. Always takes you so well, doesn’t she? Clamping around your thick cock like she never wants to be empty ever again.”

You whimper, arching up into San as Wooyoung rattles on — and San is as obliging as he has been all night, grunting tightly as he parts your lower lips and buries himself with one smooth thrust, pelvis meeting pelvis as he bottoms out with a loud grunt.

“Fuck, fuck, San—” you pant, scrambling to grab onto him. There is no pain, but still an overwhelming pressure of fullness that pushes out all else from your mind, nothing but a glowing thread of pleasure that coils tightly and stretches taut all at once.

Wooyoung gnaws at his lip. “That’s it. Slow,” he demands again, now filming one-handed while he reaches down to leisurely palm at his own hardening cock. “Fuck her slow, like you mean it.”

“I always mean it,” San growls against your neck, his hips jerking roughly forward. But he regains himself, easing into a heady rhythm that has your toes curling into the sheets as you move to meet him. His lips brush against yours, not truly a kiss, only a simple intermingling of breath as he gasps and moans with every sensual roll of his hips. Strong muscles ripple underneath your hands; as much with exertion as with restraint, his nails digging into your waist as he forcibly holds himself back from using his full, immense strength to pound you into the mattress.

Wooyoung’s breath picks up as he watches and slowly jerks himself off, matching pace. “Kiss him,” he moans. “Doing so well for us, don’t you think, baby? Fuck, won’t you kiss him for me, please.”

Eager to show yourself just as obedient as San, you dig your fingers into his hair and pull him in, slotting his mouth over yours proper. San whines as your tongue delves past his lips, flicking against the roof of his mouth before tangling with his, a wet messy glide as saliva builds up and a thin trail spills past your lips, down your chin. Wooyoung captures the sight on camera with a groan, his hand moving quicker.

“Fuck, g-go,” he says, his voice pitchy with need, “f-faster now. Wanna see you cum, both of you, wanna see…” Wooyoung trails off pitifully, hiccuping a small moan as the camera shakes in his hand.

San does not need to be told twice.

You cry out as he pistons into you aggressively, the kiss breaking when teeth nearly collide. Every ruthless slam of his hips reminds your body it’s stuffed from two ends, never completely empty with the plug still snugly fitted in your ass. San drives into you over and over again and the thread of pleasure pulls ever tauter, knots tightening, pressure mounting.

Your head spins from San’s single-minded chase for your mutual breaking point; but you have just enough presence of mind to purposefully turn your face towards the camera, giving Wooyoung perfect view of the tears gathering on your lashes, face contorted with blissful distress. He hisses a sharp breath, dick twitches against his palm.

San takes advantage to bury his face into the exposed crook of your neck where he harshly sucks into the skin, teeth catching with every thrust. Neither of you can last for long; you are too worked up from San prepping and eating you out, San is too worked up from obediently waiting all this time. The bed jostles underneath you as he bucks into your stretched cunt, throbbing walls parting pliantly for him.

It’s San who cums first, moans rising in pitch as his hips stutter — but he gives himself no time to breathe, reaching into thumb at your clit to mercilessly take you with him, and he whimpers loudly when you clamp around him. Your jaw falls slack, the thread unravelling faster than you can grasp, and you fall apart with San still fucking into you, your convulsing body wrenching every last drop of cum from him, draining him empty.

San winds down to a sluggish rut, and your cunt tiredly flutters around the lazy drag of his cock, only slowly letting you come down from your high. You moan weakly, using the last of your strength to move with San, to make sure he comes down slowly right along with you. Hot breaths falls against your neck, his mouth lingering on your skin with tender almost-kisses.

Wooyoung cusses under his breath, and you watch through watery eyes how he angles the camcorder back on himself. He shakily films the slide of his own hand as he cums on his stomach with a throttled moan, almost spilling onto the lens. Wooyoung takes a long moment to catch his breath and let the view linger, then turns the camera off with a tired, satisfied nod.

By now you have fully landed back down on the ground, your body slumping into the bed when San pulls out. Translucent streaks of cum leak out, down your ass and onto the sheets. You’re only vaguely aware of San massaging your thighs, warning you that he’s taking the plug out. You nod numbly, incapable of doing much more right now, and a quiet whine escapes your lips when San eases the toy from your body. The emptiness is almost more uncomfortable than the initial stretch; but it passes quickly, especially when San rubs soothing fingers around the sensitive rim.

Wooyoung puts the camera away and as soon as it’s safely on the nightstand, San pulls at his arm to yank him into a big cuddle pile, wanting the closeness to last for just a moment longer.

The bedroom goes quiet in the exchange of soft touches and murmured praise, limbs so deeply entangled that you’re not sure you can ever extract yourself from their hold. You burrow a little closer into San’s pillowy chest, hug Wooyoung as he clings onto you with an iron grip, and stay in their arms for as long as they’ll let you.

[onlymingyus]

Shut Up (teaser)

pairing; wen junhui x f reader (ft. xu minghao)

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

summary; You think you know about the world around you, but one day you find out you don't know anything. When you start to fall about it's your boss Wen Junhui who picks up the pieces and keeps you safe. 

content warnings; a lot of dark themes including: sexual assault, murder, guns, knives, beating, fighting, selling of guns, selling/using drugs, alcohol/eating, crying and dealing with trauma, mild dubcon. mob boss!junhui, second in command!minghao, security!mingyu, assistant!reader.

smut warnings; hard mean dom!junhui, sub!reader, dom!minhao. unprotected/protected sex, creampie, threesome, multiple sex scenes, rough sex, impact play, degrading, pet names, degrading names, dumbfication/objectfication to a degree, hand job, fingering, oral (m&f receiving & giving), crying/dacryphilia, innocence kink (no explicitly said), breast play, body worship. I am very certain I have left something out.

w/c; 35.9k and some change (1.2k this teaser)

a/n; this fic is for my @onlyhuis. thank you for not only editing this for me but supporting me every single word along the way. i hope you enjoy this one so so much my little huihui. with that said -- this fic is VERY dark and could be a lot for some of you to read. please be sure to read the warnings before reading so that you are prepared for what you are reading.

this fic will be released 5/15 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

“I literally don’t give a fuck. Get his ass out of my sight.” 

Your brows raise as you look down at the tablet in your arms when the sound of your boss's voice rings through the bar. Someone had pissed him off and you were just happy it wasn’t you this time. Wen Junhui was an important man to a lot of people and for a lot of reasons, most of those reasons you chose to ignore and just do your job. 

There were a lot of things in your job that you had to ignore in order to keep it. Things like money appearing in large quantities with little to no explanation and meeting someone only to never see them again after they opened their mouth just a little too much. 

Glancing towards Jun’s office, you watch as one such man is being pulled out by Xu Minghao, Jun’s second in command. You meet the desperate man’s eyes only briefly before dropping yours, but it’s enough to give him hope as he pulls against Minghao’s arms, trying to move back towards the bar where you were standing. 

“Hey! Hey, lady, pretty lady! I'm in here all the time. You ‘member me right?” 

Scoffing, Minghao shakes his head, nodding towards security at the front door for help. You watch under lowered lashes as Kim Mingyu takes one of the man’s arms, helping Minghao drag him towards the exit as he continues to ask you for help.

“I had the fuckin’ money! This is bullshit!” 

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding when Minghao walked back through the door, letting Mingyu shut it behind them. Wiping his hands off on the front of his shirt, the man lifts his eyebrows at you as you try to look busy with your previous task.

“You’ve been told not to look at trash when I’m taking it out. You don’t remember things very well to be so pretty, Y/N.” 

Sighing, you finally meet Minghao’s eyes as he leans against the bar in front of you. You knew what you had been told; it was just that it was easier said than done to ignore something kicking and screaming as they were being dragged out of a building. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone to the back when I heard Mr. Wen ye–express his displeasure.” 

You watch as a smirk pulls at one side of Minghao’s lips when you correct how you talk about your boss and his best friend. He had a soft spot for you and he knew you were doing your best.

“‘Least you know what you should've done.” 

“Hao!” 

Looking back towards Jun’s office when his name is called, Minghao purses his lips and pats the bar with his hand before giving you one more lingering look. You watch him until he disappears into your boss’s office and the door is left cracked so that only a low conversation can be heard. 

You spent most of your days and nights at Moonlight Lounge. Since you had been introduced to Jun and taken on the unique position of his personal assistant, your life had changed dramatically. You were in charge of managing most of his personal accounts—but never his business accounts—and you were the one who kept his schedule to the minute. 

“Y/N!” 

Hearing your name being yelled by Jun wasn’t an unusual occurrence but he didn’t sound pleased, though that wasn’t a new fact either. You weren’t friends with your boss and you weren’t sure if you ever would be. 

