#most of it is under the cut for space reasons

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.

Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.

Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.

He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.

He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.

As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.

He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.

Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?

Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.

Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.

He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.

He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.

Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.

Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.

Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.

The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.

Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.

She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.

Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.

She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.

There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.

She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.

She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.

Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.

Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.

Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.

Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.

Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.

She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.

That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.

Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.

The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.

They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.

They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.

Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.

When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.

[luvwich]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @dustdeepsea — tysm, this was great fun! read their answers here and mine, if you like, beneath the cut ✨

When did you start writing?

early 2023 was my first foray into writing actual fiction. prior to that i'd done an embarrassing amount of roleplaying many years ago, which i shall speak on no further, but it did form the basis for a lot of my writing now!

once upon a time, i seriously entertained the idea of an MFA in screenwriting, but went on to pursue something even stupider for grad school 👍

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

honestly everything i enjoy reading gets smuggled into my writing in some form or another!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

there are like 26 different writers where i wish to take bits and pieces of their style, send it all into a meat grinder, and press the gunk into sausage casings to be dipped in batter and deep fried. ideally i want my writing to hit like wagyu beef that's been corrupted into a county fair corn dog. but no i'm not sure i've ever been compared to another writer! that would fuck my shit up truly (in a good way)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

typically curled up on my couch, because the ergonomic status of my home office setup is terrible — potentially lethal. sometimes i stay late at my not-home office, hidden away in a dark conference room, but that's usually only if i'm on a self-imposed deadline (i.e. i've started posting a WIP)

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

the spark that gets me to write is usually some kind of Dynamic that i want to explore so i do a lot of noodling upon situations and then figuring out how to get there. and by situations i mean smut

also, writing bits of dialogue, even if i don't know the context yet. it gets a character's voice and mannerisms in my head, and gives me a little grain to start building on

sadly, going on a hike and/or reading a really good book are both very effective and by far the most time consuming

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

longing, isolation, identity, the difference between the person you'd like to be and the person you are, strained/dysfunctional family relationships, wrong person right time, hope, blowjobs, self-deception, california, fucking your way through it, guilt, social class, mommy issues, mono no aware, oral fingering, etc; they don't surprise me anymore but the first time i finished a long fic and took a step back i was like "ohh haha Damn"

What is your reason for writing?

i am horny, sad n silly

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all forms of feedback are so touching! i think much of what i write is pretty niche, so simply knowing someone has read my stuff gets me pumped. a big essay of a comment is like receiving a love letter, and comments that are just an emoji are like someone's tucked a little note in my lunchbox, and both are incredibly nourishing to me. as far as motivation, though, anything that implies someone is looking forward to reading more is the surest way to light a fire under my people-pleasing ass

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

affable wretch, trickster, wine aunt

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i'm not sure any one thing stands out: i believe i'm pretty good in a few areas (dialogue, sensory detail, characterization) and notably lacking in others (action, "plot," pacing, not getting high on my own supply)… okay i'll stop being an asshole though and say my strength is in "delivering on a mood," if that is a thing

How do you feel about your own writing?

generally good. for one, i'm proud of myself for ever finishing and posting anything, because following through on shit isn't something i'm renown for. i tend to hate everything i write after i've gotten some distance from it, but i think that's normal? right? i'm new at it and it's all for fun so i try to be gracious with myself, with mixed success, because beneath my goofy exterior i do take everything too seriously

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mostly for myself; i do abstractly ask "would someone who isn't me enjoy this?" and never quite know the answer. like most humans i crave external validation and connection, but like a cactus i can survive on just a lil rainfall 🌵

tagging w/no pressure (but with my best barbara walters impression) @corpocyborg @ghostoffuturespast @merge-conflict @streetkid-named-desire @writing-for-soup

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞

Pairing Frank Castle x Reader [friends → lovers] 

Summary A fresh start with no more loose ends—that’s what you promised yourselves. But when a quick outing stretches longer than expected, dread creeps in and reveals how deeply you care for Frank when he’s finally back by your side [3.7k] 

A/N First time writing for Frank. Deeply appreciate Jon Bernthal’s embodiment of the character ♡

The rain hasn’t stopped by the time the van eases into the parking lot, where rainwater on the ground reflects the cherry-red motel sign shining against the night. It makes no difference to you—lips parted and head tilted against the passenger side window—until Frank gears into park and taps your thigh with two fingers. 

Your eyes flutter open to tiny droplets pattering on the outside of the cool glass. That’s when you notice how still the world has grown. No more potholes, smooth turns, or random swells of acceleration to pass other cars who thought they had all the time in the world. 

After cutting the engine, he runs a heavy hand down his face and tips his head back, the motion disheveling the back of his dark hair against the headrest. It’s gotten longer. So has the coarser hair of his beard. He never asked for your opinion, nor had you mustered the courage to give it, but the look suited him, as if it was innately right. As he briefly closes his eyes, he misses the way you turn to study his profile, noting how the bridge of his nose catches the glow of the lights outside.

A satisfied hum escapes you as you stretch out your legs, drawing his attention back your way. He blinks observantly, eyebrows set in that eternal furrow that makes him hard to read. But you know he’s alright—content. There’s no other reason not to be. A couple hundred hundred miles ago, he’d tied off one final loose end, and now the world went silent for the first time in a while. It was over. No more living ghosts breathing down your necks. You and Pete Castiglione were free to start a new life, be whoever you wanted to be. That’s what you told yourselves. 

Clearing his throat, Frank shifts in his seat and reaches into the cup holder, tossing the room key into your lap. “Room 103. There’s two queens,” he tells you. “I’ll grab the bags.” The finality in his tone suggests he won’t entertain any alterations to the plan.   

You reach down to grab your crossbody. “Can I get this one, or is it too much?” You’re trying to be funny. He waves you off, mumbling under his breath, but there’s an undeniable flutter in his gut when you smile at him before hopping out of the van. 

He purses his lips when you break into an amusing little jog, eager to escape the rain and key into the room. A muted yellow fills the space as you flip on the lights. No sooner does he watch you peek through the curtains like a groundhog popping up from its burrow. It’s hard to make him out, but you swear you can see him chuckling from behind the windshield. 

It’s impressive how he manages to carry both your belongings in one trip. He hums in appreciation as you hold the door open for him. Rather than dumping everything in the main walkway, he trudges the extra few steps to where more space opens up and a small bench rests beneath the full length mirror hanging on the wall. 

The air is thick, as it always seems to be at motels, but the citrus undertones suggest recent cleaning. You stake your claim on the bed closest to the bathroom, ready to settle in. The wrapper of a meal bar crinkles as you dig it out from your purse. 

Frank’s own mattress squeaks as he plops down onto the foot of the bed and lays back, tucking his hands behind his head. The movement makes the hem of his hoodie rise up just enough to reveal the light trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button. It’s not the most comfortable bed in the world, but you’d be back on the road in the morning headed for central Virginia. 

A modest house in the Blue Ridge Mountains awaited, courtesy of one of his buddies who lived further north in Quantico. Of all the other options, it seemed like a promising place to find your footing away from the endless bustle of New York City. 

“Frank?” He looks over at you. “Thanks.” For everything, you want to add. 

“No worries,” he says. A few moments pass of the rain slowing down outside. It’s a lulling sound that masks the quiet gurgle of your stomach. 

Eyes closed, Frank hears you begin to peel open the bar you’re holding. It’s one of the protein-packed ones that are supposed to taste like chocolate, but always end up too chalky. It’d been a while since the late lunch the two of you had. 

“I’ll go get you something hot.” He sits up. “Passed a few places coming in.” 

You can see how drained he is from driving. It’s in his voice, the slump of his shoulders. “This’ll tie me over for the night,” you insist.

He looks at you with partial belief. Frank was the type who could get caught up in the task at hand and go without eating, if it wasn’t for your reminders. Earlier, he’d brushed over his hunger, only to sit down across from you in that cramped diner booth and inhale his hamburger and fries as you watched, amusement sparkling in your eyes. That look often spurred him into a spiel about how he could get by on a handful of nuts every few hours if he really wanted. 

But there was no such talk this time around. The food was good and hearty, and he enjoyed sitting down and sharing a meal without having to look over his shoulder. There was also something special about the way the sunlight streaming through the windows caught your eyes. 

“Really, Frank. It’s been a long day,” you say as he stands and makes his way to the door. There was no stopping him when he made up his mind. “I can come with you.” That earns you a disapproving look, and you sigh your defeat. “Drive safe, okay?” 

“Yep.” 

The rain subsides shortly after he slips out the door. To avoid the risk of falling asleep, you decide to take a shower, considering yourself lucky that the warm water doesn’t run out after the first five minutes.

By the time you dry off, moisturize, and change into old pajamas, Frank hasn’t returned. When you peek out the window at the sound of an engine, it ends up being construction workers. Despite how much you try to will it away, a familiar sense of dread settles in your gut. It only roots deeper upon realizing that he’d left his BlackBerry behind on the bed. 

Time continues passing by. 

•••

Red and blue police lights appear blazing in the distance in a showy glow. Frank watches from the inside of a family-owned pizzeria, where beautiful candid pictures adorn the walls. The air is rich with the scent of parmesan and garlic, but his face is fixed in a scowl. There’s bruising beginning to develop on the apple of one cheek, and a thin bleeding slash on the other. A few chairs are overturned while tables are askew. 

Under different circumstances, maybe in a different life, he would’ve been able to appreciate the homey charm of the place without trouble finding a way to fall at his feet. The universe had deemed him as the only alter fit to handle it. 

The woman behind the counter, stout with a long ponytail, nearly collapses in relief as the wailing sirens draw nearer, but Frank’s jaw ticks in irritation at the whole ordeal. Other customers who were once inside have either left or are now standing watch from the parking lot. 

Frank turns to look down at the two young men sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. The masks have been ripped down from their faces, and it’s clear they’ve been roughed up. Despite feeling Frank’s gaze, they refuse to meet it. 

Off to side stands another employee who’s around the same age as the men on the ground. He’s holding a wad of napkins to his bloody nose and can’t keep his eyes from flitting to Frank with reverence and gratitude.  

“Hey,” Frank barks to the seated men. “When they bust up in here, you don’t run, you hear me? Cause I’m gonna be out there and you won’t even make it to the next lot over,” he says. “If you wanna come in here and be tough guys while your buddy’s trying to make a living and do better for himself, then you own it.” 

Their nostrils flare in frustration, but they don’t dare open their mouths. He can see the misplaced anger of his own youth coursing through them. 

“Whatever’s going on between you…you talk it out, yeah?” He looks between all of them. “One bad decision, and your folks are gonna be crying and snotting in a courtroom while some guy with a mallet calls the shots.” 

As the police cars turn into the parking lot, Frank walks over to a table and picks up the carry out bag of food he’d ordered. 

“How do I get outta here?” 

Both the long-haired woman and the young employee point to the back hallway where the bathrooms are, watching him disappear as if he were never there at all. 

Frank makes it to his van as the police enter the pizzeria. In the rearview mirror, he can see the two men standing from the ground with their heads hanging low. Sighing, he pats down his pockets for his phone with the intent to call you. Nothing. All he can do is curse under his breath and start up the engine. 

The No Vacancy sign is switched on when he makes it back. He sees you staring out the window, but you slink back into the room as if the sight of his return was all you needed. A mix of guilt and frustration stir in his chest when you don’t let him in. He has to dig out the key and do it himself with his free hand, the carry out bag crinkling with his efforts. When he slips in and shuts the door behind himself, you’re standing a few yards away. There’s a palpable intensity as you study the afflictions on his face. 

Your body wants to fuss over him and push him away all at once—for leaving his phone, for scaring you, for coming back looking like he’d seeked out yet another fight. Most of all, you feel foolish for believing that there was ever a chance at normalcy. There was no rewriting the curse that all the trouble in the world fell at Frank Castle’s feet so he could set things right. 

Unlike eight months ago, when you thought he was an enemy, you can’t imagine losing him. You wouldn’t survive it. That magnitude of that fear cloaks itself in anger and puts a target on him when it’s the last thing he deserves. 

“What the hell, Frank? You can’t be serious right now.” 

Your piercing gaze is muddled with a myriad of emotions, and he can see them all. He stops the knee-jerk reaction that almost makes him raise his voice and go on about how he didn’t ask for anything that transpired within the past hour. How happenstance wasn’t within his control. How the whole idea of the two people like you finding a sense of normality was probably closer to a fairytale. 

He doesn’t get into it because he loves you. Even though neither of you have ever said it aloud. It was an unspoken truth, written between the lines of the fact that you worked each other’s nerves, but knew how to sooth them even more. Chasing after a fairytale would be worth it with you. 

“Let’s just eat, yeah? Can we do that?” 

He brushes past you to put the food on the small table. You track his movements, watching as he takes out a few small boxes. There’s wings, garlic knots, mozzarella sticks—a variety so you can take your pick and get your fill. It was never really too late for pizza, but he knew you would complain about the layers of cheese grease so close to bedtime. You’re not even sure you have an appetite anymore, but he motions for you to come sit and you can’t say no. Your eyes follow him as he goes to wash his hands, wishing you had it in you to scream. 

There’s only two chairs and your knees knock beneath the table when he sits down. As you nibble on a garlic knot, you stare at the dried blood on his cheek and the forming bruise. 

“Please tell me what happened.” Your tone is lighter than before.

Frank briefly squints then wrinkles his nose, gears turning in his head. Similar to when he walks into a new room, his gaze tracks around different points of your face, as if he’s trying to piece together what he wants to say as he assesses where you are. His thoughts are always written in his expressions even if they aren’t entirely clear. 

 “It was nothing,” he says. 

“Nothing, Frank?” 

Nine times out of ten, him coming back to base camp bearing signs of a fight meant that he’d either taken care of everything or it was time to bounce—no in between. There’s no urgency that suggests the latter, so he must be telling the truth. The events of the night have pissed him off more than anything, like a side quest he couldn’t avoid. As much as he dreaded playing it over in his head for the sake of relaying it back to you, he can see that you need it. 

“Alright, look.” Frank waits for your attentive nod to continue. 

“It was a couple of kids. Came in all loud, making a scene,” he starts. “Long story short, they gang up on their buddy who works there.” Your eyes drift to his lips as he talks, watching the way he wets them every so often. “Everybody starts freaking out, some suit who looks like Mayor LaGaurdia calls the cops.” 

He shakes his head like it was all a big mess. “And I’m not about to sit there and watch this kid get the snot beat outta him, so I get up and do somethin’ about it.” The righteous indignation in his tone that stirs an admiration within you. He notices the shift in the way you’re looking at him. 

“What?” 

You shake your head and bite your lower lip. “So you broke them apart?”

He nods. “One of ‘em got a lick in, pulled out a pocket knife,” he says. “Then I shook both their asses up and made ‘em sit ‘til the cops came.” 

“You pulled your punches.” 

“I pulled my punches,” he confirms.

This wasn’t the story you were expecting, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless. Frank breaking up fights and setting kids straight was something you could live with—better than dealing with crime rings, crooked feds, and personal vendettas. 

A wave of rowdy laughter soon erupts from somewhere in the distance. When you look down, you realize the two of you have made your way through more of the food than you were expecting. Franks wipes his hands off with a napkin and leans back in his chair, watching as you do the same. 

The silence is intimate. Frank’s knees are still pressed against yours. He looks like he wants to say one thing but changes his mind to another at the last minute. “I’m gonna go grab a shower, yeah?”  

“Yeah,” you mimic the quick, New York way he always clips the word onto the end of his sentences.  

He’s never minded your teasing. Every time he thinks he’s gotten away with masking his amusement, you always catch a tell that gives him away. This time, it’s the twitch of his nose as he stands up to throw his stuff away. You file it away in your memory. 

“Hey, Frank?” He looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was scared.” 

“I know.” 

Later, the lights around the mirror provide a Hollywood-esque glow as you stand at the sink with one hand braced on the counter, brushing your teeth. This rest of the bathroom is sectioned off behind a door, so you feel the lingering steam from Frank's shower as he steps out in his sleep clothes, drying off his hair. The air smells like the complimentary soap, light and fresh. You absentmindedly shift to make room for him as he drapes the towel around his neck and leans close to the mirror to assess his face. 

Now that the blood is gone, the cut looks less imposing. Unphased that you’re bumping shoulders, he reaches for his own toothbrush. 

You’ve never paid any mind to how heavy-handed he is while he brushes, but it stands out now that you’re right beside him sharing the same sink. Perhaps it only appears that way, but you force yourself to bite back a teasing comment as you move on to floss. Frank just stares at you in the mirror with a soft, tired look in his eyes that makes your insides feel all fluttery. You’re sure he’s not even aware he’s doing it—or maybe he knows perfectly well. 

After he’s ditched the towel around his neck and the two of you are making your way to your respective beds, you bring a halt to his movements by wrapping your arms around him. It’s an awkward angle at first because you come at him partially from the side, partially behind. But he adjusts himself so that your chests are pressed together as he wraps an arm around you—just the one initially, taken aback by your embrace. 

“Okay. Oh, boy,” he chuckles in that low way of his that playfully denotes trouble. 

You’re not sure why you made the move. As he adds his other arm, it occurs to you that there are too many motivations for there to be just one. Affection seldom looks like this between the two of you—maybe once every blue moon during partings or close calls. The seamless way you melt into him says otherwise. It’s as if relishing his warmth and the steady constant of his frame was all you were made for. The possibility doesn’t even offend you. You keep holding him and he keeps holding you. 

“You okay?” he asks after a while, smoothing his wide palm up your back. 

You nod before slowly pulling away. “Sorry, I’m just…” You touch a gentle finger to the center of his chest as he looks at you with that familiar furrow between his brows. “Glad you’re back.” Glad he’s still alive.

“Where else would I be, huh?” He taps your chin with his knuckle. “I walk out any door without you, best believe I’m making it back some way somehow.” 

You nod because you don’t trust your voice anymore.  

He gives your chin another affectionate tap. “Alright then. Bedtime.”

•••

A small sliver of light slips in through the slit in the curtains, casting itself onto the lower portion of Frank’s bed right over his feet. Even after staring at it for what feels like forever, you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes and surrender to the grasp of sleep. Yet the steady rise and fall of Frank’s chest continues on like some sort of miracle. You wish you were close enough to feel it for yourself, and when that pull doesn’t go away, you push the covers off and tiptoe over to his bed amid the dark.  

When the other side of his mattress dips, he thinks it’s one of those half-waking dreams until your leg brushes against his in your attempt to join him beneath the sheets. He immediately shifts to accommodate you, tugging more covers over to your side even though there’s already plenty. As he moves, you can smell the familiar scent of his skin and feel the weight of his proximity. 

“Thought you were—thought I was dreaming,” he rasps. 

With the way your heart has begun hammering in your ears, you’re surprised you can hear him. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, you’re okay, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but not from tiredness this time. 

Both of you remain still after you’ve settled, scared that moving would shatter this sweet reality that had been woven together by fate. The warmth of his body calls out to you, but you don’t indulge even though you want to. That hesitation doesn’t last long. The moment he reaches out, you press yourself back against his chest. He lets his hand come to rest over your stomach as he tucks his nose into your head, breathing you in. When you relax further into him, his fingertips venture just beneath the hem of your shirt to grace the soft skin above your waistline. The gesture is achingly chaste. The two of you fall asleep just like that. 

Morning seems to come soon, sunlight spilling into the room around the closed curtains. The light is tender in the way it bathes the charming color palette of the room. Frank’s eyes flutter open to find that neither of you had shifted much during the night. You're further away, but his arm remains draped over your middle. He doesn’t know that you're awake—that you’ve been awake. 

The first thing your gaze fell on was the alarm clock nearing nine o’ clock. You’d slept in way longer than usual, especially for what was meant to be another day on the road. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 

It isn’t until Frank withdraws his arm that you finally allow yourself to shift. The sheets rustle in a tell-tale sign that he’s stretching, and you roll over in time to see him on his back with his arms extended, knuckles brushing against the headboard. You scoot closer, resting a hand on his chest after he lowers his arms and tucks the one furthest from you behind his head, bicep flexing. 

Neither of you say anything, but there’s a quiet sense of acknowledgement—of seeing and being seen. With a lone finger, you draw lazy shapes over his pecs through the fabric of his shirt as he slowly blinks down at your hand. As Frank turns to press a kiss to your temple, he reckons he could get used to mornings like these.  

-

♡ Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[still-fatemeh]

Pandora's Box

Dark era! Dazai osamu x reader

(The reader has a name and a physical description, but feel free to ignore it as you please. I just have a hard time writing a fic without imagining the reader first. The reader's name is tomie. Takes after Tomie Yamazaki, the lady Dazai sensei committed double suicide with. Of course, it doesn't nod back to the real person, I'm just using the name.)

Word count: 1.5k

Her eyes scanned the bar's atmosphere with an expression coated in aloofness, only to land on the bottomless pit of nothingness that was dazai's sole visible eye.

"Aren't you planning to tell me the occasion, dazai-kun?" She said as she sipped the drink, letting the familiar burn of alcohol bring its comfort.

Dazai merely eyed her, looking half-amused and half-bored. Tomie looked like a doll wearing human's skin, a porcelain doll whose life was sucked away of all colour and vibrancy, as if she belonged among the dead. He had no doubt she's long been this way. But there was a beauty to it, to kiss a dangerous doll crafted by the melancholy of this world.

The Shadow Assassin.

Port Mafia's solo assassin with a dangerous ability suited for killing people in close proximity, using infection. A drop of blood from her delicate finger could infect a blade, and the most shallow cut from it would be fatal. But as soon as the blade got out of her close proximity, it'd lose its infectious capabilities.

He sighed quietly and took another sip of his drink. Then, he spoke:

"The occasion? I'm just drinking away my problems."

"From the “occasion”, I meant the reason you wanted me here."

The response was supposed to have a hint of irony in it, but dazai failed to find any humour in her words.

Dazai tilted his head to side, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah... you caught me."

