#not to be mean or do a 'gotcha' or anything like that. not ever. but for fun! to let folks engage and go a little feral!!

[mxstellatayte]

pretty please: chapter two.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter two warnings: covid happens :(, avoiding big emotional conversations, phone sex (not graphic,) i definitely deleted any and all covid social distancing rules when i was writing this but it'S FOR THE PLOT, oral sex (f receiving, not graphic,) LEWIS IS SUGAR DADDY!!!!!!!! (but there's also feelings but we don't want to admit that yet hehehehehehe)

chapter two word count: 3.7k

taglist (crossed out means i could not tag you/no blog was found): @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy

@anat33-blog1 @Xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17

@marknolee @toby33b @theendofthematerialgworl @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808

join my taglist here!

take my hand while we dance on the edge of a knife

tuesday, 3 december, 2019

your phone chimes in the formula 1 radio tone, a custom ringtone you'd set just for lewis. glancing away from your computer screen, you see a simple text.

Hey.

what should you say? "hey yourself?" no, too sassy. "hey, thanks for the mind-blowing sex a few days ago. i think i'm into you, do you wanna go out?" way too forward. "hey!" too excited.

you settle on a simple "hey." in response.

for good measure, you add on a second text.

Thanks for the flight yesterday :)

his response? a simple "Yeah of course!"

"alright. so i'm going to have to be the one to bring it up. gotcha."

so this was the dance that you'd be doing. you'd just move on from the most life-changing sex you've ever had with four texts. you'd take a step forward, try to ask about what this would mean for your professional relationship, if anything, and he'd have one-sentence answers before moving on to a different topic.

that's fine.

it totally didn't make you insane.

definitely not.

instead of thinking about your client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy over your winter holidays, you opt for drowning yourself in advance work, opting to make your contributions to the february 2020 issue the best the world has ever seen. your articles for the january issue are long submitted, but now that you've submitted everything for finalization for the next two months, you have a staycation at home with your cats, crochet, shitty reality tv, and a lot of alcohol filling up your schedule for the next two weeks (and a short visit to your parents up in leeds for christmas, but that's naught but a short interruption to your routine,) and you don't intend on letting work interrupt a single moment of the next two weeks.

the key word in that sentence being intend.

although, is it really considered work if it's just texting back and forth with someone who's a client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy and not exactly a coworker?

"girl, i swear down on my nan's grave," amelia begins, and you grin, already knowing you're about to get a true amelia lorenz lecture, "if you don't make a move on him before new year's, i will, and i don't think he even knows my name!" she continues by weaving an intricate web of every single sign she's seen that points to the mutual attraction between yourself and the driver, and you're not sure when the right time is to tell her that you've already had sex with him. luckily, you find an opportunity when she stands from your couch to refill her glass of whiskey and pauses her monologue.

"is now a good time to tell you that we shagged after abu dhabi?"

amelia's head whips around so fast you're surprised it doesn't snap off of her neck. "you what?" you grin sheepishly, any and all confidence you've ever had in your entire life having evaporated in a microsecond. when she sits down opposite you on the couch, her left leg tucked into her crotch and her right hanging off the side, she has to set her glass on your coffee table so that she doesn't splash the whiskey everywhere. you both know what's coming purely based off of her body language. she takes a deep breath, then presses her hands together in a prayer-like stace and rests the nook of her nose in her fingertips. "let me get this straight." she pauses. "you." her right hand points directly at you as she says your full name. "shagged the lewis hamilton. and you didn't tell me immediately?"

"why do you think i wasn't on the flight back?" amelia's eyes widen in realization, and a grin spreads across her face.

"he flew you back on his jet?" you nod, taking another sip of your drink, and amelia squeals with delight. "i need every single detail. start talking."

friday, 13 march, 2020

your phone vibrates on your desk, and you glance over at it, unlocking it when you see the f1 logo on the notification. your heart sinks when you see what the notification reads, though.

"formula 1, fia and agpc announce cancellation of the 2020 australian grand prix"

"shit," you mutter, switching your phone off and resting your head in your hands. it won't be long before the lockdown reaches london, you know that, but it's difficult knowing that lewis was looking forward to being in the car again, especially with some of the new regulations that he hoped would lead to closer racing.

you send him a text before you go to sleep- it's almost 3 am.

Sorry to hear about the race. I know you were looking forward to driving.

by the time you've fallen asleep, though, lewis has seen your text and he gnaws at his lower lip, his thumbs hesitating over the keyboard of his phone's screen. yeah, he was looking forward to driving, but as the pandemic numbers increased, his anxiety about the race weekend did, too.

Thanks. I'm glad they called it off, though. The numbers were getting too high too fast.

months pass. your interviews with various drivers at the monaco and british grands prix are moved to video calls. the world gets thrown into lockdown, eases out of it, and then gets thrown into lockdown once more. dolphins are spotted in the canals of venice. george floyd's murder sparks a revolution that reaches all corners of the globe.

you don't go a day without texting, calling, or video calling with lewis.

it's sickening, really, how much his smile is keeping you sane. well, if you're being honest, it's a combination of his smile, your medication, and going on a lot of walks around your neighbourhood. leytonstone is a lovely part of london, yes, but there's only so many different routes you can take around the neighbourhood before you start itching to jump on a train and go anywhere.

in early june, you get the email. you'll be traveling to silverstone for a set of interviews with various drivers for the 70th anniversary race. it's the fifth of seventeen races on the updated calendar, and the email states that you may be sent to the abu dhabi grand prix, as well.

wednesday, 29 july, 2020.

you're practically vibrating with excitement as you board the first of four trains that will take you to your hotel. you're leaving a week before you're due in silverstone, though, because why wouldn't you take advantage of the double header race? you've never been to a race purely as a spectator and your giddiness makes you laugh. how going to a race has given you the butterflies in your stomach that you haven't felt since you were a teenager, you'll never know. sure, with the fia's no-spectator rule, you aren't really sure how people are planning on watching the race, but you're sure you'll learn as the weekend progresses. either way, you're one of many fans taking the train up to silverstone despite the rules stating that no fans could enter the paddock or the grandstands, many hopeful that simply being in the same general area might get them a chance of seeing any of the drivers in person. a few of the racing fans on the train even recognize you, one timidly holding the july 2019 edition of vogue.

the edition where your first interview with lewis was published.

"could you sign it?"

your jaw opens and closes beneath your mask a few times before you're able to regain your composure, accepting the magazine and sharpie from her with a smile.

"what's your name, darling? here, sit with me." she does, sitting across the aisle from you and nervously tucking a curl of ginger-brown hair behind her ear.

"kathleen. but you can call me kat," she adds, and you smile as you write a small note on the inside cover, adding your signature afterwards. "are you interviewing lewis hamilton this weekend?"

"i don't have any interviews this weekend. just next weekend." you look more intently at kat's outfit, and you smile below your mask. she's wearing a mercedes hoodie and baggy jeans, and you notice that her outfit reminds you of someone. "i like your outfit. it reminds me of some of lewis' outfits, actually." kat beams beneath her mask, her eyes scrunching up into happy crescents.

"thank you! he's kinda the inspiration behind my outfits for the weekend. i'm a huge fan of him, have been for years. i'll be honest, i didn't read much about fashion until you interviewed him, but i really liked your article and looked up some of your others. the one you wrote critiquing paparazzi for stalking celebrities was incredible! you wrote it so freely. i loved it." kat catches herself, noticing her rambling, folding her hands in her lap nervously. "sorry. i talk when i'm nervous."

"you have nothing to be nervous about. i'm just another human being." you hesitate a moment, leaning over to her as you pass the magazine and sharpie marker back. "can i tell you a secret?" she nods. "i was terrified the first time i interviewed lewis." kat's eyes grow wide, and you nod. "i was so nervous. i almost got sick a couple of times, actually."

"really?"

"mhm. i'm surprised i didn't."

"i definitely would."

"i doubt that. lewis is as nice- if not nicer- than he seems. after the first five minutes of talking to him, i knew i had nothing to worry about."

the two of you spend the remaining time on the trains talking together, and she animatedly drags her father towards you and you shake his hand, introducing yourself.

"pleasure to meet you. my name's dan. thank you for being a role model for my little girl." your heart swells with pride at the praise, and you nod.

"you're raising a very fine young woman, dan. she's got a bright future ahead of her." dan nods and thanks you, grinning behind his mask. you know, from what kat's told you, that dan has been a fan of formula 1 since the michael schumacher days and that he's been to three grands prix in his life- silverstone 2003, silverstone 2004, and germany 2008. this'll be his fourth. you also know that the white and papaya t-shirt he's wearing is from the most recent race he's attended. "do you happen to have instagram, dan?"

"i do, why?" his eyes narrow slightly, and you can understand why your question seems a little strange.

"i'm writing a piece about fan presence at recent grands prix, since there's been the 'no fans allowed inside' order from the fia, and would love to interview you and kat before and after the weekend," you lie. "i'd be willing to keep you both anonymous, if you'd like. if i can message you on instagram, it wouldn't be as much of a hassle as writing emails to communicate."

"i'd prefer we remain anonymous, but i'm sure she'd love to be interviewed."

you can't tie me down, but you can tie me up

thursday, 30 july, 2020.

the next morning, you call lewis, the hotel's breakfast menu next to you on your bed and your notepad perched on your lap, your pre-weekend "interview" with dan and kat in just over 90 minutes. lewis picks up the call on the third ring.

"hey!" you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much, a rush of dopamine flooding your brain at the sound of his voice. "can i call you back in half an hour? i've got media stuff to do in about five minutes."

"i'll be fast. can you get two paddock passes made for sunday under the names kathleen and dan gallagher?"

"they'll have to be media passes, but yeah, why?"

"you'll see. i'll text you the names so you have them. see you in a few days!"

after texting bono a quick message regarding your own pass and ensuring that he would keep it completely and entirely a secret from lewis, you flop backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "what the hell have i gotten myself into?"

since the pandemic began, your relationship with lewis has been... well... less than professional.

your daily phone calls and texts with him have contained topics that still make shivers run up your spine and a flush of heat fill your cheeks and neck when you think about them. there have been many nights where you've been on a call with lewis and you're both breathing heavily, clothes messily strewn across your respective beds in a rush to lay back against your pillows and touch yourself to completion, obeying each other's commands and wishes.

there have also been many nights where you're tucked into your beds, roscoe fast asleep next to lewis and your own furry companions, pipsqueak and garfburger, the latter of which amelia named, curled into a ball of rare calmness next to you. the two of you ultimately fall asleep on the call, the idea of having someone with you, even if not physically, helping soothe your anxiety.

both types of calls are incredibly intimate and beautiful, each in their own way.

four days later, you're meeting up with bono outside the paddock to get your own pass and messaging back and forth with dan, attempting to figure out where you can meet him near the paddock entrance. trying to explain to him why you need to meet up today when your scheduled interview time is tomorrow without giving too many details proves to be a difficult task but you're thankfully able to manage. five minutes after bono appears, three media passes in hand, you see dan and kat round the corner. you wave him down, a smile on your face, and kat immediately comes running over to you. today, she sports a pair of baggy jeans, a hamilton jersey over what you assume is the same mercedes hoodie she was wearing on the train, and an incredibly well-loved pair of black platform converse.

"good morning to you both," you say, a bright grin on your face beneath your mask. from the way kat's eyes scrunch up behind glasses you can tell her own smile outshines your own.

"good morning! dad said you had some mid-weekend questions for us?"

"well..." your eyes flick back and forth between dan and kat, and you can see the gears turning in dan's head, but kat remains oblivious. "the mid-weekend questions were a bit of a lie, but i think- i hope- that what i have in my jacket pocket is enough for you to forgive me." with that, you pull the two black and purple media passes out of your jacket, check which one has kat's name on it and which has dan's, and hand them to their respective owners. "kathleen and dan gallagher, welcome to the formula 1 silverstone paddock."

"are you serious?" dan says in disbelief, and when you nod, kat squeaks in delight and throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around you in a vice grip.

"thank you thank you, thank you!"

"you're very welcome. are you ready to go see some cool cars?"

"is that a joke? of course!" kat looks at her father, hoping for some small nod of approval, and, when he does, you think the girl still glued to your torso might just combust from excitement. you can tell that dan's barely containing his own joy, his eyes mirroring the amount of joy you see in kat's.

"in that case, let's go." after about an hour of walking through the paddock, finding spare headsets in the mclaren garage, and smiling as kat and dan can't control their own amazement at the works of engineering in front of them land sheepishly asking a few drivers for photos,) you make your way, finally, to the mercedes garage. "re you two hungry at all? care for a coffee or tea? mercedes has the best food in the paddock. "

"i'd love a coffee, actually." dan says. "kat? you want anything?"

"a cuppa sounds perfect, thank you."

"i've got it. here, have a seat, i'll be right back, " you say, attempting to sound as casual as physically possible when you know you're about to blow their minds. they sit at one of the tables in the small cafe, and you go up to the barista, ordering dan and kat's drinks before ducking away and making your way to lewis' driver's room, knocking a few times and stepping back, smiling when the door opens and you see him, fuck, he looks good. "hi, lewis."

he knew you were going to be in silver stone for the 70th anniversary race, but that isn't until next weekend. "you've here early," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "why's that?"

"i can't want to see my favorite driver at his home race?" you cock an eyebrow and cross your arms, but there's sarcasm evident in your voice. "plus, i missed you. can i tie up your schedule for a bit?"

"it depends. how is my schedule being tied up if i agree?" lewis is matching your own bass, and you smile.

"just some people i'd like you to meet. remember those passes i asked you to have made? well... they're in the cafe and i think the cherry on top of their day would be meeting you."

"in that case, you can tie up my schedule, but i only have fifteen minutes before the strategy meeting." you grin brightly, and your eyes squishing in the corners makes lewis smile in turn, "before we go, though, i do have a little request. come in for a quick minute?" he steps to the side and you gladly follow, turning towards lewis when you hear the door click shut behind you. he's taking off his Mercedes- branded face mask, and you take that as permission lo take your own off. "you know..." he begins, stepping towards you. your breath catches in your throat as all of your senses one immediately overwhelmed with everything lewis. his left hand comes up to hold your and check you gladly lean into his touch, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast his calloused to fingertips. the next words he says ring in your head, repeating like church bells.

"i missed you, too." those words are the last thing you process before lewis' lips are on yours and every ounce of tension leaves your body.

"mm, lewis, " you say, pulling away from the blissful kiss much to your dismay. "our guests are waiting." lewis groans, and you giggle.

"fine, but after we've done with that and i'm free from my strategy meeting, we're coming back here and finishing what we started."

"deal."

kat and dan are, obviously, completely and entirely dumbfounded when you return to the cafe, six-time world champion in tow.

they're even happier when they watch lewis cross the line in first place, five seconds ahead of max verstappen.

after the podium and post-race interviews, you find yourself crowded against the wall of lewis' driver's room yet again. your kisses are hot and messy, desperate hands wandering around each other's bodies. sometime in the lust-addled haze, you're laying back onto the couch pushed against the back wall and your jeans are being thrown somewhere across the room. whatever, you don't care where they are or how wrinkled they're going to be because lewis is eating you out again and, within minutes, you're cumming on his tongue again as his nose bumps against your clit. when he kisses you, your cum smears on your cheeks and chin and nose and it's so, so filthy, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"are you coming to any other races this year?" lewis speaks up, his voice echoing through his chest. he's found you a pair of joggers that you'd slipped on after another set of blissful kisses and a messy (but very perfect) handjob. he's laying on the couch and you're resting on top of him, your arms wrapped around his torso and his own surrounding your shoulders. your socked feet are tangled with lewis' own, and his fingers, unusually absent of any jewelry, run gently along the curve of your shoulders.

"i'm not sure. i haven't gotten any race assignments yet from upper management, and traveling is really difficult right now if you don't have a work visa."

"i bet i can send some emails." you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"lewis," you scoff, burying your face in his chest. he smells like forests and jasmine and safety. "you're going to be the death of me."

[starflungwaddledee]

going on the topic of one of your latest asks (the one about clockwork stars), was that person who was talking in the art bandee?

also since the person just wished to "bring him back", does that mean that galacta knight stays in the timeline, just with meta being out of the rock candy? or does gala get kicked out of the timeline and back into the rock candy?

or even better, erase galacta's influence on the timeline?

going to answer this one incredibly vaguely...

obviously this is a pretty key moment in the AU, and i will admit upfront that the art i posted was purposefully a little bit misleading to maintain suspense haha. but here's some direct answers:

no, it was not bandee talking.

and it almost certainly would have had the first result, if the dialogue we saw had been the actual wish. but it wasn't.

[wooahaes]

skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[svtswhorehouse]

OT 13 : edging vs overstimulation — nsfw

Seungcheol : overstimulation. honestly, i feel as if he’s the type of person to use it as a punishment. ya’ll would probably go through like a hundred different positions and he’ll make you cum with every single one before he can switch to the next. would hit you with that faux sympathy and imitate a pouty face when he slows down to check on you. when you say you’re okay, he’ll slam back into you again. won’t stop until you use your safe word, but will take a break if you really need it. needs to see your mascara running, desperate doe eyes, and fucked out expression the entire time.

Jeonghan : edging. oh baby, good luck with this one. A MENACE. would probably do it for hours until you’re crying and a babbling mess. he lowkey gets off on how pathetic and dumb you get for him. likes being begged, so he might gaslight you into thinking you don’t want it as much as you say you do which will make you even more desperate. the type to use anything from his tongue, to his dick, to toys — you’ve grown to hate vibrators overtime. also another one who would fake being sympathetic and imitate your sad face. he would probably play dumb like “what baby? why are you crying?” he’s a meanie overall, and will do it just for fun but he’ll make you feel good so don’t you worry your pretty little head.

Joshua : edging. he’s honestly such a sweet and caring person, but he’s also friends with jeonghan and apart of the 95’ line so what do you expect. some days he would choose to be nice, but other days he would decide to be a tease. honestly, not that bad though. he would only do it for a little while before deciding you’ve had enough. lowkey likes it when you cry. he has the biggest hands in seventeen so he utilizes them a lot, especially when it comes to you. enjoys the way you clench around them whenever he stops. he definitely takes time to examine your face which a teasing smile and ask you “what’s wrong,” even though he knows he’s being an ass.

Jun : edging. tbh, does it just to laugh and be a little shit. will be fingering you, pull away really quickly and look back up at you with a smile on his face. will probably be like “ha, you thought,” or “gotcha.” let’s out the cutest giggle whenever he does it that sometimes it’s difficult for you to be mad at him. does it a few times before you smack him on his shoulder and threaten him with no pussy for a week. will definitely let you cum after that.

Hoshi : overstimulation. HOSHI IS A MUNCH AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. would probably choose to live between your thighs if you let him tbh. def eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it’s his last meal he’ll ever have. probably enjoys it more than you do. you can push him away all you want, but he’ll come right back (will literally beg you if that’s what it takes, he loves pussy). main dancer and his stamina is insane, so he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you really, he can just go for hours. you would definitely have to take breaks in between rounds with this one.

Wonwoo : edging. finds it amusing. might tie you up, just to keep you still whenever he decides to go to town on your pussy. he’ll shoot you a little smirk from time to time which will end up pissing you off because he def knows he’s being an asshole. prefers to edge you with his cock, he likes the way your pussy flutters around it whenever he stops. also, his favorite time to do it is whenever he’s gaming. he’ll have you sit on his cock and have you do all the work while he plays a video game. it’s only when your whines start getting louder and movements start to get fast when he’ll place a firm hand on your hip and hold you in place. loves when you look at him all teary eyed, but still promises he’ll make you feel good after. no one said how long his game was gonna last though so good luck.

Woozi : wild card. depends on what HE feels like. you have no say. you just shut your mouth and look pretty for him. if he’s stressed he’ll edge you, but if he needs a mental break or something, he’ll overstimulate you. will definitely happen in his studio the most, just cause that’s where most of his stress leads back to — writing and producing. enjoys cockwarming while he works, but if you’re being stubborn and moving too much, he’ll decide to fuck and overstimulate you. will be like “i thought this is what you wanted baby? couldn’t stay still cause you wanted my cock so bad hm?”

Dokyeom : overstimulation. he’s just happy to please overall. also another one that doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. he just wants to make you feel good and when you try and push him away, he just might look at you with puppy dog eyes. also loves when you sit on his face, he feels like he can be as messy as he wants. asks why you’re crying, but not in a mocking type of way, he just genuinely doesn’t know that it feels too good that it’s getting hard to hold yourself up. it’s a good thing he’s strong.

Mingyu : overstimulation. i feel like he has an oral fixation and cures it by eating you out tbh. this big and beefy man specifically loves it when you sit on his face. if you hover over him for a second too long, he’s pulling you down and holding you in place. obviously he’s ridiculously strong so when you try and pull away, he doesn’t let you. will gaslight you into thinking you can take one more, even if it’s the hundredth time and you’ll agree just because it feels too good to say no. will cage you in with his arms and fucks you so good you wouldn’t be able to utter an audible sentence. likes when yours eyes get all dazed and it looks as if there’s not a thought in your head. he’ll be on a mission to make you squirt.