Holding the tablet closer to your chest, you glance towards Mingyu, who grimaces at how your name was said before turning away as you turn towards the office door. Everyone knew that one moment could make or break how your day was going to go at the lounge, and you had caused more of a disturbance by looking at the man as he had been dragged out. 

Knocking on the door, you slip inside, feeling two sets of eyes on you as Minghao sits against a sidebar console on the right of Jun’s desk and Jun himself sits behind the large desk with a frown on his face. Lifting your eyes you try to skirt around Jun’s eyes but the man leans his head to catch your gaze before sighing and pushing his tongue into his cheek.

“Sit down. Jesus Christ…”

He was in a mood and there was nothing you could do to change it. Slipping into the leather chair, you clear your throat and rest your tablet on your lap, straightening your spine so that you feel taller and less small under Jun’s gaze. Lifting his hand, he pushes his glasses up his nose before reaching for the tumbler of whiskey in front of him, taking a sip and sitting it down hard. 

“Tonight we have some important guests coming to the lounge. I want to make sure we have some of the girls prepared to serve them but I want you to steer clear of that section.”  

Furrowing your brows, you give him a confused look when he doesn’t yell at you for what happened but instead goes to your task for the night. Glancing towards Minghao, you slide the pen from your tablet and stutter for a moment before opening the notepad to take notes. 

“I–wh–oh…sure. Do I know who the guests are? So that I can tell them? And so that I can make sure there are adequate refreshments for their visit.” 

Jun narrows his eyes at you before letting them move along your frame appraisingly as you switch into assistant mode and out of scared little kitten mode. You were stunning and when you wanted to be, you could be fierce. You had shown it on more than one occasion but Jun still had an urge to keep a close eye on you, like he did anything else that belonged to him. 

“They are…” Smirking, Jun looks over to Minghao, lifting his hands in a question before sighing. “Competition and nothing more, darling. Don’t give them top shelf; we don’t serve that to those who don’t deserve it.” 

Swallowing hard at the pet name, you make some limited notes as Jun watches you carefully. It wasn’t the first time he had called you darling or some other variation of a pet name, but it still made you nervous every single time. Rolling his eyes, Minghao crosses his arms and leans his head back as he watches Jun stare at you. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if you didn’t. 

“I think that handles everything. Make sure they are happy, but not too happy. I want them to be jealous of what they can’t achieve. You get what I’m saying?” 

Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, making Jun tilt his head as he watches intently. You mutter to yourself, writing down a few of the waitress's names along with your suggestions for how the guests should be handled before looking up to meet Jun’s eyes and feeling your cheeks burn at how he is looking at you. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Wen. I’ll take care of everything.” 

Gesturing towards the door, Jun smirks as you pop up out of your seat quickly, ready to leave. He knew he was intense and he knew you were crumbling under him. He wanted you under him in more ways than one, but he had patience and an inkling of respect about him. 

“Good girl. I’ll see you tonight then.”

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[lovifie]

Hey there Lovifie.

I hate to bother you but can I ask for a request?

You see the thing is that I’ve been having a few bad weeks lately and the news I got today just really pushed me to the point that I can’t stop crying now.

Long story short, I’ve applied again for another promotion within my department for my job; this would be the third time I’ve tried for one and for the third time I was passed over for someone else. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong; why they're not choosing me. I’m doing everything they’re asking for, going above & beyond for them and more but apparently it’s just not good enough for them. I just don’t know what else I can do.

Now I feel like I’m not good enough for anything; I'm confused and it hurts. Can I please request a comfort fic of John Price or Poly141 comforting a curvy, Mexican female reader who just feels like she's not good? Please? 🙏🏽 💔

My dear, you are never ever a bother. I’m really sorry to hear you have been having the last couple of shitty weeks, I sent you a message before and I hope this cheers you up a bit and everyone that may be having a rough time 🩷

I did it with poly141 because if we are looking for comfort we are going all out!!

The boys are back home and you know it, they got home last week, spending most of the time together, bathing in each other comforting proximity, helping them decompress after their deployment. 

You didn't tell them about what was troubling your mind, they already have enough on their plate and you didn't want to bother them. Or that's what you thought it would be, a bother. 

That's why you are standing before the door, knowing you have to enter but trying to recollect your feelings to be able to portray a happy face when you finally open the door. 

But the door opens before you want it to, Simon's brown eyes staring at you. “What are you doing, lovie? The motion camera is going nuts…” he trails off, looking at how you try your hardest to look fine. “Everything alright?”

You quickly nod, walking past him, kissing his cheek standing on your tip toes. “Yeah, all good. Was trying to remember where I put my keys.” You laugh, thinking that it is believable as you enter. He doesn't buy it but chooses to stay quiet. You will talk when you need it. 

You leave your bag on the floor next to the door, taking off your shoes and Simon helps you take off your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Johnny's. “How was work?”

“Horrible.” You think, but instead, you sight and murmur. “Tiring.”

“Did I hear somebody say they are tired?” Johnny's voice beams in the room when he walks to you like a happy puppy, hugging you from behind and hiding his face on your neck. You move your hand back to pet the back of his head. “You tired, mami?”

You nod, with a smile on your face. Closing your eyes when he kisses your cheek squishing your face with his. “Then eat dinner and straight to bed.”

“No shower?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, you are still clean for a couple more days. Right. Or are you stinky?” He says, moving his head back with a confused expression on his face, only for him to hide his face again in your neck making you chuckle when he sniffs your smell dramatically hard. “Yeah, not stinky.” 

He pats your butt, as in signing the deal that you don't need to shower and you smile shaking your head. 

His silliness is almost enough to make you forget the hardness of your day. Almost. 

“Is she home?!” Kyle's voice sounds from the kitchen and you follow his voice like a moth to the light. Hearing Simon tell Johnny to go shower his stinky self, making him whine. 

“Hi, Riri.” You say, using the nickname he hates so much. 

He groans, scrunching his face at you making you laugh. “I'm not Rihanna, love.”

“Hm, but you sound just like her when you shower.” You say hugging him from behind, he is standing in front of the stove, taking care of dinner. Some kind of pasta getting boiled while he works on the sauce on the pan right in front of you. 

So close to it, that when Kyle moves, threatening to tickle you for teasing him, you move your arm to shield yourself. But your forearm crashes with the pan, making it fall and burning you in the process. 

Kyle manages to catch it by the handle just in time before burning himself or spilling it all over the floor. He turns off both of the stoves, to make sure nothing burns while he checks on you. 

“You alright, love? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stood so close.” He says, but your eyes are glued to the spot of sauce on the ground. Almost nothing fell from the pan, barely enough to fill half a glass. 

But the thought in your mind makes you write it at the top of the list of things you have fuck up. And it makes your eyes tear up with the feeling of simply not being good enough.

“Sunshine.” Kyle calls you, cupping your face so you will look at him but his eyes follow you, seeing the sauce on the ground. “Hey, hey, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks making you inhale to try and calm yourself down. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

“Hey, what happened to Riri?” He asks with a kind smile on his face. “Don't apologise, love. It's okay, there is more sauce stuck to the spoon than on the floor, love. No problem, alright? Everything is fi- you are burnt!”

He cuts himself off when he sees your skin red with the burnt, he grabs your wrist pulling you to the sink to move your arm under running cold water. “I'm sorry, love. Poor baby…”

“Hi, mami.” Price says entering the kitchen, he must have just come out of the bathroom. Possibly kicked out by Johnny, because he enters the kitchen only wearing his pyjama pants, hair still moist. You look at him, eyes wet with tears making him furrow his eyebrows in worry. “What happened?”

“Little cooking accident, nothing to worry about.” Kyle answers, rubbing circles on your hand still under the water with his thumb. “Can you pass the mop, please?” Kyle asks, pointing with his face to the sauce on the floor. 

“I'll do it.” You say, trying to pull your hand from Kyle's grasp. “I spilt it, I'll clean it.”

“Nonsense, you and I are bothering Johnny to grab the burns cream from the bathroom. Let's go, we might see his bubble butt if we are lucky.” Kyle jokes, winking at you, trying to get you to smile. 

But you are already too deep in your own thoughts to do so, you sigh, rubbing your eyes at the sting of your tears and shaking your head. “I'm fine, I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed.”

“Without eating?” Simon walks into the doorframe, handing the mop to Price who cleans the floor keeping an eye on you. “Are you grounding yourself or what, love?”

And you try your best to not cry, to hold it in, at least until you are in your room, with your privacy to cry yourself to sleep. But then Johnny also walks in, talking about if anyone knows where his towel is; and his blue eyes catch yours, shining with worry when he sees your tears.

