#that’s the most his facial hair can grow it just stops at that

[pedroshotwifey]

For the NSFW prompts, can you do #25 with Dave and Dieter and GN reader?

Hey, babe! Here it is in all of its filthy glory! I'm not sure what came over me, but I do know what (who) came over them :)

Pairing: Sub!Dieter Bravo x Sub!GN!reader x Dom!Dave York

W/C: 2.4k

Tags/warnings: polyamory, established relationship, dom & sub roles, finger fucking, ass eating, orgasm denial, edging, playful banter/undertones, fluff, smut, healthy relationship, aftercare, blowjobs, deepthroating, facial, cum eating, ball play, mutual masturbation, hair pulling, pet names, degradation (not rly but kinda), one singular spank, one singular barely there face slap, no description of reader other than they have hair (doesn't specify how long), Dee and reader being little shits

Summary: You and Dieter think it's fun to tease Dave, and Dave thinks he should teach you both a lesson for it.

Tease

Dave probably only got home about half an hour ago, but you’re already starting to feel the effect he has on you. You’ve been a bit pent up all day, and you can’t help it anymore. He, you, and Dieter have been cuddling in bed for most of the time he’s been here, you on his left and Dee on his right as you savor his presence in the dark. You’ve had a feeling that Dee’s been just as pent up as you all day, but now you hear him snoring—which is pretty on brand for him. 

The two of you are allowed to mess around while Dave's at work, the only rule being that neither of you are allowed to come without his permission. So, technically, it’s your own fault for starting shit with Dee this morning. But still. You need him for backup right now. How do you just fall asleep after being edged for a solid hour and a half?  

You’re lying so that your back is to Dave’s front, and obviously you can’t resist grinding your ass back into him. You’ve been making subtle adjustments for the last ten minutes or so, feeling him grow harder and harder. 

You hide your smile in the pillow as you push your ass against him again, attempting to play innocent for however long you can. Of course, it doesn’t work. You hear an intake of breath before Dave slides a hand over your hip and growls into your ear. 

“You don’t realize what it does to me when we’re cuddling and you press your ass against me.” 

You put on your best guiltless face and crane your neck to look at him. “What do you mean?” you ask sweetly. He just gives you a pointed look—a warning. 

I mean, you do have to admire his composure thus far. Had it been Dieter, he would probably already be all over you already. As if on cue, you see a bed-messed head rise up behind Dave’s broad shoulders. He looks like he just woke up, which is probably accurate. 

“They can grind it against me if they want,” he offers like he’s doing the two of you a great service, face serious. He’s propped up on his side, and you can tell the exact moment he grinds against Dave’s ass because Dave whips around and shoots him that same glare he gave you a few seconds ago. Dieter just smiles and you have to hold in your laugh, which makes him have to hold in his laugh, which causes the both of you to lose it. 

You both fall back down on either side of Dave, your laughter growing as he looks between the two of you, trying to figure out what the hell is happening. He ends up grumbling something neither of you catch through your fits of giggles. 

“I guess both of you need to be taught a lesson, acting like children,” he says. 

That catches your attention, and the laughter stops almost immediately. You and Dieter catch each other’s eyes yet again, but this time they’re filled with mischief, excitement, and anticipation. 

“Oh no, please don’t do that,” you drawl, very obviously sarcastic. Dave brings his attention back to where you’re now laying on your back looking up at him, and his face could probably be summed up into the ‘listen here, you little shit’ meme. You hear Dee snickering behind him. 

You flash him a wink and he can’t take it anymore. He sits all the way up and starts to get out of bed, going to turn the light on. 

“Both of you,” he tosses over his shoulder. “Get up and strip.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice. You and Dieter quickly scramble out and start pulling your clothes off as Dave walks back to the bed, only unbuckling his belt. Before he takes a seat on the edge and waits for both of you to finish. As Dieter pulls his pants down, you can’t help but glance at his cock, still hard as it was earlier. 

“Come here, Dieter,” Dave points to the bed beside him, and Dee is quick to follow his instruction. You see him gulp as he climbs onto the bed, sure to be on his best behavior. He knows he’s in trouble when Dave uses his full name. “Hands and knees,” he tells him. Dee gets into position. 

You watch with pleading eyes, waiting to join in on the fun. 

“Get behind him,” he says to you. “I think he wants your sweet tongue in his ass. Don’t you, Dee?” 

You climb onto the bed behind him, taking position as Dee nods frantically. 

“Ask nicely,” Dave demands, settling up behind you and placing a hand on your back. 

“Please eat my ass, I need it,” Dieter begs you, pushing it out more in invitation. 

“Good boy. Go ahead, baby,” he tells you. “Give him what he wants.” 

You quickly surge forward, licking a stripe up his taint and feeling him shiver against you as he lets out a long groan. 

You try your best to ignore the way Dave’s hand starts to creep further down your body, cupping your ass. It goes away for a second, and when his fingers return, they’re covered in what you can assume is his saliva. He trails them down to your hole, not pushing them in but just teasing. You whine against Dieter as you circle his hole, your hips pushing back to try to get Dave inside of you. 

Clearly, that wasn’t a good choice because there’s very quickly a spank against your ass, making you jolt. “Be good,” He reminds you. You nod and finally slip your tongue inside of Dieter, making him moan and his hips thrust forward, his cock swinging in the air. You keep going, working him further by thrusting the muscle in and out as Dave’s fingers come back to your own hole, this time allowing one to slip in about halfway. You keen but do your best to not push back, just keep focusing on Dee, doing what he likes. 

Dieter moans again as you touch that spot he loves so much, and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to touch his aching cock. 

Dave pushes his finger all the way in and you start to tremble with need. You pull your tongue back and start to circle Dieter’s rim again, and this time his hand comes back and threads through your hair, not pulling or pushing, but most likely there to stabilize himself. 

“Mhhp, ‘s so good,” he whines. 

Dave chuckles and you can see him shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. “Desperate things.” 

He’s pumping his finger in and out of you now, and he adds a second as your tongue pushes back into Dieter’s ass. You can feel heat start to lick at the base of your spine and curl up in your belly, and you’re sure that Dee’s probably feeling the same right now. You catch a glimpse of Dave’s other arm moving, and you know he’s palming himself over his slacks. 

Dave’s fingers speed up, and you can feel yourself getting close. Judging by the way Dieter’s whines grow more high pitched and his body starts to shake, he must be getting close, too. 

“D-Dave,” Dieter whimpers. “Please can I come? Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” 

His hips are rocking now, and you place a hand on his thigh to steady him as you increase your efforts. You’re almost there, too. You just need a little more of Dave slamming his fingers deep inside of you, crooking them just right.

You’re about to signal to ask, to fall apart with Dieter, when Dave’s fingers quickly pull out, and then you’re being dragged away from Dee’s ass. 

“No!” you cry as Dave pulls you to him, your building orgasm beginning to fade. Dieter collapses, a groan of defeat leaving his lips. 

Dave laughs, holding you and making you watch as Dee lays in a panting heap on the bed. You look up at him, a million different emotions in your eyes. When you look back to Dieter, you find an expression that probably matches yours watching your Dom as well. 

Dave looks back and forth between you, a smirk playing at his lips. “What? Not funny when I do it?” 

Your jaw just about drops. So that’s what this is. You almost forgot about that. You look at Dieter, who dramatically plants his face into the mattress. 

“Get back up, Dieter, both of you on your knees, now.”

You both slide from the bed, much less enthusiastically than you had gotten on. Dave, the only one still smiling, gets off behind the two of you and walks past where you’ve gotten into position side by side on your knees. 

You both watch him, trying not to drool as he slowly strips out of his clothes and then walks back to you, his hard cock hanging tauntingly in front of you. You can’t take your eyes off of it, the bead of precum at the tip as he firmly grasps it. 

“Well?” 

You and Dee are pulled from your trance, both of you looking up at Dave’s face. “Open your mouths,” he tells you, leaving no room for negotiation—not that either of you would want such a thing. You both obey, opening your jaws and showing your tongues. 

“There we go,” Dave encourages condescendingly. He taps the tip of his cock on your tongues one at a time, giving each you the smallest taste. 

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to touch yourselves while you suck my cock, and if you can come before I do, then go ahead, you don’t have to ask permission.” 

You both perk up at this, tongues still out and waiting. 

“If you can’t though,” Dave continues, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Then you’ll just have to wait until I decide you can.” 

You and Dee stay facing him, but your eyes flicker toward each other. You both know that he doesn’t just mean wait hour or a day. He might make you wait a week—more if he feels like it. If you want relief any time soon, it needs to happen now. 

“Well? What are you sluts waiting for?” 

You both surge forward, mouths finding his shaft and sucking once he moves his hand out of the way. He tastes so fucking good—salty and musky. You both moan at the same time, sending vibrations up Dave’s cock and making him groan. 

“Fucking good job,” Dave mutters. Dieter whimpers at the praise, and you feel yourself throb, which is the second you remember you’re allowed to touch yourself. 

You thrust your hand down between your legs, immediately starting to work yourself. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at finally being able to do something about the ache that’s been there all day. There’s a sudden sting on your cheek, and you’re forced to look back up at Dave from where he landed the soft smack. He’s watching you with a piercing gaze, and it sends another spark through you, getting you close to the edge again. 

Keeping up the pace between your thighs as much as you can, you keep your eyes on Dave and lick up his thick shaft, tasting more precum as well as Dee’s drool. Dee moves over enough for you to move your mouth to Dave’s tip, and you take it in, sucking and using your tongue to flick the head of it. With the combination of your impending orgasm and Dave’s husky taste on your tongue, your entire body feels fuzzy and light.

“Oh, shit,” Dave grunts and places his hand on your head, gently pushing you further onto him. Dee moves lower and starts to nip and suck as Dave’s heavy balls. You can hear the furious slapping sound of Dieter getting himself off, see the way his cheeks start to gain more color as he gets closer to the edge. 

Dave starts to thrust into you, your lips stretching around his girth. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag, your eyes filling with tears. It’s almost hard to focus on the intrusion, however, when you have the pleasant, heated sensation swirling in your lower abdomen. You’re almost cross-eyed by the time Dieter comes back up and starts to lick at Dave’s length when you’re pulled off. 

Dave’s panting heavily now, a sure sign that he’s getting close. A surge of panic floods through you, and you move your hand even quicker, whining in relief once you know you’re going to be able to come. You’re so close. You switch with Dee, who now has his moans being choked by Dave’s cock, and start to lick at Dave’s balls. 

The symphony of noises coming from the three of you is loud. The slap of skin on skin where Dee fists his cock, the breathy moans and curses spilling off of Dave’s tongue, the gargles coming from Dee’s throat, the keens from you. 

You all finish at the same time, groans and growls filling the bedroom as you and Dee are tugged back, coming on your hands as your mouths fall open and your eyes close in pure bliss. The pleasure races through you, forcing you back on your haunches even as you keep up your movements to ride out your high. Dave’s salty cum paints your face, and you don’t have to look to know Dee is receiving the same treatment. 

You wait until you’re sure all of you are done before you open your eyes. You all breathe heavily, you and Dee sinking down to your asses and leaning against the side of the bed as Dave crouches down in front of you. He watches both of you, savoring the sight of you both so fucked out and wearing his seed. 

One at a time, he leans forward and kisses your heads. “I’m going to go get some towels and water,” he says, his voice gentle now. Dee nods and scootches close to you, snuggling up even though you’re still on the floor and your bodies are sticky with sweat. You smile, again reminded of how lucky you are to be so close to these two. Dave just shakes his head at the two of you.

“Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” he jokes. 

Yeah, right. Dieter will probably be falling asleep again in the thirty seconds it’ll take him to get back.

***** Want to read more requests or submit your own? Try this link!

[wolfythewitch]

Jon sketch

[thesummerestsolstice]

I love it when Elrond is portrayed as someone who is a little bit incomprehensible to most of the elves at first. Not even just because he's a half-elf, but because he reminds them all of so many other people, and that layering can be kind of jarring.

He sings beautifully, with a voice that sounds like no elf or man, and it reminds many of the Sindar of Luthien. It reminds some of the Noldor of someone else, another singer with raven-dark hair and starry gray eyes.

The braids he does his hair in– and he always keeps it braided at first, because letting it run loose is another thing that makes people whisper of Luthien– are in the traditional Noldor style. The survivors of Gondolin love that; Turgon always wore his hair in classical styles too. The other part of the House of Finwe that clung to traditional braids goes unmentioned. But everyone knows.

And he was clearly taught about court manners; taught to be gracious and charming, and a very good listener. The elf who could have taught Elrond those things is usually skipped over entirely, in favor of those reminiscing about Idril's graceful poise or Melian's endless patience.

He looks very much like Luthien, but there is a particular Finwean sharpness in his facial structure; something that makes him look a lot like Fingolfin, as well. Fingolfin looked very much like his father. And his older brother.

His smile is just like Earendil's (whose smile is just like Tuor's), and his strange, birdlike laugh is from Elwing. He fights and writes with his left hand– but then, so did Earendil, because while all elves are right-handed, not all humans or half-elves are. He eats no meat– just like Beren, they say, but the way Elrond tells it the choice had nothing to do with that history. There is ainuric power in him and something very human in the set of his shoulders. The flowers grow around any place he stays long enough. He gets sick in a way no elf, and certainly no maia, ever would. His accent is odd, and archaic, and changes noticeably when he's too tired to obscure it. His mannerisms are a mixture of about twelve people, almost all of whom are dead, and several of whom are not spoken of by the time he shows up in Gil-Galad's camp.

And the reflections of Elrond unsettle a lot of people; because one moment they see a fallen hero or loved one, and the next they see the person that took them. Or perhaps someone else, that they never knew at all. There is reverence and fear and uncertainty. It's messy.

Elrond himself is coming to peace with this by the War of Wrath. There is love in carrying the parts of your ancestors with you, even when they aren't around any more. And he knows better than anyone that he is always himself, first and foremost. Still, it takes everyone else a while to stop seeing a ghost and start seeing Elrond.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess

shoutout to @that-random-fangirl

Masterpost

The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 

So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 

The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 

So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.

The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.

“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 

“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 

“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.

“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.

They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 

“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”

“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.

Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.

“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”

“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 

Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.

“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.

“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”

Now with part 3!

[gimmeurtmi]

no nut november — han (loser #1)

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, ot8 inclusive, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, open conversations about sex as an impulse/need, insecure reader for a bit, fingering, oral ( f + m receiving), slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, needy!jisung,

inspo: kaili’s brain <33

notes: @sluttywonwoo and i are finally collabing after like five years :’). i’m so so hyped for this one!!! make sure to tell us what you think and place your bets on the winner🥰 😉

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 5246 }

jisung and his friends were close. very close. they saw each other practically every day and would share everything with each other. it was something he cherished deeply, and he loved just how jisung he could be around them.

they never made him feel like he was too much—unlike most of the people he grew up with, and they even indulged him when he’d start talking about his niche interests or when he shared a new song he wrote. they were always supportive.

maybe to a fault.

“so, even though we can’t grow facial hair,” chan concluded, “i think it would be nice if we could at least make a donation to the charity.”

“what charity?” seungmin asked.

“weren’t you listening?” changbin yelled.

“no,” the younger said easily.

“hyung was explaining to us about movember,” felix recaps. seungmin just shrugs.

“i could grow facial hair if i tried,” he challenges.

“that’s not the point!” chan shakes his head. “will you guys make a donation with me or not?”

they all mumbled their affirmations.

“why is it in november?” jeongin quips.

chan just shrugs. “every months has things attached to it, i suppose.”

“november has another thing,” minho says, plainly.

“there’s national cappuccino day,” seungmin agrees with a nod.

“and fried chicken day!” changbin adds.

“yeah, and there’s a challenge to write a whole novel in the month of november,” hyunjin says softly.

“yeah,” jisung says, tone serious as he leans forward, “you’re forgetting the most important one. no nut november.”

minho smirks at him as the pair of friends exchange a look that says ‘you read my mind’.

“yeah, right,” chan chuckles, “the other ones sound like real things though.”

“it’s a real thing!” jisung defends.

“no, it’s not,” chan just shakes his head.

“it is!”

“do you know anyone who actually does it rather than posting stupid memes about it?”

“me,” jisung shrugs confidently.

the room fills with a chorus of laughter so loud, jisung sits there with a shocked face at the reaction he just got.

well, fine, he doesn’t do it. he’s never done it. he’s never even thought about it. but chan doesn’t need to know that, does he?

“why?” jisung said once the laughter calmed down, a few minutes after he last spoke.

“you’re trying to say you’re not going to have sex or do anything for a whole month?” seungmin tried to clarify.

“yeah, why?”

“it’s just…” he holds back his laughter, “…i don’t think you’re capable of that.”

“hey!” jisung exclaims. “i’m not an animal, i can go a month without sex.”

“oh, we all know that,” hyunjin laughs, “we’ve seen you go through a year long dry spell before you found y/n. but you got off every fucking day.”

“uh—i don’t—why do you know that?” jisung could feel himself blushing.

“we share a wall.”

the boys laugh harder. jisung can’t stop himself from cringing.

“hyunjin, please never say that again,” he tries to brush off.

“maybe you can not have sex for a whole month,” minho chuckles, “but you can’t go that long with nothing.”

“it’s not that hard!” jisung insists, unable to accept the fact his friends think so little of him and his self control.

“it is!” chan adds, “we’re used to doing stuff like that all the time, we can’t just stop.”

“yeah,” changbin agrees, leaning forward to give jisung the kind of look he gives him when he’s trying to encourage him. “none of us could do that.”

“hey!” felix quips up, just as seungmin puts his hand up.

“speak for yourself!” the younger adds.

“yeah!” jeongin nods firmly.

“you guys think you could go a whole month?” chan raises an eyebrow at his friends.

“i could, too,” hyunjin shrugs plainly.

“first of all, this isn’t fair,” minho leans closer, as if evaluating the situation. “innie is single. he’s used to not getting any,”

“—hey!—“

“—and most of you have girlfriends so you can’t just decide to do this without telling them.”

“most of us?” changbin quotes back at minho, “like you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“she’s just as competitive as i am, so she’ll do it just to show you guys we’re the best.”

“the best at not getting any?” jisung quips with a raise of his brow. the boys snicker.

“yah!” minho exclaims. “don’t start with me!”

“maybe minho is so confident because she never lets him get it anyway,” seungmin laughs.

“you think i can’t get some?” minho squares up, acting as if he’s about to take out his phone and prove his friends wrong.

“uh,” chan tries, hands up, “i think we’re getting off track here?”

“let’s put money on it,” jisung offers. he’s joking, well, kinda.

now that the boys have all doubted him, while simultaneously agreeing they’d be better than him at something, he has to prove them wrong. even if it is only trivial and honestly pretty stupid. jisung is never not the best.

“how much?” felix rubs his hands together.

“enough for the winner to get a nice weekend away with his partner,” hyunjin suggests, “minho’s got a point. they’ll have to go through it too so might as well treat them.”

“and what does innie get?” seungmin can’t help but ask.

“i’m single, too,” changbin croaks.

“you’re not,” chan rolls his eyes. “being too scared to establish the relationship doesn’t make you single.”

changbin smiles sheepishly at the raised brows around him, trying to ignore the pointed looks his friends are giving him.

“yeah, when are you going to just ask her to be your girlfriend? we’ve all met her already and we love her,” felix encourages with a soft smile.

“why is this about me?” he yells back. “tell jeongin to get his shit together and ask his crush out!”

“that can be his prize. a getaway that’s the perfect excuse to ask her out,” chan offers with a smile.

“so, agreed? no sex for a month and winner gets a weekend away with their lover, undefined partner, or unrequited crush, as a prize,” minho concludes.

“it’s not just sex,” felix points out, “no, uh, fireworks at all.”

“it’s called orgasms, yongbok,” seungmin says bluntly.

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, his cheeks dusted pink, “no orgasms.”

“we should exclude jisung from this,” hyunjin smirks, “since he was gonna do it anyway.”

“poor y/n,” seungmin tsks, “at least our girlfriends will get something nice for this torture.”

“hey hey hey!” jisung lets out quickly, barely breathing as he goes on, “if anything as your inspiration and true role model i should be part of this bet, too. and i’ll have you know i take amazing care of my girlfriend whether i sleep with her or not and no, sleeping with me is not it’s own kind of torture,” he says quickly, before seungmin and minho can say what’s so clearly on their minds.

they both let out a disappointed grunt at his words—confirming jisung knows them far too well.