Minghao : edging. says that you need to practice patience ???? might use it as a learning experience for you ???? might make you want to kill him after ???? lmao. i feel as if he’s more likely to deny your orgasm completely than to edge you. like he would edge for a bit, but overall wouldn’t let you cum. he says it’s to learn to be more patient, but really he just enjoys how desperate and whiny you get after. will definitely fuck you nice and good when y’all get in bed for the night. might tease you by edging you once, but when tears start to brim your eyes, he’ll let up. just, be a good girl for him and don’t piss him off.

Seungkwan : edging. honestly, he’s sweet with it. will check in on you often and make sure you’re doing okay. seungkwan’s favorite way of edging you is by literally having you grind on his thigh. he enjoys how easy it is to get you off and likes to see his skin coated with your slick. also, he def knows his quads are strong af so why would you not wanna ride his thigh? will mutter words of encouragement and praise, even when he stops your movements. knows that him shaking his leg really helps so he’ll stop moving altogether when he feels like you’re getting close. a sucker for your tears so he might give in if you play your cards right.

Vernon : honestly, whatever you want. goes with the flow and the mood. vernon is the type of guy who might let you take the lead. if you wanted to dom for the night then okay. if you wanted to fuck in a bathroom then okay. if you wanted to be edged or overstimulated then he will help you. won’t do it as a punishment, but it’s also not something that he thinks of. you might have to bring it up or give him hints before he can act on it. you might also have to control it so like when you think you’re gonna cum you might have to push him away, or if you want to be overstimulated, just take the lead and hold him close.

Dino : overstimulation. another main dancer right here. he has a lot of energy in him. you would want it as much as he’s happy to give it though. y’all are definitely the type of couple to fuck like two bitches in heat. he would be on a mission to either see how many surfaces y’all could fuck on or how many rounds he’s capable of going which will therefore lead to you getting overstimulated. honestly, doesn’t mean to overstimulate you he just gets a little excited. will apologize after and be so soft with you though so it’s okay.

[cubeshapedlemon]

Atomic Baby

You, a wastelander are captured by an unfortunate group of men, your knight in dusty leather does more for you than you originally thought he would.

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Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x f!reader

6.2k words

cw & tags: general smut, piv, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), cannon typical violence, unwanted (implied) sexual advances(not by cooper), brief alcohol use, use of pet names, heavy flirting, cannon typical drug use

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authors note: this is my first fallout fic! im hoping to write more! (check out my pinned post for more info) and my first nsfw one so i hope you enjoy. Tbh there are some moments where he is slightly ooc, just kinder than in cannon but whatever. There is a large possibility that this could become a multi-chapter at some point but it can 100% be read free standing. please reblog if you wish but do not repost or translate anywhere without my permission. anyway thank you! and let me know if you notice any mistakes or something i missed in the tags!

Waking up to three weaselly looking men looming over you with a rather sharp looking hatchet, not the best thing ever. Your little camp seeming to be ransacked already, you glare up. The one who seems to be the leader of their little group ties a rough length of rope to your wrists as the other two rifle through your bag. Hauling you up they force you to start waking.

The scorching hot sun beams down on your shoulders as you walk. The irradiated heat of the wasteland is never forgiving, especially not recently; even at night it’s been like sleeping in an oven.

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Walking, endless walking. It has already been about an hour or so since your capture. The winds picking up, trapping your lungs with dusty red soil. Phlegmy coughs and chortles follow behind you. At least they aren't at your side anymore, for the first half hour or so they would take turns shoulder checking you… or spitting at you… or tripping you… really anything those dirty bastards could think of. At this point their boredom with you is really coming to your advantage.

The greasy men are probably hoping to sell you or your organs for a few caps. Either one, not fantastic. Soil kicks up around you, forceful wind driving you to trudge forward with more effort. Glancing down at your wrists you start to feel some relief, the knot binding your wrists getting looser by the second. The dumb bastards clearly were no eagle scouts, their poor attempt at a knot slowly unfurling as you walk.

Looking forward again you have some hope. A dinghy looking town ahead of you. Walking closer and closer you see something in the town? Someone? Oh thank the lord someone. Maybe there is hope for you after all, I mean just weighing the odds, what are the chances that this random person is also chomping at the bit for some extra caps? Thinking about it now, they probably are. Well, a small chance is better than no chance.

Unraveling the last of the rope you propel yourself forward, running desperately. Your life -quite literally- depends on it. Your captors quickly realize and start chasing after you, you race forward, sights pinned on the figure in front of you.

Stopping yourself just quickly enough, you slam into the figure, making them stumble back slightly. “Now what in the-” the accented baritone voice of the person says. Grasping onto the lapels of his jacket you stare up desperately begging,

“Please help me sir, these guys captured me. I think they're going to sell me or something!”

The man looks up for a moment, staring at the men just a few seconds away before looking back down at you, “What's in it for me doll?” he says, smirking down.

“Just please!” a short chuckle erupts from his chest, placing a hand on your waist he pushes you behind him.

“I gotcha, just stay behind me.” Your captors slow to a stop, attempting to catch their breath; one of the goons is the first to attempt speech through all the heavy breathing.

“Give her back, we found ‘er first.” He says in a whiny tone, clearly not the brightest bulb.

“Now why would I want to do that?”

“Well… uh” he struggles to find the words, dumbly looking to his superior. 

“Well what? Cat got yer’ tongue?”

The ring leader is the next to speak, lips parting in a sneer, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “Finders keepers ghoul. It's rare you see a pretty little thing like her these days… thought we'd sell ‘er. Caps are hard to come by. You understand.”

“Well, I can't deny she is quite the looker,” the ghoul says, looking to his side over at you, eyes grazing over your face before looking up, staring holes through the head of the man in front. “But in terms of the ‘finders keepers’ I'm going to have to dispute that fellas’. You see… i'm not really in the business of sharin’ and she seems to have found me,'' he laughs, hand going to his holster, “so i'm keepin’.”

Between the effort of running and the ghoul's comment your face is quite warm. The tension between him and the men rises every millisecond. Praying that the ghoul is a reliable shot seems to be your only hope as the group gets more irritated by the second. The leader goes to speak again, clearly not taking the hand-on-the-holster hint from the ghoul. 

“I don't think so-” he says, drawing his pistol. The ghoul, already prepared, fires off a shot, beating him to his own, a bullet landing in the man’s shoulder. The leader stumbles, being taken to one knee. The goons caught by surprise go to draw their own guns, before another warning shot fires off, grazing the cheek of one.

Taking the hint, they drop their guns, hands held shakily as they lower to themselves to kneel on the ground. Clearly not wanting to take any chances. The ghoul walks over to the leader, the barrel of his gun pressed into the man's chin, forcing him to look up. The ghoul grins sarcastically.

“Well I know so. Now, why don't you pick your dusty ass up and get you, and your little…” He looks back at the two other men, “fanclub, outta’ here while I take care of that fine piece of ass you so helpfully lead into my arms.” He holsters his gun again, reaching into his pocket for a moment, “Some caps for your troubles.” he says, dropping a few caps on the ground before turning around and walking back to you.

“I- thank you.” you say dumbly, looking up at the ghoul. 

“Don't thank me sweetheart,” he says, scanning your body for injuries. His eyes lock on a laceration on your arm before looking back at you. “Let's get you stitched up now,” he says with a tone you can't quite place. You lift your arm to look at the wound for a moment, must've gotten it at some point during the walk.

Looking back up, the ghoul has already walked past you, most likely expecting you to follow as he heads towards a building a few meters away. Quickly you move to follow him, eager to get away from your former captors.

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You watch awkwardly as he rummages for a needle and thread, finally finding some, he threads the needle, Sitting down on the only chair available. He looks up expectantly with a barely-there smirk.

“Well, come take your seat doll,” he says, patting his thigh. “That there won't stitch itself,” he says nodding to your arm. A heat once again rises to your face as you shuffle over, sitting down on his knee, the wound facing him as your legs are thrown across his lap. You attempt to focus on the wall ahead of you, ignoring the fact that this is the only welcome touch you've had in a while. 

Soon you have something else to focus on as the most definitely not sterile needle pierces your skin. You look over your shoulder at the man, his hat tipped back lazily as he pinches the needle through his thumb and forefinger. A whip stitch quickly binding the laceration. He ties a knot before snapping the extra thread off with a nip of his teeth.

He grasps you at the waist and under your knees, standing, while setting your feet on the ground. “I believe that's all. ‘Should be able to gather enough things here to get you on your way,” he says, walking to the door.

“Wait! Could I come with you? I don't have much, but I could help you in some way... Carry supplies, cook, something,” you say, not ready to be alone quite yet. He gives an almost genuine smile, facing you again. 

“Well I don't find myself in need of a pack mule. I'll be on my way ma'am.” he replies, tipping his hat before walking out, seeming to already have his next location in mind. He walks confidently, out of the town into the infinite desert ahead.

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After gathering a decent amount of supplies in the surrounding buildings you stand in the middle of town absolutely stumped. There is nothing for you in this abandoned town you find yourself in and it's not like you've had the best track record with setting up your own camp recently. 

Wandering around a little more you find yourself where you met your knight in dusty leather. The other men now long gone, you stoop down and collect the things they left. Lucky for you they pretty much dropped everything they had, undoubtedly wanting to get away from the ghoul as quickly as possible.

Picking through their supplies you find that they left their guns and a decent amount of ammo, as you attach the holster to your belt you notice some strange little bottles; about four of them. Tiny cylindrical vials filled with a clear yellow-green liquid. Well, chems are chems you think to yourself, stuffing them inside a first aid kit you found inside one of the buildings.

After nosing around the supplies a bit more you decide you don't want anything else. What to do now…

Well, making your own camp is out of the question for now. You could follow the ghoul, he seems to be a decent survivalist, and the safest person you've interacted with in months. You could stay just behind him, he won't even notice. Just until he passes a more substantial settlement. Or you decide on somewhere else to go.

Deciding on that as a decent course of action, you follow the path marked by his footsteps. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky at this point, it's important to start moving before dusk falls.

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You have been following the ghoul's path for about two days now, trailing behind him. Being just close enough to where you can see when he settles down for the night, taking it as a sign to wind down as well.

As day two starts to end you see him in the distance, he starts to set up his camp for the night so you do too. Two days completely filled with travel can really take a lot out of a person, you soon welcome the sleep that takes you.

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“Well, hello there little lady.” you hear a familiar voice say, spooking you awake. Your eyes open to be greeted by the face of your savior from a few days ago. He's standing over you, eyes boring into yours. “Now what do you think you're doin’. Following me around these past few days, thinkin’ I wouldn't notice.”

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just didn't know where to go… and I figured following behind you would be a safe bet. Just until we passed another settlement! That's all I swear!” You rush to speak, trying to rationalize your thinking to him.

“Is that so? Well I hate to break it to ya’ darlin’ but the next town is about a 3 day walk away,” he informs, standing back to his full height before stepping away. You groan, rubbing your face forcefully in frustration. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Sitting up, you lazily start to collect your things.

Taking your sweet time, you scoot towards where you had placed your pack for the night. Leisurely taking a sip of water and a bite of some jerky you snagged in town. Now you really had to think about what you were going to do. You doubt he would let you continue following him, and clearly he had some 6th sense for this type of thing so secretly doing it isn't in the cards.

“Get yer’ ass up! We're burnin’ daylight out here.” the ghoul yells. Confused, you whip your head around to look at him. He walks towards you. 

“What?” you say stupidly. 

“We need to get a move on,” he states, squatting down to meet your eye level. “If we move at your glacial pace we'll never get there.” he remarks sarcastically. Standing once again he goes to collect the last of his things, yelling to you again, “Now! and I ain't carryin’ any of your shit so don't even think about bitchin’ about it.” 

With a huff, you stand dusting yourself off before grabbing your pack and trailing behind the ghoul.

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The first day of travel was mostly uneventful, walking, walking, and even more… walking. Though you quickly learn that he doesn't talk much. And he walks quite fast. While you were certainly an effective and efficient walker, you were still left in the dust.

One of his large strides was equivalent to about one and a half of yours. Walking behind someone for miles is not exactly the most engaging activity, but it gave you plenty of time to think. And oh boy did your mind have some things to say.

As you walk your mind starts to wander. ‘my view of him from behind wasn't all that bad,’ you think to yourself. ‘He walks with a confidence that would make anyone quake in their boots, including me. Just possibly in a different way.’

By the end of the day you were spent. Sitting down by the fire, the sun finally setting, eating whatever scraps had been left over in your bag. Not exactly the most exciting dinner in the world, but in this day and age boring and uneventful is a blessing.

It's l quite awkward, sitting across from him. He has such an intense gaze. The exquisite hazel of his eyes is something so uncommon, especially for a ghoul. He seems to be doing well for himself, as close as one can be in the wasteland that is. But with that it makes the feeling ever stronger.

The way he bores his eyes into you makes you feel like he can hear everything you have been thinking all day.

Looking at you like you're something to eat.

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The second day seems to be turning into much of the same. Infinitely more walking ahead of you. Though there is something different in the air today, something new that you can't quite place.

As you look past him you hope you can see anything different, anything new. At this point you would celebrate for a tumbleweed. Though there is still much to think about.

You come to realize how little you truly know about your traveling partner. I mean, you met him not even a week ago and now you've committed to a good bit more time with him and you don't even know his name. He hasn't spoken much to you since your journey started, or really at all that you can remember.

What a shame. His voice is something that continues to echo through you. His deep baritone with that saccharine accent. While he doesn't talk much, it really is a treat when he does. When it comes to the short conversations he has with you, you can't help but get giddy at the pet names he calls you. 

Now that you think about it, he doesn't know your name either. Quickening your steps you catch up to walk next to him. Looking up you see him eye you suspiciously. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure you look back down. Who are you to think that he would want to speak with you? Well, what the hell, why not?

“Hey!” you say, attempting to sound casual, failing horribly. Sparing you some embarrassment, he doesn't seem to react at all, eyes directed forward. “I was just wondering, it's probably stupid, you don't have to answer obviously. But uh, you know what? Never mind. Sorry.”

Wow, really smooth. Admitting defeat you slow your pace back to your normal one, starting to fall behind him once again; that is, until a leather-clad hand finds itself on your hip. Rushing you to once again, meet his steps.

“Just spit it out babydoll, if we're gonna’ be stuck together, I suppose you can get a question or two,” he conceded. His hand pulls back to his side, a bit leisurely crossing the small of your back. Not that you were going to complain, a welcome shiver running through you.

“Well, I was going to ask your name.” That seems to have gotten his attention, his head turning so he can fully look at you now. His eyes roving over your face as if looking for a lie. 

“My name? That's what you want to know?”

“I mean… yeah? I just thought if we were traveling together I should know what to call you,” you explain, once again feeling insecure. He turns his head forward once again, an unreadable expression taking over his face. 

“Is that so?” Understanding this to be rhetorical, you stay silent, deciding instead to focus on walking.

Quite soon though, you find yourself stopping. While the sun is getting lower in the sky, normally you would have another hour or so until you would start to settle down. Confused, you turn to ask; He beats you to it.

“There's some decent huntin’ and some clean water 'round here. Stay and set up house.” Wordlessly you nod, placing your bag on the ground. You walk a few meters away, collecting some sticks for a fire as you hear his heavy footfalls go in the opposite direction.

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Just as the sun starts to set, and you finally get a decent fire going you see your partner walking towards you. Some sort of meat that he already seems to have butchered in his hand. 

“Darlin’ would you cook this up,” He says, not really waiting for an answer, handing you the game. “I have got to get off my feet.” He goes and settles down, resting his back against a large rock in the general vicinity of the fire. Rummaging through his bag he grabs out a small vial, identical to the ones you snagged days previously. He attaches it to what looks to be a repurposed Jet inhaler, taking a hit.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Quit your starin’,” he hollers. Taking the hint, you avert your gaze and spear the meat onto an extra stick.

The meat roasts somewhat unevenly but who can complain at this point? While doing the mindless task you can't help but look up at him. Still leaning up against the rock his head is back now, dusty cowboy hat tipped over his eyes. He really is quite handsome. Ghoul's don't exactly get the best rap when it comes to anything, especially looks. You decide that people would change their minds if they met him.

Looking down again towards your work you decide it looks done enough. Separating just over half of it you place it onto a handkerchief, walking it over to him, placing it on his lap. He goes to move his hat back, giving you a nod before you go back to your spot across from him, the heat of his gaze following you.

Sitting down you prepare for another silent dinner. Digging into your food, you hear him clear his throat, causing you to look up. “Cooper,” he says, “Cooper Howard.” You smile, a real genuine smile, giving him your name as well. A small grin finds its way to his face. So subtle you almost missed it. There was truly something in the air today.

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Waking up the following day you feel like shit. Clean water has been pretty sparse causing your head to pound like a drum. Sure there was some clean water near here but even the idea of standing up sounded unappealing. Deciding it’s best to get it over with sooner rather than later you sit up. 

You start to dig through your pack trying to find your canteen with no success. Confused, you look around, still no canteen. “Cooper?” you yell, not seeing him in the immediate vicinity either. 

“What is it, doll?” He yells back, coming into your field of view, strutting as always. 

“Oh thank the gods. For a second I thought you left me behind,” you sigh with relief.

“Now why would I do that?” A sarcastic tone infesting his speech. Rolling your eyes, you speak again. 

“Have you seen my canteen anywhere? I can't find it. Thought I'd refill it with the clean water you were talking about last night,” you add, standing up and dusting yourself off. Cooper responds by reaching into the pocket inside his jacket, pulling out your canteen and shaking it. The sound of fresh water splashing inside.

Unscrewing the cap he walks up to you, so close you two are almost chest to chest. “Drink up,” he says, lifting it, waiting, like he expected something. And who are you to deny his expectations? Lifting your gaze from the container to the depths of his eyes you open your mouth obediently. He rewards you with a slight smirk, tipping the opening towards your lips.

Despite the increasing tension between you, you are genuinely thirsty. You gulp down the water desperately between heaving breaths. Seeing that you had gotten enough, he screws the cap back on, wiping away a leftover drop on your lip with his thumb. 

“Well ain't you just a prize,” he remarks, so quietly you think he didn't mean for you to hear it. With an almost imperceptible smile on his face he steps away, “ You better start gettin’ a move on little lady. If we walk fast enough we can get to town by supper.” You watch for a second as he grabs his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

Shaking the leftover tension you do the same, the idea of sleeping in a real bed tonight pushing you forward.

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Unfortunately, the heat truly has been overwhelming today. Notably, Cooper has slowed down just enough to match your pace today. Maybe you're truly starting to crack that hard outer shell he keeps himself in.

After about an hour of you fanning yourself, tying your hair up, then taking it down and putting it up in a different way you give up. Deciding that you would rather just be scorched than fiddle with your clothes or hair every fifteen seconds. 

Soon after you come to this decision, Cooper silently lifts his hat off of himself, placing it on your head. The slight shade of the brim gives you some relief from the unending heat. Gratefully, you look up at him, he doesn't seem to think his action is anything of interest. His eyes still facing forward, face still pulled into a permanent scowl.

You look back down, “Thank you,” you say absentmindedly. 

“Don't mention it,” he replies, his tone flat. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for the rest of your travels. Every once and a while you would sneak an admiring glance or two. A few times you could swear you felt his gaze on you, but of course you have no proof of that.

☆          ☆          ☆

After several hours of travel you and Cooper find yourself in a rather nice little town. Nice for a town in the wasteland, that is, not that you can complain. Looking around you see several amenities, a decent looking saloon, a trading post, and a shabby motel being the ones that catch your eye.

You suspect that Cooper is more relieved than he is letting on, taking a deep breath, he allows himself a moment to take it in. “Come on now, let's get a room,” he says, stealing his hat off of you, placing it on his head once again. Both of you eager, you head to the desk of the motel. 

Not caring to speak to anyone, as you two walk in Cooper silently drops a handful of caps onto the desk, grabbing a random key (and its spare) from the wall with the other hand as he does. You give a respectful nod to the person behind the desk before swiftly following him.

After passing a few rooms, your traveling partner looks down, matching the number on the key to the one on the door. Unlocking it, you are greeted by a could-be-better room. But who has time to complain? It's a place to rest your head and keep out of the elements.

“While all this is nice and all, I need a drink,” Cooper declares, setting down his bag and grabbing some caps out of one of the pouches. 

“Ok, I think I'm going to get myself cleaned up here first, I'll meet you in a few.” making a sound of acknowledgement, Cooper leaves, tossing you the extra key, the sound of the lock clicking into place as the door closes.

Sure there wasn't anything fancy like running water here but they were kind enough to have a bottle of talc and a rag in the bathroom. Gratefully, you clean yourself up as much as you can before heading to the saloon.

