#my name is the same as here I think. I have no idea how steam works but I look forward to those sales burning a hole in me pocket

[legionofpotatoes]

I have indirectly returned to PC gaming after a decade of self-imposed exile cause my lifestyle meant keeping work mobile so I got myself an extremely mildly cool laptop. Add me on steam to see me do midnight hades runs and literally nothing else!

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,�� he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad @cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett @secfir @urlovelily @iknowhistouch3 @nadzzzblog @itsmina29 @mochibites00 @syazzzlisa @ash07128 @kawennote09 @merrygo14 @butterymin @cybercheesygurl @juju-227592 @lesiacapouille

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[sinofwriting]

Claiming - Charles Leclerc (Dark Fic)

Words: 1,310 Summary: In a world where F1 drivers can claim someone as a wife while at a race, here is Charles' version. Note(s): DARK FIC, this is dark. Dubious Consent/Touching (not sexual), Reader was essentially kidnapped. I will be making other fics like this for a few other drivers where they claim a wife. And thank you 🦢 anon for this idea and all your thoughts! Edit: Takes place during/after Imola 2024

Masterlist | Support Me! 

She doesn’t want to sit on the bed. She doesn’t want to be in this room. She doesn’t want him touching her. But she doesn’t want to make him angry, fears what his reaction could be, what he could do to her. So she sits at the edge of the luxurious hotel bed. Her shoulders hunching, her hands gathered in her lap, her legs pressed painfully tight together.

She’s taking up as little space as she can, but he still sits right next to her, his thigh pressing against her and she has to resist flinching.

“You are so tense.” He murmurs, his voice practically caressing her ear. The sound of it makes her release a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. And in doing so she takes in a breath, nearly becoming dizzy at the perfect smell of his cologne. “I’m sorry.” She manages to say. He clicks his tongue, running a hand up and down her back. It’s supposed to be a soothing touch and she has to force herself not to tense further. “Don’t apologize, mon ange. Would a bath help?” She eagerly nods at the suggestion, wants to weep at the idea of it.

She needs a moment alone. Ever since she was taken to Ferrari’s garage, she’s had him right there by her, never more than an arms length away. She wants to sink into scalding water and let the pain of it distract her from what has happened.

“Please.” She whispers. He smiles, pleased, and she hates that she likes the look on him. “I’ll go get it started.” She wants to protest, but he’s pressing his lips to her forehead and then standing, striding over to the bathroom. And she remains frozen on the bed, even when she hears the sound of water rushing out and hitting the tub.

When Charles comes back, he’s shirtless and she makes a noise at the sight. He gives her another pleased smile. “I prefer my baths to be very hot, so if you’d like it to be cooler, you will have to wait a few minutes.” He tells her, gesturing for her to join him and she does, letting him guide her with a hand on the back into the bathroom. Stepping inside, she lets out a shaky breath. The entire mirror is steamed up and she can see how hot the water is in the large tub. “Thank you.” “Of course.” She waits for a moment for him to leave, but he just continues to look at her, eyes half lidded, lips ever so slightly parted as he leans against the bathroom counter.

She turns away from him, tears threatening to prick her eyes, and she forces herself to breath as she reaches for the hem of her polo. As soon as it’s pulled over her head, she nearly shakes. She wants to ask him to look away, to stop watching her undress, she can feel his eyes on her. She wants to drop to her knees and beg for him to come back when she’s fully naked. She’s never gotten undressed in front of anyone. It feels intimate to do so, it feels worse somehow for him to be watching her do this.

Her bra comes off next and she can hear the sound of his breathing pick up as it drops onto the floor, the skin of her back exposed to him. She takes her underwear and pants off at the same time, thankful when her socks come off as well.

She thinks she’s supposed to turn to him, to let him get a full look at her, but the bath is right there, calling her name, the water clear, no bath bomb or bubbles to hide anything. He could get a full look at her like that.

Stepping into the bath, she shudders at the feeling of near burning hot water. It laps around her and while she normally sinks into her baths, this time she eases herself down and into the water. Her eyes closing when she is fully in and laying down, the top of her neck even a little wet.

She almost forgets that he is there, but then a hand is caressing her shoulder and this time she can’t help her flinch. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and she hates that it sounds sincere. “Scoot up for me?” Grabbing at the sill of the tub, she carefully pulls herself forward, stopping when he makes a noise. “Good girl.” He murmurs and suddenly the water rises against her and her eyes fly open when she feels the sensation of skin grazing her back and as she looks down, she sees legs on either side of her body just barely not touching her. Then hands are on her hips, gently guiding her back until her back is pressed against a naked chest and she can feel him against her. His hands move from her hips so he can wrap his arms around her.

He lets out a happy sound at contact. “Comfortable?” She forces herself to nod. “Good. Now just relax, mon ange. You’ll feel much better.”

—

She wakes up and Charles is still holding on to her, his grip tight but not bruising, so clearly keeping her there and she can’t help but cry.

She was his forever, he had claimed her, the paperwork probably already has been registered. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her family. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but it does and she has to slap a hand over her mouth.

She was never going to see her mom, have her fuss over her. Her dad was never going to call her champ, she was never going to get to eat his food again. Her grandmother and her heart aches even more. She was never going to see her grandma again, feel her hand against her cheek as she looked in her eyes, making sure that when she said of course I’m happy that she actually was. She was never going to get the family dinners with so many things being passed around it made her dizzy. The shots that everyone took if they were old enough.

She doesn’t realize it, but her whole body is shaking and it wakes the man holding her.

“Mon ange,” his voice is thick with sleep and confusion and she holds her breath. “What’s the matter?” She doesn’t say anything, her body still shaking, but she hopes her lack of response will make him think that she’s asleep. It doesn’t, his hands move around her body until he easily can turn her so she’s facing him. “Oh,” his eyes are wide, voice mournful as he sees her tears. “What happened?” She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with tears in her eyes, hand still clamped over her mouth. His brows furrow and he moves her hand away from her mouth. “What is wrong? What has you crying?” “I’m never gonna see them.” The words come out and she’s gasping for breath and his brows furrow more. “Who, mon ange?” “My family. I’m never going to see my mom or my dad. My grandma, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. I’m never going to see any of them again.” She’s sobbing and she hates that when he runs a hand over her back, trying to calm her before urging her to press her face into his chest, she does. “Of course you will.” He finally says when she’s calmed a little. The words have her pulling back, silent as she stares at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, running a finger beneath her eye to get rid of the tears still clinging there. “Of course you will see them again. They make you happy and I want to know my in-laws, after all.”

[lizzieisright]

My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

power bottom!reader x subtop!Abby

Summary: Abby comes home agitated and asks for a different way to blow off her steam.

Tags: fingering (r and abby!receiving), oral(r!receiving), strap usage(r!receiving), tribbing, face sitting, Abby has to sit and watch as a punishment, light primal play(????), cumming untouched, Abby wears a collar, reader is a little bit of a pain slut, slight degradation (no name calling), begging.

wc: 6.3k

a/n: I was this 🤏 close to writing puppy play with werewolf alpha!abby, I swear

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Abby comes home from her usual “gym rats hangout” with twitchy fingers. You've learnt to notice those things because they signal the same thing to you: Abby is in the mood. 

“Hey Abby.” You greet her from your place on the bed where you've been reading the book Abby recommended a week ago. “How did it go?”

“Pretty normal.” She answers and you note her higher than usual tone: she is not telling you the whole story. “I'm gonna go shower.”

You hum and go back to your book, giving Abby the space she needs when she lies to you about her feelings. She will come and talk eventually, so you're not anxious - Abby has a very complicated relationship with being emotionally vulnerable and you follow her pace in these moments, letting her come to you. 

Abby takes a shower and comes back in her usual joggers and a muscle tee - you ogle her as a dutiful girlfriend should and she smirks at you. 

“Nice to know I don't spend my time in the gym for nothing.” Abby chuckles and you nod, eyes following her movements until she finally collapses on top of you, putting her head on your tits. 

Abby doesn't speak but starts to draw circles on your waist and you sigh from contentment: it's nice. Abby's hands always feel nice, and you tune yourself to her mood and relax, giving her the reins: restless Abby likes being in control, likes being busy and likes to take her mood out on you. 

“Hey um- Can we try something?” This is not dom Abby's voice. Dom Abby is quiet and cold, concentrated, scary even. This Abby is soft and warm, which confuses you for a second as you come back out of your lazy bliss. 

“What's up?”

“I got so pissed at these assholes today and I really want to not think about it.” She admits and you hum again, listening to her. “But I don't want to be in charge.”

You take a second to give Abby's words more precise form in your head. She is not in her usual subby mood, her hands are still gripping you tight, so she is not talking about subbing right now, but she doesn't want to have control...

“So you want me to dom you? But you want to top the whole time?” You finally say.

“Yes.” Abby looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Can we do this?”

You take a moment to think about it. You don't let Abby touch you when you dom her because she is usually in a subspace to escape her daily responsibilities and you decided long ago to spoil her, give her space to do nothing but be pretty. So right now your brain is trying to figure out how to get Abby into subspace by making her work. Ideas pop up in your head fast, and you smile at her. 

“Come here.” 

Abby climbs up and you weave your fingers through her unbraided hair, massaging her scalp before guiding her into the kiss. 

It feels different, having Abby press you into the bed and still maintaining your control over her, but there's really no dominant bone in her body right now. Yes, her sculpted arms are caging your face on the sides, but her mouth is so fucking soft you can help but smile into the kiss. 

“You want to fuck me, princess?” You whisper into her lips and Abby nods a few times. “Use your words.”

“Please let me fuck you.” Weak, weak little baby, you think as you caress her pink cheeks while she looks at you with big eyes. “Let me, please-”

“Bring me your collar.”

Abby's eyes glaze over for a second and she rushes to get the collar and give it to you so you can put it around her neck. You fasten it quite loosely, since you got into a habit of tugging on her collar and you don't want to hurt her.

“That's my good girl.” You tell her and Abby tries to kiss you, but you stop her roughly. “Who told you you can do that?”

“I'm sorry, ma'am.” She says, but you hear her impatience, her eagerness. “Can I kiss you, ma'am? Can I?” Abby's hands are twitching by your sides as she restrains herself from touching you.

“Oh baby.” You chuckle, amused. “Not yet.” 

“Fuck.” Abby whispers to herself, desperate. “Sorry- I'll be good, I'll wait.”

This is interesting. You are so used to Abby giving you all the control, asking you to do something instead of asking if she could do something that it throws you off balance a little. But you take your time and take a breath, then tug on her collar and kiss her. 

Well, you tease her: you make Abby chase your mouth, stopping her from crossing the distance when she almost touches your lips, and you can see a small frown forming. Oh, Abby is not happy with your game. 

“Ma'am-” Abby growls and you smirk. 

“Watch your tone or go sit and watch me touch myself.” The steel in your voice quickly puts an end to Abby's antics. 

“Please, ma'am, let me touch you. I've missed you today.” 

Abby's hands hover over your thighs and you take pity on her: you guide her hands to your hips and let her squeeze them. 

Feeling Abby's hands on your body reminds you of a second reason why you don't let her touch you when you dom her: she just feels so good. Her strong fingers digging into your flesh make your thoughts go out of your head and you take another breath to collect yourself. 

“You wanna kiss me, princess?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” Abby rushes closer, a little bold, like an over excited hound who has zero discipline. She likes it, you realise. Abby likes the game, likes pushing on your buttons. She moves her face dangerously close, testing the limits, her breathing fanning your lips. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she listens, but watches you almost maniacally, tracking your every movement. 

“Oh princess, you’re really impatient.” You say, amused. “If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to earn it.” 

Abby nods.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll do whatever you want.” Abby whispers feverishly as she kneads your thighs. “I’ll be good.”

Seeing Abby so desperate but so determined makes you wet in your pants: it’s a new, more delicious kind of power trip. Abby wants to be active and do everything, but your one light touch stops her. One light touch against 5 '10 built like a brick woman who can do whatever she wants with you if she decides to - it makes you dizzy, to have so much power when Abby is not giving up hers. 

“Use this pretty mouth and make me cum, princess.” You order and Abby’s eyes go dark. She’d manhandle you usually, but right now she is looking at you, waiting for permission, even though her grip on your thighs is strong. You decide to drive her crazy even more and once again you move your face until you almost touch her lips with yours. “My good girl knows what I like, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes ma’am.”

You lick the corner of her mouth and Abby tenses, restraining herself from kissing you. You move your lips to her ear, slightly touching it, and Abby’s hold gets tighter.

“Mark me.” You kiss her under her ear. “Bruise me.” You kiss her under her chin. “Hold me down.” You murmur in a low voice right into her ear and Abby growls, really growls.

“Please, ma’am.” Abby pleads and tentatively tugs on your waistband. “I’ll make you feel so good.” 

You lift your hips up and Abby takes them off in a hurry, throwing them somewhere, not caring. You’re tempted to make her go and fold everything to tease her more, but you can’t ignore your own needs: your clit is pulsing, your skin is on fire, and you need Abby’s mouth on you. 

“Can I take your shirt off too, ma’am?” 

“Go ahead.” 

Abby’s fingers are even shaking a little as she takes your shirt off, leaving you fully naked. Her eyes are devouring you, the obsession and lust overpowering her. She doesn’t waste any time and tugs on your thighs to get you comfortable before she buries her face in your cunt, but you tug on her hair in return, moving her head away.

“What did I tell you to do?” You ask her sternly. “Don’t think just because you get to touch me you can do what you want.”

Abby kisses your thigh apologetically, grazing it with her teeth, and you pet her head. 

“That’s better.”

This is all Abby needs to latch onto your thigh and suck a bruise into your skin while you hiss and grip her hair tighter.

“Good.” You sigh, your voice breaking just a little when Abby moves to the other thigh and bites you, holds you between her teeth like a prey, sinking her canines to cause the pain she knows you like. “Yeah, good girl.”

Abby snakes her arms around your thighs and pins you to the bed - you know you won’t be able to move until she lets you, and it makes you roll your eyes from arousal. 

Abby watches you as she licks her way between your folds, opening you up - your taste weaves the moan out of her and she puts her whole mouth on you, licking and rubbing your clit as you leak on her tongue and sigh so heavy, so pretty above her. 

You look back at Abby and she looks absolutely fucking feral, her eyes trained on you like you're her prey, and you can only smirk at her tauntingly. 

“Big bad wolf, aren't you?” You mock her and grip her hair to push her further into your pussy. “I might get a leash then.” 

The grunt Abby lets out into your cunt and the hold getting tighter signals she likes the idea, and you chuckle before breaking into a moan as Abby doubles the effort and really eats you out. Her devilish tongue destroys you piece by piece, contrasting with the pain of her grip on you as she squeezes your thighs, spilling your flesh between her fingers. 

“You're doing, uh- so good, baby, fuck-” You whimper for her and Abby's brows go up in a pleading manner, as if she silently begs you to cum for her. “Add your fingers.” You order her and Abby listens right away, pushing two fingers inside you. “Fuuuuck..” 

“Can I make you cum, ma'am?” Abby asks in a low voice and you push her head back into your cunt.

“Yes-yes-yes-yes, fucking- give it to me, princess.”

There is a millisecond pause before Abby gets overpowered by her own desires, and then Abby's fingers start to curl inside you violently, almost lifting you up with the sheer force of each curl. Your moans get higher and higher until you're almost screaming on her fingers and her tongue as your orgasm builds up in geometrical progression, taking you out fully. 

You cum, gripping into Abby's hair painfully, clamping down on Abby's fingers as she continues fucking you through your orgasm, lazily rubbing your clit on her flat tongue. You feel like you just exploded, fell apart and can't find your own pieces again after what Abby just did to you. Abby sucks another hickey into your thigh and you melt into the bed, feeling high. 

“Can I get my kiss now, ma'am?” Abby asks, almost smirking at you.

“Spoiled little girl.” You murmur, but motion her to come closer. “Barely did her job and already asking for rewards.”

Abby whines quietly, her previous smug face turning into pleading one again. 

“Ma'am-” She can't argue with you, you have all the power, but Abby is desperate. “I made you cum, I was good.” She begs and you chuckle, caressing her cheek, cleaning your cum from her chin. 

“You fucked my brains out, princess.” You kiss her and Abby moans, turns into mush on top of you, opens her mouth for you, because hearing you say this almost makes her cum in her pants. 

You make out for a while, your wet hot mouth on her soft, warm one, feeling each other with your tongues. You calm down from your high, but Abby just gets more restless. She needs her energy released, she needs to burn through it, and you know exactly how she can do it. 

“Do you want to fuck me with your strap, babygirl?” You tease her, but Abby can only nod. 

“Yes, ma'am.” She gets bold again and kisses your cheek. And then she grinds against you and you can't help your surprised chuckle when you feel the hardness in her pants.

“Oh, you naughty girl. You took it to the shower, didn't you?” You can't help your smile when Abby blushes, caught, hiding in your neck.

“Ma'am, I wanna fuck you so bad.” She admits into your ear and your clit throbs. “Wanna see you cum again.” 

“You're so spoiled.” You scold her and tug her hair to make her look at you. “Straighten up.”

Abby sits up and you take her strap out of her pants, lining it up with your hole, and Abby, naive Abby, thinks she can just thrust into you, but you stop her with your other hand on her hip. Again, it's such a light touch, but it stops her immediately.

“No, you're just going to watch, greedy little girl. You're not pushing inside until I let you.” 

Abby nods and can only helplessly watch you play with yourself using her cock. You run it up and down between your folds, smearing your slick, and Abby watches it glisten in the lowlights of your bedroom. God she wants to fuck you, she wants to make you scream and leak onto the bed, she wants to hear you whimper how good she is, how good she is making you feel, but instead she watches you nudge your clit with her dick. 

You watch Abby's tortured face with a smirk, the soft silicone rubbing you just right. 

“I can cum just like this, grinding against your cock, princess.” You tell her and Abby looks at you, genuinely terrified. 

“Please, ma'am, I'll do so much better for you, I'll make you feel so much better.” She begs and you smile when her hips twitch. 

The relief Abby feels when you nudge your hole with the head of her strap is downright religious. She looks at you, waiting for permission, her fingers lightly squeezing your thighs. 

“Prove yourself, then.” 

You both moan when Abby smoothly slides inside after you coated her dick with your slick. She watches you, how you arch, how your naked body reacts to her, how your tits spill to the sides and your nipples tighten. She sees the shiver cover your skin from how good she feels inside you, and Abby can't stop herself but to go as deep as she can in your pussy. 

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby sighs, her voice trickled in lust, as she thrusts into you slowly, her hips hitting the underside of your ass. 

You moan and tug on her shirt so Abby would get closer, and then you push your fingers under her collar, wrapping them around it, and hold Abby down while she ruts into you, desperately grunting into your ear. 

“So good f’me, princess.” You sigh and then moan when she thrusts into you so hard it makes you move up on the bed, knocking the air out of you. “Fu-ah-ck, shit, you're barely holding on, aren't you?” You tease her with your broken voice and Abby growls into your neck. “Look how you're fucking me, baby. Fucking look.” You growl in return.

Abby listens and tries to move away to see properly, but you only let her go as far as looking between your bodies since you still hold her by the collar. 

“God, ma'am- you're so wet, fuck-” Abby sobs and fucks you hard and slow, hungrily watching her strap move in and out of you.