“but we have to tell them we’re doing this,” chan confirms, “i don’t keep stuff from her and like minho said, it’s just cruel not to tell them.”

they all agree.

jeongin curls in on himself ever so slightly, before he says, “maybe just hyungs should do this, then. i don’t have a girlfriend so it’s an unfair advantage.”

“as the youngest your hormones are most active, so if anything it’ll be harder for you,” hyunjin says, comforting his friend.

what a weird way to comfort someone, jisung thinks. and then he says it out loud.

“it was actually very comforting, thank you,” jeongin glared at jisung, “but it’s fine. i don’t have to be part of the bet. i’d have no one to take to the getaway either.”

“don’t worry,” minho says quickly, “you’re playing. we’re not letting you sit this out just because you haven’t had the chance to make a move on that girl.”

“but—“

“—the more of us play, the harder it is. more people you need to outlive.”

“outlive?” jisung repeats with a gulp. minho simply nods at him, his face expressionless.

“right, shake on it!” chan announces, and all eight of the boys put their hands in the middle of the circle, each grabbing at one or two people’s fingers.

november 2nd

why did jisung ever agree to this? why did he even bring it up?

this was stupid. this was so so stupid. you haven’t had the chance to come over since the month started, and well, jisung got too distracted and engulfed by your presence that he didn’t have a chance to bring the bet up just yet. he didn’t know how to say it, either.

“i bet a romantic getaway with my friends on us not having sex for a month,” felt like a stupid thing to say. well, it was stupid. stupid!

it felt borderline ridiculous when you snuggled up closer to him on the couch, back flush to his chest as you played the next movie on your scary marathon list. halloween was over, but both you and jisung agreed there were far too many good ones to just stop once the holiday was over, so jisung was happy to let you keep working through the list the pair of you curated on your letterbox account.

“you’re so warm,” you said happily, moving in closer to his embrace. jisung planted a small kiss on the back of your neck, squeezing you tighter as you sighed.

“i love being like this with you,” you mumbled, moving your head to the side enough to plant a soft kiss on his equally soft cheeks.

“squeezed to your death?” jisung teased, squeezing at your stomach and your hips, where his hands were casually wrapped around you.

you let out a dramatic huff before you giggled at him, curling a hand underneath his bicep to push his arms away from you. he only let his grip loosen, but didn’t dare move away too much. you kept your fingers around his bicep, slowly pressing into the muscle.

“ji, all the time you spend away from me at the gym really paid off,” you mumbled, leaning down to kiss at his bicep softly.

jisung smiled timidly.

“uh, thanks,” he cleared his throat.

“i feel so safe in your strong arms,” you added.

“why do scary movies always make you horny?” jisung asked.

“what?” you chuckled, “i’m not horny?”

“you are feeling me up,” he pointed out, his chin gesturing at your fingers and the way they wrapped around his muscles.

“i can’t admire the artwork?” you huffed.

“there’s admiring, and there’s drooling,” he said, eyebrows raised.

“since when are you so cocky,” you sighed.

“does that turn you on, too?” jisung smirked. he was moving into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it when it was you. there was something so enticing about flirting with you, especially when you were sat so snuggly in between his legs.

“for the record, everything you do is a turn on.”

jisung swallowed. it didn’t go unnoticed to him that your thighs spread ever so slightly since this exchange started, or that you were much closer to his chest than you were a few moments ago. he had to keep it clean. “focus on your film, honey.”

you two still exchanged kisses, you still fed jisung snacks in between jump scares, you still laughed at all the kills together. so, it was just like any other movie night.

except it wasn’t—for the very reason you were pointing out now.

“jisung,” you began, tilting your head to the side slightly as he sat back down on the bed. he cleaned his room from the snacks and came back quickly, but it was enough time to for you to realise what happened.

“jisung? who the fuck is jisung?” he knitted his eyebrows together. “what’s wrong?”

“are you upset with me?”

his face reminded you of a surprised cartoon character, his mouth a perfect circle as his eyebrows met his hair.

“what? no, no. why? why?”

“it’s just,” you blushed, causing jisung to grab both your hands and trail his thumbs against your wrist soothingly. “we’ve never ever had a movie night without your hands down my pants.”

jisung laughed.

“stop,” you groaned. “i’m being serious.”

“my baby! my sweet sweet baby,” he teased, getting closer and closer to your face with his signature shit eating grin.

“it’s like an instinct you have, jisung. we watch a movie and you touch me. it was really weird that you didn’t.”

“stop calling me jisung,” he scoffed, “i’m not your friend.”

“you are now, since friends usually have normal, non-pussy-touching movie nights together all the time!”

“so you didn’t get touched for one movie and i’ve been bumped back down to friend status?” jisung gasped.

“i don’t know, have i?” you counter.

jisung notices the way you don’t quite let him hold your hands, the way that gorgeous glint in your eyes isn’t there. he isn’t too sure you’re just joking about this.

“hey,” he says softly, “are you being serious?”

you nod softly. “did i do something wrong?”

“why would you think that?” jisung exclaimed, pulling you closer to him. “where is this coming from?”

“is it because i didn’t put perfume on today? i know i’ve been getting more comfortable around you, i’m sorry i haven’t put a lot of effort in today i just thought we were gonna have a chill night so i didn’t wear my best clothes and—“

“—hey! hey! stop that now,” jisung shakes his head quickly. “i love that you’re comfortable around me.”

“it’s just, i don’t know, jisung. you’re always—“

“—can you not call me that—“

“—you’re always touching me in some sort of way and then i don’t see you for a week and you’re just not anymore?”

“why are you insecure? you know i love you,” jisung emphasised with all his might, his figure slumping until he met your gaze. you wouldn’t look in his eyes.

“it’s okay if you just weren’t in the mood,” you say quickly, realising your insecurities were indeed leading your train of thought. you owed it to jisung to be understanding—even if his behaviour was painfully uncharacteristic. “i just never see you not in the mood.”

“you’re making me out to be some sort of pervert,” jisung jokes, trying to get you to laugh. or at least let him hold your hand.

“but you’re my pervert,” you pout at him, causing his insides to crunch at the sight.

you always made him weak—and he was holding everything inside him not to tease you during the movie like he always did. but it was only his first try, he couldn’t lose already. and if he touched you, jisung knew he wouldn’t wanna stop until you were both spent and satisfied. he thought so hard about that, he didn’t stop to consider how you might see it. or the fact he never fucking told you.

“i made a bet with the boys,” jisung said quickly.

“huh?”

“we’re doing no nut november so i tried not to touch you because i don’t wanna lose on the second day,” he said in one big breath.

“that was too fast, rapper boy,” you pointed out, unable to catch half the words he said.

jisung repeated himself, slowly, feeling the blush creep up his neck as he spoke clearly and carefully.

“what did you bet on?”

he felt his eyes gap again. that was your first question?

“a romantic getaway for the couple that wins.”

“and where will changbin go for his getaway, do you think?”

“what?” he gasped. “i’m taking you on a romantic getaway.”

“no, you’re not,” you laughed, amused at his incredulous face.

“what does that mean?”

“ji,” you giggled, lacing your fingers together, “i have never met anyone as insatiable as you. even if you can somehow hold off sex for a month, you really think your impatient dick will be able to stay calm for that long?”

jisung felt heat rushing all over his body, coursing through him then all the way down to his crotch.

“i’m sorry i made you feel insecure,” he tries to change the subject, ignoring just how dry his mouth felt all of a sudden, “please never doubt how much i’m obsessed with you.”

you smiled at his words, nodding in acceptance.

you lean forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

jisung wanted to make it up to you, he wanted to make sure you had no doubt at all about how crazy he was about you—he wanted you to know this was just about the bet.

so he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as you sighed contently.

he ran a hand down your back, slowly, cupping your ass softly as he felt you smiling against his lips.

“so obsessed with you,” he mumbles into the kiss, “so obsessed.”

“i’m obsessed with you too,” you sigh, unable to quite finish your sentence before jisung slips his tongue past your lips.

the kiss is still soft, jisung’s tongue moving slowly against yours, but his movements are more urgent as he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

“my perfect, perfect girlfriend,” he sighs, kissing down your jaw.

jisung wants you. he wants you really bad. and he can have you. why not? the rule is, as felix put it, no fireworks. jisung is not the kind of man that can only have sex if he cums. he can just focus on you. he’ll just take care of you. that’s allowed.

“can i make it up to you?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he moves your hair away from your face.

“how?” you cock your head to the side.

“i’ll touch you now, give you what you so clearly missed out on,” he chuckled.

you nodded instantly, biting your lip.

“you sure you can?” you ask, no hint of teasing in your words. you know how competitive jisung is, and you also know he really doesn’t have much self control. you wouldn’t want him to lose just because you were feeling a little insecure lately.

“yeah,” he nods. confidently.

you lean down to kiss him again.

jisung doesn’t waste any time pulling your sweats down your legs and helping you shimmy out of them. he slowly presses you down onto your back, pushing at each knee to keep your legs open for him.

he trailed his finger up your thighs, slowly, smirking at the way your eyes fluttered at his action. he’s still jisung, so he’s still a fucking tease, and he circled your lips once and twice, bringing his finger in between your folds casually.

before you think to protest, he dips the tip of his finger inside you, his eyes gleaming at the squelching noise. it’s only the tip of his index finger, but it’s enough to make you want more—so you buck your hips up in a silent request.

jisung leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hipbone.

“don’t get needy,” he warned, “you know we shouldn’t be going crazy.”

you nod, taking in a deep breath as you focus on the feeling your boyfriend is giving you right now. you know you shouldn’t be greedy.

jisung is spread out in front of you, his whole body on the bed—face in front of your exposed pussy.

he leans his head against your thigh, kissing at the soft skin as his eyes fixate on his fingers—slowly, shallowly, going in and out.

“faster,” you dare.

jisung obeyed instantly, the tip of his finger tapping in and out of your entrance in quick shallow motions.

“ji, fuck baby,” you start chanting, breathing fast as the pleasure starts to consume you.

“more?” jisung raises his eyebrows at you, his smile big and cheeky as a sense of pride follows his movements.

“please, please more,” you pleaded.

jisung climbed up your body as he kissed around your collarbone, planting kiss after kiss after kiss before he pulled your shirt down enough to expose your bare chest.

“no bra?” he gasps.

“i said i was more comfortable around you,” you shrugged.

“fuck, baby,” he chuckled, “be as comfortable as you want.”

he grabbed your tit, kneading the skin before he rolled your nipple in between his fingers—a loud moan escaping you. jisung leaned down, sucking the sensitive bud as you grabbed onto his soft hair.

“ji,” you moaned, “fuck, please. please.”

“what?” he asked, almost genuinely. he knew you quite well at this point and he was doing everything you taught him you liked. what was he missing?

“want you,” you sighed.

“i’m here,” he smirked up at you, kissing your lips softly before turning his attention back to your nipples—tongue moving fast against it.

“can you, uh, would it be okay if you—“ you stuttered, unsure exactly how to ask for what you wanted. usually you just told jisung to fuck you, but you didn’t want to ask that now. still, you weren’t quite sure how to word your next request.

“what is it, baby?”

“can you use your mouth?” you blushed. but jisung didn’t even stop to tease you about it—and instead buried his face in between your thighs without a second to spare.

you squealed at the coolness of his tongue, taken aback by just how fast he was going from the start.

jisung was good at a lot of things—but you didn’t think anyone could possibly be so good at giving head. he proved just how good he was at it every chance he got, and now, he was determined to prove that point one more time.

your fingers carded in his hair, pulling at the strands as he placed his tongue flat against your clit—moving it in a pulsing pattern against the sensitive bud.

you’ve never been with anyone who ate pussy like him.

you weren’t even sure what you were saying, too lost in the feeling to realise you were chanting your boyfriend’s name like a prayer, mixed in with a few swear words and some questionable noises.

but it was driving jisung insane.

he loved knowing he was making you feel good, he loved the compliments that tumbled out of your mouth without you even realising it, he loved how you always said how good he was when he made you cum.

he couldn’t remember the last time you were this loud for him.

as you tugged on his hair again, pulling him even closer to your cunt, jisung grunted. he was rolling his hips into the mattress.

“fuck baby,” he pulled away slightly, catching his breath for a moment, “i’m gonna lose my fucking mind soon.”

he kept rutting into the mattress as he sucked on your clit, moaning against your body and causing another set of swear words to leave your lips.

“such a filthy fucking mouth,” he let out, his eyes hooded slightly as he looked up at you, his hips still rolling against the mattress. “how does someone so pretty sound so dirty?”

“ji,” you whimpered, “ji, your mouth is so good.”

“yeah,” he sighed before getting back to his task.

after a few moments, both of you rolling your hips in search of more friction, you started to whine.

“i’m close, i’m so close,” you said softly.

jisung knew you needed more to be able to cum, and although he could’ve just used his fingers—he was desperate for more, too.

so he climbed up your body and rolled his sweats down his thighs.

“what are you doing?” you asked quickly.

“just let me feel how warm you are,” he all but sobbed, “just for a little bit.”

“are you sure?” you checked, glancing down at his dick. he was swollen, hard, and the tip glistened with precum. you weren’t sure he would stop after a little bit, especially considering he was practically humping the bed until now.

“wanna feel how warm you are baby,” he repeated, kissing your neck, “please. i’ll stop if i get too close.”

you nodded at him. it was all you wanted too, to feel the stretch of his cock inside you, but you could tell jisung wasn’t thinking clearly as soon as you noticed just how blown his pupils were.

either way—how could you care about the stupid bet he made with his friends when the prettiest boy in the world was begging to put his cock inside you?

jisung lined himself up easily, his strong hands on either side of your shoulders before he pushed himself all the way inside you.

the pair of you groaned in unison.

“so fucking tight,” he sighed, “so wet.”

“it’s from how good you are at eating me out,” you moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

“can i move?” he asked, his nose bumping against your chin before he kissed you sloppily.

“it’s up to you, baby,” you nodded.

jisung thrust up into you. hard.

you yelped.

“more,” you couldn’t help but ask.

jisung repeated his actions, once and then twice, and then he was rubbing your clit fast.

“oh my god,” you moaned, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

jisung wouldn’t dream of stopping, not when you looked so good underneath him, moaning and grunting and biting your lip in pleasure.

he was focusing as best he could on thinking about literally anything else to push his own high as far away as he could.

he could do it. he could make you cum on his cock without losing. he knew he could do it.

and soon, your moans were getting high pitched and longer and then—

“i’m cumming!” you announced breathily, and jisung shut his eyes. it was one thing feeling you clench and pulse around him while keeping his focus, but he couldn’t possibly look at your blissed out face right now. he needed to focus.

once he felt you calm down, heard that little sigh you let out as soon as you relax, he knew it was safe to open his eyes.

“ji,” you chuckled, “that was fucking amazing.”

you kiss him, hand cradling his cheeks as you pepper more kisses around his face.

“happy to be of service,” he smirked at you. pride coated his shoulders as he kissed your cheek.

he actually fucking did it.

he took a moment to appreciate your expression, the sweat on your forehead, the way you were still taking in big breaths, your messy hair.

“fuck, i’m so lucky,” he let out. you chuckled in response.

“can i—would you be okay if i did the thing?” you asked, shyly.

only recently did the pair of you discover you both loved tasting your own release on each other. jisung would eat you out almost every time he came inside you, and you loved sucking him off after he fucked you. it wasn’t like you had to do it—but since this discovery, your aftercare reached a new level of hot.

“sure,” jisung nodded, laying down on the bed beside you after he slowly pulled out.

“tell me if i need to stop,” you said before kissing his lips.

“don’t worry, honey,” he smiled, “i got this.”

you nodded before sliding down his body.

you licked his tip softly, testing the waters, and hummed at the taste. the saltiness and your own taste combined together as you took more and more of his dick into your mouth.

you licked the shiny part of his thighs where a bit got away, sucking a small bruise into the skin. and then you licked his balls, and then you took all of him inside you.

jisung was quiet the whole time, his face scrunched in concentration. he wouldn’t even look at you.

“baby, you’re okay?” you asked, rubbing his thigh soothingly as you licked his tip slowly—still tasting yourself on his warm dick.

“yeah, baby, all good,” he grunted as he shut his eyes.

you took that as a sign you could keep going, and tried your hardest not to tease him too much. you just wanted to clean him off.

“there we go, my love,” you hummed, “all done.”

jisung opened his eyes with a smile, bringing a hand into your hair.

“thanks, baby,” he smiled, visibly relaxing in front of you.

“you did so well, ji,” you smiled, “so patient and calm for me. you’re gonna win this for us.”

you gleamed up at him, a big smile on your lips, and instinctively you found yourself bringing your hand around him as you stroked him twice.

“wait, wait, wait,” he said frantically—waving his hands at you.

but before you could question that kind of reaction, or even respond, his thighs had contracted in front of you as cum shot onto his stomach.

it was too late now, so you made sure he at least enjoyed it, stroking him in a pace you knew he liked as you watched the pleasure sink into his body.

“fuck!” he let out as he came down his high. “two fucking days?”

“i don’t understand what just happened,” you chuckled, sitting up. “was it something i said?”

“i shouldn’t have looked at you,” jisung groaned, bringing his hands up to rub his face. “your stupid cute smile.”

“really?” you giggled, “you could fuck me through an orgasm but me smiling at you was the last straw?”

“you know what,” jisung chuckled, grabbing the pillow next to him and launching it at you, “i wish you would bump me down to friend status.”

“you don’t mean that, jisung,” you smirked, reaching over to his bedside table for some tissues. you helped him clean up his now ruined shirt as the pair of you laughed.

jisung leaned up to kiss you, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

“don’t call me that,” he whined as you pulled away.

“so like, i’m not allowed to call you by your legal name, i can’t smile at you, anything else?”

jisung rolled his eyes at you with a grin, leaning up to kiss you—tasting everything you cleaned up on your lips.

“two fucking days,” he mumbled again as he pulled away.

“get over it, ji,” you chuckled.

jisung huffed at himself, running a hand through his hair before he pulled his shirt off, letting you cuddle into him as the pair of you sighed into each other’s embrace.

his phone buzzed at that—pulling you away from your momentary post sex bliss as jisung read over the text.

minho: so how is movie night going? 😌

jisung: fuck you

“don’t worry, baby,” you said as you giggled at the texts on his screen, “the boys will never find out it was only two days.”

jisung grumbled at that.

“minho is a dick. and we all know he’s gonna win it, too.”

“sure, sure,” you patted his chest, thinking did it really matter that much? “i’m sure whoever wins will use their gift wisely.”

“oh wait, shit,” he exclaimed. you looked up at him curiously. “we were all busy the week of his birthday so chan said i need to plan a party for next week. will you help me?”

“of course, jisung,” you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“stop calling me that!” he chuckled, eyes wide as he shook you around by your shoulders.

you decided kissing him would calm him down, and it did—the pair of you kissing until you were both too tired to go on.

[room-surprise]

How Old Is Thistle?

(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)

I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.

We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.

Here's what we know:

EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.

Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:

Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.

16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.

An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.

Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.

An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.

Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")

Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!

They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.

Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.

Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.

So, how old is Thistle?

(Spoilers below the cut)

Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.

EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.

He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.

Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.

(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)

Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.

Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.

So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...

Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.

HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.

I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.

If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.

However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).

I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.

This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:

Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.

And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!

And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!

So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!

[lovings4turn]

★ hedgehog . . . (oscar piastri)

— when he reunites with his girlfriend, oscar quickly learns that his attempt at a new look has one huge downfall

+ aka. becca saw the pics of oscar's new stubble and struggled to be normal about it !! very short n sweet n silly, but i hope you enjoy regardless lovelies <3 banner from cafekitsune !!

"hey bab- oh."

oscar pulls away from your hug with a confused expression, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into the slightest pout. he looks down at you and scans your face, before turning his scrutiny onto his own form, trying to find an answer for your unusual reaction.

you haven't seen oscar in about a week now, and normally, you're all over him, not an inch of his face nor neck left untouched with your kisses. yet you're currently standing in front of him with an almost dazed expression on your face, arms still linked around his neck from your hug.

before he can open his mouth and allow a nervous question to trickle from his lips, you speak up for him, your knuckles coming to graze against his jaw.

"this is new," you hum, tilting your hand to grant your pinky finger the chance to trace the growing stubble that dusts oscar's upper lip.

his nose scrunches, and his amused exhale hits your fingertips as he lets out a laugh at the tickle.