He muttered while staring off into space, leaning casually against the counter.

"The truth is, that I have something I need to ask you."

It wasn't often he asked her for favours with such downcast expression, she noted mentally. He knew his ways, how to put on an airy flirty smile and play the charmer. But this wasn't anything like that. She disliked that facade more than anything in the world...

"Go on, ask away."

She hummed, tapping her fingers absent-mindedly on the bar's counter.

Restless and relentless, the tapping was, he thought.

He smirked, his gaze never leaving her, but he didn't speak right away. He took a deep breath in and out. His mouth twitching a little as he thinks.

"...can you do me a favour, tomichan?"

She raises a brow, eying him with a gaze full of suspicion. Apparently, she couldn't fathom the reason behind him beating around the bush.

"Just say what you want from me."

Tomie spoke out bluntly, putting her glass down on the counter.

Dazai pausef, thinking for a moment. Then he spoke again with a small, bitter smile.

"...I just want you to touch me."

Tomie looks bewildered at his request for a second.

"So... You want another night that goes that way?"

She looked down at her drink, letting out an amused snort.

"Guess I'm in no position to object, huh?" She taunted, trying her best not to throw another snarky remark his way.

The executive glanced down and chuckled humorlessly under his breath.

"Don't pretend like that wasn't a great night for you."

His smirk faded, and he took a sip of his drink before continuing.

"... but I... don't want that right now."

He cleared his throat and set his glass on the counter.

"I want you to try to kill me."

She merely raised a brow.

"Me?"

Disgust and ire swam in her expression, two emotions he rarely saw her display.

"Do it yourself, you must be a professional in that field by now."

She mumbles, her tone laced with irritation.

"Yes, you."

Dazai meets her gaze, his face a mask of eerie calmness.

"It's true, my ability nullifies the power of any other gifted that I touch, but... yours is rather exceptional."

He finished the drink, his fingernail flicking the shot glass.

"See, the remnants of your ability are microscopic. I couldn't nullify it, even if I used my ability on the bloodstain. It'll penetrate deep and infect my bloodstream before the pain even begins! Seems like a fabulous death to me. Just do it, try to kill me."

"Is that an order?" She hissed, her face losing a big portion of the ever-present amusement.

"No, merely a suggestion."

Dazai played with the glass, wearing a bored expression.

"But I know you want to do it. You hate me, don't you? After all, I screwed you over and brought you into this hell that you can't step out of. Don't pretend like you don't want to. I know you want to try. I've seen the disgusted glances you throw at me, I can feel the irk that burns in your heart whenever you talk to me. I've seen how the void in your soul eats away at you. I've seen what you really are. Do it, show me you have the heart to be one of..."

The sound of glass shattering made him pause. It made all the heads of the folks in lupin turn towards them to see what had happened.

Without applying any pressure, the glass shattered in her hand. The broken pieces of glass fell onto her lap, and on the floor, the irritation in her expression grew tenfold.

Dazai's 'No Longer Human' prevented him to have the same fate as the shot-glass in her hand...

What a pity...

That would've been a nice way to die...

"No. If it's not an order, then no. I don't want to be responsible for your pathetic demise."

She spat out bitterly.

"I'm not the type to waste a bullet on something that's already dead."

That was her response to dazai asking her to kill him. He'd apparently forgotten how much the girl could be troublesome sometimes...

Dazai tried to remain unaffected by her words. He grinned slightly and slowly nodded.

"You're right. It doesn't take a genius to see how empty you are."

His demeanour remained composed as he paused, then lifted his eyebrow in a slow, deliberate manner, fixing his gaze on her, the grin lingered.

"... But I also know you don't just want to kill me, you want to devour me. You want to see me suffer... and yet I know you hate yourself more than anything. Am I right?"

Dazai's words were the bare truth, not even one word of his was misplaced or wrong. But tomie wasn't surprised. She was used to his viscous way of slipping into people's minds, his grasp on the human mind was beyond that of what a normal person would be capable of. But sadly, dazai had no way of guessing what goes on in people's hearts.

"Maybe."

She replied curtly, staring at the remains of shattered glass on her skirt.

"You're no good at living dazai, both of us know that. You were born with something rotten inside you and if people get too close, they'll find out. Or maybe..."

Tomie paused, thinking. Then her bloody red lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk.

"There's no rotten thing. It's just emptiness. Like... you weren't meant to live. But, seeing you lose against life itself is always one big source of entertainment for me."

His face was a blend of amusement, listlessness, and a small bit of something indecipherable.

"... So... The precious doll gets a kick off watching me fail?"

He asked. He wanted to sound sardonic, but it didn't quite come out that way. His voice was strained, like a kid that's trying not to cry. The notion was enough to terrify tomie.

"I do see life as a game that I'm losing badly at."

He sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair, letting a faint smirk come to his lips.

"You are right. I wasn't meant to live."

Tomie was observing him through her now hazy vision that alcohol had caused.

With her chin resting on her palm, she just looked at him. No witty commentary, no more jabs, no more banter, nothing.

And dazai could swear something flashed across her expression. Something he wasn't particularly fond of.

Pity

Tomie was pitying him.

She was looking at him like that again. With pity in those glassy eyes.

She was looking at him in the same manner people look at a wounded dog, wondering what the thing had done to deserve such tragedy.

"What can I say? At least your agony amuses me, so it's not completely useless..."

Dazai was silent. Eerily so. The stillness between was jarring, like the shock of a bucket of ice water that was poured over her head. The noise of other regulars was ever-present, but it only served to unnerve her. His eyes were way too big, way too empty for a boy his age.

"... If my agony happens to amuse you, then why don't you tell me things that are sure to sting? Why don't you aim to make me hate you with those words of yours and say things that will destroy me?"

"Am I not... doing that now?"

Tomie pondered out loud with an arched brow. The tense silence was gone. She was thankful.

The girl gave him a subtle look of curiosity that morphed into a lopsided smirk.

"Why, do you think I can do better?"

Dazai gave her a long, unblinking stare. His mouth curled into a sharp smile, his dark brown eye glistening like a lollipop, as he stared right at her.

"Yes. I feel nothing right now. But I know you have the ability to pierce straight through me."

He paused and then spoke again

"... Just do it. Tell me the one thing that's bound to cut deep. Because I know you've been waiting to use it."

Tomie's lips curve into a drunken smile in response to his words.

"I'm not... gonna give you the satisfaction of hating me. I want to keep you on edge, unaware of how much damage I'm actually capable of."

Her smile was uncanny, 'cause it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Or does it? It was... hard to figure out.

Dazai narrows his eyes as he watches her, staring as if he was trying to see past the facade she puts on the surface. He's no stranger to analyzing a person's expression and body language. He does it subconsciously all the time.

It's not fake. It doesn't appear to be deceitful. Maybe he just isn't used to seeing that on her face.

"... Your smile doesn't reach your eyes... which means you're nervous, or you're lying."

He sounded a bit confused.

"...am I right?"

"Oh, are my deceptive abilities lacking, perhaps? Or are you just growing more and more paranoid?"

She calls over the bartender for another drink, while giving him a false innocent expression.

"Unfortunately, it's the second one. That's just how I smile. I thought you might know it by now."

Dazai's eyes darkened, his left eyebrow twitching, and it was just barely noticeable. He was amazing at masking his emotions, or so he thought he was.

Her drunken smile was... weird. It was weird. He couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't stomach it.

Was it that hard to pick up on a seventeen year old girl's inebriated behavioural patterns? Maybe it was because he was fumbling it.

"We both know I'm not paranoid. I'm just good at recognizing lies."

His eye flickered around her expression, looking at her dead eyes, her amused smirk, her face pale as snow and lips red as cherries as blood flow rushed to them. The words “beautiful porcelain” flashed in his mind.

"You..."

He pauses and then finally speaks.

"...Are you really as numb as I am, tomie-chan?"

She smiles as the bartender hands her the drink.

"Maybe."

Tomie smiles once again as she puts the glass to her lips, her lips staining the glass a pretty red.

[kitkatscabinet]

Nothing fucks with my baby

Simon Riley x wife reader

Summary: Simon is the Earth orbiting your sun and he'll do anything to keep you safe and happy, even if that means resorting to bloody means.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: attempted non-con (not by Simon)

@ghosts-cyphera for you pookie, hope you enjoy!

Eight months. It’s been eight long, tortuous months since Simon saw you in person. Eight months of living off brief Skype calls interrupted by work schedules and shitty internet cutting out mid-call, an age since he’s touched you. Since he’s breathed in your scent and cradled you against his muscular chest, since he’s tasted you. Pictures of you weren’t enough, even if you’d gifted him a set of delectable Polaroids showcasing your gorgeous body decorated with black and white lingerie.  

Long deployments had never bothered him, not until you’d become the central part of his life. Simon was the Earth, orbiting your sun reverently and fervently. He’d worship you on his knees for eternity if that’s what you desired.

His appetite for you has always been ravenous, but his need for you has been greatly nourished after months of no contact. The door to your shared home swings open with a bang, the anticipation coursing through his veins diminishing his control in a way he knows you’ll scold him for. His bag is dropped carelessly in the foyer as he stalks through the space, a man on a mission to find you. Not even the weary exhaustion after months of shit sleep and shared communal spaces would deter him from his mission. 

You’re not in your home office or the bedroom and Simon’s frustration simmers under his skin as he marches straight back out the door. It’s only the knowledge that you’ll be devastated to have missed his surprise homecoming that tempers his annoyance. 

Ghost is beyond irritated by the time he arrives at your work, not necessarily at you, he knows how seriously you take your career, it’s one of the reasons he was so drawn to you. Once some lowly private had made a snide remark about you being the breadwinner, scoffing at Simon for letting his wife ‘emasculate’ him like that. It was only Price playing damage control that kept him from a dishonourable discharge that day. He had no regrets, especially after the incident taught people to keep your name out of their mouths. 

It’s late, well past working business hours when he keys into the building using the code you’d given specially for him. So it shouldn’t surprise him how empty it is, most of the lights turned off as he made his way to your office, but Simon hadn’t survived over a decade in the military without learning to trust his gut. A distinct uneasiness settles in his body, narrowed eyes surveying the space for anything out of the ordinary as he increases his pace to get to you. 

The light in your office is on, the door is left open carelessly and gives Simon a clear view of the sight of you bent over your desk trying not to cry as a man holds a gun to your head and fumbles with your sleek dress pants. Simon thought he knew rage, but any anger he’s ever felt is drowned in comparison to the sheer righteous fury that alights his veins. 

He closes the gap in record time, red filtering out the corners of his vision and spraying over his knuckles as he rips the interloper away and viciously lays into him. Any slurred words pleading for mercy are ignored and shut down as Simon’s fist renders the man’s mouth an inoperable bloody mess. 

His arm aches furiously by the time he pulls back, chest heaving with breaths that have long since been silenced from the scumbag that now lay dead on the floor of your office. It’s the sound of your shaky sobs that pulls Simon back from the brink, immediately darting towards you, shaky hands stained with blood cradling you against his bulk gently. 

He’s vibrating with an explosive cocktail of fury, fear, outrage and relief. You press yourself tighter against his chest like you’re trying to burrow into the safety of his ribcage. Simon can’t bring himself to speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy as he buries his face into the top of your head. The silence is broken by the shaky inhales of your rattling breaths and sobs. 

All too soon you’re pulling away, even when he fights to keep you safe and sound against his chest. “Simon? What… what’s going to happen with-” You try and turn your gaze towards the corpse staining your carpet but Simon prevents you with a hand grasping your jaw, preventing you from getting a glimpse at the carnage. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head darling, I’ll take care of it. But first, let's get you home yeah?” He walks you from the building to your car with a supportive arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you against his side before sliding you into the passenger seat of your car. It’s a testament to how shaken you are that you don’t protest, remaining silent and clutching the hand that grasps your thigh like a lifeline. 

It doesn’t take long to tuck you into bed, wrapping you tightly in the blanket like it will protect you from the horrors of the outside world. The adrenaline had faded from your body making way for the exhaustion. Simon doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure the clutches of sleep have pulled you under, and even then, it's with extreme hesitation that he stands and leaves the bedroom, reaching for his phone to make a call. 

Luckily, you don’t wake even once in the hours that follow as he waits for news of the cleanup. He spends that time alternating between checking in on you, watching you breathe peacefully and pacing the linoleum floors that you’d insisted on. 

A single knock on the front door pulls him from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull him further and further into darkness. He opens the door to an unimpressed Price, who pushes his way in with Gaz and Soap trailing after. Expectantly he stares at them, watching as Price lights a cigar and takes a long drag. 

“It’s done. Did you have to make such a mess though son?” It’s an innocuous enough comment but one that raises Ghost’s hackles anyway and he shoots a venomous glare at his captain that would never have been acceptable in any other circumstances. His shoulders tense and it takes everything in him to keep his voice somewhat level. 

“That fucker laid his hands on my wife!” He inhaled shakily as he remembered what he’d almost been too slow to prevent, unable to prevent the rise of volume as he yelled at his captain, “My wife! He’s lucky I didn’t paint the room with his insides!” The baritone of his booming snarl is loud enough that even Soap flinches slightly with widened eyes. 

There’s a tense silence but his captain nods, something like approval in his gaze before his eyes slide towards the right and Simon turns just in time to witness you call his name, voice hoarse with sleep and eyes red from tears. 

He crosses the space and curls you against him in record time, nonchalantly throwing a dismissive wave towards his team who simply nod in understanding and file back outside. “Were those the boys? You didn’t have to kick them out” you murmured though Simon was already hushing you, leading you back to bed with a firm hand on the small of your back. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout them lovie, they were leavin’ anyway” he waved away your concerns, finally kicking off his shoes, trapping you in his arms and pulling you down onto the mattress. You squeak at his actions, giggling as his stubble tickles the skin of your neck. 

Despite how pent-up and desperate for your touch he is, Simon makes no move to escalate the situation, settling you in his arms and simply breathing you in. Neither of you speak about the earlier incident, not willing to shatter the peace. Though Simon lets out the occasional hum when your hands trace gentle circles over his heart, focusing on the steady beat of his pulse beneath your palm. 

Inevitably the lingering emotions of the day would have to be dealt with, but not yet, Simon would allow himself to relish in the peace just a little longer.

[lovelyghst]

simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.

simon riley and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.

simon riley thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.

"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."

simon riley adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.

simon riley allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.

simon riley will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.

simon riley never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.

simon riley gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.

the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.

his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.

you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.

you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.

heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?

he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.

"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.

and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)

...

You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.

You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.

Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.

Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."

This is a nightmare. A hallucination.

"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."

"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"

"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.

"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."

"You bit me!"

"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."

"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."

⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇

You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.

There’s nowhere to go.

Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"

"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.

Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.

Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.

The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.

He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.

"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.

You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.

Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”

Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."

You make it up another two footholds before you slip.

Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.

You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.

Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."

You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?

"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"

"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."

"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"

You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"

"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”

Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"

Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.

He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.

"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."

You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...

Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"

You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."

You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.

Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"

Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."

You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.

You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.

He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.

Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?

Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.

You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.

"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.

"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."

You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"

Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.

At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."

“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.

At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.

Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"

You huff. "When I can, clearly."

He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."

"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.

"Then how d'you catch food?"

"I don't have to catch my food."

"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."

"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.

"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."

"If that's even possible," Gaz says.

You scowl. Rude.

Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."

"Watch it."

A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"

"Maybe."

"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."

You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.

Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.

"We both have bones.”

"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.

He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.

Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.

"My thigh is like a seal?"

"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.

You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.

Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.

You grab his hands. "Hey!"

He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”

"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.

"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"

You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."

A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."

"Absolutely not."

"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."

“Let us in,” Gaz says.

“No.”

"Not even me?" he asks.

"No."

They both frown.

"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"

You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"

"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"

Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."

"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."

He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.

Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"

You cross your arms. "None of your business."

"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.

“I didn't say that.”

"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.

All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"

Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”

"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"

Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.

Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."

"But it's morning!"

"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."

"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.

"It will,” Gaz agrees.

You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.

A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”

You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.

Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"

"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order

read on ao3.

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.

Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.

Both on, and off, the field.

That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.

And that thing had a name.

John Price.

He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.

It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.

Nonetheless.

It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.

But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?

Yeah. You don't fear many things.

But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.

You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.

"You four. My office."

Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.

To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.

Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.

"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.

You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.

It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.

You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.

Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.

The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.

His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.

"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."

There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.

Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.

"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"

You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.

It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.

The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.

Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.

In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.

Neither of you say a word.

Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."

Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.

"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."

Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.

And, then, it's your turn.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."

And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.

But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.

That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.

"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."

The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.

Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.

"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.

Captain.

"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.

Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.

"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."

He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.

On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.

His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.

He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"

It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.

With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."

And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.

"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."

You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.

Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.

The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.

"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."

Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.

"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.

When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.

Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.

You never thought you'd see the day.

"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.

But... not getting prepped? At all?

Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.

Oh. Fuck.

He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.

His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.

You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.

Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.

"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.

Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.

He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.

Not today, however.

That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.

"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."

He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.

But, like directed, Simon fucks you.

He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.

No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.

It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.

"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.

"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."

You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"

Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.

"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.

"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."

Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.

He pulls out.

"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.

Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"

You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.

That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.

It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.

"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.

Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.

The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.

"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."

You realise, then, what exactly this is.

It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.

It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.

This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.

But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.

You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.

He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.

You love him. So effortlessly.

Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.

Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.

John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.

Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.

Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.

"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.

Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.

You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.

"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"

Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.

"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.

John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.

"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.

You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.

"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.

So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.

Instead, it only makes you wetter.

Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.

With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.

"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.

Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.

"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.

Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.

"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."

"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.

Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.

"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.

Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.

Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.

"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.

You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --

"Stop, Johnny."

Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.

Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.

"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.

It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.

"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.

"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.

Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.

Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.

Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.

John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.

"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.

It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.

"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.

Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.

He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.

Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.

"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.

It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.

"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.

"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."

Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.

You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.

John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.

He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.

Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.

"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.

There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.

"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.

"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."

John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."

"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.

You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.

Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.

John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.

a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ange1heavensent]

Jackson Girlfriend!Ellie Headcanons

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

w/c ≈ 660

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☆ Entertainment in Jackson is limited, but movie nights are a constant in your relationship with Ellie. Thankfully, Ellie has a TV in her house, and many nights are spent cuddled together in her bed watching films. You two quickly discovered you don’t always agree on what to watch. To solve this, you both take turns picking movies. When it’s your turn, you sometimes choose horror films, which Ellie "watches" with her face buried in your neck, a pillow, or with her eyes tightly shut. It always amuses you how someone whose job is to kill infected can be terrified of ghosts and jump scares. Even if she’s afraid, she never complains. You would happily wrap your arms around Ellie and help her cover her eyes from what scared her. 

☆ More on girlfriend!ellie is that she cannot be quiet during movies. She loves making snarky, dirty remarks about the actors and actresses, often with a grin on her face. She also has a knack for figuring out the plot within the first 20 minutes. Sometimes she accidentally blurts out her theory, forgetting that you might want to enjoy the movie without spoilers. But most of the time, she’s mindful and keeps her predictions to herself.

☆ Ellie always has cold hands, and for some reason, they always seem to find their way to you. Whether it’s under the covers or sneaking a hand under your shirt when you're not paying attention, she loves hearing your whiny complaint when her icy fingers touch your warm skin.  

☆ Ellie has a habit of bringing you little trinkets she finds while on patrol. Broken jewelry, random rocks, tiny figurines, she always finds the strangest things, but she'll always justify bringin it home to you because she says that they reminded her of you. Over time, these trinkets pile up in your shared space. Ellie loves the cluttered, homey vibe. At this point, though, it’s more “messy” than “cluttered,” with stuff scattered all over the house.

☆ Teaching you to play the guitar is one of Ellie’s favorite things to do. She’s patient with you, gently correcting your fingers as you fumble over chords and she always insists that you’ll get better with time. Sometimes, when you’re just not getting it, she’ll take your hands and move them herself or hold the chords herself and let you do the strumming, all while smiling softly at you, humming softly in your ear. 

☆ Ellie always begs you to cut her hair when it starts getting too long. Even though you’re terrified of messing it up, making it uneven or too short, she always reassures you. "Hair grows back," she says with a shrug. "I don’t care, but you’re the one who has to look at me every day" she jokes, easing your nerves. It’s become a regular routine now, and even though you’re still nervous every time, you’ve gotten pretty good at it.

☆ Ellie is notorious for stealing the bed covers at night. You’ll wake up shivering, only to find her cocooned in a mountain of blankets, fast asleep. You always manage to wrestle a bit back, but she’s a blanket thief through and through.

☆ Ellie tries her best to comfort you when you’re sad, but she’s not exactly sure how to do it. She’ll awkwardly pat your back or try to make you laugh with silly jokes. It’s the thought that counts, and you appreciate every clumsy attempt she makes.

☆ Ellie draws you all the time. She’ll scribble sketches of you in her journal, your eyes, your smile, the way your hair falls across your face. Sometimes she even draws your hands, completely obsessed with the little details. If she ever finds an old camera on patrol, she’ll snatch it up in a heartbeat. Ellie loves taking photos of you, capturing moments where you aren’t paying attention. She swears it’s because “the lighting was good,” but you know it’s just because she’s crazy about you.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[hotluncheddie]

eddie, steve

.🥞✨

‘uh, the pancakes with bacon please, extra syrup? thanks.’

eddie knows that order. he makes it every saturday night, so late it’s almost morning.

but he’s never heard that voice before, never heard it so close, right by the pass window.

he swallows. turning from the sink in the back to face out into the diner, someone’s sat at the counter, right across from him.

the most beautiful boy eddie’s ever seen.

he’s looking right at eddie, cheeks slightly pink, fiddling with a still wrapped straw. he looks perfect and cozy and adorable, hair sleep rumpled and in a hoodie that swallows up his soft lines, making him look even softer.

‘coming right up.’ eddie rasps, his own cheeks colouring.

but the boy, he smiles. ducks his head, looks up at eddie through his lashes.

eddie’s a fucking goner.