☆          ☆          ☆

Walking in, you scan the room. It's packed with all kinds of people, all jabbering on with their own group, all sipping their alcohol of dubious origin, not that you can complain, you're about to do the same thing. Looking around again, closer this time. Looking for a specific ghoul. There he is.

He sat himself at a small booth, a round table in front of him. An empty glass -presumably his own- set atop. His legs are spread lazily, the brim of his hat creating a shadow over his eyes. It truly is despicable how beautiful he is.

Snapping yourself out of what is probably a desperate looking stare, you head over to the bar. You dig out enough caps from your pockets for two of whatever cheap whiskey you could get your hands on. “Two of whatever's cheapest,” you say leaning over the bartop, dropping enough caps for both, plus tip, on the counter. Nodding, the barkeep collects two glasses, pouring with a rather heavy hand, before handing them to you and snatching the caps.

You look over to where Cooper is once more; he's looking at you now, an intense indescribable air around him. You fight to not smirk at the fact that you caught him staring, you grab the drinks and head over to his table, challenging him with your continued eye contact. “Now where have you been all my life?” you hear an unfamiliar whiny voice say. Instantly your mood is ruined, with a scowl you turn towards the voice. It belongs to a plain looking man, a much too confident smirk on his face.

“As far away from you as I could manage,” you quip, rolling your eyes and making your way to your table. Hearing him get up from his chair, following in your direction you turn to face him again. “I'm here with someone don't even try,” you warn, though of course he doesn't take the message. 

“Well I don't see him ‘round here,”

“You sure you don't?” You hear that familiar accented voice say behind you while wrapping his arm around your waist. Cooper stares down the man in front of you. 

“A ghoul?” the man says, looking up towards him briefly before continuing his eye contact with you. “I can fuck you better than a goddamn ghoul I'll promise you that. You make that switch I'll show you a good time,” the man claims, stalking towards you with a dangerous leer on his face.

“Oh, I guarantee you can't,” Cooper gloats, flashing the gun at his side. Without a second thought he grasps your jaw firmly, turning your head to face him and he locks his lips with yours. Taken aback, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, but he quickly deepens the kiss. He runs his tongue on the seam of your lips. You quickly obey, opening your mouth to the welcome intrusion. With how intense the kiss became you couldn't help but let out a whimper, which he rewards with a firm squeeze of your waist.

You separate after what seems like an eternity, Cooper looking at the man in front of you. “Betcha’ believe it now don't ya'?” he smirks, leading you back to the booth. He grabs both of your drinks, setting them down on the table before sitting down. Feeling some confidence after what just transpired, you sit down on his lap, one of his legs settled between yours. Teasing a bit, you shift your hips against his a few times as if settling in.

“You keep doin’ that you're gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns, grabbing and handing you your drink before shooting back his own. With a smile you lean back, resting against him. 

“I'm ok with trouble,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. Making a sound of contentment, Cooper runs his hand up your thigh, squeezing as his hand trails close to where you truly need him. You let out an unintentional whine at this, attempting to cover it up with a hefty gulp of your drink.

“Are you know? Well trouble is what I got darlin’,” he claims, bouncing his leg that you are perched on. His thigh rubbing deliciously on you. “Just say the word.” Finding all the sensations to be far too much you give in to his teasing. Rocking your hips back on him again you bring your lips to his neck, kissing up slowly, ending on his jaw. 

“Please.”

Releasing a satisfied groan he gives you a relatively chaste kiss compared to earlier, he adjusts you and sets your feet on the ground, pulling you and him up to stand. “Lead the way pretty girl,” he purrs, delivering a swift smack to your ass as you scramble to get to your room.

☆          ☆          ☆

As soon as the door is closed and locked behind you two, you are forced against a wall. Clearly attempting to keep some sort of control over himself Cooper takes a deep breath. “Darlin’ I'm serious, you ain't gettin’ rid of me after this. You sure you want this? just say so and I’ll leave.” The pathetically desperate look in his eyes makes you even more eager to give him your answer 

“Please Coop, I need you.”

Not needing any further confirmation, he once again locks his lips with yours. Opening your mouth right away, the kiss deepens quickly, both of you desperate to get a taste of each other. Cooper rips off his leather gloves, needing to feel you on him directly. That still not being enough, he paws at your top roughly, pushing it up. Parting for a moment he pulls it over your head, unclasping and removing your bra just after.

“Well ain't you the prettiest little thing,” he breathes, running his hands up your body to cup your tits. Stooping down, he sucks a dark bruise into the side of one, looking satisfied with himself as he does so. 

“Coop,” you whine, starving for more. He falls completely to his knees now, delicately taking off your boots, eye contact steady. 

He next moves to unbutton your jeans. He moves frustratingly slow, clearly enjoying your huffs of annoyance. Pulling off your pants and underwear in one, he grabs your hips harshly, pushing them into the wall. Without delay, he places your thighs over his shoulders, diving into your core like it's his last meal. He runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth harshly before releasing. Desperate for more, he plunges his tongue inside you once again.

The sudden intrusion forces a deep groan out of you. In need of a perch, you wrap your hand harshly around the back of his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. “You are just about the sweetest thing I've ever tasted,” he coos, placing a messy kiss on your inner thigh. 

“Cooper, please. I need you,” you beg, desiring everything he can give you.

“Well I can't say no to that, can I?” he jokes, wrapping your legs around him as he stands. Holding you by your waist he makes his way to the bed. He swiftly tosses you atop, you bounce slightly, watching as he stalks towards you with an indescribable hunger. The heat of his stare intense, you desperately clench around nothing. 

Kneeling on the bed now, Cooper runs his fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them. Slowly, he works a single finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out. “Fuck- Coop,” you moan, blinded by pleasure. He works another finger in, continuing the same pace, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot every time. Working you open, preparing you for what was next.

“Good girl, so desperate for me, just a bitch in heat.” Lacking the proper brain function to respond, you whimper at his comment. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Oh you like that don't you? You like being my needy little thing. The little slut I get to use.” his pace increases, fingers rubbing immaculately inside of you. The low buzz at the bottom of your stomach beginning to bloom, your hips unconsciously bucking down to meet his thrusts. 

“Please, please please,” you beg, not quite knowing what you're begging for.

“I gotcha’ doll. Let go,” he assures, moving his thumb to rub quick circles on your clit. As if commanded, you let go right away. The pressure inside of you bursting with a moan, hips bucking wildly out of your control. Clenching desperately around his fingers. “That's it… that's my girl.” Your body comes down after a few seconds more, thighs twitching with the residual energy. Cooper delicately removes his fingers from you, a small whimper of overstimulation coming from you.

Placing them in his mouth, he laps up any of you he can get. “Sweet as honey, you are,” he teases. Letting out a breathy laugh at his comment, you fist your hand on his collar, pulling him in. The kiss is passionate, tasting yourself on him only spurs you on further. Your other hand trails down his body, finding the tent in his pants you give a teasing rub. His hips stutter forward briefly, making you smile into the kiss.

Your nimble fingers undo the button on his pants, the zipper following. Breaking the kiss you look up at him, silently asking for permission. Giving you a short nod, Cooper further pushes himself into you, bordering on grinding at this point. With a grin you take him out of his pants. You give a few experimental tugs, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His hips stutter again, “You better quit your teasin’ ‘fore I make you.” As enticing as that sounds, you listen. You rub him against you a few times before lining him up with your entrance.

Slowly, he starts to push in, your heat inviting him in. “F-fuck,” he whimpers, pausing for a moment. “I'm sorry baby, you just feel so good.” Pushing in farther, he bottoms out. He grinds into you, desperate to get as deep as he can. 

“Please, Coop, please move,” you whimper out. 

“You are so pretty when you beg. You will be the death of me darlin’,” he says, pulling out about halfway before slamming back in. He quickly sets a brutal pace, hips slamming into you quickly and harshly. The low buzz in your stomach quickly returns, every ridge of him rubbing deliciously inside of you. It's not long before you become a puddle of whines and moans, the low buzz bursting once more, stars exploding behind your vision.

His pace does not falter, his hips still moving at the same brutal pace. In fact, he finds this the perfect opportunity to start rubbing quick circles on your clit. Anything he can do to get you to go, needy to see it again.

“Come on now, you can do it one more time for me can't you?” not believing it can happen so soon again, you shake your head, pathetic whines falling from your lips. “Yes you can, come on. I'll follow right behind. One more for me, pretty girl,” he assures, his tone starting to sound as whiny as yours. The next one comes up faster than the others, beginning already so close to the precipice.

“Fuck, Coop im going to-”

“I know sweetheart, let go, come for me.” Your body takes that command wholeheartedly, you lock your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper as you fall over your precipice, his pace truly faltering, thrusts now short and sloppy. “Fuck, darlin’ im gonna’,” he attempts to say. 

“I know,” you say between whimpers of his name. Before long he joins you in bliss, filling you to the brim.

He rests his head on your shoulder briefly, pulling out after a moment and righting himself in his clothes. Rolling over onto the bed moments after. Cooper tiredly pulls you against him, not a care in the world at the moment. To be honest you didn't either. The Rad-Away would just have to wait.

[miniwheat77]

Down. (141 x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, double penetration, sex pollen, unprotected sex, gang bang (100% consensual.) THIS IS A GROUP SEX FIC, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNI. !Repost!

Not edited* you can find the ask for this here.

This was easily the most important interview of your life.

Everything you’ve studied for, all of the hard work you’ve put in. Everything. It’s all getting put on the line today.

You sat on the uncomfortable leather couch in the suspiciously nice waiting room, waiting for your name to be called. A man sitting next to you startles you a little and he chuckles. “Sorry, didn’t mean t’ scare ya.” He laughs. You notice his accent before his large build and Mohawk. It’s a lot of man to suddenly throw at a woman.

“It’s alright.” You smile. “You uh.. waiting for an interview or something?” He asks, noticing your pretty dress and heels. “Yeah.. that obvious?” You giggle. “Just a little. I bet a fine lass like you will do great.” He winks. Your cheeks turn red and you roll your eyes. “Thank you. What are you here for?” You ask. “Just waiting for a friend to get done in the lab.” He smiles. He’s got a pretty smile, he’s a really attractive man. You nod your head. “So.. what are you interviewing for?” He asks. “Oh… uh.” You readjust yourself. “It’s a family planning therapist.” You nod. He looks confused. “What’s that mean?”

You smile. “Well.. if I were to get the job, I would speak with new patients. Setting up a plan, the best approach for them. Which tests will work for them better. Stuff like that.” You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Gotcha. That sounds pretty cool really.” He smiles. “Yeah. What this place does is pretty cool.”

He purses his lips, “yeah. Pretty cool.” He mumbles. Just as he’s about to speak up again, you’re getting called up to the front desk. “Mrs. Phillips is ready for you now.” The receptionist smiles, passing you all of your paperwork. You thank her, making your way up to the elevator. You pressed the top floor, 16.

16 floors of all different types of practices, all in one. It was crazy really. You don’t know what chance you stood for this job, but one can pray.

You heard the elevator ding and it brought you out of your thoughts, stepping outside into the dark carpeted floor. You made your way down the hallway, up to the office you’d be interviewing in. You knocked at the door, after hearing a welcoming ‘come in’ you stepped inside.

What you didn’t know, is that while you were inside of that interview room, all hell was going to break loose.

And it all was going to start by one word from the handsome man you’d met in the lobby.

“Ready.” Soap mumbles into the tiny microphone on him. He watches you as you make your way into the elevator, biting his lip at the way you looked in your black dress. “She’s headed up now, give it 5 and it’s a go.” Soap says as he presses the button for the next elevator. The very moment that door was closed behind your form, they were springing into action. Laswell had written these plans perfectly for them. Showed them exactly where the problem was, and how to take care of it.

They picked the lock to the room they needed to be on, moving quietly, drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Once the room was open, they were shocked as they took it all in. Thousands of gallons of liquid all filled one room. Large vats, syringes, spray bottles, everything. They split into pairs, Ghost and Soap started destroying the liquid, contaminating parts, breaking open the large vats. Gaz and Captain Price moved to destroy any paperwork they could find, removing the ability to ever create this again. By the time they were finished, they were rushing out. Moving quickly to the elevator. The four men piled in, and as Soap pressed the lobby button, you stepped inside. “Oh.. sorry. I can catch the next one.” You smile, going to step out, but Gaz reaches out to take your hand. “Nonsense, there’s enough for us all.” He smiles. Anything to look natural.

They watched the floors tick by.

15…

14…

13…

12…

11…

10…

9…

Just as you’re about to reach the eight floor, a loud alarm began going off and you looked around in a panic. “Shit.” Captain Price mumbles. A red light started flashing in the elevator and the floor feels like it slips out from under your feet as the elevator plummets a few more floors. A scream leaves your lips and Soap reaches out to you, holding you close to him. When the elevator hangs up, you all freeze, looking around. “Everyone okay?”

You nod your head. Worried. You hear creaking, bracing yourselves for another plummet. You clutch onto Soap as the elevator collapses once more, a few more floors dinging passed. You have your eyes clenched tight. “Fuck- fucking hell. We’re about to be in the parking garage.” Gaz breathes. “We’ve got to make it fall again.” He breathes. The five of you work to make it fall again, jumping at the same time, but it’s stuck. You can’t even pry the doors open. “Fuck..”

“Let’s just press the emergency button.” You shrug.

“No!” They all yell in unison, Soap grasping your hand.

“What? Why?”

They all sigh.

You’re close enough to the parking garage that you hear all kinds of cars speeding off. Most likely the team that created this mess, ditching it.

“What the hell is going on?” You ask. They all exchange glances with each other before Captain Price sighs. He reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Captain John Price. This is my task force. We’re here on a mission.” He sighs. “Task force? A mission? What is even here that would have to be.. what?” You ask. “We’ve been tracking this for a few years now.” He digs a piece of paper out of his pocket. It’s got information on the mysterious pink liquid. Along with a photo of it. “We tracked it back to a lab in Japan that were experimenting on people, the death toll was up to a few hundred before we caught sight of them. We busted up their operation but one of them got away, and for a while now they’ve been hiding here, under the false impression that they’re here to help people.” You look confused. “Sex drug?”

“This is a chemically modified sex drug. That’s what they administer here. It helps, of course. It aids in pregnancy, helps with sex drive. But… when taken without any stimulation. The patient dies. The death toll from this building alone is in the hundreds already,” he explains. Your lips are parted, you’re shocked. “So.. what did you guys do?” You ask. Captain Price smiles. “We destroyed whatever of the drug they had left, and destroyed all of the paperwork.” You nod your head. You thought that these people were helping. You thought that they were just miracle workers. But they were evil.

“Damn. I really wish you would’ve told me that before I went in there and rocked that stupid interview.” You roll your eyes.

Something dripping onto Ghosts shoulder has you all stopping to look at him. He looks up, seeing that there is something pooling up above him. “What is that?” There’s a small crack.

Just as quickly as it drips onto Ghost, it absorbs into his skin. “What the hell?” He asks. “Isn’t this the elevator closest to the lab?” You ask. “Where.. we broke open all of those fucking vats of the drug.” Gaz laughs. “Fuck.” He groans. “We have to get the fuck out of here.” You mumble. You turn to try to pry open the door again. Gasping when something spills down your back. You spin around, seeing that the drug has started spilling through any cracks. All over everyone in the elevator. It absorbs just as soon as it touches you, but it’s cold at first. It makes you feel fuzzy. Sending chills up your spine. “It’s so cold.” You breathe. The group is going quiet as you stand there, arms wrapped around yourself. Ghost is the first to hide his growing erection with his hands.

You’ve got a black dress on, your hair loose and falling around your shoulders, skin exposed.

You take in a deep breath, feeling wetness pool between your legs. “Let’s try jumping again.” Gaz nods. Everyone agrees. “On the count of three.” He nods.

When he reaches three, each one of you jump. But the Elevator doesn’t even creak. It’s stuck.

Soap moves forward, sliding passed Gaz and Captain Price as he looks at you. He steps closer to you, making you back up into the metal wall behind you. “Soap? What are you doing?” Gaz asks. “Johnny?” Ghost asks. He leans down into you, making you breathe out, he inhales the scent of you, head low. His lips are only a few centimeters from your neck and you’re nervous as he pins you up to the wall. “We don’t have to die.” He sighs. “We’ve got this pretty thing right here.” He smiles. You look up at him. Eyes burning into him. “Isn’t that right darling?” He breathes. Running his hand up your bare thigh. He sends chills up your spine, a gasp leaving your lips as he moves it higher. “It’s the drug talking. We have to keep trying.” Gaz grits his teeth.

You take in a deep breath. “No..” you mumble. Peeking at Gaz. “He’s right.” You breathe, feeling Soap’s fingertips against your panties. “As long as I’m here you’re all safe.” You sigh, pushing your hips into Soap’s hand. “What, you think you’ll be able to handle all four of us?” He snorts. You look at him, glancing up to where there were more droplets of the drug pooling at the top. You reach your hand up, running your fingertip over it. It drips into your hand and down your arm before absorbing into your skin. “Mhm..” you breathe.

The seconds tick by. The more time that passes the less logical they’re all thinking. And before you know it, they’re pouncing on you like a pack of wild wolves.

Gaz is sucking at one side of your neck, Soap is on the other. Kissing and sucking at your skin. You can feel hands all over you, and you can barely keep it together. You feel amazing.

You can feel fingertips dancing at your opening. “What do I call you?” You breath, looking around at each of them.

“Kyle.” Gaz pants.

“Johnny.” Soap hikes your leg up onto his hip.

“Simon.” Ghost breathes, tugging his mask off and tucking it into his pocket.

“John.” Captain Price nods.

You take in a deep breath, nodding your head. You look up at the ceiling as you’re being devoured. Their lips are on you, leaving traces that burn. John moves himself between Kyle and Johnny, dropping to his knees and pushing your dress up over your hips. He kisses your clit through your panties and you glance down, moaning at the sight of him. You snake a hand between you and Kyle, grasping a handful of Johns hair, whining as you feel his wet tongue against you through your panties. He tugs your panties down your plushy thighs, admiring how soft you feel. Once he has them off, shoved into his pocket for another day, his lips are on your clit. Lapping up the expanse of sensitive flesh, a gasp leaving your lips and you moan out, Johnny moving to kiss you to keep you quiet, not that it mattered.

He just wants to feel your lips on his.

Kyle pumps his cock lazily as he works at your neck. He’s leaving as many marks as he possibly can. Sucking and biting. Simon watches intensely. Fighting the urge to touch himself as he admires the view.

“Cmon, get on the ground darling.” John mumbles, pulling away from you. They pull you down until you’re laying on your back, and that’s when they surround you.

John is between your legs. Simon and Gaz are to your right and left, and Johnny is looking down at you from right directly above you. “Let’s see what this pretty mouth can do hm?” He breathes, leaning down. He bumps his nose over yours kissing your lips again. “Such a pretty fucking thing, I knew I wanted to fuck you in the waiting room but didn’t think it’d actually happen.” He chuckles. He exposes his cock to you, and you glance at Simon and Kyle, reaching your hands out to them. Simon has to undo his belt, Kyle is already completely exposed, desperate to be touched by you. John pushes your legs up and you take a second to glance at him, biting your lip. Your body is hot, it feels like at any moment you’re going to burst into flames. You’ve never been so turned on in your life. He rubs his bare cock over the folds of your pussy, your whines egg him on. Johnny chuckles at your desperation, Simon and Kyle tap your hips to get your dress completely off. Exposing you to them entirely.

“Look at that..” Johnny chuckles, eyeing his Captain as he teases your pussy. He’s rubbing his cock back and fourth over your clit. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad…” you mewl. “Please, please fuck me.” You pant. John smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you, watching it disappear inside of you, a gasp leaving your lips. You’ve got Simon and Kyle in both of your hands, pumping their lengths quickly. John fucks into you, hard and fast. He needs the release. You look up at Johnny, he’s pumping his cock, smirking down at you. “You ready for me?” He smiles. “Yes.” You whine. He moves closer, the tip of his cock brushes against your lips. The tip is blushing red and leaking precum. You look up at him one last time before tilting your head back and taking him into your mouth.

He sighs at the feeling of your lips on him, not being able to help himself as he rocks his hips into you. He gives you a couple minutes to adjust, letting you breathe. “Hold your breath. M’gonna fuck your throat.”

You do as he says, taking in a big breath of air, he pushes his cock down into you, watching your throat bulge out at the size of him. He grasps handfuls of your hair, fucking your throat hard and fast. He growls when you clutch onto him. You need to breathe. He stops for a second, sliding himself completely out of your mouth as you gasp for air. “Just about made me cum from that little bit. Fucking good girl.” He breathes. “M’gonna cum down this pretty throat, can you take it?” He smirks. You nod your head. “Good, hold your breath again.”

You brace yourself again, opening your mouth to take him down, sucking down a harsh breath, feeling him tug your hair and hold you down to fuck your throat. Your throat is getting sore but you want him to cum.