"how have you hidden this from me?" you continue, your voice taking on a teasing tone. "been on facetime to you almost every day and i didn't even notice."

oscar lifts his own hand to scratch at his jaw, the feeling of coarse hair against his fingertips becoming more familiar with each passing day. it's by no means a full beard, god no. it's glorified stubble, scruff you might have called it. but it's the most facial hair you've seen oscar with since... well, ever.

"yeah, i'm uh, trying something out, i guess," he says with a slight laugh, looking down at you to gauge your reaction. "couldn't be bothered to shave one night and just thought i'd see what it was like."

though his tone is casual, his heart pounds a little faster as he tries to detect any form of opinion radiating from your body language. oscar wishes he was a mind reader right now, able to tell exactly how you feel about the slight stubble without having to ask you outright.

the answer seems to satisfy you, and your lips curve up into a smile as you lean in to finally pepper soft kisses to his face.

oscar stoops down a little to grant you access to his forehead and temple, and you press another kiss to his nose before moving to attach your lips to his.

the kiss is tender, full of love, and bordering on passionate as oscar's tongue swipes at your bottom lip in a silent question. he hardly realises you're pulling away until he's forced to chase after your lips unsuccessfully.

his breathing is a little shallow as he speaks.

"why'd you stop?"

the question almost comes out as a whine, and it takes a lot for you not to tease him about it.

"y'scratching me a bit," you admit with an amused tone, nibbling at your bottom lip. "y'know, with the hair. 's a bit like i'm kissing a hedgehog" you clarify, rubbing at the skin of your own top lip as if to add emphasis.

oscar's mouth opens in a silent oh, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he puts two and two together. coarse hair plus friction against your own skin is definitely not an award winning combination for you, and oscar sees no more need for experimentation.

"gimme a minute to shave this off, sweetheart," oscar promises with a crooked grin, already making his way to the bathroom. "then you can give me a proper kiss, hm?"

[hollowdeath]

i recently came across your blog and i’m literally in love

i’m here because i can’t stop thinking about (adult) soft dom harry that tries to stay gentle but can’t hold himself back :(( brainrot is real

honestly do what u will with this i’m just happy to share it

AAA now you're speakin my language here !!! i will GLADLYYY sit here all day n think abt this one…

content warning: smut!!!! oral sex, penetration, 18+

word count: 750

soft dom harry who wants to let you know he's in the mood by asking you if you'd like a back rub, a foot massage, anything where he can just get his hands on you…once he does he can't help but let his hands wander, his lips following soon after, and he'd quickly get carried away and have you covered in bites before you even realize it…

harry would be so eager to get your clothes off he'd nearly rip them off you as you giggle, telling him to slow down with a teasing voice. he'd be a bit ashamed at first, apologizing with a shy smile before being more careful with you, savoring the feeling of taking your clothes off of you. but if your panties are in the way, he feels no remorse in roughly ripping them off of you to get what he wants.

everyone already knows how i feel about harry and oral…he'll be soooo teasingly slow with you at first, loving the way you squirm and beg for more just before he completely loses himself in your pussy. he'll overstimulate you after you already came to the point of desperation, practically having to push him away from you just to get a moment of rest. he'd still want more, sometimes even convincing you to let him keep going despite your exhaustion. but it's okay because he lovesss to tell you just how much of a good girl you were afterwards, praising you endlessly while holding you close to him to calm down your trembling body.

or, if you gave harry oral, he'd hold your face with his hand as you got started. "so pretty," he'd tell you, encouraging you with his moans and praise. soon he'd get lost in the pleasure, his hand traveling from your cheek to your hair as he starts gently moving it out of the way for you. before long he has all of it completely wrapped around his hand, using it to push your head a bit faster and deeper onto him. his hips would thrust into your mouth out of desperation and cause you to gag. pulling your hair back, he'd carefully make sure you were okay, really okay, before pushing your mouth back onto his cock with the same force as before.

harry being afraid to hurt you as you adjust to his cock inside of you, carefully watching your facial expressions as he slowly pushes deeper into you, the hunger in him growing the longer he looks at you. after you start moaning, whimpering, grabbing for harry's shoulders, he knows you're enjoying yourself and starts to let his guard down, thrusting at a consistent pace before pulling you in for a heated kiss. from there he just falls apart, his grip on you bruising the skin, his thrusts aggressive and sloppy, his teeth sinking into your neck in the most vulnerable places. he's like an animal just chasing his high, using you for his pleasure.

you try not to whimper too loud because then harry comes out of his state of bliss, realizing how aggressive he's being with you before slowing back down. you'd always beg him please, please harry, it's okay, because you secretly love how overcome with lust he gets with you. but he really doesn't want to hurt you, so he tries to stay focused, but we know he just can't help himself…as soon as his eyes droop closed you know he's desperate again, burying his head in your neck as he practically growls into your skin. "fuck, [y/n], feel so good…"

it's not long before harry's pounding into you, waves of pleasure taking over his body. sweating, gasping for breath, hands digging into your hips as he warns you that he's about to cum. sometimes he's aware enough to pull out and finish on you, but other times he's truly so lost in the moment that he cums inside you, his hips flush with yours as you savor the sensation. though he's always a bit flustered afterwards, making sure to ask you plenty of times if you're okay, or if he hurt you, or if you need anything. once he knows you're good, he'll instantly start getting ready for round two because he just can't get enough of you.

[thankyouthankyouthankyou for sending this in, this is pretty much exactly what all of my daydreams of harry consist of lol]

[setsugekka]

❥déjà rêvé (m)

↳ When your best friend marries her stuffy, stuck-up, long-time boyfriend, you swallow your feelings and put your reservations aside to support her...

...and when your erotic imagination takes hold of you one night in relation to him, you’re thankful for the fact that your friend is able to laugh it off.

Unfortunately, you’re not able to let it go as easily.

kim doyoung x fem!reader — enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [17.7k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, social smoking. sexual content: bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, unprotected penetrative sex (v+a), oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.

Seven years.

 Watching as your best friend now sat in glee as hired hair and makeup help dart around her to make sure that every strand, every eyelash be perfectly in place for her big day, you realize that now, after so long, it's difficult to even really recall the first few times that she started bringing him around. You remember the first night she mentioned him — a careful slide of a photo of him into the group chat, followed by the usual 'he looks better in person' commentary — although hilariously unnecessary given that the man stunning even back then.

You did, however, wish that his looks had translated more into his personality.

Unfortunately, it was no mystery the way that you and Doyoung did not get on. Never culminating into blow-out fights, or a need to pick sides, or even the ruining of an evening or vacation: But it was there. Petty jabs and comments slung about, backhanded slips of the tongue coming from either side at a moments notice — something that, earlier on, came to be of much contention between you, Mina, and her now husband-to-be. Over time, however, with the relationship growing, evolving, and coming to terms with the fact that this man most likely to remain in your life for as long as Mina would be, you decide on doing the only thing that a good, supportive, friend can do in such circumstances.

After all, you weren't the one marrying him, and thank fuck for that.

  "How do I look?"

Nearly tear-filled eyes looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror as you stand behind your best friend of a decade and more, you offer a tight-lipped smile back to her — in an effort to keep it together, really, you'd rather not cry your makeup off, as well.

"You look amazing, he's lucky," you begin genuinely before switching to a more playful tone. "And he better remember that, because I'll be watching."

With a sway of her hand, Mina shoos you away equally playfully and laughing through the fact that she was surely just about to start crying. "This long and you guys are still like this, are you ever going to get over it?"

"Is he ever going to stop being a pretentious douche? Because all signs point to 'no.'"

Cocking her head as if to say 'give me a break,' your bestie sighs audibly at the much anticipated response from you in regards to the matter.

"He's a good man."

You nod. "I know. He's good to you and, well — good enough to me, so I'll allow it, I suppose."

Would you choose to spend time with Doyoung if not for Mina; if not for the fact that he be obviously and irrevocably in love with her and treat her as such every moment of everyday? No.

But the rest of it sort of makes up for that fact.

One of the perks of having Kim Doyoung around is the money.

Of course, Mina doing well enough for herself that she need not rest on the laurels of a man, but marrying this one be far from a bad choice as far as financials go. A hard worker all through high school and college and landing a fancy, high-paying career gig straight out — only a few weeks after the wedding, the two bought a house together — an expensive, modern home a little bit on the outskirts of the city but not too far away as to make it inconvenient, glass paneling, black marble, and perfectly shined platinum stainless steel; the first time entering it, you can't help but think how it's precisely what one would expect upon being informed of the kind of money and stature that Doyoung has.

'New money,' they call it, and with it comes a certain expectation of being a prick, apparently.

The positives of all of this, of course, include that the man work long hours, and thus, you're free to be over without having to see much of him.

And thank God for that.

 "Drink?"

Already reaching up and into one of the white and glass cupboards just above as she calls out the question, you answer back a simple "sure" as she continues bringing down two, large, red wine glasses that you're almost certain cost far more than any reasonable person would pay for cups.

"Doie brought these back from Portugal the last time he went on business, apparently they're one of a kind, handmade."

"I swear to God every time you call him that I get the most intense case of sudden indigestion. No relation, though. I'm sure."

The same playfully annoyed cock of her head that you're used to seeing every time the man comes up into conversation, the both of you chuckle as she sets two glasses down onto perfectly shined marble countertops in front of you.

"There's like, thirty bottles of wine down here and I don't know what's fancy or not," Mina begins, already squatting down in front of the wine storage just beneath (and of course, something that Doyoung personally had built into the kitchen during renovations). Popping back up and grabbing her phone from across the shining table, "Let me ask him."

Only a few seconds of the phone ringing, the line is answered and you hear that all too familiar and also irritating voice come through. "On a work call, what's up, babe?"

You roll your eyes, it's nearly automatic. Mina slaps the marble in front of you like she's trying to dissuade a cat from something.

"We want to open a bottle of wine but I don't know what we can and can't have, so give me a name of something, quick."

"You can have anything you want," The man on the other end coos back. You sort of wish this conversation wasn't happening on speaker phone.

Rolling her eyes, Mina chuckles back at him. "You said some of these bottles are like, three hundred dollars."

"And? Let me know how it is, gotta-go-love-you-bye—" Doyoung sing-song's into the phone before cutting the line completely. You watch the way a grin takes your best friends face at the short but sweet conversation that has only just transpired and it reminds you that all things considered, and all personal feelings about the man aside, they're absolutely, remarkably in love with one another.

As if momentarily forgetting the fact that you're even there, in favor of daydreaming about her husband, Mina finally comes back down to the expensive kitchen with you. "He's so annoying."

"Yeah, I can tell that's totally how you feel about him right now," You respond with obvious sarcasm.

About an hour and a half later and two glasses of whatever accidentally expensive wine your friend has chosen, you're a little disappointed when you hear the familiar voice of The Husband coming down the stairs and slowly making his way into the kitchen.

Of course, and again: You don't hate him, but he always has some shit to say.

Finishing up a work call as he comes around the corner — gray sweatpants and a black, oversized sweatshirt with hair only a tiny bit disheveled and probably due to it being the end of the night for him finally, you watch intently as he leans against the large, stainless steel refrigerator — briefly making eye contact with you as he says goodbye to whatever late night client happens to be on the other end of the line.

With a heavy sigh, Doyoung outstretches his arms. "Finally, freedom."

"Until tomorrow—" Mina adds with a quick peck to his cheek as she hands him a glass of wine as well. The reminder unfortunate, wiping any joy from the mans features in an instant. "—Yes, until tomorrow."

Then, his eyes catch towards you. Bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, the words slip out just before he takes a sip. "And what about you? Do you work?"

Always something to say.

"I do!" You quickly quip back. "I work normal people hours, like most people do."

"I don't think hanging out with my wife is a job."

"Doie!" Mina huffs with a playful slap to his chest.

"I assure you, you don't have to be concerned about my working hours," you begin, taking another sip from your glass before setting it down onto the counter next to you. "At least I won't look seventy years old when I'm thirty, like some people."

"Ooh—" he plays along, eyes narrow as if you've almost got him on the losing side of the banter. "That may be true, but I'll still be rich, and I'll still have a sexy wife."

"Please spare me, I choose not to acknowledge that there is any sexual relationship between the two of you at any given moment in time."

Finishing off his glass and taking a step forward to set it down next to yours, he offers you a thin-lipped grin, as if accompanying it with his sympathies. "And I'm sure that's not a result of projection, at all. Anyway, have a good night, you two, I'm off to bed."

With a quick kiss to Mina and another tip of his head towards you, the man is off and back up the stairs.

Well enough out of earshot, your eyes shoot back to your friend. "Did he just imply I'm not getting fucked?"

She shrugs. "Are you?"

Scoff falling from your lips, you press the point of your index finger out and towards your bestie. "I was just out with that guy last week, remember?"

"And how did that go?"

"It was terrible, but that's not the point—" you answer dryly, as if it be the simplest thing in the world. "—The point is, I get dick, regardless of how questionable the quality may be."

Chuckling, Mina comes around to pick up the glasses and set them next to the sink. "I'll be sure to let him know, then."

"Please don't," You groan in response.

Long, thin, fingers wrapped around your wrist as you're quickly shuffled down the familiar, dimly lit hallway of their shared marital home before your back suddenly finds pressure against the cool wall — legs pulled apart to make room for his hips as you feel the all too familiar burn of being pried apart with not enough prep for such endeavors — enveloped suddenly by broad shoulders and a hard chest held firm against your own as you bite back the moan that threatens to echo down and against the walls, your fingers finding purchase in the fabric of such shoulders as they dig in to match the feeling of being taken so thoughtlessly, relentlessly.

"How do I feel?"

A rhetorical question of sorts, knowing that he can hear and feel the way you fall apart beneath him already and with such little effort on his end — one hand coming up between the wall and the back of your head to curl fingers into you hair and tug roughly on the strands as you hiss into a mouth just centimeters away but not quite touching your own. "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 Waking up in the morning, you don't recall many of the details — instead, living now with the irritating knowledge that you've had a sex dream about one man in particular that you wouldn't wish sex with onto your worst enemy.

Of course, it will pass — as things like this always do. It's just a dream, after all.

Right?

Wrong, regrettably.

Worse than having the dream itself, you think over the next few days, is the way that it simply won't leave you alone. Any moment of downtime in your thoughts now plagued by the memory of a certain best friends husband fucking you against the wall of their newlywed home — it's far from ideal, and for a plethora of reasons that don't necessarily need to be explained. And yet.

But, you know enough about Mina, and your friendship with her, that if you can confide in anyone about having a sex dream about their husband to get it off of your chest, it's her.

Sitting outside of a bougie cafe just down the street from Mina's work building as you wait for her to join you with legs crossed and a mimosa on the table in front of you, as you stare at the menu in an attempt to focus on what it is that you'll be ordering for lunch once your friend arrives, the words still find their way floating through your mind with no prompting, and a little bit too much ease.

 "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 "So long!" The familiar voice of your friend from just behind you pipes up and jars you from your thinking — and thank fuck for that, because any excuse not to be brought to that place is a good one, as far as you're concerned. "Took me so long to find parking here, I don't know why we always insist on coming to this place."

"Because it's central to both of us," you answer with a tone that says that this should be obvious. "Besides, you're always the one that wants to come here."

"What can I say, hot sandwiches here are amazing—" pausing the thought to flag down the wait staff, you place the menu down on the table and rub your eyes with the flat of your fingertips as her attention falls back to you. "—Do you know what you want to order? Wait, what's wrong with you?"

"Yes," you reply to the first question, only to hesitate on the second. "Nothing, tired. Work's been killing me."

"Aw, and Doie said that you don't work," She offers, a comforting tone that only offers the opposite with the addition of the pet name to her lover. Her husband.

"Can we not talk about that man?"

A questioning cock of her head and curiosity piqued, Mina smiles with narrowed eyes. "...Why? Did he say something else? You know, he's only joking—"

"No," you firmly cut her off with a wave of a hand as the waiter returns with a drink for her and an exasperated sigh from you. "He didn't say anything else. He's just...exhausting."

"You don't even know the half of it. I live with him," Mina cheerfully retorts as she takes her drink into hand.

 No, you don't even know the half of it.

 Allowing your friend to do a good bit of the rambling through lunch as you slowly make your way through your salad — you try to put it out of your mind just as much now as you have since that night — unfortunately, the very presence of the woman married to said man in question causing the thoughts to be just that much more at the forefront of your memory.

With a fork between teeth, Mina finally stills mid-sentence and glares at you through perfectly made up, long, eyelashes. "Alright, what the hell is up with you today?"

 Yes, you were busted, but if you were honest, you had every intention of telling her about it, anyway.

 With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you finish chewing through your lettuce before setting your own utensils down at the edge of the plate and dramatically falling back into your chair — a reluctant acceptance of defeat at the hands of your best friend. All perfectly pressed business suit and perfectly structured black hair that her ever so doting husband no doubt pays for to have her take care of.

This is so annoying.

"Well!?"

"Okay, okay, don't rush me, geez—" you cut her off with palms in the air. Allowing silence to once again fall between you — nothing more than the busy bustling of the street nearby and the other patrons of the restaurant around you — you sniffle sharply, now having accepted that this is a conversation that's definitely going to happen.

Her being upset, or angry, not something you're concerned about — rather, just the humiliation of having to admit it (and the way that it's lived in your mind ever since.)

"Have you ever — had a dream about someone else's partner?"

Visibly taken aback, and physically so as Mina jolts into her chair at the question, a chuckle falls from her lips as she just as quickly takes a sip from her tall glass again. "Are you kidding? I've banged Karina's man like, three times unconsciously."

The fast and honest reply has you nearly choking on the sip of drink you had mirrored her in taking.

"It's just a dream, it's not like we have any control over it. Why? Whose man dug you out?"

 Silence.

 Mina's eyes glued to your face as you bring your glass up to your lips again and pull your own line of vision as far from hers as you can manage without actually turning physically — you hate the way you can literally see as the knowledge finally dawns on her with how her teeth quickly begin to peer through the grin that plasters across her face.

"Stop—" she first says.

"Don't—" you respond just as quickly.

"—No way." She finishes with a gasp.

You immediately plant your face into the flat of your palms with an affirming groan.

And thus, your best friend does what anyone would do upon finding out that her friend had a sex dream about her husband: Let out the most annoying, boisterous witch-cackle that a single woman could possibly muster.

When her laughter finally dies down enough to manage in some breaths for an attempt at speaking, Mina takes another sip of her drink through tight lips that are quite evidently still trying to pull back the smile that she wants so badly to let pull across her features. "Well," she quietly begins. "How was it?"

"Really?"

"Just curious how fantasy matches up with reality, that's all."

Rolling your eyes at her curiosity, you can't help but make an attempt to pull the embarrassment from you, and onto the man in question. "I'm sure I was doing him the favor. It wasn't thirty seconds of missionary while he told me about finances so he should be thankful for that much."

Snorting through her nose, Mina's eyes drop down to her mostly-eaten sandwich before her. "Is that what you think it's like?"

"I simply do not think about it at all, actually."

"Evidently, that's not the case."

 With more silence coming between the two of you, now Mina is the one that cuts through it with an all too pointed, proverbial knife.

 "Do you want to fuck him?"

 Sputtering through more salad as the words enter your line of hearing, before you have a chance to answer, Mina amends the statement — as if she can read your mind. "Before you say 'no,' really think about it."

And so, you do. Quietly mulling over all of the possibilities, the thoughts that this bring to your mind — not limited to and especially the recollection of the dream — more than anything, it's a reminder that you don't actually even really like this man. You don't enjoy his company, and you don't particularly enjoy conversing with him. The purpose that Doyoung serve in your life be uniquely in relation to him being the perfect, most amazing husband to Mina.

And how this might be precisely how you ended up here to begin with.

But what this really brings to question is one very pointed, very particular thing:

"A-are you asking me if I want to have sex with your husband...with intention of granting me permission to do so?"

The woman across from you shrugs, calling the wait staff over again for another drink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, one thing at a time. So, do you?"

Feeling a bit like a taboo, kinky carrot being dangled in front of your face — you know Mina well enough to know that she wouldn't be asking this in an attempt to set you up — to get upset with you, to drive a wedge between your friendship.

If she's asking, it's because she's genuinely curious, and has other such genuine intentions, as well.

Clearing your throat and blinking away the awkwardness in the fact that you're really about to answer this honestly: You could lie — pretend that it hasn't been stuck on your mind ever since, pretend that you haven't been fantasizing about him, and in a particularly low moment, cumming to the thought of him — but really, what good will that do you, now?