-

steve can’t believe it. his eyes are even bigger this close up, big and brown and sparkling with life.

his hands are just as nice this close up too, delicate but capable as they move around where steve can see. he sticks his tongue out a little when he concentrates. it’s adorable.

he’s the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

he puts steves finished pancakes in the window with a little smile, rings the bell and seems to blush even harder. almost cringing at the sound. it’s makes steve laugh, he’s cute.

and they’re still the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. even sober and nervous and exited like he is.

steve can’t help closing his eyes like always when he takes his first bite. always blown away by their sweet fluffy texture. and he makes his way through them a little quicker than normal, without robin to distract him.

they taste as good as normal but he’s right there. right there watching steve eat them. something about it makes him feel shy, barely daring to look up from his plate. but when he does the line cook has the softest smile on his face and steve relaxes, tucks his hand under his hoodie to rest on his stomach like normal. finished his pancakes.

when steve looks up again, the guy is staring at his empty plate, kind of stuck in space. but then he vanished for a moment and the door to the kitchen opens. and he’s coming over, picking up the syrupy plate and he has freckles, bats tattooed on his arm.

he’s so close. he’s so pretty this close.

the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

‘eddie?’ steve blurts, exited, finally able to read his name tag. his names eddie.

his name is eddie.

eddie’s cheeks get pink, the tips of his ears. he looks at steve with wide eyes ‘yeah?’ he asks, voice small and confused.

steve grins at him. ‘your names eddie.’ and he watched eddie’s smile bloom, he has dimples.

‘wha’ eddie clears his throat. ‘what’s yours?’ and steve feels his heart burst, feels like sunshine and crisp leaves.

‘steve.’ he says, a little breathless.

‘steve.’ eddie whispers.

‘when do you go on break?’ steve asks, heart beating in his throat.

eddie just shrugs, eyes still wide. ‘whenever. as long as there’s no customers in.’ and steve realises he’s the only one here. it makes him blush more, for some reason.

‘make us another batch?’ he asks, deciding to be brave, leaning over the counter, just to be a little closer. ‘we can share.’ and it’s so worth it. to see the smile grow on eddie’s face, watch him nod, watch a curl slip out of his bun. watch him work his magic through that little pass window. stealing glances at steve as he goes.

-

watching steve enjoy his food is even better close up. even better than eddie could’ve imagined.

they’re sitting in steve’s usual booth, eddie’s where robin normally sits, he finally has a name for the cool girl steve hangs out with. gets to hear a little about how they met, can tell he loves her, so much. it’s sweet, his eyes shining as he talks.

so is the way steve cuts the pancakes, sweet, pushing perfectly stacked mouthfuls towards eddie to have. pancake, bacon, pancake. all covered in syrup, sticky and delicious.

eddie never really even liked pancakes much, more of a waffle guy. but sitting here, watching steve eat them, laughing and smiling at things eddie says. jaw just a little soft, upper lip smattered with hair. watching steve sigh and stretch when they’re done. that hand coming to rest on his stomach again, the way it always does, every saturday night.

eddie knows he’ll always love pancakes.

-

‘how do you get them to be so good?’ steve asks, hand circling eddie’s wrist loosely, stopping him before he goes back to his job, an orders come in, he has to go. but steve needs to ask, wants to know. wants one more moment with him.

eddie smiles, takes steve’s hand and kisses the back of it. and it’s so out of place, at denny’s, at 4 am that steve giggles, almost manic. it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘they’re made with love sweetheart.’ eddie says, looking up at him from his bow, kissing his hand again before walking away. the napkin with steve’s number on tucked safely in his back pocket.

steve’s forearm scrawled in the black ink of eddie’s own.

steve goes home and falls straight to sleep. so late its almost morning, like every saturday night.

he dreams of brown eyes, and syrup.

<3

fin.

ty for reading! mwah!

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @spectrum-spectre @stevesbipanic @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @acedorerryn @scoops-aboy86

[grison-in-space]

I'm genuinely sorry, I was really tired and couldn't think of the word that mad pride movements use. I'm new to all of this. I thought you would be more open to it because you've reblogged from radical leftists (anarchists and communists both) within the past couple of weeks and they're all for Veganism afaik. The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different. I'm not spamming people with it, but I was inspired by an ask by a nonvegan and started asking popular bloggers why they weren't vegan to open up conversation and potentially change people's views on animals. If I've made you uncomfortable I'm sorry, though I admit I'm really confused by your standpoint. You do know that the only reason communism hasn't succeeded is because of America? Anyway, sorry again, I'm also autistic and I didn't mean to dismiss your legitimate dietary needs. Can I recommend acti-vegan's posts? While I understand that you can't go vegan, perhaps their blog will at least help you understand our points, they're much more well-written than my asks and they have plenty of legitimate science resources at hand. Thanks for listening, I'll take your advice into account. I'm not trying to not listen, it's just frustrating because so many people say they get it but they don't change, and if they truly got it they would, you know?

Okay, I get that you didn't mean to be offensive, and fuck knows I shouldn't throw stones when it comes to forgetting specific words. (This happens to me fairly frequently; it's a thing.)

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

So yesterday I actually wrote out and then deleted a whole paragraph to the effect of "part of my deep, deep frustration with animal rights activism hooks into my commitment to the phrase 'nothing about us without us,' because I frequently see the same kinds of emotional projection without making the effort to listen to animals on their own terms from animal rights activism groups."

The first thing I need to make clear to you is that this--veganism and animal rights activism (ARA) more generally--is not new to me. I am in my mid-thirties and I have never had a job of any kind that did not revolve around animals in some way, I've spent time in rescue spaces and vets and universities, I'm queer and I have spent most of my life in leftish progressive circles, so it's kind of hard to miss.

Essentially, you are proselytizing to me as if you were a newly baptized evangelical convinced I had never heard of Jesus, because if only I had heard and understood his holy word, I would be converted instantly to his light! It's not any less irritating when the belief system isn't explicitly a religion.

More under the cut, because this one is long.

Disclaimer one: Veganism isn't synonymous with ARA ideology, but it's deeply entangled with it, and ARA ideology drives the movement of veganism as a (theoretically non-religious) ethical decision. And I object very strongly to the framework imposed by ARA activists. When I say I am not vegan, I am saying that I have considered the ethical framework that underpins veganism as an ethics movement and I have deliberately rejected it.

The second piece of context you should know that when I talk about being a behavioral ecologist, I mean that I'm a researcher who works on animals and that my framework is rooted in trying to understand animals in their own natural ecological context, without necessarily comparing them to humans. There's a lot of ways to study animal behavior you might run into, including attempts to understand universal principles of behavior that transcend species (animal cognition) and attempts to understand how to better treat animals in human care (animal welfare). You know Temple Grandin? Temple Grandin is an ethologist (the field that gave rise to behavioral ecology, also focused on animals within their species context) who worked on animal welfare (finding ways to make slaughterhouses less stressful to livestock, among other things).

Third point: my profession also means is that I work directly with animals--in my case, currently mice--and that I do not think research with animal subjects is wrong as long as all efforts are made to ensure maximal welfare and enrichment for the animals involved. This is another major bone of contention politically between my entire field and ARA groups, and you should know that I have also spent my entire professional career under the shadow of, well, people who care strongly enough about those ideas to invade my workspace and potentially seize my animals and "free" them into a world they do not have the tools to survive in.

So there's where I am coming from. Let's get back to what you're saying. Here, I'll quote again in case you have the same crappy short-term memory I do.

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

Point the first: Even within humans, I don't think that all brains should be treated the exact same. Especially in a disability context! After all, what is an accommodation if not an agreement to treat someone differently because they need certain things to access a space? Accommodations by definition fly in the face of this "treating everyone the same" understanding of fairness. I think all (human) brains are equally valuable, and I think all brains are worthy of respect, but I do not think that it's wise or kind of me to assert that everyone should be treated in the same way. For one thing, I teach students. If there's one thing teaching has taught me, it's that a good teacher is constantly assessing and adjusting their instruction to meet students where they're at, identify failures of understanding, and keep the attention of the classroom.

Point the second: animals do have different brains from humans. That does not mean that animals are inferior, but it does mean that they are alien. There's a philosophy paper, Nagel, What Does It Mean to Be a Bat, that you might find illuminating on this front. Essentially, the point of the paper is that animals have their own experiences and sensory umwelts that differ profoundly enough from humans' that we cannot know what it is like to be a different species without experiencing life as one, and therefore we must be terribly careful not to project our own realities onto theirs. That is, our imagination cannot tell us what a bat values and what it experiences. That is why we have to use careful evidence to understand what an animal is thinking, without relying on our ability to identify with and comprehend that animal. I have watched ARA groups deliberately encourage people to shut their reasoning brains off and emotionally identify themselves with animals without considering within-species context for twenty years. This is a mainstream tactic. It is not an isolated event and for that reason alone I would be opposed to them.

Point the third: there is a definite tendency in lots of people to care deeply and intensely about both animals and people who are seen as "lesser" in status--children, poor people, disabled people, etc--just as long as those groups never contradict the good feelings that come from the helper's own assessment of themselves and their actions. In humans, when the "needy" point out that some forms of help are actually harmful, the backlash is often swift and vicious. This is why animals are such an appealing target of support and intervention. They can't speak back and say "in fact, you are projecting my love of this frilly pink tutu onto me, and I think it's uncomfortable and prevents me from walking." They can't say "I kind of like it better when I don't have to worry about getting hit by a car, actually?"

(By the way: this is also why it's offensive to compare disabled people to animals, because this is generally done at least in part to silence the voices of disabled people speaking for our selves and our communities. We have access to language, and we use it, thank you.)

All forms of animal welfare intervention going right back to the founding of the first RSPCA have been incredibly prone to being hijacked by classist, racist, and otherwise bigoted impulses. This is because animals offer an innocent face for defense that conveniently cannot criticize the actions taken by their champions, and they therefore provide a great excuse for actions taken against marginalized members of human society. Think about the very first campaign the RSPCA ever did, which was banning using dogs as draft animals: a use that is not inherently harmful to dogs, which many dogs actively enjoy, but also one that was specifically used by poor Londoners and which in fact immediately resulted in a great butchery of the dogs that Londoners could no longer afford to feed rather than allowing poor people and their dogs to continue working together. No one was, of course, challenging the particular uses of dogs or any other animal favored by the wealthy. This kind of thing is so, so, so common. Obviously it doesn't mean that all interventions to prioritize animal welfare are inherently bigoted, but it does mean that we have to be critical about our choice of challenges.

On top of everything, the animal rights activist movement's obsession with "exploitation" is a function of the idea that humans are sinful or otherwise Bad in how we interact with animals by definition. For example, take the chicken rescue near me that is so obsessed with the possibility that some human somewhere might benefit from an animal in their care that they implant every hen they adopt out with hormonal implants such that the hens no longer lay eggs--a function that is normally a natural byproduct of a chicken's reproductive system, fertilized or not. A mutualistic relationship involves both parties benefiting, and that is the case for an awful lot of human relationships with animals. In general, the idea that associating with animals is a thing that can only harm animals rather than being a trade between two species to enrich one another is all over these groups. It's just so myopically focused on human shame that it prevents practical interventions that might benefit everyone, and often promotes interventions that don't directly benefit animals but sure do make humans miserable. For example, this kind of thinking is why groups like PETA are absolutely awful at effectively rescuing unwanted dogs and cats: they think pets living in "bondage" with humans are an essentially sad outcome, rather than one that might be mutually enjoyed by all parties.

I'm tired and my meds haven't kicked in, so I'm not currently going to handle the communism thing except to point out that while the US absolutely did destabilize a number of leftist regimes in South America and Africa, Russia and China between them have certainly not treated their own people kindly, either (and more so their own client-nations, as with the former members of the USSR). Please do some reading about the Holodomor and Lysenko in Russia (and frankly all of the details of Stalin's regime) and the Cultural Revolution in China in particular. Khmer Rouge might be worth looking into, too. I am not saying the US's hands are clean, you understand, because they are not; they're as steeped in red as anyone else's. What I am saying is that for people living on the ground, communist revolutions have this nasty habit of turning into bloodbaths and arbitrary slaughters. Do not let your distaste for the US's bloodsoaked imperialism (which, yes, is and was bad) let you fall into the trap of becoming a tankie.

And if you don't know what a tankie is, you really, really should take some time to learn.

[fandoms-x-reader]

MC Faints

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers (individually) react to MC who faints. Word Count: 4,146

This time of year had been the most stressful for you.

The brothers were always fighting for your attention, so you rarely had time for yourself. 

You felt like the second you got home from RAD you were being pulled left and right by one brother or another.

And while you appreciated that they wanted to hang out with you, exams were coming up and as an exchange student, there was an immense amount of pressure on you to do good.

And since you were under that pressure, you had to find time to make sure you were studying.

Which unfortunately meant cutting into your sleep schedule.

You were overworked and exhausted and the only thing that was keeping you upright was the anxiety of knowing that the exams were in the next few days.

Lucifer was a very overworked person himself. So, he had a hard time noticing when someone was struggling to keep up with their workload.

It’s not that he couldn’t pick up on the signs of your exhaustion, it’s just between student council business and keeping his brothers out of trouble, he didn’t really have time to look for those signs.

So, when you fainted in the middle of a student council meeting, he was more surprised than anything.

You had been standing there, looking just as you usually did with no noticeable signs of distress.

And then the next second you were on the ground with his brothers surrounding you.

After the initial shock, Lucifer began thinking of reasons as to why you may have fainted and that’s when all of the little signals suddenly became clear to him.

It’s as if they were bright neon signs that stated you were overtired and ready to collapse.

And Lucifer suddenly became very protective of you, telling his brothers to give you space before whisking you away to the House of Lamentation where he could properly take care of you.

Lucifer held your hand the entire time you were asleep, gently touching his other hand to your forehead occasionally to make sure you weren’t running a fever or anything like that.

When you finally woke up, Lucifer gave you a small smile, apologizing to you for not noticing the signs of your suffering earlier.

“It’s not your fault, Lucifer,” you reassured him before adding, “I just need to do a better job of managing my time.”

Lucifer planned on helping with that.

He already planned to have a long talk with his brothers about respecting your time so that you didn’t have to sacrifice your own health just to keep up with your grades.

On top of that, Lucifer invited you to his room after school much more often. 

He claimed that it was to help make sure you were staying relaxed, but in reality, he needed a break just as much as you did.

And you were the only thing that helped him relax. 

Demons didn’t get sick the same way that humans did.

That was one thing you had come to learn during your time in the Devildom.

They didn’t have a flu season and they didn’t get shots to stave off illness.

So when you started feeling sick, you didn’t think to mention it to the brothers.

After all, you were sure it would only end in a very long conversation consisting of you trying to explain your sickness while they bombarded you with a hundred questions.

You did your best to hide how awful you were really feeling, wearing a smile and doing your best to not look shaky or pale.

And it seemed to work because the brothers were as persistent as ever about spending time with you - especially Mammon.

And you loved spending time with Mammon. You thought it was adorable how he always fought for your attention.

But, today, you were hoping that he would get tired of going out and doing things and let you return to the House of Lamentation.

You would be fine even if he wanted to watch a movie with you at home. Then, if you fell asleep, you could just say you were really tired. It’s not like Mammon would be mad at you for very long anyway.

But, of course, when you were feeling very under the weather,+

Mammon decided he had a full day planned for the two of you.

From shopping to watching him do a photo shoot to trying out new restaurants - Mammon just wanted to spend the whole day together.

You did your best to keep up - to act like nothing was wrong.

But at the end of the day your ailment caught up to you and as you were standing next to Mammon at the casino, you felt incredibly lightheaded.

“I think I’m going to go sit down for a moment,” you told Mammon and he gave you a small frown.

“But, I’m about to win the jackpot!” Mammon argued and you once again smiled at him, agreeing to stay.

Moments later, Mammon did win the jackpot. He let out a victorious laugh and turned to celebrate with you only to find you collapsing into his arms.

His celebration was cut short as he was now freaking out trying to get you to wake up and gently brushing your hair out of your face as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

He rushed you back to the House of Lamentation and after Lucifer and Satan looked over you, they determined you had just fainted from being sick.

They gave Mammon some medicine to give to you when you woke up and then left.

Mammon stayed by your side the entire time and he felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when you finally opened your eyes.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our day together,” you replied and it only made Mammon more sad as he pulled you into a hug.

“I thought you died,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you, and you could see how affected he was by seeing you faint.

“I’m sorry, but I’m okay. It’s just a cold,” you told him and although he was satisfied with your answer, he wasn’t letting you go from his arms.

He needed to hold you there for a little while longer, just as some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Levi was absolutely determined to finish the new game that he had bought.

It was a two-player game that he specifically purchased because he thought you would enjoy playing it with him.

Which meant that you were being dragged along for the ride whether you wanted to or not.

Levi wanted to finish the game as quickly as possible so that he could be the first person to review it and in order to do so, he had you pull two all-nighters back to back.

You were exhausted and ready to call it quits, but Levi was very convincing when he wanted to be. 

He knew all of the right bribes to offer you to keep you awake and playing.

On top of that, you were genuinely happy to be spending time with Levi.

But as the alarm clock rang after the second all-nighter that happiness you were feeling was overtaken by your exhaustion. 

You let out a groan as you sat down your controller, looking at the clock in Levi’s room as if it betrayed you by signaling it was time to get ready for school.

You and Levi still hadn’t finished the game and you couldn’t help but stare off into space with dread as you realized that meant that you would be in Levi’s room again after school today trying to finish it.

And no amount of caffeine would help you survive a third all-nighter in a row.

You didn’t say anything to Levi as you left his bedroom to get ready for school. In fact, you didn’t say anything to any of the brothers all day.

You weren’t trying to be rude, you were just too tired to care.

It wasn’t until you fainted at lunch that they realized something was genuinely wrong.

They all clamored over to you as you went down in the middle of the room, the other students whispering and asking what happened.

The scene caused quite the commotion which led to Diavolo finding out quickly. 

 As you rested in the infirmary, Diavolo questioned the brothers about what could have caused you to collapse.

Lucifer turned to Levi, claiming that he had been spending the most time with you lately.

Diavolo asked Levi if he noticed you feeling unwell and Levi innocently told him you looked like you were fine during your two all-nighters together.

“Wait - did you say that they hadn’t slept in two straight days?” Diavolo questioned and all of the brothers looked at Levi incredulously. 

Levi’s words suddenly registered in his own mind as he realized that he was the reason you fainted.

He immediately started panicking as his mind tried to come up with ways to make it up to you.

And as if his guilt wasn’t punishment enough, he had to endure a multiple-hour-long lecture from Lucifer about the importance of sleep for humans. 

Levi was afraid to face you the next time you saw him. He was afraid that you would hate him for forcing you to stay awake with him.

You reassured him that you had fun playing the game with him.

“Next time, maybe just let me get a couple hours of sleep in,” you teased and a blush rushed to his cheeks as he nodded his head.

Levi was really happy that you still wanted to play games with him despite what happened and he made a promise to himself to prioritize your health over the game from now on.

Between his brothers and the busy life of being a member of the student council, you and Satan didn’t get a whole lot of free time to spend together.

So, when the opportunity did present itself where Satan was able to steal you away, the two of you liked to take advantage of it.

There was an outdoor festival happening up in the human world and Satan wanted to take you to it.

He knew that it had been a while since you visited and the festival had an overall theme that he knew you would both enjoy.

You were ecstatic when he asked you to go with him and the two of you left almost immediately after.

The festival was absolutely gorgeous and it was full of things that you and Satan could do together.

You shared the cuisines, you bought souvenirs, and you even participated in some of the side activities they offered.

And while you were enjoying your time with Satan, there was one problem - the heat.

The Devildom had no sun to shine brightly or warm the weather so you had grown accustomed to the weather there.

But in the human world, the sun was at large, beating down on you.

You hadn’t prepared for it to be so hot and were starting to feel light-headed.

Satan was usually so attentive and would recognize something was off the second that you started to not feel good.

But, he was so distracted by everything else going on that he didn’t notice.

He was like a kid in the candy shop, holding your hand as he dragged you from stall to stall.

He was talking to a vendor about a necklace they had when you felt like your head was starting to spin.

Satan turned to ask your opinion on the piece of jewelry with full intentions of buying it for you.

But, when he faced you, he saw how flushed your complexion was.

He barely had time to react before you were collapsing.

The necklace was long forgotten as Satan easily caught you in his arms.

He immediately went into doctor mode, doing his best to recall everything he had learned about humans.

His mind was racing with possible reasons as to why you could have fainted. The possibilities seemed endless.

Until he placed his hand on your forehead and noticed that you felt hot to the touch.

And it was like everything had clicked into place as he was suddenly rushing you back to the House of Lamentation.

He laid you in his bed because he figured it would be easier to take care of you there since the other brothers wouldn’t barge in.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to figure out where you were and what happened but a deep blush coated your cheeks as you began to comprehend the situation.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” you stated, refusing to look at Satan.

He immediately leaned forward and cupped your cheeks before tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

“You didn’t ruin our date. I still had a great time - did you?” Satan questioned and you nodded your head.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before telling you, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You leaned into his touch and he pulled you into his arms, attempting to calm his heart rate that had been racing since your first collapsed.

As calm and composed as he remained, Satan had been so scared when you fainted and now he was going to keep you in his arms for however long it took to convince himself that you were okay.

You were heading home after school when Asmo suddenly approached you.

He had such a happy smile on his face when he saw you and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

Asmo had been invited to a special event that night and he asked if you would be his plus one.

You could see the jealous looks you were getting from miscellaneous other people as Asmo stood before you with a hopeful look.

When you agreed to go, Asmo let out a happy noise of excitement before taking your hand and leading you into town.

The two of you needed to start getting ready right away!

He wanted the two of you to have matching outfits so he took you to Majolish to get new ones.