“You did it.” You say between your whimpers. “Like a good girl.”

Abby scrapes her teeth on your neck, desperate, but you tug her back so she continues watching fucking you while you moan and dig your nails into her shoulder. 

“Ma’am, fuck, please-” Abby pants and looks up. “Can I go faster? Please, I'll be good for you, I'll fuck you so good, please.” 

You pull her closer and kiss messily, feeling as feral as Abby looks right now, bite her bottom lip painfully and feel her hips snap into you in response.

“Go ahead, princess. Make me cum on your cock.” You pant into her mouth and Abby's eyes go dark. 

“Thank you, ma'am.” She tells you in her scary fucking voice and you feel like the power shifts between you for this one second. She places both of her hands by your sides for stability, and you know this is it. You're going to be destroyed. 

The first hard thrust makes you squeak and then there is no break: Abby's pace is unrelenting, her hips are strong and she uses it to her advantage, slamming into your pussy, going so deep on each thrust it becomes hard to breathe for you. You moan and whimper into her ear, scratching her shoulder when Abby hits the spot just right, but you keep holding her by the collar to make her remember who is in charge here. 

“Fuck, unnnhhh, you're so good-” You tell her and Abby looks into your eyes like she can find a proof there, like the noises she fucks out of you is not enough. 

“Thank you, ma'am.” She pants and buries her head into your neck, licking your skin with her whole tongue, lapping at your collarbones. 

You feel animalistic, like both of you are stripped down to your instincts with all growls and grunts that leave both of your throats. Abby sucks on your skin and grabs your hip painfully, pinning you down so she can move even faster, harder, making your cunt squelch with how wet she gets you. You don't cling to her - you grip like a predator grips their prey in their claws, and the desire to hurt, the same desire Abby has in her, makes you dig your nails into her throat. Abby whimpers and gently bites your shoulder, licking her bite right away to soothe you, and she feels how your walls grip her strap, not letting her pull out easily, almost with a pop - you're close, you're so close Abby can't help but moan. 

“Ma'am, would you cum for me? Please, please cum for me-” Abby says into your neck as her hips keep drilling into you: by this point she doesn't care how tight you are, she is going to keep fucking you until you cum. 

“Fuck!” You sob, every movement of Abby's cock making you open up for her. “Fuck, baby- shit, keep going, yeah?” You feel like you are about to cry: it feels so intense, your legs start to shake in anticipation. “Holy shit-” You sob and Abby looks up at you, watching your now wet face with blown out eyes and an open mouth: you look like a god to her. “Baby-”

You squeeze your eyes shut from how much you feel as your orgasm bursts out, dragging you to the pits of hell with white hot pleasure and you can't help the scream ripping from your chest. 

Abby moans involuntarily: seeing you like this while she is in subspace, while she is serving you, is goddamn holy. She feels how her own clit pulsates and the desperation takes over her.

“Ma'am, can I cum?” Abby asks you shyly while she is fucking you through your orgasm, but you barely register her voice, so overwhelmed. 

“You better, princess.” You growl and then squeak as Abby gains her speed back.

The mess of whimpers and grunts gets louder as Abby approaches her orgasm while she is watching you cry from overstimulation, feels your fingers grip her throat, listens to the best sounds in her life and this all trips her over the edge. Abby ruts into you, chasing her orgasm, and moans into your shoulder when it finally hits her. Her hips erratically slam into you and you tug on her hair: the perfect mix of pain and pleasure makes Abby see stars.

You can't help the quiet moans that leave your throat on every exhale: you're still pulsating around Abby's strap, and Abby lies on top of you, making your sensitive skin feel her everywhere, even though she is fully clothed. 

“Holy fuck.” You chuckle, surprised. “Are you okay, babygirl?”

Abby hums in agreement. 

“Tired?” You are gentle now, smoothing Abby's hair out: you don't know her limits in this.. order of things, so you're being careful. 

“No, ma'am.” Abby presses her forehead to yours and you smirk. “Whatever you want, I'll do it.” 

“Yeah? Did it feel good to cum while you fucked me?”

“Yes, ma'am. You're so beautiful when you cum.” Abby looks into your eyes, needy, definitely waiting for something. “Can I kiss you, ma'am?”

You hum and pull Abby into the kiss and she gets bold, kissing you a little too aggressively than she is supposed to, but you let her - she deserves it. She shifts her hips and the strap presses inside you, making you gasp into her mouth. Abby gets excited and presses harder, but you stop her. 

“What do you think you're doing?” 

Abby just looks at you dumbly, caught in the act. 

“Please.” That's all Abby can manage. 

“Please what?” You hold Abby's chin between your fingers, making her look at you. 

“I want to make you cum again.”

You pretend to think, but then you let Abby go. 

“Take your clothes off.” You tell her. 

Abby nods and slowly pulls out of you: you feel your hot slick dripping down your ass and it makes you smile - you like knowing how well Abby fucked you. 

“You see this, princess?” You nod at her absolutely soaked strap. “You see how good you made me feel?” 

Abby swallows, really tempted to lick the strap clean since it has your cum on it, but you asked her a question and she has to answer.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I bet your pussy is drenched as well.” You smirk and Abby blushes while she takes her clothes off. “Come here, princess, and ride my clit.” 

Abby freezes for a second, taken aback, so, “Colour?”

“Green.” Abby says in the husky voice and gets on top of you. She slots herself between your legs and- “Oh my God-” Abby gasps when she feels your hot wet cunt on herself. “Oh my god it feels so good.”

You pant as you look over Abby: her collar is loose around her neck, her hair sticks to her back and her eyes are so wide it is almost funny, and you'd have teased her for this, but Abby starts grinding on your clit and all thoughts leave your head. 

Abby's legs and glutes are strong, meaning she moves fast and hard on top of you, bumping your clits together: she slides so smoothly since you're both soaked and you moan quietly, and the idea comes to you. 

“You're not allowed to cum until I do, do you hear me?” You tell her as sternly as possible and Abby whimpers. 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

You smile at her, mean - you know between the two of you Abby always cums quicker, so you just set her up for failure. And Abby knows it as well, looking at you with pleading eyes and an open mouth as her moans leave her lungs - she hopes you'll be kind to her. But you won't. 

You try to calm down your breathing and hold off your orgasm, even though Abby is moving perfectly: she is fast and her clit brushes over your clit just right. And then you feel how Abby sneakily tries to slow down. 

“Are you tired, princess?” You ask with mock concern. 

“No ma'am.”

“Then pick up the speed and make me cum.” You tell her with the steel in her voice. 

“But ma'am, I'll cum.” Abby whines. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 

“I told you, you don't get to cum until I do. Figure it out.” 

You're being mean to her and Abby doesn't have a choice but to pick the speed again and try to not cum, even though she feels how close she is: she is already twitching when your clit touches hers just like she needs it, and it won't take long for her to fail you. 

And Abby knows you are good at punishments, so she decides to do only one thing she can:

“Ma'am, please, I can't hold it any longer, please-” You frown and slap her thigh lightly, not pleased. “Please, I'll be good, please can I cum now, I'll do anything you want, I can't- It's too much-” 

Abby is sobbing but keeps going, driving herself insane: she can't stop herself from cumming but she also can't stop moving without you punishing her and Abby feels her adrenaline going up at the thought of what you might do when she fails you. 

“Don't even think about it, princess. I said no cumming.” You growl at her and Abby is done. 

She keeps moving pathetically, riding out her orgasm and thinking you will forgive her if she just keeps going even though her clit is pulsing and her slick is dripping down on your pussy, her pace lost and erratic. You move up and grab her by her collar, letting her moan into your lips as you watch Abby ride out her high. You're pissed off and Abby gets the tingles - the fun ones when she is scared of you but she is also absolutely fucking thrilled about what is to come. 

“Oh, this is a bad, princess.” You tell her coldly. You look so calm and collected while Abby is a mess. She can feel her lower stomach quivering from the aftershocks, her hair is stuck to her body and her face is fully red. “I didn't give you permission, did I?”

“No, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am.”

“Sorry is not gonna cut it.” You snarl. “You had the audacity to cum before I was satisfied.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am. Can I make you cum? I promise I will make you feel so good.” Abby pleads, but it's to no avail. 

“No. You fucked up, you won't get to touch me until I let you. Go sit at the edge of the bed.” 

If Abby could whine like a puppy, she would. But she listens and sits where you told her. 

“Give me your strap.” 

Abby perks up with a small hope as she passes you the harness: maybe you will let her fuck you again? Maybe, at least, she will get to lick your cum from the strap? Oh Abby would give anything to just taste you right now. 

But you take the dildo out of the harness and spread your legs, showing Abby your soaked pussy. 

“Hands behind your back and spread your thighs, don't even think about touching yourself. Bad girls only get to watch.”

Abby swallows and does as she is told and just watches as you drag the dildo between your folds, smearing it with your slick.

“You see this? Your cum is all over my cunt.” Oh fuck, Abby thinks. Oh no. She will have to- “Watch how I'm going to fuck it back in and make myself cum, since you were so busy being a brat.”

Abby whines. She can't help it - she is supposed to do it. It's her job to serve you, to please you and make you feel good, and you took it away to punish her. 

“Yeah, I bet it felt nice, not listening to me.” You murmur and moan when you push the dildo inside. Abby watches how it stretches you and her fists tighten, it is supposed to be her. “Can't wait to have your cum inside me, princess. The only good thing from this.” You scoff.

Abby bites her lip to cope with what she is seeing; you pull out and rub the strap on your pussy to collect the slick on her strap just to push back in. Her cum is in you. This thought makes Abby dizzy and desperate: she really considers not listening to this order as well and just- just touch you and taste you. 

“Your cock feels so good.” You taunt her and Abby whimpers. 

“Ma'am, please! Let me do it, I'll make you cum, please-”

“Quiet.” You bark at her and Abby listens. “You don't get to ask for anything. Be grateful you get to watch.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Abby says in a small voice and quiets down. 

You relax and continue playing with yourself as if Abby is not even here - you're concentrated on your own needs right now, fucking yourself with the dildo, feeling how it rubs all over your walls, and it's not enough now. So you lick two of your fingers and put them on your clit, rubbing and flicking it the way you like, moaning when you feel yourself tighten around the strap. 

Abby is going to cry, she thinks: everything you're doing now is torturing her. She needs to be the one who fucks you and plays with your clit, it's her job. There are red crescents on her palms from how hard she is digging her nails into her flesh, and she is leaking on the bed, because you're so fucking hot. Abby can't take her eyes off you, off your perfect pussy with her cock inside, off your pretty face contorted in pleasure. 

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby blurts out, not controlling herself.

“Yeah?” You smirk. 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

You like it when Abby compliments you, but she is being punished, so you don't give her a chance to redeem herself. You start rubbing your clit faster, feeling your orgasm approaching, and Abby whimpers again: she can see it as well. She wants to beg you again, she needs to make you cum, but Abby also needs to be good, so she stays quiet and doesn't look away. Your thighs start twitching and your moans get louder now, and Abby can't sit still anymore; she almost bounces on the bed, trying to cope with the fact that you're going to cum without her. 

“Fuck, it feels so good.” You taunt her again, knowing how much it upsets her. “Oh, I'm going to cum-” You whimper when you feel the first wave of orgasm washing over you before the whole tsunami of pleasure. 

Abby is panting, her mind is empty, and she watches you again like a predator, feral eyes trained on your face: you look so good when you cum. 

Tsunami hits you and you moan deeply, frozen in place as your cunt pulsates around Abby's strap. Abby doesn't even breathe, waiting for you to come down from your high. She tries her best to be good and patient for you, and you notice it. Abby is damn near tears, but she is still sitting like you told her to, and she is being quiet as well, waiting for you. You feel like this is enough for her and motion her to come to you when your high subsides. 

Abby is super fast as she climbs on top of you, getting comfortable between your legs again. 

“Hi, baby.” You tell her in a sweet voice and Abby buries her nose in your neck, squeezing you in her arms. “You did so well, sat through your punishment like a champ.” 

“Thank you, ma'am.” 

“Do you want to stop?”

Abby looks borderline hurt at your suggestion, and you laugh kindly.

“I’ll take it as a no.” You caress her cheek gently. “Well, since you’ve been so good, I suppose you can choose how you want to fuck me, princess.”

Abby moans at your words - she is so greedy she can’t pick an option right away, she can’t believe her luck! 

“Sit on my face.” Abby says in a low voice that faintly reminds you of her dominant side, but she quickly remembers her place. “Please.”

“Lie down.”

Abby listens and watches impatiently how you get up and swing your thigh over her chest, your soaked pussy so close to her face she feels how her own cunt pushes more slick onto the sheets. 

“Hold me down and leave bruises.” You gasp when Abby immediately wraps her strong arms around your thighs and pulls you down, making you sit on her face. “Good girl.”

Abby moans into your pussy and opens her mouth wide, as if she is really trying to eat you, and you relax in her grip - the pain from her fingers digging into your hips is mixed with the pleasure from her soft flat tongue and you feel amazing. And Abby is so eager, she eats you out feverishly, watching your every movement. Abby needs to make you cum, to hear you choke on your own moans, but right now you only make these quiet breathy moans - so she sucks on your clit and you twitch, overstimulated. Abby grins into your pussy and you frown.

“Oh, you wanna play games, princess?”

And then it’s Abby’s turn to twitch because you push two fingers into her and curl them. 

“Don’t you dare to cum before me again.” You growl at her and Abby mewls pathetically, tugging you even harder, pinching your thighs when you curl your fingers and hit her sweet spot. You whimper, getting high on pain-pleasure equilibrium, and all hell breaks loose. 

Both of you can’t stop your moans, and everything becomes a chain reaction where you fuck your fingers into Abby and Abby drags her tongue over your clit, sucking and rubbing it while her hands try to break your bones with the force she is holding you down. Your thighs are suffocating her, but she is in heaven: you’re all around her, all she smells, tastes, feels and hears - it’s only you. This is how it is supposed to be: Abby under you, serving you, making you feel good like no one, not even you, can.

“Fuck, baby, just like that-” You choke on your moan and Abby moves her hands to your hip junctions, keeping you in one place as her tongue fucks you like you need her to. “Yes, princess.” You hiss and buck your hips into her mouth, but the iron grip she has on you doesn’t let you. 

You keep curling your fingers inside her and Abby closes her thighs around your hand, trying her best to concentrate on you and not cum before you do, but your pace doesn’t falter even when your voice breaks and your hips twitch. Abby concentrates on your puffy, warm cunt and listens to your moans - but it seems to only work against her, spiking her arousal even more, bringing her closer to the inevitable. 

“You are tightening on me.” You smirk and thumb at her clit, making Abby’s hips jump. “You’re gonna cum when I cum.” You manage to tell her and then there are only moans and whimpers as Abby sucks your clit. 

And then she gently grazes her teeth over it and your climax hits you suddenly; Abby eases her grip on you, letting you ride her tongue while you moan and whine for her. You feel how her cunt sucks your fingers in and Abby is such a mess now, cumming on your fingers while you use her face to prolong your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” You whimper and sit on her chest, looking at Abby’s red wet face as she keeps moaning. “Came with me like I told you to, good fucking girl.”

You take your fingers out and Abby makes eye contact with you when you suck your fingers clean. 

“Oh god-” Abby sighs pathetically. “Fuck, ma’am.”

You chuckle, still riding your high, but you find your strength to move and lie next to Abby, petting her head gently with your shaking hand.

“You want to cuddle, princess?”

“I wanna hold you.” You are surprised, but you go back on top of her and Abby wraps her arms around you, caressing your back. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, princess.” You gently kiss her shoulder and then her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. High.” Abby chuckles. “Thank you. It was amazing.”

“You did amazing, baby. I’m proud of you.” You kiss Abby gently, feeling her whole mouth, trying to show her all the love you have for her.

“You got so pissed at me.” Abby grins and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"Was it too much?"

"I think if you want to punish me again like this, you'll have to tie me down. I almost broke, wanted to fuck you so bad." Abby murmurs and you kiss the marks on her throat. "Does anything hurt?"

You're surprised once again - usually you ask this question, but given the circumstances...

"Deliciously." You murmur into Abby's lips and kiss her again.

"We need to get a leash." Abby says suddenly and you snort.

"Yeah, we do."

[chimielie]

got no shame (i love the way you’re screaming my name)

summary: Terushima x Reader. got shame? terushima doesn’t.

word count: 1.6k

cw: terushima’s a slut (who is domesticated unknowingly by reader), bad group project etiquette, general unwiseness.

a/n: this… wasn’t supposed to be this long. essentially nothing happens. it’s completely sfw even though i call terushima a slut. sorry

"Hi," you say brightly, setting your laptop down on the desk next to your assigned project partner. "I was thinking we could set up—"

"Yeah, hang on," he—Terushima, according to the instructor's sign-up sheet—interrupts you. "Hey. Hey. Can I get your number?"

You open your mouth before you realize he's talking to the girl behind you, who agrees as easily as he'd asked. They chat a little while longer, taking their sweet-ass time before he turns back to you and she to her partner.

"So I was thinking we could set up a shared document and do this all online," he says, unapologetic, a lazy grin playing on his mouth. You decide then and there that you hate Terushima Yuuji with everything you have in you.

Miraculously, you survive the group project (with the aid of remote work, aggressively polite wording, and a lot of pep talks from your friends). He should be thankful he survived, you think darkly, casting a glare at him as he chatters to a group of friends across the room. He doesn't know how many times you got through class by imagining wrapping your hands around his neck and just—

Anyway.

You're half-convinced the universe sent him to fuel you with inner rage, because even though you no longer have to work together, he just seems like he's cropping up... everywhere.

He's in the grocery, flirting with the attendant as he struggles with the self-checkout machine. He's in your favorite coffee shop, hanging over the bar while the barista makes your drink. He's even at the parties you go to, his loud laugh penetrating your buzz until you can't think of anything else by the end of the night.

You toy with the idea of accusing him of stalking you, except he'd made it abundantly clear upon your first meeting that he had no clue that you existed on the same earthly plane as him. Plus, at this point, you're slightly worried that it's the other way around.

(You try not to think about the time you'd been lying alone in bed, a little bit wine drunk from a self-care night, legs freshly lotioned, face freshly masked, and one of his social media accounts had happened to pop up on your screen. And your finger had happened to bump the screen and hit follow. And before you could process your actions enough to undo your mistake, a little notification had rung out in the horrified silence: @teru-yuuji followed you back!)

(You had rolled over and screamed into your pillow. You still do the same whenever you think about it too long.)

Anyway, he likes all your updates now, which is terribly annoying because it's not even an acknowledgement of your existence, probably, he probably swipes through everyone's profiles and sends little hearts flying haphazardly because he doesn't care about anyone, or anything. And maybe you can recognize that you're projecting a little bit, obsessing a little bit, but you're pretty sure that you're also starting to experience the same sort of revenge glow-up associated with terrible break-ups without any of the emotional pain, so who cares?

It's not like he knows you're even alive.

"I'm going to die out here," you say out loud, to no one, "and nobody will know."

Your car, steaming—smoking really, but you're trying to be positive—beside you on the side of the road, makes a strange noise in sympathy, and you jump.

In a sorely needed attempt to touch grass, you had ventured by yourself to one of your favorite hiking trails, a secluded spot you and your old car had journeyed to hundreds of times. Its small frame was perfect for the winding, mountainous roads; its engine, apparently, not so much.