In fact, even just the conversation now bringing back the dull ache between your legs. Humiliating the power the subconscious can have over us.

"I mean," you quietly start with a shaky, unsure tone. "Yeah. Yes, I guess."

"I know, he's sexy, right? You wouldn't expect it but there's something about him—"

Your best friend regrettably far too accepting of this conversation topic.

"Look, it's not a big deal, I'm not like — dying for it," you cut her off suddenly, mostly in an attempt to deter the conversation from any more detail about that something about the man. "It's just like...in theory, you know, something about that angry, 'I don't like you, you don't like me' type of arrangement makes for a good fantasy but of course, it's just that."

"Right," she snorts again and into the glass pressed to her mouth. "Just that."

 Ten minutes later and with the check for lunch paid by the credit card of a particular husband, with Mina hurrying to gather her things on account of being late back to work — she hugs you quickly with one arm slung around you before rushing off the other way — but not before turning just as suddenly and whispering a little too loudly for your comfort given the people around.

"Look, obviously I can't make him fuck you, but I'll run it by him. I'll let you know. Cheers, babe!"

Great.

"Babe, come to bed!"

Tone whiny and pleading as she kicks her feet from beneath the covers of their shared, King sized bed, Mina groans into the pillow expectantly in anticipation of her husband joining her for a cuddle and a conversation.

Although, mostly the conversation, this time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Doyoung chimes back from their white and gold accented bedroom, toothbrush shoved into his mouth as he peeks his head out through the doorway just before spitting into the sink. "Pushy, aren't you?"

"One of the many things you love about me."

As he saunters towards the side of the bed, all too aware of his surroundings and even more than that, the mischievous grin pulled across the lips of his beloved wife — eyes narrowing with suspicion, he slows his movements just ever so slightly before finally crawling into bed next to her and meeting beneath the sheets. "Why do I have a feeling you're not just looking to snuggle up with your wonderful husband, tonight?"

"Aw, Doie, don't be like that—" Mina whines, wrapping her arms around his and pulling her body against his as he flips through channels on the television against the wall in front of them. "—I had lunch with my bestie today."

Glancing out of his peripheral towards her, Doyoung hums inquisitively, as if unsure of what this has to do with him but anticipating that he's going to find out. "That's good. How is she?"

"She's good," every word coming out like she's singing a song — one made up of no-good and trouble — charming in her tone. "Although, she's had a lot on her mind, lately — so to say."

Pausing, the man shifts just slightly in place as he finally settles on a channel and sets the remote control down between the two of them. "And why do I have a bad feeling about what that means?"

Lips gently beginning to decorate the exposed skin of his shoulder and arm, Mina smiles into them just before the words finally leave her. "She had a dream about you."

"Okay?"

Slow on the pick-up.

This time, she delivers the information a bit more pointedly. "She had a dream about you."

"Oh," he says quietly at first, until the fact of the matter finally, truly, dawns on him. "Oh."

A squint and a frown now, Doyoung's head turns quickly towards his wife.

"And she told you this?"

Mina nods.

"You both are a little too close."

"Well?" She finally offers up the question at hand, lips still innocently peppering across her lovers skin. "What do you think?"

"Are you asking me if I want to fuck your best friend? How would this work, anyway? It's not as if we even get on all that well—"

"I think that's part of it for her."

"—Kinky minx."

Slowly pulling from Doyoung and groaning into a long stretch of her limbs as if settling in for slumber, she smiles again. "It wouldn't be the first time, anyways."

"Yeah, but never friends," he says, rubbing his palms over his face as if a little taken aback by the topic of conversation as a whole. "—I mean, I'm down, you know her better than I do — if you think she can handle it."

"We'll have the discussion later, I wanted to run it by you, first."

Reaching a hand over to his wife, Doyoung pulls her by the arm back over and against his torso with a kiss to the top of her head as she settles her face into the crook of his neck.

"My little liaison," the man chuckles into her hair lovingly. "You just wanna hear about all the dirty little details after the fact, don't you?"

Pulling back to meet eyes with him, a scrunch of her nose and a giggle gives Doyoung all of the answer he would ever really need.

"What can I say? Everyone wins."

Two glasses of wine poured and the both of you sat next to one another on the large and undoubtedly far too expensive plush couch of the living room — a certain comfort of being only in the company of your best friend — it brings you back to so many other instances like this through the years of your friendship, curled up on far less luxury items but sharing all of the intimate details of your loves and lives, as the closest of friends tend to do.

Tonight, however, would offer a bit of a different experience. You're prepared for it, suppose, as much as you possibly can be, given the circumstances at play.

 "He's not home, is he?" You question suddenly, Mina tucking her legs under the rest of her with glass in hand as she situates herself to be facing you. A smile and a chuckle, she shakes her head. "No, it's just us."

Exhaling a sigh of relief at the option of being walked in on by the very topic of conversation not being on the table, you allow yourself at least a tiny bit more of comfort with the affirmation.

"You're going to have to be honest with me," Mina begins, one corner of her lips tugging upwards. "I can only relay to him what you tell me, and he's not going to freestyle it, either, so—"

You take a much larger swig from your glass than previously had, nearly finishing off the contents of it.

"—Tell me what you want."

"Another glass of wine, for starters."

Snorting, your best friend leans towards the table to grab the bottle into hand, tilting it towards your glass and filling it all over again. "You don't have to be uncomfortable, like I said, it's not really the first time we've done this."

"Yeah, news to me," you sigh with a bit of shock cutting through it. "All these years and I never knew."

Shrugging, Mina sets the bottle down again before settling into place all over. "People tend to assume monogamy among couples, we just allowed them to do so. Not as much of a stick in the mud as you thought he is, huh?"

Choosing not to acknowledge that fact, you take another sip of your wine, waiting for the topic of conversation to shift to something that is — effectively the same topic, but more in pertinence to you, specifically.

"So, tell me."

A sharp inhale, you know that you don't have to go through with this: You can just as easily call the whole thing off and pretend that none of this has ever happened — and that the both of them would happily carry on with their lifestyle all the same — but the unshakable lust for the man now deeply imbedded within you, like an itch that's otherwise impossible to scratch — an offering to have it when under most other circumstances it would have to remain as a dull, silent ache only left to you and your own devices, as it were.

 A little too sweet of a deal to turn down, you find. Not God's strongest soldier, it seems.

 "I don't — I don't want him to all of a sudden pretend like we're best friends and that we get along perfectly," you begin cautiously and with eyes darting up towards your friend with every passing of every word. "I want it to feel natural, to feel real, so—"

"You want him to fuck you like he hates you?"

Laid out so simply, the idea of it makes your throat dry, but you nod all the same. "Yeah, yeah I guess so."

"Let me tell you something," your friend begins as she shifts into a more comfortable position with one leg out and over the side of the couch. "What's always been a little funny to me with your preconceived notions about how Doyoung is in bed — he's actually quite...intense."

"What does that mean?"

"He likes to be in control, there's a bit of a dominant streak in him."

Hearing the words, the math starts coming together in your head about the way the man carries himself, the way he works, and just the way he is in general — you're not quite sure how the idea never dawned on you, perhaps too wrapped up in all of the ways that you find him insufferable and a bore, it only natural to assume the same of his abilities.

Before you have a moment to focus on the ache between your thighs, your friend continues on.

"Does that...sound like something that would interest you?"

Swallowing down your pride along with your arousal, you nod until the rim of your wine glass.

"Well, that's easy enough, then," Mina scoffs with a casual roll of her eyes, as if she had almost been hoping for it to be a bit more of a challenge for him to fulfill the role asked of him. "In that case, what's off limits?"

 For some reason, you hadn't bothered to think that far ahead. Your friend notices as much.

 "For what it's worth, there will be a safe word, so even if you agree to anything now or later or any time, really, you don't have to go through with anything if you're no longer having a good time."

Eyes widening at the concept of needing a safe word, you swallow hard. "That intense, huh?"

"It's up to you," she continues on. "It's not just for when things get wild or out of hand, hell, you can use it if you're just in the same room as him. Have you—" She pauses inquisitively, suddenly questioning whether or not this is a good idea at all. "—Done anything like this before?"

But hearing the reluctance in her tone, you nod quickly. "Yeah! Yes, not with...my best friends husband, though."

A cute grin across her face, Mina laughs with a coy flick of her wrist. "Don't get so caught up on that. He's my husband, yes, and for all intents and purposes very much still will be for the sake of the scene, but even more than that, he's here to fill a role — he knows that very well."

"Are you going to be involved?" You ask suddenly, the question only now popping into your mind. Your friend laughs.

"No, I mean, he'll tell me about it afterwards but I won't be like...planning scenes with him, or anything. Whatever he has in store for you — well, that's between the two of you, until after it happens, of course."

"Okay."

Taking a sip of her glass and glancing up at you through eyelashes, she brings the topic back around again. "So, no hard limits?"

"Piss play, shit play—" you quietly begin to list off before Mina stops you. "Okay, he's not into any of that either. I mean more along the lines of; name calling, degradation, humiliation, general rough-housing."

Even just thinking about partaking in half of those things with the man in passing sending a shiver down your spine, you shake your head. "I—I don't think so, maybe start slow, though."

"I'll let him know, again, don't be afraid to tell him to stop in the moment if he gets a little too carried away. He's a good dom."

'He's a good dom.'

What an absolutely perplexingly arousing set of words in succession.

Leaning back finally with your shoulders pressed to the couch, you exhale heavily with eyes high to the ceiling above as your friend mirrors your movement — but instead, with a bright smile pulling across her red, wine-stained lips.

"This is going to be so fun."

Part of the fun, you come to find, is the not knowing.

Even with rules, and safe words, and all of the parties involved very much having come to an understanding of the ins and outs of such an endeavor, the truth of the matter was this: You had no way of knowing when, or what, Doyoung has in store for you.

It's a little bit of risky play, too, at the core level. The fact that the two of you not be explicitly exchanging words among yourselves in order to maintain a certain sense of authenticity to the scene (far from unusual, in the kink world), but new to you, and most definitely requiring a level of trust among all people involved. Far from your favorite person, sure, but you trusted him — and that's far and away what a scenario like this require in order to make it run without a hitch.

And so the question runs constant at the forefront of your mind as you stand in front of your mirror, getting ready for the couples housewarming party: Are you going to fuck your best friends husband tonight?

Stemming from that very simple question, of course, comes a plethora of others: What should one wear? Is it too presumptuous to assume as much? What if it's just a normal evening party and you're completely out of your element in thinking he would fuck you tonight? Do you want to fuck him tonight?

Unfortunately, the answer to that one is an easy yes.

One of the rules being simple enough: The arrangement ends once you and Doyoung have penis in vagina sex — that considered to be the 'goal,' which then only begs the question of how much is the man intending to put you through before even getting to that point?

Or is he to get it done and over with as quickly as possible, instead?

Glancing into the reflection of the mirror and towards a simple, three-quarter sleeve black dress that hands down fitted to the knees, you think it sexy but not too sexy. Just sexy enough. The right amount of sexy.

Let's not appear too excited, after all.

  "Darling, you made it!"

Mina's voice ringing through the kitchen in a faux-french accent as she pours wine for a couple of friends — handing you a glass, she kisses your cheek before pulling away to look you up and down. "You look ravishing, my dear."

God, you hope so.

You find, however, that now that you're here, it's a bit more awkward than anticipated. Man of the hour no where to be found just yet, but unable to stop looking over your shoulder in an attempt to locate him — you sort of hope that your friend be all too preoccupied with the other guests to catch wind of just how hungry for this you may actually be.

Side pressed against the cupboard, you feel the nudge of someone attempting to open it, and turning in an instant to move yourself from out of the way, you're not at all prepared to meet the narrow, dark eyes of the man you're meant to — whatever, with — at some point in time.

You think that your stomach falls out of your ass right then and there.

"Look who showed up! You do take your job of being my wife's friend very seriously, after all."

"Doie! Don't start, it's not even ten o-clock yet!"

 It's almost bizarre to you the way that things carry on with such normalcy, given all of the ways in which the goings on between the three of you now be anything but. Reaching up and towards a bag of chips, with the mans eyes turned towards the subject, you allow yourself the greedy view of his fitted, navy blue button down tucked perfectly into black slacks, with a belt that you're sure costs more than your car payment, accenting it.

Sleeves pushed up and off of his forearms, you take in the way that the muscles and veins flex and move as he does.

Seeing Kim Doyoung in a whole new light — and more than that, you're allowed to do so.

How can a man this fucking insufferable look like this.

"I'll have you know, I can't be out late tonight," you bite back, a good effort in pretending that you hadn't just been eye-fucking him only seconds earlier. "Early morning in the office, tomorrow."

"What a shame," he exasperates sarcastically, settling back down to his heels and handing off the bag to Mina as she walks by with a carefully placed elbow into his side for...being the way that he is. "Don't let us keep you."

"Be nice." You hear your friend groan from just down the hall.

Everything the same as it always is.

Shrugging and reaching to his other side, the man grabs a single popcorn — tossing it into his mouth with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Don't worry, I was just leaving. Some of us still have work to do."

You have really got to get this out of your system.

  "Mina!"

Shouting through the open flooring of the living space towards your friend, you don't bother waiting to hear back a response before you carry on with the thought.

"Is the downstairs bathroom working yet?"

"No, you have to use our bathroom. Upstairs, to the right, all the way down."

With a quick yell back, you hurry yourself up the while, marbled staircase — not having to go particularly badly yet but mostly instead wishing to get away from the volume of the crowd downstairs for a bit — you realize it's your first time having been on the second floor of the home. Still so new and unexplored, you can't help but take in the sight in a way that feels akin to sight-seeing.

The two certainly did not do badly for themselves.

Slowly making your way down the hallway, your attention is instead drawn to a single room to the left and just before the end of the hall — the tiniest bit of flickering, blue light spilling out from the open doorway — simply enough, you know who reside inside.

Carefully sneaking past in an attempt not to disturb him as he works, you can't help but turn your head to peek at the man inside: head cocked to the side to hold his phone there as his hands work busily at a keyboard on the desk in front of him — but you should really know better than to think that you can get away that easily.

Eyes picking up and towards you, one hand pulling upwards and pushing out his index finger towards you. That silent motion that we all know.

The 'come hither.'

Glancing back down the hall from the direction in which you came, you slowly step towards the doorway, palms nervously pressed to either side before slipping past as quietly as can be — then, with the flick of his wrist, Doyoung motions for you to shut the door behind you.

Your heart rate spikes so hard you feel dizzy.

Hand shaking as you reach out and toward the door, you carefully pull it closed behind you — not all of the way, still sitting ajar just behind you — but seemingly good enough for the man and with eyes glued to you all the while, it's then that he motions once again with his finger for you to come to him.

A slow saunter, feeling the way that your heart beats so hard and fast against your chest you're certain that the people on the other end of the phone can hear it, once you reach just beside him, it's then that he finally swivels his chair around and to the side to face you.

Along with issuing another command: To get on your knees.

The truth of it is that it's humiliating how aroused you already are by it all: A quiet, drowning culmination of so many things happening all at once. The fact that it's so wrong to be doing at all, the fact that you had only an hour ago been downstairs reconsidering if it was worth it entirely given how horrible he is, and beyond all of that — the unknown.

A dull thrum between your legs as you slowly kneel down and between his, thankful at least for the friction that that provides.

Legs spread wide before you, you watch as Doyoung slowly slips one hand down the front of his pants to settle over the growing bulge beneath. Barely noticeable strokes over himself and only inches from your face — remaining calm and collected on the work call in his ear as he does so, you slowly bring a hand up to unfasten his belt as the heady desire of watching him work himself begins to course through even pump of your veins.

Catching your wrist in his other hand just as quickly to stop you from touching him, the two of you make eye contact: a look in his features of displeasure and disapproval.

You're not allowed to touch him.

Watching in silence as Doyoung's head falls back against the office chair, barely able to make out the strands of black hair sticking to his slicked forehead — you can't hear him, on account of the call, but the visual enough to drive you mad, and probably even worse than the dream had ever done — pressing your thighs together as tightly as you can manage as you eye the movement of his fist beneath the fabric of his slacks. Growing faster, using his free hand to pull his shirt up and out of the way so that you can watch the way the muscles of his abdomen move with every tug of his hand against his cock — it's truly the most excruciating and simultaneously intoxicatingly arousing thing you've ever watched.

Internally begging for the request that you climb up and onto his lap to take him, or at the very least taste him, you realize all too suddenly that you might really be in over your head this time as you watch him come in his pants for your viewing pleasure, only.

Completely silent, heavy breaths as his chest rises and falls with each one, Doyoung brings his head back up from the back of the chair to tentatively meet your eyes once again as he pulls his dirtied fingers from the inside of his pants.

Playing with the way that his cum coats his fingers for a brief moment, he motions for you one last time — but this time, a much different meaning to that single, cum-covered digit.

You waste no time leaning toward him, and for a moment, it's like you don't even recognize yourself, anymore; long past the realm of the kind of lust-drunken stupor you've ever experienced before — and as the man shoves long, sullied fingers into your mouth, it's an automatic response the way you suck and swirl your tongue around them, as if wishing them to be the cock you would be more than willing to beg for any moment now.

When finished, Doyoung frees his hands from your lips, only to motion you away from him just as simply as he had beckoned you.

 Stumbling down the hall towards the bathroom in which you had originally intended to find, panties slick and soiled with nothing besides your own desire — the words from your bestie ring loud through your memory in a horny daze.

'Intense' might have been the understatement of the year.

When Mina invites you to a work party for her husband, all that you can think about is the night of their housewarming: sucking his cum off of his fingers in the dull, blueish glow of a computer monitor.

You wonder if she knows. Surely, she knows.

Similarly, modestly dressed as that night — this time in a nice blouse and a fitted pair of dress pants, your friend praises your attire as you enter the busy conference room, shoving a tall glass of bubbly into your hands just as quickly as you're able to greet her back.

"Thank you for coming," she sighs in relief. "I was so fucking bored."

You can't help but wonder what this evening has in store for you now.

Now that you've gotten a taste...no pun intended.

"Sure, I didn't have anything better to do."

"Unsurprising, stuff like this is your job, after all, isn't it?"

Slipping up from the side of the both of you with a proud smirk — hair slicked back and off of his forehead to accompany the the just as put together look of his freshly pressed suit, Doyoung comes up to settle next to his wife, hand settling just at the curve of her hip.

You sort of wonder what it feels like to so easily be touched by him before shaking the thought from your mind entirely.

"Are you ever going to let that joke go?" You ask with a roll of the eyes. "It wasn't funny the first time, promise it's not getting funnier the more mileage it gets."

"I'll stop making it when you stop showing up everywhere, maybe."

"She invited me!" You scoff, only to watch the man bend over to whisper the response into Mina's ear. "Don't worry, I'll handle her for that later."

Out loud, your response is of feigned disgust at the sight, but inside, the visual of the man so vividly offering himself to someone once again reigniting the lust in your gut.

It's a deep, untamed need to have him, now. Part of you hopes that tonight will be the night that he finally puts you out of your misery. Get it out of your system, and move on with your life. Go back to nothing but pointed distaste for the man that your best friend chose to marry.

"Well, I'm off, got to make the rounds," The man finally says with a kiss to the top of his wife’s head before gifting you nothing but a raise of the eyebrows in acknowledge of your existence. "Have fun."

It's funny, because it's precisely what you had requested. For him not to pretend. To not act differently in any other circumstances — for everything to carry on as it normally would. You wonder if it's a conscious effort on his part to do so, or if it simply comes that easy to the man.

  Quarter past eleven, you make your way out and onto the balcony by yourself — Mina off enjoying herself with a couple of the other work wives — weaving your away around a handful of folded and tucked umbrellas, tables and chairs for outdoor dining — you manage to find yourself a comfortable little nook of privacy off and to the side, and far from the line of sight of any prying eyes.

Thankfully, as it not be much of a habit you wish to be caught partaking in.

Digging into your bag to drag out the long, white stick from its box along with a lighter and sandwiching it between gently parted, red-stained lips, you light the cigarette and inhale with a feeling of relief washing over you — no, not a habit that you find yourself indulging in often, but perhaps after a few drinks on a particular night, you'd be known to have a bit of crumble to your resolve.

You know that Mina would have a thing or two to say, so best that she not know at all.

 "Look at you—"

Not just the sound of a voice, but a mans voice at that being the thing to startle you, swinging around to find the visage only slightly more comforting than that of a strangers.

"—Don't you have secrets."