The two of you spent a while there trying on different outfits, attempting to find matching ones that fit both your and Asmo’s styles.

And you had finally found an outfit that had a mix of both. 

There was just one problem - it had a corset. And in true corset fashion, it was quite restricting. 

Asmo was dying over the way you looked in that outfit, giving you compliment after compliment and looking so happy while doing it.

You didn’t tell him about the corset being too tight, instead agreeing to buy it.

The event would only be for a little while, so you figured it would be fine. All you had to do was last until the end of the event.

And you had managed to do just that, albeit with a bit of a struggle.

You felt like the corset was somehow getting tighter and tighter as the night went on and you were starting to feel short of breath and hot. 

Asmo could see that you weren’t feeling one hundred percent, so he suggested that the two of you head back to the House of Lamentation.

Though, he didn’t understand why you weren’t feeling well. Did you have something to drink when he wasn’t looking?

The two of you barely made it to the House of Lamentation when everything went black and you fell to the ground.

Asmo panicked immediately, shouting for Lucifer to come outside and help you as his hands shakily held your head, not knowing what to do.

When Lucifer inspected the scene in front of him, he noticed the corset and demanded Asmo take it off.

Lucifer was so sure that the article of clothing was the cause of your fainting so Asmo quickly rushed you to your bedroom and took the corset off you, staring intensely at your face as he waited for something to happen.

You woke up shortly after and Asmo let out a loud sigh of relief as he pulled you into his arms, blinking past the tears that had formed in his eyes.

He stroked your hair as you took deep breaths, the feeling of your lungs expanding fully was something that felt strangely nice.

“If the outfit was too tight, we could have gotten you something else,” Asmo told you softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to look good for your event,” you replied and Asmo pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and look you in the eyes.

“You look perfect in everything. You didn’t have to suffer all night - I wanted you to have a good time,” Asmo replied.

“I did have a good time, Asmo,” you reassured him and he pulled you back into his arms.

“Just don’t ever do that again,” he said quietly as he tried to push the image of you fainting out of his mind.

You were running late to breakfast and the brothers had noticed that his had been a recurring thing with you lately.

The day before, you were late for breakfast because you overslept after staying up all night studying.

And then you were also late to dinner later that day after Solomon unexpectedly asked for your help with something.

And today you had sent them all a message letting them know you would be late to breakfast due to a shower mishap.

Asmo attempted to ask you to explain in further detail, but the others didn’t press the subject.

They knew that you would be a little late, but it was only a few minutes until everyone had to leave to make it to RAD on time.

Beel had been staring at your plate of food the entire time, doing his best to restrain himself. 

He knew that after missing both breakfast and dinner yesterday you would be hungry. But, if you weren’t going to eat it, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

After waiting a couple more minutes, Lucifer let out a small sigh before allowing Beel to eat your food.

Just then, you came bounding into the dining room with a look of shock on your face as you watched Beel gobble up your food in one bite.

“Hey, that was mine,” you said with a small pout and Beel looked like a deer in headlights as he sat your plate down.

“You were late,” Lucifer retorted before adding, “Time to go.”

You had a small frown the entire way to RAD and Beel felt guilty every time he heard your stomach rumble.

He was determined to make it up to you by getting you extra food at lunch.

But your hunger was starting to really get to you and by the second class you were starting to feel lightheaded.

You tried not to act any differently but you could feel Beel’s eyes on you during the class and it was only adding to the myriad of things you were feeling right now.

You felt overwhelmed by everything and as soon as the bell rang signally class was over, you stood up - only to fall right back down.

Beel managed to get to you just in time to catch you, but he started panicking when he saw that you were unconscious. 

He immediately lifted you off the ground and carried you to the school infirmary. 

The guilt he was feeling now was eating him alive. He knew that you had fainted because you were hungry.

If only he had a little more self-control and didn’t eat your food then maybe you wouldn’t have fainted.

When you woke up, you were immediately met with Beel’s concerned eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Beel asked you and you sat up slightly as you realized what had happened. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, though he suspected that wasn’t one hundred percent true.

You looked around the room and noticed Beel had bought a ton of snacks and drinks and laid them out on the bed next to you.

As soon as he deemed you were okay enough, he handed you snack after snack and apologized profusely for eating your food.

He would make sure you never fainted from hunger again. 

You and Belphie shared such romantic moments sometimes.

Other times, he acted like such a brat.

It seemed like one of Belphie’s favorite things to do was to mess with you. Especially when he was feeling particularly testy.

Lucifer woke him up from his nap? I guess that means you wanted to pick a fight with him too so now he’s relentlessly trying to wrestle and tickle you.

Beel decided to eat his food that morning? Well, then you don’t get to eat either. But, you don’t mind, right?

And you would always retaliate which would end up leading to a war between you.

And both of you refused to back down.

In fact, sometimes it got to the point where the other brothers avoided the two of you, afraid of being collateral damage.

You wanted something to drink in the middle of the night, so you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed your favorite from the fridge.

You poured yourself a cup and sipped it quietly, immediately regretting it as you did so.

The taste was awful and you could hear Belphie’s snickering somewhere nearby.

You swallowed the drink and glared at the entrance to the kitchen as Belphie entered, holding his sides from laughing.

Why was he only awake at the most inconvenient times?

You decided to make Belphie pay for his actions.

“Belphie - did you put something in this?” you asked him, holding a hand to your stomach as if you were about to be sick.

“You should see your face right now,” he replied, continuing to laugh.

You placed one hand on your head and started fanning yourself with your other hand.

“Okay, but you made sure it was safe for humans, right?” you asked him and Belphie paused. You were just pulling his leg, right?

You took a few strained breaths before asking him, “Is it really hot in here?”

Belphie’s expression had turned from one of amusement to one of slight panic as he watched you, trying to figure out if you were lying or not.

He was positive what he put in your drink wouldn’t harm you, but he didn’t exactly look it up to check.

Belphie’s eyes were wide and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as you collapsed to the ground.

He was panicking as flashbacks of what once happened between the two of you overwhelmed his mind.

Did he just kill you? Again?

He felt like he was starting to have a panic attack as Beel suddenly entered the kitchen.

“Belphie?” he questioned, not expecting his twin to be there. He was just trying to get his midnight snack.

“Beel - I think I…,” Belphie stated, frozen in shock.

Beel’s eyes widened as he saw your body on the ground and he immediately rushed over to you, placing his fingers on your neck to check for a pulse just like Satan had taught him.

When you could feel Beel’s shaky hands, you knew the prank might have gone a little too far and you gently grabbed his wrist and opened your eyes.

Beel and Belphie looked at you confused for a moment and then Belphie realized what happened.

He gave you the biggest death glare and you noticed the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

“Belphie-,” you began but he stormed off to sulk in the attic. You followed him, only to find the door shut. 

“Belphie, come on let me in,” you told him. You could see him lying on the bed, turned away from you.

“I opened this door once before, I’ll do it again if I really have to,” you added.

Belphie let out a sigh of frustration before getting up and opening the door.

You immediately pulled him into a hug as he did, wrapping your arms around his torso and his arms timidly wrapped around you as well.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, genuinely feeling bad for taking things so far.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he stated, hugging you tighter before pulling you over to the bed with him.

Your punishment was to spend the night with him so that you were there whenever he needed some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Despite his pranks and brattiness, Belphie really loved you and he couldn’t imagine what he would do without you.

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔.𝟐

SYNOPSIS: Your heart and mind remain in an agonising dissonance, and this time, you choose rationality over what your heart desires most, even if it is slowly killing you. But you have underestimated their determination in luring you back to them, which leads to you rebelling against your initial resolution as you fail to resist your darkest temptation. So when the tension finally snaps, you find yourself back to square one, and this time, you fear that there is no way out to elude their intoxicating, dark allure once more.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 20k

WARNINGS: profanities, explicit themes, angst, mention of violence, mention of death, alcohol consumption, mention of violence, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, smuts.

PLAYLIST: Touch It - Ariana Grande, everytime - Ariana Grande, Glad You Came - The Wanted, Come My Way - PLVTINUM, Breakin' Dishes - Rihanna, S&M - Rihanna, 2 On (feat.ScHoolboy Q), Lights Down Low - Maejor (feat. Waka Flocka Flame), Wet the Bed - Chris Brown, Candy - Doja Cat.

PREV (PART 6.1) | NEXT (PART 6.3) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), name calling, spitting kink, biting kink, degradation, manhandling, bondage (handcuffs), blowjobs, throat-fucking, fingering, nipple play, pussy slapping & eating, anal, double penetration, edging, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, threesomes, fivesomes kinda towards the end(?), MxM in action(mild).

The ray of moonlight filtering through your window casts a gentle radiance in the solitude of your room, enveloping you in a dim illumination as you are stagnantly seated on the edge of the bed, already having been promptly dressed up in a simple off-shoulder beige sweater complementing your dark chequered skirt.

Much to your disgruntlement, your best friends vehemently insist on bringing you out with them to have some drinks, and you recognise their intention of wanting to cheer you up upon noticing your disheartened spirit.

You hear the animated bustle of your best friends leaking through your ajar door, but you remain unmoving from your position with an air of pensiveness emanating from you as you grapple with emotions that have been in an unabating turbulence within you ever since you left the palace.

It has been two days since you last saw any of the guys, two days since you established your firm resolution to avoid the guys like the plague, including ignoring their persistent calls and texts, and thankfully they have never made any visits to your dorm. Even if they had, your best friends probably wouldn’t have allowed them to see even a glimpse of your face.

You know that you acted of your accord by fleeing them for the sake of your sanity, but at the same time, you hate it. You hate it that your heart aches tremendously from being apart from them for two long agonising days.

It is genuinely frustrating because instead of the distance giving you space to cogitate, it seems to be driving you to the brink of your sanity, especially when your mind and heart stand in juxtaposition, where one is rationalising you with a litany of reasons why you should depart from their lives permanently as soon as possible while the other unwaveringly yearns for them with a palpable vehemence for as long as it remains beating.

Adding to your predicament, questions have been gnawing on the walls of your mind and keeping you awake at night, rendering you restless rather than weary despite the scant amount of sleep. Questions that mainly centred around Jinae and her death.

Having gained knowledge about her death is not enough. You have a strong desire to unravel the explicit truth about her history with the guys, but the guys didn’t provide you the answers you sought the last time you saw them, and you have yet to ask your best friends considering you have been holed up in your room for most of the time to wallow in your thoughts and emotions.

Heaving a sigh, you decide to cease your rumination, but when your gaze lands on your phone next to you, an idea pops into your mind before you quickly grab your phone. Maybe the idea is preposterous after having been informed by Jake that it was highly possible that whoever the anonymous texter was was responsible for the incident, but desperation is gnawing at you.

With slightly trembling fingers, you begin to type away on your phone, your lips tucking between your teeth and your eyebrows furrowing.

Y/N: If you’re still there, I want answers about what happened three years ago.

After pressing send, you wait, and it’s not even a few minutes before you receive a reply.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I presume that it’s about Jinae. Since I’m feeling nice, I’ll indulge you, but before I proceed, are you sure you’re prepared? Because what I’m about to tell you depicts her death, as in how she died. Y/N: Considering what I’ve recently been through, yes, I’m prepared. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Since you obviously knew that your four beloved knights were responsible for her death, you should know that before they killed her, they took pictures and videos of her for the times she fucked around with them. Y/N: Was it consented? UNKNOWN NUMBER: No, and that’s not even the worst part. They uploaded those sex tapes to our official Devil’s Knights social media accounts across Instagram and Twitter. Jinae became a laughing stock on campus. Almost everyone, especially our own knights, dehumanised her at every chance they got.

A part of you refuses to believe him, but you can’t ignore the unpleasant churn in your tummy.

Y/N: My best friends told me that there were speculations going around on campus back then about Jinae doing something to piss off the four leaders greatly. UNKNOWN NUMBER: That’s correct. Y/N: So what did she do? UNKNOWN NUMBER: She did nothing, that’s the thing. All she ever wanted was to be loved, but her wanting that love ended up in their palace, where she was found dead in the bathroom. Her throat was slit open. Vulgar words were incised deep on the flesh on her thighs and arms. It was a bloody fucking mess.

“Oh my god.” You cover your gasping mouth with your trembling hand while your eyes glisten with tears, feeling utterly revolted at this discovery with horror plastering on your face. The four leaders did that to her? 

Before you can dwell and get pulled by the whirlpool of torrential emotions, you pour your focus on another matter that has piqued your curiosity just earlier.

Y/N: The way you spoke of her, it seemed like you knew her closely. UNKNOWN NUMBER: As a matter of fact, I did. Y/N: Who was she to you? UNKNOWN NUMBER: She was….someone who I cherished deeply.

Your curiosity has reached its peak, wondering what their relationship was, but the axis of your attention tilts when another matter arises, or rather, something that perhaps he unintentionally let slip.

Y/N: Earlier, you mentioned that they uploaded those sex tapes on your official Devil’s Knights social media accounts, and you said ‘our’. So does this mean that you’re a devil’s knight?

This time, however, he doesn’t reply straight away, which confirms your suspicion. Just as you are about to send him another message, you hear your name being called from outside your room.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Yunjin pushes open the door, and as expected from the fashionista of the group, she is dressed impeccably.

You offer her a tight smile in return as you rise from the bed and shove your phone into your sling purse. “Question: Do I really have to go?”

“Of course, you do.” Wonyoung waltzes into your room, her eyes scanning your overall fit in appreciation before she interlocks her arm with yours. “Besides, it isn’t healthy to be holed up in your room all day. You need some fresh air.”

“And some drinks.” Karina emerges from behind Yunjin. Her alluring eyes narrow at you just when you open your mouth to retort. “Be thankful that you get to even drink, whereas I, on the other hand, can’t since I'll be the one driving you a lot."

“I didn’t even say anything.” You murmur, making a face at Karina, before Wonyoung proceeds to drag you with her, trailing behind the other two.

All the while you’ve resorted to silence, your mind keeps drifting off to the messages earlier.

Out of all the bars, they chose to bring you to the very same bar where you had a rather interesting and salacious encounter with Sunghoon, and you swear it only feels like yesterday he was an insufferable asshole cornering you and trapping you in the gents washroom.

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you reminisce about him leaving his mark on you while you grind your core against his unabashedly before shaking your head at the recollection and taking aggressive sips of your cocktail, earning yourself odd stares from your best friends as they put a pause to their conversation.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Karina resumes, shifting your attention to her after spacing out in your own bubble. A grin smears across her scarlet lips. “Us seniors are invited to an exclusive yacht party hosted by the Devil's Knights tomorrow.”

“A yacht party? Sign me up.” Yunjin beams with a smile, raising her glass of margarita near her lips. “God, I’ve always wanted to go to a yacht party.”

“That sounds fun, but…” Wonyoung trails her gaze over to you, a glinting concern in her eyes as she examines the expression on your face. “Y/N, if you don’t want to go─”

“Are you kidding? No way am I going to miss out on a yacht party.” You are surprised at the conviction in your tone, and it is as though you have gained a newfound vitality, probably because of the cocktail.

The three ladies exchange a wary look of knowingness between each other before Yunjin decides to speak up, her voice carrying an air of cautiousness. “But it’s hosted by the Devil's Knights, which means the chances of you bumping into any of them are high.”

“So?” You shrug your shoulders, your mask of indifference obscures the incessant jittery and flutters in you. You place your now-empty glass on the marbled countertop. “I plan on avoiding them anyway. Besides, I’m not about to let them ruin my party spirit.”

Wonyoung heaves a sigh, conceding as she recognises the unyielding determination in your sharp eyes. “As long as you don’t force yourself into this.”

“Don’t worry. I genuinely want to attend and party with my girls.” You reassure her with a soft smile that seems to dispel her doubts. The smile on your lips falters as you feel abruptly compelled to open up another conversation. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you girls about this. Is it true that before Jinae died, the four leaders uploaded unconsented pictures and videos of her?”

The three ladies slowly nod their heads, casting shadows over their sombre features. Karina raises her eyebrow inquisitively at you. “How did you know? Did they tell you?”

“Sort of.” You lie through your teeth, looking down at your hands briefly. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s just─” A staggered sigh leaves your lips. “Everything is just so complicated. I want to find out more and get them to tell me the truth of their side of the story, but at the same time I don’t want to be around them any longer.”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Yunjin insists, but you still feel bad for dampening the lighthearted mood in the air around you.

You rise from your seat and cast them a tight smile. “You girls continue where you left off. I’m just going to take a breather outside.”

“Do you need me to come?” Wonyoung offers, almost getting ready to stand, but you stop her with a head shake, declining her offer.

“I need some time alone. Plus, you did tell me that getting fresh air is good for me.” You attempt to jest, adorning a lopsided smile, which seems to convince her, and so you begin to navigate your way around the bar.

As expected on a Friday night, the establishment is thronged with other customers, and unbeknownst to you, a certain someone, who has been watching you since the moment you huddled with your best friends at the back corner, follows you from behind.

The nightly breeze greets you as soon as you step out of the establishment. Ambling on the concrete pavement, you rub your cold hands together, your eyes staring into oblivion as your mind is finally free of muddling thoughts, or perhaps for a short-lasting moment, because not too long later, a familiar voice shatters the much-needed tranquilly.

“You should really be careful walking around alone at night.” His mellow voice prompts you to halt your steps while your heart nearly lurches in your chest.

When you turn around, you gasp softly, startled by the close proximity between you and him as you catch a strong whiff of his familiar cologne that has long since embedded itself in your mind.

He easily ensnares you just by his penetrating dark eyes, locking you in place, while you go slightly breathless at the gorgeous sight of him, bare of his signature cap that allows his magenta-red strands to fall over his brows and the black leather coat complementing his overall fit.

“Heeseung.” You breathe out, forgetting for a moment that you are supposed to keep your distance from him. You immediately compose yourself, narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion. “What are you doing here? And how did you know where I was?”

“The tracker Jake installed on your phone.” Heeseung answers calmly, ignoring the scoff of disbelief falling from your lips. “I’ve been following you and watching you from afar inside the bar.”

“So now you’re stalking me.” Sarcasm laces your tone. “Seriously, Heeseung. That’s creepy. Did you not hear the part where I said that we’re over the other day?”

Heeseung takes you by swift surprise as he closes the gap, causing you to back away from him while he is relentless with his dark eyes drilling into yours. “We’re not over, and we’re never over.” His low, husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

A whimper threatens to leave your lips, feeling greatly intimidated by his imposing figure as he unrelentingly backs you up until you hit the wall behind you. With his outstretched arm, he plants his palm next to your head, ensuring that there is no escape for you while the wall next to you completely hinders you from mapping other possible ways to evade him.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name shakily, and just like that, your resolve melts under the intensity of his handsome gaze while his strong cologne and the dark ambience he exudes overwhelm you. “Hee, please─”

“You told Sunghoon that you needed space, and we granted that. Two long fucking days.” Heeseung nearly growls out, his jaw clenching and his hot breath fanning just above your lips. “If this is your way of punishing us, then congrats, sweetheart, because you’ve successfully made me the most desperate man alive.”

The tension sizzling through the air around you is so close to snapping that you can feel it in your veins, especially when your eyes flicker down to his pink lips. Heeseung sees this — the look in your eyes yearns for him to kiss you — but he refrains from caving into the temptation, even when your glossed lips look kissable.

“Don’t torture us with your distance anymore, beloved.” His voice drops to a low husk, matching the way his dark allure is serenading you. “The guys missed you. I missed you.”

Your chin wobbles with sadness as you release a shaky sigh, your eyes glistening beautifully with tears under the moonlight cascading down on the secluded, desolate street. “I’m scared, Hee.” The raw vulnerability shines through in the soft manner in which you speak, admitting it to him with sincerity. You look away from his eyes, the tremor in your voice is palpable. “I’m scared of you.”

It is as though a searing stab of a knife plunges into his beating heart at your admission, causing his heart to ache tremendously while his flinty demeanour starts to mollify.

“What?” He whispers, horrified, before finding his voice again, and this time there is a discernible crack of emotion. “No, no, no, sweetheart─” He seems frantic, cradling your face with his callous palms while his eyes hold such desperation as you weakly attempt to push him away. “I’ve never wanted you to be afraid of me for the wrong reasons. Please don’t be afraid of me, beloved.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I don’t trust you?” You whimper, falling weaker against your resistance as you gradually melt into his touch.

“I would never hurt you. Never in a million years.” He states emphatically, his dark eyes displaying promises as he leans his forehead against yours. “Your life is precious to me, beloved. How could I live on if you were no longer there with me?”

“You could still live on because I’m not that special.” You counter, and your voice shakes with a bundle of emotions that threatens to implode. “You can easily have other girls─”

“But they’re not you.” Heeseung punctuates each word with vehemence, his lips now ghosting yours while you shiver at the contact of his cold metal lip ring grazing across your bottom lip, tempting you to close the gap. “I’ve given you my heart since I first saw you years ago, sweetheart. You own me, my body, my heart, and my fucking soul.” 

His confession is all it takes for you to cave into your temptation, and before you know it, you close the gap and press your lips into his. An electrifying sensation ignites in the fervent exchange of your kisses as he presses you up against the wall while his hand deftly grabs your thigh to raise it and hold it against his hip.

Your hands go winding in his hair, your fingers tugging and pulling at the strands as you are consumed by the fiery passion of his kisses, eliciting a breathy moan from him before the sound of low rumbles emits from his chest as he asserts dominance, deepening the kiss to the point where you can feel an indent caused by his lip ring. 

Heeseung thrusts his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch that he has missed and swallowing every moan emerging from your throat as you feel his prominent bulge pressing directly against the heat of your throbbing cunt.