“Fuck- fuck.” He breathes. “Just.. just a second more. Yes.. oh fuck yes!” He gasps, hips stuttering as he cums deep down your throat, feeling you swallow around him. He growls at the feeling, letting his head fall back. He slides out of your mouth with a gasp, hearing you suck in harsh breath, coughing slightly. Maybe he was a little too rough. “Fucking hell.. your throat is magical.” He mumbles. A little embarrassed by how fast he’s just cum. He moves back, avoiding the cracks that the invasive drug seeps through. Sitting toward the corner where the door is. He takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the metal wall. His skin is hot, on fire. He needs to calm down. His eyes stay glued to you. To where you’re being used.

Your eyes are full of tears as you raise yourself up for a second, seeing John thrusting into your pussy. You swallow hard, eyes rolling back at his brutal pace. Your eyes are heavy and watery, throat raw from Johnny’s brutal pace. “Fuck-“ John groans. “M’gonna cum already.” He gasps. Sliding out of you and covering your stomach in his cum. Hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness he’s left behind. He takes a second, panting hard. Before standing up to adjust his pants. Groaning at the sensitivity he feels when he tucks himself back into his cargo pants.

Ghost is quick to take his place, moving himself between your legs.

He scoots closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. Hearing you gasp as he slides into you. He stands up onto his feet, backing up into the elevator wall. “You think you can take two of us?” He smiles. You look behind you, seeing Kyle pumping his cock. You nod your head. “Yes.” You breathe. “Good girl.” He breathes. You turn back to him, looking him in the eyes, squirming against him. You’re desperate to cum, feeling so full but receiving no friction from his thick cock that sits deep inside of you. You feel Kyle’s hands on your ass, spitting on his fingertips to prep you for him. Using his fingers to stretch open your holes.

You gasp slightly, burying your head into the crook of Simon’s neck, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist. Kyle lines himself up with you, pressing his tip against your ass, sinking into you slowly. Simon feels you tense up, keeping a tight grip on you for comfort. “Halfway there.” Kyle breathes. “Just a little more.”

“S’alright. Doing so good.” Simon mumbles, lifting you off of him and letting you sink back down onto his cock, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “So fucking tight-“ Kyle gasps. His voice is desperate. Kyle grasps the underside of your thighs, helping hold you steady as they both start slow, rocking their hips into you, a cry leaving your lips. “Oh my god-“ you whine. “It’s so much.” You clench your eyes closed. “Is it too much? Do you want us to stop?” Kyle asks. You shake your head. “No- I want to cum.” You breathe. Hearing them both chuckle at your response.

They start to speed up their pace, thrusting into you. Keeping up a rhythm. Filling you up at once, leaving you empty. You’ve got a death grip on Simon, crying into his shoulder as they use you. Filling you up so perfectly. Simon hits that perfect spot and you pull away from him, eyes widening. “What?” He asks quietly.

He hits it again and tears start to spill from your eyes. “So good, whatever you keep touching feels so good” you sob. Hearing him chuckle. He moves you up on him slightly, getting the perfect angle to thrust up into your spongy spot, feeling your thighs shake as you cry out. You won’t last long like this.

But neither will they.

Your whole body shivers at their assault on you, the buzzing you feel in your head, it’s overwhelming.

The thought of being used by four men you barely know is breathtaking, so foreign to you.

Your eyes roll back, squirming. “I- I’m gonna-“ you can’t even finish your sentence as you soak Simon completely, body jerking hard as you reach your orgasm, the both of them working into you still, hearing you cry because of the overstimulation. “Just a little more..” Kyle gasps.

You reach behind yourself, entwining your fingers with his as they sit on your thigh. Holding onto him tightly as he works his hips into yours. “I’m gonna cum- ah!” He cries out, hips stuttering as he slides out of you. Hissing as he cums. “F-fuck. Holy shit.” He breathes. He backs away from you, just as Simon braces himself to fuck you hard. “Almost there. Got me so close sweetheart.” He breathes. You raise yourself up on him, kissing him. You can feel his black face paint smearing slightly on your nose and cheeks, but cease to care as he pounds himself up into you. Crying into your mouth when he reaches his high. Forgetting entirely to pull out of you. Filling you to the hilt with his potent cum. Your eyes are wide when you pull away from him. You keep quiet, hissing slightly when he sets you down, knees buckling under you. You catch yourself, sitting on the ground of the elevator. You’re breathing hard, eyes are on you.

“Here.” Soap passes you an undershirt that he’d had on. “Thank you.” You blush hard. Cleaning yourself up.

“Got to Laswell. She’s sending out reinforcements. Don’t know how long it’ll be.” John sighs.

Ghost gasps, feeling something cold run down his neck, looking up. More of the drug.

He sighs.

“That’s fine. Looks like we’re not done just yet.” He laughs.

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt7

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

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

ch. summary: San opens up, Wooyoung cooks, and time passes.

wc: 5.7k

ch. warnings: no full-blown sex scene but there is smuttish content, dom San, sub Wooyoung, sub reader, strip poker, dry humping, cumming in pants, thigh-riding, overstimulation, titty fuck, light cumplay, vaginal fingering, blindfolds, gettin’ giggly during (an attempt at) sex

San background story: UNLOCKED. Comes with a pinch of angst over a strained past relationship.

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

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

“Yes, Dad, I’ll tell Wooyoung. No I won’t forget, don’t worry about it. Say hi to Mom for me, okay?”

San ends the call, an amused yet weary smile on his face.

“…Did your dad call you just to ask you to ask Wooyoung to call him?”

You stifle a laugh at what you just witnessed, putting a container of blueberries in the shopping cart. The grocery store hums with the sound of background music and other customers around you, not too crowded but still busy enough for a random weekday afternoon.

It’s a sweltering day, afflicted by an early burst of summer heat, and so San has opted for a basic white sleeveless shirt with jeans while you and him go through the shopping list that Wooyoung compiled. It is a true testament to your steady exposure to San’s physique that you aren’t constantly distracted by his bare arms — just a perfectly reasonable amount. (So… still a lot.)

“Yeah, he did…” San sighs, shaking his head as he puts his phone away. He picks up a watermelon and taps it to check for ripeness, a pout still lingering on his lips. “Dad has Wooyoung’s number, I don’t get it at all.”

“Wait, really? That’s… actually kinda cute.”

San stares at you, watermelon still in his hands. “‘Cute’?”

“Yeah! It’s like an excuse for him to also call you, right?” you shrug, picking out some nice-looking peaches.

“Why doesn’t he just call me if he wants to call me,” San sulks, but there is the tiniest hint of smile on his lips. “I swear, he can be such a weirdo.”

“Hm. What’s that thing they say about apples and trees?” you ask nonchalantly.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!”

“San, you are a bit of a weirdo.”

“Funny,” he corrects you firmly. “I am funny.”

“Don’t get me wrong, weird is good. I like weird! But your dad did call right when you were trying to convince me that you’re secretly immortal.”

“I’m just saying there’s no proof that I’m not! Have I ever died? No!” San says, like he has just outplayed you with the most brilliant ‘gotcha’ in human history.

“Alright, Mr. Immortal,” you grin at him, pushing the cart further along, “then why are you such a scaredy cat anyway? I’ve seen you get jump-scared by Byeol more times than I can count. You have nothing to fear, right?”

“Hey, that cat is a ninja,” San counters, comically serious. “She can get the drop on anyone. There is no shame in getting scared by Byeol.”

Good-natured arguments aside, you and San are a well-oiled machine in the store. You do your groceries together on the regular; it started off one time when you impulsively texted San whether he needed anything, since you figured he’d be tired from working all day after a late night with you and Wooyoung.

But instead of sending a list, San decided to just come with you. Ever since then, it’s grown into a habit for either of you to text a little 🛒❓ before you go out to the store. Sometimes you pick stuff up for San, sometimes he picks stuff up for you, but more often it turns into a group effort.

Just like today; ticking off the shopping list that Wooyoung charged you with. He’s cooking tonight, and you’re excited to finally taste for yourself whether Wooyoung’s promised ‘perk’ of friendship lives up to expectations.

San certainly believes it will, hyping up Wooyoung’s skills as you make your way through the grocery store. You listen to him with a fond smile, slightly worried that Wooyoung might not be able to live up to the sky-high expectations, but also endeared by San’s open adoration of his boyfriend.

Since it’s a hot day, you and San also pick up two ice cream sandwiches, and walk home together.

You squint at San, who lugs around both the watermelon and a heavy bag of groceries. “San, this is ridiculous. I should carry something too.”

San grins. “Nah, you already have your hands full! With snacks!” He eyes his sandwich, then blatantly opens his mouth at you.

“Yeah, and if I took the watermelon, it’d free you up to hold your own,” you point out, but you raise up the frozen snack to his lips so he can take a bite anyway.

He shakes his head with a full mouth, barely taking time to swallow before he makes his protests known. “That makes no sense to me. Besides, it evens up this way,” he says, lifting his hand with the grocery bag up to his shoulder like it’s a dumbbell, then slowly lowering it back down.

“…Weirdo.” You affectionately roll your eyes at him and feed him another bite.

The ice cream sandwiches are gone by the time you reach your apartment building, where you take the elevator up to the top floor. Hands free, you open the door to San’s home and join him inside.

“Aish, Byeol no!” San poutingly scolds his cat when you step into his living room, where Byeol is sitting on the coffee table like it’s her throne. She turns her head at him, lets out a little ‘mrrp’, and refuses to move an inch — and San does nothing to actually remove her from the table, just leaving her be. (What a softie, you think warmly.)

“Wooyoung will be here soon, right?” you ask while you unpack groceries together in the kitchenette; you take them out of the bag, San puts them away or on the counter for later cooking. He also puts some sweet rice in a bowl to soak, as requested by Wooyoung.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be more than—” San starts, but he is interrupted when his phone buzzes insistently yet again. He looks at the name on the screen, and grimaces at you. “Shit, sorry, mind if I take this?”

“Aren’t you popular today,” you tease him. “Go for it.”

San shoots you a look of apologetic gratitude, and answers the call. “Yunho, hey man! Listen, can I call you tomorrow? I got someone over right now. No, not Wooyoung, it’s my neighbour. Y-yes, that neighbour. From next door.”

You had walked over to the coffee table to lure Byeol off the surface, careful so she doesn’t knock San’s reading glasses onto the floor. But when San mentions you, you look up just in time to see how his ears have gone slightly red, and he grimaces at the eye-contact.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow, Yun-ah!”

You raise an eyebrow at him from your place on the couch, with the fierce and terrifying ninja cat purring loudly in your arms. “So… I am that neighbour, huh?” you joke.

Embarrassment now fully burns across San’s face. “I swear we don’t go around gloating about you,” he rushes to explain, flustered. “Yunho just— I asked him for help on how to approach you, before you walked in on— He, uh, he has some experience—”

“It’s okay, San,” you assure him, taking mercy. “I trust you and Wooyoung aren’t the shag and brag types. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t told anyone about you guys either.” Hongjoong probably also has San mentally catalogued as ‘that neighbour’ in his head. That being said, you are curious about this Yunho and his ‘experience’ now.

“So, uh, Yunho is a friend? Very accomplished in picking up his neighbours for threesomes?” you ask, scritching Byeol behind her ears while she slowly falls asleep.

San laughs lightly, your question smoothing away his earlier embarrassment. “No, no, it’s not exactly like that. I met him back at my first BDSM party; Yunho took me under his wing when he found out how little experience I had. The parties ended up not really being my thing, I prefer to keep it more private, but we stayed in touch. We tag-teamed a few times — usually at his initiative, so when me and Wooyoung got… interested in you, I figured he was my best bet for some advice.”

“Oh? What was the advice?”

San rolls his eyes. “To make sure we asked you somewhere that you could run away from. Fast. In case we creeped you out. Very helpful.”

“Hey now, don’t knock him for that!” you laugh. “One should always give a person access to a solid escape route when soliciting them for sexual favours.”

“It’s not like I planned to corner you in the elevator!”

San strolls over to the couch to flop down next to you, where he runs a gentle hand over Byeol’s grey fur. A hint of a smile tugs at San’s lips when she bumps her head into his hand, and his face is relaxed. It reminds you a little of Wooyoung’s quiet photographs of him, serene and soft.

Curiosity nags at you. You’ve always been interested in San’s history with kink; you just never found the right moment to ask more about it.

“Stop me if this is too personal to ask,” you say, “but how did you end up at a play party? Most of the kinky people I know stick to buying some gear online, do a bit of research on their own.”

“Oh? Huh, good question.”

San chuckles, completely unbothered by your curiosity. It’s not surprising; ever since stepping into this arrangement, San has always been very free-spoken about anything related to sex. He does ponder the question for a moment, thinking it over.

“The kink was only part of it, really. A big part, sure, but the whole emphasis on negotiation and everything really spoke to me too,” he slowly explains. “I looked online into local communities, found some groups, and decided to just take the plunge. I guess I just wanted to be around people who knew what they were doing, you know? I… I really struggled with confidence at the time, thought it’d be nice to see experience in action.”

You blink in surprise at that last part. “Wait, you struggled with confidence?”

Considering how shy San used to be around you, perhaps you shouldn’t be too shocked; but inside the bedroom, you have never known him as anything but a beacon of self-assurance. He takes care of you and Wooyoung with a rough or gentle hand, always certain in his assessment of which the situation calls for. No, you don’t exactly associate San with a lack of confidence.

San is not bothered by you asking this question either, or at least you’re pretty sure, but his brow does furrow lightly, and his fingers gently curl in Byeol’s fur.

“Yeah, I did,” he says with a wry smile. He hesitates, but then continues on. “My old boyfriend, he… Communication wasn’t our strongest point, I guess. It was always on me to take initiative, to figure out what he liked and I just— At some point I couldn’t tell anymore if he was even enjoying himself, or just… going along with it.”

You lightly lean against San, putting a hand on his knee. Not wanting to interrupt, but still wanting to let him know you’re here. Casual acts of affection don’t come the easiest to you, but San looks like he needs one right now. For him, you will try.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles at you in silent thanks. “It’s not that I mind taking the lead or anything,” San says awkwardly, like there is a need to explain himself, “or explore new things together if someone is still figuring out their preferences, but I need something, right? I need to know if it feels good — or if it doesn’t.

“Especially since, well, since I’m into some rougher things,” he says, abashed. “I already had a hard time not feeling guilty about those interests and he… didn’t exactly help. I kept worrying I’d push something bad onto him, that the things I wanted to try were wrong.”

A sympathetic pang of pain rings through your ribcage, and you gently squeeze San’s knee. “There is nothing wrong about the things you want. I’m sorry he made you feel that way. You didn’t deserve that.”

San’s smile deepens at your assurance, but he shakes his head. “Honestly, in hindsight I think he had his own issues to sort out. I hope he has now. We just… weren’t good for each other.”

“San,” you say firmly, exasperation and fondness battling it out in your voice, “sometimes you seriously are way too much of a nice guy.”

He shrugs, grinning at you. “That’s fine by me.”

“Of course you’d say that! It’s okay to be a little resentful at someone who made you fumble around in the dark like that.”

Something complicated shines behind San’s eyes. Like he can’t quite share your feelings, but he still appreciates that you feel them on his behalf. “It’s okay, I’m doing a lot better now,” he assures you, his face brightening again. “Besides, better to look at where it brought me, right?”

“Oh sure, if you insist on being all emotionally mature about it,” you say, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes as you nudge an elbow in his side. “But yeah, I can see how that’d draw you to BDSM, with kink checklists and all that stuff. Must’ve been freeing to have people just flat-out tell you ‘yes, I would like you to tie me up and spank me until I cry, actually’.”

There’s a little pop of warmth in your chest when San laughs. “Exactly! I mean, not that being into kink automatically makes anyone perfect at this stuff, but it still helped me out a lot.” He considers what you said a moment longer, and his lips curve a little sharper as he grins at you. “Soooo… is that a request? The spanking thing? I did take it easy on you last time.”

“You took it easy— San—!” you splutter, giving him another nudge with your elbow. Byeol mrrps in protest at how you shift underneath her. “Fuck, you really got better at that whole confidence thing, huh?”

But you look at him, at his gleaming dark eyes, and as you think back on some of your past interactions with San, their context changes ever so slightly.

Like the way San always softens when he’s praised after an intense scene; or how he had thanked you for being so open with him during your first kink negotiation and after you’d used ‘yellow’ on him. You had simply taken his mindfulness towards your safety and consent as the green flags that anyone should like to see in their sexual partner — but now you can see it goes a little deeper than that.

It was always a given to you, that San would make you feel good and cared for. But San has not always seen it the same way.

San’s attention has shifted back to Byeol, and he scratches the purring cat under the chin while she slowly blinks up to him; looking like the very picture of contentment in San’s trusted care.

“Thank you, for telling me all this,” you say, squeezing San’s knee again.

He grins. “Thanks for being cool about it.”

“Of course I’m cool about it,” you tell him, a little confused that it even needs to be said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Eh,” he says, trying to shrug it off. “It’s not that I thought you wouldn’t be. It’s just, for some people it kinda ruins the fantasy, to hear that their dom has a history of insecurity issues.”

“You’re not a fantasy, you’re San,” you blurt out, stubborn and earnest. “And you are my friend, first.”

San blinks in surprise at your words. (You’re a little surprised yourself.)

“Well,” he says in the abashed silence that follows, while slowly breaking into a soft smile, “thank you. I’m glad to hear that, really.”

You grin back at San, trying not to be overwhelmed by the simple, honest gratitude that glitters in his eyes. “Good. A-anyway,” you continue awkwardly, “you and Wooyoung sure do make a lot of sense, considering. He is not shy about what he likes. Is that how you guys met too?”

San’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh at your ungracious pivot. “Not really, but kinda yeah?” he says, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about the question. “I did meet Wooyoung through Yunho, but they’re mostly gamer buddies. Yunho pretty much set us up; must’ve also realised we’d be… compatible. He’s observant like that,” San chuckles.

“And it’s true, that is what drew me to Wooyoung at first. I liked how outspoken he is about what he wants — and he liked that I like that about him. And then… well, we found a whole lot more to like about each other,” San grins at you, just a little cheeky.

Before you can respond, you hear the front door to the apartment open as the man in question lets himself inside.

“Hey, we were just talking about you!” San calls to Wooyoung when the latter steps into the living room.

“Oh? About how great I am?” Wooyoung says, walking up to the couch to give you a half-hug from behind and kiss San on the cheek. He has come straight from work, still carrying a pleasant waft of the florist shop’s scent around him.

You’re still a little surprised every time you see Wooyoung; he has abandoned his red hair-dye to go back to black. Not as boisterously loud but still strikingly attractive, especially with the way it’s growing out, long strands framing his pretty face. He is wearing simple but elegant black trousers, plus a cream-coloured button up with a relaxed fit, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a low v neckline that falls just short of scandalous. It makes for a stark contrast next to San in his casual summer fit, but the two still look good together, like they always do.

“Nah, I was just saying that you’re probably going to burn all the food,” San teases his boyfriend, feline mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Wooyoung scoffs, smacking San on the shoulder as he pulls back. “All the food? It’s samgyetang,” he says in an indignant pout. “How badly do I have to mess up to burn the soup?”

“…I’ve burned soup,” you pipe up.

Wooyoung’s exaggerated offence melts away as he looks at you, a distinct sigh of ‘oh honey’ painted across his face.

“I got distracted, alright! Not my fault that I took my eyes off the stove for two minutes and suddenly it was an hour later!”

He pats your cheek with a pitying shake of his head, then turns to San with a flat expression. “Let me know if you ever need a place to stay because a certain neighbour burned the building down.”

“Hey—”

“Thanks Woo, I’ll take you up on that,” San grins, then whispers to you, “Don’t worry, I’ll save you from the fire first.”

“Thanks… but also, rude? Stop assuming I’ll set anything on fire!” you sulk at him. “Is this what I get for confiding in you guys? Mockery and distrust? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Wooyoung gives you an unimpressed look; you really should’ve known better than to appeal to his sense of shame. Predictably, he banishes you from the kitchenette when he starts to prep the small hens — but there is a small consolation; San gets banished right with you.

This way, you and San end up playing some Mario Cart while the room slowly fills with the mouth-watering aroma of Wooyoung’s cooking. It’s comfortable and homey, with plenty of back-and-forth chatter between living area and kitchen.

Eventually, Wooyoung drifts over to your side while the chickens cook, where he is an energetic and unhelpful backseat gamer to both you and San. He also pointedly shows you the timer running on his phone, like he’s sharing a vital but obscure life hack to prevent burned food.

(Wooyoung also has a brief but animated talk with San’s dad over the phone, and you smile when you catch a few threads of conversation; “Yes, he’s sleeping well, yes. No, we haven’t had dinner yet, I’m working on it! I’ll make sure he eats well too.”)