“What happened?” He asks, repeating Price's words without knowing it. 

You look at them, the four pairs of eyes looking at you, expecting an explanation, worry and curiosity clear on them. And it only makes your eyes sting more with a new batch of tears that easily roll down your cheeks. 

It makes you cover your face with your hands, sobbing softly against your palm. One of them hugs you, pressing you against his body and you know it's Price for the warmth emanating from his naked torso. 

“Let's go to the living room, the kitchen is too small for five people.” Simon comments, his hand resting on the small of your back, caressing comforting circles on it. 

When you don't move, Price moves his hands under your armpits, raising you to hold onto him like a koala. Crying on his strong shoulder like a baby, a big baby.

He sits down on the sofa, moving you so you are sitting on his lap sideways, your face still hidden on his neck. You feel everyone else find their place around the two of you. Kyle is sitting next to Price on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap, his warm hand resting on your calf under your trouser warming you up. Johnny is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his hand resting on your ribs, moving up and down as well, moving slowly to help you breathe slower. And Simon is kneeling on the floor behind the sofa, one arm bendt on the backrest of the sofa to lean his head on it and the other hand petting your head, brushing your hair. 

But no matter how comforting his touches are at the moment, the door holding the tears in has been opened and they are rolling freely down your face into Price's exposed shoulder. 

It's long after that, that you manage to breathe normally again. Still hiccuping but now oxygen getting to your lungs. 

Simon is the first that you look up, moving your hand from Price's shoulder to grab Simon's finger, the man curling his finger pulling your hand to his. A soft smile on his face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Price looks over your shoulder, using his thumbs to dry the tears from your face, kissing your cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, the only answer he gets from you is in the way of shrugged shoulders. 

Simon stands behind you, letting your hand fall onto Kyle's and groaning when his knees pop as he stands up. He sits on the opposite armrest from Johnny, next to Kyle and looks at your face when Price moves you lower so you are resting your face on his chest. 

“What's wrong, love?” Price asks looking at you, his hand petting your thigh. 

“I… I just keep fucking everything up…” You admit, voice tiny, afraid that if you speak any louder the tears will return. “I ruined dinner, I ruined tonight, I ruined everything…”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks behind you. “You haven't ruined anything, lass. Everything is right.”

“Surprisingly, Johnny's right, love.” Gaz says, Johnny making an offended noise behind you. “Nothing is ruined, love…”

“Did something happen at work today?” Simon asks, regretting the moment you lock eyes with him and your eyes glisten with tears. 

You nod again, melting into Price's arms. “We are proud of you, you know that right?” Price says, making you sob again. “We were proud before today, we will be proud tomorrow, we were proud of you weeks ago and we will be even more proud of you in the future.”

“You don't even know what happened…” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“We don't need to.” Johnny says. “We know you. And we know that you always try your best, that you work your ass off and that you are a bloody good worker, love.”

“Yeah, I just need to make my boss see it too.” You mumble, sadness being replaced by annoyance. 

“We can always murder him.” Simon says, earning himself a group groan of his name. “I'm just saying.”

“What Simon's trying to say.” Price says, turning to you again. “Is that if all four of us can see it… he will eventually see it too.”

“Yeah, it's his fault he is so stupid it's taking him so long.” Gaz says, smile on his face.

“But I'm tired of it…” You admit, pout on your face as you lean your head back onto Johnny, the man resting his hand on your face, caressing your cheek. 

“That's normal, love… How about we take care of you, him?” Johnny asks, making you look at him. “Let's have dinner, then you and I take a stinky bath, and then… a movie? Some cuddles? Sounds good?”

You nod before answering. “Yeah… sounds really good.” 

All of them but Price stand up at your words. “Dinner time it is, boys.” Gaz says, walking into the kitchen as Johnny and Simon set up the table.

“Should we help them?” You ask Price, looking over his shoulder. 

“Nah, they can themselves.” He answers, cupping your face to give you a peck on your lips. “You are amazing, love… don't forget it, alright? You are more important than your job, a promotion or anything going on, alright? We love you, cariño.” He says, accentuating the “r” to make you smile.

And later, when you are sitting down with the four of them at the table, the only thing you can think about is about how lucky you are.

[i-love-scarameowche]

beloved pet

CW : nsfw, fingering, soft sukuna, pet and master dynamics(kinda), worshipping, blood mentions, fem!reader.

divider credits : @cafekitsune

"Pet."

You hear Sukuna speak as you sit where he left you with your head lowered. You look up just a bit, no more than you've been allowed to. Only seeing the feet of Sukuna, a small smile graces your face, your hands neatly folded in your lap, despite the harsh ache in your knees.

"Yes, lord Sukuna?" You respond in a gentle tone, so much sweeter than the man–curse–you care about so deeply. "Clean me." Sukuna hisses, obviously agitated from a cause you have an aching suspicion you know.

You quietly nod, standing up with your hands still folded in front of you as you walk over to your beloved. The closer you get the more you see of him, and you realize that you were, in fact, correct. Sukuna's kimono is splattered with blood, but your smile doesn't falter as you reach over to disrobe him. The bulking curse doesn't say anything, allowing your soft hands to guide his arms out, leaving his clothing to pool at his feet.

Sukuna says nothing as you walk with him to the hot springs very close by, and he walks into it and sits down as you follow, shedding your clothes as well. You step into the warm water, moving to rinse and wash the blood off of Sukuna as he closes his upper eyes, letting you bathe him as his lower eyes watch you. Your hands wipe away the blood from Sukuna's rough skin, before you grab a cloth from the side and begin to use that as well, to clean more.

You finish cleaning his upper body and pause. "Stand, please?" You quietly ask. Sukuna grumbles and scoffs, but he stands up, the water spilling off his body and making ripples as he does. You move to wash his strong hips and muscular thighs, and the space between them. You've seen Sukuna like this far too many times to feel flustered.

As you finish bathing Sukuna, he sits back down, leaning his head on one of his many hands. You step away, moving to get out of the water. "Wait." Sukuna grunts, and you pause. "What would you like me to do, my lord?" You politely ask, turning around and looking at him. "Just sit." Sukuna scoffs as though he's annoyed, but you move to sit beside him nonetheless. One of Sukuna's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him.

You're practically sitting on his lap now, your right thigh pressing against his left. You only sit there, your lower body being enveloped by the warm water.

After only a few seconds, you hear Sukuna speak up again. "On my lap." Sukuna hisses. You apologize, before you move to sit on Sukuna's thigh. One of his hands come up, and he starts to stroke your hair, rubbing strands between his fingertips. Sometimes you wonder if Sukuna really thinks of you as a pet, though it doesn't matter too much if he does. At least it means you mean something to him.

You feel one of Sukuna's other hands rubbing your side before creeping down to your abdomen, his thumb rubbing your stomach, his hand covers so much of your torso. Your thighs tense a little, you can feel your cunt pulse, causing you to rub your thighs together a little.

"Do you want my fingers to get you off, pet?" Sukuna states bluntly, you can hear the smirk creeping up on his face. "If you would want to indulge in my desires, my king, I wouldn't mind." You respond, your voice quivering just a bit as Sukuna's hand moves lower, his fingers pushing your thighs apart. His strong hand moves closer to your cunt, his thumb pressing softly on your clit as another finger starts to dip inside of you.

His fingers are long, yet thick, and as the first of Sukuna's fingers fills you, pressing on that sweet spot, you let out a soft moan. He begins to move his finger in and out of you, slowly at first but steadily increasing in pace. Soon, he adds a second digit, the stretch feels good, as you lean back a little, onto Sukuna's strong arm. He rubs your clit with his thumb as he continues to use his other fingers to stretch you out. 

You let out shaky breaths and moans, your pussy clenching around his digits. Your abdomen tenses and you start to buck your hips forward, more into Sukuna's fingers. Normally he'd make sure you don't move like that, and he'd be more stern. But he doesn't feel like that today. His hand that was playing with your hair lowers, before lightly pinching one of your nipples and slightly twisting it. 

You let out a moan, a bit louder as your eyes flutter shut. You feel your cunt spasm around Sukuna's fingers, cumming on his digits while his fingers keep moving, riding out your high before you shakily pant. He pulls out his fingers and leans his head on one of his closed hands.

"Th-Thank you..my lord.." You shakily breathe out, causing Sukuna to move one of his hands to pet your head. You feel his hand rubbing your cheek gently, as he leans over a bit. His lips are soft against your forehead, and you still feel them even after he pulls away. Sukuna pulls you a bit closer, leaning back with you more directly in his arms.

notes : this was a request from Wattpad that literally took me months, but I'm starting to write again !!