“Hee.” You pant like a dog as soon as he pulls away, only to map his kisses down your skin while you arch your neck for him to gain better access. Your lidded eyes are threatening to close every now and then, while breathy moans leave your lips as he kisses and licks your sensitive spot.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, you have no idea.” He rasps against your sheeny skin due to his saliva. He trails his kisses upward and reclaims your lips in a searing kiss that has you grinding your cunt against his bulge. “I know, pretty.” He continues to murmur in between kisses, and his heart swells at the pretty mewls you release. “I know you’ve missed me too.”

The fear of anyone stumbling upon you two making out in the open has completely dissipated from your mind. You know that you have fallen deep when you decide to indulge the forbidden desire in the depths of your heart for this man once again. Maybe there really is no escape from this — from him, from them.

After what feels like eternity, Heeseung pulls away from the mind-blowing kiss, much to your disappointment. The swollenness of his pink lips matches yours as you gaze at him with dazed eyes, breathing so raggedly from the intense passion of your kisses that you didn’t think you would need air at all. Just his lips.

Heeseung sighs, bringing his hand to cradle your face. His touch is a familiar reverence that aches yearningly in your heart, as does his gaze. “There’s another reason why I followed and watched you.” His tongue glides across his moist lips. “I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you when you were kidnapped that night. It’s the reason why I needed to make sure you’re always on our radar.”

You look away from him, feeling the loss of his defeated touch on your face at the apparent detachment in the way you are being. You are caught up in a vindictive whirlwind of emotions once more, but without a doubt, you can’t deny that his words impact you.

You release a sigh, still not looking at him, as you prepare yourself to head back into the bar to find your best friends. “I should go.” You utter dryly before brushing past him.

“Wait.” Heeseung stops you as his hand latches on your wrist, prompting you to look over his shoulder. “Go on a ride with me.”

Hesitation flickers in your gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You murmur.

“Please, sweetheart? Just this one night.” Heeseung’s desperation in wanting to keep you close to him shines through in the way he has been pleading in one night, which is fucking ridiculous to him as he has never plead to any girl, but you are undeniably his biggest weakness.

Receiving your silence, Heeseung gently pulls you closer and raises your hand to place a tender kiss on your palm while your heart swells at his familiar gesture of affection. “I'll bring you back to your dorm after that. Just for tonight, trust me, please?”

“Okay.” You acquiesce softly, ignoring your rationality in pushing him away, but just one night won’t hurt you enough to cave into your yearning.

Not long later, you find yourself seated behind him on his thunderous, sleek motorbike, riding against the cold, vindictive wind with your arms wrapped around his waist as he picks up the velocity. Just like that, all your problems are ensnared in the wind as you bask in the familiarity of your closeness with him.

Three hours of the road journey to the marina granted you sufficient sleep in the car after having been sleep deprived for the past few days, but even in your slumber, the memory of Heeseung’s touch, lips, and warmth that cascaded over you last night arose in your mind. No words were exchanged even when he kept his promise and dropped you off at your dormitory, only his lingering stare on your elusive demeanour when you finally drifted away from him.

Refusing to dwell on last night any longer, you shift your attention, and this time, any worries or distress dissipate as your eyes take in the magnificent sight of four mega-luxurious yachts docked at the marina with the azure ocean glistering under the sun rays cascading down from the celestial firmament.

It is all simply breathtaking, rendering you awestruck as you remain cemented in your spot, drawing amused attention from your inner circle group of people that have wholeheartedly welcome you back upon seeing your sparkling eyes and your agape mouth as you are still staring at the panoramic view.

“Y/N! Come on!” Winter’s calling pulls you out of the trance, and when you finally look at them and heed your surroundings, you spot other seniors of your batch splitting in random groups as they board the awaiting yachts, although not all of the seniors are present.

“So how do we know which yacht we’re supposed to board?” You inquire as soon as you manage to catch up with your girls, huddling in groups as you make your way to the docks.

“Good question.” Karina muses, her eyes darting to the knights stationed by the docks, as they seem to be guiding and assisting the guests. “Let me ask one of them.”

“Maybe it’s up to us which yacht we want to board.” Chaewon voices out, earning a few hums of agreement from the rest of the girls.

You scratch your non-itchy scalp as the contortion on your face twists with uncertainty. “Just to be safe, let’s just ask the knights─” A shadow looms over yours from behind, prompting the girls to look at the tall male.

“Actually, Chaewon’s right. You can choose the yachts of your liking, but better be quick because we’ll be departing from the marina soon.”

For some reason, his voice greatly startles you, causing your heart to lurch in your chest before you turn around to look at him. Beomgyu looks as charming as ever with the dazzling smile on his fine countenance. His onyx hair looks shorter than the last time you ever saw him.

“Awesome!” Your girls begin to erupt into excitement as they promptly discuss amongst each other whether to be separated or not since not all of them want to board the yacht, which differs from the other’s choice.

Upon noticing your eyes fixated on his face and your oddly resounding silence, Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, and it takes everything in you to refrain from flinching despite the warmth of his dark brown eyes gleaming with kindness, which is completely perplexing because why does your stomach churn unpleasantly being in his vicinity when he did nothing but show kindness to you?

“It’s been a while, Y/N.” Beomgyu strikes up a friendly conversation with you while your intuition is telling you to move out of his vicinity, especially in the way his eyes rake all over your body as you are adorned in a short sundress. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” You reciprocate, adorning an awkward smile on your glossed lips as you begin to discreetly shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Hearing the drifting commotion of your girls, you clear your throat, looking away from him. “I’m just going to follow them─”

“Y/N, wait.” Beomgyu stops you, his touch on your skin as he grabs your wrist sends you a jolting sensation that intensifies the churn in your tummy. When you look at him with curious eyes, you notice something shifts in his demeanour — a fleeting of passing darkness that sends alarming signals to your brain.

Just when Beomgyu decides to speak, Soobin emerges from behind him and drapes his arm around Beomgyu’s shoulder lazily. “We’ve been waiting for your ass to board. What’s the hold-up?” Soobin doesn’t seem to notice you yet, or maybe he simply disregards your existence, but nevertheless, you are thankful for his intervention.

“Just catching up with the lovely Y/N Kang.” Beomgyu tells him, his eyes never straying from your delicate features. His statement finally draws Soobin’s attention to you just as you are about to head over to your girls.

“Y/N! Good to see you alive and well.” Soobin acknowledges you, a smirk smearing across his lips, while something in the way he is eyeing you unnerves you. Above all, you can’t help but discern a double meaning in his words. “Do enjoy the party. Just be careful of the sharks if you ever fall into the ocean.”

You frown at his snarky remark that oozes wicked sarcasm. “Thanks for the advice?”

Beomgyu seems dissatisfied with the way he smacks his best friend in the back of his head before shooting you an apologetic smile and dragging Soobin with him, heading over to the second yacht.

Ignoring the fact that you feel disturbingly weirded out by them, you proceed to head over to the girls, having been informed by Wonyoung that they’ll be splitting up into two groups, and not moments later, you finally boarded the fourth yacht, squeezing your way through the throng of people and eventually losing sight of your girls.

The instant the yacht makes its first departure from the dock, you lose momentum in your balance due to the yacht in motion, and the abrupt shove from someone behind you sends you tumbling forward.

You snap your eyes close as you brace yourself for the impact, but nothing comes. Instead, a pair of strong arms wrap around your unbalanced figure, holding you steady while you are staggered into shock as the familiar cologne infiltrates your senses. You had been hoping that you wouldn’t bump into any one of them sooner.

“Lovely.” His concerned voice prompts you to recover as you slowly lock eyes with him, and from your peripheral vision, it seems that the others in your vicinity pay no mind to you while you remain unmoving from his embrace. His warm brown eyes soften as he scans you. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

Although you have heard the familiar endearment from Heeseung countless times, to hear from him sends a jarring sensation through you while incessant butterflies are in their wake. Your eyes betray you when they rake over his appearance, while warmth weaves across your rosy cheeks.

The button-down printed blouse draping his physique allows a sneaking peek of his toned chest, and the snake tattoo is inked on his right collarbone, while a chain necklace is hooked around his neck. His dark hair is tied back into a man-bun with a few long strands hanging by the sides of his face frame, and this new look of his arouses something so familiar in you. God, does he look so deliciously handsome.

“I-I’m fine.” You stammer, flustered by the mixed emotions pouring down on you, and the arousing lust in your core just by the mere sight of him feels so profound that you wish to whisk him away from here and for him to fuck you good.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a frown adorning his pink plump lips, that you so badly want to kiss. He scans his surroundings while still holding you close. “It’s getting crowded here. We can head down to the basement or the second floor if you want.”

Just before you can give him your answer, the recollection of how uncharacteristically rough he was back at the church, as does the other night where he displayed his callousness towards you, impels you to evade his embrace, and the hurt flashing in your eyes just briefly captures his keen attention before you look away from him.

“I’m fine going without you. Besides, I’ll be searching for my friends as well.” You mutter dryly, preparing to flee from him, but he prevents you from doing so when his hand latches on your wrist before pulling you with him. “Jaeyun!”

Jake ignores your disbelieving call as he continues to haul you towards the flight of stairs that leads to the second floor, and in the midst of it, you manage to catch sight of Wonyoung, Yunjin, and Karina in their socialite element, mingling around with the other guests amiably before you avert your gaze as Jake guides you to the second floor, and just when you think he is done, he pulls you with him towards another flight of stairs.

A whine escapes you before you can control yourself, panting slightly from having to climb up the stairs. “Jaeyun!” It seems that he notices your exhaustion, because the next thing you know, he carries you in a bridal style with ease while you let out a surprised yelp.

“Where are we even going?” You ask, completely bewildered by his moves. Jake takes a side glance at your scowling face fleetingly before refocusing on climbing these stairs, his arms encircling your body protectively. 

“To the top.” His answer doesn’t satisfy you, but nevertheless, you succumb to defeat, relaxing your taut body in his warm embrace that feels uncannily like home to you while your fingers fiddle with the sling of your purse.

As soon as you reach the top, you hear distinctive commotions around you, prompting you to catch sight of the other three yachts that are in the same motion as the yacht you are on. Jake carefully sets you down to your feet, whereas you become distracted by the breathtaking panorama of the ocean and the cerulean skies that remind you of those beautiful masterpieces of painted canvas. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jake speaks up, his enamoured eyes never leaving your awestruck face, and no doubt his remark is directed at you, because fuck, you are glowing as the sun rays bathe you while the wind in your hair moves in a wavy motion, adding a more cinematic beauty to you.

But when you finally divert your attention to him, he frowns at the familiar hurt glinting in your eyes, which he saw earlier. Whatever he did wrong, he intends to fix it.

“So that’s about it, right?” You quip, looking away from him. “Thanks for bringing me up here when I never asked, but I’ll get going now.”

Having already predicted your moves, Jake deftly blocks your way with his figure, completely undeterred by your glaring eyes at him. “Tell me what I did wrong. Let me fix it.” The resolution is accentuated in his warm brown eyes, which you have grown to love whenever he stares at you, either fondly or intensely with lust.

“I don’t want to do this with you, Jaeyun.” You say, and you can feel yourself going weaker the longer his eyes bore into you with an intense longing. “I’m here to have fun with my best friends, and I won’t allow any of you to ruin that.”

Jake blocks your way again, eliciting an irritated sigh from you, but he cuts you off, throwing you off guard by the stark desperation in his demeanour. “And I’m here to fix what I broke. I can’t delay this any longer, so please, sweetheart.” He lowers the pitch of his voice as he steps closer to you. “Tell me, what can I do for you to return to me?”

You clench your fist, refraining yourself from being persuaded by the emotions swimming in his eyes, looking at you as if you’re his whole world. “You can start off by giving me space.” You immediately brush past him, but Jake is not having any of that, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back at him.

“I’ve given you enough fucking space, and you have no idea how close I was to going insane over your absence.” Jake’s eyes burn into yours, deflating you completely. His grasp on you feels firmer, but not enough to hurt you. “Please, sweetheart, you’re killing me with your detachment.”

You look away from him, not wanting him to see the tears glistening in your eyes that derive from the ache in your bleeding heart at the palpable desperation in the tremor of his voice. “I hate it.” You whisper, laying your vulnerability bare in his eyes.

“Tell me.” He says firmly, pulling you close with your clenched fist now in contact with his toned chest. Upon your persisting avoidance, he seizes your chin, gently turning your head to face him while the intensity of his gaze softens at your glistening eyes. 

“Hit me, bruise me, I don’t care. Be mad at me at a shorter distance where I can see you. Just don’t shut me out and leave me again. I─” His voice shakes while the fear of abandonment that instilled in him morphs into pain in his eyes. He interlaces your fingers with his before kissing the back of your hand. “I can’t imagine my future without you in it, love.”

The mental restraint you forced upon yourself finally implodes, springing more tears to your eyes as his words leave an impact so profound on you. “I hate that I can’t predict you. You’re sweet and gentle for one moment, but the next, you’re the opposite. I don’t know which version of you is true, Jae.” Your voice shakes as you confess. “The day at the church, you fucked me like you were really punishing me, and you even called me your well-trained slut like you meant it.”

You cut him off just when he opens his mouth, needing him to hear what you have been keeping inside ever since while a fallen tear escapes the corner of your eye. “You’ve never called me such names whenever we had sex, and my Jaeyun would never call me his slut like he meant it.” You force a whimper down in your throat. “My sweet Jaeyun. Right now, I don’t know which Jaeyun you are.”

“I’m right here, love. I’ve never left.” Jake reassures you frantically, his palms cradling your face as you shake your head, refusing to believe him. He closes the gap between your faces until his nose grazes against yours affectionately, while his breath fans above your upper lip as he pleads softly. “Please, sweetheart, I’m still your sweet Jaeyun.”

“Prove it.” You demand in a whisper, feeling lightheaded by the close proximity. You can see it in his eyes as your words ignite something ablaze in him. You allow your lips to brush lightly against his as you whisper, “If you’re still my sweet Jaeyun, you gotta prove─”

Jake silences you with his lips pressing into yours hard while his arm cages around your waist, pulling your body closer to his, and the other cradling the back of your head with a familiar reverence. You melt like butter in the familiarity of his warm embrace at the exchange of your fervent kisses.

Your arms slither their way to his shoulder before draping them lazily, and without breaking the lip lock, he manoeuvres you to the velvety couch in a swift motion with your back pressed down on the cushion as he hovers over you.

“Please don’t hate me.” He murmurs against your parted lips, nearly whimpering out, which has your heart clenching. “I can’t bear the thought of you hating me, love. Don’t hate me anymore, please.” He reclaims your lips in a searing kiss, poking his tongue into you before you wholeheartedly welcome him, allowing him to claim every inch of you.

“Jaeyun.” You gasp for air as soon as he pulls away and maps his kisses down to your neck while you instinctively arch your back, rolling your eyes to the back and panting heavily as his lips on your skin feel scorching. “We should stop. Someone might come up and see us.” You manage to utter out before nearly moaning out at the sensation of his teeth sinking into the sensitive spot on your neck.

Despite his strong libido to take you right here and now, Jake concedes, as he doesn’t wish to displease you, and so he detaches his lips from your skin only to slot them over yours, giving you a lingering kiss that reflects the depths of his feelings for you.

Knowing that you need to gasp for air again, Jake pulls away from you just enough for his lips to ghost yours, his eyes fluttering open to gaze deeply into your nearly blown-out pupils as you breathe heavily.

“I promise I won’t do what you hate anymore.” He murmurs, hovering his lips over to press a deep kiss on your cheek before he decides to lean his weight on your body while being careful enough not to suffocate you. “I’ll be gentle and sweet.”

Your heart flutters at the sensation of his thumb stroking your cheek with affection. “You can be rough with me, but just don’t call me names like that again.” You say softly, melting on the inside with the utter adoration in his warm brown eyes that are boring into yours.

Jake raises his eyebrow inquisitively. “So the others are allowed to call you names except me?”

“They’re…different, just as you are.” You lean further into his touch, adorning a smile so sweet that it tempts him to kiss the dimple on your cheek. You pat his cheek gently. “Because you’re my sweet Jaeyun.”

Jake unfurls a soft yet wolfish grin that accentuates his charming countenance, having grown addicted to and loving the way you call him yours. He grabs your hand to place a kiss on your palm, his adoring eyes never leaving yours. “I am your sweet Jaeyun. Yours forever.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after the unanticipated event that transpired earlier with Jake, and that grants you the freedom to enjoy the rest of the party without another pending problem adding weight to your strained, distressing mind.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the endearing pout on Jake’s lips when you decided to cease your prolonged make-out session to find your best friends and the fact that anyone could have stumbled upon you at any moment of time unannounced. Nevertheless, you parted ways with him, especially since the other knights were looking for him.

The boisterous commotion from the riotous guests shatters your reverie, prompting you to trail your gaze to the impressive inflatable water slides, which the professional crew members at each yacht have diligently set up not too long ago, and catch sight of your fellow senior guests in their swimming attires as they engage themselves in the luxurious entertainment that the devil’s knights have offered.

Heck, you are even flabbergasted when you have been informed by Jake earlier that just below each yacht’s basement is stored with a few jet skis, which you didn’t really believe until you finally see them for yourself as you now spot recognisable knights riding the jet skis along the ocean with zeal.

Presently, all four yachts are berthed adjacently with the main deck facing each other, which enables the guests’ liberties to pursue whatever they want, be it to dive into the ocean and swim with the others or even head over to each dock and socialise with the other guests. Considering this is your first time ever attending a yacht party, it has completely exceeded your expectations.

“Y/N! Let’s go!” Winter, whose exuberance you have dearly missed, calls out for you over the booming speaker that is playing a felicitous song to enliven the vibrancy teeming in the atmosphere. 

You look over to her, spotting some of the other girls along with her, all of whom are adorned in distinct bikinis, prompting you to look down at yours. Much to your surprise, you were willing to display yourself in a cute pink floral bikini set just when Karina and Yunjin dragged you into one of the guest rooms here with the intention of persuading you to join the watersports fun. You refuse to hold yourself back from anything today, even when there are lingering doubts in your head. You deserve to have fun after the shit you've been through.

Chugging down on your fruit punch, you toss the red plastic cup in the trash and meander your way to your friends by the stairs before they proceed to head to the second floor with you trailing behind them. You have no idea what they want to do, but you decide to go with the flow.

“Don’t forget to wear your life jackets for those who can’t swim.” As expected from the mother of the group, Wonyoung reminds the group as she busily fastens the life jacket around her petite form. Looking over to you, her eyebrows furrow. “Y/N, you don’t need one?”

You shake your head, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m good. I can swim.” Or at least you hope, but it isn’t entirely a lie. Your father used to bring you out for swimming, and he was the one who taught you. Just the thought of your father causes your heart to ache.

It isn’t long later, after queuing for the slide, that you, Winter, and Wonyoung decide to go together. Your heart races in anticipation before you finally glide down with the adrenaline rushing through you, while your ear nearly goes deaf by the splitting, high-pitched screams from Winter and Wonyoung as the three of you are being thrust into the air.

You hold your breath just in time when you plunge into the water, and the impact causes you to submerge a little deeper before you put your rusty skills to use as you swim back up to the surface. As you manage to stay afloat, cheers from your fellow guests reach your ears, probably due to you and your friends’ performances.

As you have every intention to swim towards the main deck, you hear a raucous motor engine approaching from behind you, to which you dismiss since it’s normal for other jet skiers to go about here, but when the vehicle stops directly next to you, you slowly turn around only for your heart to pound harder at the sight of Sunghoon looking down at you with inexplicable emotions in his dark eyes.

Silence befalls you as you stare at him with unwavering eye contact while your insides are tumult by the palpable tension in the air. You take this moment to take in his mouth-watering appearance, donning a white sleeveless tank top that displays his ripped muscles for your eyes to feast upon.

“Need a ride, princess?” Sunghoon asks as he snaps you out of the trance. His hand is extended towards you while you take note of his oddly neutral tone, which renders you sceptical, considering that you left him while he was asleep the last time.

Nevertheless, you accept his offer as you latch your hand on his, only for him to clutch your hand securely and assist in hauling you from the water with ease, his biceps muscles flexing, before you finally settle seated behind him.

“Hold on tight to me.” Sunghoon says over his shoulder, to which you barely register his words in your head when he abruptly picks up the velocity of the jet ski, eliciting a squeal from you and prompting you to latch your arms around his body.

“Park Sunghoon!” You scream over the raucous motor engine, looking over his shoulder to see where he is heading as you are getting further away from the yachts. “Where are you bringing me?!”

“To feed you to the sharks, of course.” Sunghoon tells you bluntly, and you gasp in disbelief at his seemingly serious remark before he breaks into a breathy chuckle, melting the prior icy demeanour. “I’m kidding, princess. I’m just driving you around. Besides, you haven’t seen my drifting skills yet.”

“What─Sunghoon!” A scream tears from your throat as he throws you off guard, quite literally, that nearly has you falling off the jet ski when he does an abrupt drift, prompting you to tighten your arms around his body.

“I told you to hold onto me tight!” He raises his voice for you to hear him better against the vindictive wind, and when he revs forward, you yelp out, your face colliding into his back.

“Slow down!” You exclaim in a squeak, and yet the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins only seems to intensify at the velocity of his jet ski as you hear the other jet skiers in the background around you.

“There’s no slowing down, princess.” Sunghoon briefly looks over his shoulder for you to catch a glimpse of the suggestive smirk on his lips.

Any resistance or fear in you dissipates as you eventually find yourself enjoying this more than you should, now with a gleeful smile glowing in your countenance that is accompanied by the infectious laughter emitting from you, which affects Sunghoon as he laughs along with you.

Maybe it won’t hurt for you to revel in this euphoric moment with him, even when you know that there is still a palpable strain between you and him.

Time flies fast as the effervescent element encompassing the entirety of the festivity has completely ensnared you, and before you know it, the sun is making its descent, creating a soft, warm radiance that bathes the landscape in a golden glow and gradually painting the empyrean a gorgeous shade of purple.