Strolling towards you with hands in pockets, you watch as Doyoung closes the distance between the two of you with a toothpick between teeth, and feeling like a child caught red-handed, the lump in your throat catches any chance you have at swallowing down the obvious nervousness carried through your body at his discovery.

Turning away and facing out towards the railing of the balcony, you choose instead not to give power to his overwhelming presence as you inhale another puff of the stick.

"It's just a social thing when I drink."

A quick, careful shift of his body and Doyoung just as easily has you caged in with arms on either side and chest pressed to your back.

It's not the only thing pressed to your back side, either.

Mouth dipping down into the crook of your neck as you carry on your desperate attempt to ignore him, he never kisses you — never actually makes contact of his lips to your skin — but the feathering of warm breath that smells of expensive scotch all the same kind of intoxicating, as if having drank the liquor yourself.

"Have you thought about the other night?"

The first, verbal acknowledgement of this between the two of you. Suppose, it always was just a matter of time before actual words had to be spoken in relation to it, but with one hand sliding closer to your own along the guard rail as the warmth of the words linger against your skin, you swallow dryly at the question before attempting an answer.

"Y-yeah."

"Did you like how I tasted?"

Doyoung answers back to you much too quickly for your liking, obviously far more comfortable and in control of this interaction than you find yourself to be — by design, based on Mina's run down of the man and his sexual preferences — but more surprisingly than that is the way that it doesn't feel alarming, or discomforting, but rather, pools the arousal between your legs faster than you think anyone or anything else ever has.

It's humiliating, and unfortunately, that sort of adds to it, as well.

Fingers around your wrist, the man pulls you around and back towards one of the tables just behind where the both of you stand — a small, couch-like set up with a cloth awning that doesn't allow for a visual inside of it unless you be directly in the front of it — Doyoung drags you gently towards it before seating himself down with legs spread, and this time, hands busily working at his belt as he stares up at you.

"Knees."

If someone had asked you why you simply obey the commands, you wouldn't even really be able to tell them outside of the throbbing, painful need to find out what obeying may get you in the end.

Taking your place between his legs, you dare not attempt to reach out and touch him this time, figure, you learned your lesson from the first encounter enough — watching instead as his fingers pull the leather from it's loops, then work at the button just beneath — a quick lift of his hips to press his dress slacks down only enough to expose himself as necessary, but with the added coverage of his briefs, as well.

You realize now, in this moment, that you'll do just about anything to fucking see it.

Same hand as before sliding down his stomach and gripping his cock from under the remaining fabric, you watch with lewd attentiveness as the man strokes himself in front of your face all over again, just as before.

"Want another taste?" He says, words airy and lustful. Nodding your head in affirmation like a dog begging for a treat, Doyoung chuckles under his breath. "Are you wet?"

The question excites you more than anything else, because surely, he's asking for one reason and one reason, alone.

Quickly darting your hand down and between your legs, the man shoots up and off of the back of the seat with a sudden urgency. "Don't. Don't touch yourself. Surely you know without checking."

Nodding again, you try to say "yes," but the words barely escape through the dryness of your mouth.

"Good girl," he answers, leaning against the seat again and slipping thumbs into the sides of the fabric remaining at his hips to pull it down only a few more inches from where it currently lie. Watching intently as his cock springs free from the confines — finally in full view for you — long and perfectly curved, not too thin but not enough thickness to him that taking him would be troublesome, suddenly, it's as if the problem of your mouth being too dry be replaced now by one of being too wet — watering at the sight of something you want to feel inside of you so desperately that by the second you find yourself losing the ability to feign disinterest in him.

Dominant hand snaking around his length again, Doyoung brings his other hand forward and towards you — wrapping around to the back of your head and fingers curling into the strands of hair there. It stings, but nothing too bad, and instead you find the pain only amplify the throb between your legs now as he dangle precisely what it is that you want just out of reach and in front of your face with every slow, gentle stroke of his hand along his cock.

"You want another taste, yeah?" He whispers this time as he tightens his grip into your hair and tilts your head back — perfect angle for the wet, head of his cock to rub just at your chin and bottom of your lip.

It's exciting, painfully so, as the untouched arousal coiling within you threatens. For a second, you really wonder if you can cum from this alone.

"If I cum for you will you be a good girl and swallow it for me?" He says then as the movement of his hand begins to pick up just that much more. "I come a lot, can you handle that?"

For some reason, the thought of the man having full, heavy loads of cum makes you even hotter for him. Something so primal and lewd about the idea of it — but perhaps you're too fucked out on not being fucked by now that you can't tell what's sexy and what's not, anymore.

Either are possible.

"Y-yes," you huff out, darting your tongue out to lick at the bottom of your lip and not-so-accidentally meeting with the tip of his length. Devilish grin taking his features, Doyoung stills his actions just as easily — an impressive amount of self-control. "Uh-uh, that's cheating."

Pulling you up and higher from your knees so that you gain more height above him, with the way that you're positioned over his cock, you think that he may threaten to impale your throat on him in one, smooth go. Deep down, you sort of hope he does.

"Spit."

The command comes through so strong in tone that you quickly answer to it, collecting enough saliva in your mouth to dribble down and onto the already plenty wet shaft of his cock as he continues to stroke himself through it with a low, throaty groan that makes you want nothing more than to swallow him whole with how close you are to it.

"Wanna suck my cock, baby?"

You nod wildly.

Hissing through his teeth at the sight of your neediness, he picks up the pace of his fist along his shaft as he settles you back down to your original position between his knees — tip of himself pressed along your lip. "How bad do you want it? Will you beg to have me in your mouth?"

"Yes, please—"

"I didn't say to beg, I just asked if you would," he amends with a patronizing cock of his head. "Want me to fuck your throat? Choke down my cum for me like a good girl?"

The throb nearly unbearable now, you can only whine at the words as he gets closer and closer to his own completion.

"Why don't you open that pretty little mouth for me so I can give you what you came here for?"

The words coming out in a deep, throaty groan as he teeters on the edge of completion, you allow your jaw to fall slack as he fucks himself with his hand a few more times before moaning out through gritted teeth at the feeling of his release — ropes of warm, wet cum painting your cheek and lips despite mostly being caught on your tongue as he comes in waves with every pull of his fingers along his length until finally stilling — leaning forward only to gaze upon his artistic handy work before telling you to swallow it all as previously instructed.

On the way home that night, only ten, simple words lingering on your mind as you make peace with the discomfort of your arousal along the way.

'so I can give you what you came here for.'

"Mina! I'm—"

Turning the corner and into the kitchen to find the door to fridge open — this is all well and good, except for, of course, once it closes and you're forced into contact with the same man who just came in your mouth unceremoniously a week prior.

Expressionless otherwise, Doyoung raises an eyebrow at the sight of you in his home before closing the stainless steel door and walking the other way.

"Guess my lovely wife forgot to inform her employee about the schedule change!" He says with a huff.

"You have got to let that joke go."

Right back to the usual. You wonder what sort of cruel games God plays when granting such a horrible man such a beautiful cock.

Shrugging and turning to look back at you from over his shoulder, the man takes a pitcher of water from the counter; pouring himself a glass before taking another one down from the cupboard and filling that, as well. Slowly carrying on towards you, he hands you the perfect crystal before nodding towards the marble island sitting in the middle of the kitchen for you both to take seats at.

Watching him move, it's such a different feeling from the one that intimately, you've grown a bit accustomed to. You know well enough that people involved in kink and alternate lifestyles are just regular people, but suppose you find yourself never having been so involved with one.

Or rather, fooling around with one who also happens to be married to your best friend.

Oversized, brown sweater hanging off of broad shoulders and thin, round framed glasses, Doyoung perches himself onto one of the stools with a gentle clank of his glass against the cool marble beneath — elbow snug against the hard material and hand serving as a means to lean his temple against as he looks upon you.

It's a little bizarre, feeling him watch you in a way that doesn't feel sexual at all. In a way, you find, it might be the first time Doyoung has really paid you any attention at all beyond the irritating banter of your joint, non-intimate involvement.

Looking charmingly soft and domestic, it's hard to make sense of the man seated in front of you, and the man who asked you to spit on his dick a week ago.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Taking a small sip from your glass, you try to drink down with it the nervousness of being in his presence, but suppose, maybe just a normal conversation will help alleviate that much.

"Have you...told her?"

Stilling, as if not quite sure what it is that you're asking, Doyoung's eyes first pull away from you in some attempt to gather knowledge from elsewhere that he not quite have in front of him. "Yeah, she told you I would."

Thumbing at the rim of your glass, intentionally avoiding any and all eye contact with the man, you hum in response. "What does she think?"

Glancing up, you catch the sight of a grin taking the mans lips, tongue darting across his lower lip like he's finally cracked the case of what all of this is about — settling back into his position from just before with a wide, gummy smile that you're not all that used to seeing.

"She thinks it's hot, is that what you want to hear?"

Snorting at the reply, you shrug. "I don't know. I guess."

"If this is some juvenile way of asking if everyone on our end is okay with the way things are taking place thus far, then the answer is 'yes,'" he says with an annoyingly judgmental tone to his voice. "Everything good on your end?" He adds much to your surprise, popping your head up suddenly at the question.

"Uh," you begin, bashful at the thought of further acknowledging the goings on between the two of them at this current point in time. "Y-yeah, everything is good."

Answering you first with a nod as he sets the glass into the sink, the man carries on down the short hallway and out of the kitchen entirely.

"Well, I've got work to do. Mina'll be home in about a half an hour. Make yourself comfortable, you apparently live here, after all."

Frown on your face at the words and tightening the grip on the set of keys that most definitely go to this home — suppose it's a fair enough assessment.

  After a much later night than usual, with Mina in bed and keys of your own, it's simple enough to let yourself out.

Dimly lit hallways all of the way into the kitchen, it's on your way to sneaking out that you recall having left your dirty glass on the counter — and without giving Doyoung any more reasons to be a thorn in your side, obviously, it easier to be dealt with now. Easy enough.

Except that apparently this guy fucking lives in the kitchen.

Laptop propped up onto the same counter that the two of you shared your small chat earlier, the man watches you move slowly through the area — carefully reaching towards your glass and taking it into your hand as you slide it towards yourself and turn to set it precisely where it is that it belongs.

"Sorry," you whisper on your way past him again and towards the kitchen exit, before that familiar, strong hand finds itself looping around your wrist all over again.

You don't know if you can handle another night like the other two, however.

Pulling you into him with your back to his chest and still seated in place, you think it perhaps a good idea to have worn a cute little sun dress today.

That's not the only surprise you have in waiting, either.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders as the other slinks down to the inside of your thigh — you delight in the feeling of the man touching you, really touching you, for the first time. Delicate pads of his fingers feathering up slowly to the apex of your thighs, it's only due to the position of you against him in such a way that he feels the knocking of something hard against his wrist as he attempts to move closer to your vulva.

And it causes him to still completely.

Seconds of silence passing between you, nearly holding your breath at the anticipation of what's to come — you wonder if he'll choose to punish you for daring to go out on a limb and do such a thing, if punishment is even really something he would do — so many questions and possibilities, all more exciting than the last.

Slowly, you feel him lower his head down, mouth just next to your ear as the very same traveling hand pulls back to your behind and presses a finger right up against the exact thing causing the intrusion.

"Well, well, well," he whispers teasingly against your flesh. "Someone came over with expectations."

Already having opted out of verbally replying to him, he makes it easy with the ease in which he pushes you forward to give him space to stand — fingers pressed into the side of your neck from behind as he hurriedly urges you towards the darkened, least lit countertop in the kitchen.

It's a nice attention to detail: Not that the two of you have to sneak around, but pretending to makes it all that much more worth it.

Forcing your face and chest down and folding you over, Doyoung bunches the fabric of your dress up and over your ass just before diving by hand into the back of your panties for precisely the device that has him in such a mood.

"Who told you to wear this?" He asks with a gentle press against it. One finger extending down, he dips into your folds just ever so lightly before pulling back up with a chuckle under his breath. "You're so wet. Aren't you a little cockslut?"

The shift in Doyoung's demeanor this time hard to ignore, like a little bit of him lost in some sort of primal, animalistic lust to have you — it's precisely what you had been going for, after all.

Distinct sound of him hurriedly trying to pull himself from his jeans, met then with the feeling of long, deft fingers gently tugging your underwear down your legs — Doyoung pulls your hips up and out just enough before pressing your thighs closed together with his cock sandwiched in between and the plug in your ass on display for him as he continues gently pushing and pulling on it with ever shallow thrust of his hips against you.

It's excruciating, the promise of feeling him snug between your walls in only an inch or so of adjustment — head of his cock rutting gently against your swollen clit as he aimlessly fucks the wetness of your pussy from the outside — you regret the way that the quake of your thighs give away the fact that you may be able to come from this contact alone.

Slowing his movements against you with hands firmly pressed into the dip of your hips, Doyoung leans down and against you to whisper more torment into your ears.

"So close, baby," he huffs out. "You're so wet, could slide inside of you so easily — fuck you raw right here, would you like that?"

As if the knowing and the wanting wasn't enough, the talking always ending up as your ultimate downfall with the man.

You nod despite the way in which the side of your face lie against cold, unforgiving marble — looking back at him as he administers this particular punishment of the night. You're not sure if it's intended to be a punishment — of if any of it really is, but it certainly does feel that way.

Perhaps you're just a little bit too used to getting what you desire, with ease.

"Sort of want to," he says through gritted teeth, a certain tonal anger that you don't think you've heard from the man in your encounters before but that causes you to clench hard around nothing all the same. The promise of finally getting what you want to bad — the taking of what he wants and needs of you even in spite of himself. One hand sliding up your back and setting on the back of your neck again, he pulls his hips back just enough to position the tip of his length perfectly at your entrance — threatening all the while with shallow pokes to sheath himself inside of you once and for all.

"Fuck you stupid, have you babbling my name while I fuck you full of my load like the cum-hungry bitch that you are, that's what you want me to do, right?" Without giving you time to respond, you feel him pull hard enough on the plug embedded in your ass to remove it, tossing it into the sink only a little bit away. "Come over here with this in makes me act a little fucking crazy — but you haven't earned having me in your cunt just yet."

Hand swooping down from the small of your back and cradling instead his length as he positions the tip of himself at your well-prepped asshole — well enough lubricated from topically fucking your pussy, Doyoung presses himself inside of the tight cavern slowly with a bitten bottom lip and a forced back groan from his chest as he sinks inside of you as delicately as he can muster.

You're thankful enough for his attention, but it's not your first rodeo, and you prepped for a reason — pushing your hips back and against him as signal to carry on, he brings the hand back up and to your shoulder, leverage to pull you back with force and onto his cock with every following snap of his hips.

Truthfully, he feels fucking exquisite inside of you.

"Fuck, Doyoung—" you whine, only for one hand to swing around and over your mouth just as quickly as the words exit.

"Don't address me," he grits through drives of his hips into you — moans spilling out through his fingers all the same as if no hand there at all. "Don't talk, just take my cock like you're supposed to."

Nodding, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to come so badly and not knowing if you can get there untouched — tears threatening the corners of your eyes with every relentless yet heavenly drag of the mans cock inside of your ass — it's then that you feel the ghosting of fingers over your clit. A feeling so exciting to you now that you nearly bear down against them, to which, Doyoung chuckles at your neediness.

"Can't just come from my cock in your ass?" He whispers, the lewd sound of his hips meeting the flesh of your behind echoing through the otherwise empty bottom floor of the home. "How much do you think I'd have to rub you before you came all over my hand? Ten seconds?—"

The light, feathering of the tip of his fingering feeling nearly electric over your clit now, you moan out into the palm of his hand with eyes clamped shut. "—Five seconds?"

Breathing heavily through his hand as he continues his relentless drive into you from behind, pulling his hand away from between your legs you whine loudly against the flesh of him at the loss of yet another release, but instead, the hand around your mouth curling fingers between your lips as you happily and seductively suck around them like cock presented. Groaning at the sight, his other free hand traveling up the length of your torso and finding purchase against your breast as his thumb gently circles around the bud there — Doyoung leans down to curl his lips into a smile against your back at the sight of all of the ways that you're willing to fall apart for him.

"I think you can come without it."

Gently fucking his fingers into your mouth — simulating the presence of his length currently buried in your ass, also buried down your throat, with the additional stimulation of gentle tugs and flicks of his thumb against your nipple, pressing your thighs together tightly — you suspect that he might be right.

"God, look at you," he groans, slowing his hips to focus elsewhere as he watches the way you hungrily lap at his fingers. "You want to suck my cock so bad — have you always wanted it, baby?"

It's nearly involuntary, the moan that rips through you as the words leave his mouth.

Just shy of baby talking, condescending certainly, Doyoung pressing the pads of his fingers harder against your tongue as he shoves all of the way into your mouth to the best of his ability given the angle. "That why you act like that? Need me to fuck your face open, make you gag on it a little bit so you shut up?"

The words, with a particularly sharp snap of his hips, has your legs pressing in on themselves in just a way that you know with a little bit more movement, you can get there. Through tears brimming in your eyes, you manage out a desperate plea past the mans fingers — met with such a familiar sinister grin, Doyoung picks up the pace of his hips — harder and fuller with length against you as you nearly cry out around the fingers still dug in between your lips.

Digging a hand up from your chest and in your hair again, knuckles twisting into it hard as he chases his high, with a bit back groan he gazes down at you — standing tall and firm from behind you as you barely manage to meet eyes with him from your twisted position.

"Gonna come, baby?" He whispers through labored breaths as he teeters on the edge of release. "Want me to fuck my cum in your ass, don't you?"

"Yes, yes—" You chant at the promise of finally being able to come in the presence of the man. You're thankful when it's only two or three more stutters of his hips into you from behind before he releases into you — hot cum spilling into your hole as he shoves the full length of himself inside as he finishes. It's enough for you, thankfully, enough friction from the movement of him against you to have you barreling over the edge along with him with a shriek and a whine through his fingers as you come hard and long for the first time since you two have begun your rendezvous.

Chests heaving as the man gently pulls himself from you, you quickly bend down to pull your panties up to catch the mess of cum already immediately making its exit from your used, stretched open hole. Turning back around to face him as he effectively cages you in with arms on either side of the counter — the two of you make eye contact briefly before a gentle flushing of embarrassment washes over you and you're forced to pull away from the man that only seconds ago was inside of you.

"Try to remember to wash your dishes, would you? I can't do this every time."

Turning back suddenly, you playfully slap at his arm as he shimmies his jeans back up and around his hips.

Mixed drink and a slightly over-cooked quesadilla in front of you on the table of a busy, evening restaurant on your side of town — in the company of a handful of shared friends, Mina and her miserable husband, you can't help the pique in curiosity about the ins and outs of such an arrangement from inside of the marital home.

How much their relationship benefits from the retelling of such engagements with your best friends husband. How much their sex life benefits from it.

Watching from your peripheral — an attempt to not make it so obvious, how interested you are in the dichotomy of it — Mina and Doyoung playfully flirting and touching each other from across the table as if the man hadn't just sodomized you in their kitchen only a few days prior.

It turns you on even that much more. The mystery behind it.

"God—" An exasperated sigh from the man; black turtle neck and fitted black jeans just under the table as he sets his glass back down onto the table with a disgruntled scrunch of facial features adorning his face. "—This drink is terrible, I should say something."

Squinting, the pointless complaint pulls something from you. Such a typical, stuck up, rich guy thing to say.

"Drinks are two dollars here, what did you expect?"

"I don't care if it's two or twenty dollars, if I'm paying for it then it should at least be drinkable."

Eyes turning towards your friend seated next to you as she meets your gaze just the same, a swift kick across the way to her husbands shin has him rolling his eyes and jolting back in his chair. "Be good, Doie."

"Yes, dear."

"Can't take him anywhere," You whisper to your friend, well within earshot of the man, which of course only causes him to lean in and towards the both of you with an irritated frown. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

"Better than talking to you."

"Trust me," he sighs, leaning back into his seat again. "The feeling is more than mutual. I wonder everyday how you ended up with a key to our place."

 For whatever reason, that one stings in particular.

 Normally, dealing with Doyoung is something that you're used to — but tonight, there's a certain tone to him that you find hitting somewhere in your chest in a much different way. Not just banter, but perhaps a deeply personal disapproval of not only you, but your friendship with his wife.

It's not that you anticipated starting a sexual relationship with him to have fixed your dealings outside of it — quite the contrary, actually — but maybe enough was enough, now.

You've cum on my face, the least you could do is treat me with a basic level of respect.