Luckily, you still have one bar of cell service, except most people you know don't have a car, your best friend is at work, and when you try to call your father, he doesn't pick up and instead texts you: we went to lunch at this tiny restaurant! This is followed by several images that won't load but that are most likely of his food.

"Useless," you say, "I hate men." Just as a white, tricked-out, and worst of all, familiar car turns the corner, all of its windows down to enjoy the fresh air. You stare at its driver as he passes at about ten kilometers per hour, your eyes wide and despondent, his curious and probably devoid of actual human consciousness.

You momentarily contemplate running the opposite direction into the forest versus asking Terushima for help. As is his way, he interrupts.

"Is your car supposed to be doing that?"

Anything snarky, sassy, or otherwise bitchy you could have answered with dies on your tongue in the face of total, completely confident cluelessness.

"No?" You say, feeling almost as though you're witnessing this absurd interaction from above. "Obviously not?"

"Right," he nods, sliding awful, trendy sunglasses off his face and tucking them up into some compartment before putting his car in park and then exiting. As he advances, you note distantly that his eyes are really, really pretty. "Can I help you out? I am a man, though, just a warning."

He heard you. Great.

"I didn't notice," you say, staring firmly at his middle torso area, which is covered by a shirt which he has cut the arms off of. There are... shoulders, and arms, toned, tan arms showing. And he must have just gotten back from a hike of his own, because the material seems slightly damp with sweat, and it's sticking to what appear to be abs, and you suddenly feel like your car: overheated and broken down. "I guess I can forgive you for that. Just this once. If there's anything you can actually do about," you wave a hand at your car, which has thankfully stopped smoking, "that."

"I can give you a ride," he says, and doesn't seem to realize how completely his tone changes as he does, how his words suddenly sound layered and intimate and... You need to get a grip.

“I have a friend on the way,” you say. You don’t. But he’s still technically a strange man and you know better than to seem completely abandoned.

“Oh? Good,” he says, and you think that’s the end of it. He’ll leave you to your beforested demise. “Can I check the hood real quick, though?”

“Do what you want.” He waits for you to pop the hood—you had earlier, but fuck if you knew what you were looking at.

"Thanks, babe," he says, and you hate him all over again. Then he opens your hood, muscled arms stretching up as he latches the strut in place, bent at the waist ever so slightly, and you're sort of collapsing into a very emotionally confused puddle on the side of the road. "Aw, I think your fan is fucked. I have a buddy I can call, he can tow the car if you want? He’s a mechanic but he can take it to your usual person if you have one.”

"That would be really nice," you blink at him, feeling your mouth stretch into a smile without your permission. "Do you think we could call him now? I don't want to leave my car without being sure someone's coming for it."

"Sure," he nods enthusiastically. "Gimme a sec."

What follows is a bizarre five minutes where Terushima paces in front of where you've seated yourself cross-legged on the road, occasionally casting you furtive glances and muttering things like "Yeah, from the... Yeah, that one. Please, bro, I'll owe you... I'll get you Miwa's number. I promise. When have I ever... Okay, fair, but c'mon. Thank you. I'll give you our first-born."

You tune him out after that, fully baffled.

"Okay!" He finally turns to you, beaming a sunny smile you've never seen on him at you. "He's coming. I sent you his website and shit, so you know he’s real."

“He’s not," you say, holding out a hand so he can help you up. He does, and you immediately regret this decision, because he's standing so close, and his hand is really big in yours, and you're pretty sure you're flirting with him. "You’re crazy."

"You’re funny," he says, and laughs, clear and ringing. He’s flirting with you, but you can’t tell if that’s just his natural dialect or if he’s— "So your boyfriend’s coming to pick you up? Why didn’t he come with you?"

"I don’t need a chaperone," the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, which is becoming a worrying pattern. "And I don’t have one—a boyfriend, anyway. I was on the phone with my dad when you showed up, you know, ‘I hate men’. Or trying. He's too excited about grand opening discounted fried fish."

"Fried fish is important," he says solemnly, eyes literally twinkling, what the fuck. You didn’t think that was real. "I understand."

“See,” you roll your eyes, “This is why I hate men.” He’s looking at you with a soft gaze that makes you aware of your whole body, down to your toes, and it’s starting to make you flustered. “I, um, I actually don’t have a ride coming.”

“Then why’d you—” he starts.

“I thought you might murder me,” you shrug. “And then I panicked. You don’t seem like a murderer, and we’ve had classes together, so… I’m sorry about that.”

“So,” he looks hopeful, in a way you don’t understand. “You still need a way back?”

“I do,” you nod, “but seriously, if it’s an inconvenience at all, I really don’t want to—”

“Please,” he says. “I’ve been trying to get on your good side for a while. Let me take you home.”

[tadpolesonalgae]

Shared Camomile[*]

Elain x fem!reader

synopsis: after months of practically living together, Elain finally broaches the topic she’s been longing to share with you. You’re reluctant, doubtful, nervous. Two females? That can’t be right. So Elain takes it on herself to go out into her little garden to find something to help convince you of what you should already know. That you’re hers. 

a/n: cannot believe it’s taken this long for me to write something like this for Elain

warnings: use of an aphrodisiac/love potion from Elain, technically dubcon, smut, facesitting, fingering, pussy eating, squirting, fluff for my favourite girl 🩷🧡💛

word count: 3,662

“What?” You ask, perplexed, tilting your head slightly before your lips are stretching in a wide smile, cheeks aching as they flush with laughter. “Move in together? You are funny Elain.” 

Dark, rich cocoa eyes blink at you quietly from across the table, her burnished gold hair hanging in full ringlets, spilling over her shoulders while small coils of silky hair quirk and twist over her brow. Between you is a cooling tray, holding the berry tarts you’d spent the morning lovingly making, flour-dusted aprons doing little to prevent the powdery mess from puffing into the air and dusting the fabric of your dresses. The smell is delicious, able to pick out the distinct citrus of the lemon and orange, the pleasant apricot and sweet blackberry, each held within a circle of thick, crispy pastry, golden-brown on its crust and slightly flaky. 

“Do you really find it so absurd?” She asks, a touch fainter than before, and you think you catch a look of hurt across her pretty features. You blink, caught off guard by her expression—you’d thought it a joke. “I…” you fumble briefly, unsure of yourself. “Is it…normal for two women to live together in the human lands?” You ask tentatively. “I had understood it was much the same as it is here, from how you’d spoken about…” She nods her head faintly, neither of you particularly wanting to mention the name of her past human lover. 

“No, you’re right,” she says softly, glancing down over the tray of delicious pastries, still steaming slightly with heat, their centres looking soft and slightly more liquid than they should. Once they’re cool, they’ll possess a more jam-like consistency—a little thicker, and less prone to spilling down one’s front after a bite. “But folk seem more content here. Happy to let people love,” Elain says, warm brown eyes raising to yours, her long lashes fluttering slightly with nerves that only fae eyes could pick out.  

“Besides,” she continues, standing straighter, fingers splaying across the kitchen counter, “you spend so much time in this house, with me, that nothing much would really change…” 

“Yes, but don’t you think people might get the wrong idea?” You counter. It’s a nice idea—lovely, even—but nice things aren’t always possible to have. Elain inclines her chin a little, “and what would be the wrong idea, in this case?” 

Your brow furrows. “That we’re lovers,” you reply, before wincing. “Not that two females loving each other in that way is wrong,” you swiftly amend, “just that, that’s not what it would be for us. People would get the wrong impression.” 

“You don’t…” Elain begins faintly, watching you as if in a daze, before shaking her head, the pretty, dark gold ringlets jostling with the motion. “Maybe we should have this conversation another time. In the evening, when we’ll have longer for a deeper discussion.” 

Elain smiles a little, a familiar softness to her features, and you can’t help the one that spreads across your mouth in reply. 

“Tea?” She offers. 

You nod, happy to accept whatever strange new herbal concoction she’ll serve you.

————

You swallow thickly, reaching for the glass of chilled, crystal-clear water on the small table, speckles of condensation fogging up its sides, small droplets gathering before trickling down over your hot fingers. 

You drink deeply, but it doesn’t seem to help with the warmth that’s been steadily accumulating within your body. The house shouldn’t be this hot, and yet you find yourself reaching to undo another button on your blouse, enough that if anyone else were accompanying you in the parlour, they would have an ample view of the lace peaking out from beneath the soft fabric of your shirt. 

Anxiously, you rearrange yourself in the large armchair, the circular, hand-embroidered pillows being removed from behind you, and tossed onto the long sofa in the hopes you’ll feel a bit cooler. Quilts hang over the back of each chair, so as to keep warm in the evenings during winter, but as it currently stands you can hardly bear to look at them without a wave of heat washing through your body. 

Taking another deep drink, you attempt to refocus your mind on the little botanical book you’d picked up from Elain’s night-stand a few days ago, steadily leafing through it while your friend works outside in her garden, watering plants, repotting small flowers, and so on. Usually you find yourself sitting in one of the hanging chairs—circular seats woven like bird nests, inlaid with pillows and cushions to prop up one’s back, allowing the user to rock faintly on the comfy swing—watching as the burned-orange of the sun spills over Elain as she works. It’s a pleasant routine the two of you enjoy during the warmer months, while most things are blooming, branches hanging heavy with fruits that’re full and bursting with juice, vibrant petals that unfurl in bright clusters of colour and aroma. 

Instead you’d retreated for the time being, having thought the evening haze was somehow getting to you more than usual, wanting to slink into the relative coolness of the indoors until the heat had passed and you could return. But it hadn’t passed, and you’re really considering undoing another pearly button. Considering hiking your skirts a little higher too, despite the almost sheer fabric. 

————

Elain glances up from the gardening bed, noting how far the sun has descended in the sky, the lengthening of the shadows. 

You’d disappeared a little over an hour ago, mumbling about wanting to cool off, and Elain would guess you’ll likely be wanting to strip the clothes from your body about now. She glances away briefly, a hot flush overcoming her cheeks, the smallest tinge of guilt in her heart. But ultimately it’s harmless, she assures and reassures herself, it’s not like she’s doing something you truly would hate her for. She’s just…bringing to the surface what already exists. Hurrying along the blossoming of a flower by nurturing and nourishing it correctly. 

You’ll be blooming for her in no time. 

You likely already are. 

Elain tugs the fullness of her lower lip between her teeth at the thought. 

She’s no stranger to these mental images, and has grown rather comfortable with them over the years. But she’s tired of having to fight them off, of feeling the slightest ounce of shame in her heart when she’s failed, and has had to look you in the eyes the next morning, knowing yours are the eyes she came to. Your nose, your mouth, your features she’d pictured…your scent she’d tried to imagine…your sex she’d…

Elain shakes her head, raising from the gardening bed. Inside you’re probably melting like a toffee left in the summer’s sun, dripping sticky sweetness for her plunge her tongue into. All she needs to do now is to stop by the washroom to clean her hands, then she can go see how your body is reacting to the sweet ambrosia plant she’d been carefully nurturing these past few months. Reacting to the sun dried leaves she’d crushed up to make a tea out of. 

She can practically taste you already. 

————

You hadn’t realised how far you’d spiral when you’d started. 

Hadn’t realised how deeply the heat would numb your mind when you’d fumbled your way to the sofa on shaky legs, and laid yourself across its plush length.

Hadn’t realised how exposed you would be when you’d rolled onto your side, plucking a cushion up, and shyly placing it between your thighs, starting off with small rolls of your hips before your movements became more languid. 

Now your hair is messy, silky locks having separated from your up-do, baby strands curling at your temples and the nape of your neck. A few more pearly buttons have been popped out, leaving you in the thin white vest you’d donned this morning beneath your dress, and your skirts have pooled around your waist. 

Still you’re too hot, feeling the dampness that’s gathered along your spine, the slight perspiration between and beneath the swell of your breasts and you could cry from the discomfort. If you could only remove your clothes entirely, then maybe you’d feel an ounce of relief…but what if Elain finds you? A fresh wave of heat splashes over you, and you think a moan slips out, burying your face in the pillow you’re resting on. You need to take your clothes off…you’re going to overheat if you keep like this… 

With trembling fingers and weakened muscles you manage to sit up enough to tug the material from your body, the skirts further mussing your hair as they caress over your shoulders. As soon as you can you’re flopping back into the cushioning, panting as you reposition the pillow between your thighs, shifting so the seam is pressing flush with your heat…but your underwear is still in the way…

You whine faintly.

You just want relief…

“Are you—…” 

Your half-lidded gaze meets a fully dilated set of cocoa, a deep, apricot flush on her sugar-powdered cheeks. 

Fresh heat licks across your skin, a soft moan dragging from your lips as your body melts over the sofa. Heavy pants spill from your mouth as you gaze at her, lids fluttering faintly in your attempts to keep watching her. Elain would be perfect…the perfect shape, the perfect feel, the perfect heat to soothe your own… Elain can fix this. 

“E…Elain…” you call out, trying to push yourself up into a sitting position, keeping the pillow flush between your thighs. “Elain…please…” 

Her mouth opens as if to speak, but she can’t find her words, her feet tipping into motion as she’s carried silently across the floor until she’s reached you. “What…—” But you cut her off when you reach for her, fingers linking with her own pristine set, squeezing her lightly. “Elain,” you cry softly, “please… Please, I need…” 

You watch a little fearfully as her lips tug up at the corners, her eyes still wide with infatuation, transfixed on the lithe motions of your form, the way your hips glide over the cushion in attempts to feel some kind of friction. 

“What do you want?” She asks lowly, hunger in her usually sweet eyes, and you could cry. You are crying. “You…!” You beg softly, gripping her tighter, “you, Elain. Please!” She hums with faint amusement, settling lower to the floor so you’re at eye level. “How?” She asks gently, watching you with a leisure that’s not at all appropriate for the undercurrent of energy that’s simmering beneath your skin.

“Hotly. Messily,” you plead, trying to pull her closer, “immediately.”

“Hmm? But we aren’t lovers?” She points out, still smiling faintly, hungry warmth curving her full mouth. Full, berry-coloured lips that you bet would taste far better than any of the tarts on the counter. You don’t know how to respond to that other than with a desperate, pleading look, squeezing her hand beseechingly, inclining your head to shyly offer your mouth. 

Her eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters as she leans forward, dark golden ringlets of hair teasingly brushing against your unfairly sensitive collar bones, lips grazing your own. “What do you want?” She repeats softly, quieter than a breath, able to feel each syllable over your mouth. “Elain,” you answer in return, fingers trembling, so close to getting what you need. 

You feel the flutter of her lashes against your cheek, the ticklish fan of breath across your lips as she laughs softly, before gently setting her mouth atop your own. 

A hot tear escapes down your cheek, hips winding over the soft cushion as she rests over you, and you shyly press back, curving up into her as you incline your chin, heart fluttering in your chest wildly at the intimacy. 

“You want some more, don’t you?” She asks when she’s pulled away, and you nod desperately, more than a little out of it, with the flush that’s heating your body, the arousal that’s softening your limbs. “Alright,” she murmurs, still with that strangely wicked smile on her lovely lips, “but keep still.” 

You whine when she pulls away, then shut up when she begins disrobing herself, leaving her bare save for the underwear clinging to her hips, perfectly matching your own state of undress. “What do you think?” She asks lightly, both her arms pulled back from her chest, hands likely wrapped together at her back, allowing you to take her in. Your eyes nearly roll, needing her to put her body on you now, needing to kiss her again, to touch her and taste her. “Let me taste you…” you beg without thinking, causing her flush to deepen, parting the stance of her delicate feet ever so slightly. 

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” she replies softly, undeniable arousal rolling from her body, perfuming the room with a scent like vanilla, but slightly muskier, slightly heavier. It smells delicious. Like something you’d delight in having in your mouth. 

Elain smiles at your dazed expression, before dipping her fingers slowly beneath the band of her underwear, liking how your hips take on a more urgent wind over the pillow, still so desperate as the tea works its properties into your bloodstream, short-circuiting your mind to bring out your basest desires. 

“You want a taste?” Elain recalls, and you whine when you pick up the wet noises coming from between her thighs, how her arousal becomes more concentrated, and you nod your head. “Please, Elain,” you moan breathlessly, “come closer…” 

“I’ll come where I like,” she replies, making your spine arch.

“Please,” you beg, “come over here.” 

It seems she finally takes pity on you, slowly making her way over to you. Your eyes flutter lightly when her fingertips brush hair from your face, the ones with her arousal on brushing teasingly across your lips, and you part them needfully for her. Tipping upward into her touch, so, so, desperate for more. Elain reads that in your expression, and smiles. “If I let you have a taste,” she murmurs, fingers pressing a little closer to your mouth, so close to slipping inside, “you think it might be nice if you stayed?” 

You nod dimly, staring up at her pretty, cocoa-coloured eyes. 

“Answer me, sweet pea,” she instructs.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper back. 

Elain smiles fully, and the moment feels so right it’s almost enough to take you out of the haze. But then she’s carefully swinging a leg over you, her lovely back turned so she can peer down your body, and for the first time that evening you’re aware of your mouth watering. “I knew you’d come round to it,” she says breathlessly, her thighs trembling slightly with adrenaline and anticipation. After all this time she’s so close to having you—it’ll no longer be restricted to her dreams, or her fantasies. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

“Elain,” you beg, lips feeling numb and tingly, just so desperate to be entirely swept away by her fragrance, her feel, her flavour. “Elain, please…” you breathe, staring longingly between her parted thighs, able to arrange just how well she’ll fit over your face. 

“Alright, sweet thing,” she murmurs, fingers tracing across your stomach, feeling across the soft expanse as if she’s studying new land under her jurisdiction, brushing the band of your underwear. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

Thoughts and words are obliterated away as she settles over you, the heat of her soft skin feeling so right and familiar, and your eyes slide shut in pleasure. In a far away part of your conscious, your body raises its hands to slide over her thighs, slinking over her hips to pull her flush to your mouth, able to feel the dampness of the fabric against your nose and lips, and—Gods she’s perfect. 

Elain’s fingertips teasingly trace over your abdomen, watching how tiny muscles flutter and contract beneath her ticklish touch, gently prying the pillow away from between your thighs to make room for her own hands. She swallows heavily, spine curving as she experimentally shifts her hips over you, revelling in the press of your mouth and nose against her heat. 

“Open your mouth,” she breathes, fingers trembling as they push your underwear away, licking her lips as she spots the gleaming threads of slick that are webbing between the wet fabric and your wetter cunt. You don’t respond, and she blinks, shifting her hips to glance over her shoulder—your eyes are closed, and she can feel the heat radiating from your body, the absolutely blissed out expression on your features. Her heart fumbles, and she decides to let you enjoy yourself for the moment—her pleasure is secondary to your own. 

“That’s it, sweet girl,” she says instead, palm cupping your bare heat, feeling your hips buck into her hand at the promise of stimulation. “Lay back and enjoy it,” she goads, running her fingers over your cunt, pressing lightly at your clit, feeling how a pulse of pleasure passes through you at the light touch alone. “So lovely and wet—is this all for me?” 

A shiver of pure pleasure drips down her spine at the deluded moan you breathe onto her cunt, thighs parting as she languidly rolls her hips over you, shuddering with blissful exuberance at the feel of your mouth and nose pressing so delightfully against her. Enough so that she raises them just enough to vanish the fabric away, before gently reseating herself atop of you, taking a moment to bask in the intimate feel. The strangely territorial feel as she winds her hips, knowing your nose, lips, and chin will be gleaming with her arousal. Hers. 