[hyuny-bunny]

skz + types of p*rn they watch (w/links) pt 2. maknae line

MDNI (+18) content warning: p*rn, nsfw links, mentions of rough sex, use of female anatomy, most afab reader terms. hentai, sub male dynamics, edging, tentacles, oral (both m and f receiving), public, corruption, size kink, spanking, pet names (miss, princess, slut), p*ssy slapping

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on the first one i'm so glad i get to make a part 2 hehehe enjoy ☺️

pt. 1 hyung line

jisung: hentai... that's it. kidding (kinda). in all honesty i think he gravitates to hentai. he enjoys the over exaggerated tits, ass, cum, cocks, moans, etc. but i think he really likes tentacle hentai. i could 1000% see him buying a tentacle grinder to rub his pretty cock on. but if he's not in the mood for that, i think he's one for sub male porn. he wants someone to put him in place and use his pretty cock, edging him until he can't take it. in the same breath he also needs praise. he just wants to be a good boy for you

rewards for being a good boy

his favorite hentai 🤍

"you're such a good boy, jisungie, give me one more and then you can cum, okay?" this was hannie 5th orgasm ruined. he was a whimpering, crying mess under you but all he could utter out was "y-yes miss"

felix: i know so many people think he's just a sweet sweet boy who is all rainbows and sunshine but id argue he just hides he's cheeky side. he's a flirt and knows it, it's all masked under his love for physical affection. i think he leans more into porn where the male is being serviced more. i think he goes feral for those under desk blowjob videos. everytime he's at his desk gaming, he coaxes you into giving him head while he plays. he's also keen on a bit of exhibitionism, having you wear pretty skirts and sundresses that give him easy access to use you.

another underdesk moment

public teasing

"please princess, i promise this will be the last game and if i lose im all yours for the rest of the night" felix pats his lap with this. he'd promised you that if you blew while he played this game & he lost, he'd throw in the towel to be all yours for the night. you weren't gonna cave that easily... right ?

seungmin: my sweet puppy. i think he wants to believe he's more dominant then he actually is. i love mean dom seung but i also love submissive puppy seung. depending on his mood, alternates between mean dom porn or sub male porn. when he's leaning into his mean dom side, he loves watching a whimpering slut begging for her holes to be filled. reminding him of all the times he got you begging him to touch you, having you ride him with your hands bound.

subby seung being edged

rough seung using you

"please seung, just use me, i'm yours baby please use my pussy." seungmin had been playing with your pussy for the last 30 minutes with your hands bound and he casually scrolled through his phone.

"sorry pup but that just cost you another 5 minutes, if you stop being such a whiny slut i'll give you want but you have to behave." he winds his hand back landing a slap on your pussy with that.

jeongin: this man does things to me. he's a switch no doubt but my god does he love to dom. he gives me the vibe that he watches JAV. he really likes the shy timid girls being corrupted from start to end. the ones that like to be touched in public, fucked into submission. granted with as tall as he is, he also has a size kink. more so now with as muscular as he's gotten. he likes the idea of having you bent over and his lanky legs are towering over you while he's got you head locked to moan directly in your ear.

pussy hungry jeongin

spanking + playing w you

jeongin's tongue was a blessing and a curse, he'd been latched to your cunt since you walked into his room with no breaks. the lapping sounds of his tongue was enough to make you cum but he wouldn't allow it. every now he'd pull back to give your lips a sloppy kiss and then continue his ministration between your legs, holding your thighs open with his shoulders and hands.

[weird-is-life]

Doted on

Pairing: Spencer Reid x nurse!fem!reader

Summary: Spencer gets thrown head first against the wall, and you take him home from the hospital

Warnings: fluff, mentions of hospitals, headache, concussion, use of y/n and pet names

Words: 0.9k

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer is currently sitting on a hospital bed with a really awful headache. And a concussion. The case went a little bit wrong while catching the unsub. He got thrown against the rock-hard wall, and it's safe to say he hit it head first.

The entire team is in the room with him as the nurse instructs on what he's supposed to do next.

"You're gonna need somebody to wake you up every few hours," the nurse starts," if there isn't anybody, we're going to have to keep you here."

"It's okay. I have somebody to look after me," Spencer murmurs, trying to pull out his phone out of his jacket.

He wants to call you. He knows your shift is ending right about now so he hopes that you'll come home with him, and take care of him as well.

What he doesn't know, is that you're already on your way to his room. Your best friend, and fellow nurse, let you know about Spencer being admitted into hospital right away. And since your very long shift is finally over, the only thing on your mind is Spence.

You come to the room right as all of the team members discuss who's going to take care of Spencer. Spencer, on the other hand, is ignoring them, his focus on his phone.

You don't understand why he's frowning so much until you realise it. You pull out your phone, and see the missed phone calls. You smile to yourself, and step into your room.

"Sorry, I missed your calls. I had the phone on silence mode," you say as you make your way to Spencer. His whole face lights up at the sight of you.

"Oh, hi," he happily greets you, but then he frowns," are you really here or is the concussion making me see things?"

You chuckle at his words," Spence, yeah I'm really here. I got here as soon as I could when I heard you got hurt. What happened, huh?"

"Didn't see the guy, got caught off guard, and thrown against the wall. Well at least I think I remember it right," Spencer frowns some more, but smiles instantly when you go dote on him.

You look at his plastered forehead, and run your fingers over it slightly. You want to kiss him right there, but there's a cough behind your back. You sheepishly turn around.

Spencer's whole team is staring at you, wide eyed and completely baffled. "Hello," you greet them shyly.

"Spencer, aren't you gonna introduce us?" Derek is the one to ask with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Spencer chuckles," this," he smiles big at you," is y/n, my girlfriend." He says it so proudly, too.

The team just stares at you two. The whole room stays in awkward silence, and you have to try very hard to not run out of there.

Thankfully, Penelope Garcia is as sweet as you've heard from Spencer, and she comes running towards you first. "Oh my gosh, hi. You're so so pretty, I can't believe Spencer has been hiding you from us," she hugs you," I'm Penelope."

It wakes up the others from the shock too, and they come to introduce themselves to you. They are just as nice as Penelope, you can see why Spencer loves them so much.

"How long have you guys been together?" Derek asks curiously. Spencer takes you hand in his, and starts to fiddle with your fingers. Completely ignoring Derek's questions, you think, he must have hit his head pretty hard.

"A few months now," you smile kindly at all of them," we've actually met here. I patched up Spencer's bruised cheek after one of your cases."

"Oh I remember it," Derek smirks," I wondered why Spencer left the hospital so happy. " Derek teases, but Spencer seems to not care like at all.

"Yeah it's true. She gave me her number, of course I was happy." Spencer states, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "Guys, I'd love for you to get to know each other more, but my head is killing so I just want to get home."

Spencer stands up from the bed, and grabs his belongings before he says his goodbyes, and pulls you out of there. You quickly say goodbye to them too with a promise of seeing them again soon.

"Spencer, that was so rude!" You scold him when you get outside of their earshot.

"Maybe, "Spencer grins at you," but I really do have a bad headache, and I just missed you so much. So can you blame me?"

You chuckle,"I missed you too, handsome. But you should be nicer to them."

Spencer just rolls his eyes which makes his head hurt even more," I am nice. Even if not, they can handle it." Spencer laughs when he sees your disapproving expression.

"C'mon, sweetheart, I'm just joking. Don't worry," Spencer in the moment of making your disapproving face go away swiftly leans in to give you a kiss.

"You better be," you banter.

Spencer laughs some more making the headache even worse.

Spencer groans a bit in pain which immediately draws your attention. "You okay? Is your head spinning?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm okay. Just got a bad headache," he assures you as you two finally reach your car, and get in.

"Don't worry, handsome. As soon as we get home, I'll make you feel better," you squeeze his hand before you start the car.

Spencer smiles, he can't say he's happy about being injured, but he is definitely happy to be loved on by you, "thank you, sweetheart. I can't wait."

[onismdaydream]

tw: afab reader, fingering, sex in a public place (they don't get caught), pet names, not proofread

note: i asked what i should write the other day and @papersirens said suguru and then this happened so yeah :3

"look at that guy over by the bar."

suguru hums, you can feel the faint rumble of his chest on your back, and turns his gaze towards the direction you're facing. "the one in the red?"

"no, no, three people to the left of him. he's wearing that flashy chain. you see him?"

"what about him?" your boyfriend hooks his chin over your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach pulling you ever so closer.

"he just struck out with this one girl, must've said something real bad because she threw her drink at him. see how his shirt is wet?"

"mhm."

