#props to the person behind the camera for holding this still

[marimayscarlett]

Richard signing autographs in Chorzow, Poland // July 2023 // 📷: rammflamme

[sturnmaee]

Bookworm.

summary: getting caught reading smut while having to spend the night with chris.

warnings: reader x chris, no established relationship, smutty smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly), a little swearing.

requested: yes !!

wordcount: 1,563.

quick little a/n: this took my whole soul to write 😭 i hope it’s okay <33 also to the person who requested this a whole ass month ago i’m so sorry babe 😭😭. and i was half asleep while i proofread this, so im so sorry if theres mistakes xoxooo

i let out a small yawn as i sat around the large wooden table with nick and chris. matt had already said his goodnights and helped packed the cameras away after about an hour and a half of filming content.

"tired already?" nick asked jokingly.

i hummed in response while grabbing my book from the other side of the table. the crisp scent of pages filling my nose as i flicked through them looking for my book mark.

"what a nerd." chris teased while giggling.

"leave her alone," nick said, "we can head up to bed now if you'd like?"

nick and i were close, so of course each night i spent at their house we had sleepovers like little kids again, making dumb jokes and giggling all night.

he shut his laptop and tucked it under his arm as he got up, signaling for me to follow him, in the corner of my eye i watched as chris got up and headed the other direction, down the stairs.

i tiptoed up the stairs following nick, his hands lazily pushing the door open before he sunk down onto his bed, immediately opening his laptop to keep editing. i got straight into reading, i had been dying to finish this chapter, especially because it was one of the more interesting chapters.

about thirty minutes had passed and not a single word was spoken from nick. nothing but frustrated huffs and tossing and turning as he typed away. i shut my book before putting it down onto the silk covers.

"nick i can leave if you'd like, go hang with chris, i'm sure he wouldn't mind?" i quietly said not wanting to ruin his focus.

"really? are you sure, i'm really sorry i'm just so behind in editing." he replied.

"of course," i said while holding my hand onto his, "have a good night." i smiled before walking out of the room quietly, book and phone in hand.

i quietly made my way down both flights of stairs not wanting to wake matt. i stood in front of chris's door, my ear pressed against it, the faint sound of music playing let me know he was still awake. i tapped lightly on the door before opening it and poking my head in. the scent of a coconut candle intertwined with chris's scent filling my nose.

"come in," he said faintly his attention still on his phone before turning his head to see who it was, "oh hey." he said with a smile, patting the spot on the bed next to him inviting me to lay down.

i filled the spot next to him, lying on my stomach before reopening my book. he lied next to me on his back, one hand holding his head up as the other scrolled on his phone.

i looked at my page while trying to contain myself, excited for what was coming. my fingers gripping the cover tighter than before, my teeth lightly biting down on my bottom lip, my legs now squeezed together trying to satisfy the heat growing in between them.

i was so lost in a trance i forgot chris was beside me. he had changed positions and was now facing me, head propped up on one arm, his blue eyes locked onto mine. i felt heat rising in my cheeks before quickly closing my book.

“what?” i asked shyly.

“nothing,” he replied, his voice deeper and raspier than usual, “what’s so good about that book anyways, it’s got you acting like a damn book worm.”

“it’s just interesting, i guess.” i said sheepishly, not mentioning the fact i was reading straight smut with him right next to me.

“let me see.” he said while trying to grab the book. my reflexes instantly pulled it away from him, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“it’s really boring, trust me you won’t like it.” i said bluntly trying to keep my cool. i turned my gaze away from him to play it off, my book sitting in one hand with one finger inserted to keep my place. before i could react he snatched the book from my hand while giggling, opening to the page i had saved.

“chris-!” i whisper yelled not wanting to disturb the rest of the house, my hands flying over to him. he turned away and held the book out of my reach. his eyes frantically scanning the page as the corners of his swollen pink lips turned up. i turned away from him, burying my face into my hands.

“here's your book back.” he said while trying to wave it at me, my face still turned away from him. “you don't have to be embarrassed you know.”

“are you serious chris!” i replied while turning my body to face him, snatching the book from his hands. “that’s so embarrassing.”

“not really,” he said while taking me in with his eyes, “i see why you’re so interested in that book now.” he continued while licking his lips slightly.

i found it hard to keep my gaze locked with his, my core still throbbing, a wetness coating me. his lips parted while his chest rose and fell.

“what do you mean?” i asked innocently, placing the book on the bedside table before propping my head up on one arm to match his position.

his eyes fell from mine, moving to my body, taking me in. his hand placing itself on my side exposed by the short top that hugged my skin, i felt myself shudder beneath his touch as he stroked me lightly. his finger hooked around my waistband, toying with it, asking for permission almost.

"chris," i whispered, "we can't."

"mm, why not." he replied huskily while still playing with the fabric of my sweats.

"nick might hear." i said while slowly moving his hand from my side, keeping it in mine as i watched his eyes.

"c'mon, you have to be at least a little freaky if you're reading shit like that," he teased, "i've wanted you for so long, don't pretend you havent noticed ma." he continued speaking while watching my lips.

i looked down in defeat before moving my face closer to his, closing the gap in between us. my mouth hovered above his as he breathed lightly coating my lips in a hot air.

before i could say anything his hand gripped my face roughly pulling me into him, his lips showing how hungry he was for my own. he broke the kiss only to move to my neck, leaving harsh bites before soothing them with his tongue. i rushed to take my sweats off, tossing them to the floor leaving me in nothing but a short top and black panties.

"turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."

i followed his demands and pressed my face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, i watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt as he causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. his tip red and needy, leaking with precum.

"try and be quiet." he said while rubbing my lower back with his hands. i hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with my entrance, rubbing it up and down my slit, collecting my arousal before placing his tip into me.

"god you're wet."

he let out a quiet grunt before bottoming out, reaching places i could never on my own. i clenched onto the bedsheets trying to contain my whimpers, my knuckles going white.

quiet moans and curses left his mouth as my ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of our skin slapping filling the room.

“oh god chris” i moaned, not being able to stay quiet anymore.

“shh baby, don’t wanna get caught now do we?” he gripped my waist as he spoke, pulling me into him harder.

i could feel my slick dripping down my thighs as he picked his pace up, my eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. we both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.

“mmh, s-so close.” i said pathetically while gripping onto the pillow.

with one quick movement he pulled out and flipped me over, his eyes now locked onto mine as he pushed back in.

“i wanna see your pretty face while you cum.” he breathed out.

his thrust becoming harder as i came closer to the edge, the feeling growing at my core as my nails dug into his back for support.

“oh f-fuck.” i whimpered, feeling the waves of pleasure fill me.

his eyes watching my face twist in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“s-shit.” he stuttered before snapping his hip into me, his warm cum filling me up as he left a soft kiss on my lips.

both out of breath while he pulled out of my softly, fixing my underwear and his pants.

“why don’t i clean you up?” he said quietly while looking over at the bathroom door.

i nodded in response while kissing him softly, his fingers running through my hair.

[boba-beom]

ೃ⁀➷ be good | CHOI SOOBIN NSFW

pairing: idol!soobin x f!reader

genre: fluff, smut | long ass one shot

summary: while you’re both abroad, soobin missed talking to moas but you also missed having some alone time with him. this night is the only night he’s had the room to yourselves, so you decide to play around with him while he goes live. and he lets you.

disclaimer: this only fiction and does not represent this idol in any way.

a/n: happy belated soobin day ♥ it was about time letting this out of the dungeon lol also the date for the weverse live is 2022.07.28. I hope you enjoy it with some references to the live itself hehe. thank you to my angel @junniieesbby for beta reading <3

wc: 3.1 k

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

warning(s): messy oral (m!receiving), face fucking, slight hair pulling, soobin cums multiple times, cum swallowing, use of affectionate terms (baby, princess, good girl, good boy), A LOT of praising, making out, perv!soobin, panty stealing soobs, penetration, soobin's biggggg, slight overstim, momentary cockwarming, whiny soobin:(((, unprotected sex (wrap it up and stay safe!!), boob sucking, soobin’s a lil messy but still so sweet.

"Hello MOAs! How are you guys?" Soobin's voice vibrates against your chest. You're laying on his legs under the duvet while he props his phone on the bedside, showing from his chest up. It was a spontaneous decision for him to go live at a different angle, but it only came to your advantage.

Watching Soobin read out comments from his beloved fans was so endearing to you, you knew how much of a hard-working leader your boyfriend has been for the past three years, but it was just as endearing knowing that he's the same endearing person in front and behind the screen.

What MOAs didn't know was that you were in the perfect position to lightly skim your hands over his thighs and occasionally over his crotch. It certainly did not go unnoticed by Soobin.

"'Who's your roommate tonight? Is it Beomgyu?'" He reads out a comment in which he replies with an airy chuckle, partially from the way your fingertips were caressing his semi-hard dick through his mesh shorts. "Ah, no, we all have our own rooms tonight. I think the members are asleep now, though."

You had to admit, you wanted to applaud Soobin for his voice not faltering while your fingers were wandering around his lower body. Yet, you wonder just how far you could go until he'd beg for a time out. He looks at you for a split second through his black frames, feeling it slightly slip down his nose bridge until he pushes it back up, laying his arm straight in front of him so he could cup your cheek — his way of allowing you to do whatever you want — out of frame from the camera.

His caresses were warm, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek until you raise your head up to capture his thumb in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digit and then released it to place a single kiss on his clothed crotch. You could feel he'd definitely gotten harder from your last touch. Soobin, on the other hand, found his breathing picking up after feeling the warmth of your wet mouth on the pad of his thumb, hoping you'd use your mouth on his cock in the next few minutes.

You tug on the band of his shorts, and as if on cue, he picks up his phone so it was closer to his face. As he continues to read and answer comments and questions regarding their trip in America so far, he removes his frames and sets it on the bedside table. He was holding his phone just above your head, his eyes subtly flickering towards your face every now and then to see what you would do next.

For a moment, you let him answer the next few questions but you were growing impatient. Finally hooking your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and underwear, he hisses out of satisfaction, releasing his pretty, hard cock from the restraints ; watching precum leak from his blushed tip.

He was big. Bigger in both length and girth. The biggest you've seen, and ever since your first time together you had devoted yourself to him, and promised to look after and please him the best you could.

"'Is there a ghost in your room?'" He reads out. You chuckle from the thought that his fans were either messing around with him, or sensing that he wasn't alone.

You took this as your opportunity to start working on him, what could be better than you and his fans teasing him at completely different ends of the spectrum? You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling his thighs tensing under your arms.

"Mmm..." Soobin hums. He could feel a moan about to escape but he managed to save himself from doing so, "BOO!" He pulls the phone closer to his face, thinking he was able to surprise those watching him, but his wavering chuckles didn't go unnoticed.

You slowly place wet kisses along his shaft, trailing up to his tip until the hint of saltiness overtook your tastebuds, tapping the head of his cock on your tongue a few times before lightly suckling on it. If your boyfriend's breathing wasn't fast enough before, then it's definitely picked up now. The urge to roll his eyes back was strong, but he remembered to keep reading new comments to distract him from doing so.

"'Soobin is sexy just by breathing.'" He reads out another comment then carefully observes the way you stretch your lips, taking more of his thick cock in your mouth. The sight was so filthy but it felt so heavenly to him. "Thank you." He chuckles at the comment.

After lightly sucking and licking his tip for a few more minutes, and Soobin talking to MOAs, you decide to take more of him in your mouth, inching the tip closer to the back of your throat, but careful enough to not gag. Soobin places his free hand on the top of your head, his fingers lacing through the loose strands but curling in to form a stable grip in your hair. His other hand still holding the phone close to his face and he positions his phone so only his nose up was in frame. Loosely holding your head up to face him, he didn't have to wait for you to nod and agree to use your mouth for his pleasure, but you were also excited to please him for your own satisfaction.

He began pushing your head lower each time, feeling how wet and slippery your mouth was around his cock, your saliva was starting to drip from your bottom lip and down along his length, just the way he likes it. Your tongue traces the prominent vein under his shaft and you felt your panties dampening by the second. Soobin didn't always use you like this, but when he did, you just knew you were going to be fucked good the second the live ends.

You look up at him, holding eye contact while his mouth is slightly agape from the overwhelming pleasure, and he looks so pretty with his bangs beginning to stick to his forehead, partially covering his eyes.

He shuffles slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position for the both of you. Using the hand holding the phone to stabilise his balance on the bed, the camera was flat against the sheets, blacking out the viewers' screens. While his fans were questioning the blacked out screen in the chat, you took this opportunity to remove the duvet over your back, throwing it aside with half of it hanging off of the bed.

"I'm close," Soobin silently mouths at you, his eyes hazy and drunk off the feeling of the perfect suction and pace you were going at. You smile up at him when his tip occasionally slipping past your lips and he swore he could have came then and there.

You pick up the speed at which you were going at, using your hands to jerk the part of his shaft that your mouth couldn't take, determined to stimulate him as much as you can. Your sweet boyfriend let out a soft gasp but played it off as if he was just sighing, but even with that, it could have sounded a little off if anyone listened closely.

Releasing his tip with a quiet pop, you were controlling the sound of your breathing, trying to catch your breath without the phone mic picking it up. You smile at the sight of his head thrown back, quickly tapping his thigh and nodding your head in the direction of his phone, reminding him that he just left the live with a blank screen.

Thankfully he adjusted the camera close to his face again, hoping the fans hadn't heard anything and allowed him to adjust properly. "'Where did you go?' 'What was with the rustling?'" He read a few more comments flying up his screen, and you picked up where you left him with his tip occasionally reuniting with the back of your throat.

A gentle sigh slipped out of Soobin's lips when you swallowed around the head of his cock, momentarily squeezing his tip before lightly humming around him. The sound was almost like an incentive for you to keep going, but instead you were left with your eyes widening, afraid that you might get caught at any given second.

"Huh? Hah-" His breath was airy and ragged in the most discreet way possible. You sped up making it difficult for him to formulate his sentence, stuttering out a couple of strangled chuckles, "Oh! My legs— my legs are sweaty so I had to remove the duvet." He sighs in between words all while his cute bunny smile was plastered on his face.

You were shuffling your legs to press your thighs together from the sound of his sighs, hoping he could be more vocal once he's done with the livestream. But you had to remind yourself that you were currently prioritising Soobin's pleasure and you can always receive yours later.

His hand tuggs on your hair again, pulling your head upward just as you were about to bob your head towards his public bone. You inaudibly wince from the brief pain, mouth left open with your tongue hanging out of your mouth with a trail of saliva attached from your tongue to his glistening tip.

Soobin was meant to be answering a question, but he was distracted from the lewd sight just a few inches in front of him. Another smile crept up your lips as you gathered your spit and stuck your tongue out again just for your saliva to slide off your tongue and dribble down the head and his pink-ish shaft. You can't help but ogle at it yourself, he has such a pretty cock you could never have enough of it. His eyes follows yours and his eyelids drops a little, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back for the nth time that evening.