The meal is delicious, just as San advertised, and perfect for fighting today’s heat. The chicken falls apart with ease, the broth rich and flavourful with ginseng and jujubes. “So? What do you think? Be honest,” Wooyoung badgers you, an intent expression on his face; one that morphs into a happy giggle when you moan around a mouthful of food, nodding at him with knitted brows.

You swallow the food down, and give Wooyoung the most puppy-eyed look you can muster. “This, uh, this isn’t a one-time thing either, right?”

“See, I told you right? Bedroom stuff isn’t the only benefit,” he grins, while San smiles contently at your appreciation of his boyfriend’s skills. One of San’s hands casually massages the back of Wooyoung’s neck, the way he is always casual in his displays of affection.

Every now and then, you do feel like a bit of a third wheel in San and Wooyoung’s presence, like when their shared braincell ricochets off each other in patterns too intricate for you to keep up with, or whenever they get a little too lost in each others’ eyes. However, Wooyoung makes up for it by promoting you to his sous-chef for making watermelon punch, while San is relegated to dish duty.

You sink back into the couch after dessert, drowsy from a sated stomach. Wooyoung offered just one drink with the guys before you take the long journey home but, much like you once burned your soup, your heavy eyes flutter shut for just one second — and suddenly there is a blanket draped across you while you’re curled up against the armrest, and your eyes are bleary and unfocused.

You blink, slightly disoriented while you need a moment to remember where you are. It’s starting to get dusky outside, and some drama plays quietly on the TV. San is sitting right next to you, with Byeol sleeping in his lap and Wooyoung dozed off on his other side, leaned into his boyfriend’s solid frame.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash on your couch,” you say, voice a little hoarse, but San shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, eyes crinkled as he winks at you, “I’ll forgive you for breaking the no sleepover rule.”

You make a vague groggy noise, and twist your body to try and get comfortable again. San opens his arm, almost like a question, offering himself as a cushion. You don’t think about it too much, your brain still a little fuzzy from the nap, and curl into him, head resting against his shoulder.

This way, you don’t see how San brightens with the delight of someone who persuaded a skittish street cat to sniff their hand — but you do feel a sudden light pressure on the top of your head.

For a second you stiffen in tension, thinking San kissed you; but you turn slightly to see he just pressed his cheek against your head. A small but important difference in the grey lines drawn around your comfort zone. You breathe out and relax, then wiggle a little closer against him to find a comfortable angle. Safe with your friends.

“What’s the show,” you murmur sluggishly, trying to understand why the lady on the screen looks so tearful.

“Ah, see, she has this daughter,” San whispers back, and he starts an intent explanation of her tragedy that you only half-follow before you drift off again.

San stops talking when he realises you’re a goner again, shaking his head with a chuckle. He just quietly continues to watch the movie, more than happy to be a pillow for the three sleeping figures surrounding him.

As time passes, you reap more and more benefits of your close friendship with San and Wooyoung. Sharing meals, movie nights, casual outings; and something shifts so gradually that you don’t even realise at first. You go from inviting each other into plans, to naturally including one another without second thought.

It’s not that you’re always at San’s when Wooyoung is there, just like you’re pretty sure they still have plenty of sex without you, but the group chat does pop off on the regular. Everyone treats it like a given that time will be spent together; whether it be in the bedroom or not.

Also, it’s not always just the three of you hanging out. You meet some of their friends; many you recognise from Wooyoung’s photographs — although the much-discussed Yunho remains illusive for now, out of town for work. San and Wooyoung meet some of your friends as well; San even has an opportunity to wave at Hongjoong, when he walks in on you during a video call.

(Hongjoong loves mocking you for how you used to insist that this situationship was ‘not too involved’; but meeting a shy yet warm San goes a long way to assure Hongjoong that your judgement is solid this time around.)

Of course, you also continue to reap the classical perk of a ‘friends with benefits’ deal.

You were already well aware that San and Wooyoung both have a ridiculously high libido, with energy to match — and they’ve clearly taken a liking to the dynamic of having a third in the bedroom (of having you). In fact, there truly is no need to worry about intruding on them when you are usually the one who needs a break.

Sometimes you do wonder how long their interest will hold strong. It’s all new and fresh and exciting to them right now; will they revert back to a more private lifestyle once that excitement wears off? But there are no signs of that happening anytime in the near future, and you surrender yourself to the pleasure of the moment, letting yourself get dragged along by their enthusiasm.

As you do so, the nature of your sex life with San and Wooyoung starts to split into two directions; on the one hand, scenes become more planned out as elaborate fantasies are brought to the table, fantasies that sometimes require a degree of preparation. San in particular becomes more vocal about his interests — though he does always keep you and Wooyoung at the forefront of any discussion.

(Wooyoung is always at the ready to give San an encouraging nudge when he needs it, never too surprised by what San brings up. You suspect all of this is only news to you; maybe a side-effect of the openhearted conversation you had with San.)

But while the level of planning increases for some scenes, the level of spontaneity goes up for other moments.

It’s not unheard of for a casual hang-out to take a sudden, heated turn. Once, a memorable game night escalated into a round of strip poker, which further escalated when you discovered that San has terrible luck with cards. You and Wooyoung mercilessly poked fun at him for it — until San finally had enough, and turned the night around in his favour with a firm hand.

He did not allow you or Wooyoung to remove the rest of your clothes; San simply watched while you humped against Wooyoung’s clothed crotch in a frenzy, your own panties sticky and sodden, staining his trousers with your glistening arousal. Desperately you sought out friction, not stopping your rut even when Wooyoung came in his pants with a broken whine. He squirmed and whimpered as you mindlessly kept grinding on his sensitive half-hard cock, his eyes tearing up as he let you use him. But it was on Wooyoung’s thigh that you finally found the right angle, your body shuddering with sweet relief as your cunt clenched on nothing, dripping over the infuriating layers of fabric.

Only then, while you breathlessly kissed away the stray tears on Wooyoung’s cheeks, did San approach. He pulled you off Wooyoung, laying you side by side so he could take a proper look at the mess you’d made of yourselves and your clothes. Still unsatisfied, he’d plunged his fingers underneath your ruined underwear to gather your juices, and used them to slick himself up.

You’d moaned as he fucked your tits, but not as loudly as Wooyoung; San palmed him roughly through his crusted trousers, forcibly bringing him to another orgasm. San had abashedly apologised for making a mess of your bra… but only after he’d stuffed you with three fingers covered with his own cum, pulling your panties aside just enough for access.

That night, you learned a very important lesson about what happens when you tease San too much for losing a game.

(…Maybe not the lesson that San intended, since you were not exactly convinced to never tease him again; but still! A lesson was learned.)

At other times, not all planned endeavours go exactly according to plan either.

You still look back fondly on the time Wooyoung suggested everyone wore sleep masks; thinking it would lead to an evening of excitement and surprise, guessing at who was touching and being touched. But instead, you and the guys kept bursting into giggles as you blindly pawned at one another, clumsily fumbling around on the bed. San finally called it to a halt when he nearly got elbowed in his stomach — but it was not the last time you’d experiment with the masks. Just… not everyone at once.

In many ways, this thing with San and Wooyoung is the ideal situation for you. No pressure of romantic expectations, and a growing friendship that you’re coming to appreciate even more than the mind-blowing sex. (Which is saying a lot, considering.)

There is just that slight nagging in the back of your head sometimes.

The feeling that there is a timer on this arrangement, and that you are waiting for it to end. How long before something changes? Before San and Wooyoung move on to different things, or they choose to ‘focus on each other’, to move in together elsewhere, or start a family that does not include you? Before they simply… lose interest?

You tell yourself it’s silly; you stepped into this knowing fully well that you won’t be fucking around with them forever, and you need to trust that your friendship has grown into something substantial enough to survive a change of situation. That it will last, even after you fall a few steps down the list of their priorities. No matter how unlikely it is that you stay this involved in each others’ lives indefinitely, you will stay involved.

But the thought continues to nag, as thoughts are wont to do.

“We can still be friends if we stop having sex, right?”

You and Wooyoung are hanging out at your place after a long walk through the neighbourhood; Wooyoung with his new camera in hand, you mostly just trudging along for company. Now you’re resting up with a cool drink, keeping Wooyoung company once again as he gives the photos a cursory examination.

But now he blinks at you, surprised and confused by the unexpected topic. The question had slipped out of you without too much forethought, just an impulse you chased during a lull in conversation.

“…Why would we stop having sex?” he asks, a puzzled frown on his face. Like you’ve given him a riddle to solve that he can’t work out. “Do you want to stop having sex?”

“No, of course not!” you are quick to reassure him. “But you know. Things change sometimes. Situations change, priorities change. You can’t always know the future.”

“I guess,” Wooyoung says gingerly, like he never thought that far ahead before. Something draws across his face that you have a real hard time pinning down — but it clears up quickly, making way for a cheeky grin. “Yeah, obviously we’d still be friends. You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

The grin is reassuring, but you can’t quite shake Wooyoung’s earlier expression from your mind. “Good,” you say, winking back at him. “Hey to be clear, I seriously don’t plan to stop things. I just… wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Yeah, no, I get it! You’re making sure we don’t ditch you,” he teases, poking at your cheek. “Just don’t ditch us either, alright?”

“Of course not,” you say, rolling your eyes as you wave his hand away. “That was the whole poi— Oh!” You get distracted when your phone lights up with a text, so you don’t catch how quickly Wooyoung’s smile fades again. “San’s on his way, how about we get started on some food?”

Somewhere along the line, you’ve managed to convince Wooyoung that you’re not a walking fire hazard, which has led to the occasional team-up to make dinner. And today you are extra antsy to get started, considering what has been planned for later this evening.

By the time San walks in, you and Wooyoung have fallen into your familiar patterns in the kitchen, with easy and cheerful chatter that has chased the earlier awkwardness out of memory. San kisses the top of Wooyoung’s head, smacks you on the backside, light and casual (you aren’t even fazed anymore), and swipes a piece of pork from right underneath your nose.

“Aish, just five more minutes, you can’t even wait that long?” Wooyoung scolds him, but you secretly feed San another piece not ten seconds later.

Wooyoung gives you a massive side-eye when he catches you sneak bites to San — but in your defence, it’s really hard to be firm with San when he’s looking at you with shiny guileless eyes and stuffed cheeks. “The faster we eat, the faster we get to the fun after, right?” you say, barely even trying to justify yourself.

“Everyone’s always in a hurry these days. Rushing through their meal so quick they won’t even have time to taste it. Does no one appreciate well-cooked food anymore?” Wooyoung grouses, but you are not fooled. He is just as restless are you are, casting regular glances at you and San.

After all, there is quite the night planned for Wooyoung.

[archangeldyke-all]

Thinking about Sevika’s very pregnant very hormonal wife crying and complaining to her about nothing and Sevika realizing het wife just needs to be fed.

And fucked

love love love love love love love

men and minors dni

never in your life have you been this hormonal.

not during your worst periods as an adult.

not during the horrific throes of puberty as a teen.

not even when you were a toddler and a tantrum was just as likely as a giggle fit.

you think you might have truly lost your mind.

you're currently sobbing on the toilet-- you have been for the past twenty minutes-- not because you're sick or anything, but because you can't stop crying for long enough to heave your round body off the toilet seat.

and why are you crying? because you got frustrated by how often you have to pause your video game to get up and pee because you're eight fucking months pregnant, and your bladder's the size of a thimble.

you know it's a ridiculous thing to cry about. you know it's just your hormones overwhelming you. none of this knowledge can stop the sobs from wracking your body, though.

there's a knock on the bathroom door. "baby? have you seen my fuzzy socks?" sevika asks.

you sniffle and try to make your voice sound steady. "ch-check the dryer!" you call.

there's a suspicious silence outside of the bathroom, and then the door flies open, your wife wearing a worried look. "are you crying in here all alone?" she asks the moment she sees your face.

you pout, and fall apart all over again.

"oh, baby." sevika's by your side in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and pulling your head toward her stomach. "what's wrong, love?" she asks. "why didn't you come get me?" she asks.

you sniffle and choke out a few words. "b-because it's stu-u-pid!" you whine. "i can't s-s-stop cryin' and i'm not even that upse-e-et." you complain to your wife. "and now i can't get off the toilet 'cause i'm too weak from crying!"

sevika's face clears with relief when she realizes nothing's really wrong with you, and she bends down to give you a kiss. "our little girl's really runnin' a number on you, huh?" she asks, reaching down to pat your swollen belly.

you nod against sevika's shirt, using it as a face-wipe for all your tears and boogers. "i pee all the time. i f-feel like i should just live on the fuckin' toilet."

"but i'd miss you if you were in here all the time." sevika pouts. you snort. "c'mon love." she grunts as she hikes her arm under your shoulder and knees, hauling you off the toilet.

you giggle a little in your wife's arms, clinging to her as she walks you to your bedroom. "what're you doing with me?" you ask.

"'m takin' care of you." she whispers as she pulls your pants off your legs. you huff, a few tears still escaping your eyes, and sevika kisses your bare thigh.

"i haven't showered in days." you warn as sevika pushes your legs further apart. she groans.

"good. i love you musty."

you giggle a little, then cry some more. "you're gross. 'n way too nice to me." you whimper. sevika chuckles.

"my poor baby. such a fuckin' mess since i knocked you up, huh?" she teases. you nod and pout, letting your emotions control you, knowing sevika wont judge you for it. "i gotcha babe. just lay there 'n let it all out for me." she whispers, before ducking down and sucking one long stripe up your cunt.

sevika groans and you whimper as she sucks your clit into her mouth. for a few minutes, she just suckles and kisses your clit, making you a shaky, whiny mess. most of your cries are being blocked out by your moans, but there are still tears running down your cheeks.

"so fuckin' pretty when you cry, baby." sevika whispers. you gulp.

"shut up."

"it's true. your eyes get all sparkly and your skin gets all shiny-- fuck, you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen."

you huff another laugh at this-- you're covered in hormonal acne and in third day pajamas-- but sevika blinks up at you like she really means it.

"you-- would you just--" you pull sevika's mouth back to your cunt before she can make you any more flustered with her words. your emotions are swinging wildly from the sudden stubborn sad-attack you've encoutnered, and the wild, childlike excitement and bashfulness you always feel around your wife.

which means that every time she blinks up at you, her pretty silver eyes barely visible over the bump of your belly, your heart stutters and your cunt clenches and a few tears leak out of your eyes.

when she reaches up and intertwines her hands with yours, you cum. it catches you completely off guard-- but the simple, sweet, intimate gesture made you topple over into a mess of cum and tears.

they're not sad-tears anymore, though. they're tears of joy and love-- all for the woman who's crawling up from between your legs with a big smile on her lips-- your cum covering her cheeks and chin. "that was quick." she teases. (she loves how easy you are now that you're pregnant. it turns her on endlessly.)

you grunt and flip her off. "are you gonna keep teasing me or are you gonna come sit on my face?" you ask.

sevika smirks, then leans down to kiss you deeply.

you gasp against her lips, relaxing into the kiss, taking in the taste of you still on her tongue.

when sevika pulls away, your head is fuzzy and your stomach is fluttering with butterflies. you blink up at her as she grins down at you.

"you stay here and take a nap. i'm gonna draw you a bath and make you a sandwich-- then maybe i'll join you." she says with a sweet little wink.

you blink up at your wife, and then burst into a fresh round of tears. above you, sevika cackles.

"is this 'cause you can't eat me out or...?" she asks. you groan and flip her off again.

"it's 'cause you're fuckin' perfect you asshole. what the fuck?" you ask.

sevika just giggles, pulls the blankets over your body, and kisses your forehead as she hands you a few tissues.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen @micronreadzztuff22

[solarsturniolo]

𝖂𝖊'𝖗𝖊 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Matt is so 'sweet best friend that secretly jerks off to your pictures' coded (idea credit to @heartstreet )

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: angst / smut / p in v / soft!dom matt? / unprotected sex / swearing / kinda depressing at the beginning

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: THESE STORIES ARE FICTIONAL :)

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 6871

Three weeks.

He went three weeks without speaking to her. Ever since that night, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. It replayed in his head like a broken record, he couldn’t get it to stop. The way she danced with him, the way she clung to him, the way she kissed him, all of which would have normally been more than enough to get him off at least a few times. But Matt hadn’t touched himself in those three weeks. He couldn’t. How could he even think about it when he just felt miserable?

“Matt, are you coming?” 

He groggily lifted his head from his pillow, his hair sticking out in awkward directions. He struggled to open his eyes as the light flooded in through his windows. Looking over his shoulder, he squinted at his brother standing in the doorway. “Huh?”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “The meeting? With Laura? Are you coming?” 

It took a moment for the question to register in his brain, but when it did he simply grunted and dropped his head back into the pillow. 

“Dude this isn’t good for you-“

“ ‘M just tired,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillowcase as he buried his face deeper into the pillow. 

“You haven’t left your room in three days.”

Matt opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder at Chris again. “I-“

“Kitchen and bathroom don’t count. Bro, I’m seriously worried about you.”

Matt blinked in response. 

“I miss you,” Chris shrugged, not making eye contact with Matt. “I miss hanging out. You never hang out anymore. You’ll do a video then come hide back in here.” 

Matt sighed, slipping his arm out from under his tight bundle of blankets around him, rubbing his tired face. “I’m sorry, just been dealing with a lot.”

“Like what?”

“…Nothing.”

“Please talk to me, man.”

“You just…” Matt paused, wanting to find the nicest way possible to explain this to Chris. “You don’t take things seriously.” 

Chris shook his head immediately at Matt’s accusation. “I can tell when I need to take something seriously.“

Matt sighed. “Can we talk about it tonight? I just wanna sleep a little longer…”

Chris didn’t respond for a while. He wanted to talk about it now, he wanted to fix everything that his brother was going through. It pained him seeing Matt in a funk like this. The last time something like this happened was in junior year, and Chris never wanted a repeat of that for either of them. He didn’t want to leave Matt alone. If he could cancel the meeting entirely, he would. He would cancel it and lay in bed with his brother and wait however long he needed to talk. 

“I can’t cancel the meeting. Are…Are you gonna be alright?” Chris’s fingers picked at the chipped paint on the doorway. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You’ll call me if you need something?”

“Yeah, man. I’ll be alright.”

Chris nodded. The sound of Nick’s footsteps vibrated above them as he came down the stairs, walking around the corner and peeking into Matt’s room as well. “No luck?” 

“He’s tired.”

“He’s been ‘tired’ for the past fifteen days-“

Chris shot Nick a look. “He’s tired.” 

Nick nodded, getting the hint. “Gotcha. We’ll bring home some lunch, do you want anything?” 

Matt grunted softly. “I don’t care.”

“Alright,” Nick replied. It made his blood boil when Matt was short with him or moody, but he knew Matt didn’t mean to act this way. He was constantly stuck in his own head, constantly battling his thoughts, and it just so happened to be one of those periods. A temporary setback. Matt always bounced back, but it never failed to worry Chris and Nick nonetheless. “We’ll be home in a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you, Matt.”

“Love you,” Matt replied, letting his body relax again. He was beyond grateful that they weren’t trying to drag him out of bed this time around. He rolled over onto his favorite side and nuzzled back under the covers, letting his body drift back off to sleep. 

I really love you

I’ve always loved you.

The heat rose to his cheeks as her words played over and over again in his head. ‘I really love you, I’ve always loved you.’ Oh god, and she looked so pretty in his t-shirt. He could almost smell her perfume, the same scent she had worn for years. The same scent Matt grew to love. The scent he craved to get even the smallest whiff of whenever she was near. The scent that would get trapped in the fabric of his hoodies after she had borrowed them, which he refused to launder until the scent was gone entirely. Wisps of vanilla and rose petals that would infect him, his mind, his thoughts… 

Knock knock knock.

Matt groaned, closing his eyes tighter, hoping the sound would stop. Warmth enveloped his face as her soft hands cupped his face. Matt felt his heart pound against his chest. Her words were like heroin, he wanted more. He wanted to hear her talk to him for hours. Before he could even think of what to say, her lips pressed against his. He cupped her face, his lips moving slowly against hers as they shared a passionate kiss. She smelled sweet like candy, and her lips tasted like sugared lemon drops; her favorite lip balm, which quickly became Matt’s favorite as well. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. 

Ten more minutes. Please let me stay here for ten more minutes. 

Her hand caressed his cheek, their noses brushing together as she moved impossibly closer to him. Neither of them initiated for the kiss to deepen, though Matt wasn’t complaining in the slightest. This was enough for him. The tenderness, the passion, the love…it was more than enough for him. He pulled back for a moment, still close enough to feel her lips brush against his as she caught her breath. “I love you.”

BAM BAM BAM 

Matt huffed, opening his eyes once again. He groaned softly as he became suddenly aware of the tent in his boxers. Not even safe in my dreams. Rolling himself out of bed, Matt sat at the edge of his mattress, looking at his reflection in the mirror leaning against his wall. He had to admit, he was looking rough. His hair was a god awful mess, sticking out in awkward directions, his cowlick refusing to flatten when he ran his fingers through his hair. His cheeks were sunken, though it was hard to tell with his unkempt facial hair growing in. The bags under his eyes were dark, his lips were dry and cracked; he looked rough. 