"well, now he's talking to that blonde girl and i'm pretty sure that she's friends with the first one because they came in together."

it's common, at this point, that whenever there's some sort of outing with your friend group, you and suguru find yourselves tucked away in the quietest corner you can find. you'd much rather people watch than quite possibly make a fool out of yourself and suguru didn't mind the change of pace it provides. nursing drinks and pointing out the interesting things people did was plenty entertaining in your opinion.

"and," you continue, grateful that the music isn't as loud over here and you don't have to strain your vocal cords to be heard. "i think he's about to blow it here, too."

almost as if on cue, the girl tosses the remainder of her drink at his face and storms off, leaving the man alone and rejected once again. he grabs some napkins from the bar counter, wiping at his face and grumbling, before he walks off towards the bathroom. you would feel bad for him, but you have a feeling that he deserved it.

"looks like you were right." suguru chuckles, his arms loosening around you and allowing him to run his hands along your sides slowly. you can practically hear the smirk that pulls at his lips.

"you should know by now that i often am."

"then tell me, angel," his voice drops, his head turning so his mouth ghosts along the shell of your ear. "you think people can see us?"

suguru's hands drift lower, one squeezing at the fat of your hip and the other skirting dangerously close to the edge of your dress. a shiver runs down your spine, anticipation coursing through your veins as his fingers grazes against your skin.

"suguru," you whisper, your own hands reaching out to rest on his. you don't stop him, don't pull him away, don't want him to pull away.

"i don't think they can." he answers for you, his hand slips under your hem and your legs spread for him on instinct. humming softly in approval, he presses a tender kiss to your jaw. "only way they'll know is if you make noise. but you can be quiet, right? be good for me?"

his fingers tease you, sliding up and down your slit through your underwear. you're already wet, the dampness soaking through the thin fabric and you'd be a lot more embarrassed if it didn't earn you that throaty groan from suguru.

"you like this, hm?" rubbing at your clit to draw a quiet moan out of you, he nips at your neck, a sharp pinch that makes you arch into his touch. "better be quiet, baby. don't wanna draw attention to us."

"don't," your breath hitches, his fingers sliding underneath the band of your panties, touching you. "don't tease, suguru."

he must take pity on you, on your desperate state, because the next moment, he's properly fingering you and your head falls back against him, mouth open as you gasp at the sensation. if anyone were to look over, one glance at your fucked out expression and they would know, but your corner is secluded enough. suguru wouldn't risk you getting caught — he didn't want anyone else to see you like this. this sight, your face scrunching in pleasure and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, was his and his alone to savor.

long and dexterous fingers prod at that spongy spot inside you, slick wetness coating them so there's no resistance. it's hard to stay composed when the heel of his palm grinds against your swollen clit. he can tell you're getting close, the little whines and the way you're clenching around him pointing towards your inevitable release.

"cum on my fingers, angel."

and you do. you would do anything he says, follow him everywhere and anywhere, so long as he gives the word.

his cock throbs in his pants, you can feel the hardness of his length against your body, but he doesn't pay any attention to it. his focus is on you.

"so pretty." he whispers, almost to himself as he admires you, your beauty that he could never tire of. he waits a moment, allowing you to regain yourself before pulling his fingers out. your slick and cum web between his digits, making them shine even in the low light.

suguru places them in his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, tongue swirling around to get every bit of your essence. you watch in awe and arousal, your core thrumming with another wave of desire.

"we're going home." suguru smoothes out your dress before pulling you with him. "gonna make you come on my tongue next."

[anjian03]

+18 | MDNI | 정인

content: masturbating in front of each other, masturbating instructions, jeongin soft dom, pet names (baby, princess, babe), sp slight dumbification (if you squint), little bit of praise and compliments, jeongin’s hands!!

Jeongin would have you leg spread in his bed, with your back resting on his headboard while he makes you masturbate for him. He’d watch you palming himself above his pants and he would also give you instructions on what exactly he wants you to do.

“keep drawing little circles on that pretty clit, babe” his look is fixed on your pussy and that makes you’re body incredibly hot.

you obey his instructions but there’s one problem…

you’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t masturbated in a long time and you’ve lost “practice”, but even when you try different angles and paces, nothing feels like what jeongin’s touch would feel. nonetheless, you keep moving your fingers against your clit and unconsciously you started whining and rocking your hips in hopes to get more friction and to feel something more.

“whats the matter, princess?” of course he would notice with all your squirming and whiny moans, that where also making him extremely hard that his pants were starting to hurt.

“please jeongin- nghhhh- please touch me” you plead to him, still rubbing your clit “not the same- want your touch instead please”

“aww, my princess wants me to touch her instead? she can’t pleasure herself enough? she needs her man to feel good? is that it baby?” all you can do is nod and look at him with pleading eyes in hopes he gives in.

“okay, baby. it’s okay. just keep going a little more and i’ll touch you all you want all right?” you whine and nod again “that’s my pretty princess, now keep rubbing that little clit of yours but use your other hand and stretch that tight perfect pussy for me okay?” you obey, bringing your other hand to your mouth to lick two fingers and guide them to your entrance. you haven’t put them in yet put your pleading eyes while you were licking your fingers let out a groan in him, and he couldn’t resist you more so he took out his dick and started stroking himself at the same pace you were rubbing your clit.

seeing him masturbating in front of you made you incredibly wet, you can imagine this is how he felt watching you rubbing your clit a moment ago. and you couldn’t help but tell him how you felt, not without sticking your to fingers in your pussy just like he wanted “ngghh— jeongin baby… fuck you look so hot like this” he speeds up his pace at your comment and feels drops of pre cum leaking on his red tip “fuck, baby” he lets out a breathy moan ”and you’re the hottest little thing my eyes have met. you’re doing so good for me, my pretty princess” and the praise now makes you moan.

with the sight you had you started feeling more and more pleasure, not to mention the added stimulation of your fingers stretching your tight walls. but you still wanted HIS fingers, you wanted those hot beautiful hands cuz they could certainly get you to heaven in no time.

“jeongin please- i’ve been so good, i need your fingers please” and with that he groans and stands up to start taking of his clothes “i think my baby’s right, she’s been so obedient i think she needs to be rewarded” he said while he hoveared over you to lay you on the bed, and just when you were about to agree with him he runned his fingers up and down your folds making you gasp.

and let’s just say that his fingers did their magic cuz his touch felt 10 times better and yours.

💌: got carried away lol i’m sowry for the length, at the end i couldn’t stop it with jeongin’s hands 🫠 hahaha

english’s not my first language i apologize any mistakes!

╰┈➤ Master list

: ̗̀➛ Requests open!

[l0uterstella]

CHARACTER DESIGN NOTES FROM THE 4GAMER INTERVIEW

🍎 HALLRITT - "I told them that I absolutely wanted to include the ribbon in the upper right corner, no matter how cute it turned out to be. It also includes the image of Kitty's blue overalls on his suspenders. The yellow ribbon on his boots is an image of Kitty's twin, Mimmy."

🎼MEROLD - "He was drawn together with Blue Bouquet's Kurode. My Melody wears a hood, as she was originally designed as a "Little Red Riding Hood". The slit on the side was inspired by the design of the slit under My Melody's neck."

🍀PURUTH - "Since Pompompurin is a golden retriever, one of many dog designs, the belt-like thing coming out of his waist has the image of a leash. The shoes on the left and right sides are different, reflecting Purin's hobby of collecting and hiding one shoe on each side."

🌹 ROMARRICHE - "The silhouette of Marroncream's puff sleeves is expressed by wearing a cape. The floral pattern and polka dots are also inspired by her. We have not yet shown the back view, but there is also a lot of attention to detail hidden in the cape."

🐟 RIMICHA - "Kirimi-chan was the first runner-up in the "Eating Character General Election," so we gave him a distinctive mouth. Also, the asymmetry of his hair expresses their (Kirimichan) original silhouette, which is voluminous on the right side. The fishnet stockings are an image of a grill…!"

🌺 SANAH - "Usahana is a character who values the colorful colors she gets from the sky and flowers, so we took advantage of that. Also, around the year 2000, when Usahana debuted, sticker exchanges were popular, so we also incorporated that image into the design."

☁ CIELOMORT - "While also expressing Cielomort's royal and mysterious image, we incorporated motifs from Cinnamoroll, such as "clouds," "sky," and "white puppy". Cinnamoroll is also characterized by his swirling tail, so we made Cielomort's hair curly as well."

👿 KURODE - "As far as the spiritual nature is concerned, the theme of "becoming who you want to be" is the basis of Kuromi's work, and it makes use of the visual sense of "The World Kuromification Project". In contrast to the fluffy cuteness of Merold, I imagined a darker cuteness."