His dick starts twitching more in the palm of your hand, indicating he was nearing his orgasm at any given moment. "Uh guys, I'm gonna have to end the live now. My phone is at three percent so I need to charge it. Sleep well MOAs!" His breath wavered at the last second. You had never seen him end his lives so quickly before, but it was just the excitement building up.

He places his phone down beside him, lifting the hem of his white shirt a little higher up his torso and pulling his shorts and underwear past his ankles to place them aside. Not bothering to charge the device, he rushes to place each hand on either side on the crown of your head.

His cock inches in a little more each time, reaching into your mouth until the head bumps the back of your throat repeatedly, filling the room with the sound of the gargling. He raises his hips as he controls your head to move until the tip of your nose made contact with his pubic bone.

"Oh baby," he groans, throwing his head back. "God, you're doing so good for me. You almost made me moan on live." He let out a sheepish chuckle, followed by a strangled moan which had the sound shooting straight to the pulse intensifying between your thighs.

The recurring twitches manages to send your sweet boyfriend over the edge, his hand stilling your head as he lets out the prettiest sounds to exist. His moans were laced with curses and a string of your name in between. You watch his torso lift off the bed, curving inwards to look at the way you took in his load.

"That's it, princess. Swallow it all for me, yeah?" The moment your eyes met, the corner of his lips lifts into a smirk. He loved the way you look; your dishevelled hair, your eyes and lips glistening, a sheer coat of his cum leaking from the corner of your lips. Soobin missed seeing you in such a state, and it's only just clicked to him that you haven't done this for a while.

"Baby?" You ask him. "I can't believe you let me do that to you while you were live." You both chuckle, realising how pervy that sounded. To Soobin, however, it sounded like another idea.

He replies with a hum, watching you use your fingers to pick up the spilled cum from the corner of your lips and darting your tongue out to swallow the remaining.

"Would you let me ride you," you crawl higher up the bed, situating your legs on either side of his hips until your clothed core starts grinding over his bare, still-hard cock. "While you're on live?"

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, smelling his fresh scent mixed with his aftershave that you undeniably loved. His arms wraps around your waist, his hands finding purchase on your ass cheeks to squeeze them ; loving the feeling of your ass in his large palms, his thumbs massaging circles before giving your flesh another good squeeze.

"I think you're onto something." He smiles, picking up his phone, which was now charging, and opening the Weverse app to notify MOAs that he'll be able to go back on live shortly.

A soft whine left your lips, lingering by his ear. Pulling back, he leans in to peck your lips a few times until your one hand held his shoulder to steady the kiss and the other wrapping around the side of his neck.

As much as you loved kissing Soobin, moments like these would be engraved in your mind. His plush bottom lip trapped between your teeth, plumping them from your harsh kisses. He tastes like chocolate chips from the Chips Ahoy cookie he ate before the live.

Irregular breaths filled the once quiet room, only heightening his hearing and noticing the way you were softly moaning against his lips. It turned him on for the most part, to the point his dick was throbbing beneath you again. You wouldn't have known until he pushed your ass down and he lifted his hips to meet your throbbing core.

Both of you exchange moans, like harmonies exclusive to the both of you. He could feel your damp panties against his shaft, but the thin barrier was beginning to agitate him.

"Baby, panties off." He litters butterfly kisses along your jaw, and then let you pull your panties down your legs in a slow, seductive manner. You were going to throw them somewhere over the bed, but felt the smallest bit of resistance from his fingers looping through and scrunching it up into his fist to stuff it into the pocket of his discarded shorts. "I'm gonna have to take this, sorry."

Soobin was definitely going to be using that in the near future. When he gets a little turned on for no reason before a performance, he'd need to jack off in the restroom just for his hard-on to disappear, he'd use your panties to help him; sniffing them, or even wrapping it around his shaft imagining that you were dry humping him—his guilty pleasure.

"Put it in," you sigh. You were ready to feel him inside you again, after not having sex for what felt like months because of practice prior the trip abroad, and now his schedule has been packed full of interviews. "Slowly."

You were hovering your core above his hips, pushing your weight on his shoulders to use him to balance yourself. He held the base of his dick, aligning it to your leaking cunt and sliding it up to your clit. Even that small action made your knees weak, your balance faltering to the point your knuckles were turning white on his shoulders.

Soobin's other hand held onto your waist, prodding his blushed tip at your entrance. You felt the pressure of his hand pushing you down, easing himself inside you until your hips were flush against each other.

"I missed this. My baby's been so patient." He growls against your chest in attempt to hold in his moans, but his one hand found its way to your breast, massaging it through your top. He lifts it up, bunching it up under your neck until your chest was on full display just for him.

"Go on baby, show me how much you've missed me." You run your fingers through his hair all while he flicks his tongue at your nipple, moving onto the other in an alternate pattern.

With you working yourself on his shaft, he encapsulates one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on it with his teeth grazing your hardened nipple every now and again. You let out wanton moans, throwing your head back from the sensation. It was hard to concentrate on the pattern of your hips once you felt his fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You clench onto his cock, feeling yourself heavily throbbing while he's inside you. Soobin releases your boob from his mouth to let out his whines he could no longer hold in.

"Keep moving like that, I want to fill you up with my cum." He whimpers, throwing his head back with his eyes tightly shut. You moan in response, just thinking about him filling you up was enough to push you closer to your high.

After thrusting your hips onto him a few more times, his hands find their way on your hips, holding you down as he curls in, watching his abdomen flex.

"Cum in me baby, be a good boy for me." You coo at him while you kiss his neck. You could feel his shaft pulse inside you until he was moaning in your ear, indicating his release. Spurts of his cum fills you up until it was leaking down your shaking thighs and onto the sheets beneath the both of you.

"Shit, Soob. My legs—"

"It's okay angel, I got you." His voice was a little hoarse, weak from his beautiful moans a second ago.

You continued to slowly ride out both your highs, all while the palm of his hand was caressing your leg, in attempt to ease the shakiness of it.

"You're still pulsing. You want another round?" He smirks at you, eyes hidden under his damp bangs.

You shake your head, "not yet, just stay inside me while you go back on live."

"You're so bad." He chuckles at your proposition, picking up his phone and checking if he looks alright before going back on live.

He loads up Weverse for the second time, holding his phone closer to his face so the frame stopped just by his shoulders. You lean back so your shadow can't be seen, accidentally clenching around his still-hard dick, but Soobin bit the inside of his cheeks to suppress a whine.

"Hi MOAs, I wanted to talk to you still. I'm charging my phone so I can still talk to you guys." He explains to his fans, trying so hard not to buck his hips up into yours.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (here's my taglist, lmk if you want to be added to it and please specify!)

© BOBA-BEOM ; do not repost, alter, translate, or claim as yours on here or any other platform.

[sinnadone]

[Image description: a fifteen-panel digital Supernatural fan-comic, which begins with the last ever shot of the show, of Sam and Dean Winchester gazing wistfully over a river while leaning on the railing of a bridge with the Impala in the background, as the camera floats up and away from them. The four panels depicting this recede into darkness, which continues for a bit, until it is interrupted by the sound effect of a snap and dissolves to show the brothers waking up on the floor of a motel room, Sam with a headache and Dean with a startled “What the-”. The full, panel-by-panel description is under the read-more.]

Happy anniversary! here’s how gabriel can still win

[Image description, panels 1-4: the last ever shots of the show, receding into darkness until it is interrupted with a snap.

Panels 5-6: the darkness fades away to show Dean bolting awake with a cut-off yell of “What the-”. He is on the wooden floor of a motel room with a dark green-and-brown interior. Sam is on the same floor, in the background to Dean’s left, propped up on one elbow and touching his forehead with a wince. “Hell...?”, continues Dean, quieter, as his hand hovers over where the rusty rebar should be sticking out of his chest, finding nothing of the sort. In the meanwhile, Sam notices that the skin on his hand looks as young as the day Dean last died.

Panel 7: the brothers turn to each other in silent disbelief.

Panel 8: a voice from off-screen draws their attention to the upper left: “A terrifying little nightmare, wasn’t it?” They face the direction, Sam with shock and Dean with a raised eyebrow.

Panel 9: the camera turns 180% degrees to reveal Gabriel, casually laid out on top of the motel room’s desk, looking down at them with a smirk. His torso’s propped up with an elbow, both legs slightly bent, one parallel and one perpendicular to the desk’s surface. The hand of the arm doing the propping up is hanging off the edge of the desk and holding a can on whipped cream, while the other hand is leaning on his raised knee. On the wall behind Gabriel is a large framed painting of many golden wings. He continues, “This is where the fuck you’d be without Cas, blah blah blah...” . The panel stretches down to include the space under the desk, a bit of the floor and the Winchesters’ legs up to the knees.

Panels 10-11: a close-up on Gabriel as he snaps his fingers and a strawberry pops into existence right over his thumb and index. He sprays a dollop of whipped cream onto it, closing one eye in concentration.

Panels 12-13: the camera moves behind Gabriel, looking over the Winchester brothers staring up at him. Leaning the hand holding the berry back onto his knee, he exclaims: “So saddle up, boys!”. The background goes out of focus as he throws the strawberry into his mouth with a flick of his wrist.

Within a half-circle-shaped panel #14, the dome of it intersected by radiating lines, he savours the taste, smiling with his eyes closed.

The camera zooms in on his face, lit up from below by bright flames he is suddenly surrounded by, eyes glowing gold. Looking down and somewhat at the viewer, he says: “We’re going to Super Hell.” End of the main description, only background details and appearances after this point.

The comic is styled to look as if drawn on dark brown craft paper. It is fully colored but completely unshaded, except for the last drawing of Gabriel surrounded by fire, which features fully rendered lighting and flames. The motel room has dark green walls and dark wooden floor and furniture; on the side of the room closest to Sam is a one-person bed, and on the side closest to Dean is a two-person. All three men are white and vaguely in their thirties-to-forties, and all three are wearing jeans in various shades of blue. Sam has dark shoulder-length hair parted in the middle and wears a dark jacket over a red plaid button-up, Dean has dark blond hair in an Ivy League-type cut and an army-green jacket over a dark T-shirt, and Gabriel has blond combed-back waves and a purple short-sleeved shirt with the top two buttons undone. End of description]

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

[i-turned-into-the-stone]

Bad Manager - Huening Bahiyyih KEP1ER

Rape, Pure Horny Degenerate Male Reader, Clothed Sex, Hair Pulling, Face Slapping, Submission, Piss, Messy Facefuck, Creampie

KEP1ER Bahiyyih

3,075 Words

Being a personal manager for the KEP1ER members is exciting, but it's also draining. Not physically, however. You're young and full of energy, so running around all day is a piece of cake.

What you mean by "exhausting" is trying to keep your shit together while being surrounded by nine smoking-hot idols.

These ladies are drop-dead gorgeous, and they get you all riled up every time they perform or even during practice.

Today's no different. They're about to rock the stage at the Asia Artist Awards, and you gotta give props to the stylist who made them look so irresistible.

Especially the youngest one, flaunting her soft midriff and smooth shoulders like a seductive siren.

All you wanna do is grab Yeseo and fuck her senseless right then and there. But your last shred of decency holds you back as you focus on handling their needs.

A few minutes before showtime, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You plop down on the toilet, whip out your phone, and watch their performance on the screen.

Your cock's throbbing in your jeans, begging for some action.

You're on the verge of losing it, and when the camera zooms in on Yeseo, swaying her hips and shaking that fine ass, your leftover self-control shatters into a million pieces.

"Oh God, I wanna fuck you so bad, Kang Yeseo. That petite body... it's begging to be bred," you mutter, fishing out your cock and giving it a firm stroke.

KEP1ER's five-minute performance feels like a blur. You crave more of Yeseo, watching her move her body in that gray shiny top that barely covers a thing.

With a sigh, you lock your phone, letting go of your cock and taking a deep breath. But calmness is a distant dream. This level of horniness is downright torturous.

Realizing the girls probably need your assistance now that they're done being on stage, you force your stiff cock back inside your jeans and step out of the toilet stall.

As you make your way back to the waiting room area, you spot Bahiyyih strolling down the hallway towards you, still in that short performance dress.

She seems a bit lost, wearing a worried expression until her eyes meet yours. "Oh, oppa!" she calls out, a smile lighting up her face as she hurries over. "Thank goodness. I can't find the bathroom. Do you..."

Her voice fades into the background as your gaze fixates on her collarbone and that creamy skin of hers.

She's never looked this sexy before. Well, this girl will do. It's the only chance you've got, and you're not picky at this point. You just want to fuck any of them.

"Oppa?" she calls out, her voice tinged with hesitation as she instinctively covers her bare chest with one hand.

Snapping back to reality, you meet her eyes. "Hm? Oh yeah, sure. Follow me, Hiyyih-ah."

You walk side by side, leading her in the direction you just came from. But instead of heading straight, you take a left turn towards another restroom that's out of commission, tucked away from prying eyes.

"Oh? I guess I can't use this one then," she says upon noticing the sign, but continues to follow your lead and stops in front of the restroom. She hisses and squirms a little while glancing at you. "Oppa, is there another restroom? Ahh!"

You grab her dark brown hair and shove her inside the partially open door, quickly locking it behind you. As Bahiyyih falls to her knees, struggling to regain her footing in that fitting dress, you unbuckle your belt.

Once the idol manages to stand upright, you yank her hair again and press her against the wall, pushing her face against it and pressing your body against hers.

Despite her attempts to resist by pushing the wall with both hands, your weight keeps her pinned. "Stop! No! What are you doing?! What's wrong with you!? Let me go!"

You place your forearm on the back of her neck. "Shh! Stay quiet, okay, Hiyyih-ah? I'll make this quick..." Your other hand unzips and lowers your jeans.

Your jeans and boxers slide down to your knees, your rock-hard cock bursts out. Her dress, not exactly thick, allows her to feel the presence of your cock pressing on her ass, sending a wave of panic through her.

"Stop! Oppa, please... What the hell is that? What are you doing?"

You yank her head back by her hair, giving her earlobe a teasing lick that makes her let out a groan. "That is my cock. Don't act like you don't know what it is. I'm pretty sure those wrinkly sponsors have already had their way with your pussy."

The degrading words spew from your mouth, causing the held-back tears in her eyes to stream down her cheeks. "No! Stop it! I'm— Just stop, please. I won't say a word."

You pull her head even further back, so you can get a good look at her pretty face stained with tears.

"Quit crying like a little bitch. I'll let you go once I've fucked you good and proper, like a whore. Either way, you won't be blabbing to anyone. You won't dare.”

You reach for the hem of her dress and yank it up, fully expecting her reaction. You cover her mouth from behind, muffling her scream as her hands desperately try to keep her dress in place.

But it's too late, your hand has already slipped between her legs.

“I saw how you were performing earlier. I had no idea you're kinda thick. Let me have a taste of that juicy pussy too," you say, spreading one of her legs apart.