 Napkin out of your hand and onto the table in a way that it's obvious of your displeasure, you stand suddenly and inform Mina of your departure to the bathroom. "Do you want me to come with you?" She of course offers, only for you to quickly dismiss it and assure her that you're fine as you carry yourself off and down the short hallway to the small, two-stall ladies room.

Leaned over the dirty, wet, black granite counter with both hands pressed into the edge, you look at yourself in the reflection — needing a moment to cool off, you're still relatively unsurprised when you don't receive it.

Cracking the door open, you watch from in front of you as the most insufferable man you've ever known slips inside to join you.

"You having fun?" He starts, already with intent to have a fight with you. "Have fun causing a scene?"

"Oh, I'm causing a scene!" You chime sarcastically, "not the guy who wants to complain about a two dollar drink not being up to par. Does it ever get exhausting? Being so fucking far up your own ass?"

Rushing towards you in an instant, Doyoung wraps a hand in your hair from behind — first pushing you forward with the momentum of it but just as quickly ripping you backwards and towards one of the empty stalls. Door slamming shut behind the both of you and just as quickly allowing the back of his shoulders fall to the wall, he works quickly at his belt as the sinister look in his eyes never once leaves your own.

You wonder how he has this kind of power — only seconds ago the most horrible man you could ever imagine being around, but now, watching him stare you down as he works to free his cock for you in this public bathroom — you realize that it's that precise mixture of things that makes his desirability so strong. Painfully so, as the throb between your legs already finds itself stirring up once again.

Barely pushed down his hips and freeing his hardening length, languid strokes over himself as he stands in front of you never once breaking eye contact for a second, you realize in humiliating silence that you're waiting for his command.

Of which, he quickly grants you: "Why don't you put that mouth to good use, for once."

Maybe if you hadn't been wanting it for so long already you'd be more willing to put up a bit of a fight, but finally being granted one of the things you've been dying for since the beginning of this endeavor with him — falling to your knees in the filth of this bathroom stall and immediately taking him into your hand with a long, enthusiastic swipe of your tongue up the bottom of his shaft — the low, breathy groan that it grants you reason enough to pull forward to take the head of his cock between your lips and swirl your tongue there, only to press down along his length for as far as you can before the tip of him threatens the back of your throat.

Unfortunately, it's not much of him that you can take before that happens.

Hand in your hair again as you've grown so familiar, you hear the sound of his head falling back against the granite before parting his lips to speak. "Gonna have to do a better job than that. How good can you be?"

You know what he's really asking.

Pulling you forward by your hair harder along his length, you struggle to accommodate him in your mouth, but it's not the first time you've done something like this — he's not asking too much of you — but it's sudden, and the burn against your throat something you're not used to feeling as your gag reflex begins to trigger and tears well up in your eyes at the struggle.

Doyoung pulls you back only slightly so that you can take a deep breath before bringing your mouth back along him. "Come on, you're gonna have to take it all, baby."

The words 'have to' immediately pooling between your legs, especially.

Gagging around him, the man moans through the sounds of you struggling to take his cock into your throat, he begins shallow, short thrusts against your mouth in an attempt to bring your nose flush with the skin of his pubic area, but with this not being something you've done often enough — there's part of you that wants to fight through it, because frankly, you've been fantasizing about this very moment since the very first night you tasted his cum from his fingers, anyways — but perhaps you should have practiced a bit more (or at all) at home in anticipation for this night.

You don't want to, but everyone has limits.

Three fast taps of your hand against his thigh, Doyoung immediately removes himself from your hair, allowing you to pull off from him just as quickly — coughing into the crook of your elbow as you attempt to regain oxygen into your lungs, you can't see much through the wetness gathered in your eyelashes, but you do hear the sound of him tucking himself away again before kneeling down to meet you on the floor.

"Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

"No," you rasp out, sounding far more fucked and broken than you actually are, but rather, a physical result of the assault on your throat. Really, you're fine, just too much, too fast. "I'm okay, seriously, just couldn't yet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Concern dripping from his voice — he's not touching you, purposely as to give you enough space from him, you shake your head with a chuckle as you bring your hand up to wipe the tears away from your eyes before making eye contact with him again.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, I was a little too enthusiastic, I think."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Chuckling again at the way that the man almost insists on handling you with kid gloves, you roll your eyes. "Yes, I'm not broken, I just can't deep throat seven inches of dick on a whim without a bit of practice."

"Aw," Doyoung coos, running a hand gently through your hair, before standing himself and helping you to your feet. "You think I'm seven inches. That's sweet."

Sniffling hard and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before straightening your clothing and dusting off your knees, you shoot the man a confused frown. "Bigger or smaller?"

Unlocking the stall door and motioning for you to exit, Doyoung offers you a simple wag of his index finger and a pompous grin before answering.

"A lady never tells. After you."

With weeks of fooling around with Kim Doyoung under your belt now, you find a certain level of trust and comfort established. Exemplified by his adhesion to boundaries and safe words at the drop of a hat, you can't help but recall the words that Mina had offered you so early on in the initial discussions of this foray into ethical non-monogamy.

'He's a good dom.'

Sure, you have a lot of criticisms of the man: That he's brash, boring, conceited, self-important and a whole other mess of ways to say that he's far from the kind of man you'd like to see yourself with at the end of the day, but one thing is for sure — safety, respect and trust are of the utmost importance to him.

Thinking back to that time in the bathroom — immediately unconcerned with the state of his erection in favor of the state of your well-being — sure, it sort of is the bare minimum when it comes to this sort of sexual play, but something to be celebrated, all the same.

So now, you may have an interest in rearranging some of the terms of your agreement.

  "Honey, I'm home!"

Annoyingly sing-song in a way that you know will irritate the man of the house but be effortlessly charming to the person that you're there to see — when met with silence, you're a bit disappointed. After all, playing house in spite of Doyoung's clear distaste for it has turned into one of your favorite past times.

Both the playing house, and the irritating him parts.

"Hello?" You ask again, listening to the way the words echo through the empty, lower-level of the home, only to eventually be met regretfully by the husband — apron-clad and wooden spoon in hand as he settles a straight-faced look upon you without offering anything for words.

Then, he turns back and into the kitchen from which he came.

A roll of the eyes, you set your bag down on a chair near the door, kicking your shoes off and following after him — eyes pulling towards the familiar countertop that you've more than become acquainted with as you circle around to the other side of the kitchen island to sit in the very same chair that the man had been seated in the last time that the two of you had your...engagements, here.

"So," you sigh. "When's Mina coming home?"

"She's not."

The words sort of send a chill down your spine, because the first thing that comes to mind is that the things that the two of you have been engaging in have now torn their relationship apart.

But, Mina was the one that told you to come over.

Glancing over his shoulder while perched over the stove — obvious horror splashed across your face, Doyoung laughs at the obvious line of thought in your mind. "She's on a business trip."

"Then, why did she tell me to come over?"

Halfway into turning his attention back to his cooking, he brings his head all the way back to look at you again: It's a look that says, "you know why, don't play dumb now."

He doesn't offer verbal confirmation, but you understand the jist of it well enough with just that. "Have you eaten?" He asks instead, to which you nod. "Yeah, had something on the way over."

It's sort of perfect, the way that the pieces fall together as Doyoung stands across from you at the very same island — a small bowl of soup being shoveled into his mouth with no particular haste as you watch him — gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, it's a cozy look that you're not all that used to seeing from him considering the majority of your involvement with him has been out and about.

You've been meaning to bring this up, anyways.

"I think—" you start quietly, picking at the skin around your fingernails lightly. The nervousness being the first thing that Doyoung notice as his eyes travel up from his empty bowl and towards your own, waiting for you to finish the thought.

"—I don't want to do this anymore. With you. It feels wrong. I can't do it anymore."

The layer of silence that falls across the atmosphere of the kitchen feeling so suffocatingly thick as you wait for his response — the man simply staring at you quietly through his eyelashes without even the slightest bit of movement until his lips part ever so lightly to speak.

"Color?"

And with confidence, you whisper back "green."

Squinting at you, you recall back having mentioned this to Mina in passing: the resistance kink. The desire to be 'taken,' to have a complete loss of control over the situation — participating in something so dirty, so wrong, and loving every second of it so much that you desperately wish for the morality of it to be out of your hands entirely. 'I want it, but wanting it is wrong. Only when stripped of the choice entirely is there true freedom to desire.'

And obviously, she passed it along to him, but the discussion not having happened in full means that now it's up to you to take matters of consent into your own hands.

But slowly raising from his slightly folded position, Doyoung brings his bowl to the sink, rinsing it out, and coming back to you in silence. The discomfort is poignant, so, now you have to ask.

"Color?" You slowly drop from dry lips, and without breaking his suffocating gaze on you, he whispers back pointedly "yellow."

The word exits his mouth quietly, smoothly, as if really trying to drive home to you how much this is not the way these things are supposed to work: Truth of the matter is that you know that, and this should have been discussed at length long before tonight — but you trust him to be able to make the adjustments, and worst case, to stop if you should need him to.

You're hopeful that he trusts you to do all of the same.

Then, he parts his lips to speak again. "—But, green."

It's his way of letting you know that you've gone about this all wrong, but all things considered, he's willing to roll with the punches, anyway. Jutting towards you, Doyoung wraps long fingers around your wrist, ripping you off of the stool and nearly knocking it to the floor as a result; tearing the apron from his waist as he roughly tugs you out of the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs and swings you around to press your back against the shining, platinum railing of the banister in the hallway.

"Why did you wear jeans?" He grunts as he drops to his knees in front of you, quickly pulling apart the button and zipper to roughly drag the tight fabric down your legs.

Frankly, you didn't know that you'd be doing this tonight.

Stepping out of them and shoved down the hallway to be sufficiently out of the way, the man hoists one of your legs up and over his shoulder — one hand digging fingers into the side of the crotch of your panties to grant him quick access to your already anticipatory pussy.

However, him being eye level with your cunt not particularly how you had expected this to go — ever, really.

Looking up at you from between your legs and through devilishly narrow eyes, the man makes one, simple, request: "Tell me about the dream."

Diving into your folds as his tongue presses flat and firm against your clit — the sudden feeling of him having you like this making you dizzy with want, you find yourself entirely unsure how you're expected to recount much of anything to him like this — and especially once he begins unrelenting suction to you that threatens to make you cum almost immediately.

Attempting to bite back your moan, and instead opting for a breathy 'fuck,'  you know well enough that if you don't adhere to the command, he'll most definitely stop.

"Y-you—" there's an attempt to speak at least, until two long, thin fingers bury into you to the last knuckles.

Pulling his mouth away from you and licking at his lips lewdly, he cocks his head to the side playfully. "Better start talking or I'll stop."

"God, okay," you exasperate as he dives back in. "Was...against the wall, you fucked me against the wall — we weren't—"

"Allowed?" He pauses again only long enough to finish your thought with a grin. Nodding quickly, Doyoung still slowly fucking into you with his fingers as he watches you fall apart from above him, he coos at the look and sound of you — perhaps finally coming to an understanding of what all of this is about.

"Good girl," he hums gently, lips brushing against your wet folds without much intent behind the contact. "Can you do me another favor?"

Breathy and already a little fucked out, you whisper out a "yes."

"Come on my mouth."

Leaning up and into you again, tongue firm into your clit with tight, intensive swirls — it doesn't take long for you to follow through as one hand falls down and wraps into his hair — holding him firm in place as you involuntarily grind down against his mouth as you come blindingly hard onto him. Long since needed and the orgasm from the night in the kitchen hardly offering the release you had been looking for — Doyoung lending his face to you in such a lewd, particularly out of character act of a blending of roles — as you come down slowly from your high, you watch the man pull away and out of you with a gentle ease, sucking his fingers clean of you before wiping his face with the back of his hand and standing tall in front of you.

 "Want to fuck your best friends husband, but don't want to be responsible for the repercussions of it, huh?"

 You just came, but the promise of getting exactly the fantasy that you wish for out of this throbbing between your legs pooling just as if you hadn't.

You don't even get to answer before the same, dominant hand is wrapped up in the hair at the back of your head and pushing you down the hallway, towards the bedroom.

Stumbling inside as he roughly pulls you around, once the both of you reach the edge of the bed, Doyoung sits you down just in front of him — not letting you free of his grasp, but instead with his other hand, freeing his growing erection from his pants and pulling your mouth against him harshly.

Of course, you take him in with ease.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth like this," he groans from above you, eyes glued to the place where he disappears inside of you. "Always knew you wanted me, that's why you always act like that, just need me to put you in your place, don't you?"

Moaning at the words and around his dick as he shallowly presses inside of your wet mouth, speed slowly picking up with each passing moment as he continues to talk you through it. "What are we going to do if my wife finds out? Suppose we just can't let that happen, can we?"

You hate the way the thought has you clenching down hard.

"That's why you're over here so much, isn't it?" Doyoung asks through gritted teeth as he continues fucking into your mouth, gently prodding at the back of your throat with each thrust. "Just begging for me to fuck your mouth? You love my cock, don't you?"

Pulling his length from you only long enough for you to answer back and breathy 'yes,' he sheaths himself inside all over again

Only a few more thrusts before grunting, Doyoung pulling himself from your mouth to fist over his cock and lined up with your face — you display your mouth open with tongue flat as he comes over your flesh again — warm, heavy ropes of himself painting your face and mouth before quickly angling your head down again to place his length between your lips for you to suck him clean, as well.

Holding your head back again and bringing his other hand up, thumb spreading the wetness of the act across your lips, chin and cheeks before shoveling most of it into your mouth as your lips close around his thumb to suck the digit clean just as you have with his cock — groaning into the look and sensation of it, Doyoung gently taps the inside of his fingers against your jaw, signaling for you to open your mouth all over again as he shoves two fingers in to swirl around the mixture of cum and spit collected there.

Slipping back and away from you, the command comes through simply. "Swallow."

You do so without question.

Wiping your mouth with your shoulder and taking in a heavy breath, you sigh out while looking up at him. "We can't ever let her find out about this?"

But glancing down at you with the most evil look in his eye, you watch as a single corner of his mouth gently pulls up,

 "You think I'm done with you?"

 It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your pussy, Doyoung suddenly reaching forward to turn you around and bent over the bed as he pulls your soiled panties roughly to the side with a tear. Rubbing the head of his cock through your soaking slit and against your still sensitive clit, you grip hard into the sheets beneath you, attempting to pull away from him but to no avail as he grips fingers roughly into your hips to keep you precisely in place and displayed before him.

"Think you can take it all, baby?" He sighs, leisurely stroking himself back to full hardness as his tip slowly begins to split your pussy open from behind. "Can you be a good girl for me, take the whole thing?"

Whimpering against the mattress at the desperate, delicious burn of his cock finally entering you after so long — what feels like a lifetime of desiring having him buried inside of your walls, finally being granted to you with slow, almost delirious ease as he sinks into you from the back, you answer him honestly. "N-no."

"I don't think so, either," he responds with a comfortable ease as he continues with his initial stroke. "But you're going to try, aren't you? Not used to taking such a big dick?"

"No, fuck, Doyoung—"

"God you want this so bad, already so fucked out on my dick and I'm not even inside all of the way," gently pulling his hips back only to rock back inside, even such a simple movement granting him a cry out from between your dry lips. Leaning forward and over your back to plant a hand down between your shoulders and holding you in place, Doyoung repeats the action again to elicit the same response from you all over again.

"Oh, you love a big cock," he grits out through his teeth as he finally settles into a rhythmic pace against your behind. "You love my cock. Say you didn't want to do this, didn't want to go through with this, but I don't think that's true at all, is it?"

Pulling out far enough for only the tip of him to remain inside of you before drilling back hard into your cunt, you nearly cry at the unrelenting pressure of him against your walls, and in particular, against your g-spot. Thighs trembling and stomach tightening with every full, hard drive of himself into you, it's an attempt to form a full thought but instead, the words come out as only babbled sobs as he drives hard and firm into you.

"Do-Doyoung, fuck, 'm gonna, 'm—p-please, please, fuck—"

"You gonna come, baby?" The question comes through with hastened, airy breaths as if close himself. "Come around my dick for me? Wanna earn my cum?"

Nodding fast against the mattress, he grunts into a particularly hard thrust against you. "Make your lil cunt so messy."

Pulling himself back up into a straighter, standing position at the edge of the bed, fingers firmly dug into the flesh of your waist as he pulls you back hard onto his cock — the sudden angle change toppling you over into your orgasm unexpectedly as you cry out for him and curl your own nails into the sheets beneath you as your release rips through your body — simultaneously, Doyoung falling victim to the way your pussy clenches down around his length, fucking you roughly through your orgasm as he reaches his own with bit back, throaty moan at the way your cunt nearly milks his cum from him with little movement and so much ease — burying himself so deep into your guts that it threatens to hurt and whining at the near pain of having him so fully inside of you as he coats your walls.

Chests rising and falling, Doyoung pulls from you and falling next to you, it's much to your surprise when familiar hands tug you to the side and seated over his hips.

 "Split yourself open on my cock and come again."

 The words themselves nearly enough to do you in, but with the unrelenting throb of your untouched clit impossible to ignore, you follow the command as you position your hips over his impressively hard length and wasting no time burying him inside of your messy, cummed-in cunt all over again.

Leaning back ever so slightly and quickly rubbing circles into your clit for his viewing pleasure as he pulls the sweatshirt still clinging to his chest up to expose more skin of his abs and chest — reaching your free hand down, you touch over the skin there, feeling more of him and the way his abs reach to not only your touch, but the visual just in front of him.

"Fuck," you whimper, already feeling the threat of another orgasm building as your walls squeeze tightly around his seated shaft. "Fuck, Doie—"

The pet name.

"God, don't call me that, I'll come in your little pussy all over again," he nearly whines through an exhausted chuckle. It's a sort of endearing, almost break in character that you're not used to seeing from the man.

"Come on baby, be a good girl and come for me," he starts again with a fucked out whisper as he watches you twist circles into your pussy just above where his length disappears inside of you. "Show me just how bad you wanted me inside of you."

Toes curling and teeth gritting as it washes over you all over again — a nearly silent scream of an orgasm as your mouth hangs open through your release — a similar, quiet groan from the man beneath you as he watches and feels you come on him for the third time tonight.

 He takes his jobs very seriously.

 Giving you a moment to calm before heaving you off of him and standing in front of you again, as you sit up to meet his dick with your lips just as before, you can't help but be seriously impressed by his ability to maintain an erection.

You're beginning to understand why Mina married him, after all.

"Clean me up," he commands, hand gently weaved into the back of your head in such a familiar way. "Enjoy it while you can, it's the last time you'll get to taste me."

True as it is, you find yourself surprisingly somber at the thought of this being the end of the arrangement, as agreed upon. Far from an emotional connection, but rather, a mental one — a mutual understanding between physical lovers. The trust, the communication, and safety inherent in this particular pairing of people.

Plus, his cock is perfect and he fucks like a pornstar.

Licking up the length of his shaft, truly savoring the taste of his cum and your own mixed along it before taking him deep into your mouth and bobbing slowly, carefully, full of intent along his cock — partially for the show of it, and partially because yes, it's the last time, and you'll miss this more than you might have thought you would going in.

"You're amazing," Doyoung sighs, gently pulling his length from between your lips and folding over just enough to be only a few centimeters off from your own face with his. "Open."

Obeying the command and jaw falling slack, the man allowing the collection of saliva from his mouth to drip lewdly into your own — missing direction ever so slightly and catching partially at the corner of your mouth — Doyoung brings a hand up to thumb at the messy corner before finally closing the distance between both of your mouths and pulling you into a full, intense, passionate kiss — tongue immediately pushing forward to lick at the inside of your mouth — it's breathtaking and intimate in a way that nothing else thus far has been.

And pulling away with a single, thin, string of saliva connecting the two of you by mouth yet, Doyoung's lips curl into a sinister grin as his eyes pull from your own, to your lips, then back up to meet your vision again.

 "Happy to help."

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—part 2!

[norrisleclercf1]

Nando/Carlos is 😍😍😍

Have you listened/seen the interview with Nando where they at some point talk about having a family, and he is kind of sad not having that? So you think Carlos/female would bring it up some time during a quite date night, that they want to give Nando the family,with kids and everything - and how would Nando react? 😊

A/N: I never once thought about Fernando and Carlos together but now I can't unsee it. They're oddly perfect for each other

You knew it was the one thing he really wanted, but racing was his life. His back was broad as he leaned over your niece playing with her. She would be staying with you three for a couple of days. Carlos was in love with her, loving the way she was attached to Fernando the most.