Despite the dawning twilight across the horizon, the party doesn’t seem to stop any time soon, while the prevalent ambience across the four yachts is pulsating with vigorous exuberance that emanates from the partygoers, including you.

You feel inclined to admit that this has got to be the best party you have ever attended. You have long since revelled in the luxurious entertainment offered by the knights.

After the wild ride on a jet ski with Sunghoon earlier, he dropped you off at the yacht you were originally from only for you to play the water slide with your friends and dive into the ocean one or two many times, and you even participated in the banana boat activity alongside other seniors, whom you surprisingly managed to get along with. Maybe it was because you were enjoying yourself too much until your stomach began to grumble, but the platters of food they served were so delectable that you even generously got yourself another plate or two.

But then, the familiar faces of specific individuals pop into your head, nearly subduing your effervescent essence, prompting your eyes to sweep with purpose across the throng of people in the spacious vicinity you are in, searching for them.

Obviously, you have been with Jake and Sunghoon rather intimately, but they were beyond your reach as they socialised with the others, seeming to provide you with space. You saw Heeseung earlier when Sunghoon drove past the first yacht, only getting a glimpse of his face, whereas Jay has yet to appear in your line of sight.

Biting down your lip, you shake your head lightly at the thought of them before resuming where you left off, regaining your faltered vitality. Presently, you and your friends are mingling and dancing on the dance floor with the music blasting from the speakers.

Your faces are glowing with jubilation, and giggles and chatter are teeming in the overflowing vibrancy as you dance silly with your friends and other partygoers. The dampness of your hair has been desiccated by the heat of the air while you are still adorned in your bikini, just like most of the other ladies here.

You have long since felt comfortable in your own skin, which is starkly displayed. Plus, you even received compliments from your friends and the other ladies about your look, which elevated your self-confidence, while you simply dismissed the lewd whistles and lecherous gazes from most of the knights. You were not about to allow anyone to ruin your day.

“Anyone needs help to throw away their cups?” Rei directs her offers to you and your girls, putting a pause on your frolic. When you look at Rei, you notice the grimace on her face. “I gotta head to the washroom. I feel a little nauseated.” She informs you.

“Count me in. I think I’m gonna throw up.” Chaewon covers her mouth with her palm before brushing past you speedily, not waiting for the other girls as they stack their cups on top of each other with Rei’s assistance before Kazuha and Winter follow after Chaewon.

“Y/N?” Yunjin stares at you just as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, while the other is holding the red cup languidly. “Your drink?”

You shake your head before casting her a boozy grin, to which they recognise that you are inebriated. “I’m fine. Just gotta─” A hiccup leaves your lips, and you nearly tumble forward if it weren’t for Wonyoung’s arms steadying you. “Gotta dance! And drink─” You slowly push Wonyoung away before bringing the cup to your lips and tossing your head back as you down the vodka in one go.

“You’re drunk.” Karina points out, but even she is just as inebriated as you, evident in the way she giggles as she pinches your cheeks languidly.

“I wanna pinch her cheeks too!” Wonyoung joins, swatting Karina’s hands away from you while the latter attempts to counterattack. “Go away! You’re drunk too!”

“The three of you are drunk.” Yunjin, the one who has the highest alcohol tolerance in the group, steps forward and latches her hands on both Wonyoung and Karina to pull them away from you. “Let’s get you two sober. Y/N─”

“I’m totally fine! I swear!” You bat your eyelashes at Yunjin as she narrows her eyes at you with scepticism. You attempt to convince her by dancing lightly to the music. “See? I still have some dance left in me!”

“Just don’t throw yourself off into the ocean and drown yourself.” Yunjin tells you sternly before dragging Wonyoung and Karina away from the animated dance floor, leaving you alone to revel in the intoxicating abysmal.

The empty cup eventually slips off your grasp as you succumb to the euphoria, the addictive rhythm pulsating through your body as it influences the alluring sway of yours that has long since captivated four pairs of eyes burning into your figure in the background away from the dance floor.

Unbeknownst to you, one of them meanders his way to the siren calling that exudes from your bewitching ambience, completely enamoured by you as you revel in the intoxicating abysmal with your head tilted up and an irresistible smile on your face cast by the resplendent LED across the dance floor.

Just when you are about to flaunt your moves, you feel a pair of hands holding your hips from behind, causing your heart to lurch in your chest at the uncanny familiarity of his callous palms, but you refuse to lose momentum, dancing along to the supposedly stranger behind you.

You feel his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe, tickling you, while his tattooed hand slithers forward to caress your abdomen sensually. “Nice moves, baby.” His husky voice is laden with desire as you leisurely lean back to grind your body against him, eliciting a low grunt from him with each intentional bump where your ass meets his bulge. “Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’ll have to drag you away and finish what you started.”

You slowly falter, but only to look over your shoulder to meet his eyes that darken with danger and lust, both coalescing into a raw, predacious hunger as you don’t relent from grinding back against his erection. His eyes greedily soak in the image of your erotic beauty under this luminescence.

In return, you beguile him with a simper smile. “You might want to control your erection, Mister Park. You wouldn't want these people to know that you’re shamelessly getting a hard-on from the renowned Catholic girl, would you now?” You ask in a sultry whisper, your tantalising touch on his skin as you caress his chiselled cheekbone ignites something so primal in him.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system that influences your every action, but you feel oddly pleased by the obvious lack of restraint in the low rumble from him while the tenacity in his hold on your body hinders you from your next move of eluding him, which now brings discontent to you.

You huff in annoyance after your second failed attempt to escape his grasp. “Jay─”

“Don’t delude yourself, sweet angel. You? The Catholic girl?” Jay chuckles darkly while your eyes widen in panic when his fingers tantalisingly caress down your sternum and all the way until he cups your clothed mount, eliciting a startled gasp from you. “The only Catholic thing about you is worshipping my cock with your every hole, like the good girl you are for me.”

Feeling self-conscious of your surroundings, you take a quick glance just to notice these partygoers are either completely drunk or simply minding their business to pay attention to you. Still, the risk of a pair of eyes seeing you and Jay right now is high, causing your mind to erupt into panic and chaos as you struggle languidly against him.

“Jay, they might see us─” A soft gasp leaves your lips when Jay squeezes your mount. His fingers explicitly apply pressure to your throbbing clit, eliciting a breathy moan from you before you can even stop yourself.

Jay scoffs lowly beside your ear, intentionally pressing his fingers to your clit again, this time in a subtle massaging motion, igniting the unbearable heat in your core. “It looks like I’m not the only one getting turned on, and you call yourself the Catholic girl?”

With the alcohol in its course through your system, which melds with an avid libido, it is inevitable for the stimulation of your arousal to become tenfold as it intensifies in your core by his mere ministration. “Jay.” You breathe out his name in between straining moans as you lean your head back on his shoulder, gasping. “Jay─We can’t─please─”

“Look at you, my sweet angel, or rather, my sweet little devil. You’re already falling apart just with my fingers.” Jay purrs in your ear, nipping the shell of your earlobe sensually before he roughly seizes your chin to control you as he directs your attention to the front view. “It looks like someone else wants to get their hands on you too.”

In an instant, your eyes lock with a pair of familiar ones from afar, but the sheer intensity forms an impalpable connection between you and him. A gasp hitches in your throat as you see the way he rakes all over your body, feeling as though he is shredding the fabric pieces that cover your womanhood just by his dark, invasive eyes.

“What do you think, baby? Should I tell Heeseung to come over and let him touch you like I do now as you come undone here?” Jay’s voice continues to drip with mockery while his fingers don’t relent from the ministrations on your clit. Jay catches Heeseung’s eyes fleetingly, and it’s enough for the latter to understand his unspoken invitation, drawing a smirk on Jay’s lips. “Yeah, I should.”

It is rather baffling to you, unable to discern whether or not the adrenaline rush in your veins has been incited by the unbridled lust in you or just plain trepidation that impels you to break free from Jay’s unyielding hold.

You don’t know what boosts your confidence in evading him, but you fail to heed in the direction you intended, because the next thing you know, your forehead collides into a solid chest, prompting you to look up at him with your eyes widened. 

“Heeseung.” You stammer, instinctively backing away from him. His figure is imposing as he relentlessly advances forward, while the predatorial glinting in his eyes, which is illuminated by the lighting around you, sends shivers down your spine. “Seungie, wait─”

“Oh, I’ve waited long enough.” Heeseung’s mellow voice is a deception you recognise that aligns with the soft smirk unfurling on his lips, which is adorned with the familiar silver ring. “If you thought last night was enough for me, then you’re mistaken. I’m never going to get enough of you, beloved.”

Your mind is in a tumult when Jay reigns dominance over you, his chest pressing against your back while his hands seize control over yours. You shudder as his hot breath tickles your skin when he dips his head down next to your ear. “How dare you leave me high and dry just like that, baby?”

Your head throbs with the booming music and the close proximity of being nearly sandwiched between two hot men who are the only ones who can intoxicate you in unfathomable ways, be it with their scent, their touch, their lips, or just everything about them.

“Come on, sweetheart. Dance with us. Show us your moves like you did earlier, pretty girl.” Heeseung places his hands on your hips, coercing them to sway under his scorching touch, and soon enough, you begin to retain the momentum that has long since felt natural in the flow of your body.

On the other hand, Jay distracts you with his lips kissing your shoulder and his hand guiding yours to raise them, which your fingers instinctively rake through his raven locks. “Jay.” You sigh pleasurably as he trails wet kisses across your shoulder until he reaches your neck, but you remain gazing at Heeseung’s dark eyes with hooded lids.

“Fuck, you sound so perfect saying my name like that.” Jay rasps against your skin before resuming his assault on the side of your neck while multitasking in the way he moves to the rhythm in sync with your body. 

Leaning back as you go lax between them, the way your back is arched entices Heeseung to lean down and press a kiss on your sternum before lowering himself to dip his tongue in the hollow of your cleavage to lick a long stripe of your skin and over to the supple of your nearly exposed breast.

“Hee, Jay.” Your moan goes straight to their cocks beneath the slacks. Your other hand makes its ascent to Heeseung’s hair, tugging at it softly. Before you fall deeper into this intoxication, you become self-conscious as you suddenly remember that you are still out in the open. “The others will see us like this.” 

“They wouldn’t.” Jay murmurs, nipping at your shoulder, which has you gasping at the prickling pain from his teeth.

You whimper. “But─”

“They wouldn’t dare to, even if they wanted.” Heeseung nearly growls out, the vibration from his lips to your skin, as does his lust-laden voice, sends pleasurable shivers through your body.

Miraculously, the partygoers in your vicinity are still oblivious to your licentious engagement with them, too caught up in the frenetic dancing while others are brazenly making out with their hands all over each other.

“Relax, baby.” Jay soothes you, his fingers stroking your inner thigh are dangerously close to your mount. “Let us take care of you. Let us make you feel good.”

Heeseung seizes your chin to tilt your head up before he leans down to assault the side of your neck with his kisses, while Jay dominates the other side with his. The sensation of their lips and teeth grazing on your skin has you rolling your eyes to the back while their hands are running all over your body, euphoria pulsating through your body in an indescribable pleasure. 

Truly, you wish this euphoric moment to last for an eternity, but a disruption from one of the knights interrupts your lascivious engagement, much to your disappointment.

Heeseung presses one last wet kiss on the hollow of your throat before pulling away just slightly and looking over his shoulder while his arm never leaves your waist. “What?” Heeseung’s low growl as he directs his attention to the knight goes straight to your throbbing yet neglected cunt. “Can’t you see that I’m fucking busy with my woman?”

The knight, whom you don’t seem to remember his name due to your hazy mind from what happened moments before this, is nearly deflated by Heeseung’s overpowering austerity before he regains composure. “A brawl broke out at the third-second yacht. It’s getting bloody nasty.”

“Tell Sunghoon or Jake to handle it, and if my knights are competent enough, surely they can handle the situation without needing any of our assistance.” Heeseung’s voice is laced with a vehemence of frustration, and instinctively, your fingers resume massaging his scalp and tugging the strands softly, which seems to be working as his taut shoulders go relaxed.

The knight releases a sigh. “We couldn’t find Sunghoon anywhere, and Jake is currently helping out the others to stop the brawl, but he needs some extra hands.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue in annoyance, slowly releasing his arm from you, whereas you frown at the loss of his touch and body heat as he steps away from you. His full attention is on the knight instead. “Lead the fucking way, then.”

You watch as Heeseung walks away until his figure is obscured by the throng of people ahead of you. Jay’s touch on your hips draws your attention to him as he kisses your shoulder affectionately. “I’m here, baby. I’ll entertain you instead.”

It is as if something has flipped the button in your head, or maybe a part of you desires to play hard to get, especially when you are supposed to be mad at him, though your anger has been subdued by the prior addictive kisses from his lips on your skin, because your next move throws him off guard as you break free from his grasp once more.

You turn around to face him, your facade is a deceptive front, while beneath it is someone who is shaken up by the glinting danger in his dark eyes. “Angel, what do you think you’re doing?” Jay asks lowly, taking a step closer, but you take a huge step back.

“I’m still mad at you.” You tell him, folding your arms together and positioning them underneath your hanging breasts. “You didn’t think I had forgotten that you were also involved in taking those unconsented pictures of me, did you?” 

Jay seems frustrated with the distance you established. “Baby─”

You cut him off with a scoff, your eyes turn icy cold, or at least you try to deceive him with your outward appearance that doesn’t match the emotions dancing in you. “Forget it. I hope you’re happy and satisfied when you jerk off to them.”

Before Jay can reach out to grab you, you elude him by bolting your way in the other direction, pushing past the sweaty bodies in motion. Truth be told, you are not as mad at him as the other night, not anymore, but it is rather amusing to see him taken aback by your turnover attitude.

As soon as you nearly reach the stairs, which lead to the basement where deluxe rooms are situated, you look over your shoulder briefly just in time to spot Jay brushing past a couple before his eyes meet yours, obviously chasing after you.

You quickly descend the stairs, and all the while, you can’t help it with the wickedness in you that revels in the chase as a soft smirk adorns your lips. Adrenaline rushes through you upon hearing his thunderous footsteps from behind, spurring you to pick up the pace as you bite down your lip, enjoying this more than you should.

Just as you turn to the right corner, your forehead collides into a solid chest, eliciting a wince from you at the impact. When you look up, your eyes widen at the sight of a frowning Sunghoon as he stares down at you with fleeting confusion.

“Princess? What are you─” Sunghoon’s words trail off into oblivion when he looks past you, noticing his best friend with intense frustration written across his features as he storms towards you.

“Don’t let her escape and bring her into my room.” Jay instructs his best friend with a cold snarl, eliciting a tiny squeak from you just as he is nearing you before you bolt past Sunghoon.

Of course, you should know better than to underestimate Sunghoon and his agility, because in a blink of an eye, you feel a harsh tug at your wrist before he pulls you back roughly to him only for him to manoeuvre you, now finding yourself being carried over his shoulder.

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” You exclaim, kicking and swinging your legs in defiance, which only earns you a smack on your ass as it stings from the impact of his palm while a whiplash of deja vu hits you in the face, but driven by unabating adrenaline, you feel a strong inclination to push them to the limits of their patience. 

“Stop squirming or you’ll fall, damn it!” Sunghoon grits his teeth, firmly stabilising his arm that cages around your still-wiggling legs.

Frankly, Sunghoon has absolutely no idea what situation led you to be seemingly eluding Jay after you bumped into him, but when he spotted a familiar shadow over Jay’s dour countenance, Sunghoon had an inkling that you did something to infuriate Jay, never mind the fact that he saw the dark arousal in Jay’s eyes and the latter’s prominent bulge against the outline of his slacks.

“I won’t unless you stop carrying me like I'm some doll!” You bite back, and your aggressive retaliation takes them by surprise before it adds more fuel to their indignation that incites them to discipline you.

Just like his best friend trailing behind him, Sunghoon lacks the virtue of patience, and so he delivers another smack on your ass while the sound resonates throughout the desolate corridor. “Stop acting like a fucking brat, princess.”

“Fuck you.” The profanity shooting like bullets from your unbridled mouth hits them in the face, whereas you feel proud of yourself as the corners of your lips curve in a smug smile.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Sunghoon asks in an unrestrained growl as his arms tighten around you while his inner demons that have been laying dormant in him are roused awake, borderline ravenous.

Of course, you refuse to yield despite your sensibility that is strenuously abstaining you from revelling in great delight at pushing their buttons, and so you raise your head to meet Jay’s stormy eyes instead, mustering a cunning smile on your lips.

“Fuck you.”

Oh, Y/N Kang, you’re done for.

Sunghoon comes to an abrupt stop that causes you to hit your face into his buttocks. Using your core strength, you slowly lift yourself with your head turned to the side, just enough to see Sunghoon pushing the door open violently before he marches inside.

You only manage to take a glimpse of the deluxe suite before you are caught off guard for a split second when Sunghoon tosses you on the bed, eliciting a grunt from you at the impact as you land face-planted on the white fleecy bedding.

Despite the trepidation that should have impelled you to flee them, which mingles with your adrenaline rushing through your veins unremittingly, the newfound depravity influences you to continue your provocation as you release giggles.

You feel callous hands manoeuvring your inert body, now finding yourself facing the ceiling with your back on the mattress. Merriment bubbles in your chest that prompt the uncontrollable giggles from you while you more than admit that you feel delirious.

“Look at me.” Sunghoon grabs your jaw with a hint of roughness as he forces you to look at him, his steely eyes penetrating into yours, but in the vehemence of your defiance, you whine, moving your head to escape the danger of his callous touch.

“I said, fucking looking at me.” Sunghoon commands with a cold snarl, and this time, he manages to earn your obedience when you relent, your eyes returning to his ablaze. “Are you drunk?”

No matter how fuckable you look right now ─ with your hair spread out in tendrils across the bed, your twinkling eyes that stare right back at him with nearly blown-lust pupils, your plump glossy lips going parted, and the unmistakable bumps of your perky nipples under the fabric of your bikini ─ he doesn’t want to take you when you’re under the heavy influence of alcohol, even when his erected cock against the slacks is starting to hurt.

“No, I’m not, but maybe you are!” You giggle once more, unable to control yourself from patting his cheeks as you look at him with doe-eyes that go straight into his raging cock while your lips jut into a pout. “Is Park Sunghoon feeling angry because I said fuck you? Gosh, you’re pathetic! Both of you are!”

Despite the unceasing indignation in them, they can’t help but feel entertained by your temperament, seeing the new side of you that they had no idea of.

Leaving you to your indefinite tantrum momentarily, Sunghoon leans away from you to look at Jay, his firm eyes holding concern. “How much did she drink?”

“How the hell should I know?” Jay scoffs before returning his eyes to you and finding you loafing on the bed as you lazily turn your body around. A smirk touches his lips as he recalls your body grinding against his. “She’s tipsy, but conscious enough to know that she was purposely fucking around with me.”

“The hot one is right!” You blabber out, humming a tune with your upraised legs swinging back and forth as you face the window.

“Hot one?” Sunghoon raises his voice slightly in disbelief. “What about me?”

You look over your shoulder lazily, casting a glance at him with your eyes raking down his body. “You’re hot too, but both of you don’t deserve to fuck me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon’s voice sounds deeper with a husk while his eyes darken with primal lust, moving closer to the bed while you remain in your reverie, blissfully unaware of the predatory danger creeping up on you. “Princess, you’re in no position to tell us what we don’t deserve when you’ve been nothing but a fucking brat.”

Sunghoon grabs you by your ankles as he puts a stop to your blissful swinging before he pulls you roughly towards him, forcing your legs to spread apart under his ravenous gaze as he looks down. You can barely comprehend anything when he delivers a harsh, stinging slap to your round, supple butt, eliciting a pained gasp from you.

“Where are the handcuffs?” You hear Sunghoon asking Jay, and instead of fear, the idea of cuffing your hands only intensifies your arousal, while at the same time, your cunt clenches in anticipation as you hear the sound of shuffling behind.

Still, you feign refusal, finding it rather thrilling, which only makes them want you more than they already do. “No! Stop! What are you doing?!” You exclaim, writhing and struggling helplessly with your arms being interlocked by Sunghoon from behind as he assists Jay while the latter slaps down the cuffs onto your wrists, shackling them.

Taking over Sunghoon’s position, Jay forces your legs to be lewdly apart, standing in between, before grabbing you by the cuffs and raising your upper body with ease. Your heart remains pounding hard against your chest, feeling his hot breath fanning on your temple.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this, as if you didn’t deliberately taunt me earlier.” Jay’s voice is dangerously low, igniting the excitement that flares behind your irises. “You really are a little devil under the disguise of a sweet angel, aren’t you? If you just wanted to get fucked, then you should’ve said so instead of acting like a brat.”

As soon as Jay releases you, you fall back down on the mattress, completely restrained as you struggle to move about, but a gasp leaves your lips when your bottom bikini is being pulled down. The cold temperature from the air conditioner hits your bare cunt, sending shivers through your body.

“Cold!” You whine before burying your face into the bedding as your neck feels strained, but there is not any ounce of mercy when Jay delivers a wet smack to your cunt as the pink folds are already smeared with your slick arousal before he slides his two fingers into you, starting off deliberately slow as he thrusts into you.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan out as soon as he changes the pace, scissoring you harder and faster with abandon while you arch your back with your stomach pressing deeper into the mattress and your legs spreading for more. The squelching sound from your cunt that reaches your ear is entirely obscene. Having fallen into the delirious haze of lust, you pant lightly in between moans as you attempt to fuck yourself back on his brutal fingers while your clit feels neglected, eliciting a needy whimper from you. “Jay, please─”

A loud smack of his palm on your butt resonates throughout the suite while the action causes your walls to clench around him, drawing a smirk from him as he eyes you down with primal hunger. “Gotta get you prepped for Sunghoon, baby, but look at you─ already so fucking wet and trying to fuck yourself back on me like a bunny in heat.”