Bahiyyih shakes her head in your grasp, thrashing with all her strength. But it's no use. You squeeze her soft thigh, burying your nose in the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

Take a deep sniff, matching the vigor of your hand sliding between her legs.

She can't do anything but stay still, her body jerking with harsh sobs. You take advantage of the moment and slide your cock right between her ass cheeks, the tip rubbing against her pussy.

"Hmm! Mmph..." The violated idol cries even harder. Her hands claw desperately at the wall, trying to find some way out.

"Yah, calm down, Hiyyih-ah. You'll get used to this eventually."

You give her pussy a smack, ripping a hole on whatever safety shorts she's wearing right around her private area. Her voice gets louder, wetting your hand with a mix of saliva and a bit of snot.

Bahiyyih can resist all she wants, but you couldn't care less as you start fucking her soft, warm thighs from behind, taking it slow and teasing her slit with two fingers, while your thumb flicks her clit.

The new sensation weakens her knees, unintentionally squeezing your cock between her thighs even tighter as her ass lowers on top of your shaft.

"Oh shit. You're into this now, huh? Such a slut," you whisper into her ear, increasing the pace of your thrusts, “Imagine what it would feel like if this was my thick cock.”

Using the same fingers that were teasing her entrance, you slip them inside, causing her eyes to widen in shock. You push deeper into her wetness.

When about half of your fingers are already buried inside her, Bahiyyih grabs your hand as if trying to pull them out in a hurry. But you oppose her attempts and plunge your two whole fingers in.

You can sense her walls clenching around your fingers. She gasps, her back arching in response. Increasing the intensity, you thrust with a fervor that matches the rapid rhythm of her breath.

Her muffled scream gradually transforms into a whimper.

Curling your fingers upwards, you focus on stimulating her sensitive front wall, targeting that sweet spot. Her muscles tense, her grip on your hand tightening.

The wetness dropping on your hand increases with each passing moment, a clear sign that her body is betraying her.

"Come for me, like the slut you truly are. You know you want to, Hiyyih-ah, otherwise you wouldn't be moaning like this, right?"

You release your hand from her mouth, and indeed, she bites her bottom lip to stifle any sounds from escaping.

As much as you want to simply fuck her and be done with it, the idea of sexually breaking her mind also holds a certain temptation.

You thrust your fingers into her slick pussy, the sound of your palm smacking against her skin reverberating through the room. Fingers in and out, the wetness sloshing with each motion.

Bahiyyih's legs drop even lower, unable to contain her moans any longer. "Ooh... Ahh! O-oppa, s-stop! Ah! Ah! Hmm! I'm..."

Her words trail off, but you know exactly what she's trying to say. You wiggle your fingers deep within her, exploring her inner walls.

She leans back against you, her legs quivering, and her moans become strained as she digs her nails into your forearm. Her orgasm crashes over her, causing her whole body to shake uncontrollably.

As the tremors subside, a warm liquid washes over your hand, even dampening your still-pressed cock between her thighs. Bahiyyih pants, her head resting on your shoulder.

"See? This toilet is still functional. You managed to pee so much," you taunt, pulling your fingers from her dripping pussy and raising them in front of her face.

"You like that, huh? Pissing yourself turns you on, doesn't it? We're in this together now, Hiyyih-ah," you taunt her, relishing in the way it challenges her morals.

"N-No, I'm not... Haa... I hate this..." Her words come out in gasps as she struggles to regain her balance.

Without any warning, you thrust your urine-soaked fingers into her mouth. Her eyes squeeze shut as you push deeper, ensuring she can't bite down on your hand.

"Eeugh... Blergh—" She gags and manages to remove your hand before coughing, the taste of her own piss lingering in her mouth.

"How about that? Proof that you enjoy this just as much as I do. It tastes good, doesn't it?"

"No! Let me go! You've lost your mind... I'll tell everyone what you—"

Her futile threat is cut short as you yank her hair, eliciting a yelp of pain. You turn her body around and down to her knees. Gripping her hair, you repeatedly slap her face with your erect member.

"Tell everyone what? That I'm slapping your face with my cock? Well, why don't you also tell them how you suck my dick like a pro slut, huh? While you're at it," you sneer.

You yank her hair back and forth, causing her to wince in pain as she tries to shield her face from your cock and free herself from your grip.

Watching her helpless state, relishing in the power you have over her trembling form. Fear pulses through her veins, fueling the twisted excitement that courses through your veins.

Without a shred of mercy, you force your cock into her mouth, disregarding her pleas and protests as you immediately start pumping deeper.

Your cock chokes Bahiyyih, her body convulsing with each merciless jab. The taste of her tears mixes with the salty, musky flavor of your cock, which is infused with the tang of her earlier urine.

The mounting pleasure drives you onward. The strong pressure of your penetrations stretches her jaws, causing her body to twist, retching as your cockhead breaches her throat.

You hold both sides of her face, keeping it in place as you pound into her throat.

Her tongue remains trapped beneath, rubbing the underside, adding to the intense sensations that drive you closer to the peak.

Her makeup smears down her face, mixing with the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes roll back, silently pleading for you to give her a moment to breathe.

Despite her nails scratching at your thighs, the pleasure you're experiencing overrides any discomfort.

Bahiyyih's mind teeters on the edge of surrender, her mouth drooling excessively. Her chest and stomach cave in, desperate for a breath of air.

"Shit, shit, shit! Oh, fuck! Your mouth feels so damn good, Hiyyih-ah. It's not just for singing, huh?" you remark, your hips continuing to rock back and forth.

She gags even harder, trying to stretch her jaws wide to find some relief from the continuous harsh motion while enduring your balls repeatedly smack against her chin, causing her saliva to splatter everywhere.

As you feel your climax approaching, you abruptly withdraw from her mouth. Her stomach heaves, and she collapses to the floor, coughing up a wad of spit and gasping for air.

"Now you can breathe all you want, you whiny bitch. Get up!" you command, your cock still throbbing and on the brink of explosion. You grab Bahiyyih's hair and pull her up.

Bahiyyih is too exhausted to speak, only able to shake her head. Irritated by her stubbornness, you rapidly slap her face, turning it red until she stands as straight as she can.

She winces in pain, tightly closing her eyes as she endures the slaps. Her trembling hands are powerless to shield her face.

You cease the slapping and wrap your fingers around her neck, while your other hand slips under her knees, lifting one of her legs.

"You better clench that pussy real tight, Hiyyih-ah. I'm going to fuck you hard. At the very least, you deserve that," you announce.

Bahiyyih cries, her body jerking without any will to fight back. She hesitantly places her hands on your shoulders, gripping them tightly as if holding onto the last sliver of hope she has remaining.

You squat down, aligning your hard cock with her pussy, a smirk plastered on your face. Since your hands are occupied holding her, you give the weeping idol a command, “Go ahead. Put it in."

You lock eyes with her before glancing down at her glistening, bald pussy. Bahiyyih follows your gaze, finally getting a good look at the thick meat that damn near choked her.

Now, that repulsive thing is about to be inside her again, and she's gotta do it herself. The only consolation she can think of is that she won't suffer like she did before, as long as your cock is in her pussy.

With that in mind, Bahiyyih slowly grabs hold of your cock, lining it up with her wet folds and after taking a deep breath, she slides your cock into her pussy.

The moment the swollen knob slips in, a blissful hiss escapes your lips as you push forward, invading her slick, velvety canal. She doesn't let go, as if she's in control of how you fuck her.

Bahiyyih can feel the wide stretch inside her as your cock buries itself deeper. Her head instinctively knocks against the wall, her mouth gaping open, and a low huff escaping her lips.

It's a whole new sensation compared to when you fingered her. This time, the slow feeling of being filled starts to consume her. No need for you to force your entire cock inside when she willingly thrusts her hips forward.

Leaning back a bit, you take a look down, letting out a chuckle at the sight of her pussy lips tightly gripping the base of your cock. Her one leg planted on the floor is tiptoeing while the toes of the raised leg are curling.

"You really are a fucking slut, aren't you?" you remark as you pull out.

"Ahh!" she moans, completely oblivious to your comment, her entire focus locked on the growing pleasure pulsating within her heated core. One hand aimlessly scratches the wall beside her head.

Completely convinced that she won't put up a fight anymore, you release her neck and hold her slender waist, fucking Bahiyyih with fierce intensity, reclaiming the orgasm that you cut short earlier.

Her pussy clings to your cock, tight and gripping, as her natural juices flow abundantly, making the slide in and out of her moistness a breeze.

Leaning forward, you shoot your hips upward, splashing and sloshing inside her drenched warmth, your balls smacking against her flushed cunt with a satisfying thud.

Your grunts grow louder with each hard thrust, matching her erratic moans. She becomes increasingly vocal, her back arching involuntarily, her body sinking lower as her legs weaken over time.

"Oh fuck! Your pussy... Haa! I'm really gonna cum this time... Shit!"

In the nick of time, you scoop up her other leg, lowering her body as you lean forward, battering the idol's swollen pussy without holding back as if your very existence depended on it.

Knowing that you might face the consequences later, you go all out, giving it everything you've got in an uninhibited, wild frenzy, taking full advantage of the moment.

You pull Bahiyyih close, pressing your cock deep inside her, not caring about anything else as the tip hits something inside her. The room is filled with the scent of sex as you release fresh white semen, coating her insides.

Bahiyyih feels a tickling within her womb. Her body spasms, and she lets out strained groans, her arms awkwardly reaching out for nonexistent support against the wall.

One leg stiffens while the other moves as if walking on air, her toes curling in pure ecstasy.

As the pleasure subsides, you slowly withdraw your cock with a wet "plop," removing your hands from her legs. She slides down the wall and collapses onto the floor.

Her legs twitch, still spread wide, as your cum oozes out of her well-used pussy and trickles down to her asshole.

"Stay spread like that, Hiyyih-ah. It suits you so much more," you degrade her, scoffing as you pull up your boxers and jeans, which had bunched up around your ankles.

Gradually regaining her senses, Bahiyyih closes her legs and collapses sideways, her messy face covered as she sobs, her arms shielding her from the world.

You check your phone and see numerous texts from the other managers and members. You quickly reply, making an excuse about having a stomach ache.

Glancing at Bahiyyih's pitiful state, you give one last command, "Get yourself cleaned up. The others are looking for you. Good thing I didn't ruin your fancy clothes, or you'd have to walk out naked."

Despite putting on a tough front, fear starts to creep in as the adrenaline wears off. But one thing is certain—you have no regrets.

[fairyofjaeyun]

c b g ➳ hotel room ꕤ

[1:36] now playing: hotel - montell fish

[warning] femdaddy kink, light feminization (gyu wearing fishnets), filming, spanking, degrading, doll pet name, begging, rimming, fingering (male receiving), pegging, bulge kink, fake cum, breeding kink (male receiving), use of they/them pronouns for reader (once), pwp

2nd person // 1.7K words

requested 💟

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in the hotel room, beomgyu was propped up onto his elbows and knees, his ass facing the large ring light and camera. his tan skin was smooth; waxed to perfection. his spread, pink fishnet-cladded legs showed off his puckering brown hole, along with his wet tip that peeked below his balls.

you hit record and walk towards him, the bed dipping as you sit beside him. you lightly run your nails along his cheeks, experimentally, and beomgyu whimpers, his body shivering form your light scratching. “look at you, already so sensitive.” you giggle, making him pout. “I know, sweetie. don’t worry, daddy will take care of you.”

beomgyu peers at you over his shoulder, his lips still pouting. “daddy’s gonna fill me up with their cum, right?” he teases you by backing up towards you and wiggling his ass, only to jerk and yelp when his cheek is struck with your hand.

you chuckle, rubbing his irritated skin, “of course, my doll. and you’re gonna be a good slut and take what daddy gives you, right?”

he nods, his waved hair bouncing ever so slightly.

“right?” you repeat, squeezing his ass tight and letting your nails dig into his skin.

beomgyu cries out and hisses, letting his arms collapse beneath him, “yes, daddy! I can take it.”

you bend down and give him a kiss on the peak of his shoulder, your lip color printing on his skin. “there you go,” you say and go back to the lower half of his body. his back now deeply arched, practically presenting his ass to you.

you let your hands wander around his cheeks, groping and squeezing at every little flab of flesh you could find. beomgyu leaned into your touch, his body beginning to shiver as your hands traveled lower towards his poor dick that was so hard and contained by the pretty pink tights. he whines loudly when he feels your fingers run down his balls all to the way to his tip, his dick twitching and precum dripping beneath him.

“please, daddy, please…” he whines oh so softly, shifting his body as more precum comes out of his slit. he looks over his shoulder once he hears your laugh, watching your hands reattach themselves to his ass. then, while facing the camera, you bring your head next to him and slowly lick his ass cheek.

beomgyu gasps because it feels unexpectedly good, despite it just being you teasing him. your other hand is still squeezing him, your nails occasionally pressing into him. then suddenly your finger begins prodding at his hole through the fishnets, causing him to moan and bite his lip.

“such a needy little thing,” you start, almost in a trance as you watch his hole flutter beneath your finger, “so desperate to be filled.” gently, you start adding pressure, the tip of your finger slowly entering him. the raw stretch oddly making his stomach flare up.

without a second thought, you rip open his tights, now giving yourself full access to his hole. beomgyu couldn’t try to hold back his excitement as he moans and dips his head back down between his shoulders. “oh, you like that?” you turn towards him, “such a slutty little doll.” you spank him and he jerks, another lewd noise escaping his lips.

you move behind him, in between his legs, positioning yourself for the camera in front of the bed while gazing into the second one propped up beside the bed. you give a quick peck to his upper thigh, leaving another faint lipstick stain before licking his asshole. you could feel him melt from your tongue as he lets out a drawn “oh,” his hole puckering from the attention.

“yes, daddy! your tongue feels so good,” beomgyu groans as you lick him again, trying desperately not to wrap his hand around his cock. he was trying so hard to be good so you could fuck him how he wanted you to.

you continue to eat him out while running your hands up and down his legs. his skin feels so hot. you licked and fucked his hole with your tongue until he started squirming and loudly pleading to you, “please, daddy! I need you inside of me, please! I’ve been good, I’ve been good!”

you pull away from him with a smack of your lips and see the sheen of spit that now coating and dripping down his hole. he was more than ready now. “alright, baby. daddy will stretch you out now.”

you grab the lube that was on the corner of the bed as beomgyu repeated endless lines of “thank you”s. you flip open the cap and pour a generous amount on his asshole, which clenches from the cool temperature of the liquid, then coat your fingers with the same amount. you start with two fingers, letting them gradually be swallowed by his walls before pumping them in and out at a decent pace.

beomgyu is nothing but loud as you prep him and add a third finger that slides inside him with ease. “fuck, please,” he whimpers when you hit his prostate, feeling his orgasm building up as his whole body flushes.

you remove your fingers immediately, “no, you’re not cumming yet.” he whines in protest but doesn’t dare to open his mouth knowing that you were going to fuck him.

he had to look back and see you put on your strap. you attached the new dildo, just as he hoped. the big, veiny one (about 9 inches in length and over 2 inches in girth) that could squirt fake cum inside of him and will probably leave him sore for days. he clenches his asshole in excitement as he waits anxiously for it to be inside of him, and as soon as it’s secured around your hips, he takes both of his hands and spreads himself open for you.