BAM 

BAM

BAM

Those fucking assholes. Matt pulled on his pyjama pants, after adjusting his cock in his boxers, and stepped out of his room, hissing at the cold hardwood floor under his feet. He began to make his way to the front door, heading down the steps that led to their front entryway. “Fuck, you idiots have keys why can’t you ever fucking use them,” he grunted, unlocking the front door. “Why do I have to be the responsib-“ his voice caught in his throat as he swung the door open, his gaze landing on her. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing together as their eyes locked. 

“Oh…hi Matty.”

Matt swallowed his words, looking down at his feet, suddenly growing quiet. Matty. Even after all of this time, even after the long restless nights staring at his old messages with her, wanting nothing more than to call her and hear her gentle voice again, she addressed him by his nickname. The one he claimed to hate, though they both knew that wasn’t the case. Three weeks with no contact, and she treated him just the same as she had before. The question plagued his mind after the second day of ghosting her, wondering if she would be mad at him, wondering if she would treat him differently. How foolish of him. 

“Hey, kid,” he mumbled, his voice gravely and low. 

“Are…um…Nick and Chris here?” She asked. 

“You just missed them…They went to a meeting with Laura.”

“And you didn’t?” 

Matt shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the doorway. “I wasn’t feeling good,” he stated. Not necessarily a lie, he just knew he couldn’t explain the whole truth to her. 

“Why have you been ignoring me?” She asked him. Matt felt his heart drop into his stomach. She sniffled softly. His head snapped up and, suddenly, Matt’s behavior felt ridiculous to him. He had shut her out, he had pushed her away without even a second thought as to what she might feel or think. He examined her face; the same dark shadows under her eyes, the hollowing of her cheeks that now matched his. “Can I come in?” She tried to ask, but he heard the break in her voice. He saw her lip quiver as she spoke. He took note of her tugging at her sleeves in an attempt to distract herself from her emotional state. 

He wanted to scream, not at her but at himself. How could he have put her through this? It was selfish of him, to say the very least.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he stepped aside, allowing her to walk past him into the house. “Um, I think Nick and Chris will be back fairly soon,” Matt explained to her as he shut the front door, locking it behind him out of habit. He turned to face her. “I’m sure they don’t mind you hanging out in one of their rooms or something,” he mumbled, his gaze never meeting hers. 

“Please look at me.”

Matt obliged, looking up to meet her eyes, almost as if he was waiting for the command to do it. He felt his mouth go dry, and suddenly all of the words he knew became a jumbled mess of unintelligible alphabet soup in his head. “You haven’t talked to me in weeks…Did…Did I do something to upset you?” She asked him, worry and sincerity clear in her tone. She spoke slowly, thoughtfully; she didn’t want to come off like she was accusing him of anything. 

“No,” Matt started, licking his dry lips as he looked at her. Even now, exhausted and clearly hurt by the situation at hand, she still looked beautiful. He could look at her all day and never grow tired of it. “You didn’t do anything to upset me.” He could feel his hands growing clammy, his hands balling into fists and slipping into his pockets. 

“I must’ve done something… I mean, it's been three weeks, Matt,” she whispered. 

Matt pursed his lips, his heart ramming against his chest. Without warning, Matt felt his eyes glossing over, his lip trembling. “I did something awful, and I…I fucking hate myself so much,” he rasped. He watched as her beautiful, encapsulating eyes widened. She stepped toward him, concern written across her face, her hand reaching out to touch his bicep. 

You’re disgusting, Matt. How could you put her through this? All for your own selfish benefit. What will she do when you tell her? She has every right to hate you. She’d be stupid not to. You’re a greedy, disgusting creep. 

“Matty? Talk to me.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “Please?” Her hand grasped his bicep ever so gently, and Matt looked down at her. It was like she had turned a light on inside of him. The jumbled mess tangled in his brain became undone in seconds. He felt the world come to a standstill. He could breathe again.

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath.

With a sharp exhale, Matt pursed his lips; something that had become a habit of his. “You’re gonna hate me.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I could never hate you.”

Matt stayed quiet, looking down at the floor. It didn’t take long for her soft fingers to rest beneath his chin, gently lifting his head to meet her gaze once again. Matt could have melted as he basked in the beautiful light of her smile. He felt her hand slip upwards to cup his cheek, her soft fingers brushing against the gruff texture of his messy facial hair. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Sorry for what?” She asked, her words laced with confusion, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at him. “Matt, please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Matt sighed. He pulled away from her touch and made his way up the stairs, her following close behind him. He went and took a seat on the couch in the living room, his elbows digging into his knees as he held his head in his hands. He wanted to tell her, she deserved to know. It wasn’t right for him to keep this from her…but God he was terrified to know what she’d think of him. The seat next to him sunk down as she took a seat beside him, gently rubbing his arm to soothe him. “Matt?”

“I…really like you,” he whispered. “Like, really like you.”

“Matt…I like you too-”

“No,” he shook his head. “I have liked you for fucking years and I’ve always pussied out of telling you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. I tried to ignore it for years, but…” he trailed off, taking a second to breathe. He needed to relax, to give himself time to put together exactly what he wanted to say and exactly how he wanted to say it. “I mean, I’ve liked you since middle school. I always thought you were funny and pretty and kind…Nick and Chris tried to set me up so many times so I could ask you out, but I just…I couldn’t do it.” He rubbed his face, his heart ramming against his chest from finally having the courage to tell her everything. After all of these years, his secret was out. “I never wanted to cut you off or ignore you, but after what you said that night-”

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking at him in confusion. “What did I say?” 

His heart stung a little. You don’t even remember…You don’t even remember telling me you loved me. Do you remember kissing me? Did it mean anything to you? Was it all just a drunken mistake to you? What am I thinking? Of course it meant nothing. I’m nothing, no one. “You said you loved me,” he replied simply, still refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I…I said that?”

Matt nodded. “You kissed me, too.”

“I…I don’t even remember that…” she admitted. 

“That doesn’t surprise me, you were pretty drunk. I figured it was all just some drunken mistake,” he sighed. 

She shook her head, moving closer to his side. “Just because I was drunk doesn’t mean it was a mistake.”

“You don’t even remember it,” he reminded her. 

His heart stopped as her fingers gently traced his jaw, his head turning to meet her gaze. She was close, too close. He could smell her perfume, it made him feel dizzy just thinking about burying his face into her neck to drown himself in it. She looked deep into his eyes, Matt could have melted at the warmth in her gaze. “Help me remember,” she whispered, searching for any glimpse of hesitation or uncertainty in his eyes. He felt her lean in closer to him and he mirrored her, leaning in as well. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

She didn’t respond, not verbally anyways. Her hand caressed his cheek, fingers brushing against his messy stubble. She closed the gap between them, her soft lips gently pressing against Matt’s. He felt his face heat up, warmth flooding his cheeks, she could surely feel it on her fingertips. He kissed her back slowly. Is this real? Please let this be real. If this is a dream, please let me stay here forever. 

Engulfed in a wave of passion, she pressed her free hand against his chest, her manicured nails gently grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Her head was swirling, her stomach churning as he cupped her face in his hands, their intimacy growing with each moment that passed by. He could hardly think straight, all he could focus on was her. The intoxicating scent of her perfume that had him feeling faint, the sweet taste of her lemon flavored lip balm, her soft skin caressing his; every thought he had was about her. It was always about her. 

He didn’t break the kiss for a second, he pulled her into him, his arms hooking around her and lifting her up as he rose to his feet. He smiled as she giggled into the kiss, humming softly against her lips. Matt felt her legs hook around his waist and he prayed that she couldn’t feel his erection pressing against her. He carried her swiftly to his bedroom, blindly shutting the door behind him with his foot. Tossing her onto his bed, a soft squeal escaped her and she looked up at him with her eyes that were sparkling with excitement. Matt crawled onto the bed, moving slowly, almost prowling like a predator, his arms resting on either side of her head to hold himself up above her. “I’m never letting you go again,” Matt mumbled softly, pressing a kiss to her soft sweet lips. 

She brought her hands up to his messy hair, tangling her fingers in the soft waves. “Don’t,” she murmured back, taking his bottom lip between her teeth. Matt groaned, the blood rushing to more than just his cheeks. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck at the feeling of her thigh lifting, his cock aching under the fabric of his thin pyjama pants. “F-Fuck, don’t do that.” He bit softly at her shoulder, sloppy open mouthed kisses trailing down to her collarbone. “I…I won’t be able to control it.” 

“I don’t want you to,” she breathed out.

Matt felt her thigh lift again, and he gave in. He rolled his hips, a low growl emitting from the back of his throat. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he grunted against her skin, nipping softly at her neck once more. He felt her fingers tug at his hair and Matt looked up to meet her lustful gaze. “I do,” she argued. Her eyes flickered to his lips, and she licked hers in anticipation. Matt’s dick throbbed, he could feel the precum dampening the fabric of his boxers. You do. You know how long I’ve wanted this because you’ve wanted it to. You’ve wanted me.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat, his brain hardly having the time to keep up with everything that was happening. He gasped as she pushed him off of her, his back landing softly against the mattress. He watched in awe as she hooked her leg over his thighs, straddling his waist, the bulge in his pants being far from unnoticeable at this point. His eyes traced every inch of her body, his mind only being able to process how beautiful she looked. Her hair fell in dark waves over her shoulders, her skin glowed in the soft orange haze emitting from the LED strips taped to his ceiling. Reaching one hand up, Matt gently dragged his knuckle along her cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his fingers delicately tucking her hair behind her ear. His lips connected with hers again, pulling her body closer to his. 

Not bearing the thought of breaking the kiss, Matt blindly fumbled with the drawstrings of his pyjama pants. Sensing the desperation from him, she moved her hands down to his lap to assist his failing attempts. The soft graze of her fingers over his crotch made his cock jolt, his hips bucking forward as a whorish moan fell from his lips into her mouth. Her teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip as she kissed him, her confidence never faltering. Her soft hands slipped under the waistband of his pants. Matt was almost sure he was going to cum on the spot. Her fingers dragged slowly along the dick print in his boxers, and Matt found it very difficult to focus. She was so gentle. Matt could feel the warmth from her palm as her hand cupped him. His lips had trouble keeping up with hers. His mind flooded with adrenaline and dopamine. “I need you,” he exhaled, his nose brushing against hers, lips ghosting over her own. “Please, I’ve needed you for so long.”

She laughed softly. “How do you want me, Matty?”

“Just like this,” he whispered, pressing his lips softly to the corner of her mouth, kissing down to her jaw. He pulled her closer to him, groaning softly as her hips moved against his ever so slightly. “Please, I wanna see you. I wanna watch you,” he mumbled, his lips now pressed to the underside of her jaw, sucking softly at her skin. He dreamed of this for years; kissing her, marking her, letting everyone know that she was his. 

She gasped softly, her head falling to the side to allow Matt access to her neck. The softest of whines fell from her lips, doing nothing to ease Matt’s excitement. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed, his voice coated thick with desire. His teeth nipped at her soft skin. His hands ran up her sides and swiftly over her chest. His fingers trembled as he hesitantly let his hands rest on the plush of her breasts. His breath felt hot against her skin, his rhythm faltered slightly. He stopped for a moment to admire her, looking up to meet her gaze. Matt swallowed his nerves, panting softly from the pure sensual intimacy. It was the furthest he had ever gone and it was driving him crazy. Twenty years old and it was the first time he had held a woman this close to him, the first time he had ever felt the weight of a woman’s breasts in his hands, the first time he had ever left a mark on someone. 

She could tell that he was nervous; she found it cute. His inexperience, his shy demeanor, his soft touches. It was driving her crazy. Her hands came down to rest on top of his, and almost immediately he went to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but was shocked when she grasped his wrists, bringing his hands back to her chest. His dick ached in his boxers, a feeling he was all too familiar with when it came to her. She closed the gap between them, leaning in and kissing him once more. His hands were steady now, his confidence boosted. A wave of courage surged through him, his hands squeezing her soft breasts as he kissed her. She hummed against his lips, a sound that he was still learning to get used to. 

His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shirt. “Please,” his voice muffled against her lips, afraid that if he pulled away it would all disappear. She didn’t need him to say anything more though, and she pulled away from the kiss for a moment, just long enough to pull her shirt off over her head and toss it blindly onto the floor of Matt’s bedroom. Matt’s hands cupped her breasts once again, grunting softly against her plump lips as his fingers came in contact with her bra. “You couldn’t make this easy for me, huh?” he breathed out, looking up through his enviously long eyelashes at her as his hands snaked behind her. She giggled softly, her own hands holding his shoulders to keep herself steady. “To be fair, I didn’t think we’d end up here. I thought you hated me,” she hummed. 

“I could never hate you,” he repeated her words from earlier, his large hands encompassing her breasts. She whimpered, pursing her lips. “I’ve loved you for too long to ever hate you.”

He pressed kisses to her chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Any confidence he had built washed away as the clasp stayed clipped behind her. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried again to unclasp it but to no avail. He huffed in annoyance. “This is fucking stupid.”

“Need some help?” She laughed softly, reaching behind her and swiftly unclasping her bra. Matt ran his hands gently up to her shoulders, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms. He watched in awe as the fabric fell from her chest, revealing her perfect ample breasts. All he could do was stare for a solid minute, admiring her in every way possible. They were absolutely perfect. They were heavy but still somehow perky, her pink nipples hardened under his gaze. He licked his lips. She blushed as he stared at her, not used to the intimate tension between them. “Stop,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to hide her face, her arms covering her chest. Matt’s strong hands grasped her wrists delicately, pulling her hands away from her face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re just-”

“I know,” she sighed. 

Matt raised an eyebrow, seeing the way her expression changed. “I don’t think you do...” He let his gaze flicker down to her chest once again, a soft moan echoing at the back of his throat, his cock throbbing in his boxers. “Can I touch you?”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, answering him with a single nod of her head. Her arms fall to her sides, allowing him access to her chest once again. He grazed her chest with his rough fingers, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. The sound she made was like a drug, he wanted it injected into his veins. He softly pinched her nipples, his palms cupping the weight of her chest. She watched him as soft moans fell from her lips, all she could think about was how badly she craved him. How badly she wanted him. Matt lifted her breasts ever so slightly before letting go of them, watching them fall back to their resting position. He reached behind him, tugging the hem of his shirt up over his head. He blindly tossed his shirt to the side, not caring where it landed. Once it was off of him, Matt pulled her body even closer to his, their chests pressing together. Matt cupped her cheek, kissing her hungrily. Their lips moved together passionately, synchronizing perfectly. 

She moaned softly, reaching between them and slipping her hand under the waistband of his pants. “So big, Matty,” she whispered softly against his lips, a shiver running down his spine as the warmth of her hand cupped him through his underwear once again. Jaw going slack, Matt let out yet another sound of bliss. He felt himself aching for her, aching to be inside of her. He needed it. He’d die without it. “I need you, Matt,” she admitted, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. His voice caught in his throat as he kissed her, his hands slipping from her waist to tug his pyjama bottoms down. He groaned, slipping his thumbs under the band of his pants and boxers, sliding them down to his thighs. His cock stood proudly, his tip red and swollen as his arousal leaked from his slit. 

She parted from the kiss for a moment, looking down at his lap. Her mouth watered at the sight of his erection. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it. He was big, at least seven or eight inches. He kept the hair trimmed and neat. He had the most perfect dick she had ever laid her eyes on. He took his cock in his large hand, stroking himself slowly as she watched him. Matt groaned again. “You did this,” he mumbled lowly. “You make me feel like this. Look at what you do to me.” He panted, coating his shaft with the precum leaking into his hand. “F-Fuck, I’m so tired of my hand, baby. Been wanting you for months.”

He watched as she shimmied out of her own shorts, kicking them off of her and onto the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. She sat herself on his thighs, her fingers tracing over her heat through her panties. Matt practically drooled at the sight of her arousal pooling in her underwear. Her fingers circled over her clit slowly, her lip catching between her teeth. Matt fisted at his cock, his gaze never daring to tear away from her. He let out a shaky breath, his hair falling in front of his face, his swollen pink lips parting as whorish whines forced their way out of his throat. “You did this,” she copied. Sliding her nimble fingers over the patch of wetness her arousal had made. He groaned, licking his lips. He watched her breasts rise and fall with each breath she took, her plush thighs pressing against either side of his as she sat on his lap. Matt used his free hand to touch her waist, thumbing at her soft skin. Her eyelids were heavy, her eyes glossed over with desire and longing. 

Matt hesitated. He wanted to move forward, he wanted to continue. His nerves got the best of him though, and he froze. This was real. This was happening. And he had no idea how to move forward with it. Maybe I should have had sex before this, maybe then I wouldn’t be so awkward and nervous. What do I do now? Do I touch her? Do I kiss her again? 

As if she could sense it, she leaned in and kissed him softly. “Don’t think too much, you’re doing great,” she whispered. His heart swelled at her praiseful words. “I’m sorry-” he started, but she stopped him with another swift kiss on the lips. She pulled her underwear down and kicked them off, leaving herself bare in front of him. Matt kissed her back, bringing both of his hands down to her waist. She hummed against his lips, hooking her arms around his shoulders. 

Matt laid back against the pillows once more, pulling her hips toward him. “Let me taste you,” he hummed. “Please.”

She obliged, letting him maneuver her to exactly where he wanted her. Matt’s fingers dug into the plush skin of her thighs, pulling her hips down toward his face. She gasped, feeling the warmth of his tongue delicately lick a stripe up her heat. Her fingers knotted in his hair, her stomach lurching as she took a sharp inhale. A cocky smile tugged at his lips. Matt pressed a supple kiss to her clit, one of his hands sliding up her thigh. He flattened his tongue against her drooling pussy, moaning as her arousal coated his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was sweet, like freshly picked cherries. Juicy and ripe with flavor. Matt licked another stripe through her folds, circling her clit gently with his tongue. His nose brushed softly against her pelvis. Every breath he took filled his lungs with the sweet scent of vanilla, his head was spinning as it infected his brain, encapsulating every thought of his. He flicked his tongue, earning a sweet mewl of pleasure from her. He did it again, receiving the same rewarding sound in return. 

Matt kissed her clit again, sucking ever so delicately. He felt her squirm above him and he slipped his hands up to her waist, holding her still. He flicked his tongue over her clit again and again, loving the beautiful sounds she made, the sounds that he made her make. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed to have her. He pulled her hips down to feel the weight of her on top of him. He shook his head slightly, burying his face between her thighs, his nose brushing against her bundle of nerves as he swirled his tongue experimentally between her folds. She gasped, rocking her hips against his face. Matt groaned, finding the sight above him almost pornographic. He had only dreamed of this moment more times than he could count. He had spent years studying, learning all of the things that women loved and hated. He wasn’t going to ruin his shot with her. 

“M-Matt,” she whined, running her fingers through his messy hair, pushing it out of his face. Matt hummed a soft ‘thank you’ against her, smirking when he got another moan from her in response. “Matty, feels so good,” she sighed, rolling her hips against his face again. He flattened his tongue against her heat. She let her head fall back, continuing to rock her hips to get herself off on his tongue. Matt may have been inexperienced, but he could have fooled her. 

“Please, I want you Matt,” she breathed out. “I need to feel you inside of me.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to her clit one last time before releasing his iron grip on her waist, letting her lift her hips. She moved back to straddle his waist, Matt reaching between their bodies. He took ahold of his shaft, gently rubbing his tip through her soaked folds. She whined, lowering her hips. Matt groaned as his tip pressed against her entrance, breathing out sharply as it slipped through her folds again. “F-Fuck,” he grunted, his face flushed with heat. He tried again, lining himself up with her entrance. He choked out a flustered moan as it slipped again, his tip sliding over her clit. Matt felt like he could cry, embarrassed by his inexperience. 

“Nice and easy, baby,” she cooed, replacing his hand with her own and lining himself with her entrance once again. She slowly let her hips drop, and Matt gasped as he felt her sink down onto his shaft. His jaw went slack, shaky breaths falling from his lips. Her tight cunt swallowed his cock, a feeling that Matt had been dreaming of for years. He groaned as she took all of him, his hands grasping her waist tightly, fingers digging into her hip bones. “Holy f-fuck.”

“S-So big, Matty,” she exhaled. Matt looked down at where their bodies connected, swallowing the lump in his throat. He moved one of his hands to her lower abdomen, his fingers tracing over the very faint outline of his cock through her skin. “I-Is this supposed to…” he trailed off, pressing his hand softly against her abdomen, earning a high pitched whine from her. She lifted her hips, Matt watching in awe as she sunk back down onto him. 