✉️ WILLMESH - "Wish Me Mell is a postman's helper, so he is given a mail bag and a brooch with a sealing wax motif. The polka dot pattern on Wish Me Mell's palm is reproduced with a polka dot bandage."

💫 KLARKSTELLA - "Kiki and Lala are "dreamy and cute" and "starry-eyed," so we developed them from there and based the costume on the image of pajamas. The twin-leaf-like hair on the top of her head is also inspired by Kiki and Lala. Another point is that they are tall."

🌟 LOUTERSTELLA - "His basic image is just the same as Klarkstella's, but we were careful to not simply make them different colors. They both have a dreamy atmosphere, but not too cute, and I think they have beautiful designs with a mythological mystery."

🌾 MYUNNA - "The design of the "spirit of flour" is based on the "fragile cuteness" of Cogimyun, who looks as if he might be blown away and turned into powder. Also, the back of his dress is a silhouette of Cogimyun's pet shrimp, and the decorations on his shoes are also based on her signature."

🐊 BADOBARM - "Bad Badztamaru's mischievous boyish atmosphere has been reproduced as a life-size male figure. Also, the "Xs and Os" shape, which is often used by Bad Badztmaru himself, is used in many of the costume decorations. By the way, Badztmaru's pet crocodile is called "Pochi," while the crocodile-shaped fairy with Badobarm is "Tama.""

🐶 CHACO - "We tried to express Pochacco's silhouette and his skateboarding element with the image of a very active child. We were particular about the balance of colors so that it would not be monotone, so we gave the hair color a unique look so that it would not be similar to other children."

🐣 ARUPEK - "From Ahiru No Pekkle's treasured bucket, we gave him a water pistol as an element for water. The large feet are also reproduced in his shoes. The hunting cap has a bird-like silhouette. The "1989" on the patch is Pekkle's debut year!"

🐧 TUXAM - "Tuxedo Sam is a gentlemanly penguin boy who has studied abroad in England, so we kept his noble image in mind. His hat is a combination of the sailor hat Sam wears and the hat of Sherlock Holmes... Who is famous in England. On the stick is an ice cream cone that Sam often spills."

🐙 HANGYON - "We designed the bewitching element based on Hangyodon, a half-fish man born in China. The round eyes are represented by sunglasses, and the pink color of Hangyodon's lips is incorporated into the lenses and makeup. The fairy on his shoulder, "Lily," was inspired by Sayuri, an octopus who is a good friend of Hangyodon."

🐸 PIKERO - "Since his lord's real name is "Keroppi Hasunoue (Keroppi above a lotus)", we added a black pattern to the umbrella to make it look like a lotus leaf. Also, it is hard to tell, but his eyes are pink, which represents the color of Keroppi's cheeks. His overall image is not Chinese, but Vietnamese."

[garzasheart]

valeria garza as a cat mom

summary: valeria being a crazy cat woman.

author notes: sorry for not posting in so long 👎 now it's time for soft valeria hours

━ before you two got together, valeria didn't have pets. she didn't see any need to and was too busy to actually care for any animals. the only "pets" valeria had were guard dogs that she hardly saw. letting her men take care of them in her place. having a pet was a waste of time, energy, and resources. if she wanted companionship? there were plenty of women around las almas that would give her the time of day. wanted to have some fun? that's why alcohol exists. she really saw no need until you came through, stole her heart, and convinced her to buy a cat. since valeria can never say no to you, she ends up agreeing.

━ the day you bring home a black kitten, valeria is a little unconvinced. the kitten would meow loudly everytime it needed to eat and would always try to claw at her whenever valeria held the little thing. she really wasn't liking the kitten; it's annoying and takes your attention off of her and it was so needy. you weren't going to stand for valeria's dislike though.

"name him," you said to her one day while you two were watching a movie. valeria looks at you with confusion drawn all over her face, "name who?"

"the kitten, val."

valeria lets out a small oh before sighing. she's getting ready to tell you that she doesn't care about the name, but you stop her.

"c'mon, name him. for me?" you pout at her. curse you for how cute you look every time you pout. valeria looks away for a moment, trying to think.

"okay, fine... juno," she says. looking at you to see your reaction. you stay silent for a little bit. tilting your head slightly to think about the name.

then you smile at her, "cute. juno."

━ ever since that day it was like a light was switched in valeria's brain. that little rascal of a kitten seemed .. not as annoying. adorable even. when juno would cry out for food, instead of it being you to go feed him, valeria would go instead. she would let him play with her fingers too. even though you told her that if she kept doing that, when he's fully grown he will still do it and hurt her. "i have been through worse, mi vida. don't worry," the hispanic woman says. giving you her usual smile that she knows sways you every single time before going back to playing with juno.

━ valeria is the one who decides to train him. she doesn't know the first thing about training an animal, but reassured you that she will figure it out.

"amor, wouldn't it be better if we just hire someone to train him?" you say, brushing through valeria's hair. she lets out a soft hum at first. just enjoying the feeling of you gently tugging on her strands, but she replies a few minutes after. "no, it's fine. i will do it," she says.

you laugh softly. quick to remind your girlfriend that she doesn't know a thing about animals. more or less on how to train one. valeria with her stubborn and prideful nature is quick to defend herself, saying, "i can always learn. weren't you the one who said that it's never too late to try something when i put my mind to it?"

"i did say that, but amor, this is something that can be done wrong you know. you have to do it right so juno doesn't end up a menace," you explain. valeria scoffs at the last part; juno was already turning out to be quite a menace. he must gets it from valeria you think.

"just trust me, bebe. i got it," she says, ending the conversation there.

━ valeria in fact did not have it, at first. she used treats to reward juno when he did something she liked, but would give him the treat at the wrong time so it wasn't that effective. she had to go out and actually buy books, read them, and then apply the methods from the books. thankfully they worked. the downside is that she learned everything from a dog training book, so now juno knows how to sit, stay, play dead, sit & wait for his food, and immediately runs when called. at least it worked.

━ soon enough juno starts to grow. by the end of the first year, he's at his full size but doesn't act like it. always trying to sit on valeria or yours face and playing with valeria's fingers (and you always said i told you so after bandaging up her scratched up fingers). still valeria is absolutely inlove with him with now.

━ this woman comes home and cuddles him first before cuddling you (she still gets all annoyed if you don't come cuddle with them after like five minutes though). she kisses him to sleep and good morning. takes him out on little walks sometimes and always brings you along. calling them "mamas and juno dates."

━ one thing valeria refuses to do though is talk in a baby voice to him. that's all you. instead valeria talks to juno like he's a grown man. you caught her way too many times sitting on the couch, sipping on some wine, while complaining and cursing to juno about how she works with idiots. juno always sits there and looks at her like he's listening.

━ sends you so many pictures of juno when you are away. of him sleeping, eating, cuddling with her, running around, even when he's about to walk over to the litter box. those last type of photos are always accompanied with a "I think he ate too much, amor" text

━ if you facetime her while you're away, valeria will hold juno to the camera and say, "he wants kisses. give juno his kisses, mi amor."

━ valeria considers juno her and yours child. it doesn't matter that he's a furry animal, he basically came out of you.

━ she always jokes around that juno has your eyes and her personality.

━ this woman just loves her some juno.

[user211201]

Totally Normal

---

Originally posted on 2023-12-08

Author: dumb-and-jocked.

---

“Welcome back to Totally Normal, the online show where we narrow down the one thing that makes us all meet that standard!”

The host then hit a button on his laptop, releasing an audio for an uproarious round of applause. With his entire audience streaming in live, he had to make due with tracks. He didn’t mind it though; he could always predict what his viewers were thinking. It was like they shared the same mind.

“My name’s DJ, and before you ask, yes I have a side gig in music.” A laugh track obnoxiously inserted itself. “I don’t dabble in the typical jazz; I remix these men back to the tunes they oughta be singing.”

Another fake round of applause. The host smirked before continuing forward with the rules.

“The point of the game is simple: Figure out that one thing that makes someone totally normal. Through a series of questions, I’m going to chisel away at our contestants until we get to the base. For every wrong answer, a vibration will be sent out to their device until they head back on the right track. We want to find out that one thing that solidifies them as an average joe, but we don't exactly know what that thing is."

The host then took a scripted pause. "Well, *I *know what that thing is.”

Another laugh track entered before the host silenced his imaginary audience. “So, let’s get down to it. We have our men here, but ARE THEY NORMAL?”

The last three words were all enunciated with the typical gameshow pazazz. The host even had an accompanying audio that made it seem like there was an audience chanting it with him.