“good doll, so eager to take daddy’s dick,” you said, admired by beomgyu’s slutty behavior. you line the head of the dildo to his hole, playfully rubbing it around his rim to get a desperate noise out of him.

“tell me how much you want it,” you ordered him, locking your fingers into his long hair. beomgyu whimpers from your nails scratching him and your fingering tugging on his scalp. he starts stammering, failed words turning into hushed gasps as you leaned your strap closer to his entrance; his mind corrupted with thoughts of you fucking him.

“I-I need it so bad, daddy. I wanna feel it stretching my tight little hole and my little tummy until they’re filled up with cum and it’s leaking out of me. please!” beomgyu ends his pleads with an empty sob as you finally push the tip inside of him. a smirk tugs your lips as you enter him in a painfully slow pace.

“that’s it,” you mutter as you watch him bottom out with ease, your core heating up at the fact that you’d be able to replay his hole stretching around you whenever you edit the video, however many times as you please.

he moans loudly when he feels the fake balls near his rim, instinctively arching back for more of you even though it was impossible for you to push even further. then he cries out, “oh!” his hand flies towards his belly, “I-I feel…” his brains practically melts to mush as he feels the bulge of his belly, whatever words he wanted to spit on completely evaporated from his consciousness.

“aww, you feel it stretching your tummy, baby? you feeling okay?” you check up on him, peering over his shoulder to look at his face. from what you could see beneath his long locks, he was already pretty fucked out—lips swollen, eyelids heavy, hair messy. you move a section of hair away from his eye and he looks at you with begging eyes.

“I’m okay. please keep going.”

and so you started thrusting into him. you start at slow but rough pace, letting him get used to the new length but not teasing him any longer. beomgyu didn’t hold back with his lewd noises, as always, giving you a wonderful variety of moans, groans, and whimpers as you picked up the pace.

“you’re such a good boy, gyu,” you said between your own moans, unable to resist them when the base of dildo rubs against your clit. you spank him hard, and he nearly screams as you both feel your skin sting and bloom an irritated red.

“o-only for you, d-daddy,” he slurs, eyes rolling back as his body heats up and his cock bobs between his legs, “c-can I…?”

“go ahead, doll,” you tell him as you grab his hips roughly, “cum for daddy.” and you quickly squeeze the balls of the dildo and faux cum shoots inside beomgyu alongside his own cum that spurts out of his cock onto the bed and the inside of his thighs with a pretty sob coming from his wet lips.

after letting him calm down from his orgasm you grab the camera beside the bed and hold it over his ass to capture you taking your strap out of him with your other hand spreading him open. fake cum instantly drips out of his ruined hole as you empty him, leaving him gaping and clenching around nothing as he whines.

“good boy,” you nearly whisper, then shut the camera off and crawl next to beomgyu. his eyes were shut and his breathes were long and deep in and out of his nose as he started to drift off. you attempted to fix his fluffy hair, but some strands stubbornly fell back into their unassigned part.

you then hear beomgyu mumble something beneath his breath, his volume and his pouting making you unable to comprehend it. “I’m sorry?”

“hold me,” he said gently. he was moments away from falling asleep.

“of course,” you whispered—how could you say no? you scooted next to him so you lay down, then lifted him into your arms, resting his head onto your chest. he moaned softly when he got comfortable and let his body rest against you, falling asleep almost immediately after you started rubbing his back with your fingers.

you yourself weren’t tired, but it didn’t matter. you just smiled to yourself at the thought of watching yourself trace figures on his soft back from the other camera.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

@donghoonie-3 @femdomlieeh @sugar-petals @k-femdove @bookobsessedfreak @hello-stranger24 @lynanist @sobiood @yahaballa @imagine-this-motherfucker @enhypensunoostan @d7dream @toiletfeet68 @naevis-we-love-you @noeyelles15 @venicefukingbitch @mafareshi @l1ttlem00n1e @reallysparklychaos @call-me-nev @applesooyoung

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

Chapter 2 [IKYLHT]

~2.9k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter

-

Wrapping the last of the bandage around your bicep, you take the water bottle from where it’s propped on the hood of the car and attempt to rinse off the dried blood that’s beginning to bind itself to your skin. You haven’t checked, but your hand definitely feels dislocated, and until Soap’s got the opportunity to set it back into place, you’re resigned to not touching it. Your leaning spot between the two headlights doesn’t provide much light for seeing the gunshot wound, but it does allow you to somewhat comfortably watch Soap push Hassan to the ground. 

“Y'all got a clear picture?”

“Crystal.”

“All set.”

“Alright, we are live folks.” Clapping his hands together as he looks around, Graves calls out. 

“Up here, Gun.”

He doesn’t get a response, and you watch as his eyes skin over your barely visible silhouette.

“Rabbit!”

Pushing yourself off the grill and taking a few steps forward, you remain out of the field of the headlights, still much more noticeable now. 

He spares you a glance and a nod before turning back to Hassan.

You move to stand between Soap and Alejandro, watching his smirk fall as he fails to provoke Graves.

“I have no doubt you’d take pleasure in torturing me.”

Graves laughs, face tight in decently concealed frustration as he glances over to you.

“Oh I’d enjoy it. Not as much as she would, though.”

Your gaze snaps to Graves, his eyes sparkling with a sort of mirth you’re not entirely fond of at the moment. 

You have just enough time to remove your grip on your bicep with a poorly concealed grimace, folding your hand behind your back and hoping Hassan wouldn’t notice the few fingers a little less straight then they’d left as. 

He doesn’t get the chance, moving to turn his head in your direction but stopped by Soap’s firm tone.

“Who’d you get the American missiles from?”

The yapping of the coyotes threatens to put a smile on your face, but your gut still churns at Graves’ earlier statement.

What the fuck was that?

It was just a scare tactic. It had to be. He was trying to get under Hassan’s skin- piss him off with the prospect of being bested, and by an American woman, no less. Nothing more, nothing less. Right?

You can’t help but feel it was personal, though. Something about the tone in which he said it, the way his eyes raked over your face as you concealed your shock.

What if it was a dig at me, though? Was he making a statement or looking for confirmation? Had my reaction been the answer he needed?

You spend longer than you realize contemplating the meaning behind his words, attention only directed when Shepherd’s voice blares over the small speaker.

“I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass.”

“General, killing Hassan is an act of war, keeping him is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold.”

“Tell me you’re getting something actionable, Laswell.”

“Working on it. Stand by.”

You don’t miss the way Graves glances towards you once more before rounding on Hassan again.

“I’ll ask one last time. Where are the missiles headed?”

Hassan scoffs, turning his head towards the camera and avoiding Graves’ glare entirely.

“Fine then. Go ahead, Rabbit.”

Darting your eyes to his, you glance at the soldiers around you before laughing nervously.

“Uh… come again, sir?”

“This is your specialty, Rabbit. We need answers. You know how to get them.”

Your eyes scan the faces around you a second time. Soap looks about as confused as you imagine you do, Ghost’s expression completely obscured by the mask.

“I can’t interrogate him here, Graves. That’d be a war crime, I could be court-martialed for that.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before, has it, Victoria?”

You don’t realize you’re lunging until you feel Soap’s hands on your shoulders, holding you back and blocking your view of Graves.

“How the fuck-”

“Am I wrong, Rabbit? All I’m asking is that you do what comes naturally and beat the answers out of this prick-”

“That’s enough, Graves.” Laswell’s voice filters through the speaker.

You barely notice Soap’s quiet words trying to calm you down, too busy watching Graves move towards the screen and attempt to speak to Shepherd directly.

“Actual, let me finish this.”

“There is nothing I would like more. But Laswell’s right. Without proof we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us.”

“He’s right here. You can’t be serious.” Still in Soap’s grasp, you shake your head at his words with a frown, murmuring a quiet “We can’t, Johnny.”

“I’m afraid I am, son.”

You detach yourself from Soap’s grasp and move to guard Hassan across from Ghost, grabbing the scratchy cloth and waiting for the go-ahead to shove him back into the jeep.

The cuffed man turns, locking eyes with you before smugly smiling.

“Smart girl.”

You break the eye contact with a growl.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The bag is over his head before you’re given the order, Alejandro pulling him up as Ghost slips the phone back into Hassan’s pocket.

Huffing out, you make your way back to the screen.

“Couldn’t have spoken up a little sooner, Laswell?” 

You cut off her response, slamming the laptop closed with a scoff.

Beside you, the masked man looks at you, simply observing. It doesn’t ease your nerves. 

-

Eyes closed, you take a deep breath out, screwing your eyes shut as Soap pops two of your carpal bones back in place.

“I know, Bun, I’m sorry. Hand’s done. Fingers won’t hurt so bad.”

Letting out a chuckle, you focus on the way his hands hold yours before he bends a finger, yanking it quickly and apologizing quietly. 

Once he’s done, he rubs a soothing hand over your back and taps his boot against yours. It’s rare you get a moment to breathe when out on the field, so you savor the light kiss he presses to the crown of your head once everyone’s back has turned.

“Alright. Up and at ‘em, Bunny. We’ll be sure to ice it once we’re back at base.”

Patting the small of your back, he prompts you to climb the ladder first, trailing closely behind and watching to make sure he could catch you if you fell. It’s never happened before, but that fact won’t stop this little routine anytime soon.

When you reach the top, Ghost extends a hand that you accept appreciatively, and Soap rests his on the bottom of your thigh to steady you. 

You appreciated the cool breeze of the rooftop overlooking the humid city, or at least you did, until Ghost’s words have your hands going clammy.

“What was that with Graves and Laswell?”

“I’m sorry?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes narrowing.

“Come on, Ghost. We both know Hassan was right. I have orders to interrogate enemy POWs, which he most definitely wasn’t. I can’t get around that, even when I want to.”

His glare remains as you watch him digest your words. You can’t entirely tell if he’s satisfied with your answer.

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Your brows furrow as your temper slowly worsens.

“What were you asking then?”

His eyes glance towards Soap who stands at the edge of the roof, offering his hand and helping the rest of the team up.

“You’ve worked with Graves before, Victoria?”

“That’s not my fucking name.”

You watch his eyes, the way they shift into something you can’t quite read.

“Laswell?”

Face dropping, you push down your desire to scoff in Ghost’s face. Your words are clipped.

“Am I the one being fucking interrogated now?”

Done with the conversation, you walk to the edge of the roof opposite the ladder. It’s only a few moments before the group joins together as one to discuss capturing El Sin Nombre.

Your mood is still sour, but you take the team’s banter as a chance to get level headed again.

“I’m just saying… one house shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We need Sin Nombre alive.”

“Well… then we need to meet him.”

“How?”

“Give ‘em what they want. Intel. They wanna know who’s here. Let’s tell ‘em.”

“In person?”

“Correcto. Get one of us inside, find the boss, roll him up.”

Rejoining the group, you lower the binoculars and finally speak up.

“I’ll go. I know Spanish, I can listen in on background chatter. Specialized in interrogation, might be able to gather some intel while I’m being questioned. It’s perfect.”

Alejandro’s face morphs into one of slight shock for only a moment before he nods firmly.

“Alright. Rabbit, when you go in-”

“No.”

You turn with an incredulous grimace.

“Excuse me?”

“Negative, Gun. You’re not going.”

Your brain lags in its attempt to force your mouth to move, half paralyzed in shock.

“That makes no goddamn sense, Ghost. I meet all the criteria-”

“Which is exactly why you’re not going. That’s an order, Gun.”

Eyes narrowing, you audibly scoff.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Fine. Have fun trying to keep the mask on in there, Fantasma.”

Arms crossed, you turn your cheek with a sneer.

“I’ll do it.”

Snapping your head to face Johnny, your breath hitches and knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You go in there and they’ll kill you, hermano.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Your body finally catches up to your brain and you protest with your voice raised.

“No you will not! John!”

He clamps a hand over your shoulder.

“Bunny. We came here to stop a missile, let’s stop it. I’ll offer intel for a meet with Sin Nombre. And if he’s there, we pounce. End of story.” 

“Johnny-“

He gives you a look that snaps your jaw shut without your brain's permission.

It bothers you, how easily you give into his glare despite the fact that he’s in no place to be giving you orders. He knows you’ll give in, because it’s Johnny, and you trust his judgment wholeheartedly. Still, it doesn’t do anything to quell the sudden palpitations of your heart and the flashes of anxious heat suddenly overtaking your body.

“Orale- Tienes huevos, cabron. You make it in, you’ll need eyes and ears. I’ll go too.”

“I’ll take overwatch. Shadow circles the target in a helo.”

“Roger that. They are going to want proof. Show ‘em this. Call me when you need me.” He gives Soap a fist bump and a pat to the shoulder. “Alright, let’s gear up and get after it.” 

Walking towards the ladder, you watch Graves slide down. Ghost stands ahead of you and offers a gloved hand that you ignore completely, turning your cheek to the man with a frown. He takes the hint and slides down after Graves. 

It isn’t until Johnny outstretches an arm for you to take that you nod your head for him to go first, gripping Alejandro’s arm. 

You feel your hands shake.

You’re unsure of how everything seemed to go to shit so quickly. You feel your control over the situation quickly slipping from your fingertips, and you use every bit of your military training to keep yourself in check.

“Colonel Vargas.”

He turns and looks to the arm you’re white-knuckling.

“I heard you saved Rodolfo from a house fire.”

“Correct.” He glances down again, this time in confusion.

“I like him. He’s a good man, Sergeant Major Parra.”

“He is.” He tries to gently pull his arm away but your grip only tightens. You look at him with a desperation he’s only seen a handful of times in his life. Your voice is low, he barely picks it up over the steady wind.

“Sergeant MacTavish is a good man. Sacrificial to no end, much like Rudy.”

“I-”

“You pulled your friend out of a burning building. I expect you to do the same for mine.”

He nods with a furrowed brow.

“We’re working as a team. He has the same protection as any of my men.”

He shifts to continue walking but you grip his arm all the same.

“It’s going to have to extend a little beyond that.”

He inhales to reply but you’re quick to speak first.

“I’m trusting you on this, you understand me? He’s killed under your orders? Rudy rogará por una muerte tan placentera como ser quemado vivo.”

Only briefly diverting your attention, Graves yells into the air. 

“C’mon, let’s go! This is no time for chit chat, people.” 

Loosening the grip on his arm, you pat his bicep with your free hand and force a smile. This time, your voice rings out steadily.

“We clear?”

“I understand, Rabbit.”