She kept her pace slow and controlled, her pussy clenching around his cock with each rise and fall of her hips. He panted, desire coursing through him. He had never felt pleasure this satisfying before. Jerking off couldnt even begin to compare to this. He had dreamed of this, of what her pussy would feel like around him. It was even better than he could have imagined. The warmth, the tightness, her sounds. Matt whined, closing his eyes tightly. His head fell back against the pillows. He bucked his hips up, choking out a cry as the pleasure flooded through his body. His muscles tightened, his body trembled, his head felt cloudy. 

Matt took a second to catch his breath, and then he froze. He opened his eyes, looking up at her with guilt ridden eyes. There’s no fucking way…

“Did you just-”

Matt’s ears glowed red with embarrassment. He watched as she lifted her hips, his cock still erect and standing proudly as she raised herself off of him. Matt felt his stomach tighten as his cum oozed from her entrance, sliding down her thighs. He swallowed, his throat feeling unbelievably dry. There’s no fucking way I just came. It’s been, what? Five minutes? 

She looked at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t describe. Was it disappointment? It had to be.

Matt sat upright, pulling her closer to him. He brushed her hair out of her face, his fingers touching her cheek. “No, no I’m not ready for this to be over,” he mumbled before kissing her hungrily. She let out a surprised moan, her hands coming up to cup his face. He reached between their bodies, lining himself up with her entrance yet again. 

He slipped into her with ease, groaning as he bottomed out almost immediately. He brought his large hands down to her ass, guiding her hips. She caught on, rocking her hips at the pace he had set. She moaned against his soft lips, feeling him fill her up with each slow sensual thrust. Matt lifted her up slightly, rolling both of them over so that she was laying beneath him, never pulling away from her for even a second. He held himself up by his forearms, burying himself deep inside of her. A mix between a groan and a growl escaped his throat, his hips bucking forward again to re-live the feeling. “Such a tight pussy, fuck, I knew you’d be tight for me.” He ducked his head down into her neck, sloppy kisses covering her skin . “F-Fuck, baby. Can’t blame me f-for cumming fast when you feel th-this good.” 

She whined, acknowledging his words though she couldn’t figure out what to say in response. Her head was clouded with thoughts of him. Her body trembled under his touch. She clenched around him with each thrust he made. She bit her lip, trying her best to hold back her sounds, but Matt wasn’t having it. He brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip, gently pulling it from where it was trapped between her teeth. “Let me hear you, princess.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a sight that drove him crazy. He began thrusting a little faster, satisfaction feeding his ego when he heard her moans fall from her lips. “Atta girl, fuck you sound so pretty…look so pretty too,” he mumbled. He sharply bucked his hips forward, a pornographic moan escaping her. Matt grunted, repeating the action in a desperate attempt to hear it again. His hand slid down to her chest, his fingers tweaking her nipple just the way she liked it. He watched in amusement as she squirmed beneath him, whining and panting, a complete mess. 

His hips snapped forward, his reward being another whorish moan. He was obsessed with the way her ample tits bounced and recoiled with each thrust he made. The headboard began to rock into the wall, knocking against it. “I fucking love you,” he breathed out, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He bit and sucked at her skin, marking her with his lips. “You’re mine,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Say it. Say you’re my girl.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to speak but only the soft sounds of her enjoyment answered him. He grunted, his arm wrapping around her back, pressing her body against his. “Say it.”

“Y-Yours,” she managed to squeak out. “I love you, I-I’m yours,” she replied. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled, thrusting into her again and again, his second orgasm building up inside of him. He felt her clench around his cock, his hips jolting forward. “Want you to cum for me,” he growled, sucking another mark into her skin as he rocked his hips into hers, burying his dick inside of her. 

She whined, reaching down between their bodies to rub her clit, her heart pounding, her blood pumping, her breathing growing rapid and uneven. Matt could tell that she was close, he had watched enough porn to know the signs. He felt a sense of pride, he had worried that he wouldn’t perform well his first time but it was proving to be the opposite. “Say my name,” Matt demanded. 

“M-Matt-”

“Again.”

“M-Mmph…” she whimpered, body tensing up as her orgasm began to wash over her. Matt grunted in her ear, roughly thrusting into her. “Say my name.”

“F-Fuck, Matt!” she cried out, a string of filthy moans following as she reached her high. Her thighs began to tremble, her body flooded with warmth. Matt groaned as she clenched around him again, and it was the last thing he needed to reach his own orgasm. Matt thrusted his hips a couple more times, riding out his high as he filled her with his load, his cum leaking out of her tight pussy and down his shaft. He breathed heavily as he came down from the euphoric feeling, lifting himself up to look down at her. 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, hazy and glossed over with desire. He stroked her cheek, his thumb gently running over her lips. She watched his gaze, no guy had ever looked at her like this before, especially after sex. His eyes held so much love and adoration. “I hope you know I’m never gonna be able to get over you.” 

She laughed softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Who said you’d need to?”

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: trust me, im cooking. He didn't tell her the 'awful thing he did' for a reason.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @cupidsword @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @m4ttslvr @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @querenciasturniolo @sturnioz @luverboychris @meerkatzthings @soupuurr @gemofthenight @sturniolofan4lifee @hi-7-hi @blahbel668 @mattspleasure @whicked-hazlatwhore @mqttittude

[hotheadedhero]

*peeks in here*

*walks away to check if you do bayverse*

*return*

The bay bois getting an s/o who will occasionally will randomly be cuddling and then... *Affectionate bite* then letting go and telling them they love them.

AN: As an affectionate biter myself, I gotcha babes ;)

Affectionate Biting

Bay Turtles x Reader

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, an insomniac trying to grammar <3

Leonardo

The first time you oh-so casually bit him and smiled afterwards as if it was nothing had him going for a spin. Confused is the prominent word to describe how he was feeling at the time. The action was just so unprompted. He couldn't figure out why you felt the need to do something like that, nor how it could be seen as an act of love.

He's learnt over time that it's an unavoidable urge for you. There's nothing you can do about it. You just have to bite him for whatever reason you deem necessary. Leo is all too aware of this by now and may or may not use it to his advantage.

"For every hour we're out tonight, I'll give you a free bite. No questions asked, okay?"

These are terms you can comply with. He knows how much you miss him when he's gone, so setting up this ultimatum is an effective way of letting him go on patrol more easily.

Raphael

Being with you has involved its fair share of revelations and discoveries. There's at least a handful of things he's become savvy to whilst being with you but the random biting is one of the more bizarre ones.

Actions speak louder than words and they always mean the most to him but biting? What's up with that? Humans are weird. That's the conclusion he's come to. Even now in this very moment, you've taken a hold of his wrist whilst curled up in bed together.

"What are you, a cat or something? Quit it."

Of course, he's only joking. It's just so he can see your tongue poke out and your nose scrunch up in the cute way he likes. Even if he did seriously mean for you to stop, he doubts you would. You live by your own rules when it comes to these things. And, sure, you can bite him if you like. Just as long as you expect to get bitten back.

Donatello

It may catch him by surprise from time to time but only because you do it in the most random of situations. Whilst he's working away and you're sitting in his lap, you'll just latch onto the closest part of him you can access. He might jump if he's in the zone but it's never an issue.

Regardless of it being a problem or not, you've had your own curiosities about why you have such a primal impulse to chomp down on your boyfriend. Luckily, Donnie being as knowledgeable as ever has the answers.

"... the desire to pseudo-bite or squeeze anything we find extremely cute is actually a neurochemical reaction. 'Cute aggression' isn't motivated by vicious intent. Instead, scientists think-"

He halts on his words, blinks out of his matter-of-fact mode, and gazes down at you. All the while, you have his forearm locked between your teeth. Your attempt to smile coyly against his skin is adorable, and he smiles back before continuing his explanation.

Michelangelo

He won't ask any questions. In all honesty, he loves it. Although, there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding the first couple of times you went to take a nip at him. Let's just say he thought you were trying to get him in the mood. Can't blame a guy for assuming his lover is a little freaky in the sheets.

Having such a strong force overcome you is something he understands, though. It's like him when it comes to pulling a fast one over his brothers. You can bite him whenever you want to if that's what you feel you need to do. Even if you turned into a zombie, he'd still let you.

"And then we could be like, zombie lovers roaming the streets together."

Mikey holds his arms out, hands dangling as he playfully groans like the undead. You aren't entirely sure how the conversation developed like that but it's cute nonetheless. Hey, he's just being honest. He loves you that much.

[chimindity]

Sunset

Summary | Being JJ's girlfriend means watching the sunset everday. Request by @/anon

Pairing | John B's sister!reader x JJ

Warning | nothing, well just JJ being JJ :p

A/N | I looove writing about JJ!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's already been more than three hours since you and your boyfriend were on the beach, collecting shells while JJ keeps convincing you to go swim with him.

-"urgh wait— I found a good one" he sighs looking for any pretty shells, when he notices one, he picks it up and run to hand it to you.

You look up at him excited as he gives you the shell, your eyes widens at how pretty its looks -"baby! This one is beautiful" you exclaim as he sits beside you, drenching your pink towel.

-"JJ!! You're wetting my towel" you whine trying to pull him away but it only makes him get closer to you, -"can I get you wet as well?" He looks at you while smirking.

You roll your eyes and get back to focus on making a bracelet, until JJ notices it he couldn't believe how talented you are.

-"let me take a look at it, mama" he leans down to take a glance at the blue and pink bracelets, -"I'm making us a matching bracelet" you say smiling while showing them infront of him.

He looks proudly at you, picking up the shell from your lap and place it on top of your head, causing you to furrow your eyebrows at his action.

-"JJ? Wh—" he cuts you off, pressing his index against your lips.

-"shh let's pretend its a crown" he chuckles as its falls from your head, you roll your eyes and tie the final knot on your bracelet, you could feel your boyfriend's stare on you.

-"could you stop looking at me like that?" You stop in your tracks giggling at him, as he places his hand on his chest acting dramatically shocked.

-"you cannot ask your boyfriend to stop looking at you" he exclaims, you take his hand and place it on your laps.

-"ooh I see, you're getting naughty, doing it on the beach—" you cut him off by glaring at him, he quickly understands what you meant and shuts up.

-"it's for the bracelet babe!" You finally speak while tying a knot around his wrist, still feeling his stare on you as soon as you're done trying the bracelet, you lean on him puckering your lips to give him a kiss on the mouth.

-"you're the best girl ever, here let me do it for you" he pulls away and watch you struggling tying the bracelet on your own hand, you swift your hand toward him.

He gently hold your wrist to tie a knot on the bracelet, you give him a peck on the cheek and stand up looking at the sun going down already.

You were too focus on watching the sun you didn't hear JJ coming closer to you griping your hips -"gotcha" he chuckles as you turn back to face him punching his chest playfully.

-"why don't you watch the sunset with me?" a pout forming on your face, causing him to look away while smirking, knowing how hard is it to resist you.

-"let me think about it..Only if I get to kiss you whenever I want" his hands on your hips he turns you back, facing now the sunset, he plants his lips on your neck, kissing you deeply.

-"i love you more than anything" you talk as you keep watching the sunset, feeling your boyfriend whisper against your warm skin -"love you too baby" he responds wrapping his arms around your waist, resting on top of your shoulder.

In your boyfriend's arms nothing could happen to you, you felt safe more than ever.

Taglist

@nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl

[littlepadika]

Good Man

warnings: no outbreak daddy Joel, ddlg, fem little 🙇‍♀️ , discussion of age play, meanie shamers, bad words

notes: based on an angsty dream i had. i needed daddy comfort 😭 idk if anyone reads daddy joel anymore but i hope you likie ❤️ 💕

"And he wanted me to call him daddy!" Your friend, Steph, shrieked causing everyone at the table to laugh. Everyone except for you who had been enjoying the story up until this point. Now you chewed your lip.

"I hate that, honestly." Your other friend, Olivia, said. "It's gross. Like... it's just gross."

You feel your face heat up. You try to think of something to say some retort.

"It's these older men who get off on it." Steph agreed. "It's like why can't they date women their own age. They're creeps"

"I don't know guys it's kind of hot." Elise, sitting to your right, leans forward and wiggles her eyebrows. You feel a bit of relief.

"Ew!" Steph laughed.

"I mean- like sexually. Not like all the time. That's too weird for me." And the relief was gone

"What do you think?" Elise turns to you.

You feel your face grow hot. Your brain already felt fuzzy from worrying about what to say. None of them knew about Joel. They knew you were with someone older but the nature of your relationship was totally private.

"I think- I think it's fine. If that's what people like and they consent to it."

"So diplomatic." Olivia snickered. "We know you like them older."

You know it was said in fun but you felt your eyes sting with frustrated tears. You honestly didn't know where all this emotion was coming from. But it was almost like a rejection of you, even if they didn't know. If you ever thought you could confide in them now you know you can't.

"I mean... they're kinda taking advantage of you. Like you have to wonder...like it's one step away from a ped-" Steph crossed her arms.

"Steph!" Elise glared at her.

"Bathroom." You stood up and bolted as fast as you could. You hated that you cried from frustration. Like the moment you need to speak up your tears get in the way. You text Joel to come pick you up.

You know they are talking about you when you get back because they immediately stop talking and plaster on cheery smiles.

"Hey! Should we get another round." You can tell Steph feels bad for her words.

"That's okay i'm going to head home."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah we got carried away-obviously you aren't- you know-"

"It's fine." You looked away "I was feeling off anyways."

Joel pulls up a few minutes later. You just want to run into his arms and cry but you know your friends are still watching you leave.

"Just drive." You mumble as soon as the door is shut.

"Have fun?" Joel asks, squeezing your leg with his free hand.

And you instantly burst into tears before you can get your seatbelt on.

"Oh dear." He pulls into a parking space at the back of the lot. "What-what?" He cups your face in his big hands. "Petal talk to me..." His big brown eyes search your face, seeing the softness in your eyes and pouty bottom lip. "Oh baby..." He helps you scoot over into his lap and you cry into his neck. In his mind he's trying to think of anything that may be causing this but he just lets you cry.

"D-daddy..." You cry.

"I'm here, petal. I gotcha." He strokes your head. Inhaling his scent and feeling his big strong arms made you even more mad at what your friends said. Joel was not a bad man. He was your daddy there was no other way to sum up what he meant to you. Safety, protection, acceptance, strength... When you quieted down he peels your face off him and wipes your tears.

"Can you talk to daddy? Hmm? Can you find that big girl voice?"

You try to speak but it just comes out like a whimper.

"Aw I know... you can do it. Let's take a deep breath all the way... yeah... let that big girl voice come back to you..." you have to take your big girl breaths a couple of time before you finally speak.

"Dey-dey said" You sniffle "daddies are bad men."

"Your friends?" Joe felt his heart sink.

"Mhm dey said you were a- a- creep. And I was gross. But you aren't daddy!" You grip his shirt fiercly "You aren't!"

"I'm sorry you had to hear that baby." His heart just aches in his chest. "Some people are too small minded to imagine anythin' different than what they have. They don't understand it, petal."

"But why?"

"It's just how they live their life. Don't know nothin' else." He knows the feeling all too well. How many times has he had to endure awkward conversations about his relationship with you. He got on daddy sites secretly and always felt wrong doing it. But something changed once he started establishing a real relationship with you. Pure love. And so much more than he thought.

"I didn't tell them daddy but i wanted to. I wanted to tell dem you were a good man."

"It's okay baby." Joel smiled.

"No, daddy!" You insisted, cupping his face and looking very serious. "You are a good man."

"Th-Thank you, petal." Joel felt himself tear up a little at your sincerity. Because some days it didn't feel like it. You only got a taste of the hate in the world you had no idea. And Joel was doing his damndest to keep it from you. "You're a good girl. Such a good girl..."

It was so easy at home to just let go and be what each other needed. But the rest of the world wasn't ready for it.

"I don wanna be secret." You confess in a small voice, tears coming back anew but this time they felt different. "I don't wanna be..." you search for the word but couldn't come up with it.

"I know... we'll find a place where we can be ourselves. I swear to you, baby." Joel promises into your hair. He promised himself he would find more members of the community so you would find friendship and acceptance. So he would, too.

"I love you daddy."