On cue, the livestream booted up a panel of the three contestants. The first was a shy young man, who by his age looked to be in college but by his height possibly younger. The second was the typical corporate homosexual, the breed who was already happily married and wore tight, designer clothing. And last but not least, the third looked just a little older than the first with an office that displayed the inner workings of a minor start-up.

“Help me welcome our first contestant, coming from the cool waves of Cali, here comes Cody!”

Corey opened his mouth to kindly correct the host, but was immediately silenced by the massive track of applause. A small and nervous 20-year-old, Corey was an academically-fine student at a state school. He worked as an IT intern, helping others work through their issues in a manner where he didn’t have to fully engage. Yet he knew he would probably have to work through this introvert problem if he ever truly wanted to make a loyal boyfriend from the crop of surfers across the street.

“Up next is our cowboy-tootin’, bullet-firin’ family man, Norman!”

Nolan made a face of disgust, but he too didn’t stand a chance against the fake cheers. He’d settled down with his husband just about 10 years ago in the suburbs. Working for a Fortune 500 company, he had everything a man of his caliber could want. Great company, great style, great pets instead of real children. Nolan loved his little metropolitan life.

“And finally, the privileged heir to the corporate throne, it’s Asher!”

Aaron rolled his eyes as the artificial eruption burst through his speakers. He assumed that this narcissistic jock host had gotten all of the contestants names wrong. Aaron had built his own business up from the ground, an independent hard-worker with no one tying him down. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want a boyfriend, he just needed to focus on himself. That’s why he was keeping it casual, hooking up with boys a little younger and less responsible. He absentmindedly pawed at his crotch a little as the douchebag DJ started the game.

“Now,” the host cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Let’s start off with some easy questions, just to make sure those devices are working after all. Cody, you’re looking comfortable out on that beach!”

Corey looked around the library he was sitting in confusedly, neither comfortable nor on a beach.

“I think you’re mistaking me for the surfers across the street,” Corey tried to joke, but his feeble demeanor spoiled the comeback.

“Men…you all ought to be where all the other guys of your kind are at.”

All three of them put on bewildered faces.

“Cody, what’s holding you back from embracing that Cali life?” the host asked.

“I…I mean there’s the obvious fact that they aren’t keen on ga-”

BZZT

“Ah!” Corey ripped his hand away, the "vibration" more of a literal sting.

“Cody, what’s holding you back?” the host asked again.

“Dude,” Corey uncharacteristically responded. “I don’t know if they will accept me, man.”

“Bro, what’s there NOT to accept?” the host chuckled. “You fit right in!”

Corey looked over his short frame, his pale skin, his shrimpy figure. He appeared better fit for the library than the bea-

BZZT

“You’re right DJ! I'm a gnarly guy like them brahs! They’ll totally accept me!”

Corey looked over his tall frame, his tanned skin, his toned figure. He appeared better fit for the beach than the library–that’s why he was on the beach after all!

“Alright alright,” the host nodded with approval. “Now Norman, let’s talk about your life in the countryside.”

‪‘Country side’?” Nolan interjected. “Do you consider Houston-”

BZZT

Nolan flung his hand back, “HOWARDWICK the countryside? You bet! Population 402, the two being me and my husband.”

“And what massive land you got behind you, I’m assuming you and your male fling built that together.”

“My what?” Nolan peered behind him, noticing his garden he’d built with his hus-

BZZT

-the ranch he’d built with his hustle. Well, not technically–this land had been managed through the traditional good ole ways of his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. He’d just been fixing it up here and there.

Nolan stretched his thickening fingers, hoping to desensitize them from the pain. “W…What in tarnation is goin' on ‘ere?”

The host continued on, mocking the Southern accent he’d implanted onto the second contestant. “A place fittin' for a cowpoke like y’all’s self! Ain’t no city folk allowed; you don’t want nothin’ queer intrudin' your property, right?”

Queer?!” Nolan spat back. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’-“

BZZT

“Darn tootin’ straight! Ain’t nothin’ strange gonna be happenin’ on this ‘ere land.”

With the second contestant’s location rightfully reoriented, the host moved onto the third.

“And onto our Ivy League, let’s discuss ascension…I mean, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’.”

Aaron shot the host a dirty look through the screen. “You don’t think I worked hard to earn this position?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do it all yourself.”

Aaron held his breath. He was a decently attractive man with his slim figure and responsible will, and even his anger made him appear wiser than his years. But Aaron's best feature was his independence, and he wasn’t going to let anyone taint his name over that.

“What, do you think my current boyfri-”

BZZT

“-my dating his-”

BZZT

“-my friends with benefits were involved?”

Aaron’s fingers tingled with energy. His body tingled with fury.

“Well,” the host snickered. “If by benefits, you mean…”

“What’s all this!” Aaron flipped. “This is simply…p…preposterous!”

“What are you talking about?” the host egged on. “It's simply normal for a man with your caliber to have such an ‘inheritance’.”

The other two contestants watched on with intrigue.

“I…I may have a b…benefactor,” Aaron suddenly revealed, as if something had just been placed upon his chest. But he was still independent, right? “But that has nothing to do with it!”

“Benefactor? Do you mean your DADDY?”

The fake audience suddenly burst into a chorus of shocked “Ooooohhhh”s. Aaron’s usual calm nature was flatlining, being replaced by a more quickly-agitated behavior.

“We may be really closely acquainted!” Aaron backpedaled. “But it’s nothing of that kind of sort!”

The other two contestants smirked as the growingly-pompous bastard was taken down a peg.

“Sounds pretty queer to me, man,” Corey interjected confidently, scratching at his defining abs.

“Yeah, Ah reckon that fellas a little less normal than us folks,” Nolan added, adjusting the large hat that had secured itself upon his head.

“SHUT UP SWINE!” Aaron spat, his face gaining back a little of his baby fat as he absorbed more child-like aggression. “I'm perfectly normal!”

The two men laughed alongside an obnoxious laughter track.

“He’s right folks, we men are on the right side of history.” The host knew he needed to move on, the show only had so much time of course, but he was having fun. “Surely that father-figure is just some kind of…relative?”

“Just a relative, brah?” Corey asked as his trim cut bloomed out into luscious blond waves.

“Seems closer than that, partner.” Nolan quipped as a graying stubble crawled upon his widening jaw.

“A….A relative?” Aaron stammered, a higher youthful pitch lightening his tenor as this benefactor became clearer in his head. “He’s…he’s someone who I f-“

BZZT

“Father! He’s my father: Asher Osvald the Third!” Aaron screamed, his blond locks gelling up into a refined style that didn’t match his own personality. “And you all better remember it when you see our company in the headlines!”

Both Corey and Nolan took their respectful back-offs, but the host could only smirk with pride. After a moment of self-congratulation, he noticed some slight hesitation from the first candidate.

“Dude…” Corey started. “Can’t you just see he’s messin’ with us, man? Don’t you guys feel kinda strange-“

“Aren’t you supposed to chill, dude?” The host immediately cut him off.

Corey’s mouth went flat, his chin taking the opportunity to curve out a little further. “How can I chill with-“

BZZT

“Without the support from my brosettes across the screen, duuuuude!”

The host watched on with glee as the female portion of the livestream burst into a flurry. Lots of hearts and kisses and even some eggplant emojis were flooding the chat. And the comments were getting suggestive too. One chick wanted to know why he was wearing a dorky button-up, and she was soon exposed to his lean bod and treasure trail. Another suggested he should flex for the camera, and Corey was happy to oblige, each of his muscles pumping larger as he did so.

“Now, Cody,” the host coyly asked. “I’m sure the fans would like to know what you do for work.”

“I uh…I work with coding.”

“You are studying IT?” the host replied, incredulous. “Sounds complicated man.”

Corey beamed at the compliment, an excited fever entering his voice. “Yeah, but I sort of have a gift for-“

BZZT

“IT...like as in ‘it’ man...not ‘eye-tee’ or whatever.”

“But it has something to do with a code, right?”

“Well…yeah man…” Corey’s lifeless vocal fry responded. “But it's not that nerdy crap…something more…uhhh…”

The host graciously provided the answer, “Manly?”

“Yeah man….’it’ is the uh…bro-code brah.” Corey fiddled with the cross necklace that had materialized around his neck, trying to structure his thoughts. Corey felt like his head was spinning in a light vertigo, but not out of stress. Rather, a pleasurable confusion. Cali dudes don’t think that much right? They just go with the flow, so why shouldn’t he man? Wasn’t that what was normal?

While Corey processed his internal dilemma, the host reconnected with the second contestant, noticing he too was becoming a little self-aware.

“Hey Norman, you’re really rocking that fit.”

Nolan was honestly surprised at the comment. He knew he looked good in his tight, patterned three-piece, but he didn’t think the ultra-straight host would notice that too.