“Good. I’ll be on standby in case you need backup at any point. Just say the word.”

Releasing his arm, his hand subconsciously goes to rub at the area now feeling of pins and needles. He watches as Soap and Rudy converse, the former animatedly waving his hands as he speaks.

“You’ve been to Las Almas before?”

“No. Spent years in Mexico, though. Requested my transfer after that.”

You let a beat of silence ring out, following his gaze and locking your eyes onto the pair. You feel the corners of your mouth tilting into a small smile. 

He notices, eyes shifting to your shaking hands and the way they slowly settle.

He wonders if your priorities are more aligned with his than you realize.

The tension in his face finally falling away, he nods at you with warm eyes and a genuine grin.

“You have my word, Coneja.”

Letting a small smile wash over your face, you nod once more before making your way down the ladder.

Please, if anyone’s listening, let them come back safe. He really does have a beautiful smile. I’d hate to have to break it.

Hopping off the bottom step, you make your way to the jeep, sliding over Soap and into the middle seat.

“Took ya’ll long enough. Let’s go.” Graves complains as you allow Soap to buckle you in.

You don’t have the heart to be mad at him, not when this is completely uncharted territory he’s volunteered himself for. It doesn’t help that you were more than ready to offer yourself up for the role, either. You could argue about it later, though.

Grasping his wrist as he lets go of the now-secured buckle, you pointedly ignore Ghost’s eyes following your hand from the seat next to you. 

Settling further into your seat, you let yourself soften against Johnny’s form. He looks to you, holding your nervous stare with one of determination. Giving you a small nod, he brushes his thumb over the skin of your wrist with the gentleness he’s become accustomed to showing you.

With a small smile, he knocks his boot into yours, twice.

-

Pretty as she is, Valeria is not a woman in your good graces. Of course, being El Sin Nombre is a solid part of the reason why, but even more than that, she needs to be guarded. Being guarded means high amounts of military personnel, and high amounts of military personnel means you don’t have a minute alone with Johnny.

The steady pumping adrenaline from capturing Valeria and destroying the oil rig, along with the heavy onset of mixed emotions directed towards Soap’s reckless actions has you wanting to jump his bones. It doesn’t help that the Las Almas base is facing a shortage of size large shirts, Johnny forced to squeeze twenty five pounds of lean muscle into a medium cotton tee, now sticking to his toned chest under the tac vest.

Your gaze is redirected from his strong arms over to Alejandro’s half-smile. For such a reserved, patient man, he sure loved filling the silence with conversation. 

“So, Coneja, when were you gonna tell the rest of us you speak Spanish?” He shouts over the rain and crashing waves.

You watch as Ghost turns his head in your peripherals, choosing to briefly glare in his direction before answering.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t said anything embarrassing.”

You mentally pray he doesn’t bring up the rooftop conversation you’d had after the rest of the group departed, but you see the way his head tilts and know something is going to be mentioned. 

Might as well beat him to it.

You turn to him again, going to speak before he holds his hand up with a smile.

“Don’t apologize. Like you said, we both have amantes imprudentes. Have to stick together, yes?"

He averts his gaze from Soap back to you, and you feel your cheeks warm in the slightest. 

“Yes.” 

You’re not entirely sure what he’d let you off easy for- threatening two superior officers, concealing your linguistic capabilities, or the way he’d caught your blush at Valeria’s condescension- we just won’t mention that one. 

“You two did well today, Coneja.”

There’s a glint in his eye you can’t immediately identify, soaking in his gorgeous smile and the way his silky hair reflects the light as he tilts his head.

Yeah, definitely glad he kept his word.

“Rodolfo and I are going to celebrate. Something small, drinks and dinner at the little restaurant near base. You and Soap are more than welcome to join.”

“Yeah?” You mumble with a small smile, glancing at Rudy from across the small raft. He’s watching you intently, no doubt gauging your reaction. 

He smiles- it’s sheepish and hardly noticeable yet still so boyishly charming. 

A light brush of his hand against your knee and you’re brought back to Alejandro. 

“Yeah. What do you say, Coneja?”

Smiling and bumping your shoulder with his, you let your gaze drift back to Johnny. Feeling your stare, he turns to you with his own soft smile and taps his boot against yours. 

“We’d love to.”

-

<3

[thespineoftherighteous]

more show bloopers

they're (the monsters' actors) are doing a car scene and Neil and Aaron's actors together decide to turn on the seat heater of Kevin's actor, all the way up, just to get him to say "bloody hell my arse is on fire"

then it becomes like a running gag, especially between the twins' actors, to unsuspectingly turn on each other's seat warmers uncomfortably high

Neil's actor accidentally confuses the twins:

Neil, speaking to Aaron's actor: look Andrew-

Aaron's actor: *gently and seamlessly turns Neil's actor by the shoulders to face Andrew*

Neil's actor: look Andrew-

Andrew's actor: hi!

not a blooper but Dan's actress is tiny, the smallest person in the cast, (the twins' actors are 5'7-- it's the best thing that could've ever happened to them) which has no significance except for the fact that this girl can and will fall asleep ANYWHERE and the cast has loads of evidence of her knocked in every possible location on set

a scene on the bus where Andrew's actor is walking towards the very back, where Andrew sits, except some of the prop luggage/exy equipment is sticking out into the aisle of the bus and he trips over it face-first and just. disappears completely from the frame. one second he and the camera are moving in sync and the next he's just. gone. flat on the floor.

(Aaron's actor almost pisses himself laughing)

they're shooting a deleted scene of Renee and Andrew sparring together and at one point Andrew's actor just cracks up and Renee's actress is like ?? and he goes "your sound effects." and explains to her how every time she throws a punch she makes like a "whoosh" or "pow" noise and she goes "!!! i didn't even realize??"

on set of the locker room and Kevin's actor is sat in Kevin's stall being spontaneously serenaded by Matt's actor

that scene in tfc where the monsters take Neil shopping and Nicky is talking to him as he pulls out clothes for Neil to try on. except every so often Nicky's actor pulls out the most ludicrous article of clothing and offers it to Neil's actor with a straight face. at one point he holds a lime green mesh bralette that was also a turtleneck and had stirrups (??) up as if to see if it'd fit Neil and Neil's actor just loses it. while he's clutching a clothes rack trying to catch his breath and the people behind the camera are trying to train their hysterics, Nicky's actor turns to the camera, still holding the bralette and goes "where the hell did y'all even find this? i don't think even Nicky could pull this off" *eyes Kevin's actor* "buuuut if anyone could surely it-"

Neil's actor climbing off the top bunk bed except he misses a step and tumbles gracelessly to the ground

Allison's actress nails Aaron's actor right in the face with her ponytail in a scene where they're getting ready for a game and psyching themselves up. he wasn't even going to let it ruin the take but six seconds later she stops and turns and goes "did i just hit you?" and he's like "yep" and she grins and goes "so sorry babe"

Renee's actress is having trouble with a line and by the fifth time they have to restart she's cussing up a storm and Matt's actor pretends to be shocked and goes "Natalie Renee Walker. you're better than that" and she turns to look at the camera and goes "he just learned my full name this morning. if you can't tell"

the scene where Neil puts Andrew's hand under his shirt but Coach's actor pulls a look-into-the-camera- like-hes-on-the-office with a "y'all seeing this shit?" expression so they have to start over

see also about that scene: they're in the middle of a take and Andrew's actor randomly and without changing his Andrew-expression goes "are you flexing your abs right now?" and Neil's actor goes "sorry I'm nervous..you can feel that?" and he goes "yeah" and there's a beat of silence of presumably Neil's actor just flexing his abs. Andrew's actor goes "that's impressive. hot" Neil's actor goes "thanks man"

they're shooting a scene in the lounge and Allison's actress is in the middle of a line when she notices a real picture of the boys being idiots on the set photo wall and starts giggling and goes "sorry sorry i had never seen that one..caught me off guard. okay let's go again.."

it's not even supposed to be a blooper but they didn't know they were rolling so there's a blooper of Neil's actor telling Aaron's actor "you're 5 and I'm 10. I'm twice the man you'll ever be. bitch"

the scene where Kevin shows up with the queen on his face except Andrew's actor thought they were still rehearsing so when he appears in the doorway to the bedroom after hearing Kevin and Neil making noise it's with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders the way he had been doing throughout rehearsals

(they ended up keeping that in the scene. Andrew first appears wrapped up in his blanket, all tired and shit. he realizes what's going on and starts to become more alert and as he walks towards Kevin to inspect his face, he lets the blanket fall to the ground. it's grand and dramatic and all, but so is Andrew)

a whole bunch of clips stitched together of when they filmed the Foxes working out in the gym. in the show it's a brief montage but there's loads of unseen content of the cast just fooling around- dancing to music on the speakers and flexing ridiculously and exaggeratedly lifting weights and shit

the scene in the car where Andrew elbows Neil hard in the ribs but in this blooper Aaron's actor joins in and it becomes both twins just pretending to beat Neil's actor up

(Kevin's and Nicky's actors in the front seats are just staring ahead, driving like nothing's happening and shaking their heads going "kids")

Dan's actress keeps laughing during a scene where Dan and Matt kiss and during one take where she's trying to calm herself down by putting her forehead on his shoulder you can hear Allison's actress in the background go "i can do it instead if you want" and Matt's actor smirks at the camera over Dan's head and Allison's actress goes "bitch not you I meant me kiss her"

just. one scene where Neil barges into a room (as he does) but the actor underestimates the set so when he throws the door open it quickly rebounds to smack him, full-body..as the door slowly swings back open you can see him crumpled on the floor in the doorway clutching his elbow

Andrew and Neil's actors are about to do a scene and suddenly you hear a loud "pucker up boyssss" in the background. it's from Allison's actress (who didn't even need to be on set that day) and Neil's actor glances over at her, grins and goes "what are you even doing here. get out. leave" and she just sits in his production chair and settles in to watch

if you look closely you can find a stray exy ball here and there in places where they shouldn't be. that's because most of the cast (but especially Matt, Kevin and Renee's actors) like to nick exy balls from the set of the court and toss them around in between takes..and apparently leave them all over the place

not a blooper but. the cast went through a lot of intimacy training before they started filming (for both like aggressive and soft intimacy) and they're all naturally very close as well, so whenever they shoot a scene where one of them has to pretend to hurt another (physically/emotionally/etc) they always make sure to check in with them in between takes and once they've finished to make sure they're okay

they're shooting on set of the lounge a scene that's supposed to be right before afternoon practice and at one point Coach's actor tells Aaron to get the cart of racquets (i forgot what it's called in the books) and so Aaron's actor gets up and moves out of frame while Coach's actor keeps talking. and all of a sudden there's this earth shattering crash that makes everyone flinch HARD. and then you hear Aaron's actor (who literally was only supposed to take the cart and roll it across the room in the background of the shot) say "i am SO sorry" in the most horrified whisper

Coach's actor eating shit while walking off the bus

Kevin's and Andrew's actors need to do a bit in a scene where they turn their heads at the same time to look very intensely at each other (as per Kandrew) and they simply cannot do it without cracking up it's terrible

Andrew and Neil's actors are on the rooftop and they're supposed to be staring at each other, all intense. but then there's this huge, awkward, horrifying sound from somewhere below and at first it looks like they'll be able to stay professional and just ignore it. but then Neil's actor bows his head to his shoulder and puts his fist to his mouth to try to contain himself and they have to restart ("sorry sorry. but just...did something just..die?")

Kevin and Neil's actors have to get all up in each other's faces but then, practically nose to nose, Neil's actor goes "i don't remember my line" "mhm" "you have lovely eyes" "thanks mate" "we should start over" "let's." ..THEN they back down

Dan's actress pointing her exy stick at the camera "hi I'm Captain Dan Wilds and YOU [wink] are watching Disney channel" *does very shitty drawing of the Disney logo*

Coach's actor forgets which of the Foxes he's supposed to be addressing so he just says "you little shits" and it ends up sticking throughout the whole series because it's so in character

they have to restart the scene where all the Foxes first meet so many times that by the twentieth time Seth's actor goes "I'm fucking concerned-" Nicky's actor jumps in with "yeah sweetie we know"

and cut

[heartlesscorpse]

You Will Always Be Mine. ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

As I mentioned in some other post w/ my Ghostface hcs— here’s the mini fic w/ prosthetics from Slipknot as inspiration :)) I also used some other stuff from Slipknot like Vermilion and Iowa just to get the whole set in my head and it was fucking difficult at first for me to figure out the opening for this drkgenrgkjdgjnskdverlb my mind went places so fast I was internally giggling like some maniac while writing this 💀💀 Please forgive me this looks like shit even though I edited it over :”)) Before I forget I’ve also got the mini fic posted on my Ao3 which you can read here.

Danny’s eyes fluttered closed, his nose nestled in your hair as he deeply inhaled the scent of your shampoo that always clung to you. Exhaling sharply as his head reeled slowly from your personal space with a quiet groan of satisfaction escaping him. His arms tighten around your unconscious form cradled in his hold, his footsteps carrying confidence as he silently strides through the darkened halls of your home. He finally caved in after a handful of months, watching you from afar whenever he wasn’t busy tormenting some other poor Roseville resident on those nights. Hell, it felt like torture; you being so blissfully unaware of his presence as you’re going about your day-to-day routines. 

Fuck, everything about you just made it so difficult to do his work properly.

Danny never thought, a potential victim of his, would take root inside his mind and fester like an open wound. He adored and loved everything about you. The color of your eyes, your smell, the way you dress, your voice, the sound of your laughter, and that gorgeous smile of yours. Everything.  He can’t even find the words to describe how much he loved you, he was obsessed with you. He had some of your missing belongings, a shit ton of photos of you, anything of yours. Enough stuff to build a shrine completely dedicated to you, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted you, he needed to keep you all to himself. As he propped open the back door with his boot and stepped outside into the crisp cool night air with your body still tucked close to him, the neighborhood was fairly silent other than the faint barks from a dog on some other street as he made it over to his car and carefully set you down lying in the car seat at the back before moving around to climb into the driver’s seat. 

Car key in, ignition started, and he was slowly pulling out from the sidewalks with a grin marring his features behind the mask. Feeling a little giddy from his accomplishments, Danny couldn’t help but softly chuckle to himself. He finally had you, and he planned on keeping you with him forever.  You were his little mouse after all.  He can’t stand the thought of another being so close to you, it always left a sickening pit in his stomach and made his blood boil seeing strangers talk to you. But what’s adding another victim to his body count? He’s just doing his job in protecting you. 

You don’t need anybody else, just him. 

And now, Danny’s home was going to be your home too! Of course, he took into consideration that you were going to be upset or mad at him for this, and he’d have to tie you down to prevent you from leaving his place. He can’t have you escaping him after all that hard work he pulled off. But in time, he hoped you’d grow to accept your new life with him. Danny could feel his heart palpitating from the overwhelming amount of excitement when he pulled into the garage of his place, turning the engine off and moving around back to carefully pluck you out from the car and carry you on inside. Basking in the familiarity of his home to the few newspaper clippings lying around and placing his trusty camera on the counter as he made his way to his bedroom and gently laid you down, cuffing one of your wrists to the bedpost to restrain you from leaving when you wake up soon. 