“P-Please! Oh! Oh, please!” Tears prickle in your eyes at the frustration as your clit is in dire need of attention before a wanton moan rips from your throat at the sensation of his fingers now plunging deep and curling upwards, each thrust hitting your g-spot deliciously. “Fuck, Jay!”

“Yeahh, that’s your fucking spot, isn’t it?” Jay licks his lips as his eyes never leave the jiggling motion of your supple butt, enticing him to smack on them once more, painting them the shade of faint redness. “You’re not gonna cum, baby. Not until you get cock in you.”

“No! Please, no!” You sob out, not wanting your impending orgasm to be ripped off from you, as he doesn’t let up the vigorous thrusts of his fingers into your sopping cunt.

With your head slowly turned to the side, your glistening eyes meet Sunghoon’s dark ones before they trail down to his monstrous erection with the raging red tip pointed towards you, seeing as he is leisurely jerking off. “Hoonie…” A whimper leaves your lips, fearing and needing him.

Sunghoon merely casts you a smirk, his fang-like teeth peeking from his lips. “Just as he said. Don’t you dare cum before I fuck you.” He warns, examining the contortion of your angelic face as he knows you are close.

Helpless moans spill from your lips, with your wrists moving as they struggle against the cuffs. Your walls keep clenching around his vigorous fingers as he drives you closer and closer. “Fuck, Jay! Please! I’m so close─” Just when you are about to plead, Jay does the infuriating move as he abruptly withdraws from you, his slick fingers coating with your arousal while you cry out, feeling empty. “You’re so cruel.”

You flinch when Jay smacks your reddened ass once more before squeezing the flesh, his nails leaving temporary indents as they sink into your skin. “Oh, baby, you haven’t even seen cruel.”

You feel his hands manoeuvre you again to shift your position, turning you around to face the ceiling, with the exception of your cuffed hands being pressed into the mattress by the weight of your body and your head nearly hanging by the edge of the bed.

“Where the hell were you, anyway?” You hear Jay inquire to Sunghoon, cutting through the stifling atmosphere while you continue to writhe helplessly, turning side-to-side as you desperately seek to alleviate the aching pain on your clit to finish off what Jay didn’t.

“I was looking for my phone, and I remember that I left it unlocked.” Sunghoon replies, but amidst your incessant arousal, you manage to discern the harrowing in his tone, which is caused by his missing phone, for some reason. “Fuck, I swear I had it placed on the vanity table in my suite.”

“We’ll deal with your missing phone later.” Jay tells him sternly with a sense of assurance while you are oblivious to their calculated coordination as you remain reeling from the loss of your stolen orgasm before Jay appears in your line of sight, albeit you are seeing him from the inverted point of view.

You gasp softly as you marvel at the sight of his erection that looks similar to Sunghoon, your mouth foaming in anticipation. Upon seeing the thirst in your eyes, Jay smirks down at you as he finally towers over you. “Right now, our angel is hungry for cock. Aren’t you, baby?”

Oh, you are more than hungry; you are practically ravenous. You need them to fill your holes in the most filthy, intoxicating way unimaginable. “Fuck me, please.” Any decorum in you is thrown into the whirlwind of emotions that heighten your libido, which pleases them as you are truly and unequivocally corrupted.

A breathy moan leaves your lips as soon as you feel the weight of Sunghoon’s cock slapping down on your folds before he grabs his shaft to aim at your clit and taps on it repeatedly, as the deliberate action only enhances your sensitivity.

“Gonna put that filthy mouth of yours to use, my sweet little devil. Baptise your mouth with my cock.” Jay snarls at you as he brings his cock closer to your face, only for him to tantalisingly smack the head on your cheek lightly.

“Please! Use me!” Your hips continue to buck up while your mouth is parted open with pleas, leaving them at the agonising foreplay of both men. “I’ll do anything! Just please fuck me─”

At once, you are swiftly silenced by the simultaneous intrusion from their cocks, one shoving his girth into your mouth while the other rams his into your quivering cunt, lodging deep in you.

“Use you, hmm? As expected from a cockslut like you.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly, his eyes holding familiar devilry as he watches how docile you are, taking the whole of Jay’s girth as he thrusts into your mouth. 

Jay throws his head to the back as he holds you by the sides of your neck for leverage, but set in tandem with the way Sunghoon thrusts into you, moaning deeply at the sensation of your sopping cavern and the way your tongue skillfully manipulates around the head of his cock as it intensifies the sensitivity.

The erotic display of seeing his best friend in pure gratification as he fucks into your mouth ignites something so carnal in Sunghoon that stems from his inner ravenous demons, propelling him to lodge deeper with each brutal thrust he delivers with his hips bruising yours unforgivingly, causing your whole body to shake while your bikini is dangerously teetering into exposing the entirety of your breasts.

Despite having been used by them for uncountable amounts of times than you can recall, your walls feel miraculously tight as they clamp around Sunghoon’s thick girth, vacuuming him deliciously and eliciting a guttural moan from him.

“Fucked you too many times, and yet you’re still so tight.” Sunghoon groans, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs as he manipulates them into an angle that grants the head to meet the spongy spot in you, eliciting a gurgling noise from the back of your throat while the sensation of Jay’s unrelenting thrusts causes you to gag around him with drools dribbling from the corners of your lips.

Jay clenches his jaw, feeling the vibration from your throat to his cock as you moan before he looks at Sunghoon. “I don’t know what you did, but keep fucking her like that.” Jay demands, earning him an approving smirk from Sunghoon before the latter fucks his cock into you harder in the previous angle yet with a searing precision, and this time, a muffled scream has been shoved down into your throat.

Jay diverts his attention to your beautiful body, which is sinfully pliant with your cuffed hands behind your back and your legs spread out and accentuated in the perfect arch of your back. He withdraws slightly from your mouth before immediately plunging into you deeply, and this time, becoming enthralled upon seeing the prominent bulge of his cock on your throat while you nearly see your life flashing in your eyes as Jay lodges deep into your throat, restricting the airways to your lungs.

“Oh, fuck. You’re going to make me cum, princess.” Sunghoon announces, gritting his teeth as your cunt pulsates around him, hurling him to the edge. Just like that, his orgasm comes in tidal waves with his hips snapping against yours, going completely still, allowing your cunt to milk every drop of his cum. “That’s it. Milk my cock just like that, princess. Brats like you need to be filled to the brim with our cum.”

Your whine manages to escape your stuffed mouth, which Sunghoon immediately understands, as evident in the way you keep moving your hips sensually as you attempt to fuck yourself onto his cock, wanting to attain your own orgasm.

“I’m close, baby girl.” Jay says huskily in between bated breaths while he watches his best friend spit a glob of saliva as it drops directly on your clit before the latter uses his fingers to spread his saliva around your clit, and he sees the effect of the ministration on your quivering abdomen.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re far from over.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly as he hears your muffled whine and moans again at the mind-blowing sensation of his fingers rubbing your clit that work in tandem with his recommencing thrusts. “Gonna make you squirt good, my slutty princess.”

“Hoon, look.” Jay groans, gesturing to Sunghoon towards the prominent bulge in your throat each time he delivers shallow thrusts. “Fuck. Her mouth and throat work like fucking magic. Taking me good like the perfect slutty angel she is for us.”

Without letting up the fervent ministration on your bundles of nerves that are set ablaze, Sunghoon leans down as he hovers over your docile figure to place a deep, sensual kiss directly on your throat, his tongue licking a long stripe across your bulging throat, to which Jay swears he can feel Sunghoon’s tongue pressing deep in contact with his cock.

“I’m going to cum.” Jay releases a low guttural moan before he goes still as he lodges his cock deep into your throat, spilling the warm spurt into you as you are forced to swallow. “Yeah, baby. Swallow all of it.”

You try your utmost to breathe through your nose and not go insane over the overwhelming pleasure of Sunghoon’s cock fucking into you and his fingers working their magic on your clit while he continues to assault your neck with his wet, sensual kiss and licks, his fangs occasionally grazing across your skin that shudders you.

When Jay slowly withdraws his cock from you, you release a loud gasp as you immediately attempt to regulate your erratic breathing, licking your lips that are smeared with the excess of his cum. The feeling of Sunghoon’s cock hitting your cervix elicits a loud moan from you, your eyes rolling to the back as he relentlessly hits that fucking spot.

“Hoonie! Fuck!” You cry out, deepening the arch of your back as he rubs your clit fast and hard, which causes your cunt to clench around him. You nearly choke out when he curls his fingers around your neck, applying enough pressure to remind you that he will always reign control over your body.

“Oh my god!” You roll your eyes to the back, struggling to breathe as he tightens his fingers around your neck while you feel your impending orgasm teetering, and you’re so close, but this time, you feel something so familiar yet it is overpowering, blinding your senses as white-hot pleasure sizzles through you.

Sunghoon smirks, licking his lips while his eyes remain trained on your sinful yet beautiful face, mesmerised at the pure ecstasy contorting. “Come on, princess. Fucking give it to me.” He commands harshly, pressing his moving thumb deeply onto your clit and setting the nerves aflame. “Make a mess on my cock. Squirt for me.”

And you do, your mouth open in a silent scream and your eyes rolling to your skull with your back arched as white fluid gushes out from your cunt while he doesn’t let up his slow, deliberate thrusts, his eyes darkening as he revels in the way you continue to bathe him with your sweet essence. Your body is convulsing uncontrollably while your abdomen quivers at the blissful onslaught raining down on you.

Even as you come down from your high, the atmosphere in the room remains thickening with sweat, lust, and dominance emanating from both males that sends you a wave of submission, more than ready for them to take you again.

You whimper at the loss of Sunghoon’s cock unsheathing from you, causing your cunt to pulsate at the emptiness, with your mixed cum slowly leaking down. “Hoonie.”

Just as you are about to plead with him to free you from the handcuffs, he leans down and claims your lips in a ravenous kiss, his fingers curling around your neck and his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, tasting the residue of Jay’s cum on your tongue before he engages with you in a wanton kiss, tongues dancing in an intimate tango with your saliva smearing the outlines of your lips.

“Please. It hurts.” You pant against his lips, your cuffed wrists starting to feel the discomfort from having to be pressed down by your weight into the mattress. Sunghoon merely ignores your plea, focusing on your addictive lips and caging the bottom lip between his teeth, only to tug it harshly before reinserting his tongue into your mouth.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten how you left me that night, princess. Left us.” Sunghoon growls against your lips, sending shivers down your back in the way his penetrating eyes into yours darken with a melding of lust and danger.

Needing a short break, Jay inhales the familiar flavoured vapour from the e-cigarette in his grasp, watching as the grey smoke wafts in the air towards you while Sunghoon continues to speak harshly into your panting mouth, “Four fucking days without you, and you thought it was a good idea to leave us like that? Ignoring our calls and texts─ fuck─ You just love to push our buttons, don’t you?”

“H-Hoonie.” You gasp with your hooded eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the pernicious pressure he applies to your neck.

Seeing your lips parting open, Sunghoon spits into your mouth while the taste of his saliva sliding on your tongue elicits a strangled moan from you, prompting him to loosen his grip. “Swallow.” You do as he says, your throat bobbing as you swallow down his thick saliva with a moan.

“Please uncuff me.” You finally manage to utter after losing your voice for a moment, pleading in a whimper as you subtly squirm underneath Sunghoon. “It hurts.”

Sunghoon leans away from you, his eyes trailing to his best friend with a smirk etching his countenance. “What do you think? Should we uncuff her?”

Jay shifts his gaze as he saunters towards you, his cock nearly springing into action in the way your doe-glistening eyes are staring at him while you remain bondaged, still lewdly spread out on the bed like dessert.

“I don’t know. Should we?” Jay sighs leisurely as he brushes your hair away from your sticky face, his fingers trailing down to cup your jaw roughly, forcing you to look into his steely eyes. “Are you going to leave us again?”

You immediately shake your head, your thighs squirming and pressing together in an attempt to repress your incessant stirring arousal. Jay tightens his lock on your jaw. “Are you going to act like a brat again?”

“No! I promise I’ll be good!” Your obedience seems to please them, and before you know it, Jay turns your body sideways to assist Sunghoon in uncuffing your now-reddened wrists, finally releasing you.

You wince, rubbing your sore wrists before Jay seizes them as he hovers over you, your wrists now being shackled by his firm grasp and placed above your head. You open your mouth to protest, but his lips capture yours in a deep, searing kiss, similar to how Sunghoon kisses you, yet there is a fervent longing in the way Jay’s lips move against yours with a sense of urgency.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.” He rasps against your lips, lowering his body weight on yours to grind his bare cock on you while you whine into the kiss, reciprocating as you rut up your cunt back on him with the head of his cock hitting your nub. “Don’t torture us like that again. Don’t leave, or I’ll─” 

Jay pauses, his voice sounding strained at the sensation of your drenched folds stimulating his cock, before he recovers with a growl as he kisses you searingly, his sharp teeth now sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, which elicits a pained gasp from you as he manages to wound your lip and draw out blood.

“Jay.” You moan out in both pain and pleasure as he sucks your throbbing lip, tasting you before he thrusts his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste your metallic blood that only seems to turn you on further.

“Just don’t leave again, or I’ll go insane for real.” Jay says, pulling away from your swollen lips and releasing his grip on your wrists. In a blink of an eye, Jay’s arms engulf your body to raise you, having you settled on his lap for him to untie your bikini that covers your two perky mounts expertly before tossing aside.

You gasp softly as Jay earnestly exerts his territorial mark on your skin, prompting you to arch your neck to give him better access with his arm encasing your waist while the other grips your hair. “Even if you leave again, I’ll find you, and I’ll chase you till the end.” He murmurs against your skin, and you can discern the dark promises in his tone alone before he resumes, hurling you into a new bliss.

The way Jay is bruising your neck with his teeth and licking the fresh hickey on your skin sends a pleasurable sensation through your body, prompting you to roll your hips as your cunt slides back and forth on his cock with your head tilted up, eyes fluttering closed, and your fingers tugging his hair with your arms embracing him.

Unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is eyeing Jay with vile jealousy, which he can’t help but feel, seeing how the raw intimacy is enveloping both of you with an air of reverence. Being spurred by the maddening jealousy, Sunghoon storms over to the bed, your back facing him, whereas Jay has long sensed his imminent presence that is oozing with a melding of jealousy and predatory.

Without pulling his lips away from your shoulder, Jay looks up at Sunghoon with a devious smirk. “It looks like someone is jealous, baby girl.” Jay drawls out, now leaning away from you for Sunghoon to seize control over you as he grips your hair and pulls it to the back, eliciting a gasp from you with your neck straining.

“Have you forgotten about me, princess?” Sunghoon asks lowly with a sneer, finding great delight in the way your glistening eyes are staring into his eyes with palpable fear and lust as you hesitantly shake your head, but he merely scoffs. “Oh, yeah, you did. How dare you, princess? After I’ve satisfied you with my cock, Where’s your gratitude, hm?”

“T-Thank you.” You stammer, feeling lightheaded at the stimulation on your nub from Jay’s fingers as the male multitasks in giving equal attention to your hardened nipples, licking and kissing them wetly. 

You whimper just as Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hair, causing your scalp to burn. You look at him tearfully as he smirks down at you, the cruelty gleaming delightfully in his eyes. “For?”

“For fucking me good.” You ramble out, unable to handle the sensitivity of having your clit and nipple assaulted by Jay any longer.

“Because you’re just a hungry cockslut who needs to be stuffed full, isn’t that right, princess?” Sunghoon tuts in disapproval upon hearing no response from you, with the exception of your light pants and breathy moans. He pulls your head to the back again, and this time, you meet his dark eyes upside down. “I asked, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” You nod your head frantically, your chest heaving with pleasure as Jay busily maps his kisses across the expanse of your chest, biting and bruising your skin just the same. “Please fuck me again.”

Sunghoon decides to show you some clemency as he finally releases you before looking at Jay. “Princess wants to get fucked again.” He tuts.

Jay releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, his dark eyes soaking in the image of your sultry countenance as you unrelentingly grind against him. “Oh, I heard that, alright. Our sweet little devil is just hungry for cock.”

“Please, Jay.” Naturally, you assume that Jay will be the one to take you first since Sunghoon fucked you earlier, but the words coming out of his mouth shake you.

“Can you handle both of us, baby?” Jay smirks, his lips remaining ghosting over your parted lips as you softly whine in protest and shake your head out of fear before moaning as he continues to rub patterns on your sensitive clit with skillful precision. “Yeah? You want us? You want our cocks to fill you up good, baby?”

“Of course, she can handle us.” Sunghoon chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “Lay down with her. I’m going to fuck her ass good.”

“What?” You blurt out, your eyes widening in panic, but you barely manage to make a movement when Jay embraces you to pull you down with him, having you settled on top of him with your tits pressing into his chest. “Wait! It won’t fit─”

“I will make it fit.” Sunghoon cuts you off with a growl. His austerity is punctuated by the impact of his palm smacking down on your ass before you feel his fingers dragging across your drenched folds to collect the slickness of your cum to serve as a lubricant as he smears it on his cock. “You’re going to take my cock either way, princess. Your unused hole needs to be ruined just the same as your sweet cunt.”

Sunghoon provides his assistance to Jay as he lifts your hips for the latter to aim his cock into your awaiting cunt before forcefully sinking you down on him. A broken moan leaves your lips as you feel the sheer girth of Jay’s cock stretching you painfully, but the pain immediately morphs into pleasure as Jay begins to deliver slow yet shallow thrusts into you while his arms slither around your body.

Upon seeing the pleasure on your face, Jay catches Sunghoon’s eyes and gives the latter an affirmative nod. Just as you are about to get sinfully immersive once more, your eyes snap open with a fearful gasp emitted from you when you feel Sunghoon spreading your ass cheek and dragging the head of his cock along the crack.

Feeling your pounding heart against his chest, Jay caresses your lower back in an attempt to soothe you without letting up his thrusts. “Relax, baby girl. It’s only going to hurt more if you continue to tense up.” He says so sternly, but there is a tinge of softness that makes your heart swell.

Just as you attempt to loosen yourself, Sunghoon immediately slides his cock into your gaping hole, tearing a broken gasp from you at the blistering sensation as he unrelentingly buries himself deeper. The pain is unlike any other, emitting tears from your eyes that trickle down your cheeks, but amidst the pain as Sunghoon continues to bully his way into you, the pleasure from your cunt that is being stuffed full by Jay’s cock manages to distract you.

“M-More.” You whisper brokenly, moaning, when Sunghoon begins to thrust into you as your hole has accommodated his girth. “Please, fuck me more.” You sob out. It is as though you are drunk; your head is caught up in a lascivious haze as the pain has completely morphed into an intense pleasure.

“Greedy fucking slut. Just one cock is never going to be enough for you.” Sunghoon grunts, his hips snapping against yours from the back harshly with each thrust as he works in tandem with Jay. The stimulation from both cocks filling your holes makes you lightheaded. “We’re going to stuff you like this every time you act up like a fucking brat.”

Jay groans as he throws his head to the back, feeling the way your cunt clench around him as soon as Sunghoon says that. A smirk tugs at his lips. “Our little devil loves getting fucked by two cocks at once, doesn’t she?”

“Then you better get used to this, princess.” Sunghoon grunts, biting down your shoulder as he rams his cock into your hole with fervour, feeling his impending orgasm teetering by the edge. “Shit─ You feel so fucking good─ I’m close.” He lets out a low guttural moan, using your body for his own pleasure as he ploughs from behind, which has you sinking deeper into Jay’s cock.

Sunghoon grabs you by the hair, forming it into a makeshift ponytail, before raising your upper body just slightly for Jay to shove two fingers into your panting mouth, pushing further until your moans are mingled with choked sobs, tears trickling down your cheeks at the painful pleasure.

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby.” Jay pants, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as he feels the climax while he admires how intoxicated you are caught up in the throes of your pleasure and how deep you have fallen in this abysmal.

With one last earth-shattering thrust into your abused holes, their arrival is punctuated in the way they bury their cocks to the hilt as they go completely stilled, filling you to the brim with their cum at the same time your cunt spasms around Jay as you cum profusely.

Basking in the afterglow of your frenzied encounter, a heavy silence envelopes the suite, with only the sound of ragged breathings emitting from the three of you as you lay on each other, bodies sticking with sweat, yet you feel an odd sense of comfort as you find familiar solace with them.

As your eyes flutter close, you feel Sunghoon pressing his lips on your shoulder before he eventually pulls out his cock from your gaping hole, eliciting a whimper from you while you continue to lay on top of Jay.

“Come on, princess.” Sunghoon murmurs, assisting Jay in lifting you from him, while you moan weakly at the sensation of Jay’s cock being dragged along your pulsating walls as he finally withdraws from you. “Don’t lose yourself to sleep now.”

A familiar sense of arousal reigns when Sunghoon leans down to kiss your perky nipples before slotting his lips over yours to kiss you deeply. “The night is far from over for you.” Sunghoon smirks against your lips before the loss of his warmth elicits a whine from you, but the weight pulling down your eyelids tempts you to fall into the realm of sleep as the exertion of the aftermath dawns on you.

You don’t bother to question the sound of shuffles and the door swinging open, only wanting to succumb to the darkness, but just as you nearly allow the darkness to engulf you wholly, a spark of fire ignites in your core as soon as warm, plump lips press into yours, kissing you with a sense of urgency with his hands roaming around your body.

“Did you have fun with them, lovely?” His voice as he rasps against your lips causes your eyes to flutter open, meeting Jake’s warm brown eyes that are darkening with primal lust as he gazes deeply into your eyes.

“Jaeyun.” You utter his name softly as you caress his cheek, only for him to grab your hand to plant a kiss on your palm while his sultry eyes never leave yours. When your eyes trail to his hand, you frown at the sight of his bruised knuckles that are smeared with dried scarlet. “What happened?”