Biting her lip, she spreads your legs wider, rolling the pads of her fingers over your clit carefully, guessing how sensitive the ambrosia plant tea will have made you. And she’s completely right. Rewarded with a lovely whimper that causes her skin to prickle, storing away the small noise and already thinking what she can do to make you repeat it. 

“Do that again,” she asks, fingers running down over your wet cunt, light and teasing in her touch, tauntingly circling your entrance, feeling as you try to suction her deeper, tightening around nothing. You release a whine, and Elain smiles faintly, cupping one of her breasts as she thumbs across the peak, soothing their sensitivity as her head tips back from the relief. “That’s it,” she encourages, “all you need to do is keep making those sounds for me okay? Keep telling me what you like, how you’re feeling. Don’t try to hide them from me.” 

You moan loudly when her fingers sink inside of you, two gently plying you apart, pumping and curling while the heel of her palm glides across your gleaming clit, hips bucking needfully up into her hand as your arousal begins to be satiated. “Elain…” you moan without reason, simply unable to think of any other noise to make as her heavenly scent filters into your lungs, spreads through your body, following your instincts to open your mouth, and lick. 

Elain’s spine curves, a moan spilling from her lips as you softly apply yourself, tongue flattening over her clit, swiping up through her centre to kiss at her entrance, feeling dizzy from the eroticism of laying your mouth over such an intimate part of her. Feeling her coat your mouth like a lip gloss. You’d wear her every chance you could get. 

“That’s it…” she moans, fingers rubbing against a spot inside of you, and your arms coil over her pretty hips, pulling her flush against your face, making out with her pussy to hear more of those sounds, taste more of her flavour, have more of her coating you like she owns you. 

Elain sighs contentedly, hips rocking over your mouth before she’s dipping down, and you cry out onto her when her tongue swipes across your clit, thighs shaking with the sensitivity—how she licks through your centre, circling and suckling the apex of your thighs while her fingers are working you so well. The pressure she’s creating around your clit, her scent in your lungs and her taste in your mouth, the hot, feminine weight of her over your lips partnered with the delightfully full press of her fingers, how they curl against spots even you hadn’t know you had, her tongue licking at your clit, saliva mixing with your slick…so messy… 

You cry out as you come, and Elain gasps as you squirt, surprised as the liquid arcs from your pretty cunt. Her lips part on the surprised inhale, before she’s being driven by hunger, sealing her mouth over you entirely, tasting as much of you as she can, working her wonderfully wicked tongue to draw out your orgasm, the orgasm that belongs to her.

She feels it as she’s tipped over the edge, at last pulling away from your overstimulated cunt to spread her thighs wider and grind over your mouth, dragging her clit over the hot swell of your tongue, her eyelids fluttering with pleasure and all she can think about is getting to turn around and put her mouth over your own. Which is exactly what she does, before the aftershocks have even completely faded, tasting herself on your lips and tongue, flicking against the roof of your mouth as she presses her body closer to you, thigh now pressing between your own, feeling a strange sense of pride as you grind against her, wanting more so desperately. 

Elain can tell from your scent alone you’ll be needing much more than just one orgasm to get you past the herbal-induced heatwave she’s subjected you to. 

And she’s more than delighted to help you see each and every wave through to the end. 

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[nitrowyverine]

Finally played the TOUCHSTARVED Demo! Still thinking about it over a week later.

(Above: Steam banner image for TOUCHSTARVED from Red Spring Studios)

I love it SO MUCH. and i have QUESTIONS. my extended thoughts below the cut [Demo spoilers included]

General thoughts:

this game is SO up my alley that it's insane. local goth gaming nerd is kicking their feet and giggling

the music? and sound design? It's honestly incredible, even beyond the infamous Every Time We Touch cover (Which is how I found this game). We all have to be giving more props to the music/sound work, it absolutely punches the experience up so many notches. When a soundtrack is released I'm immediately keeping it on hand for all my tabletop needs

absolutely enamored with the backstory mechanic. It adds so much individual depth to the character. you can feel attached to your MC without them being a complete blank slate. I absolutely love that different MC backstories have you pick up different details about the characters. (My favorite is The Hound immediately picking out who the leaders are amongst the group, in contrast to the other MC backgrounds)

I wanna eat the backgrounds. I wanna eat them whole. They're so detailed and colorful and have a great sense of depth. 100000/10

Specific character thoughts/theories:

(Images courtesy of the Touchstarved character Lore posts from the Red Spring Studio socials. I'll be linking them in each of the character's names)

Ais:

Thank you, Red Spring studios, for blessing the players with the ability to bite him if you're an ass to him the entire demo. You truly know what we want

Lore seems to indicate that Ais came over from the demon realm for some unknown reason, and was possibly some kind of demon king or leader? Fascinated to learn what happens there

Ngl the Seaspring looks like it would taste good. My favorite raspberry/rhubarb tea looks just like the Seaspring water. Gimme the group juice.

Question: If Ais gets infected with MC's madness....does that mean. the WHOLE groupmind gets infected? Humans and soulless alike? That's a city-destroying disaster waiting to happen

CONCLUSION: Most likely to adopt 6 dogs instead of picking up the groceries. Least likely to let you have the car aux cable.

Kuras:

I do believe Kuras is the actual best shot at a cure/treatment of all candidates. Assuming the curse is some level of demonic, an angel's touch is probably the best bet.

Let me be clear here though, I do think he might just go "Well you can just like. not have arms" and take them. That is a possibility

Most of the other characters I can get a rough idea of what they want and why. Kuras? I have NO idea what his goal is, which is very frightening.

Twitter bio image does say "Repentant Angel", and that his fatal flaw is "his sins can only be repaid through suffering". Possible linkage to Lovent's fall? Or another major disaster?

its okay sweaty we all get The Guilt (tm)

If Kuras somehow gets MC's maddness (I have a feeling it may not effect him? but if it did) that would just. end the world right there.

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be the one guy you might be able to bring home to your parents. Least likely to put on oven mitts to take a frozen pizza out of the oven.

Vere:

I love Vere for being the character I thought I could trust the least, turning into a character I actually trust allot. I trust him to be extremely dangerous. He probably wasn't lying when he said his heart is on his sleeve.

Also, big props for having him just kill you in one of the demo endings. What a guy, I love him, no notes

Wait what he's over 100 according to his birthday post. thats, allot? older? than I thought?. okay yeah the lore posts mention he's a possible deity figure. not comforting

Vere is very fae-logic coded. Like, the words he says can be true and false at the same time. Don't tell him your name, he will cannibalize you for fun, etc etc ya know fae stuff.

i will protect him always

CONCLUSION: Most likely to fuck your dad. Least likely to be your new stepdad.

Mihn:

Mihn is much dodgier than the rest, but I think that makes them more trustworthy. They're not as interested as playing games.

I nominate Mihn as a secondary protagonist, since Leander, Ais, and Kuras seem to be interested in them quite a bit. Even Vere has a rivalmance kinda thing going for Mihn. If MC didn't show up, that would be the dating sim right there

I'm excited by the lore post and the implications that Mihn is from Lovent (or has traveled there? and survived?) and potentially getting greater lore expansion about the world surrounding Eridia

I think it's interesting that their strength stat is relatively low compared to the others, yet they're one of the characters that actually uses their strength in the demo.

Also, I think we see the least of their "monstrous form" of everyone in the demo (minus their ability to dodge in and out of shadows). I'm thrilled to see what their monstrous form actually entails.

Mihn would survive bloodborne. That's it thats the entire thought

CONCLUSION: Most likely to do all the work in a group project. Least likely to be chill during Mario Party.

Leander:

OKAY ALL OF MY QUESTIONS ARE HERE. I AM DEEPLY AFRAID. Something is absolutely wrong but we have no current ability to pinpoint what it is.

I've seen theories Leander is dead. However, in Vere's route, he mentions that Leander smells like aftershave. While this could be part of an extra-elaborate ruse, hair doesn't grow after death (Minus the appearance of it happening due to natural decay processes) so he wouldn't need to shave. However, I am betting on him being involved in some sort of un-death cycle.

actually I can guarantee his story is all about cycles. Has anyone else mentioned how his belt is the triple goddess symbol.

you know. the symbol of maiden/mother/crone. birth/life/death. beginning/middle/end. like

Moving on, the vast majority of his smiles are forced (Mouth is smiling, but there's no eye movement/crinkle that would indicate it's genuine). That is enough of a red flag but honey I am so much more worried about my next point:

WHERE DOES HE GET HIS MONEY. He's constantly buying rounds of drinks for a packed bar. It's briefly mentioned his clothes are nice. He pays for anything MC needs. However, says Bloodhound rates are "Free". Where does he GET HIS MONEY for all of this. Twitter posts from Red Spring point out he doesn't accept bribes (at least overtly).

WAIT I'M REREADING THIS POST WHAT THE FUCK ARE THE SILENT CRYPTS.

Looking again at Leander's stat post. The Ouroboros in the background is. Not comforting. Also, "Forbidden Magic"? yeah I have a feeling we know why he's not in the Senobium

Theory, potentially Leander is currently being paid by the Senobium to maintain lowtown/Silent Crypts order? I think there's still a connection between them. Like the Senobuim can remain detached while having ties to whatever horrible things Leander is doing.

Okay, in the twitter relationship charts it says that Kuras has looked out for Leander "Since he was young". Kuras probably knows. SO much we don't.

When Mihn scolds Leander for not telling MC to be off the streets past dark. I think Leander intentionally "Forgot" to mention that. I think he wanted the MC to see how dangerous Eridia was so MC would stay closer to Leander for safety. I think it was a very intentional manipulation tactic.

(Furthermore, did he actually cast a spell of luck on MC when he gave them the lilies from his introduction magic trick? Then bet on the MC living through the day?)

I do think Leander's surprise at MC going out to the Seaspring was genuine, since his spit-take clashes so starkly with his cool-guy demeanor.

I also have a feeling that Leander has been past the veil/shroud. he's doing something fucky and the veil is prime fuckery territory.

(Are we...going to get a timeloop story????)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to dramatically use himself as a human bridge over a small puddle (as an excuse to get walked on). Least likely to remember to go to bed after playing Stardew Valley for 13 hours straight.

Touchstarved game things I'm concerned about:

(I feel like I wouldn't be doing my game designer duties if I didn't point out my concerns as well. To be fair, there aren't many.)

I hope the bad endings get fucked up, story-wise. Since it's a horror game, I know it might turn some people off to have things go super wrong, but I really hope they do. I want to see some endless pain vortexes, some real Juniji Ito-style suffering. But I would also understand if the devs want to softball some of the worst outcomes for the sake of widespread appeal.

We all have countless examples of kickstarter games looking strong out the gate, but then falling flat upon release. While I have high hopes for Touchstarved, I do know the reality and intense difficulty of kickstarter games. I'm really hoping the demo isn't the best the studio will have to offer.

OVERALL: I am rooting for the Touchstarved team/Red Spring Studio all the way! I'm thrilled to see where this game goes. I am poised on this purchase button and ready to buy when it releases.

[machiten]

thats my seat!

academic rival scaramouche x gn!reader headcanons

warnings: scaramouche(bro is a whole warning), foul language(it's scaramouche we're talking about here so), reader is mentioned to have bad eyesight, fights, angst, academic validation, bad parenting

barely proofread lmao im tired, it's 3:15 am and im starving. there will be a chapter 2 ofc i just wanted to post something goddamn my blog has been empty for so long (4 days) didn't have a way to keep track of the word count but it's kinda long. anyways hope u enjoy!!

oh god

when i say rival, i mean full on brawls on the school hallway

so let's say you've been top of your school since day one. your name has always been at the top of the score board every exam, always class representative, and well known as a smart kid ever since you steped on school premises.

you work hard to keep your grades up, your parents pay enough attention to your succesful brother and none for you

having a successful brother plants high expectations on you. i mean, he did very well, so why cant you? you both have the same blood running through your veins. your parent's praise, that is all you've ever wanted. and yet you're not even informed if there's a family outing, leaving you in your house alone

it has been like that for years

not until one day, you enter into the classroom and someone else is sitting in your chair. someone unfamiliar is sitting on your chair.

"hey, excuse me. i sit there." you pointed at what is supposed to be, your chair. "what, i dont see any names on it." Ok, what. when you finally look up to the culprit, my goodness. Fierce purple eyes that looks like it holds the entire universe, his skin as fair as a maiden, lips plum as a springs fruit, a beauty mark at the underside of his right eye, and his hair a unique color of indigo that is cut in a weird jellyfish-ish hairstyle. while yes, he looks ethereal, not gonna lie (if he had longer hair you might've mistaken him as a girl) his personality certainly does not match his elegance. an annoyed look currently adorned his face, as if you disturbed his peace.

"done checking me out? i know im hot, i get that look everyday so dont ever think you're special." and now it changed into a cocky smirk. the nerve! not only is he sitting on someone else's chair but it seems like his head is getting bigger too. "well excuse me, i havent seen your around school until today so im guessing that you're the transfer student our teacher talked about last week. but do you mind finding a new spot, i sit there." you glared at him.

"no i like it here. here's a better idea, why don't you find a new spot. im the new student here, show some courtesy."

"no- what, go away thats my seat!"

"alright everyone, settle down- oh, i see that the new student is here already," the teacher finally came in the classroom, cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. Everyone sat down on their seats while you are still standing up waiting for this person to look for another seat. Lmao guess what, he didnt move.

"(name), c'mon sit down. i know getting a new friend is exiting but we have to greet the new student properly. now go find your seat."

"wait but sir--"

"sit down, (name)"

"yeah that's right (name), sit down" a voice beside you spoke. you looked over to the new student adorning a triumphant grin at your loss. and so you are now forced to sit at the back, barely seeing what's in front because of your poor eyesight, and wearing a vengeful spirit.

epic first meeting

the seats in the back are okay, its breezy and you now sit next to xiao (his music taste is so good) but yeah, you cant really see the board clearly so you get notes from mona at the front

at first, it was a one sided rivalry. how hated how rude and bratty he was and at that time, he didnt seem too care (like he get those everyday). but then he started fighting back and oh boy he hasn't had this much fun in years!

the way you retort back to his harsh words is so amusing to him. usually, no one would dare talk to him in a degrading manner but then you came into his life, claiming that he's sitting on your chair, and it was never the same ever again.

now, he looks forward to everyday. he rises up earlier so that he can sit at your chair first, he keeps looking at the classroom door everytime someone enters (in case it's you so that he can give that shit eating grin), he loves how your face gets messed up when he wins an argument, he loves how small your hands are compared to his when you have a brawl in the hallways, and most of all, he loves it when you give him the shit eating grin when you win something (he says he let's you win sometimes because he pitied you, but is it really?)

to him, this is fun, amusing, entertaining. but to you? you've never felt this much hate in a human being, ever.

scaramouche is smart as fuck and he demonstrated that loud and clear

he aced the math test that the teacher gave that wasn't even taught to him

in presentations, he speaks loud and clear and you can really understand the point he's making

he doesn't really like group works (you noticed) but if he was put in a group, he does most of the job flawlessly

sports? oh of course. he's really good at baseball (pitcher). he's also good at other sports but not as good as baseball

oh and pray that you don't get him as your opponent in debates, you will be grilled like a brisket

did i mention he sleeps in like 70% of his classes? it's not like the teachers can do anything about it. he excels in everything, at least let him sleep as a gift

the only times he would be awake is when he pulls on your strings

but of course, you're also good in all of these, that's why you both are rivals

you fight almost everyday for the top spot (and for your original seat) to the point where its a daily routine to everyone else to see you both pinching and arguing in the classroom

He doesn't have any close friends (ahem childeahem) and it's either bc ppl are intimidated by him or he just doesnt give a fuck about friends

maintaining grades is one thing, winning against him is another

you are very intellegent, yes, but you work very hard for your grades every night. losing sleep studying for upcoming quizes and making sure your projects are perfect. unlike him who doesnt even try

you havent seen him study once

and it makes you see yourself lower. you're both equally in par with your grades but thats when he doesn't even try. what happens when he takes everything seriously? what if he studies as hard as you do? where will you stand then?

but when you got 2nd place for the 3rd time this year, he took it too far

"what the hell?! this is the third time!" you looked at the results in the bulletin board expecting to see your name in first place. you studied hard, right? so then why,,,

"oh oops, looks like i did a little too well again this time. aw and i didn't even answer some of the questions because i felt bad for beating you the last two times." a snicker is heard behind you and sure enough, piercing indigo eyes is looking at yours in pure pity. "thanks i guess. are you happy now? that's three times in a row!" aether beside you is now having a deadpan expression, expecting the worst. 'alright here we go again'.

"oh yes very, you know what makes me even happier? your declaration that you're inferior to me. why do you even try anyways, it's clear to everyone that im better. you're just wasting your time burying your head in your books and notes when we both already know who's coming at the top. imagine not meeting your parent's expectations." he's now looking down on you, beating you up with words that you know damn well are true. but that doesn't mean you're not gonna fight back.

"what."

"oh you know, maybe if you tried harder, the cost of your education might be worth it for your parents. honestly, if i we're them id--"

before he could finish his sentence, a loud echoing smack is heard all across the hallway, making everyone's attention turn to the commotion. scaramouche head is now turned the other way, his cheeks beginning to flare from the hit as he glared at the culprit, you. "you motherfucking bitc-!" you tackled him and due to surprise, he fell back. aether is now alert, shouting your name trying to get you to your senses.

you gripped scramouche's collar, rasing his head from the floor and slamming it back down. "you're an asshole, you know that?! i try my best everyday and this is what i get?!!" he fights back, hand on your arm that's trying to get a hold of his hair and another on your neck, holding back your weight.

"you don't know what it's like!! you will never know what it's like being compared to your brother everytime they get a chance!! you dont know what it's like going home to nothing but words of disappointment when you did everything you can to get their approval!! you will never know what it's like for your efforts to go to waste!! you will never know the feeling of being kicked out of your own home and live in a run down apartment!! i work day and night, i lose sleep everyday, i barely have anything for myself to live, and now i have to deal with your ass every single day too?!!"

"(name)! calm down, hey-!"

"fuck off aether!"

every word you spat pricked scaramouche's heart and made him struggle from your assaults. this isn't fun anymore. he knew a bit of your situation, kazuha told him. but he never knew it was this bad. all he knew is about your parent's expectations. he didn't even attempt to fight back this time and just defends himself from your blows. 'shit, i took it too far.'

"you dont have to remind me of my incompetence! i already know, i know damn well i will never be enough!! you're right, why do i even try, right?! you're so fucking annoying, doing everything so effortlessly, like school is a nuisance!! can't i take a fucking break?!!" at this point, you cannot control your tears from falling into his cheeks, rolling down his porcelain skin.

"what are you--?!"

"why can't i be a genius like you?! why dont i have everything that you have?!! i did everything i can, what am i doing wrong?!" you are now saying intangible words that no one can decipher because of the mess of emotions you are feeling at that moment. you're about to deliver another blow when someone held you back.

"(name)! you're doing too much! thats enough!!" goddamn she is stronger than i thought, scaramouche deals with this everyday?? aether pulled you away from the tangled mess that you and scaramouche managed to create. you're struggling his hold but after a bit, you slumped down having no more strength to keep going, sobbing quietly. "...(name)?" aether said.