Danny loomed over your still unconscious form, his head slowly tilted to the side as he pulled his mask aside with a smile slowly curling on his lips, admiring the peaceful expression written on your features. Oh, how completely oblivious you are right now. He leaned down, pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, turning away to leave you in his room to sleep off the effects of the drug. “Sleep tight, dollface.” Danny mused with a whisper, quietly pulling the door shut behind him. 

He had you in his grasp now, and he'll never let you go. You’re rightfully his, his everything. Nobody else gets to have you now. 

You solely belong to him.

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

[madaboutmunson]

Once Eddie returns, helps his friends save the world, he graduates and focuses on his dream, playing The Garden.

Corroded Coffin do indeed play MSG and then some, they become the biggest band on the planet, and they are raking it in.

They are making so much money the record company is throwing anything they want their way, anything they could dream of, and each member of the band takes advantage of that fact, making sure to avoid extreme excess, on the sage advice of other rockstars they meet on their way up, making sure to invest, and that their families are set for life.

But there are indulgences, fast cars, fancy hotels, big palatial homes, being surrounded by the most beautiful and talented, epic custom made gaming tables (because lets face it, they are still nerds) but Eddie shies away from a lot of that, he has this own indulgence. Theatrics.

The lights of the stage show had to be the latest technology, lasers, pyros so big and loud that had every concert comes with a warning on the posters, a mascot of this weird looking bat snake thing that Eddie had drawn up, and then the props.

Parts of the stage that "fell apart" making the crowds gasp in horror as a band member takes a hit, only to emerge completely unscathed. Harnesses so he could play flying through the air. A giant cannon to straddle and duck walk along over the crowd. Flame throwers that send a heat wave across the stadiums they play. His personal favourite was the deconstructable guitar.

Specially designed to be able to break apart and to be put back together for the next night, it was made for the heaviest song corroded Coffin had written to date. It was only ever used for that one song and with the magic of effects pedals and the nature of the song, it didn't have to sound particularly great.

At the culmination of this song an already shirtless Eddie would swing the guitar around, smash it on the floor behind him and then onto the floor in front of him, booting the now heavily dented body into the ground so he could rip the neck out of it, holding it aloft, strings snapping off, popping the blood capsules in his mouth, and letting them flow out of his mouth and down his chin and throat, with a huge grin on his face, before blowing a kiss into the crowd.

It seems like just another theatrical bit from Eddie Munson, a fan favourite to imitate or use as part of their Halloween costume. Eddie Munson wasn't the first rockstar to smash a guitar on stage and he wouldn't be the last, but what he was acting out was shrouded in mystery, as the song itself gave away nothing with its absence of lyrics.

When questioned in interviews Eddie said the same thing, "If I told you, I would have to kill you" then he would laugh heartily. An added clue if he was on TV, he'd wink directly at the camera and say, "Isn't that right, big boy?".

Thats all the fanbase has to go on, until a concert video is released. At the end of the tape past the credits, is a hidden extra.

Spliced together, the cameras are filming two views of this particular part of the show. One is stage focused from the crowd's view and the other is also pointing out at the stage but from the wings, out of sight. In which leans some bespectacled, unassuming, yuppie-looking, type of guy, complaining, with his arms folded watching the show.

He's frowning, shaking his head in an alarm, as one hand comes out to gesture at Eddie on stage "Ah no! That is not what happened..." Then turning to behind the camera, worry etched on his face and in his tone, "I didn't look that ridiculous? Did I?" Only to be met with the raucous laughter of two unseen women.

How the song in question was written

The last time Corroded Coffin ever play this song

AO3 Link

[the0ldmann]

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI, you'll be blocked on sight!

I tried to do something gaslighty, gave up, and wrote something a little more... uh... like two people playing a little bit of a back and forth game? 'Tis short. And fluffy. Little provocative but not explicit.

1,418 words.

Writing below the cut, if that wasn't obvious.

---

You were feeling restless this evening. Nothing good was on TV and you had run out of things to bake until payday. Though it was only recently you had confessed your feelings for Friend, you still felt a little odd bothering him this late at night. Huffing, you scanned your living room for any inspiration to kill your boredom.

That’s when you noticed the bunny plush.

It had been sitting there on a little end table you’d throw your keys and spam mail on for the past couple weeks, overlooking the room. A personal gift from Friend- one of many! He’d sewn you quite a few plushies and you’d finally started running out of room in your bedroom for them. Storage felt a rude solution to store them, so moving them to other rooms was all you could think of.

Quickly, you picked it up, glancing at its eyes when you could without trying to make it obvious. Sitting back down, plush facing away from you, you tried your best to tilt it ever so slightly and get a better look at its eyes.

“They’re just really shiny eye buttons, there’s nothing weird about them.”

That’s what Friend had told you the first time you tried taking a closer look at them. You were absolutely positive they were cameras though, and the looking you were doing now confirmed that.

How could they not be? The eyes looked exactly like the camera on the back of your phone.

An idea came to you.

Friend was always so good at dodging questions. However, you never bothered to press. Everything he said you took at face value- well, most of what he said at least. Otherwise you wouldn’t be thinking about the numerous plush cameras in your place of residence right now.

Seems like bothering him this late was on the agenda anyway. Excitement coursed through your veins as a small smile started to tug at your lips. Could you back Friend into a corner and get him to admit it? Or perhaps get him to admit to something he couldn’t have known without revealing they were cameras?

If you were going to question him, you were going to make this fun though. Those little pink hearts of his were adorable, and while you wouldn’t be able to see them, you wanted to make it hard for him to see through them.

Standing up, you set the bunny on the couch and went to your bedroom. Most of the plushies were turned away, staring into corners and up at the ceiling. Picking out a little green frog holding a mushroom, you set it carefully on the bookshelf by your bed, facing outwards. If the cameras in it hadn’t died, Friend should be able to see you.

If he was looking at whatever computer he had the cameras hooked up to…

A quick text could maybe fix that. This late in the day? He has to be at home right now.

… Right?

Sweet<3: Oh Frieeeeend~

Friend: Someone’s in a good mood I see. What’s up?

Sweet<3: You wouldn’t happen to be at home and on your computer, would you?

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Whipping off your pants you sat down on your bed, one leg propped up and hugging it with your arm. Surely this would get his attention. It was only a minute before you got a response.

Friend: Sorry, I had to boot it up. Was there something you wanted to show me? ;P

Of course he wouldn’t let on that easily, but you were determined to try.

Sweet<3: So I’m still not convinced you haven’t sewn cameras in the plushies, but that would actually come in real handy right now.

You could almost hear the sigh coming through his text.

Friend: Again? Would it even be possible to convince you otherwise? They’re just special buttons for a special plush made for a special someone.

A pause. You smirk as you see the three little dots come back up.

Friend: Wait, what do you mean hidden cameras would come in handy right now?

Sweet<3: You’d be able to see if you had them~ ;P

Two could play at that game.

Friend was drumming his fingers as he stared at the screen. He wasn’t about to confirm your suspicions. Seeing you sitting there in your underwear made it hard to not ask what it was you wanted. Clearly you wanted something, and he was going to pry it out. Unlucky for you.

Friend: C’mon Sweetheart! I don’t have them so I clearly can’t see. What is it?

Sweet<3: Hmmm, it’s a little hard to explain through text… You really have to see!

Friend: You’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Sweet<3: Maybe a little. ^u^

Friend: How could you be so mean??

You swear you could see the dramatic hand-over-the-heart he was probably doing right now. Little did you know how patient of a man you were dealing with.

And how quickly his patience had been running out…

Sweet<3: Okay okay, I’m willing to give you a hint.

Friend: Now we’re talkin’!

Sweet<3: Am I wearing pants right now?

Friend: Wha… What kind of a hint is that?

Sweet<3: You don’t need cameras to guess~

Friend: If that’s the case, I’m going to guess you’re not. No reason to ask otherwise, hm?

This was true. You got up, taking your phone with you and walking out of sight. Slowly, you stripped down completely before throwing on a pair of lingerie you recently bought.

Admittedly, you were a little nervous about letting Friend see it, but if you were going to get him to slip up, this was going to be the way.

Friend: Are you still there, love?

Ah, right, you had left him on read in order to change.

Sweet<3: Oh don’t worry, I’m getting ready!

Friend: Getting ready for what, Sweetheart? You saying “don’t worry” worries me greatly.

Sweet<3: I know, but this is a good surprise, promise!

Friend: You gonna send me a picture when you’re ready?

He was already cutting you off before you could get any farther. As you stepped back in the line of sight of the plush, you proceeded to half lay down on the bed. Stroking a thigh while smirking at the camera, you gave him a minute to say anything else.

Nothing else was said. Left to come to your own conclusions, the best you could do was tease him some more.

Sweet<3: If you had to guess what the surprise was to get a picture… What would you guess?

A pause. You were at least making it difficult for him to type.

Friend: Out of all the things this surprise could be, I’ll be left guessing for ages!

Sweet<3: What would you want it to be most right now?

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected him to say. Admitting he liked you took forever for him to do. Seems taking that step had left him feeling bolder.

Friend: Hmm… You dressed up in a really cute outfit. Is that it? Prancing about in front of whatever you think has a camera in it?

Was that a read or really nothing more than a blind guess? You suppose you had pranced about in a cute outfit in front of the cameras a few times before… Wait. Was his guess based on past things he’d seen? Shit, maybe you were more unprepared than you thought…

As concern started to cross your features, another text message came through.

Friend: Oh, I’m so right, aren’t I? Are you taking a pic right now? We could always video chat instead- I know you have a brand new laptop for school.

And as quickly as you were starting to have fun with your little game, he had squashed it. Did he know? He had to have. They were cameras after all! As frustrating as he could be, you were going to get the last word on him. You went back to the living room to dig your laptop out of your bag. Sitting down on the couch, you flipped it open and started up a video call.

“Oh, so you did decide to-”

Friend stops mid sentence to stare, pink hearts already floating around his head growing even more in number.

“What’s the matter,” your tone is coy as you sit a little more provocatively, “cat got your tongue?”

[sofasoap]

Thinking of you

Pairing :  John Price x f!reader. Mature theme. Under 18 DNI. 

Summary: After a hard mission, Price has some time alone. Thinking about you, and his son.

This is part of the “Mini” MacTavish universe, but the reader isn’t “ Mini”. Continuation of A quiet moment  – John Price . But you can read it as a standalone too.

“masterlist” for prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

It’s been a near impossible mission. It was a damn miracle they made it out alive. Thanks to their newest member, Johnny MacTavish, the loud mouth, cocky “FNG”, who actually proves himself by saving everyone’s ass  with his expertise in explosives.  Even Ghost was impressed.

Shedding himself out of the tactical gears, throwing it down haphazardly on the tent floor, he slump against the cot, while lightening up a cigar. The mission really took a toll on him mentally this time round. Blowing out a puff of smoke,his thought wonders to you. He misses you. 

He misses the way you call out his name when he thrust into you, chasing for the high. 

That little smile every time he brings you coffee in the morning. The way your eye lingers on him, everytime he walks into the room. How you grips onto his shirt in your sleep, afraid he will disappear any moment. The stolen kisses in the dark of the corridor, when no one else is looking. The bright beaming smile you gave him, when he quietly suggested you two should get married. 

He misses how you will give him the look of disapproval everytime he lights up a cigar. “As your wife and medic,please cut it down.” Scrunching your nose up as you complain. 

Price always laughs and pulls you in for a gentle kiss after you voice your disdain. You didn’t mind him having occasional smoke here and there, knowing it’s his own way to relax. The doleful look you gave him when he was called in at the last minute for a mission. He wasn’t supposed to go. You were due to give birth any minute. But you didn’t complain. You knew this is part of the job, even though the higher up promised him he wouldn’t be called out again until afterwards, but Laswell begged him, they needed his expertise. “I am sorry, Price.” He was going to turn it down. You were the one that actually gave him the nudge to tell him to go on the mission. 

“I will be ok. Go.” You know him too well. If he stays, his mind will always be thinking about the mission instead. 

He ended up missing the birth of his son.

As soon as he got off the plane, he was dragged straight to the hospital. Didn’t even have time to take off his gears. Ghost nudges him straight into the jeep that was waiting, after quietly congratulating him. 

The look of exhaustion but happiness as he crashes through the hospital room, while you were feeding the little new bub.

Kyle Price was born a day after he left. A healthy boy, an exact replica of his father. Dark brown hair, beautiful blue eyes. “Just as handsome as his dad.” You tease. 

John remembered the first time holding his son in his arms. He let out a little yawn, slowly opened his eyes, still unfocused, squinting and trying to see who the new person holding him was. His little finger immediately grabs onto his dad’s big finger as Price gently poking his chubby little cheek. The sacrifices you both made. It’s never been easy. The milestones he kept missing. “Kyle started rolling around.”“Look! He is sitting up now!”“He misses you, he is looking at your photo and calling papa.”“Look at the cute little tooth that is popping out!” The guilt he feels every time you send him updates and pictures of his son, growing up fast, without his dad by his side most times. The beep on the phone and low burn of the cigar pulled him back into the present time.

Looking at the notification, it was a video message from you. A video of Kyle, propping himself up, unsteadily but with determination, wobbling towards the camera, while you cheer him on. There's the ache again. Light knocks on the pole of his tent, the voice of Ghost behind the flap calling out, reminding him of the debriefing meeting that is happening in five minutes' time.

Time to concentrate on work.

Putting out his cigar, he rubs his face, to clear his mind. That’s when he realised he had tears running down his face. He will be home soon. To you and his son. Where his heart belongs.

Sorry if it's a bit over the place. I am really drowsy after the booster shot. But my love for Price is pushing me on. Thank you for reading, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated

[kreamcakez]

Bondage- Shota Aizawa

(kinktober day 18)

Smut

HC's

CW: jealous Aizawa. Not proof read. And this is an adult x adult thing... Not adult x teen or something like that... Teacher x Adult teacher aid.. 🫰🏽👍🏽

AN: I am a I sucker for this man. he screams Dilf teacher I wanna fuck—🤭 okay sorry. Please be nice because theses are my horny thoughts and opinions 🫶🏽.

★MDNI★

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

★ To Start if with hem being jealous, Let's say somebody is flirting with you and she sees it from a far. We all know his capture weapon can hold people still and that he knows who to use it. So what if he pulls you away from whomever, with it? Like what if he just pulls you away from said person??? 🙂 To some place more alone... Like his office maybe 🤫

★Light to his office are down low, And door is locked and blocked. No sound gets in it out. Best if all no cameras 🤳🏽🙅🏽 🫶🏽. So it's just you and him all alone. Your hand tied behind your back you laid on the desk and your legs propped open. Him in between your thighs 🤭.