Instead of Jake answering you, another familiar voice compels you to look to the side, only to see Heeseung towering over the bed next to Jake, his dark eyes drinking in your beautiful glory being displayed on the bed and ready to be ruined once more.

“He’s fine, beloved. Nothing too serious happened. I helped him out to stop a brawl.” Heeseung sees you opening your mouth, earning you a tut from him. “No more talking about anything other than us pleasuring you, sweetheart.”

“What?” You breathe out, shaking your head in refusal as Jake lowers himself before pulling you by the legs until he is levelled with your wholly drenched and cum-smeared pussy. You don’t have the opportunity to further protest when Jake attaches his lips to your clit, tearing out a moan from you as he licks and sucks the nub expertly.

“Don’t worry, my beloved. We’re going to make you feel so good. Even better than they did.” Heeseung whispers as he settles next to you, his lips unfurling a soft smirk upon seeing the blissful contortion on your face as Jake works his magic on your cunt, with his tongue now slithering into your cunt.

“Jaeyun! Oh my god!” You throw your head to the back as you feel his tongue delve deeper with purpose, your fingers haphazardly finding their way to tug at Jake’s hair to rock your hips against his face. A pleasurable jolting sensation runs through you as Heeseung pinches your nipple and leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Panting against Heeseung’s mouth, he greedily swallows every sound emitting from you, his tongue exploring every inch and dancing with yours obscenely wet while his fingers continue to tweak and pinch your sensitive nipples. Below you, Jake is practically munching on your wholly drenched pussy from the residue of his saliva, moaning against your folds at the taste of your cum that mixed with his best friends.

Your thighs are already threatening to close from the sensitivity as Jake ravages you with his nose rubbing your clit, reigniting the bundle of nerves, before he forces your legs to be lewdly spread apart by the firmness of his hands while you run your fingers through Heeseung’s tousled locks as he devours your swollen lips.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer.” Heeseung murmurs before pulling away from your chasing lips to look at Jake. “Jake, stop. I’m going to fuck her first.”

Your eyes twinkle with curious amazement, watching Jake heed obedience to Heeseung’s command as he detaches his lips from yours. His lustrous nose and lips are smeared with your slick arousal while his dark, ravenous eyes meet yours, bringing a smirk to his pink lips before he grabs you by the arm and pulls you away from the bed.

Standing on your feet, you can feel your knees nearly buckle underneath you before Jake stabilises you, his arms embracing your waist while his lips search for yours and he greedily kisses you with a palpable hunger, momentarily distracting you as you melt against him.

“Jake.” You hear Heeseung’s voice from behind, and instantly, Jake slowly backs you up without breaking the lip lock, his hands falling to your hips to guide you before pulling away from the kiss. Just as you whine, you feel hands on your waist from behind you, pulling you down on him. “Come here, pretty girl. You’re going to ride my cock.”

“W-Wait─” A strangled gasp leaves your lips as soon as you sink on to his cock with saturating ease, while a familiar fear strikes you as you recall the last time he fucked you when you thought his long shaft would destroy you from the inside.

Heeseung groans lowly, feeling the warmth of your inviting walls hugging his cock tightly as though they had missed him. “How am I supposed to fuck you when your cunt is sucking me like this, pretty?” He grits his teeth, his hands on your hips, guiding you firmly to ride him before you finally pick up the momentum.

Each movement sends shockwaves through your body, making you feel your cock so deep that you swear you can feel your tummy bulging. “That’s it, pretty baby. Oh, you’re riding me so fucking good.” Heeseung’s voice is husky with primal desire as he rasps against your sheeny skin before sensually kissing your shoulder.

The hypnotising obscenity of you riding and bouncing on his best friend’s cock with your faces contorting in the same ecstasy compels Jake to gravitate towards you, kneeling down with his dark eyes fixated on his best friend’s cock disappearing into your sopping cunt.

Without a word, Jake latches his lips on your engorging clit, sending a jolting pleasure through your body as he licks the bundle of nerves uninhibitedly, accompanied by the occasional suction with his plush lips wrapping around the nub.

“Oh! Jaeyun!” You moan out, your hand trying to grip Jake’s hair, but Heeseung grabs a hold of your arms and locks them behind you while he doesn’t relent from bucking his hips up as he delivers shallow thrusts into you.

Getting drunk on your pussy and your essence that slowly leaks down on Heeseung’s girth, Jake decides to push his limits, his tongue searching and moving deeper to your cunt until he touches the solid girth of his best friend’s cock.

“Fucking hell, Jake.” Heeseung groans at the delicious sensation of Jake’s tongue dragging along your folds until he hits the base of his cock. “Look at you both, being such sluts.” His voice is laden with lust as he looks over your shoulder briefly. 

Both you and Jake moan in response, the degradation goes straight into the unbearable heat pooling in your core. It isn’t long before your cunt clenches uncontrollably around Heeseung as a telltale sign of your impending climax, eliciting a moan from him.

“Gonna cum, pretty?” Heeseung whispers into your ear, his fingers tangling in your hair to seize control over you as he grabs it into a makeshift ponytail to turn your head to the side. Receiving only the continuous yet broken moans from you, he tightens his grip on your hair, his nose grazing on your cheek as he growls lowly. “I asked you a question.”

You quickly nod your head, not wanting to displease him. “Yes! I’m gonna cum! Please!” You plead in a sob, getting utterly delirious by Jake’s tongue going relentless on your clit as well as Heeseung's vigorous thrusts that feel shallow than the previous, driving you further to the brink of your sanity with their sheer intensity.

Heeseung turns your head to the perfect angle to capture your parted lips with his, kissing you wetly. “Cum.” He growls his command against your lips, sending goosebumps to your skin.

With one last deliberate and precise flick on your clit from Jake’s tongue, your orgasm comes crashing down violently, one with a familiar intensity that gushes out in fluids from your cunt while your thighs quiver.

“Fuck!” You scream out, arching your back against Heeseung as the latter continues to fuck into you, even as you are squirting uncontrollably while Jake bathes in your essence that wets the lower region of his now-sheeny face, revelling in the fluid mess from you with a smirk on his lips.

Delivering one last thrust into your overstimulated cunt, Heeseung releases his grip from your hair to manoeuvre you on the bed as you find yourself lying down sideways, with his cock remaining buried in your pulsating cunt as he is closely behind you.

“Seungie.” You whine, wiggling your ass in an attempt to escape from his cock, but Heeseung slithers his arm around the swell of your tummy, locking you in. “Pull out, please. I can’t��”

“Oh, yes, you can.” Heeseung shushes you, ascending his fingers to stimulate you again as he tweaks and rolls your nipple between his fingers, knowing that you are sensitive to having your nipples played. He presses a kiss on your shoulder, his dark eyes glinting wickedly as he glances up to see Jake hovering over the bed. “You’re going to take us both this time.”

“No. I can’t.” You shake your head, your eyes glistening with fear at the possibility of them tearing you apart with their girths, as you look at Jake settling in front of you in the same position as you. Panic blooms in your chest as Heeseung’s hand moves underneath your upper thigh to lift it up for Jake to gain easy access, causing you to squirm while the action only makes your cunt clench around Heeseung’s.

The head of Jake’s cock comes into contact with your clit, eliciting a soft gasp from you as he rubs it for good measure before aiming it at your stuffed cunt. You open your mouth to protest again, but instead, a pained gasp escapes you while tears prickle your eyes at the searing stretch of your cunt as Jake slowly enters you.

“So fucking tight.” Jake grits his teeth, looking down at the girth of his cock slowly disappearing into you before the sound of your whimper draws his attention, and his eyes soften at the sight of you in tears. He cradles your cheek before kissing you deeply. “I need you to trust me and relax, sweetheart. You’ll only get hurt if you continue to tense up. I promise you’ll feel good soon.”

Your heart swells at his affection in the way he speaks to you with a promise of assurance, while your blazing nerves begin to dwindle at the fluttery sensation of Heeseung’s kisses on your shoulder with his arm around your waist.

With a shaky nod from you, Jake takes this as a signal to continue entering you, feeling your cunt pulsating around their cocks while pants leave your lips, now feeling stuffed full with their cocks claiming you as they split you open.

It isn’t long before the searing pain begins to subside as they thrust into you, setting a pace that works well with their tandem. Your lips are part open, moaning in silence at the delirious sensation of their cocks as they deliver shallow thrust with one pull and another push before switching, moving in perfect synchrony.

“Shit, dude, I can feel you in her.” Jake groans, directing his remark at Heeseung, as the sensation of their cocks dragging against each other sends another pleasure through their bodies.

“Seungie, Jaeyun.” You mewl, causing their hearts to swell at how adorable you sound, before they groan as you clench around them. “Please kiss me.”

Hoisting your leg over his hip, Jake cups your cheek and slams his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and prodding his tongue into your parted lips while Heeseung sinks his teeth into your shoulder and descends his fingers to stimulate your clit, setting the nerves aflame once more as they don’t relent from fucking into you.

You moan into the kiss, gasping when Jake nips at your bottom lip only to suck it before being pulled away by Heeseung as he seizes your chin to capture your lips in a greedy kiss, your tongue occasionally licking and playing his lip ring. Jake occupies himself as he leans down to capture your perky nipple with his hungry lips.

The air is laden with a heady mix of your sweat, sex, and moans as the three of you are enraptured by the ecstasy of your sweet cunt enveloping them and clenching with each deliberate yet vigorous thrust from their cocks, obliterating your coherency.

Needing air, you pull away from Heeseung’s unforgiving kisses, gasping as you feel the impending need for release that sends shivers of ecstasy through your body. “Seungie, Jaeyun...”

“We know.” Jake places a chaste kiss on your lips while Heeseung intensifies the unbearable knot in your tummy by rubbing your clit skilfully, driving you into oblivion as their thrusts become more fervent with a raw carnal desire for you.

As soon as Heeseung pinches your bundle of blazing nerves, your eyes roll to the back with a silent moan, leaving your parted lips as you tumble over the edge of ecstasy, your climax flooding you with an intensity that has you gushing out the familiar fluids again, wetting them and the bed that is now drenched.

With one last earth-shattering thrust, they go completely still, burying deep into you as they fill you with their warm cum to the brim as they let out low guttural moans. They don’t pull out, even as you squirt for another time before the fervid heat wanes.

“Pretty baby, you wet the bed.” Heeseung coos, his fingers caressing your tummy, which swells with their cocks still buried in you. He places a kiss on your neck, still helping you to calm down from the delirious high. “I knew you’d take us so well.”

Silently basking in the comfort of their arms, a licentious thought pops into your head just as the sex haze begins to fade. You look at them with a sultry gaze that goes straight into their twitching cock. “I want you two to kiss.”

As expected, their reaction is entirely in disbelief before Jake speaks, “Sweetheart, why would you want─”

“Please.” You whine, slowly moving your hips purposefully to rile them up as they clench their jaws, feeling your pulsating cunt around them. “I want to see you kiss each other. Just this once.”

“If our girl wants to see us kiss, who are we to deny?” A smirk touches Heeseung’s lips, drawing a disbelieving glare from Jake.

“Dude, I’m not going to kiss you. I’m not fucking gay─”

Heseung catches Jake off guard when he seizes the latter’s chin to pull him forward before slamming his lips on his. You watch with prurient amazement as they slowly get immersed in the kiss just above you, allowing you the explicit view of their lips moving against each other ravenously.

Maybe you are wicked on the inside, because seeing them in a heated lip lock turns you on more than it should as you bite down your lips. You make a tentative move with your hips, but the sensation of your cunt clenching around them prompts them to break the kiss as they breathe harshly.

“Damn, you really like to see us kiss, don’t you?” Jake nearly growls out, his dark eyes soaking in the image of your sultry countenance as you continue to move your hips deliberately to taunt them, feeling their cocks twitching inside you.

“Pretty girl is nasty too.” Heeseung chuckles, bringing his fingers to pinch your nipple as you moan out, but a whimper leaves your lips as they slowly unsheathe their cocks from your now-gaping hole that leaks with the union of your cum.

With the unbridled lust coursing through your veins, you catch them off guard when you pin Jake on the mattress and waste no time grinding your cunt on his limp cock uninhibitedly.

“Again?” Jake groans, his hands falling to your hips lazily while you continue to lather your cum all over his cock. “Lovely, I need to take a break.”

“Our sweetheart is just hungry for cock, isn’t she?” Heeseung drawls, moving closer to you with his fingers now caressing and applying pressure to your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from you. “Jake, I’ll keep her occupied. You call Jay and Hoon and ask them if they want to join.”

The thought of Jay and Sunghoon joining in as well delights you, and you desperately need all of them to pleasure you throughout the whole night, even if it meant that they would be obliterating your cunt.

As soon as you whine, the sound of footsteps draws all of your attention to the two aforementioned figures as they stride into the suite with prominent bulges against their slacks, to which you lick your lips and your eyes haze with carnal lust.

“Don’t have to ask.” Jay’s voice that reverberates throughout the suite is huskily thick, laden with primal lust, while his eyes drink in the obscenity of your bare, exquisite display, watching you rubbing your clit unabashedly.

“Jay.” You whine, unrelentingly grinding your drenched folds on Jake’s erection while the latter groans deeply below you. “I need you so bad.”

“Come here.” Jay practically pounces on you, manoeuvring you across the bed until your back is pressed against the mattress before capturing your lips hungrily in a searing kiss. “Baby wants to fuck some more, yeah?” He rasps against your lips, drawing a whine from you as soon as he pulls away to get rid of his shorts.

“Please.” Your fingers descend to your lower region to rub your clit like a hungry cockslut, while the sight of you pleasuring yourself as you arch into your own touch hypnotises them, their eyes filled with carnal lust. You taunt them further, spreading your legs a little wider while moans spill from your lips as you increase the pace on your clit. “Please, oh, please! Fuck me─”

Jay silences you with his unforgiving lips once more, aiming his erection at your gaping holes before sliding into you with ease. “You’ll get fucked, alright.” He growls into the kiss, withdrawing his cock from you with only the head remaining inside before slamming into you with full force. “We're going to fuck you so much till the sun rises, baby girl.”

As moans spill from your lips, you turn your head lazily to the side only to spot Heeseung smoking a cigarette while Jake is drinking a glass of Bourbon as they watch you with the same predatory gaze from the couch.

But your view is immediately shielded by Sunghoon’s towering figure, prompting you to change the angle of your point of view. A smirk smears across his lips as he brings his cock to tap against your cheek. “Open your mouth wide, princess.”

Least to say that they really did keep you up and satisfied — four cocks claiming your cunt in one night.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz @kaykay11sworld @firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @superbbananananana @eastleighsblog @in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk @yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously @hoonsdrnkdzd @iveivory @pinkielina @criminaluvr

[deadclockghost]

To Comfort The Moon

A lil doodly comfort crumb from this AU. I swear it's more lighthearted than this! ....Mostly, anyway.

Usually, comments like that slide right over Moon, it doesn't really bother him, that day was just a bad one, and the kids weren't feeling as nice as they usually do. It happens. And they know they have each other to just be there! They're not alone.

Most of the Daycare space is canon compliant, with a few extras just because; in this case, Moon's Nap Corner! While most kids prefer being outside of the little nook, some feel safer inside, which is why it exists :)

I was debating whether to add the other important guys in this comic, but decided that this moment happened prior to their intro, or there are plot related reasons they're not here! It doesn't really matter... ^^'

Under the cut is the comic without dialogue! I feel like it's still understandable without it, and I kinda prefer it anyway, so I decided to post! Anyways, see you when I actually introduce the others correctly! (Aka post their refs) :>

[phas3d]

Annoying Habits Pt. 2 || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute and stupid things they do because i love fluff for some reason right now - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (saying "fun facts" that's common knowledge)

Being the smartest person in the room is the hardest thing ever, so thank GOD Draco is not him. He will run to you with full confidence to tell you about any new discovery he makes. It's new to him, but common sense to everyone else. But you don't have the heart to tell him it's basic knowledge because you know he'll never trust you again.

"You HAVE to follow me, it's the craziest thing EVER!" Draco said as he dragged you out of your dorm to run to the quad.

Whenever he's done this, you knew you needed to put on your best ever acting skills. You follow behind him, trying to predict what he'll say but before you complete those thoughts, he cuts you off.

"LOOK. AT. THIS!" He says as he points at the sky. You were confused, genuinely unsure of how to react since you weren't sure what to be shocked at.

"Oh wow uh, that's amazing!" You say hesistantly."

Draco was unsatisfied with your reaction, understanding that you had no clue what he was referencing too.

"Love," He paused for dramatic effect "Do you not see the MOON is fully in view during broad daylight?"

He said it with the highest confidence, somehow gaslighting you into genuinely feeling dumb despite knowing the moon is out during day time.

"W-Wow! You're so smart!" You say as an automatic response as he smiles, glad to teach you something.

"I know I am" He says, despite it not being in his personality list at all.

TOM RIDDLE (mocking you)

It is in Tom's blood to be mean, since he is he son of Voldemort. This caused him to have a tremendously hard time trying to make friends. Even when he acted as if he was a normal person, he would get tired and eventually snap to his true self: a blunt cold person. Because of this, he's not sure how to act in most situations since he has no clue how to react to most things. Thankfully, he has you to show him how to act.

When you two watch movies, he pays attention to you as well to see how to react. Or when you go out and talk with others, he copies your little mannerisms. It was cute at first to know that you're helping him adjust to society. But it quickly become annoying since he is extremely good at reading you.

It's gotten to the point where he can predict almost everything that you'll say, matching your tone, pitch, and even lisp perfectly. You could say nothing during a conversation and he'd be able to fill in the gaps exactly how you would.

"Tom-" You were interrupted.

"Where's my science notebook?" Tom mocks you, using a higher voice and over-exaggerating your harsh k's.

You sigh, which he also copied, before you playfully hit him with a small smile. "I told you to stop copying me!" You and Tom both say in unison.

"Your book is on your bed, hidden under your unfolded clothes. I recommend you clean it, I can tell all of your clothes are wrinkled already." He says as he flips his book to the next page.

"Oh shut up" You say as Tom copies you yet again.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (Annoying Tom)

Although Tom and Mattheo don't interact much in public, in private the two have a strong bond that can only be understood by each other. Their usual converstations consist of Mattheo raging about something, going into insane detail while Tom silently reacts whilst doing his homework. Then, Tom will give Mattheo a lecture on why what he did was fucking stupid which Mattheo spaces out to.

Since you've been with Mattheo for almost a year, you've been graced with the Riddle brother's bond, witnesses their odd converstations first hand. You've gotten used to it, blending perfectly in to their bond.

One thing that surprised you was the fact the Mattheo suddenly turns into the most annoying and needy person ever the second he's with Tom.

"Can you shut the fuck up and do your work?" Tom said, annoyed at the fact that you and Mattheo were sitting at his table in the library.

"It's not due until midnight! I'll just run to Snape's class at like 11:59 sharp." Mattheo said as he continued to make fake paper swords and shurikens.

"Okay sure do that, dumbass, see what happens." Tom mumbles, finally gave up on trying to convince his brother to do his work.

"You should listen to him~" You said as you flipped the page of your textbook whilst taking notes.

"Don't side with him! You're MY girlfriend!" Mattheo said annoyed by your words.

Tom smirked and nodded his head at you slightly, showing his small appreciation for you siding with him.

THEODORE NOTT (lying for fun)

He's basically like SZA, lying for fun because it's a good conversation starter. He first started doing this when he first came to Hogwarts because he wasn't sure how to start a conversation with someone. He would lie by saying he never had popcorn before or that he's allergic to dragon scales so people would be interested.

Now he's popular and has no need to lie for attention. But, it's an addiction. He can't stop making silly lies that are just borderline believable. But now he's widen his horizon, now he lies about history, teachers, other people, and more.

"Did you know Draco's mom is colorblind?" Theo said as he entered the Slytherin dorm. You sighed, already being able to tell he was lying since you knew him so well.

"Whaaaat?! Is she? Like for real???" Lorenzo questioned as to how Theo found out before himself, especially since he was raised by the Malfoys. "That makes sense why her outfits for funny lookin' sometimes."

"That's so sad man." Mattheo said solemly, as if Theo just said Draco's mom suffered from a permeant disease. "She sees life like those old ass Mickey Mouse cartoons. All black and white."

The three idiots looked down at the floor, feeling pity for Draco's mom colorblindness. you scoffed at their stupidity but suddenly Enzo spoke up.

"We should make her a get well soon card!" He said with a smile.

"Don't do that-" You were cut off by Theo's hand covering your mouth.

"No we should! Make sure you only use black and grey though." Theo said.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (repetitive questions)

Although Lorenzo was the same age as you, he still trusted you way more than himself. You helped him pick everything, from outfits, food, dates, and more. Of course he would help too, but he just loved hearing your input since he wants to be the perfect boyfriend for you.

But, this habit of getting your approval for things started to sneak into schoolwork and paperwork. It started with him checking his answers with you, a completely normal thing. Then checking that his paper was the same as yours, also pretty normal. But as time progressed, he would ask you to double-check his stuff on dumb stuff like whether he grabs the 10th-grade paper or the 11th-grade paper, or what he puts in the "date" section at the top.

It's been even worse lately since he was applying for multiple colleges around the UK and US. You were doing the same, needing to desperately focus on your essays and studies to do the different school's entrance exams.

"(Y/NNNN)!" Lorenzo called out to you, despite you being literally 2 feet away from him.

"Yessss, Lorenzooooo?!" You said, giving the same energy back.

"Where it says "enter social security number" do I put my social security number?" He asks, full seriousness in his tone.

At this point in your life, you were so sick of this man so all you could do was stare at him until he decided to guess what he should do. You stare was strong, but his innocent eyes and cute face was overpowering you.

You weakly nodded, losing the one-sided battle. You thought it would be the last question from him, maybe he would get the hint you were annoyed.

"So, where it says "pick major" I put the thing I want to major in, right?"

thank you for the support ! 🐍 :: masterlist!