"...i am so tired of everything, why do i even keep trying. i.. i just want to make my parents proud..." sniffles could be heard from where you are being held my aether's arms. aether supported you from the groud and led you away from the scene and the prying eyes of other students. before you both can disappear completely, aether turned around and gave scaramouche a threatening glare. "i know you both bicker a lot but you took it too far. you are an asshole and you better change that attitude of yours or i will send you home even worse than your condition right now." and you both are gone.

scaramouche is still sitting on the floor, his arm supporting his weight, bruises are forming in his skin while he's craddling his cheek that is now very noticeably red and flaring from the slap you served him earlier. he doesn't know how to act, really. should he apologize? should he just walk away and like nothing happened? should he report you for physical abuse? he didn't know anything.

what he does know though is that he fucked up, big time. he knows that you'll never want to see his face ever again, he knows that nothing will be the same again, and he knows thag the feelings he has will never be reciprocated, after what he's done.

he actually just found out recently, when someone from the other class was making fun of you and he didn't like it one bit, he's the only one allowed to make fun of you, everyone back off. scaramouche can see the crowd dissipating, no longer interested since the main action is gone. he sat there on the floor the whole time, rethinking his life choices, wondering if he said things differently instead of those. would he be seeing you tomorrow? will you still argue with him about nonsensical bullshit? can he still hold your hand whenever you pinch him?

he heard footsteps and before he can look up, someone had smacked him in the head.

"what the fuck-!!"

"i want to say 'are you okay', but to be honest you kinda deserved that." a mop of ginger can bee seen hanging from someone's head.

"fuck off childe, and why did you smack me?!"

"because you deserve it. but y'know, it's nice having front row seats seeing you ruin your life because of that toungue of yours. aether's right you're an ass." he helped scaramouche from the floor, dusting his uniform from the filth. "ill take you to the infirmary." scaramouche can only nod, feeling lethargic after all that energy spent.

he hopes to see you the next day, acting like nothing ever happened.

part 2

[souperbloom]

5sos!reader is genuinely one of my fav tropes omg?? i would love it if you could do smth along the same lines for luke <3

omg i’m so sorry this took me so long to get out. i was pondering on ways to make it perfect since this was such a general request, (i wrote 3 separate stories and hated all of them) but i hope y’all love what i came up with !!! <3

————

crowd pleaser. [l.h.]

omg i love this gif

bandmate!reader x Luke

in which the final show of tour calls for some ~celebration~

ended this one hella abruptly i’m sorry— i ran out of steam & wanted to get this out LMAO

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of drinking, exhibitionism (kinda)

WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“How long until soundcheck?”

The disembodied voice gives you a fright, but when you snap around to see your boyfriend standing at the door frame of your dressing room, your startled face morphs into a smile.

“Scared the shit outta’ me,” you mumble, turning the pegs of your guitar until each string was in tune.

“I asked a question,” Luke chuckles, skipping past your chair to lean against the wall across from you.

“Dunno’. Maybe you should’ve looked at the clock before you came in here and bothered me.”

You bite back a smile, finding it hard now to concentrate on getting your guitar in tune. Luke steps behind your chair, anchoring his hands on your shoulders. He starts slowly massaging your neck, pressing his thumbs into the pesky knot that you can never seem to reach.

“Someone’s grumpy today, eh?” You could hear his pout, just by his voice alone.

“Not grumpy, no. Just— tryin’ to get shit done so I have some time to get my shit together before the show.”

Today was the final day of tour. Fifty shows, more countries and states than you could count; it felt surreal to say that you’d been traveling across the world to do what you loved most, let alone doing it beside four of your best friends.

The adrenaline level was high in everyone but yourself. You had decided that today would be the one day where you actually planned out your schedule, to allot some time for the emotions that are bound to flood when you realize that this would be your last time performing with your band for a while.

To put it simply, you wanted to lend yourself some time to cry. In a good way.

“You’re so tense baby,” Luke grumbles softly, digging his thumbs into your shoulder blades, “Want a drink or somethin’?”

“No, I’m good.” You give your guitar one final tweak before setting it down on its stand beside you.

“You sure? I’ll take a shot with you right now. C’mon. Let’s do it. One and done.”

“Luke, please,” you laugh, fully turning around in your seat to give him a good look, “It’s like, 3pm.”

“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Plus, the boys and I may have already ripped back a shot for some confidence.”

You roll your eyes, and Luke bends down to rest his elbows against the back of your chair. His lips are now level with yours and are just dying for a kiss.

“Confidence? Please. You boneheads would use anything as an excuse to get plastered. I swear, you and Cal would pregame a doctor’s appointment.”

Luke seems to read your mind, as he does quite often, and steals a quick kiss after your rambling is done with. His sandy blonde curls flop in front of his eyes, but you’re quick to tuck them behind his ear.

“Baby, come on. This is the finale. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”

“I think we both know that you and I have way different ideas of what it means to celebrate.”

You couldn’t help being so stubborn, it was instilled in you since birth. But Luke made it his mission, as your partner, to do anything in his power to get you to change your mind. And most, if not all of the time, he was quite convincing.

It takes you a few minutes to stand up, after Luke had kindly stepped in front of your dressing room door to basically block you from leaving. There was virtually no escaping his request for a pre-show shot.

But who says you can’t negotiate?

“Y’know babe,” you begin nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers as you approach Luke’s large, lanky stature, “I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows quirk in challenge, “Alright, sure. Since you won’t do a shot with me— Let’s hear it.”

You take a moment to admire him in his silky black button down. The way his braided silver choker sat just above his collarbone and glistened beneath the overhead lamps was making you swoon. You were the one that got him into wearing jewelry, painting his nails, dousing glitter onto his cheeks and eyelids; a bit of self expression. You’d told him that it would help with his stage presence, which was some advice he definitely needed at the start of this tour.

And of course, he took a liking to it. The same way he did with you.

“What if we did something else to celebrate?”

You step closer to him and press your index finger against his chest, trailing it down and catching it onto the top button of his shirt. His eyes bounce between your wandering digit and your face, as he urges you silently to continue.

“Something else, hm? Like what?”

“We could— pass some time.”

His body tenses up the moment you make a sly effort to undo that top button. Short, staggered breaths begin to leave his throat as you continue to taunt him with your stare.

“I’ve always been intrigued by pre-show quickies.”

Luke’s eyes widened at your brutal honesty, ocean blue pricked with sparkling icy streaks that had undoubtedly shifted into something a bit darker. You bite your lip, he returns, and it takes everything inside of him not to pull you in closer.

“Really?” he stammers slightly, the back of his knuckles grazing your midriff, “Since when?”

“Since I saw how fuckin’ sexy you looked in that shirt this morning.”

Luke smacks his teeth, tilting his head to the side and reinstating that dominant air he holds over you so well, “Well, I’m not— opposed to the idea, baby…”

You hum in reply, the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is how his hands felt crawling down to your hips.

“…But just so you know, we only have about twenty minutes ‘till call time.”

“So you did know how much time we had, you fuckin’ liar.”

He chuckles quietly, before pulling you into him and pressing his body against yours, “I just wanted an excuse to come bother you. You should know me a bit better by now.”

It was getting harder to just stand there and stare at your boyfriend’s pretty face— his big cerulean eyes and deep set dimples that made you want to just grab him by his cheeks and tackle him down to the floor. But you’re stronger than that. You started this dance, so you might as well keep up.

“I think twenty minutes is plenty of time,” you try your best at sounding confident and sensual, knowing that if he were to move his hand an inch closer to your thigh, you’d fold like a wet paper towel.

“Really?” He muses, subtly stepping you back further into the room.

“Yup.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

It was now a battle of who could keep the eye contact the longest without getting distracted. Now that there was a set time constraint, the stakes had raised ten fold.

“I think we could do better than twenty minutes. How’s fifteen? Maybe even ten?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, gorgeous…”

In a daze, Luke spins you around and suddenly has your back pressed against the wall. You could practically feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as his hand travels up your chest and loosely grips the base of your neck.

“…You know I like to take my time.”

A quiet moan slips past your lips as Luke begins a trail of sultry kisses down your jaw, to the base of your collarbone. He kept his grasp on you firm, yet still loose enough for you to slip out if need be.

“Mmmh, baby—” you chirp, your head angling back to give him better access to the sweet spot of your neck, “the door.”

He pops his head up for a moment, only to take your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and stare you down with those cool baby blues.

“The door? Who gives a fuck about the door? Let ‘em hear it.”

You can’t really argue with that, so you just go limp in his arms as he continues to taunt you with his lips and tongue. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your thigh to prop it up against his hip.

What was once a journey of hickies and love bites had now transformed into a steamy make-out session. Luke groans into your mouth each time your hips swivel forward to meet his groin— you could barely contain the sounds that were echoing past your lips and bouncing off the walls of your dressing room.

You take a moment to catch your breath as Luke tugs at the hemline of your top.

“This. Off. Now.”

“Mmkay,” you sigh dreamily, following orders as it was now clear that Luke had taken the reins.

You manage to wrangle his lips off of your neck for a moment to allow you to peel your shirt over your head. But that split second felt like an eternity for Luke; for he had been dying to get his hands on you all morning and the last thing he wanted was to bother you.

But once you’d given him the signs that ‘bothered’ is the only thing you wanted to be, he didn’t think twice.

“Fuck, baby— been thinkin’ about you all morning,” Luke mumbles through his teeth, taking in the sight of your bare chest and simple black bra.

“Have you?”

“Mhmm. ‘Been thinkin’ about why my girl’s been so grumpy today. Guess she just needed a bit of attention, hm?”

Luke’s condescending words send a chill down your spine, along with that wandering hand of his. It had traveled towards your navel and hooked to the waistband of your skirt to pull you in even closer.

The only word you could muster was a simple curse word, a ‘fuck’, for good measure. But Luke didn’t seem satisfied with that reply.

“Is my girl gonna talk to me? Or am I just gonna stand here n’ talk to myself until she finds it in her to answer me?”

“Luke,” you whine his name yet still, his thirst isn’t quenched.

“C’mon baby— I know you can do it. You gonna’ beg for me? Like you always do?”

Your eyelids flutter closed in bliss, your hands on their own beating path towards the waistband of his skinny jeans. You could hear him tsk in disapproval before his hand is softly tapping against your cheek.

“Keep those eyes on me, pretty girl. Don’t think you can finish what you started?”

The moment you open your mouth to reply, you’re whipped out of this dreamlike state by a knock at your door frame.

“Ten minutes ‘till stage. We need everyone in the wings for a company meeting.”

The panic in your eyes immediately transfers over to Luke, who had flinched only slightly upon hearing your manager’s voice. You roll your lips inward, fighting a giggle yet still feeling vulnerable from the position Luke was holding you in.

“You got lucky, baby,” Luke leans down to whisper into your ear, “Saved by the bell.”

You eventually find enough confidence to tease, “Who says we can’t finish this later?”

“Uuuughhhhhh.”

He whines into your neck, his head hanging low and knocking against the wall with a disgruntled huff. You could tell by the way his body language changed that he was rather disappointed.

“Don’t whine, you sound like a child,” you giggle, playfully shoving his slouched body and sending him stumbling backwards.

With a bit of a fight, Luke groans, before picking up your shirt and handing it to you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Promise we’ll pick this back up later?”

You bite back a smile, and pull your shirt over your head. He physically winces once you fully put it back on.

“I promise. It’ll be like we never even left.”

After a moment of pouting and rolling his eyes, Luke fixes himself in your mirror beside you, gathering his thoughts and shaking his head clear as the two of you bicker about the impending final show.

“Maybe I’ll give you a little special something after the show tonight. My treat,” Luke announces proudly, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Your treat? I’m intrigued.”

You let your mind run rampant as you sling your guitar over your shoulder, admiring your pretty boyfriend through the mirror as he fluffs his hair and double checks his eyeshadow.

“Mhm. But— only if you’re good. Gotta’ see you giving it your all out there.” Luke takes a wide step to tower over you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Oh please Luke, I’m always good. Good to you, good to the band— I basically have sex with the crowd every night.”

“Don’t go making me jealous now, baby,” he muses, “I’ll see you out there.”

Luke’s flirty goodbye is topped off with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s saluting you and waltzing out of the door like nothing even happened. You can’t help but stand in his place in awe, fiddling with the neck of your guitar impetuously as the thought of him floods your mind even more so than before.

This was about to be the longest fucking show of your life.

~

It was just about eleven and the show finally had come to a close with an encore.

To say that the energy was through the roof was an understatement; the crowd was consistently feeding off of the band and the last thing you wanted to do was to leave it behind. But, of course, you were dragged away by the fall of the curtains and the eruption of colorful confetti.

You blew kisses, gave hugs, and even managed to find some time to toss a few guitar picks down by the barricade. But what you weren’t expecting was followed after curtain fall, when your boyfriend had decided to scoop you and your handful of picks up bridal style, and run you offstage like a bullet.

“Baby, you were amazing out there,” Luke whispers hurriedly into your ear, still holding you tightly in his arms as he barreled down the hall away from the wings.

“Luke, where are we—?”

Your question is cut off abruptly by him tipping you over and planting you back onto your feet. It took you a second to regain your balance but in the moment that you did, Luke had you pinned against the cinder block wall of the backstage area.

The gaze in his eyes was ravening, restless— his pupils were shaking and his once crystal irises had flitted to a deep indigo hue. Your breath catches in your throat as he tries to collect his own, still carrying the fatigue of running with you in his arms.

“I owe you— something special,” his words are chopped up by staggered breathing, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. You reach up between your temperate bodies to wipe it away.

“You could’ve at least given yourself a minute to relax after the show, Lu,” you console softly, but Luke shakes his head frantically.

“No, no— no. Had— had to get you here. Now. Want you— right here.”

“Right here?” You whisper back, glancing over his shoulder at the empty hallway.

“Yes. Right here. Please, baby. Been dying’ to get my hands on you. Got me so fuckin’ worked up out there… Felt like I was suffocating.”

You watch your boyfriend's face flash a plethora of different emotions; tired, hungry, desperate, lovesick. All of the things you were feeling throughout your little pre-show rendezvous.

“O-okay… If that’s what you wa—”

“Do you want to? We don’t have to, I’m just— I couldn’t wait to touch you, baby.”

His voice trembles as he whines desperately, leaning closer into your ear with each syllable. It’s hard to ignore his vehement pleading, especially since you’d promised to pick up right where you had left off.

As you’re about to give him the okay to proceed, he flushes his body against yours. You could feel the rock solid erection that was held captive by his restricting uniform skinny jeans, and the feeling of it almost brought you to moan.

“Feel what you do to me, gorgeous? Can you feel how fuckin’ hard I am for you? Want you— want you everywhere, baby.”

In a daze you’re nodding and in no time, his lips are on yours like a magnet. It had become a frenzied jumble of clumsy touching and groping in a matter of moments, a few excited giggles slipping past your lips and knocking into his.

“Fuck, baby— So good to me, y’ always are.”

“Luke, please—”

You give him the signal and soon enough, you’re being shimmied out of your panties beneath your skirt.

Luke makes a sly face, taking your lacy intimates and shoving them in his back pocket. “For safekeeping,” he whispers playfully, before pulling you back into that hungry kiss.

His weathered palms traversed beneath your shirt and slid up and down your sides; poor Luke couldn’t decide where to place his hands. But regardless of his indecision, his touch felt transcendent.

“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” Luke mumbles into your ear, making sure to nip at the nape of your neck and a bit of your earlobe to get your blood pumping.

You could already tell that you were wet. Soaked, even, just by the hurriedness of this all. The rush you were experiencing was feeding into that leftover adrenaline from the show. You truly had zero complaints.

“Oh my God,” you whine, as Luke takes his time to mark up your neck, “Please, baby? C-can’t wait much longer.”

“That’s my girl,” he retorts, taking his hands and cupping your cheeks delicately as your body language begged for the feeling of him, “So polite, like always.”

Your hands had made their way to unzip his jeans and caress his bulge above the briefs that held it, whining softly as your fingertips graze a wet mark left on the fabric.

“Mhhh, messy,” you bumble, slowly tracing your thumb across the spot of precum.

Luke hisses in pleasure, a smile forming at the end of his cry, “See what you do to me? I’m a fuckin’ mess for you, pretty.”

You couldn’t find it in you to respond coherently as he guided your hand to slip his cock from out of his underwear. On instinct, you wrap your fingers around his length and slowly begin to pump him between your bodies.

A moan rumbled through Luke’s chest and suddenly the wetness pooling between your legs was becoming an issue. Each touch of his dick and caress of his hipbone was becoming more and more despairing. Like your essence was simply falling apart beneath his fingertips.

“Gotta get my girl up here,” Luke grunts, moving his hands towards the backs of your thighs and gripping them tightly, “Jump.”

You do as you’re told, jumping up and locking your ankles around Luke’s back as he feeds into your desires with more love bites and bruises. Your back was flush against the wall, with just the right amount of space for Luke to line his cock up with your entrance.

“Look at you. My little rockstar. Put on one show and now you’re lookin’ for an encore?” He jokes with you tenderly, yet the bigger half of you was more desperate for him than anything else.

“What can I say, baby? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”

You steal his reply with a rough kiss, hoping to distract him enough not to let him notice the rips and tears that your nails were dragging along his silk shirt.

He pulls away from you, staring deeply into your eyes like the two of you were the last two living humans on Earth. Your boyfriend definitely had an affinity for eye contact, no matter the scenario.

The notch in his brow deepens as he adjusts your body, prodding your entrance with his tip and drawing a soft whine from your throat.

“So wet for me baby— just couldn’t wait to soak my cock, hm?”

Luke also had a thing for asking you questions, the call and response deeply feeding into his bedroom-dominant persona.

“Yes, Lu— fuckin’ soaked for you. Played the whole show thinking about you fucking me...”

“Is that right?” he quizzes, leaning in quickly to nip at your bottom lip and pull it away from your teeth.

You hiss at the sharp pain, tasting a bit of metallic on your tongue, “Mhm. Honest. Had to give you my all out there. Just like I promised I would.”

“God, you are too good to me, gorgeous,” he tosses his head back in bliss, still blindly teasing your slit, “Bet my girl’s looking for a reward for all this good behavior…”

Right as your lips part to reply, Luke is ramming his cock up into you. You gasp in shock, yet slowly mold around the feeling of him as he roughly bucks his hips against you.

“Holy fuck, Lu— oh my God!”

His teeth sink down into his bottom lip as he begins his jagged rhythm of snapping his hips, his eyes staying planted firmly into yours. It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes on him; for you know that the last thing he wanted was for you to look away.

“Feels s’fuckin’ good, baby,” Luke groans, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises in place of his fingertips.

The feeling of his cock pushing in deeper with each stroke had your body doubling over, the air in your lungs being knocked out in time with the tempo that he claimed.

Your body was pushing it’s limits, each direct hit to your g-spot forced low mewls from your chest and serenaded Luke’s desires. He was loving the adrenaline mixed with the overwhelming craving that he had been fighting all night long.

Your breathing in sync was like a symphony, music to Luke’s ears— he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving you for later until he was quite literally forced to. But with each buck of his hips and every single moan spilling from your lips, he soon realized that maybe the wait was worth it.