She gurgles a mess of sounds, Fernando nodding along as he helps her play with her little blocks. "Yeah, that's it." He kissed her head as she smacks her hands. "Help me with dinner?" Carlos asks, poking your side. Smiling you turn around nodding as you take one last glimpse of your husband and niece.

It's silent for a little bit, the sound of Bluey soon fills the room making Carlos and you giggle. "Do you think?" You start but Carlos just turns, nodding his head. "I'm ready, I'll always be ready for you two. But it's you that needs to be ready." "I think I am." Carlos smiles.

"What are you two doing?" Fernando asks, voice high pitched as he bounces your niece who giggles. "Fuck, give me the baby." Carlos groans taking the sweet girl from him. "What? I didn't do anything wrong." Shocked, but Carlos wouldn't admit that his own metaphorical ovaries were bursting at the sight of Fernando and the baby.

"Fernando, Carlos and I have been talking." His face falls, straightening up, clearing his throat. "Okay, about what?" You can tell he was growing anxious, he kept fiddling with his facial hair. "Do you want to start a family? We can move back to Spain and have children. With us?" Fernando stops, you can see everything run through his head trying to find the words.

"Yes, god yes. I'll always say yes." He bursts pulling you into him, hugging you. "Carlos had to take the baby away from you because," "You looked fucking good and like what is it fans call him?" Calros asks, unable to find the word. "A DILF?" You laugh, Carlos nodding at that.

"Well, I figured I already was with you two. My babies." He teases pinching both your cheeks. You niece squeals, practically flinging herself out of Carlos's arms to Fernando. "Now, let me get some practice in. Yes that's right little one, you'll have a cousin. Mhm." Fernando baby talks, heading back to the living room.

"Yeah, he's going to be killing us." You mummer but Carlos smiles. "But, he'll look fucking hot." You burst into laughter going back to cooking dinner. "If you could, you'd be the pregnant one wouldn't you?" "In a fucking heartbeat, babes."

[yeonzzzn]

✨capturing magic: park sunghoon

a vampires bleeding series: four / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 5.3k

synopsis: your witchy presence causes an uproar with sunghoon, him not enjoying the idea of you being anywhere near him. as you struggle to regain your strength and magic, the banter between you and sunghoon continue grow along with the pull of fate.

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, vampire!sunghoon, photographer!sunghoon, witch!reader, angst, some fluff.

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, y/n has long black hair and facial piercings, stubbornly cute sunghoon ♡

☾ jungwon(1) | jay(2) | jake(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | heeseung(7) ☽

“YOU BROUGHT BACK A WITCH?!” Sunghoon snapped, his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Yes!!” the dhampir snapped back, “We couldn’t leave her there to die!!” 

Sunghoon was filled with anger, blood boiling. 

“Let's all calm down…” Heeseung spoke up, placing a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Sunghoon slapped his hand away, “Hyung, that dhampir bringing this witch here will put us all in danger!!” 

“This witch is one of my best friends!” She yelled, “I wasn’t going to leave her, end of story!” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Yeah, and if we all die it’ll be the damn dhampir’s fault.”

“Hey!” Jake yelled, getting in his best friend's face, “That damn dhampir is my mate, watch your words. She’s in our pack now.” 

The room fell silent. Sunghoon figured he would have connected with the dhampir, the tension between the two was too obvious. 

“And for the record,” Jake said, taking a step back away from Sunghoon, “I’m the one who said to bring the witch here. We need information once she wakes up.” 

Sunghoon looks away from his friend, looking at the witch lying unconscious on the couch. 

He knew Jake was right. In order to stop Dorian, they needed any information possible. 

Sunghoon releases a breath, “Fine, do what you want with the witch.” 

And with that, Sunghoon stormed off. 

—

“Easy does it,” Heeseung grabbed your hands, helping you sit up.

It’s been exactly a week since Dorian burned down your village and killed your coven. You were the only surviving member. 

Your heart ached for those you’ve lost, but you knew their souls were somewhere free from the cruelness of this world. 

Most of your burns have healed from your recovery spell, but you still ached with each movement, making it harder for you to move. On top of that, your right leg was broken. And no recovery spell could make that heal any faster. 

The vampires have shown you kindness for the most part. One in particular doesn’t care for you much. 

Once you were completely sat up, you thanked Heeseung. 

Jay knelt down beside you, looking at the bandages that covered your arms, slowly lifting them up to look at your skin. 

“We can probably remove the bandages,” He said, lifting more of the bandage up to get a better look at your skin, “The only thing is, there’s a lot of scarring.”

You nodded, “Recovery spells can only go so far.” 

Jay removed the bandages, relieving the scars. You didn’t realize how bad they actually were until you looked directly at them. 

Flashbacks to the fire came back, shaking you to the core. You dropped your head into your hands, begging for the thoughts to go away. 

“Y/N,” your best friend drops beside you, her hands set gently on your shoulders, “what’s wrong?” 

Her voice alone was enough to snap you out of it, you quickly looked up at her, giving a nod, “I am fine, the scars just…” 

She sighs, “It brought back the memories?” 

You nodded again.

A scoff happened from across the room. You immediately glared in its direction. 

Sunghoon leaned against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, his black hair falling against his eyes. 

“Got something to say, bloodsucker?” you hissed.

Sunghoon raised a brow, “You gonna put a hex on me or something, witch?” 

You gripped the blanket that covered your legs, “I just might!” 

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. He smiled just enough to show his sharpened fangs and cracked his knuckles. 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Jungwon snapped, looking between the two of you, “This situation isn’t ideal, but we all have one goal in common, so please for the love of everything put your differences to the side and shut the fuck up.” 

Sunghoon sighed, retracting his fangs. 

“Good boy, listen to your leader.” you gave him a wink. 

“Y/N,” Jungwon warned. 

You sighed and relaxed your body. You were powerless in your current situation. 

A pack of vampires and two humans were your only source of protection at the current moment. Your coven was destroyed. This is all you have right now. 

Sunghoon scoffed, then stormed out the door into the night. 

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs to bathe and sleep in a bed finally?” your dhampir friend asks, giving you a soft smile. 

You removed the blanket, and more burn scars trailed down your left leg, while the other was covered in a cast from your knee down. 

You pulled your shorts down, trying to hide the scars. 

“Hey,” Jay’s mate kneels beside your friend, her soft hands taking yours, “These scars are proof that you survived, don’t try to hide them.”

You wanted to protest, to shout that she doesn’t understand what it meant to survive after what you went through. 

But then you noticed the scars on her neck. It didn’t take long for you to recognize that those scars were caused by Dorian. That __ survived almost being killed by him. 

You forced a smile, “These scars don’t just show that I survived, they show what I also lost.” 

“Then you’ll carry them with you forever,” she gives you a soft smile, “It’ll be a reminder of what Dorian has done, and what will be done to get back at him.” 

She was right. You gave her a smile back with a nod. 

Jay pulled his mate up and to his chest, wrapping her in his arms, “__ always knows what to say.” 

Their bond pulled at each of them. Jungwon pulls __ to him and Jake pulls your friend to himself. Sunoo, Niki, and Heeseung had smiles watching their pack. 

You too had a smile. You could feel the bond they shared. Their vibes and how their energies matched. 

You looked at your friend and Jake. The way he held her so tightly and her head in the crease of his neck. 

Your heart danced for them. You knew how much losing her first mate did a number on her. But you truly believe Jake was meant to be hers completely. She just had to go through some bullshit shit first. 

Eventually, you had enough of the love birds, positioning yourself to stand up. 

Your recovery spell healed your broken leg enough that you were able to stand up straight and still walk…but just barely. 

Your half-blooded friend noticed your struggles, releasing herself from Jake to help you up the stairs and into the bathroom. 

The reflection you saw in the mirror haunted you, a burn scar covering your left eye and up the side of your forehead. The recovery magic healed it enough that it was a light pink. 

A sigh escaped your lips, as you turned and faced away from the mirror. 

You cleaned yourself up, washing away the couch bum life you had for the last week. 

You were so glad to finally be able to sleep in a bed. Archer was nice enough to run to the nearest supermarket to buy you extra clothes, bed sheets, and other witchy essentials to have here. 

Your new room was filled with plants and crystals and a few books that Jake was able to salvage from the fire. 

You tried to stay awake to read, but your eyes failed you. After not sleeping in a bed for over a week, it was way too comfortable. 

—

You stood in front of the mirror, pulling your long black hair behind you and into a braid. Your bangs pull out perfectly down the sides of your face. 

Your half-blooded friend brought you some jewelry to wear, which you were ecstatic about. 

Witches can’t go without jewelry, right?

You pull some rings onto your fingers, then dangle earrings into your ears. 

A perfectly black hooped nose ring suited your nose and a lace choker around your neck and a short silver bar on your eyebrow. 

You pulled a white cropped tank top over you and a black baggy pair of cargo pants and black boot, and black cast boot on your right leg to match. 

A beautiful light brown cardigan made the outfit even more perfect. 

You did a three-sixty in the mirror, finally feeling and looking like yourself. 

You stared at the scar on your eye. You traced your fingers over it, feeling the rough skin. 

Dropping your hand back at your side, you turn and walk away from the mirror. 

The kitchen was lively, and laughter from your new friends echoed up the stairs as you made your way down. 

Jay stood at the counter flipping pancakes and bacon, a bag of blood attached to his lips. 

The two humans stood behind Jay, begging him to hurry with breakfast and Jay tried his best to shoo them off. 

Jake sat with __ on the couch. She ate a bowl of cereal while Jake drank his own bag of blood. 

Sunoo, Jungwon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table with a map in front of them discussing the layout of the area. 

Niki also sat at the table, backpack in his lap, and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a juice box. 

You giggled and walked over to the table, “You really are stuck in a seventeen-year-old body arentcha?” 

Niki rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately.” 

Heeseung checked his watch, “Off to school.” 

Niki groaned, throwing his head back against the wall, “This fucking sucks.” 

You softly smiled at the younger, “I’ll walk you out.” 

Niki stood up, throwing the backpack on. 

You went to the fridge, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water. The piles of blood bags filled the bottom shelf. 

Seeing the bags reminded you that one bloodsucker in particular was missing. 

“Where’s the idiot bloodsucker at?” you asked anyone who would give you an answer. 

Jake perked up, “That idiot bloodsucker has a name,” you shrugged your shoulders, and Jake sighed, “He’s outside doing his photography.” 

Your dhampir friend smiles at you, “Worried about him, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes, “He annoys me.” 

She smirked at you, “You look pretty.” 

You toss your braid over your shoulder, “Of course I do, part of being a witch is also being charming.” 

The vampires groan, which you expected. They might be being nice to you for the moment, but witches and vampires still don’t get along. 

You grabbed a blood bag along with your other items and closed the fridge. 

You patted Niki’s back, “Come on baby bro, let’s get you off to school.” 

—

Sunghoon sat up in a tree, camera in hand, and snapping photos of the open land. 

The morning sunrise hit the land perfectly. He changed a few filter and lens settings, finding the perfect combination. 

His mood changed once he heard the door to the house open, sensing Niki and you stepping out of the house. 

Sunghoon turned around, watching as you waved Niki off, him going into a full sprint and gone within seconds. 

You took a bite out of the apple in your hands, looking around until you made eye contact with him. 

Sunghoon glared before turning his attention back to his camera. 

“You lack a lot of manners bloodsucker, ya know that?” 

Sunghoon scoffed, looking down at you who was now underneath him. 

“Why do you care about my manners, hmm?” 

“Haven’t you heard? We have a common goal, gotta act like friends, don’t want Jungwon to snap our necks, right?” You loved teasing him. You loved how irritated you made him and how you knew exactly what to say to get under his skin. 

Deep down you really wanted to get along with all the vampires, Sunghoon was just the only one not budging. 

Sunghoon ignored you, his jaw clenched as he held the camera back up. 

You whistle at him, his eyebrow rising. 

Sunghoon was fixing to snap, “I know for a fact you didn’t just whistle at me like I am a dog.” 

“Look at me then.” You said. 

Sunghoon looked back at you, a warm smile on your face. 

You tossed the blood bag up to him, Sunghoon catching it. 

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?” 

All Sunghoon could do was stare at the bag, his tough exterior relaxing. 

“Thank you,” was all he could say. 

You smiled even brighter, taking another bite out of your apple. 

Sunghoon drank the blood as you finished off your apple and drank your water. 

“Can I see your work?” You asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Sunghoon glared at you again, “Why do you care?” 

You sigh, “Because believe it or not, we are kinda stuck with each other, soooo.” 

Sunghoon rolled his head, running a hand through his hair. 

He knew you were right. 

“You won’t put a hex on me if I come down, will ya hex girl?” 

You glared at him, “No you idiot!” 

Sunghoon smirked, “Sassy much, hex girl?” 

“Continue pushing my buttons and you’ll see, bloodsucker.” 

This small banter admittedly made Sunghoon happy. You were the first person to get under his skin and make it crawl, but returned every ounce of energy he gave out. 

Sunghoon flung himself down from the tree, waving you over. 

One by one, Sunghoon showed you all the photos he took this morning. 

“These are really beautiful, bloodsucker,” you said, patting his shoulder, “But it’s missing something.” 

Sunghoon once again glared at you, “Missing what, exactly?” 

You smile, pointing at yourself, “A model!” 

Sunghoon furrowed his brows at you, “I don’t need you in my photos hex girl, might put a curse on them.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Come on, just snap a few pictures.” 

Sunghoon wanted to protest, why should he take photos of his enemy? 

But with the way you looked right now, Sunghoon knew with the sunrise and open fields, you would be a perfect fit. 

He nodded, “Fine.” 

You smiled, skipping away from him. 

Sunghoon lifted his camera, snapping a few photos of you skipping. 

You stopped and quickly turned around, the biggest smile on your face. Sunghoon snapped that as a photo, his stomach doing flips. 

The way your lips curled as you smiled. How the sun brought out the color of your eyes. The way your hair fell and blew in the wind. 

Sunghoon stared at the photo. You were so beautiful. 

“Hey!” You snapped Sunghoon out of his trance, “Are you going to stare at the camera or tell me how to be a good model?” 

Sunghoon smiled, “Just…be you.” 

You thought about it, deciding to make a joke, “What if I do Wanda Maximoff poses? Like Scarlet Witch Style?”

Sunghoon blinked at you, “Can you actually do magic like that?” 

You glared at him, “No! I’m a witch, not a superhuman.”

Sunghoon glared back, “Well, I didn’t know what all you witches can do!” 

“Just think of us witches as hippies, just that we don’t smoke a shit ton of weed.” 

Sunghoon chuckled, his hand clenching his shirt from his laughter.

“What is so funny?” You tried to not laugh as well, but his laugh was contagious. 

“Just the way you explained witches,” Sunghoon took a deep breath, “I’ve only ever been in contact with witches who use darker magic, you’re the first who doesn’t.” 

You studied him and his smile, his natural fangs being present with his smile. 

You haven’t seen him smile at all since you met a week ago. 

You walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him. 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “What are you doing? Get away from me.” 

You sighed, “There’s that tough exterior.” 

You placed your hand on his cheek, he pulled away, but reached back for him, connecting your palm to his skin. 

Sunghoon’s heart was racing at your touch, his jaw locking together. 

You breathed in, “You have such a tough exterior, but are so caring and soft underneath it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo shit on me.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

It was the first time you actually called him by his name, and oh did it do numbers on him. 

He made eye contact with you, and immediately after, you backed away from him. 

Sunghoon knew why. There was a spark of electric energy that shot through the both of you, that small string slowly getting tied, but being still loose. 

He shook his head, not letting it tighten. 

“I’m going back to the house.” Sunghoon quickly turned and walked away, leaving you. 

You touched your chest, looking down at the ground. 

“What the fuck was that.” 

—

Sunghoon spent the rest of the day locked inside his room, flipping through the photos he had taken earlier that morning, stopping at the one of you. 

His heartstrings were being pulled. The moment of the string being attached to the both of you came back into his mind. 

“I can’t mate with a damn witch, it’s impossible,” he whispered to himself. 

But the more he looked at your photo, the more his heart called to you. 

He turned the camera off, set it on the bedside table, rolled over, and fell asleep. 

He woke up at the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. 

Sunghoon stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. 

He checked the time off his phone, rolling his eyes at the time. 

Sunghoon quickly got out of bed, sliding his sneakers on before walking out of his room, seeing the door to your bedroom was open. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “What the hell is she doing?” 

He found you outside by the pond sitting on the ground. Glass bottles filled with herbs sat in front of you, and a small fire was lit to your right. 

“It’s three a.m.,” he yawned, “why the hell are you outside at three a.m.” 

You turned and smiled at him, “I’m doing witchy things.” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “I already figured that, hex girl. I’m asking what exactly you are doing.” 

You turned back to the herbs, slowly mixing them together and setting them into the fire. 

“Don’t you know the witching hour is three a.m.?” 

Sunghoon shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Yes, isn’t that when your powers are at their strongest? Just like us on a new moon.”

“Exactly,” you sang, “My powers are only stronger for an hour, plus the protection barrier I put around the house was fading due to my injuries from the fire. I need to revamp my recovery spell as well, so these scars go away.” 

Sunghoon’s heart pulled towards you even more, you were sacrificing so much to protect everyone, to protect him when he does nothing but be an ass towards you. 

You stood up, brushing the dirt off your sweatpants, “The barrier on the house has been fixed, so yay!” 

Sunghoon nodded.

“But I ran out of herbal recovery leaves, so I need more of that to remove all these burn marks.” 

You started to walk away, only for Sunghoon to grab your arm.

You raised a brow at him, noticing how serious his face looked at you, “What?”

Sunghoon walked closer to you, tracing his fingers over the massive pink scar on your face, “You’re beautiful as you are,” his fingers moved over every inch of the scar, before moving down your cheek, his palm cupping your face, “You’re so beautiful, scars and all.” 

Your heart raced. He thought you were beautiful? You thought he hated you. But you couldn’t help but feel that tug to him, and notice his energy was matching that tug. 

“What is this feeling?” You asked, “This energy that’s flowing between us? It wasn’t there before today.” 

Sunghoon reached for your hand with his free hand, his eyes meeting yours, “It’s the string of fate.” 

You looked at him confused, “String of fate?” 

“When vampires meet their mates, a string of fate ties them together,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, “And I think we might have a string of fate tying around us.” 

“Is that another way of saying we are soulmates?” You made a grossed-out face at him, which earned you a glare. 

“Don’t look at me like that hex girl, you act like it’s a choice.” 

“Is it not?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Trust me if it was, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” 

“Must be spine-chilling knowing your string of fate is probably being tied to a witch.” you teased him. 

Sunghoon half smiled, biting his lower lip, “You know for someone who was the head witch of your coven and village, you sure don’t know a lot about vampires.” 

You rolled your eyes, finally pushing his hand from your face, “I was only recently appointed as head witch, it’s not something I wanted.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, “It’s like Jungwon being our leader, I don’t think he thought he was fit enough.” 

“Jungwon is doing fanatic, better than I was.” 

“I bet you were fine—“

“If I were fine,” you took a deep breath in, “Then Dorian wouldn’t have found a way to break the barrier over my village and wouldn’t have burnt down to ashes and killed my whole coven.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, embracing you, “I am so sorry they didn’t get to you in time. The moment Dorian would have been near Jake we would have known, we would have been there in seconds and…” 

“And what, bloodsucker?” 

“I could have saved you and your coven.” 

You looked up at him, “You hate me, hate witches, why do that?” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, pushing your long hair behind your ear, “I would have gone to protect Jake, he’s my best friend after all, but I would have met you sooner, and could have prevented what happened.” 

You stepped away from him, tears filling your eyes and not wanting him to see it. 

“I couldn’t have stopped what happened, but I can do something now to protect you and my pack.” 

You made eye contact with him, once again feeling that string of fate, it pulled your hearts together, you could feel and see the red energy wrap around the two of you, but you could also feel Sunghoon’s heart trying to reject it. 

“We can’t be mates, you won’t allow it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo on me.” 

you scoffed, “I’m not using voodoo! I am using my—“

“Just shut up and come over here and kiss me.” 

You stared at him, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You chuckled, “What?” 

“Y/N,” your heart stopped at hearing how beautifully your name rolled off his tongue, “I am fighting to push out that string of fate. Anytime I’ve thought about who my mate would be, I never once pictured it would be you. Yet here you are in front of me. We are total opposites and two different types of creatures. And if you go back into that house and ignore this fate, then we will continue this back and forth. But if you come over here and kiss me, I swear I’ll be good to you.” 