"I love you too petal. Loud and proud." He kisses you gently.

~~~~~~~

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@Teddy2510

@phillygraves

[t0msvi4gra]

PLS WRITE A 2008/2010 SMUT F!READER WITH TOM WHERE UR BEING REALLY BRATTY AND DISOBEDIENT SO HE FUCKS THE ATTITUDE OUT U WHILE BEING REALLLYYY DOMINANT LIKE OVERSTIMULATION AND/OR NOT LETTING READER CUM AND CALLING HER NAMES LIKE CUMSLUT, FUCKTOY, CUMDUMP, GOOD GIRL, STUFF LIKE THAT WHERE HE EATS HER OUT AND DOESNT LET HER CUM THEN FUCKS HER AND DOESNT LET HER STOP CUMMING PLSPSLSPLS THIS MIGHT BE A LOT SORRYRY

THIS IS SEXYY AND ITS NOT TOO DETAILED I LOVE DETAILED ASKSSS!!!

HARSH PUNISHMENT | TOM KAULITZ X FEM!READER

a/n this does contain forced sex. it is NOT rape so dont be in my comments telling me that it is. you dont like it? scroll and block. that easy.

you were on a date with tom and the waiter comes over.

“hi my name is corey and i’ll be your server for today. can i get you any drinks to start off with?” he asks holding his pen and pad up.

“uh yeah i’ll take a (drink)” you say looking at the menu but then looking up at him.

“and i’ll take a coke.” tom says and nods before looking at you.

“alright i’ll have those out.” he smiles and heads to get the drink.

tom looks at the server and glares at him as he walks away. “what the fuck was that?” he asks leaning in and whispering.

“what? i just looked at him.” you ask confused.

“bullshit, i saw the way you looked at him.” tom was always like this. jealous, protective and so very possessive of you, he trusted you he just had a feeling in the back of his mind you would leave him. “babe, i was just being nice thats all. i promise i would never ever do anything else with anyone.” you say trying to reassure him.

“okay whatever.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

the server comes back with your drinks. “you guys ready to order?” he asks softly, noticing toms death glare.

i nod, “yeah im ready, i would like the (favorite food) please.” you say softly, closing the menu. “of course, and for you sir?” he asks looking at tom.

“yeah i’ll just get the chicken alfredo.” he says coldly. “uh yeah i got you. alright i’ll be right out with those.” he nods and leaves.

after you get done eating tom pays and you and him head back to his car. but on the way there a college guy drops his books, “oh let me get those for you.” you pick them up and you hand them to him. “thank you” he nods and smiles and walks off and right when you turn around tom stands behind you and looks at you angrily, you know what this means.

“get. in the fucking. car.” he says quietly and lightly shoves you. you gulp and you nod and get in the car.

“youre too fucking nice you know that? you always say “oh hey im never gonna leave you, blah blah blah” but youre such a goddamn people pleaser!” he continues to yap about how much youre too nice and you need to stop being so nice to other people. and you have NEVER talked back to him because you knew what would happen but you got so sick and tired of his shit.

“TOM SHUT UP! YOU ARE ALWAYS FUCKING LIKE THIS! IM SORRY YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A DICK! MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW TO BE NICE TO PEOPLE THAN BEING SUCH A STRAIGHT UP ASSFACE! YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND I COULD NEVER AND WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU BUT IF YOU KEEP THIS SHIT UP, IM FUCKING GONE!” you say and the silence is so loud.

tom pulls into the parking lot of his penthouse. “when we get inside, you better hide, and hide good because when i find you, i’ll give you the most excruciating punishment i have ever given you. and ill count to 5. 1… 2…” youre eyes widen and you run inside and you go upstairs and you hide in the walk in closet between clothes. you hear the door open. “gotcha” he roughly grabs you and throws you on the bed. “tom wait, im sorry, im sorry, it wont happen again.” you plead, though you secretly loved when he was like this. “you should’ve thought about that before you started talking back. youre such a fucking brat.” he rips off your clothes and he covers your mouth, and whispers in your ear, “im not going to stop until im done, you hear me?” he says almost threatening. you nod fearfully. “good.” he moves away and he spreads your legs and he shoves his middle and ring finger inside you, fucking you with him roughly.

you cant help but moan and you whimper. “fuck!” “it feels so good, doesnt it, pretty girl?” he says and he leans down to suck your clit, causing you to scream loudly. “tom s-stop.” you try to move away but he pins one of your legs down with his free hand. he leans up. “you taste so damn good. gosh i love your pussy, too bad its not gonna cum.” you instantly shake your head. “no babe, i need to cum. please.. please please!” you cry out before he pulls his fingers out of you.

he roughly tosses you on your stomach.

“you are going to take every inch of this cock. i will make you.” he says with gritted teeth.

he lifts your ass up and he spanks it hard, causing you to yelp.

he shoves his thick cock in your pussy from behind and he pounds you. “fucking take it you slut!” he groans, as he slaps your ass cheeks with both hands repeatedly until its super red. “take that you bitch.” he groans in anger and pleasure.

you moan loudly and the bed creaks and creaks. “t-t-om” you manage to get out.

“shut up and take it you bad girl, youre such a bad fucking girl.” he slams his cock inside you over and over, not letting you cum. “you never gonna cum! my bad fucktoy will never cum!” tom ends up cumming inside you. but he doesnt stop. he moans and he pulls your hair. “if you cum without my permission its going to be so much harder for you.” he says through gritted teeth. “st-stop it… i can’t t-ake it.” you weakly say, nearly passing out. “i need to cum.” you whimper. “you can take it… you wanna be my good girl right?” he asks with mock innocence. “mhm” you hum out. “then take it”

he continues to drive you mad and he groans and rubs your pussy. feeling your pussy clamp around him. “you wanna cum now?” he asks spanking you. you nod eagerly. “words babygirl.” you nod “yes, tom please i need it.” he smiles and you cum hard and he cums with you. he pulls out.

“on your knees sweetheart.” he says pushing you to your knees, slapping your lips with the tip of his big thick veiny cock. “suck it good. you can do it” he pushes his cock down your throat and fucks your mouth as he holds your head in place.

he groans and slaps you. “youre so pretty when you suck me. your throat is so tight.” he cums hard down your throat and he pulls back and he helps you up and lays you down, and lays down beside you. “youre such a good little girl.” he pulls you on his chest and strokes your hair. “im sorry i yelled at you.” you say sweetly.

“thats okay sweet girl. im sorry for yelling at you.”

[wolvieswhiskeyclaws]

"Here With Me" ||

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Rating: None

Asked by @photo1030

Ok, I gotcha….what about the first time someone tells Arthur they love him? Could be reader, m or f, or an existing character?

Oh I like this idea a lot and think it’s such a bittersweet feeling for Arthur, I won’t get into the meat of it, but you know how he feels about people calling him ‘a good man’, or just how Mary ended up treating him before she left. This man deserves the world, okay?

*

It had been an age since he heard those words, never had he thought he would actually ever hear them uttered to him, nor did he think he'd ever find the courage to mutter them aloud again to any living soul. He found himself undeserving of any kind words, living the life he had, he knew there'd be a mark upon his soul, and anyone foolish enough to accept him as he was, well they were just that: foolish. 

But there you were, admiring him from afar for so long that it almost felt like a fever dream when you two met. He'd brushed anything off at first, just thinking that whatever the weird spark he felt was just in his head, he always ignored those gut feelings because he felt that they didn't deserve to be had. But slowly, those large thick walls were chiseled away one by one over time. 

When you had decided to tell him how you finally felt, he wasn't sure what to do, he sat there unblinking, staring directly at you. What was he thinking? Why was he just… sitting there? You knew he wasn't one to delve into his feelings so openly, but your admitted confession had meant a lot to you, so your leg bounced up and down due to your nerves. You knew Arthur well enough that if you rushed him or made him feel like he needed to supply an answer right away, it wouldn't work out so well for either of you, but that didn’t stop you from assuming the worst.

As you sat there and allowed Arthur to think your confession through, you sat back and thought of all the ways he'd changed your life and the way you saw things, but most importantly, he always looked out for you, even when he felt that he shouldn't have gotten you involved in his life to begin with. Boldly, you reached across the wooden table that sat in the camp, the smell of fire and booze hung heavily around you, the lingering gang members that were awake were too drunk or tired to pay you two any mind. Your hand was placed on his, you didn't need to exchange words, you felt that he understood how you felt and why, well, you hoped he understood. 

Arthur was good at thinking of others, though he wouldn't care to admit it, always thinking of what was best for you, but never what was best for himself or you both. He was a stubborn man, but it was one of the many reasons you did love him. 

His silence wasn't odd, you preferred that he sat back to think things through rather than immediate dismissal, it meant that he was considering your words more than anyone could realize. But you loved to hear him speak, that gruff voice that you could never get enough of, and he graced you with the sound of it. 

“You uh, you sure you'd wanna love a man like me? You know what that means, don'tcha?” He asked you, his eyes stared at you beneath the brim of his hat. The light from the fire illuminated half of his face and he looked so beautiful, like a painting that was created with love and carefulness with each stroke. 

You just nod in response to his question as you sit across from him, a small smile across your face. “I do, yeah,” you say with a small breath of laughter. “I wouldn't say it carelessly, Arthur. Loving you with all of the ups and downs it comes with is something I'm willing to live with.”

Arthur listened to you once again, his jaw slightly clenched as he held back what he truly wanted to say, which would only be dismissing himself, and you smiled at his ability to bite his tongue. 

You couldn't help but chuckle at how his face contorted with so many emotions at once, and he just looked up at you with a hard stare, but it softened as soon as he locked eyes with you. 

“No matter what I say, you ain't gonna listen to reason, are you?” He asked you, his tone more gentle this time. 

You shook your head. “Nope. I've made up my mind. As grim as it seems, this world doesn't promise us anything, so why not take what time you have and enjoy it? You deserve it, Arthur.” Your grasp on his hand tightened, showing him you weren't going anywhere, he was stuck with you.

The gunslinger swallowed, how mouth suddenly dried as he nodded to your words. “It's… been a while since I heard ‘em, figured I never would again. But… it's nice to hear ‘em, ‘specially comin’ from you.” Arthur offered a smile as he continued to look at you beneath his hat, not wanting to give away just how happy you'd made him. Not yet. 

“I love you, that's all you need to know,” you assured the man, “you don't have to do things alone, you never had to, okay? Let me share your burdens with you, and if you don't wanna say it back yet, that's okay. I ain't going anywhere.” 

Arthur just nodded again, the smile widened, stretching his lips. “‘Course you ain't, wouldn't let you if you tried,” he said with a chuckle that followed. 

For now, those were the only words you needed to hear from him, you knew that with time and patience, that man who was so closed off to the world would allow you a glimpse of his heart.

[avelera]

A Doylist Argument for Why Alice, Daniel's first wife, is NOT Armand in "Interview with the Vampire"

So I know the IWTV fandom has more or less made up its mind about "Armand = Alice" but I have to say, I am still not convinced. In my opinion, the discussion of how Armand knew what Alice was thinking that night was because Armand was spying on Daniel and Alice as a powerful telepath, all things we've known Armand to do, not because he was somehow Daniel's first wife and at no point did Daniel, an investigative reporter, in the present day recognize that Armand was Alice, his first wife who he would presumably have photos of.

Anyway, let's start from a Doylist angle. Doylist means, "from the creator perspective, analyzing from the point of view as the work of art as something created by people outside the universe of the story, ie, Arthur Conan Doyle wrote Sherlock Holmes, not John Watson who wrote the book in-universe."

First of all, it's pretty unusual for a show to outright lie to the audience. There used to be a whole script writing rule about it and if you look closely, it's very unusual in most TV shows for a character to outright lie unless the story is a mystery and unless the fact they're lying is well supported as being something the audience should be on the lookout for. But even when characters lie on tv, there's usually a bazillion neon signposts going, "The guy twirling his mustache and cackling is a liar!" and we're usually introduced to the actual truth at some point within the story.

Ok, all of that aside because I could talk about when and how and where and the nuances of writing liars into stories and why it's best generally avoided (unless it is the entire point, because audiences tend to take what they're told by a character at face value unless they're specifically told not to, etc etc.), IWTV by contrast with most tv shows is notorious for playing with lies and truth with this in very interesting ways.

Truly, I don't think I've ever seen a show lie to the audience as much as IWTV but even then, IWTV lies in very careful ways.

So, let's examine how IWTV depicts lies and subjective truth, and why I think this makes it unlikely that "Alice = Armand", which would be an absolutely gigantic lie to drop on the audience.

We always know that lies are going to be part of the story in IWTV. There's tons of support and scaffolding to the fact that the audience should know that this is a subjective story, that facts will be misrepresented and misremembered.

For example, it was an entire plot point with a long pay off that Lestat shouldn't have been able to communicate telepathically to Louis after he was turned and it was used to highlight that we should not take anything that happens in the flashbacks as objective truth. This has been told to us over and over and over again in this story.

This is so they can avoid the cheated feeling of a, "Gotcha!" Audiences do not like to be lied to but they do like to solve mysteries. If you're going to lie to the audience, you need to give them a chance to solve it. Generally speaking you accomplish this by telling them ahead of time what they should be looking out for and that there's a mystery incoming, you don't just "Rocks fall, everyone dies," dump it on them out of nowhere then laugh that they were too stupid to figure it out. That enrages audiences.

Now, it might seem like I'm contradicting myself here. "Avelera!" You might say, "We have it well established that something fucky is going on with Daniel's memories! A big red flag was raised that Armand has messed with Daniel too in the flashback to the 70s! We know from the books that Daniel and Armand had a relationship and the show is at least teasing that they had one in the show canon too! Isn't that enough to establish that Alice = Armand is a reasonable mystery that is being hinted at within the context of the story?"

And to this I answer, sure, it's reasonable. I think the number of people who are speculating that Alice = Armand is actually a point in favor of it being true, because a good established mystery should have enough hints that people can begin to put it together before it's confirmed.

But here are my personal hang ups about why it still doesn't feel quite right to me.

We have the fact that Daniel has ruined two marriages. This is set up early. Like, super early, in episode 1, before we even see the vampires. We also establish that Daniel's two marriages are with (presumably mortal) women and that he has 2 daughters. This is set up long before the themes and ideas around the subjectiveness and falsehood of memory are introduced. Generally speaking, you don't introduce a mystery before you introduce that there is a mystery. To my eyes, we were meant to see the details of Daniel's marriage and family life as objective truths about him that inform his character before the interview starts.

Even when we do get into Louis' interview, there is a strict dichotomy to the dreamy, subjective world of Louis' story and recollection, and the sharp reality and harsh brutalist lines of the apartment in the present day.

To my eyes, the meaning is clear: All flashbacks are suspect and subjective, but scenes that take place in the modern day are objective. They are really happening. We can speculate about what things like what the decor tells us about their mindsets and the way Armand and Louis present themselves to Daniel mean, but this isn't a dream or a lie or a framing device happening here. Modern day = objectively true.

Daniel talking about his two failed marriages and his daughters is not presented within the framework of the subjective interview flashback world. These are not facts we've been asked to question, these are the objective building blocks that tell us, objectively, where Daniel is coming from and why he's the bitter old man we see instead of the bright eyed interviewer seen in the IWTV film or books.

The very AU premise of IWTV from the books is that we are in a canon divergence world where Daniel was allowed to grow old, have a family, and have a successful professional life even if he never had a successful personal life. It is the way we are objectively meant to understand his point of view and other elements like his saltiness towards the vampires. It's how we're supposed to understand him as different from his book counterpart. I think it would be cheap to then pull a "gotcha!" about those, personally.

Now, there is a mystery introduced as far as Daniel's memory, recollection, and possible falsehoods in his own understanding of his life but those are questions like: "What happened after Daniel interviewed Louis the first time?" Which is part of the broader question of, "Why are we returning to the interview now?" Which also plays a bit into Daniel's broader questions of, "Am I going to survive this interview?" which is connected to the question of, "Why did I survive the first one?"

But those questions are generally raised and addressed within the flashback to the 70s, because flashbacks, as we've established, are (within the story of the IWTV show) where these doubts about objectivity are allowed to exist.

Note, that Daniel's 2 marriages and the existence of his daughters are not discussed in the flashbacks. What is discussed is, "Why did I survive that night in the 70s?" And we learn that Daniel's memories of that time have been tampered with, there's more to the story that it appears, and he had a moment of connection with Armand that he did not recall.

"But Avelera!" You say, "Is this not further proof of Alice being Armand if we establish that Daniel doesn't have the whole story and that he and Armand had a connection that he doesn't fully remember??"

I think it is a point in favor of the theory. I think it's a point in favor of the theory being a valid one to explore, but I'm still not sold because of a few reasons.

Armand has never:

Presented himself with feminine pronouns, never cast himself in a feminine light, never associated himself with the feminine.

Furthermore, Armand has never disguised himself as a woman. Disguise is a theme in the show, Daniel talks about how people put on disguises before he finds the truth of them. But if "Alice" is a way for Armand to disguise himself in Daniel's memory, it is not a disguise that bears any resemblance to the other disguises we've seen Armand wear throughout the show. It is not a theme for Armand, it is not related to his story. Armand is many things to many people, but he's never ever associated himself with the feminine.

Armand would not need to disguise himself as a woman in Daniel's memory for Daniel to plausibly remember having a relationship with Armand, because Daniel recalls having queer experiences in the 70s. If Daniel remembered a relationship with "Andrei", I'd be more inclined to believe he's substituted himself in Daniel's memories with a mortal. Going so far as to say, "Of these 2 women Daniel told us in the objective present that he's been married to, one of them was a man who was also Armand," just seems a bridge too far in tricking the audience for no apparent reason. To me, that feels like a cheap trick on the audience.

Now, what about those weird things Louis and Armand say about Alice when they're shaming Daniel with the memory of her?

Specifically: what about Armand knowing what Alice is thinking the night she turned Daniel down?

This is my biggest point of difference with those who theorize that Alice = Armand. After all, how could Armand know what Alice was thinking that night unless he was Alice?

To put it simply, I think he knows because he was stalking Daniel that night.

I think we are meant to go, "Wait, what??" when we hear that Armand knows what Alice was thinking that night. That conversation is mean to be a red flag when we're invited to notice that Armand and Daniel have more history together than we, or Daniel!, have been led to believe.

But we also know Armand is a powerful telepath. This is a hugetheme throughout the show.

And, personally, I'm big fan of Queen of the Damned the book. It is my personal theory that IWTV the show takes place in a world where Armand and Daniel had their "Devil's Minion" whirlwind romance in the 70s, but instead of Armand turning Daniel as he requested, he wiped Daniel's memories and then let him go.

IMO, Daniel continued life thinking that he'd lost his memories of the 70s due to drug binges, and then from the 80s onward lived a relatively normal life with his two failed marriages to mortal women, his two daughters, and his award winning career. That's the divergence point.

To me, it seems much more plausible based on everything we know about Armand, that after he "freed" Daniel from their relationship and "allowed" him to live a mortal life instead of "cursing" him with vampirism, that Armand continued to stalk Daniel. Because that's what Armand does. Even in the Devil's Minion chapter of QotD, he's constantly stalking Daniel to the point where all Daniel needs to do in a particular city to have Armand swoop in to save him is think about him really hard.

So to me, what I think that line of dialogue was setting up was not "Armand = Alice" it was, "Armand continued to stalk Daniel after their relationship ended and that is the red flag you're supposed to pick up on from this dialogue, not a convoluted masquerade where Armand replaced Daniel's memories of the relationship with a woman named Alice who at first rejected Daniel but then eventually agreed to marry him."

To me, Armand = Alice just seems too convoluted. It also seems too easy to disprove given that Daniel is an investigative reporter. You're telling me he doesn't have any photos with "Alice", his first wife? You're telling me that if Armand was Alice, Daniel's first wife, that he never looked at "Rashid" or Armand and said, "Wow, you remind me of you my first wife?" Because to me, that's the sort of line you drop (in a more subtle manner) if you want people thinking about Alice = Armand but there is nothing along those lines in the show.

Now, what about the line, "You felt safer holding her hand in Paris."?

That one is a bit of a head scratcher. That one I think does lend to the possibility that "Alice" was male, that "Alice" was Armand, because Paris is discussed as more queer friendly (even though we also have scenes of Louis and Armand receiving homophobic comments while in Paris so... idk, "more comfortable" doesn't mean it was truly accepting, much like Louis felt "more comfortable" being a man of color in Paris even if racism was still rampant, but I digress).

But I didn't take it as a comment on Paris being queer-friendly (and therefore Armand = Alice) at the time when I first watched that scene.

I took Louis statement there as much more of an attack on Daniel's hatred of Paris. Paris is the city of love. America is the country where Daniel lives and works and has his identity as a hard-ass American reporter. In Paris, though, he was able to relax and be in love, far away from his work. Daniel has now grown to hate Paris because Paris was the place where he was young and in love with his first wife, a relationship that ended badly.

I felt that Louis was more calling out Daniel's changing attitudes towards Paris, rather than implying that Paris was more queer-friendly so Daniel could be openly with his lover Armand.

TL;DR: Look, I think the theory of Alice = Armand has a lot to recommend it, but I still have my objections to it. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience to say that investigative reporter Daniel Molloy wouldn't recognize Armand as his first wife upon seeing him. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience because the identity of Daniel's wives has never been presented as a mystery to be solved. I think it's much more plausible that they were setting up that Armand has been stalking Daniel very closely over the years, not that he insinuated himself into Daniel's life under false premises as a woman, a disguise and identity he's never used before.

I think Alice is real. I think Armand is a stalker, and that was meant to be our take away from that conversation.

[lunarmoves]

your couch pillows are missing.

you noticed practically immediately after stepping foot into the living room, hair still damp from the shower you'd taken not too long ago. your couch looks so bare without them—a skeleton of the fluffy, comfortable glory it used to be. you find yourself frowning as you walk up to it and place your hands on your hips in suspicion. you're sure they were there before you'd taken your shower.

"hey sun?" you call out, knowing he's somewhere around your apartment doing who-knows-what. tidying, probably. he'll hear you no matter how far away he is. "where are the couch pillows?"

you don't have to wait long to get a response. "what did you say, dearest?" his voice calls back merrily from the kitchen. you hear some shuffling that gets a bit louder, coming from the open archway to your right. one of your eyebrows raises at his words, but you oblige and repeat yourself.

"i said, where are the couch pillows??" you say louder, then look up when a tall figure suddenly steps into your line of sight. you bite your lip to hold back an abrupt, sharp laugh.

"whatever do you mean?" sun asks innocently as he shuffles into the living room. grey sweats long enough to cover his lanky legs and an orange hoodie neatly cover his body. his arms are stuck out slightly at his sides as he waddles closer to you.

you eye his torso—the strange lumps that it consists of that you know had not been there before. "i think you know exactly what i mean."

"we don't," sun responds with all the sweetness of an angel. "care to enlighten us?"

you roll your eyes and take the two steps towards him until you're standing right in front of him. you have to crane your head back to be able to look up at his faceplate, making direct eye contact with pale, white eyes as you reach a hand out to poke at one of the lumps. your finger sinks into it.

sun lets out a gasp and gently swats your finger away. "rude!"

you finally let out that laugh you've been holding back. sun's rays do a delighted little spin around his head at it. "uh huh. say, what's that you've got under your hoodie?"

"i'm afraid i don't know what you're talking about," sun tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as best as he can. he feigns an indignant look. "there isn't anything under my hoodie apart from little ol' me!"

"suuure," you say, unconvinced. after watching him for a careful moment—exaggerating your observation with loud 'hm's and 'huh's, finger tapping at your chin—you eventually hold out your arms widely at your sides. an innocuous look plasters itself across your face. "can i have a hug?"

sun practically leaps in joy, white eyes upturning. "we thought you'd never ask!"

you're immediately scooped up into eager arms, your entire body pressed against the soft plushness of his torso as he swings you around and around. you laugh loudly and hold onto him for dear life, feeling the way his hands and arms have carefully wrapped themselves around your back. you can hear the gentle whirr of his servos and a steady click-click-click that you know is from his rays spinning about. a fuzzy feeling ignites itself in your belly that grows warmly with each passing minute.

you're dizzy and rumpled when he finally sets you down after what feels like hours, and you have just enough awareness in you to reach a sneaky hand under his hoodie to pull one of your missing couch pillows free.

sun immediately squawks and covers himself with his hands. his grin is wide, offended tilt to his voice as he says "why i never! at least take a robot out to dinner first!"

you smirk at him and hold the pillow up as though to say gotcha! "we have dinner together practically every night. admit it, the jig is up!"

sun cocks his head at you, then lets out the most dramatic sigh you've ever heard. one of his hands raises to press the back of it against his forehead. "alas, i am no match for you, my love. but! in my defense— it was moon's idea."

you let out a snort when one of his arms twitches in offense. "somehow i doubt that."

sun chuckles and gives your head a little pat. it makes you grin lopsidedly up at him. "yes, yes, too smart for your own good."

"what spurred this on anyways?" you ask as you toss the pillow in your hold back onto the couch. "feeling silly goofy tonight? hm?"

sun shrugs and reaches under his hoodie to pull the remaining pillows free. he makes haste to organize them properly on your couch—including the one you'd haphazardly tossed atop it. whoops. "i suppose! just wanted to add in some more comfort to our hugs! robots aren't exactly squeezable material, you know."

you pause and find yourself staring at the back of his head, gaze softening at his quiet admission. "aw bud, you're plenty squeezable, don't worry!"

"if you say so!" sun hums and spins around once he's done nitpicking your couch to his metal heart's desire.

"hey! none of that!" you wag a finger at him, and after a moment, spread your arms out wide again, bracing yourself for the incoming onslaught. sun perks up, looking at you with a steadily widening smile. "come on, i'll prove it!"