“Gonna’ cum soon, baby— keep those eyes on me, okay?”

You bite back frantic tears that pricked your eyes, nodding sheepishly as you let him fuck up into you. The only sound you were capable of making was a weak whimper, but Luke didn’t mind.

“Cum on my cock, baby… Fuckin’ soak me—”

“You look so beautiful. My fuckin’ girl.”

All of these silky-sweet nothings were hitting you like a freight train. You were nodding in time with the movement of his hips, your tits bouncing between your bodies and your eyes threatening to flutter closed at just how good he felt filling you up.

You moan again, as does he, and you’re able to read his expression before he’s even uttering the words:

“Gonna’ fill you up, gorgeous. Cum for me, baby?”

[hotgirlgraps]

Barely Breathing | Three

The aftermath of Tyler cheating

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: third and final part to this series with @madhatterbri. y/n gets her revenge but probably not how you would expect

Tyler basically moved back in at his parent’s house after the breakup. He still had his penthouse but he didn’t want to be alone in it.

All of the reminders of you would haunt him if he went back. The dresser drawers that were cleared out of all of your stuff you took when you left and the photos of the two of you decorating the living room was something he just didn’t think he could handle right now.

He sent you text message after text message begging for a chance to explain everything but he assumed you must have blocked his number when days went by without a single reply.

It wasn’t until one night as he was sitting outside with his dad puffing on a cigar and having a glass of whiskey that his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he had to take a double look at the screen when he saw your name floating on it.

“Y/n wants to talk tonight.” He says, looking over at Taz with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I told you to give her some time to blow off steam. Still don’t agree with what you did, but I’m glad she’s giving you a shot to explain your stupid actions.”

Taz had been hard on him about the whole ordeal. He had no idea that Tyler cheated on you until he confessed it the night he showed up drunk at his door.

He didn’t scold him that night, because it was obvious that Tyler wasn’t in his right mind, but the next day and every time you came up in conversation, he made it a point to tell him that he made a big mistake.

“Yeah.” He sighs as he puffs on the cigar, exhaling some smoke above his head. “I’m gonna regret that for the rest of my life, honestly. I’m just glad she’s even talking to me again.”

“You should.” Taz adds, sipping on his glass. “Know what else you should do?”

“What?”

“Take your ass home and put on some new clothes. Shower, shave, fix yourself up. You’ve been moping around in the same clothes for days and I haven’t seen your hair wet since you got here, so I’m pretty sure you ain’t had a shower either.”

“I took one yesterday.” Tyler attested. “But yeah, I need to change. Guess i’m gonna go.”

He put the cigar out and finished the last bit of whiskey in his glass before he got up from the chair. Just before he was about to leave, his dad stopped him.

“Son, listen to me. If she gives you another shot, you better not blow it this time. You got a good girl who loves you and treats you good. Start acting like it.”

What Tyler didn’t know, was that good girl that left his house that night was nothing close to the girl who was stepping back in.

You had been completely broken down by what he did. It haunted you every single night. You went through all stages of mourning it felt like, but landed firmly on one that felt way better than sitting around crying over him.

You were angry. The more you thought about it, the more rage made home inside of you. The years you spent together and all the things you went through being completely disregarded for some girl he couldn’t keep his hands off of made you despise him even more than anything else anymore.

You just wanted him to feel the same pain you had to suffer through, and no matter how many texts he sends saying that he misses you and he’s just so damn sorry, you knew he wasn’t the level of sorry that he should be.

Tyler took his time getting ready. He had butterflies in his stomach for the first time in a long time. He kept glancing at the clock but time was going by so slow, he was just anticipating when you’d be knocking at that door.

He picked up a bouquet of roses on the way back. He didn’t know if you’d accept them but he felt like it was the very least he could do to thank you for giving him a chance to talk to you.

He was nervously messing with his hair when he heard the faint knocks at the door, and had to take a deep breath before he opened it.

Seeing you again was something that made his heart feel like it was getting squeezed by stone hands in his chest. You looked good. You didn’t look like you were going through a breakup by any means. He wondered if you had to take your time getting ready to hide what you really had been feeling like or if you were really just fine like you seem.

“Hey” he breathes out as he opens the door. You send him a barely there smile and step in. You spot the roses on the kitchen island and roll your eyes before he sees it.

“Those for me?” You asked, feigning a smile.

“Yeah, they are.” He walks over to the bouquet and passes them to you, thankful and relieved when you take them from his hand.

“My way of saying thank you for giving me a chance to explain things.” He says.

You set the bouquet down and shake your head.

“I’m not here to talk about what happened.” You tell him.

“You’re not?” I thought you-“

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips and instantly felt his hands on your hips, pulling you into him as close as you could possibly get.

When the initial shock wore off, he kissed you back with a newfound intention that suddenly hit him.

You stepped out of your shoes and made quick work of getting his shirt off, only breaking the kiss to pull it off before you locked your lips with his again.

It was painful to think about another woman kissing him like this, but you had to force those thoughts away before you ruined everything for yourself.

Running your nails down his abs made you wonder if her nails traced the same path. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair didn’t feel as soft between your fingers when you knew another set of hands had been in them too.

It solidified everything for you. You knew you’d never be able to forgive and sure as hell not forget.

Tyler’s lips trailed from your jaw to your neck as he unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your arms. He leaned back to look at you, his eyes filled with pure, undeniable admiration but yours were just dull, the life completely sucked out of them.

He was so caught up in the moment that he wouldn’t have been able to tell that you were just a shell of who you used to be standing before him.

He leaned down and wrapped his arms underneath you, swiftly picking you up and carrying you into the bedroom. Feeling the bed beneath your bare back as he gently laid you down was a strange feeling. You never expected to be in that bed again after that night.

He peppered some kisses to your collarbone as he slid your pants down, along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable underneath him.

“You are so gorgeous.” He whispered in pure awe. It had only been a couple days but he thought he’d never get to see you like this again.

You grabbed his arms and pulled him down to you, his eyes adverting from your body to your eyes in an instant. You could practically read his mind. Every thought he was having and every feeling rushing through him.

You hated that you still loved him, because you could see full well that he was probably falling even harder in love with you in that moment, and maybe if you didn’t love him, it wouldn’t hurt you.

It was just another thing to force out of your mind as you grabbed his length in your hand and guided it to your entrance. He swallowed harshly before he pulled back some.

“Wait” He says, sliding his tongue over his lips. “Are you sure you want to do this like this? I don’t want you still be mad at me after we’re done. I would rather talk about everything first and then, if you want to, we can do this.”

“I’m not mad anymore, just fuck me please.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything more when you pulled him down by his chain, locking your lips with his again. He melted into you at that moment, his fingers sifting gently through your hair as his lips moved with yours in perfect harmony.

You felt him push into you and let a soft moan slip out, wrapping your legs around his waist to push him in deeper.

His hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers together, softly holding it above your head as he slowly thrusted into you.

It was too soft and sweet for you, though. The way he was peppering kisses to each inch of your face and the slow, languid movements. That’s not what you needed, so you reversed the roles and ended up on top of him, pinning his hands above his head as you took full control.

His lips lingered over your neck, he wanted to catch your kiss but you didn’t let him.

He was taken back but pleased with the sudden dominance, he didn’t object to it. His eyes stayed trained on you as he watched you take every inch of him, doing your best not to collapse down on top of him when he started arching his hips high off the bed.

You screwed your eyes shut so you didn’t have to watch him. It was a harder task than you expected it to be. Hearing the sounds of his low groans and heavy sighs, the occasional whisper of your name leaving his lips, it was pulling at your heart strings and that was the last thing you needed.

You made the mistake of letting go of one of his hands, and he immediately brought it to the back of your neck to bring you down to his lips. You tasted whiskey and fresh mint on your tongue, the kiss so filled with passion and desire that it made your head spin.

You broke away and straightened up on top of him, letting his other hand go and you allowed it to grab your hip, guiding you.

His lips parted and you felt him twitch inside of you, already knowing what was coming so you picked up the pace to get him there faster. You didn’t care enough about yourself.

He surprised you when he sat up and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and placing soft, sloppy kisses to your neck as he thrusted up into you.

“I love you so much, yn” He whispers against your skin. Words that didn’t mean anything anymore.

His hips stuttered and you quickly got off of him, not trying to risk anything under the circumstances. He must have expected you to catch his release but you didn’t, and instead let it drench the bedsheets while you slid off the bed and found your clothes scattered on the floor.

He watched you for a moment before he got up and headed into the bathroom. When he came back, you were fully dressed and fixing your hair in the mirror.

“You’re not staying the night?” He asks with a small voice. You caught his expression in the reflection before you turned around to face him.

“Why would I do that?” You asked.

“I mean, I would love it if you did.” He says, starting to walk towards you, but you step closer to the door.

“No, Tyler. I’m not staying the night with you. I’m never coming back here again, either.”

“What?”

“I hope you enjoyed your last time ever fucking me. Hope that girl was worth it.” You forge a taunting smirk before you walked out the bedroom.

He was hot on your heels but you didn’t turn around until you reached the front door.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” He asks, his eyes filled with pain and despair, just how you wanted to leave him.

“Did you seriously expect anything else? You cheated on me, babe. You deserve everything you’re getting.” You shrug before you open the door and step out, making the man you once planned to marry just a boy from your past.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Twisted Love Part 7

Loki x reader

Pairing: Loki x Wife reader

Warnings: Forced marriage, language, anxiety, panic attacks, if I forgot anything please let me know!

Summary: Loki finds out what you have been up to.

“I’m wet”

“…..”

What the hels did you just say…!?Out of all the things?!?

“Yes I can see that… and the reason you are standing here looking like a banchsnep is because?”

“W-Well um.. I was out taking a little walk and came across this poor creature clinging to a branch in the river…”

Lokis eyed widened and his head tipped towards you “River? Forgive me I don’t believe I quite heard you right”.

You shifted your feet, “U-um yes he was struggling in the river..” you said barely above a whisper.

“You- what were you thinking?!” Oh great, he was angry now. Dammit you didn’t think this far ahead, but it’s not like you could ignore a dying animal.

“I-I…it was going to die Loki…” you felt the corners of your eyes begin to burn. The adreline having worn off and now you were in trouble. Your body was shivering and you felt terribly exhausted.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous thundergapes river is!? Why didn’t you have your guard go rescue it? Speaking of I’ll need to have a word with your guard because clearly Asgards finest need a lesson on common sense”.

Your eyes shifted to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

You could feel the tension rise even more when it dawned on him why you looked even more ashamed. “You went alone?? Do you have a death wish?! Do you know how many dangerous creatures are out there-“ he was about to scold you even more until his eyes caught sight of a single glittering tear drop from your eye to the ground.

He sucked in a sharp breath. He was mad yes, more than mad actually. But he did not want you to cry.

He took a few moments to calm himself.

With a deep sigh he stepped forward, slowly this time and spoke in a softer tone. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “Next time please be more careful, and from now on if you wish to go out no one is forbidding you but you shouldn’t go alone.” He said the last part with finality.

“I understand… forgive me”

He hated how saddened your tone was.

“As long as you understand there’s no need to apologize. I’ll leave so you can bathe.” You nodded shuffling from one foot to the other. He knew you must be freezing so he didn’t delay exiting the tent.

“Thank you Loki…” he paused opening the flap. He nodded simply over his shoulder and disappeared.

He felt better when you didn’t stutter.

A short while later you found yourself immersed in a steaming heaven. It was nice to draw your own bath for once. You always felt so bad when Adessa did it although she insisted on it.

After thoroughly cleaning yourself you slid on an emerald silk robe and called the wolf over to you.

He came bounding happily and you had to scramble back to avoid getting wet when he suddenly jumped in the tub.

“No wonder you were in the river you little fish, so brave hm?” You smiled scrubbing at his now bubbly fur.

“You know you’ll need a name? How about Baldur? Since you’re my brave little wolf.”

You continued scrubbing off the layers of dirt and grime and as you did your eyes began to widen.

He wasn’t a brown or gray wolf like you had assumed…

No, once you got past several layers of hardened mud you saw the pure white fur of a very special breed of wolf. And when you lifted its tail, your suspicions were confirmed…The very same breed this whole hunt was for…

Oh hels

**********************************************

They wouldn’t hurt a cub would they? No surely not…

You contemplated worriedly as Baldur slept soundly in your lap. Silver tail tucked under him comfortably.

Maybe you’d have to sneak him back out to keep him safe but if he was all alone how would he survive?

Perhaps Loki could help, or Adessa when she gets back.

You thought back to when Loki was scolding you. You didn’t like making him upset. Actually you didn’t like making anyone upset however it felt worse with Loki somehow.

You were grateful he didn’t seem too upset after he noticed you crying, although you were a bit embarrassed to be seen like that.

You wondered how the hunt today went. It saddened you greatly that they were going to kill such a beautiful creature.

“May I enter?” You straightened up hearing Lokis slightly muffled voice outside the tent.

“Yes”. Loki entered swiftly, still clad in his armor and you felt guilty that he had to delay changing and cleaning himself because of you.

“Shall I draw you a bath?” Your old habits of serving slipped it seemed and you noticed the surprise on his face.

“There’s no need, I’ll call for a servant” you nodded, feeling a bit dumb you had asked.

He stepped forward eyeing the sleeping creature.

“How is the little runt?”

“He’s alright I think, after a bath and some food he seemed full of energy…Well before he wore himself out chasing a fly around the room and now he’s just fallen asleep.” You stroked his head lovingly.

“What do you intend to do with it?” He tilted his head.

“Well he was all alone, I don’t think he’ll survive if I send him back…”

“Do you wish to keep it?”

Your eyes shot to his in hope, “C-can I??”

“If you wish, I have no qualms. As long as the mutt stays away from my leather boots.”

You smiled at that.

“Thank you, I promise he won’t cause any trouble.” You move to stand off the bed to set Baldur on a pile of furs but cry out and stumble suddenly when you feel a sharp pain in your ankle.

Loki is quick to steady you with two arms firmly holding you.

“Easy, easy, here”.

You half set half toss Baldur on the bed and allow Loki to help you sit.

You panic slightly when you see him kneel on the ground.

“I-I must’ve twisted it or something, I’ll be fine“ you try to shuffle away but it’s not like you had much room to go.

You hold in an eep when he cups the back of your ankle and brings it up.

“L-Loki, really it’s fine!” You felt heat rush to your face.

“Some would say a bleeding foot is cause for concern..” he turns your ankle slowly looking at is from all sides.

“B-bleeding?”

He nods before releasing a sigh. “You probably cut it on the rivers rocks.” You felt a pang of guilt but that was quickly overtaken by curiosity when you noticed Loki’s fingers emit a golden light.

The stinging started to subside and within seconds the pain was gone completely. Loki conjured a roll of bandaged and for the millionth time that day you were taken by surprise when he wrapped your foot with gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Loki you don’t have to bother- I can do it”

His eyes snapped up to yours and you gulped.

“My seider won’t heal the wound however you shouldn’t feel pain from it any longer” you nodded.

He guided your foot back down before rising from the floor.

“Thank you…” you don’t know why….you definitely weren’t afraid but… your heart couldn’t seem to stop beating when your eyes met his.

“How was the hunt?” You asked as you soothed Baldur back to sleep.

“Unsuccessful unfortunately, I was hoping we would be able to get it over with sooner but perhaps we’ll have better luck tomorrow.”

You hummed in response.

You watched as Loki rang the magical little bell that summoned a servant and watched him conjure a larger privacy screen.

How lucky magic users are..

**********************************************

Later that night Loki had gone out again somewhere while you sat contemplating what to do with Baldur.

The creature in question was currently entertaining himself chasing a little ball on the floor.

“Baldur shall we go to the grass for a bit?” The last thing you needed was him pooping on the furs. You promised Loki he wouldn’t be trouble after all.

You grabbed the biggest cloak you could find and snuggled him to your chest.

Quietly you lifted the flap of the tent, satisfied that no one was paying attention you swiftly made your way to a secluded spot behind one of the large carriages.

“Alright boy, go on” you set Baldur down and he tilted his head at you.

“Cmon use the grass… no not roll over…Baldur no come here look-*sigh*” this might take awhile….

Finally after Baldur got his fill of chasing a butterfly and rolling in the grass did he finally do his business.

“Good boy” you ruffled the fur on his head. “Shall we go now? It’s quite late, I don’t want anyone to worry.” You moved to pick him up when he suddenly darted away from you.

“No Baldur it’s not time to play- come here- no- agh- please stop-“ Baldur was having the time of his life with his front lowered to the ground and bum shaking thinking this was all a game.

“Baldur wait don’t go that far-“

*snap*

“B-Baldur!”

Suddenly the pup was squirming in the air being held by the scruff. The figure who held him stepped out of the darkness of the treeline and you felt a cold panic overtake you.

“Well well well, what do we have here?”

“L-Let him go Mathis...”

***************************************************

Part 8

What’s this? Two posts in one week!? Who am I??😂

Thank you so much to all my lovely readers. Your comments bring me soooooo much joy and motivation to write more. 💕

@oceanmermaidwitch

@sophiaedits

@anda-the-valkyrie

@daddylokisqueen

@anemois-hiraeth

@movielover2002

@ibuki-as-president

@someonesleftshoe

@sin-bin-kin

@sara–ravenclaw

@fuzzyphantomsandwich-blog

@the-professor-of-gallifrey

@spike-meowsters

@gasstationfifacard

@katrinakennedy1

@useless-snail

@not-anotha-loki-fanart-acc

@crimson25

@huntress-artemiss

@ilovefanfictions

@christineblood

@prpertyofnoone

@hatsparkle

@loveisfolklore

@mari-styles14

@y-napotat

@pietromaximoffsbabe

@fuzzyphantomsandwich

@shikamaruscumrag

@blueheartofrainbow

@mydogsteppedonabee

@n0sl33pc1u8

@daintinessiskey

@ajeff855

@yougottalovefandoms

@riot-sounds

@thenerdyoldersister

@shadowluna25

@janeaustenlover

@deepdinosaurwizard

@flightlexsbird

@legendarygalaxytheorist @lizzmaximoff @sohais @lordfishflakes

@esoltis280 @meikoo @just-someone11 @mystic-mara

@shadowluna25

@bitchy-bi-trash @agent-tempest @winchestersgirl222 @lilaclaufeyson @carpediem-spero

[garricks4thwingqueen]

My Little One (I'll Do Anything For You) Garrick Tavis X OC

This is an idea that I'm grabbing from one of my dreams. Garrick girls well be feed well from me. He has a chock hold on my heart.

Synopsis: It was never easy being Amber Melgren the daughter of none other than the General Melgren himself. Amber was about to start her first year at Basgiath War College and she knew this wasn't going to be an easy thing to do with her last name and having to eventually face her ex who she hadn't seen since he started last year. Her ex was also her father's ideal match for Amber. Amber was used to these high standards from her father but started to feel more rebellious as she got older especially after losing her family member, she had the most love from at the age of 13, (which was her mother.) One of her father's strictest rules given to Amber before she had to start her first year had reminded her what he told her several years ago which was to not fall in love with any of those rebellion children.

Fic is still in the works!

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of parent death, swearing, hinted at smut.