★ Favorite position? Trick question, he doesn't have one. But he does like to see your face, so desperate under him or on top of him. Those pretty little hands tied together but his scarf. But when he is going through a jealous rut thingy, your wrists and ankles are tied together and your ass is up in the air. Getting stuffed full from behind. Your gonna be sore by the end of the day. 😅

★I think he would tug at the scarf just to pull you closer. Wether it's you sucking or getting fucked, you'll definitely be calmed as his one way or the other. So if it's by the marks on your wrist or itlf it's bite or hickey, hell leave his mark.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

AN: Just be prepared for long sleeves and turtle necks in your future. 🔮 Hope you enjoyed

[dynamic-power]

Coming Soon to Home Video

Here's my second kinktober fic!

You can read it here on ao3

This is for the bingo spaces Masturbation and Video, plus a free space with Edgeplay. Which means I've got my first bingo!

Rated E

Words: 2.5k

CW: sex tapes; mutual masturbation; spit kink; anal sex; edgeplay

-----

The second time he hears a suspicious sounding moan coming from Mickey’s phone, Ian looks over the top of his own. Mickey is lying across the couch, holding his phone over his face. Ian can only see his naked top half from where he is, but he can tell Mickey’s whole body is squirming. 

Ian hears his own voice, followed by the deeper sound of Mickey’s reply. He can’t make out words, but he still has a good idea about exactly what Mickey is looking at. 

“Whatcha watchin’?” he asks anyway. 

“Nothin’,” Mickey grunts back over the sound of his own laughter. It’s a lie and they both know it. Mickey doesn’t look up at Ian as he crosses the room, pausing at the arm of the couch where Mickey’s feet are tucked beneath a pillow. Ian grabs it and tosses it at Mickey. His husband grunts as the pillow lands on his stomach, finally looking up at Ian. “What?” he snaps. 

Ian hears himself say, “roll over, baby, let me see your ass,” and he grins. “I said,” he catches the pillow as Mickey chucks it back at him and throws it behind him, “what are you watching?”

“Fuck, Ian.”

Mickey’s face is flushed and the hand that isn’t holding the phone reaches down to cup his dick through his boxers. He lays his phone on his chest and Ian hears himself curse. Mickey smirks up at Ian. “Wanna see?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ian says, shoving at Mickey’s feet. “Move over.”

Mickey sits up and Ian drops down beside him, close enough that their thighs press together. Mickey turns the volume all the way up as he tilts the screen and his moans fill the room. 

“Another.”

Ian has Mickey on his elbows and knees with his ass towards the camera. The angle isn’t perfect, but they’d managed to prop the phone up on the dresser and had turned themselves in a way that the camera catches it all. Ian’s got one hand spreading Mickey’s cheeks and two fingers of the other are buried in Mickey’s hole. 

There’s something about seeing it on video that is almost as obscene as seeing it in person. 

“I have a great ass,” Mickey comments. 

Ian laughs. “Yeah, Mick, you really do.”

Ian presses a third finger into Mickey and they both let out satisfied sounds. Ian leans over Mickey’s back and says something, not loud enough for the camera to have picked it up, but whatever it is makes them both laugh. Mickey’s laughter dissolves into a whine as Ian crooks his fingers.

It’s watching this, the familiarity and ease they’ve found with each other, even in such intimate moments, that has Ian hardening in his jeans. What they have is so good, and getting to see the visual proof of that seems to be doing it for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mickey slip his hand into his boxers. Ian undoes his belt and gets his pants open. 

“Think that’s enough?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Wanna flip over?”

“Nah, I wanna see what we look like with my ass up.”

Ian growls as he grips Mickey’s hips, leaning over him again. He murmurs again and Mickey makes a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh.

“Were you serious?” Mickey asks. His hand is working himself over slowly. The tip of his cock is leaving a damp mark in the front of his boxers and it takes Ian a moment to realize what Mickey is asking him. “About getting a mirror to hang in the bedroom?”

That is what Ian had said, what had made Mickey laugh. “Fuck yes,” Ian says, rutting his own clothed dick into his palm with a hum. “That would be so fucking hot, fucking you in front of it.”

The phone tips as Mickey lays it down on Ian’s jean-clad thigh just long enough to shuck his boxers off and kick them away. Ian looks over, eagerly taking in the sight of Mickey’s naked form. His hard cock is laying against his soft, plush belly, the tip red and wet and drooling precum into the hair below his navel. Ian wants to get off the couch and kneel between Mickey’s legs, get his mouth around him and suck him down, but he also wants to watch the video, so he stays put. 

Mickey props the phone up again with his free hand. Once it’s off his own leg, Ian shifts his hips up enough to get his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh. He glances back at the screen in time to see-

- Ian grips the base of his dick with one hand, keeping Mickey’s ass spread with the other, and guides himself to his hole. There’s only a moment of resistance before the tip slides in and Ian and Mickey both moan -

- Ian and Mickey both moan, the chorus of four voices filling the room. Ian is about to dig into the cushions for their hidden tube of lube, but before he can, Mickey leans forward. Ian watches, fascinated and extremely turned on, as Mickey lets saliva collect on his tongue and drip from his mouth. His spit lands on the head of his cock, drips down the underside towards his balls. There’s a string connecting his mouth to his length, until his tongue swipes at his bottom lip. He uses his hand to spread his spit, making his next strokes a little smoother. He leans back against the couch, eyes on his phone, but Ian can’t tear his eyes from Mickey. 

It’s filthy and fucking sexy as shit and Ian doesn’t realize he’s said anything out loud until Mickey looks at him again, grinning. 

“That get you hot, Gallagher?”

“Everything you do gets me hot,” Ian grumbles back at him. He finally, finally, gets his hand around his length and gives himself a few rough tugs. 

“Fuck, Mick, so fucking tight. You were made for this dick, weren’t you?”

Ian has a hand on Mickey’s hip and the other tracing shapes on his back. He’s set up a steady pace and already Mickey is matching it, thrust for thrust, pushing back into Ian. It’s not too rough or too soft, just familiar. 

They look fucking great together; that familiarity bleeds into every movement. This is two people who know each other’s bodies intimately, know how to give and take pleasure, and love every minute of it. This is Ian and his fucking husband.

“Ah, fuck, E, right there. There, there, shit.”

Ian reaches beneath the cushion, grabbing the lube. Mickey might be fine using spit and pre like they’re still sixteen, but Ian prefers the small luxuries provided by being an adult. He warms it in his palm before stroking himself again. It’s smoother now. Warm, syrupy pleasure replaces the rough scratch and he moans, settling back into the couch. Mickey is still jerking himself slowly, eyes trained on their video. 

“Can I-” Ian starts, reaching his empty hand towards Mickey’s cock, but he’s cut off when his husband pushes his hands away. 

“Nuh uh, tough guy,” Mickey chides without looking at him. “You’re supposed to be watchin’ , not touchin’.”

Now that he’s been told no, Ian desperately wants it. He wants to envelop Mickey’s small hand in his own, stroke him together, get his own hand covered in the mess of spit and precum that Mickey has made of himself. 

“Keep up with me,” Mickey says. It takes Ian’s pleasure addled brain a moment to realize what Mickey means, but when he does, he obeys, stroking himself at the same pace as Mickey, up and down and up and down-

“Wait, wait.”

Mickey and Ian both pause, holding their breath. 

Ian halts his thrusts. “What?”

“Wanna see you.”

Ian chuckles and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “such a romantic.” He pulls out, cock bobbing as the tip slips free. Mickey’s hole gapes for a moment, clenches a couple times, before he rolls himself onto his back. His thighs immediately wrap around Ian’s waist and he makes grabby hands at Ian. 

“C’mere.”

Ian doesn’t need to be told twice, sinking back into the heat of Mickey’s body. They can kiss now, and they do. The sounds of their mouths almost drown out the sound of Ian’s hips hitting Mickey’s ass. 

The new angle means that Mickey’s leg blocks the view of where Ian’s cock is splitting him open, so the new focus is Ian and the muscles of his ass and thighs as they start fucking again.  

Mickey’s fist speeds up, dragging Ian’s attention away from the phone. He speeds his own hand up, losing pace with Mickey to instead twist around his head every few strokes, getting his own precum mixed with the lube. 

“Fuck,” Mickey grunts. The tip of his dick is turning a dark red and his whole body is writhing and his knuckles are turning white around the phone. He’s close, Ian can tell, and he’s glad for it. His own pleasure is mounting, heat turning in his gut, and he’s not sure how much longer he can go before he comes.

But then Mickey is removing his hand, letting his erection bob against his torso again. 

“Ian,” Mickey says sharply. It’s a command , a direction, and Ian huffs out a whine as he does as he’s told, letting go of his own cock. It twitches and his hips cant up in a fruitless search for the lost friction. But then Mickey says, “good boy,” and it’s worth it. He shuts his eyes and sinks into the warmth of that small bit of praise. 

“Wanna change it up one more time?”

“Fuck. Uh, yeah.”

“You’re not too close?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Wanna see you ride me.”

“Fuck,” Mickey moans, drawing the word out for a few beats. “Yes, yes, want that.”

At this point, they’ve forgotten the camera entirely, rolling to the wrong direction and cutting half of themselves out of the frame.

Ian doesn’t care; he’s too focused on Mickey’s twitching fingers, waiting to come down from their near shared orgasm enough to start up again. Mickey’s eyes are still trained on the phone, and he grins at it. “Gonna have to film it again, we missed the best part.”

“What a shame,” Ian says absently. He really couldn’t care less about the damn video, he just wants-

Mickey nods, and Ian growls again as they both grip their own dicks. Ian matches Mickey’s pace again. He’s panting by the time Mickey spits into his palm. He wants to snark about the lube that’s still within arms reach, but then he feels the rolling wave of his climax approaching again. He holds it off, waits for Mickey to tell him to come. 

“Hands off,” Mickey says, and Ian lets out a devastated groan as he does what he’s told. Half of his mind is pleased to see Mickey is doing the same, edging himself just like he’s edging Ian, but the other half just wants to come . “One more, E, one more and then you can come, okay?”

“Okay,” he grinds out. His pulse is racing, his cock is throbbing, his balls are tight, and all he wants is to come, but he can do one more for Mickey. 

Mickey gives him the go-ahead too soon, and it only takes a few strokes for him to be staring over the edge of that glorious cliff again. This time, he lets go a moment before Mickey tells him to, body screaming at him as he avoids his orgasm one last time. Everything is on fire; his fingers are tingling, his limbs feel heavy already, his stomach is tense. He squirms as he glances at the phone one last time. 

Only one of Mick’s thighs is visible, and the thick muscle is trembling as he works himself on Ian’s cock. Ian’s hand is everywhere; his hip, his ribs, his hair, his calf. Soothing every overworked muscle that he can. 

Any words that may have been falling from Mickey’s mouth have been replaced by the little, “ah, ah, ahs” that mean he’s close. Ian has devolved to moans, too, though his own sounds are hard to hear over Mickey’s. 

“Come for me,” Mickey tells him, and Ian only has to stroke himself one, two, three times before he’s coming, hard, ropes of cum painting his shirt. His vision spots as wave after wave of intense heat roll through his whole body. He continues to fuck into his fist, drawing out every bit of pleasure he can, before he sinking into the couch, completely boneless. 

He looks over at Mickey. 

He’s abandoned the phone, dropped it to the floor, and is staring at Ian’s spent cock and soiled shirt. He grunts as his hips fuck up into his fist, no real rhythm, just a desperate chase of his own release. 

Ian finds just enough energy to push himself up, twist himself down until he’s knelt in between Mick’s thighs, and wraps his mouth around the tip of his cock. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he comes, shooting off into Ian’s mouth. Ian takes it all, savors the familiar taste of him, swallows. As Mickey comes down from his high, Ian laps at his softening dick, adding his own spit to the mess of Mickey’s groin rather than doing anything to clean him up. 

“Fuck,” Mickey says, nudging Ian’s head away with a laugh. 

Ian finally kicks away his pants and peels himself out of his sticky shirt. “Any notes?”

“Not on my masturbation technique,” Ian says, hoisting himself off the floor and settling into Mickey’s lap instead, straddling his thighs. Mickey winces as their soft cocks drag together, near painfully sensitive. Ian loops his arms around his shoulders, delving his fingers into Mickey’s hair and messing it up more. “On the video.”

“On what?” Mickey asks, blinking down at him. His cheeks are pink and his hair is a little disheveled and the blue of his eyes has been almost entirely swallowed by his dark pupils. He’s beautiful . “You hardly did anything other than touch yourself .”

“Oh.” Mickey considers it for a moment. “That angle works if you’re taking me from behind, but we gotta work on how to catch other positions.”

“A mirror will help.”

“Fuck yes.”

Ian glances down at the phone, abandoned on the floor. 

They’re in the middle of a good post-coital cuddle. Mickey’s on his stomach, and his ass is just visible, Ian’s cum leaking from his hole. The only part of Ian’s body that can be seen is his hand, drifting across Mickey’s back in mindless loops, occasionally dipping down to feel his spend in Mickey’s ass. 

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be expecting a round 2, Firecrotch.”

“We should turn your camera off.”

Mickey’s head whirls up, eyes comically large as he stares directly at the camera. He collapses back down in a heap of giggles. “I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“I’m sure you’ll make good use of it later.”

-----

Thanks again to @gallavichthings! I'm having a ton of fun with these.

[thunderstroked]

Boudoir & Business || Mona & Siobhan

TIMING: current. LOCATION: amity road photos. PARTIES: @banisheed & @thunderstroked SUMMARY: siobhan wants photos taken of her and she wants them now! mona obliges. CONTENT: allusions to domestic abuse (fae related).

Mona hadn’t anticipated the woman ahead of her actually showing up, especially not in the nude. Then again, she should have taken her words at face value regardless of whether or not she thought she would– she seemed the type to hold her word, even if her word was more on the eccentric side. Then again, who was she to judge? Before Esther had left, she had shown Mona the ins and outs of her studio– had shown her how to shoot, and how to edit. Whether or not Mona actually retained any of that was left to be seen. 

The gumiho stood across from her subject, not bothered at all by the lack of clothes. They were just bodies to one another, after all. Mona pointed in the direction of the props, which ranged from feathery cupid’s wings, a giant heart, to dog ears and more. “You can help yourself to those, if you’d like.” There was even a skeleton, special for Halloween. She’d gone out and gotten that herself, along with a few rubber spiders. “But go ahead and pose however you’d like, and I’ll snap the photo.” She was behind the camera now, gaze setting over the viewfinder. At least she’d retained that information. 