“Those shoes must be great for the ranch.”

Nolan laughed. “These ole’ things? They’re Prada from last season-“

BZZT

“Uhh…Ah mean these boots are from that one brand-”

BZZT

“Ah’ve had these kickers for years, fella!”

The host observed quietly as the rest of the second contestant’s clothes altered. The suit jacket and vest disappeared completely. The pants grew out into a straight pair of jeans that had been worn continuously for many seasons. The shirt rolled it sleeves and loosened some buttons, darkening to a dusty black that was meant for hauling hay rather than implying gay. But as the outfit masculinized, there was one item that stubbornly fought back, unlike the man who wore it.

“And that belt, how long have you had that?”

Nolan evaluated the expensive snake leather. “Oh yeah, this ‘ere was a gift-“

BZZT

“What in TARNATION was that for?!” Nolan yelled, the vibration noticeably more painful than the previous blasts. The material of his belt quickly grew cheaper, a massive longhorn buckle blooming forth above his blooming pouch.

“S…Sorry y’all,” Nolan collected himself. “Ah don’t know what’s gotten ovah me, or why Ah’m speakin’ so-“

“Enough apologies,” the host gagged. “You are a man, are you not?”

“Yessiree, but that doesn’t mean we men ain’t got to be sens-”

BZZT

“Ah reckon yer right there, partner!” Nolan puffed out his chest, carrying his emerging muscle gut with him. “We men oughta be tough! The MAN of the household.”

The host snickered, his eyes meandering around the second contestant’s body as additional muscle and bulk was piled onto his frame. “And men like you ought to have a body like that, don’t they?”

The cowboy huffed, his torso heavy with Southern pride. Nolan had worked his muscular frame up over all these long years, from sunrise to sundown. At 6’4, his big hearty body was always devouring meat to stretch out everything from his big strong biceps to his huge Size 15 clompers!

With the first and second contestants almost there, it was time for the host to catch his third man up to speed. He had already advanced mighty far, his skin having cleared up a bit and a few arrogant gold trophies having appeared in the office background, but the host had some additional notches yet to secure before the final round.

“Now Asher, let’s get real here.” The host put on his classic douchebag smile for the audience. “Any ladies tickling that fancy lately?”

“What?” Aaron scoffed. “Are you dense? I'm into g-”

BZZT

“Girls…no…wait what?” Aaron felt strange. Why did the host ask if he liked…girls? And why was the thought of girls suddenly something he…liked?

“Listen ere’, partner,” Nolan suddenly interjected. “Yer talkin’ 'bout women like they’re nothin’!”

The host, displeased, fought back. “Aren’t you married to one, partner?”

Nolan couldn’t believe the disrespect. “Me? Married to a woman? Yeah right-”

BZZT

“-Ah am! Ah’ve been married to my lovely wife for darn straight twenty years! Ain’t nothing QUEER happenin' on this ‘ere normal ranch. I got youngins to raise after all!”

As Nolan became bombarded by memories of his new flock of children, the satisfied host switched back to his third contestant.

“Look, I think we should respect women.” Aaron tried his best to sound mature, now finding it extremely difficult to maintain. “In fact, I think we should respect all others appropriately-“

BZZT

“And by appropriately, I am referring to overlooking these swines of colleagues who cannot afford a top notch education adjacent to my own.”

The host queued up a laugh track for his next one-liner. “They weren’t kidding when they said someone with your prestige had everything handed down to you, including bad manners.”

Aaron felt his anger rising once again, it easily filling his shortening body as he squared out to an average 5’9.

“Well excuseeee me! I am my own person with-“

BZZT

“My father is a reputable man who would wish to-”

BZZT

“DADDY!”

Aaron stomped his foot, bewildered at this idiocracy. Why was he continuously interrupted? Why was he not given the required recognition? He was captain of the country club’s golf team, rowing team, youth league, and the youngest member on the executive board for Christ’s sake! He studied at an Ivy League! He was everything!

As Aaron tried to understand why none of these other men appreciated the absolute honors of his merit–which he refused to ever admit weren’t even his own–a small alarm went off from the host’s computer.

“Like what was that, mannnn?” Corey’s face furrowed into an all-too-natural look of dumbfoundment.

“Yeah,” Nolan reared. “What's y'all gonna do next?”

“I demand to know it this instant!” The host was surprised at the third contestant jumping in, but he assumed it was just his way of trying to maintain his (nonexisting) position on top. “Or else I’ll tell my father about this-!”

An insane uproar of artificial laughter echoed throughout their ears, startling and silencing them.

“Alright folks, you know what that sound means!” the host grinned. “It’s almost time to wrap up our show, and because our contestants still haven’t figured out what makes them 'Totally Normal', we’re going to have to speed things up!”

“But can’t there only be one winner?” Aaron whined.

“Technically, no,” the host responded honestly. “All of you can be winners if you find out what makes you totally normal.”

For the first time since the game had started, all three of the contestants fell silent.

“I mean, let’s look at our surfer stud Cody,” the host started. “You are almost there, but you gotta loosen that one thing that’s still pent-up, man.”

“Brah…” Corey complained. “What else is there?”

As if by some subconscious command from the host, Corey began dumbly palming himself, a light drool dripping from the edge of his lips. The constant cycle of tits and feminine bits in his mind bombarding all over thoughts.

“A totally gnarly surfer focuses on working out, banging chicks, and chillin’ dude.”

Corey guffawed with a stupid relaxed expression, casually groping as the host moved on.

“And Norman, you’ve worked hard for your position in life, haven’t you?”

The Texan father nodded in cold agreement.

“So what would pride a totally traditional cowboy more than his ranch, his woman, and his legacy?”

Nolan groaned as he instantly unbuckled the massive lock hiding his mighty steed. Huffing loudly, the Southern Baptist’s lil’ pony was wrangled into a full-fledged stallion, the kind that was built to produce offspring. And the kind that got worked up over anything that could threaten the generational uniformity his family, religion, and nation he swore to protect.

“And you, Asher,” the host swiped over to the final contestant. “What’s stopping you from becoming the total Harvard bastard?”

Asher’s face went red and his cock went hard.

“I’m talking complete corruption, pure privilege, Daddy’s little-”

The host was suddenly cut off by a loud holler, the exclaim like the crashing waves of the ocean. Immediately, the comment section blew up as the host, players, and audience watched the surfer jock release a blast of his sea salt spray.

But before the host could congratulate the first winner, the southern father turned around the corner. With one hand whipping his meat and the other held tightly onto his hat, it was only mere moments until the inevitable:

“YEEHAW!”

Once again, the audience burst into merriment over the propagating blast. It was then that Aaron’s anger truly took the best of him. He couldn’t be beaten by two no-names! He was the top of his class, an heir to a Fortune 500 company, and a totally normal man for Christ’s sake! Gripping his pecker and shining it furiously, Aaron accepted his heterosexual rage and vowed that he would win and please his…please his…!

“F…FAAAAATHERR!”

A loud, pretentious yell echoed out of the Harvard student, an endless splurge of funds dumping out of his mighty account. It was just one of the many things his heritage’s estate had granted him.

The host didn’t try to hide his devious sneer as the viewers erupted once more. He’d loved his job because everyone won every time. And now, seeing all the new stereotypical straights he’d created, the host couldn’t help but feel his own massive sausage chub. But he laughed the feeling off, knowing beating off over these other men wouldn’t have been “totally normal.”

“And it looks like with just a minute left on the clock, all three of our contestants will be going home as winners today!” The host then added his artificial rounds of applause. “So, did you three ever figure out what makes you ‘Totally Normal’?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brah?” Cody replied, the typical airhead more sure of himself now than when he had dropped out of high school. “It’s that we’re straight, mannnn…”

“He’s right, partner!” Norman added, his fatherly conviction always strong and steady. “Ain’t none of us are them faggots. If Ah do say so myself, we are all what the mighty Lord named men.”

“Well, if that is what common plebians such as yourself are called, then you shall address me as ‘I-V’,” Asher Osvald IV’s voice was doused in entitlement and a lack of understanding for anyone but himself. A pair of offscreen hands adjusted his tie just to prove his privilege. “After all, I do attend Harvard. I guess you could say I was destined for greatness since birth.”

“Yes, Asher, everyone here knows you are a prick.” The host immediately followed up his quip with a laugh track. “But that’s all we have for today’s show. Signing off, this is Host DJ!”

“Hang ten and surfs up, dudes!”

“The biggest rodeo’s the family and kids y’all!”

“I’m probably way richer than you vagrants, so don’t bother.”

“And don’t forget to ask yourself,” the host winked before adding in the final audio. “ARE YOU NORMAL?”