Word Count: 917

Part 1:

I stood alone in the training room flicking dagger after dagger at the target on the wall. I kept missing everyone of my targets even though I knew I could hit it spot on, after all I spent my whole life training to be a dragon rider, I mean what else are you expected to do when your general Melgren’s daughter? It was now September and my ex had barely said a word to me since I started my first year at Basgiath this past July. Dain had started  a year ahead of me. We were dating for almost a year before he started, however he broke up with me the night before he had to cross the parapet. He's been breathing down Violet's neck and his avoiding me honestly didn't even bother me until he spoke up in sparring when my squad leader volunteered to spare me when my assigned partner ended up being sick. Garrick knew what I was capable of, Dain apparently not so much. I didn't even notice the door to the training room open until I felt a hand on my waist and one on my wrist. “A little more flick of the wrist and then you’ll have your target.” Garrick Tavis breathed softly behind me, flicking my wrist forward. I turned once the knife hit dead center “Blasting off steam cadet? I don't think I'd want to be the face of whoever you were envisioning.” Garrick chuckled. “Dain.” I replied well aware both of Garrick's hands now rested on my waist and neither of us had made any move to step away from each other. “Dain?” Garrick questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Long story.” I sighed. “I've got time.” Garrick said motioning to the bench. “We used to date it basically approached a year almost to date the night before he started here then he called it quits the same night. Not to mention that earlier was even the first time this year that he even looked in my direction. Pretending like he still cares, even though he's basically been shoved up Violet's ass since we started this year. I felt Garrick’s calloused hand reach up and cup my face. “You deserve better then him anyways.” He said his finger was now softly rubbing my cheek. “Gare.” I sighed quietly before our lips slightly brushed each other, before it became deeper & more intimate as Garrick now pulled me on his lap. “Amber”  he breathed as we stopped for air. “That was.” I started to say. “Incredible.” Garrick said softly. “Yeah.” I said with a heavy sigh, knowing how wrong this was. “My Father would flip if he ever found out about us.” I said with a quiet voice burying my face into his shoulder. “That's a risk I'm willing to take.” I started to trace his rebellion Relic that ran down the length of his arm; which was given to him and all the other rebellion children by my father's dragon Codah; when their parents committed acts of treason against Navarre. “Gare if anything ever happened to you because of me or because of my father.” I said quietly, “Look at me.” He whispered, lifting my chin up. “You're different from your father; me giving you extra training and spending extra time with you wasn't just for sparring purposes; our flirtatious banty moments were real and I think we both know I can hold my own.” He said with a smirk on his face. “Gare it's more complicated than that.” “Try me princess.” He said softly. I sighed “You really are stubborn aren't you Tavis?” “Give it all to me.” He said. Sighing and resting my head against Garrick's shoulder “It all changed after my mom died. He was never hard on training me at all as she lightened him, I was 13 when she passed due to her dragon being injured. Up until then I actually hoped I was going to end up in infantry. Training started slow and then he got stationed with Colonel Aetos and had me and Dain training almost constantly. After the rebellion surprisingly he lit up a bit, not without giving me a warning to never fall in love with any of those parents' children.

A few years passed and then he was delighted when my boyfriend who was going into the infantry and I split and then Dain and I started seeing each other. So freaking delighted he has our wedding basically planned and as far as I know he still thinks we are an item unless someone else has told him otherwise. Honestly Dain and I were both too chicken shit to mention it and he was starting here anyway so not like it mattered. I'm pretty sure he has the hots for Violet and that's why he did it and waited so he wouldn't have to deal with my father.” I paused and added “He's not one to take a beating lightly when he's upset. Upset and angered even worse.” “Dain’s a dick and I'm willing to risk it.” he said, pulling me in for another kiss. “Will take this as it goes. It's better if no one knows right away anyway, you get lash enough for your last name and then if anyone finds out you’re with me and hurts you because they think you're trying to sleep your way to safety.” He sighed, “I couldn't deal with you getting hurt because of me either, so wet for me.” He chuckled.

[anxiteyandsleep]

Oh the fun I can have with this so. Human Rivendell gaurd - (us) male. Likes either Elrond/Elladan/lindir/glorfindel depending on who you like more BUT due to being human homophobia exists where we were raised. So opening about our feelings is a no no no. Basically a fic about confronting that and woowww happy ending

Okay so I do not know enough about Elladan and Glorfindel, at one point I did but my memory is shit so💀 I picked Elrond, though maybe I'll write something similar for Lindir later👀 Also did it more with the reader struggling with "i wish he was a girl" / internalized homophobia. This ends more with a promise of a future relationship

Hope you enjoy!

Lord Elrond was beautiful, the way his brown hair flowed down his back, his soft smile, his compassion for others. It was all so beautiful, (name) found himself admiring the elf regularly. When he was on night duty, his thoughts were filled with the brunette elf, his dreams plagued by fantasies of what they could be. If it wasn't for one problem - Elrond wasn't a woman.

(name) had no problem with others pursuing same sex relationships, there's never any judgement but... When it came to him, he felt as though it was wrong. Forbidden. Because where he was raised, it very much was. So (name) pushed his feelings down as much as possible, trying to ignore the warm feeling that built it's way up whenever Lord Elrond glanced his way

It was a dark, chilled night, (name) was keeping watch near Lord Elronds library. It was quite, nothing was happening so (name) allowed his thoughts to wander for a moment. Thinking back to the time he had been injured by an orc, the worried expression in Lord Elronds eyes as he approached, the way his warm, gentle hands tended to his bleeding leg, the soft elvish he whispered that (name) had no understanding of. That moment was when (name) realized he was falling in love and it made him feel sick

"(Name), good to see you. Taking the night watch again?" Lord Elronds voice cut through the memories, snapping (name) back to reality. Lord Elrond was leaving the library, book in hand. "I worry, humans should sleep during the night, not stay up standing in a hallway that does not need guarding" He hummed, stepping closer to the human guard, keen eyes looking him up and down. (name) couldn't bring himself to speak, a strange feeling overwhelming him. A mix of desire and shame bubbling inside of him.

"You're troubled, what is on your mind?" Elrond questioned with furrowed brows, gently resting his hand on (name)s shoulder and leading him back into the library for a private place to talk.

(name) had no idea what to say, men weren't supposed to talk like this, not about their feelings or what troubles them, at least not where he was raised. On top of that, how was he supposed to explain to his Lord that he was extremely conflicted about falling for him?

"It's nothing, my Lord Elrond, I'm just chilled. That is all" (name) lied and he knew it was painfully obvious. Elronds arched brow only confirmed his worries that Elrond saw right through it. However Elrond walked over to the tea tray and poured a cup, steam rising from the hot liquid. "It is a cold night, here, drink up"

(Name) took the cup from Elronds hand, feeling the warmth through his gloves. "Thank you, that is very kind" he whispered, softly blowing on the tea before taking a sip. It was delicious and did help his nerves, if only a little.

"now, what is truly troubling you?" Elrond questioned after a long silence, sitting down on a chair tucked away in the corner near a window, the moonlight flowing in and making him look all the more beautiful.

"i..." (name) started, struggling to find the right words. Lying again wouldn't work, Elrond will only see right through it and question again later on. "I'm sorry i....just wish you were different... I wish I could love someone else so it would be easier" (name) admitted, his voice barely above a whisper and cracking slightly as he struggled to hold back the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn't dare look at Elrond, eyes glued to the floor beneath his feat

The silence from Elrond felt painfully long. Then a warm, gentle hand tilted (name)s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. "there is nothing wrong with how you love, Meleth nín." He reassured softly. "I understand that you were raised to think differently, but here there is no judgement for genuine love"

(name) tried to speak, muttering something to disagree but Elrond quietly shushed him. "I love you too, though if you are not ready to accept it, I will wait until you're ready." Elrond pressed a soft kiss to (name)s lips, it was tender and brief, a promise of what's to come later on. "Sleep, I will have someone else takeover for the night."

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Sensitive (Kenjaku x Reader)

Kinktober Day 19: Feet. No real warning this time, just my unapologetic love and desire to massage Kenjaku's feet. I have definitely not thought about this in explicit detail. Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

The warm water of the natural hot springs felt nice in the autumn air. You were thankful that Kenjaku had brought you here. You weren’t sure how he’d found a place so nice that was so secluded from any foot traffic, but you weren’t one to question things like that. The two of you had been here before, but that was with the curses he was working with. It was nice to have some time alone with him that didn’t directly revolve around the plans you’d been working toward.

It was silent save for the sounds of water bubbling around you, easy to let your mind wander. You imagined it would be a cathartic place to come and relax, enlightening even, but the man next to you was more distracting than he should have been. You hadn’t entirely expected Kenjaku to strip down completely before getting into the water. His clothes folded neatly next to yours on the edge of the water.

You’d followed his lead before getting in, and you had to admit it felt lovely. It was hard to focus on relaxation though with his bare skin brushing up against yours. Though you had the whole open spring to yourselves, he’d chosen to sit directly next to you, the sides of your bodies brushing up against one another.

Closeness wasn’t new for the two of you by any means. Yet somehow, whether it be due to the heat or just your usual desire for him being amplified by your surroundings, you wanted nothing more than to feel him all over you.

Looking over you saw that Kenjaku's eyes were closed, steam from the water making his bangs cling to his forehead. You were glad he wasn’t paying attention, you coveted the rare chance to take all of him in without him teasing you. The way you felt right now, you knew he’d tease you. The urge to drown Kenjaku in affection was overwhelming.

“Playing footsie in the bath? Are you unable to keep your hands off me for even a moment when we’re alone?” Kenjaku asked, his voice breaking through the silence and startling you. Footsie? It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about. You had been subconsciously caressing his ankle and foot with your own, pausing only because he brought it to your attention. 

His eyes were still closed, but you noticed a smirk had found its way onto Kenjaku’s lips. It was almost as if he could sense your thoughts in some way, knowing that you’d been thinking about how he teased you. It was obvious he wasn’t truly upset. You weren’t entirely sure how to respond however, since you hadn’t intended to mention how he had been making you feel. 

Before you had the chance to speak, Kenjaku’s arms came out of the water, reaching behind himself to grab at the edge of the hot spring. You watched as he used it to pull himself up, lifting himself completely up and out of the water. You had to admit, it was a little confusing in that moment, as he’d never reacted this way to your touch before. Generally any contact between the two of you was welcome unless he was in the middle of something important. Perhaps you really had annoyed him by pulling him from his meditation?

Sitting on the edge of the hot spring, the only part of Kenjaku still in the water was his feet. This moment had been a wonderful break for the two of you, it didn’t feel right to cut it so short.  Slowly, you turned to face Kenjaku. Before you fully thought about what you were doing, you wrapped your hands around one of his ankles. 

The face Kenjaku made looking down at you was one you loved to see, confusion had spread onto his handsome features. It wasn’t a look you got to see often, but one you did enjoy. Lifting the foot in your hand up to your face, looking down at it an idea popped into your mind about keeping Kenjaku here with you. 

Gently you pressed your thumbs into the soles of his feet, his skin soft but it didn’t take an expert to feel some of the knots under the skin. You heard a soft groan leave his lips as you started working at his heel, working through the tough muscle. 

His feet were beautiful, unmarred and very clean. You knew Kenjaku appreciated personal hygiene, but it seemed like his vessel had as well. Though with the amount of force you were needing to use on his heel, it wouldn’t surprise you if the vessel had never received a foot massage.

After a few moments of focusing on the tense ball under the skin, you felt it give way. Another groan of approval above you as you worked our way through the tension Kenjaku had built up. As you kneaded the arch of his foot, you focused more on observing his feet. They weren’t too large despite his tall stature, average for a man his height you assumed, you found them strangely pretty.

Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to the ball of his foot, letting your fingers take over giving that spot attention once you moved your lips. Another tense muscle you worked through with your thumbs, watching as his toes curled along with the presses into his skin.

You looked up, surprised to see just how flushed his face had become. More than just the flush the heat had given it before, it seemed he was enjoying this more than you expected. Your goal was just to try and fix whatever relaxation you’d pulled him from, but if this led somewhere else, who were you to stop it. 

Kenjaku stared at your hands, watching as your fingers caressed the tops of his feet while your thumbs worked wonders on his soles. Perhaps soaking in the hot water had made his body more sensitive, because it felt like every press into his skin was right onto a nerve that was finally being lavished with attention. Slipping his hand down to palm at his hardening cock, Kenjaku felt too good to ignore his own desires.

You hadn’t noticed he’d moved to touch himself until you shifted your attention to his toes. The moan that you pulled from him louder than you expected for the way you pinched each toe. Glancing up you quickly saw that he’d begun stroking his cock as he watched you. Not quite the reaction you expected, but you wanted to encourage it. Pressing your lips to the arch in his foot you continued massaging his toes. The soft peck turning into your tongue teasingly licking at the soft skin.

Kenjaku jumped at the sensation of your tongue, the tickling feeling unexpected. You giggled to yourself at his reaction, watching as he gripped his cock harder in response. 

Slowly you let his foot down, dropping it back beneath the surface of the water before pulling the other one up to your face. It was just as beautiful as the one before, soft and unmarred. As you let your thumbs begin working into the heel like you previously had, you wanted to see just how much attention he liked. 

You’d massaged Kenjaku’s feet before, but that was a less sensitive vessel it seemed. The body of Geto Suguru was always a very reactive one. 

Without taking your eyes off his own, you wrapped your lips around his big toe. Sucking at it, you treated it as if it were the head of his cock while still massaging the tense sole under your chin. 

Another moan came from his now open and panting mouth. Eyes flitting down for a moment you noticed the hand on his cock was now focusing on rubbing the head, trying to emulate what you were doing it seemed. Your tongue teased the skin, circling the toe in your mouth. 

You moved to press soft, open mouthed kisses to his other toes as your thumbs slid up and began working on the tension in his arch. Kenjaku’s eyes looked unfocused as you looked back up at his face. He was watching you still, but you couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at. That didn’t matter you supposed, it was clear just how much pleasure he was getting just from your massage.

As you continued to massage, a particularly tense ball of muscle in his foot needed more attention. You pressed into it harder, causing the muscle to give way under your thumb. The obscene moan that reached your ears was unexpected, it was a sound you normally pulled from Kenjaku when you fucked him, perhaps he was just really enjoying being at your mercy unexpectedly.

When your thumbs moved up to massage below his toes, you let yourself kiss down to the arch in his foot. Soft, open mouthed kisses pressing into the skin as you tried to take the last of his tension away. You couldn't watch due to the angle, but you could hear just how fast his hand was moving on his cock. Kenjaku had to be close, the pace matching someone trying to push themself over the edge. 

You felt the muscle you were focusing on give way beneath your diligent hands. It seemed that was all Kenjaku needed, as you watched his hot release spill out, seeping through his fingers as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm. While you hadn’t intended to get him off, you did love watching him come apart due to your ministrations. 

As Kenjaku came down from his unexpected orgasm, you finished your massage, making sure each of his toes was free of tension. If his vessel was this sensitive to a foot massage, you were curious how reactive he’d be to a full body massage. That was a thought for another day, however.

[bleach-your-panties]

⚡mind (and body) fuck 🛸- d.kaminari x fem reader x h.shinsou

⇰n/sfw 18+. mdni. MAJOR dark content warning.

⇰written for @bastardblvd's house of slimy horrors halloween collab.

⇰warnings: gullible reader, mentally ill reader, drug use (weed), electrostimulation, hypnosis, alien abduction, NON-CON, body horror, tummy bulge, use of surgical instruments, instrument insertion, egg retrieval, time-traveling (between present day and 1970's), alternate timelines, trippy shit, misogyny, sexism, sleazy men talk, threesome ig, excessive cursing, slimeball!denki being himself and slimeball!fake!landlord hitoshi, who claims he's a licensed hypnotist. this is degenerate, psychological filth; who wrote this?

⇰(i got the title idea from shinsou's hero name. i think it's mindbreak, but i always say mindfuck lol.)

🛸inspired by the movie fire in the sky and betty and barney hill's accounts of their alien abduction in 1961.

🛸banner images from pinterest/pic collage

🛸banner/animated divider made by me with canva/pic collage.

🛸halloween divider by @/firefly-graphics

🛸4.8k words

▶️: e. t (remix). - katy perry ft. kanye west

▶️: phone home - lil wayne

"You sure you don't want another hit, pretty?" Denki turned his head to ask you as he held the lit blunt, which was quickly becoming a roach, between his long fingers.

Hitoshi, who was sitting to your left, made a small sound of amusement.

"I think she's had enough. Just look at her fucking face."

You're Denki's new neighbor, having just moved down the hall into apartment 3E. After finally securing a day off from work, he decided to do the neighborly thing and invite you over. To get to know you better.

He met you as he was preparing to leave for work one morning.

You looked so lost and gullible, easy prey for him, but if he hadn't have left then, Katsuki would have most certainly put his ass on bathroom duty for being late. 

He'd have to put his quest of getting to know you on the back burner until he had more time.

And now, the day has finally come.

He wasn't very impressed when Hitoshi insisted on coming over the same day to 'work on some maintenance issues'.

Hitoshi is a bastard, a smooth bastard, that always seems to be in competition with him when it comes to nagging hot, unsuspecting chicks and taking them home, filling them up with weed, alcohol, and dick, then giving them the boot.

They even have a scoreboard, and Denki is currently just one point behind Hitoshi right now. Just one measly point.

And Denki planned to use little ole, naive you to even the score.

"What even is in that shit? It smells horrible." The violet-haired man waved his hand in front of his face to waft the weed smoke away from his "delicate" nose.

"You know, I've never seen someone who smokes cigarettes be so sensitive about a little weed. Pussy."

"Pussy? Oh, so now we're name-calling then? If I'm such a pussy, then how come I'm ahead of you right now on the board?"

He pointed a long, black-polished fingertip at the board situated across the room in plain sight. 

The girls that Denki brought back here either had to be dumb, lonely, desperate, or a sad mixture of all three. Not to mention the ones with daddy issues.

“Because you use fake status and promises of discounted rent to get pussy, while I, on the other hand, use my charm and good looks. Not to mention I actually know how to fuck.” Denki smirked and crossed his long arms over his chest.

Hitoshi just snorted and Denki knew that he had won that argument.

A soft moan and a feminine hand on his jean-clad thigh made Denki jump in surprise.

"Shit, I almost forgot you were here, baby girl. Scared the fuck out of me." Denki cooed at you and then snickered.

A steaming hot box of pizza was open on the small coffee table in front of you, along with opened cans of beer and soda.

"You still didn't answer my question, pisshead. What is in that weed and why does it stink so fucking badly?" 

Denki leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza out of the box: Hawaiian-style pizza.

"It's called Pineapple Express." 

 "Oh you just fucking made that up."

"I swear I didn't, but okay." Denki reached across your lap to ash the roach. Your small hand shakily reached out, grabbed his wrist, and rubbed it all the way down to the crease of his elbow, meeting the flannel of his rolled-up shirt.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you tired?” Denki asked you in a thick, honey-laden voice.

What he doesn't know, though, is that he's given you a dangerous mixture. 

A toxin that would soon have you spouting fairytales and complete nonsense.

You looked up at the zig-zag blonde confused, as if you were really seeing him for the first time. 

"Wait, where am I? W-what…what year is it?"

Shinsou raised an eyebrow and shot Denki a concerned look. 

"You're in my apartment, babe, and the year is 2023." Denki answered without missing a beat.

You were clutching his arm now in a panicked state.