Siobhan was beautiful, she’d grown into it; gangly, pale child into curvy, still pale, adult who understood the length of her limbs and the fullness of her lips. Her beauty, inherited from her mother but diverged in its soft edges to her mother’s hard corners, was solely hers. Her beauty, striking and undeniable, was taken from her. Her face remained unmarred as a reminder of what had been taken; a bow tied at the end of a piece of rotting fruit. She had no use for a nude photo of herself, she hardly enjoyed looking at herself but did so anyway, poking and prodding at her scarred flesh as if it might transform—stitching memories of what it had been. There was no point to her visit other than the obvious: there was some idea to maintain and some sense of cruel enjoyment. So she came with a thin robe worn under a long brown coat and marched into the studio as if nude photos were the sort of thing she had taken all the time. Then she sucked in a breath, glamored her skin to flawlessness, and took it all off. 

“Fates, no,” she hissed. “Do you want me to look ridiculous? With that skeleton? Who do you think I am? The sort of person that lays a plastic--anatomically insulting--skeleton on herself?” Siobhan stared at the other props. She ran her finger along the fake feathers on the wings. She twisted the plastic, sneering at how easily they cracked under her fingers. “These,” she rasped, pulling them on. The pressure against her back burned and soothed. They were nothing like hers, an insult to the beauty that once graced her back--but she’d wanted them in some way she could hardly explain. “Just these. No…” She pulled a few spiders. “These too.” She settled back down on her seat. “Fates,” she rolled her eyes, “if all you were going to do was press a button on a camera I could have done this myself.” But she hadn’t and now she was here.

Siobhan readied herself; one leg thrown over the other, back arched, hand steadied on the edge of her stool, small, feathery wings on display, brown hair pulled down one shoulder. “Go ahead.” 

“No.” Mona stared ahead at Siobhan, eyebrow raised, “I think you’re somebody who has come looking for nude photographs of yourself, and it’s just a prop.” But even though the skeleton hadn’t been something she was keen on, it seemed as though the other objects Mona had brought in were something that caught the woman’s eye. The wings were pulled over her shoulders, see-through plastic straps tight against her shoulders. Some of the feathers fell to the floor with the movement. Maybe Mona would need to invest in higher quality props. She knew that Esther had some laying around, too. Maybe in the attic. She’d need to go and look. Most things had been cleaned out prior to her departure. 

If you need to find something, go up. 

Whatever that meant. Mona sucked in a breath as she watched Siobhan delicately place the spiders onto herself. Again, it was just a body– the woman in front of her, however, was not bad to look at. There was a sense of knowing from her, too. It was confidence, Mona realized. Of course it had to have been. Who would suggest nude photos if they weren’t confident in themselves? 

“It’s not just a button.” It was, sort of. She’d need to detect the lighting– something that Edith, no, Esther? She couldn’t remember now, had told her to do. She pulled out the light meter and extended a hand, before craning back to look at the camera. “I’m going to take a few test shots. These, of course, are without charge.” She’d provide them to the woman, anyway, if they looked good. 

“Okay.” Mona looked up to meet Siobhan’s eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It will flash a bit, obviously. It’s a camera.” She pressed the button and light bloomed from where she stood, to just over Siobhan with the lighting kit. She took a few more photos, picking the camera up off of the tripod. She took a step back, peering through the lens. It wasn’t necessary due to the digital aspect of it all, but it felt right. Whether or not the woman ahead of her would be appreciative of the dramatic flair of it, she couldn’t be sure. “Would you like to try another pose?” 

The skeleton was insulting, though she didn’t belabor the point. Instead, as Siobhan posed, her gaze drifted towards it. Fates, it was so hideous; birthed from disgusting plastic--a human invention--and lacking in any anatomical accuracy. She couldn’t stop looking at it. Why did the humans insist on this for their…what was the insipid holiday called? The one that correlated with Samhain? She closed her eyes as thoughts swirled in her head, manifested in pops of yellow and red in the darkness. Hollow…something? Hollow bones? Like birds? 

“Huh?” Her eyes snapped open, blinking quickly to adjust to the sudden light. “I--uh--” She’d forgotten where she was. Siobhan rubbed her eyes. She pulled her arms up over her head and then she felt it. Something scraped along her shoulder blades. She paused, breath caught in her throat and arms frozen in the air. She gulped. It wasn’t…it couldn’t be… Siobhan turned her head. Over her shoulder, sticking out from her back, was the feathered edge of a set of plastic wings. The hope that swelled inside of her ruptured in a surprised gasp. She’d forgotten she’d taken them. She’d forgotten about her glamour. Scars of every variety, as if her skin was a testing sheet for violence, dissolved into reality across her flesh--from her toned calves up to the crest of her neck and, with special vicious consideration, painted on her wingless back. She could feel it dissipate with a sudden chill before she straightened out, clenched her jaw, and willed the magic back into place. She looked up at the photographer.

“I’ll try laying down now, I think,” Siobhan coughed; if she pretended like nothing was wrong, maybe the photographer would trick herself into thinking she’d seen nothing. Siobhan pushed the stool aside and stretched out on the ground like a cat. Her gaze returned to the cursed skeleton; it was that thing’s fault, somehow. “Ready again,” she grumbled. 

Siobhan looked to be lost in thought and Mona made no move to interrupt whatever might be running through her mind. Since taking on temporary ownership of the photography studio, she had learned a lot about people. They liked to be told what to do when necessary, and left alone for the rest of it. Mona wasn’t sure where this woman fell into the mold, but she figured it was somewhere far, far out of reach. She wasn’t even really sure if she was allowed to be taking nude photographs of the woman, but who was she to deny somebody’s dream? Besides, it was just a body, just like the others that’d ventured through the door. 

The individual ahead of her, however, slipped in and out of view, or at least, that’s what it felt like. What Mona had been approached with had been that of a woman with smooth skin– pale as the moon, and in a flash, it was prickled with evidence of torture– years of wear. Mona forced her gaze ahead, to not travel along the lines of those scars– of finding identifying moments within the ones that covered from her neck down to her shoulder. These were different, she realized. Insidious– on purpose. Somebody had meant to do that to her, and it occurred to her then that this was no regular human in front of her, not with the way the glamor pulled over like a sleeve within moments of recognition that it had slipped to begin with. Mona had seen that before, though it was different. Where there should have been something different was just a woman who had revealed the ache of her past instead of insect wings, scales, or goat legs. 

Her subject spoke and Mona found her attention pulling back over to the woman, to her features– soft, but sharp in all the ways it should be. There was attention to detail there, in her entire appearance. Not just in actual looks, but in the set of her expression– in the carefulness of her gaze. Mona had seen that somewhere before– maybe in her own mother. Mona cleared her throat and nodded. She took a step back, taking another photo. A part of her thought the scars might appear on the screen, that they might be highlighted with notes dug into the skin this is what happened to me. “Perfect, but that’s no surprise.” Mona looked over the camera and nodded at her, “would you like to see?” She tried to run through the possibilities of what the woman before her was– surely a fae, but she wasn’t certain on what kind. Her own scars ached beneath the sweatshirt she wore, as if in some kind of solidarity with the woman before her. 

Siobhan was never normal, if the idea of “normal” could be bundled up in a series of traits and actions. She wasn’t normal before her first scream and she wasn’t normal after it. As an adult, she had moved so far from “normal” that she constantly forgot that there was such a state in existence as normalcy; she couldn’t fathom what that felt like. It did not, she reasoned, feel like laying naked in some photography studio trying her best to appear sexy—which wasn’t hard—while trying not to ask herself exactly who these photos were for. For a moment she thought about plastering them around town but then remembered that her role as a teacher meant the action would be wholly inappropriate, far beyond anything fun. She looked at her photographer and wondered what she did, who she was. Was she normal? Curiosity shattered by Mona’s voice, Siobhan pushed herself off the ground and brushed her glamoured skin—as if one grain of dirt would ruin it. As if she were a normal person, with normal skin, who wanted normal things. 

“I suppose I can give it a look.” Siobhan stretched, arms above her head. When she relaxed, she pulled the cheap wings off her back. “You don’t have much bedside manner, so to speak. As a photographer. You’re very clinical.” Not that Siobhan had ever been photographed by anyone else, but she had expected more compliments, more praise. She hoped it would have been shoveled on to her from the moment her tits graced the open air. She looked back at the stupid plastic skeleton, then towards the photos. She nearly screamed. There was almost an artistry in their amateur horror—the unfocus, the unflattering tilt, the blur, the comical lack of understanding for composition—almost. “Those are hideous,” she said flatly. “It’s a skill that you managed to take a subject like me and make it ugly. Is this what passes for art now? I feel nauseous just looking at it.” Siobhan tilted her head. “You get paid for this? I’m paying for this?” She tilted her head the other way. “Are you aware of that human adage? ‘Don’t quit your day job’? Except this is your day job.” 

“I don’t know what bedside manner means.” Mona tried to think about what Siobhan could want with the comment. She thought to tell the woman ahead of her that this wasn’t exactly her forte, that it felt stiff because Mona was afraid of tearing down the business that Edith had created. That because she was just filling in for an old friend who had saved her life, she felt obligated to do her best, and by doing her best, it meant not being so much herself, and being a version that got shit done. She hated this version of herself, but she couldn’t exactly recoil from it now. 

The photos were hideous, she knew that much. She stared down at the screen, glass no longer smoothing out the obvious discrepancies of the photo. Mona had thought she’d done an okay job. She figured Siobhan’s beauty would have saved the photos no matter what, but that didn’t seem to be the case. She felt a little frustrated by the onslaught of insults, but pushed the feeling down. They weren’t anything she hadn’t heard before. So maybe Edith’s company would fall apart. Oops. Then again, she had warned the fury. 

“If you’re dissatisfied–” She cut herself off with a sigh, bringing the camera away from Siobhan. She held it close to her stomach, looking at the other woman. She was slightly peeved that there’d be the suggestion of her being human, but Mona hadn’t really said much else to explain that she wasn’t. “Look, I’m just doing this for a friend. I’m bad, I know that, but I’m trying, and I figured you were pretty enough that it wouldn’t matter.” She looked at the pictures again, frown deepening, “but these– yeah, you’re right, they can’t be saved.” Mona put the camera back onto the tripod and turned her attention back to Siobhan. “You don’t need to pay me, and I’ll throw in the wings for free. Nobody else uses them, anyway, and it looks like you liked them.” It looked like she hated them and was traumatized by them, but she still wore them. Mona moved to the side, grabbing the robe that Siobhan had come in with and extended it towards her, “as much as I love looking at naked bodies, you can put this back on.” 

“You’re running a photography business for a friend?” Siobhan thought about her own friendships—largely nonexistent—and if she’d run a whole business for them—well, the answer for that was easy. Any kind of relationship that would make someone take hideous photos for a living was one she couldn’t fathom. “This isn’t one of those cases where you’ve killed the person in charge and now need to run the business as if their corpse weren't in the attic, is it? Because that’d be interesting and I’ve already decided you’re boring and changing my mind is so tiresome.” Siobhan grabbed her robe quickly, slipping it on. She’d also decided that the photographer didn’t deserve her tits. 

She had resolved to hate her. Yes, she imagined herself saying, I will be taking these ugly plastic wings and leaving now. She imagined her foot lifting, and then the other, and a steady walk to the exit. Her legs ached with their eagerness to move. Siobhan wanted it. She thought about it. She— “I didn’t say they were unsaveable, only that they were hideous.” She threw the plastic wings aside and placed a gentle hand on the photographer’s shoulder. “Every artist starts somewhere. You, perhaps, are starting at much lower skill than most amateur photographers. In fact, it’s quite admirable that you were able to take such repulsive photos. It was as if you took every known fact of aesthetics and ruined it. That, itself, is a skill. No other photographer would be able to take such terrible photos. Why? Because they understand the medium even a little bit, unlike you. You don’t understand it at all. That, I think, is an art.” Her grip transformed into gentle pats. “There, there.”

Pulling her robe tighter around her body, Siobhan smiled. “I will pay you. You rendered services. You rendered them poorly but you did render them.” Thankful for robe pockets, she pulled out a tangled wad of cash and slapped it on to the prop table. “You may keep the photos, they might accompany you on lonely nights. Or, perhaps, you may submit them to an untalented photographer’s art show. You may even want to pretend like you are a child, and thus your obvious lack of skill will be forgiven. Though, it may raise suspicion as to why a child would be taking photos of a naked woman—perhaps not that, then.” Traveling the length of the prop table she grabbed the plastic skeleton and held it to her chest. Then she grabbed her coat and draped it over the anatomically inaccurate body. “I will be taking this, however. You are welcome.” 

Sparing a look at the photographer, her gaze drifted to the wings she discarded. “You gave me something new. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.” Siobhan looked up. “That’s more valuable, don’t you agree?” 

Mona arched her brow, “no, but that would be interesting.” It has already been confirmed that Siobhan is fae, or at least that she was using some kind of glamor. She wasn’t sure if any human spellcasters could do something of that caliber, and so Mona extends a part of herself, the part of her own kind that are devout to the favors in kind. “They helped me with something, so I agreed to help them, too.” Mona considered letting Siobhan think that she got herself into a promise bind before she added on, “I like to repay my favors, even without there being some… proverbial axe swinging over my head.” Maybe that’d be enough. 

Her own expression devolved into something of amusement as Siobhan… was that comfort? No, nobody would comfort somebody in that way, but it almost seemed adjacent. Mona nodded, clearly agreeing with the woman across from her. It was obvious that this wasn’t something she should have agreed to, but lucky enough for her, most people were too polite to protest about how bad their photos had come out. On the other hand, Siobhan’s candidness was… nice, to say the least. Though, Mona wouldn’t have expected otherwise. Who else would’ve arrived at a photo studio naked than somebody who expelled the truth? “I’m going to take that as a compliment, because I’m sure that somewhere, there’s a competition for worst photos.” She was almost sure there wasn’t, but did that matter? Not really. 

There was surprise, however, that Siobhan was still intending to pay her. Mona bit back the urge to tell her to keep the money, and she watched as the green bills were untangled from the wad in the woman’s pocket, and then set onto the table. She lifted her gaze to meet the brunette’s, tilting her head to the side. She opened her mouth to speak, but promptly closed it as Siobhan continued. “I could always pretend that it’s a new wave– a new era. Humans are stupid enough to believe in that.” She could have phrased it differently, but Mona had to admit, she didn’t want the fae to think that she was such a lowly thing as human. It probably wouldn’t bend her expectations, or even her thoughts surrounding the engagement, but at the very least, she wouldn’t be thought of as human, and that was enough for her. The skeleton was dipped under the coat and Mona found herself a little sad to see it go. “Take good care of him, like I took good care of you.” Had she, though? There was a certain comfort, at least; in vulnerability, and it showed in the words that Siobhan spoke next, though Mona wasn’t sure if there was a level of sarcasm there or not. 

“You certainly gave me a lot to think about, Siobhan. I appreciate your business.” She picked up the wad of bills, half-considering using them for the means of lessons in photography, but remembered the animatronic robot she saw a few weeks ago in the window sill of a nearby shop. It’d look good in the apartment.