"N-no, that can't be right. The last thing that I remember was walking home and then there was this bright, green light and…"

Both males leaned into you mechanically, them wanting to give you their full attention as well as them being eager to hear what you have to say.

"It was like a fire in the sky; at first it was merely a spark against the soot of the night, when all of a sudden, it was surrounding me, a blazing hot inferno, as if I had stepped onto the Sun's surface." You explained with a shakiness to your voice.

"If you even attempted to touch the Sun, you'd vaporize before you could even reach the surface." Shinsou retorted smartly.

Denki seemed perturbed by the story that you're currently spouting, but he also couldn't deny that it had sparked his interest. 

"Leave it to Denki to bring home a crazy bitch and try to fuck…" Shinsou mumbled and reached into his jeans pocket for a Marlboro Menthol Black cigarette.

Said blonde swatted at Shinsou, a silent message for the lavender-haired man to shut the fuck up lest he scare away the barista's latest conquest.

"Hmm, what are you babbling about, sugar tits? There's no such thing as aliens and time travelers." He chuckled gleefully and cradled you closer to him.

How cute and funny you are.

His dick began to stir in his jeans from having you lie against him like this. Your tits spilled over the neckline of your top and brushed his chest.

Shinsou rolled his periwinkle eyes as he continued to smoke his cigarette and watch the wispy smoke curl up into the air. The minty, smoky odor mixed with the fruity one of Denki’s weed.

Those eyes then moved to the floor where your open purse was sitting by his feet. Inside, he could see a couple of pill bottles peeking out.

While you were busy whining to Denki about how you’d supposedly been abducted by aliens in your past life, Shinsou leaned down and scooped the three bottles up to read their white labels.

‘Haloperidol, chlorpromazine, and trifluoperazine. Antipsychotics?’

He rolled the bottles over in his hand then shot another look over to Denki, who seemed to have forgotten that Shinsou was even there.

The blonde's nimble fingers splayed across your back while his other hand rubbed up and down your shoulder.

Your breathing quickened and Denki took that as your arousal coming out, but your chest was constricting; you felt like you might be having a panic attack.

Shinsou stood up off the couch and moved Denki's hand off of your shoulder. Honey snapped up to meet periwinkle.

"What the fuck, dude?" 

The pill bottles shook in his face, making Denki squint as he tried to read the small black writing.

"What is this?"

"Antipsychotic medication! This chick is seriously screwed up! You shouldn't have given her that weed; it's likely the only reason she's falling all over you right now!"

Denki scoffed and rolled his eyes. In his mind, Shinsou is just envious that Denki got to you first, and the lavender-haired man was afraid for Denki to take the lead over him.

"Now when it's my chance to finally get ahead, you want to be a man of morals? Spare me the bullshit, please."

"Forget about the fucking board for a minute! You-"

Denki swiped the bottles out of Shinsou's hand and brought them in front of your face. His free hand moved from your back to your belly and down into the waistband of your skirt.

"Did you remember to take your medicine today, huh, pretty?" He asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. This revelation doesn't change anything for him; he's still hard and still wants to fuck you.

Your eyes refocus on him, only slightly, and you give a faraway nod.

"I did…I think.." 

He leaned forward to set the pill bottles on the coffee table. "Good girl…" He purred like a fat cat with a bowl full of fresh tuna.

Denki grabbed your exposed thigh and used it to pull your leg across his waist. Shinsou didn't miss how your cunt gripped the chartreuse lace of your panties as Denki exposed you to his sunken eyes. He bit his lip.

"You're really going to fuck her while she's like this?" His voice was thick with apprehension. 

Denki didn't falter; he even smirked.

"Sure am...not like I haven't done it before. You got a problem, you can leave. There's the door." He nodded his head behind him to the metal door that leads into the hallway.

Shinsou's jaw clenched; his pride wouldn't let him be outdone by a dumbass like Denki. Not by a long shot. 

Shinsou had to think of a plan and think of one fast before Denki would have your spaced-out ass bouncing on his dick in this very living room. 

"Hey…I've got an idea. If she claims she was abducted by aliens, I'll hypnotize her. That way, we'll know if she's really telling the truth or if she's just a nut."

Denki laughed at the double entendre. "She is just a nut, but I'm interested now. Do you really know how to hypnotize someone?" He asked, looking at Shinsou while standing up from the couch.

"Of course, I'm a licensed hypnotist." Shinsou lied, trying to save face. 

Denki positioned you in a supine position and crossed your arms over your chest.

"I'm going to hypnotize her, not put her in a fucking tomb." Shinsou rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. Just do it, before I get bored. Also, if you think you're going to trick me into giving her up, you've got another thing coming." Denki snapped.

His tone grew darker, possessive. He settled his long limbs onto the coffee table and pushed the cans and pizza boxes off to the side.

"Shut the fuck up." Shinsou mumbled. He walked over to the arm of the couch where your head is situated and stood over you.

Smoke-scented fingers caressed your cheek and jaw. You looked up into Shinsou's eyes and they turned dark like cold, jagged amethysts.

"I need you to relax for me, kitten. Breathe slow and easy, don't force them out. Just let them come slow and easy, just like that. Good girl." 

His hand moved to stroke your hair and your squinted eyes shut completely.

"Keep breathing and slowly begin to count backwards from fifty. Come on, do it for me, baby. I know you can." 

Denki's golden eyes watched with intent and arousal; watching you submit to Shinsou's whim so easily was making him even harder than he was previously.

"50…49…48…47…46…"

Your arms slumped by your sides as you drifted off. 

—--

1976

—--

The crickets' songs were melodious in your ears as you walked through your darkened college campus to get back to your dormitory.

The women's dorms were situated far from the main campus and the only way to get there was through a thick, wooded area.

"Silly me for not watching the time and ending up kicked out on my ass at 8pm at night. So not groovy." You chuckled.

Your platform sandals thumped against the ground, the material of your flared pants swishing over them with every calculated step that you took.

It was a bit of a chilly night, not unusual for your hometown, but tonight oddly seemed much colder.

The breeze ruffled your clothes and you looked up into the obsidian night sky. The moon was high and the stars swirled behind the dark gray clouds like a vortex, waiting to swallow up the wispy bits of condensation. 

"How beautiful…"

Suddenly, one of those stars began growing larger and larger. It seemed to be moving towards the Earth; a comet maybe?

No.

It's much bigger and much wider than a comet would be and it's…spinning.

Hot.

The heat was all around you at once and you were trapped. A mechanical whirring sound reverberated in your ears and drummed against your brain. 

Bright, green light emanated from the flying disk as it landed amongst the trees, crushing many of them under its massive weight. 

The sound of multiple tree trunks cracking and bending under it sounded like multiple whips cracking against flesh and the sound made you wince. You dropped your books and covered your ears. 

"What…this can't be happening right now…"

You whispered softly and clenched your eyes shut. The biting cold was now no match for the heat that had engulfed your entire being. 

You fainted.

—--

We are not the same. I am a Martian..

We are not the same. I am a Martian..

(Greetings from Planet Weezy,

We will begin transmission in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…)

Phone home! (Weezy)

Phone home! (Weezy)

Phone home! (Weezy)

Phone home! (Weezy)

And if you feel like you're the best go 'head and do the Weezy-wee and

Phone home! (Weezy)

Phone home! (Weezy)

—-

You awoke sometime later in a cold room with steel walls.

"What happened to me..I..what the hell?"

You tried to move your arms, but they were strapped down on either side of your head with thick leather straps.

"What the fuck?! Let me go! Let me out of here! Anybody! Somebody - help me!"

All of your racket must have alerted whoever else was on the ship with you, because the metal door opened, lifting up from the floor slowly.

Purple smoke filtered under the door and two white-robed figures walked in.

You looked at them and they looked back at you. Then they looked at each other and began speaking in a language that your puny human brain couldn't even begin to comprehend.

The two of them looked like regular humans, but you knew that they were anything but.

The shorter one of the two, a blonde with a black zig-zag stripe through one side of his hair, focused on you. 

He was wearing blue visor-like eyewear that shielded his honey-colored eyes from your vision. The man began to approach your bedside and only upon closer inspection did you realize that he was carrying a metal try with various surgical tools on it.

While the blonde situated himself on a stool beside your bed, the other, a much taller man with wild purple hair, matching eyes, and a black mouthpiece concealing the lower portion of his face sat down at the foot of your bed…table…examination table.

He said something else to the blonde, who nodded without looking up from the laptop that he was now typing on.

He moved a slim finger to press something on the screen - you couldn't read the text, it must be in whatever language they were speaking - and you noticed that his skin was a sickly-looking pale green color and his fingers ended in very sharp black talons.

Definitely not human.

—-

We are not the same, I am a Martian

And I'm hotter than summer rain like Carl Thomas

Lock, load, ready to aim at any target 

I could get your brains for a bargain like I bought it from Target 

—-

The purple-haired one seemed content with just watching you, but he began twisting the knobs on the sides of his mouthpiece.

Greetings, human.

The sound rang inside your head like a bell. It didn't seem to have come from his mouth, but since you couldn't see his lips, you really didn't know. 

"I-I…what do you plan to do with me? Please, just let me go home…!"

You pleaded to him, but your cries didn't seem to really affect him. He just continued staring at you, as if you were an insect under a microscope..

An insect that he could easily overpower and crush if you even tried to defy him or his partner. 

We plan to cause you no harm, if and only if you obey us and let us perform some examinations on you…

"W-What kind of examinations?"

The blonde, now finished with his computer work, rose from the stool and grabbed the metal tray.

He joined the purple one at the foot of your bed, having pulled the stool with him to sit back down on.

The purple one said no more, but the blonde reached for your feet and placed them into stirrups at the bottom of the bed.

This setup is one that you're quite familiar with…is he planning to… give you a feminine wellness exam?

Your thoughts on that were quickly diverted once you saw the tools that the blonde had actually picked up.

He wore thick blue gloves made of, what you assumed might be latex, but it had to be stronger or his claws would've ripped right through them.

"No…no no no no…please!" You pleaded, thrashing against the table widely.

In one hand he held what looked like a transvaginal ultrasound probe but on a much larger scale then what you'd find in any doctor's office on Earth.

The blonde spoke again to his companion, his tone coming across as annoyed. 

The purple-haired man slowly rose from his seat and walked over to you.

He placed his large hand atop your sweaty hair and began to gently stroke it in an effort to calm you down.

Hush now, if you don't lie still I'm going to have to sedate you.

Why couldn't you have just done that in the first damn place!?

You wanted to argue back, but thought it less than wise to do so.

The blonde continued on since you seemed to be distracted now. Deciding to not look at whatever he was about to do to you, you focused your attention on the purple-haired man.

He looked into your eyes and his own wrinkled at the corners, like he might be smiling at you. His sharp nails lightly skimmed over your scalp creating a tingling sensation.

Very good, pet. You're doing so well…

He reached behind his head and began to undo the contraption over his mouth.

The last thing that you saw was a wide mouth full of rows of razor-sharp teeth and a long, purple reptilian tongue.

—

We are not the same, I am an alien

Like Gonzales, young college 

Student, who done just flipped the game like Houston

I'm use to Promethazine and two cups, I'm screwed up

And you ain't shit if you ain't never been screwed up

Flow so sick, make you wanna throw your food up

—-

The blonde man pushed the large instrument inside of you and watched from a screen situated above your bed to make sure that he was maneuvering it correctly. 

The large instrument stretched the skin of your stomach so lewdly and the purple-haired man watched it maneuver inside of you, intrigued.

Then, with a very long and very thin needle, the blonde penetrated your belly in order to get to your ovaries and retrieve some eggs.

When he finished, he removed his gloves and washed his hands in a wide, oval-shaped sink made of what looked like pure white marble.  

Your face was covered in sweat and you were breathing heavily, but both men were cooing over you now, stroking your arms and legs while speaking in their strange language.

You didn't exactly remember it, but you somehow ended up back in the forest where you started.

Five days later.

Your roommate, teachers, colleagues, and parents were all worried sick about you, and finally, you were found on the fifth day, curled up in a ball in the middle of the forest.

They were scared that you might have been drugged and assaulted or worse, had a delusional episode and had wandered off by yourself and gotten lost in the forest.

You had no clothes on when they found you; the only thing covering you was a thin blanket made of a shimmery-metallic colored fabric.

The story became a big sensation in your town, but many were skeptical of you because of your schizophrenia.

You went on to finish college and live a pretty successful life, but that one night all those years ago still haunted you..

—-

I never had life and I never had fear

I rap like I done died and gone to heaven I swear

And yeah I'mma bear, like black and white hair, so I'm polar

And they can't get on my system cause my system is the Solar

I am so far from the othars, I meant others

I just eat them for supper, get in my spaceship and hover, hover

—-

Present Day, 2023

—-

"Damn, it really worked…" Denki said in awe as his eyes raked over your still body. "Isn't she supposed to like, talk, though? She hasn't said a word."

Currently, you haven't really said anything or moved much. Shinsou really had no idea what the hell he was doing, but he knew that he hadn't killed you, so all wasn't lost.

"She's so cute, I could give a damn about her stupid alien story." Denki got up from the coffee table and began unbuckling his jeans. 

"Whoa, you're really going to fuck an unconscious girl?" Shinsou asked, a bit taken aback.

The blonde scoffed, "Please, cut the nice guy act, will you? It really doesn't suit you. Besides, I saw her first, so I'm going to fuck her." He shrugged, uncaring. 

"Wait, stop. She just moved. She can probably hear us." Shinsou looked at your face, and sure enough your lips were moving and you were mumbling something.

"Please stop…hurts…let me go…help...someone…" Tumbled out of your Chapstick-coated lips.

"She's probably talking to the aliens, so she's not unconscious." Denki snickered. He elbowed Shinsou out of the way and straddled your legs over the couch. A zipper came down and he was now palming his hard cock in one hand while the other reached to pull your top down.

His hand then slapped your face and you jolted, but didn't open your eyes.

"With that weed, her psycho meds, and whatever the hell you just did, we just made her into the perfect little fuck doll for us to enjoy."

"Us? This is crazy…I can't…" Shinsou cut himself off as he looked at the board again.

If he didn't do this, he would be behind Denki.

He would lose to Denki.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Either we fuck her together or no one does and the board remains as is. So what'll it be, Hitoshi?"

—-

I got a dirty mind

I got filthy ways

I'm tryna bathe my ape (ape) in your Milky Way (Way)

I'm a legend, I'm irreverent, I be reverend

I'll be so far u-u-u-p

We don't give a f-u-u-uck

Welcome to the danger zone, step into the fantasy 

You are not invited to the other side of sanity

They calling me an alien, a big-headed astronaut

Maybe it's because ya boy Yeezy get ass a lot

—-

Shinsou situated himself back at the edge of the couch where your head was.

He pulled his own zipper down and let his dick flop right on out and rest against your soft cheek.

"So soft and warm…" His fingers curled into your hair as he began stroking himself. 

"Bet her mouth is much softer and much warmer." Denki sighed. He was jacking himself off with your pretty lace panties wrapped around his condom-covered cock.

—-

You're so, hypnotizing

Could you be the devil? 

Could you be an angel?

Your touch, magnetizing 

Feels like I am floating

Leaves my body glowing 

They say "Be afraid"

You're not like the others

Futuristic lover

Different DNA

They don't understand you 

You're from a whole 'nother world

A different dimension 

You open my eyes 

And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light  

—-

"Probably right…let's find out." Shinsou huffed breathlessly.

He leaned over you, parted your lips with two fingers, and spat into your mouth.

His cold, thin lips covered yours as he kissed you fully on the mouth, slipping his tongue inside.

—-

Kiss me, k-k-kiss me

Infect me with your lovin', fill me with your poison 

Take me, t-t-take me

Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction

Boy, you're an alien 

Your touch, so foreign 

It's supernatural 

Extraterrestrial

—-

After releasing his warm cum all over your pussy, Denki reached for a small box underneath the couch.

Inside were two electric nipple clamps.

"These will really give her the shock of her life." He grinned and attached them to your erect nipples. 

"Wanna do the honors?" He tossed the small, black remote to Shinsou, who was rubbing his swollen cock over your wet lips.

Shinsou pressed a button on the remote and your body jerked from the electric shock, making Denki giggle.

—-

You're so supersonic

Wanna feel your power

Stun me with your laser

Your kiss, is cosmic

Every move is magic

You're from a whole 'nother world

A different dimension 

You open my eyes 

And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light 

—-

"Fuck..!"

"S-shit.."

Both men moved in a rhythm; Denki thrusting into your cunt while Shinsou did the same action with your mouth.

"I'm going to…blow my fucking load..ahh shit, she's so tight for such a dumb slut." Denki groaned, his hips jerking faster and faster, making the couch scrape back and forth against the floor. 

"I'm close, too…fuck…so good…such a good kitten, take all of my cum, now. Drink it all up like a good bitch." 

Shinsou's head flopped forward and he grasped one of your tits while he orgasmed hard.

His cum flooded your mouth and spilled over the sides. The lavender-haired man tutted and used his thumb to push it back inside your mouth.

"Fuck!" Denki shouted and sunk his knees into the couch as he came hard into the condom. He had to catch his breath before he climbed off of you. Your panties were stuffed in his back pocket as he went to trash the condom and clean himself up.

Shinsou sank down onto the coffee table and pulled out another cigarette while he watched you.

It was now evening and the windows had darkened along with the changing sky.

Multiple stars littered the sky outside and the moon shone through the window where Denki had left the curtains open a smidgen.

When Denki came back, you were coming to with a shocked and confused look on your face. 

"It's you, again…it's you! You came back!" You cried. 

Without any care for how you might've looked, you sat upright urgently and wrapped your arms around yourself.

The blonde and purple-haired men just stared at you with bored expressions on their faces. 

They had gotten what they wanted and now had no use for you or any regard for your well-being whatsoever. 

That blonde and lavender hair, those sharp, cunning eyes…they were the same as those from all those years ago…how could you have not noticed it before?

"Stay away from me, you monsters!" 

You threw a pillow from the couch at Denki and he caught it. A smirk covered his lips as he watched you run out of the door with your skirt pushed up your hips, no shoes, no purse, and your hand haphazardly holding your breasts inside your top.

"Do you think she'll tell anyone?" Shinsou asked, smoke curling from his lips as he spoke.

Denki reached for another pre-rolled blunt that had been pushed off the side of the table during your activities. 

"Even if she did, who would believe a crazy bitch like her?"

—-

You ran completely out of the building, into the night.

You didn't know exactly where you were running to, but you knew that you had to get away from there.

Ahh, there you are. We've finally found you, again.

Your head whipped around behind you, where you could see two, tall, robed figures standing there. The moonlight reflected off of that tell-tale visor, while long, skinny fingers clicked and turned the wheels on the sides of a black mouthpiece. 

Our little test subject…

You screamed. 

—-

I know a bar out in Mars

Where they driving spaceships instead of cars

Cop a Prada space suit up out the stars

Getting stupid high straight up out the jars

Pockets on Shrek, rockets on deck

Tell me what's next? Alien sex?

I'ma disrobe you, then I'ma probe you

See, I abducted you, so I tell you what to do

(I tell you what to do, what to do, what to do)

Kiss me, k-k-kiss me

Infect me with your lovin', fill me with your poison 

Take me, t-t-take me

Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction

Boy, you're an alien 

Your touch, so foreign 

It's supernatural 

Extraterrestrial

----

*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!