God damn that string of fate and god damn this vampire. 

You rushed to him, standing on your tiptoes to reach his lips. His hands found your waist. The red energy of this fate tied you two into a knot. Bonding you as mates. 

“Goddammit, hex girl,” he whispered in between kisses.

“Goddamnit, bloodsucker,” you whispered back. 

Sunghoon sat against the tree, with you between his legs. Back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. 

You leaned your head against his chin, watching as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon. 

“How long were you the head witch?” Sunghoon asked, taking your hands in his. 

You sighed, “Only two years, I was next in line but I didn’t want it.” 

“Why didn’t you?” Sunghoon was curious. Witches were something totally different than vampires, dhampirs, and even werewolves, their way of life was completely in the opposite direction. 

“I didn’t feel as if I was ready,” you leaned more into him, “I don’t have as many years on me as some of the other warlocks and witches in the village.” 

“And what time period are you from exactly?” Sunghoon teased. 

“I saw the Salem Witch Trials happen.” 

“Gosh you’re so old!” he teased you more, planting kisses on your cheek. 

“Oh shut up!” you shoved your back into his chest, “I can NOT believe I am stuck with you until the world ends.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart.” 

You both laughed and leaned more into each other. 

“Can I take a photo of us?” Sunghoon asked, “I want to capture this moment.” 

You nodded and he pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“No camera?” you teased. 

“Phone cameras work just as well.” 

You looked into the phone's camera and gasped, “Oh my god! I can see your reflection!” 

Sunghoon dropped his arm and rolled his eyes, “Shut up with your stupid ass jokes and take a nice photo with me, hex girl.”

You decided to stop teasing him and smiled into the camera. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of the two of you, the happiness he felt, he could see it written all over his face. 

“You know, I’ve never captured something as beautiful as you.” 

You looked up at him, “And I’ve never thought I’d have my own personal photographer to take model photos of me.”

“God you’re so annoying.”

Hand in hand, you followed Sunghoon back to the house. 

Everyone was awake and stopped everything they were doing in shock at the sight they were seeing. 

“Who would have thought,” Jake teased.

Sunghoon tried hard to fight back his smile, “Shut up.” 

Everyone laughed and joked along. 

You were happy. 

The moment you bonded with Sunghoon, you felt the same bond with the others, including your best friend and the humans in the pack. 

It wasn’t like your coven, but the bond was still there. You belonged somewhere again. 

You looked up at your mate, his smile working numbers on your heart. God you loved him so much already. 

But Sunghoon’s smile faded, and so did the other vampire's smiles. 

The room fell silent. The humans and you are both confused, clearly not being able to hear what they are hearing. 

“Something isn’t right,” Heeseung said quietly. 

“Sunghoon?” you take your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand tightly.

Before Sunghoon could open his mouth to speak, you sensed the other presence. 

You dropped your mate's hand, and slowly back away. 

You looked at your half-blooded friend, she was already looking at you. 

“Dorian...” you whispered, “He broke the protection barrier.” 

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, “Guys what do we do?” 

Before any more could be said, you and __ were running towards the door.” 

“No no no!!” Sunghoon and Jake both yelled, grabbing ahold of you and her. 

“Jake, fucking let go of me!!” she screamed. 

You also fought off Sunghoon’s grip on your arm, “Let go of me!” you hissed. 

“I am not letting you go out there!” He snapped.

You managed to get out of his hold and were out the door. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon yelled, going after you. 

__ released Jake’s grip and was following behind. 

Everyone else was right behind. 

Dorian stood at the edge of the pond, two women standing at his side, and a black portal opened behind him. 

You clenched your fist and you stood in front of him at a distance. 

“Dorian!” you hissed. 

“I see you survived being burned,” he laughed, “You unfortunately didn’t get the fate as your coven did.” 

“How dare you speak of them!” You took a step forward, only to be stopped by Sunghoon getting in front of you. 

Sunghoon glared down at Dorian, his rage hitting its peak. 

Dorian laughed, “Oh this is too good! Two enemies mated? This pack continues to surprise me.” He glances over at your best friend with Jake also at her side, “Ahh, nice to see you again, __. I also see you’ve mated again.” 

“Shut up!” the dhampir snapped, “Don’t you dare bring him up!! You murderer!!” 

Dorian’s laughter grew louder the more he made eye contact with each member of the pack. 

Jungwon and Jay have death grips on their mates. Their eyes narrowed and their jaws clenched.

“I would love to stay and chat up with you guys, but I only came for two of your mates, and that is all.” Dorian looked at the women at his sides, “Ladies will you do the honors?” 

The women both smiled and disappeared. 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, those two weren’t like normal vampires. 

“He used magic..” you whispered, “He figured out how to read the spells he stole from my coven.” 

Dorian’s laughter filled the air and it only made Sunghoon rage even more. 

With one blink of an eye, one of the women was at Sunghoon’s side, and then she was gone. She reappeared back at Dorian’s side with you in front of her, a knife pressed against your neck, the sharp edge making a cut, a small stream of blood dripping down. 

The other woman reappeared with the dhampir at Dorian’s side. 

As if on command, Sunghoon and Jake both rushed forward. 

They weren’t thinking clearly. Their brains fogged and only had their sights on their mates. 

Heeseung made it in time to grab Sunghoon, pulling him back, and Sunoo for Jake. 

“GIVE HER BACK!!” Sunghoon screamed, “FUCKING GIVE HER BACK TO ME.” 

“Sunghoon calm down,” Heeseung shouted, “He’s going to kill them both if you take one more step.” 

Sunghoon stopped fighting Heeseung, but Sunoo struggled to keep Jake at bay, until Heeseung repeated the same words again, causing Jake to fall to his knees. 

“Good,” Dorian said, “Would have been a shame to kill your mates in front of you.” 

“What do you want with our pack members!?” Jungwon snapped a low growl leaving his lips when he yelled. 

“I have some unfinished business with them,” Dorian stared down at Jungwon’s mate, causing Jungwon to press __ even closer to him, “I have some unfinished business with all of you actually, but Y/N and this dhampir are more important. They have something I need.” 

Sunghoon went to take a step, just to be stopped by hearing your whimpers as the knife was pressed harder against your neck. 

“Now then,” Dorian turned and faced the portal, “We shall be taking our leave then.”

He stepped through the portal, the women slowly following behind him. 

Sunghoon and Jake tried fighting Heeseung and Sunoo again. 

Both scream out for their mates.

Sunghoon felt powerless as he watched you disappear through the portal, quickly closing up after you stepped through. 

The last thing you saw was the tears that filled Sunghoon’s eyes. 

Once you were gone, all Sunghoon could do was fall to his knees, his fingers dug into the dirt as he stared down. 

The sounds of Jake’s cries muffled out. 

No one ever told Sunghoon how it would feel to have your mate taken from you, to feel the distance of how far they were. The loneliness of them not being at your side. 

Sunghoon couldn’t hold in his rage as he let out a yell until his voice was gone and his throat sore. 

The last thing Sunghoon remembered was Heeseung pulling him off the ground and dragging him into the house. 

—

Everyone sat in silence the next morning. 

Jake sat in the corner of the living room, knees to his chest and head on his knees, tuning out the world. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of you he had taken with his camera. His hands shook. 

“Dorian is going to pay.” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I am going to make him pay for the things he’s done and get my mate back.”

[justjams2003]

Cuddles for Breakfast

Happy father’s day, and to all those without fathers I hope you make the best of this day. This is here for a little celebration!

Pairing: Henry Cavill x wife!reader

Summary: You and your daughter surprise Henry for father’s day.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Word count: 562

Her name is Sophia, it seemed so obvious when you held her in your hands for the first time. Henry agreed instantly. It was just something in her violently curly black hair and a button nose that just screamed Sophia. And before you knew she’s already three years old.  

She’s grown up to be a confident little girl. Like said, she has Henry’s unruly black curls and his intense blue eyes. But your husband swears up and down that she has your attitude. A sharp tongue and even wiser than anyone outside your family would know.  

“How do you feel, pretty girl?” You ask, watching as she analysis the hairdo you had done for her. “It’s perfect, Mommy.” Her eyes shine bright and she flashes you a smile directly stolen from your husband. You can’t help yourself and pepper kisses all over her little face. Watching her little button nose scrunch up.  

A giggle pours out of the bathroom before you press your finger against your lip. “Shh, my smart girl, you’re gonna’ wake Papa up.” You wink at her as her eyes grow big and she shakes her head. Then you scoop her up and place her on your hip.  

“Are you going to carry the presents, while Moma brings the food?” You explain, watching when you put her down and she pets Kal, who absolutely adores her. She mumbles an agreement and grabs the present. She scolds ever so slightly when he almost makes her trip.  

You give her the go-ahead when you finally reach the bedroom. Both of you seem to stop and admire him sleeping so peacefully. His broad form takes up most of the bed. His chest rise and fall and his own curls splayed across his cushion and forehead.  

That is quickly interrupted by Soph running and jumping on the bed. “Papa, papa! Wake up, wake up!” She screams with glee, seeing out so much to this. Since you told her what you were planning, she’s been ‘planning’ with you.  

Now, finally, that the time has come she is just bouncing with excitement. Henry’s blue eyes snap open, thinking the worst before seeing his little girl beam down at him. His hands reach up and grab her, also peppering her with kisses.  

“Good morning, my two most special girls.” He beams at you, gently grabbing your arm after you place the breakfast tray in his lap. Placing affable kissing on your wrist. “And why am I being so spoiled this morning?” He asks little Sophia, pulling her close into his side.  

“Happy Father’s Day, papa!” she grins handing him her present package. He can already feel the tears forming. He never thought that this would happen. That he would be in such a position to have two of his own beautiful girls pampering him.  

“Really?” He canvases your facial expression, still struggling to believe that this is his life. “Yes, papa. Open your present.” His little girl answers for you and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say no. He does as instructed, cooing and praising Sophia for her many Father’s Day paintings and drawings, all covered with glitter of course.  

Then he pulls out the new Warhammer painting set, limited edition, you got him and a fancy bottle of decades-old Bourbon. And after that, he shares his breakfast and cuddles his girls close.  

[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee 01 | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk (more to come in upcoming chapters cuz i dont wanna spoil anything.)

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: cursing. choking. tiny fluff. baby angst.

• WC: 3.5k

• a/n: make sure to read the teaser so everything makes sense ♡ please dont hesitate to send me an ask and tell me what you think! happy reading <3

taglist form (please fill in the form if you want to be added to my taglist ♡)

index.

previous/next

"Y/N! Can you fucking stop for a minute?" Jungkook yelled after you as you stomp away from the ballroom, where the company event was advancing.

Well, long story short, you made a scene at the event earlier that evening. You were so exasperated about your parents planning something behind your back, and making your decisions on your behalf, that you just- ran. You ran away. You couldn't take it anymore, too many people, too many noises, too many things happening all at once.

You were practically suffocating. So taken aback by the sudden new piece of information, that your breath caught in your throat. Speaking of which...

As you resume your stomping, you realize that the steps that have been following you for the past 15 minutes suddenly stop. You halt, just when you hear Jungkook pant; "Can we talk? Please?"

He takes a few steps toward you, his long strides causing him to end up just a few inches behind you. He's close enough, you can sense his presence as he places his hand on your waist. "How do your tiny legs move so goddamn fast?" He chuckles, the breathy action rising goosebumps on your neck.

Snap out of it, Y/N!

You turn around, and when your eyes meet his galaxy ones, you just about take in your surroundings.

You walked away far enough into a quiet neighborhood. The type where there are a few townhouses lined up on either side of the street. The type where flickering stoplights provide dim- somewhat romantic- lighting. But this isn't romantic for you, not in the least. This is Jungkook you’re talking about.

You take a deep breath as you struggle to find your voice. "First of all, Jeon, my legs aren't tiny." okay...that was weak as hell...goddamnit.

Your face blushes a deep shade of crimson when you realize how weak of a comeback that was. Almost 1st grade shit.

Your eyebrows scrunch in irritation after Jungkook places his hand on your waist yet again, forcing you closer to him. "Oh, yeah?" You almost stumble in the process, causing him to smirk in response, "They look pretty tiny to me, bumblebee."

You push him away as you try to distance yourself from him. "Don't fucking call me that." You seethe, he laughs. The movement of his lips catches you off guard. It sounds so graceful that you let yourself get lost in the moment- in Jungkook; his chocolate eyes that hold as much as the galaxy holds in terms of beauty. His lips, the little arch of a bow on the top lip resting on top of the fuller, lower one. The slope of his nose, the messy ruffle of his hair, he's just so...ethereal.

Your eyes soften as you take his beauty in, and your lips lift in a small adoring smile. Suddenly, the world melts away as you truly take the time to bask in his beauty. You can't help it- you were never able to control your facial expressions. One look at the man before you, and all your troubles disappear- as if they were never there- as soon as your eyes rest on his magnificent features. Features that could have very possibly been sculpted by the gods and gifted by the heavens themselves.

Now, Jungkook is the one that's caught off guard. "What?" He blushes. He fucking blushes. A light rosy pink kisses his cheeks just when his eyes grow double the size. You could've never imagined a more adorable sight than this. This whole scene is unbelievable. So unbelievable that you want to forget how mad you were at jungkook, and that you had to marry him in- oh my god! How the hell could you forget?!

"There's no way in hell I'm marrying you." You rush out.

All traces of the earlier blush on Jungkook's cheeks vanish as his face contorts to form a frown. "Fucking hell." He scoffs. "You've become even more annoying than ever, huh?" He glares at you in disbelief.

You return the glare with utmost disgust as you sneer; "Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook. I hate you." The words roll off your tongue tasting bitter. They've always said that the truth tastes bitter though...right?

"Likewise." He answers.

"Y/N, can I come in?" Your mother's muffled voice resounds behind your closed bedroom door.

"Ugh. I feel like shit." You mumble as you slip further under the sheets of the bed, nevertheless shouting a response, "What is it, Mom?"

You've been locked in your room for the whole day, refusing to interact with your family, and avoiding all three of them.

Turns out, your brother, Mingyu, knew about it all along. He was all up for you marrying Jungkook, considering Jungkook was incredibly popular back in the high school days, and even more so now. He claims that not only will you gain even more clout as a CEO's daughter, but you'll also become a billionaire's wife. "All your needs will be fulfilled", "Your parents know best", "Jungkook will treat you right"...a bunch of crap, and you're having none of it.

"Y/N. This behavior is unacceptable coming from a girl of such high responsibility." Your mother starts. "What will you do all day?! Sit in this crappy room and do nothing? Not on my watch, young lady. You have a whole lot of planning to do, and I'm having none of this crap." She finishes off with her hands on her hips as she frowns down at your slumped figure, your head resting against the headboard.

"You think it's fair of you to treat me like this when you were planning to marry me off to somebody without my consent?" You frown. You had a point, nobody can deny. In this society, arranged marriages resembled ancient relics from an outdated history. No one did that anymore, nor were they interested in the concept. Consent, people. Consent.

"Y/N, I don't think you quite understand the position we were in. Some things happened that you...still don't know of." Excuse you? There's more? "I want you to hear me out until I finish what I have to say. Please be patient." Well, there goes your heartbeat at 150 per minute. You probably need to go to a cardiologist.

"First off, based off of the analytics of HG enterprise- marketing, sales, and publicity- the analysts estimated about a year before the company goes bankrupt." Woah. That was not what you were expecting your mother to say. Your dad had always boasted about how successful HG was, so where is all of this coming from?

"But why? I thought it was doing fine?" Your confusion is beyond eminent on your features at this point, the earlier irritation long gone, and reciprocated with intrigue. Your mother takes a deep breath before she continues; "Unfortunately, there came a time when no agencies would accept any collaboration with us, claiming our concept to be too cliché or overused." She purses her lips.

HG: Heterogeneity; the quality or state of being diverse in character or content. At first, HG Enterprise was well-accepted into the industry for its wide diversity of lingerie. Generally, many women often complained about not finding the right size of lingerie, or not being satisfied with the designs as they were always too bland or too wild. Although, with HG Enterprise being an open-ended brand with various options to choose from, there was never an issue, which is why this issue is hard to digest.

"After the company did well based on the concept for the past years, modeling agencies only now started showing dissatisfaction regarding collaborations. To this day, the conflict seems rather peculiar as it doesn't seem logical, but nothing makes sense in the fashion/business industry, as they say."

"As much as this breaks my heart to hear, where does the part where you all lied to me come into play?" Your dad loved the company, so of course, you're not going to be happy hearing about the business going downhill.

You're about to question your Mom again, but she speaks, "Just when your dad was considering selling the company off to someone and retiring-", You interrupt, "Wait, what? Selling it?" Your eyes bulge. Your dad loved the company with all his heart, considering he built it all from scratch and had no base to start with. He did it all on his own, so giving it up must be hard for him.

"Let me talk, young lady." Your mother shushes you as she resumes her explanation. "Out of all the things your dad expected to happen, it wasn't Jeon Jungkook contacting him himself, suggesting an offer when HG was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy."

Your eyebrows almost shoot to your hairline. "Your father contacted him back, requesting a meeting, and he immediately agreed. When they met up, Mr. Jeon's offer was quite generous...and surprising." Your mother tries to hide a smile as you straighten further and wait quietly for her to drop the bomb, resembling a five-year-old with big eager eyes.

"Mr. Jeon offered a merger." Oh.

"What? Why would he want a merger? How would it benefit his agency?" Now you're even more confused.

"He claims that the merger would be of major success. He wants to bring back the 'diversity in people and lingerie' by advertising models of all different races, sizes, and beauty, from his agency, wearing all different designs of lingerie from HG. He mentioned it would benefit both ends and would indulge the concept of diversity even more nowadays, as he says that our society is in dire need of such a message." You bite back a smile. Way to go Mr. Jeon. That's clever as hell.

"While your dad was all up for the idea, saying it would sweep HG back to its feet and give it a greater push than ever, there was a catch." She hesitates. "They just keep on coming, huh?" You scoff.

Your mother waves you off, "Your dad is getting old Y/N. He's forgetting things, he lacks his previous abilities, and he's slacking in this field of work. After 50 years of working his ass off, as much as he hates to admit it, he knows he needs to quit and pass everything on to you."

Your eyes bulge for the 100th time, "Me? Why me? What about Mingyu?"

"Oh, honey, Mingyu is still young. He's only twenty-two and he still doesn't understand the meaning of responsibility. He's still got a long way to go, but you're already mature enough to handle things on your own." Her eyes soften, glistening as her own words seem to get her emotional.

"Oh, Mom...c'mere." You pull your mom in for a hug while both of you are sitting on the bed and rub her back gently.

She pulls away with a deep breath and continues. "For the merger to happen, we need a reason for it, and that reason is your marriage to Jungkook. Does it all click, now?" She waits for you expectedly.

"Yes, but I still need time to process everything. I can't digest the fact that i have to marry Mr. Jeon out of all people-" You realize your slip up a bit too late.

"Why? What's so horrible about Mr. Jeon?", she squints her eyes suspiciously at you. "He seems like a wonderful person. Quite humble for a person in his rank." She nods approvingly at the statement.

Oh, Mom, how I wish you knew. Your mom never knew about Jungkook bullying you in high school, so she suspects nothing. Innocent, oblivious soul. Jungkook is the cockiest bastard alive. Too much of an asshole for his own good.

You laugh awkwardly, "He...um...yeah, he's not that bad. What I meant was I couldn't possibly marry a stranger, you know?" Will she take the bait? "Oh! Well, that's why you have about six months to get to know him better!" She beams. Thank god.

“But, Mom…There’s still one thing that I don’t understand.” Your eyebrows knot in thought. Your mother nods in silent demand for you to go on. “Is Mr. Jeon okay with marrying me?” Your mother smiles. “Why don’t you ask him that yourself?”

"Put something revealing on. Mr. Jeon is coming for dinner in about...thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes?!

"What?! Why didn't you tell me before?! No way in hell I'm getting ready that fast. You all go ahead and enjoy dinner." You purse your lips sassily as you turn around in your bed and cover your head with the sheets.

"Y/L/N Y/N, if you don't get up in 3..." You're a twenty-six-year-old woman, why is she treating you like a child? "2..." The warning tone alarms you, so you straighten quickly enough it would've given you whiplash. You knew your Mom well enough not to disobey her. She was a goddamn psychopath. "I'm up!" You spring out of your bed and into the bathroom, hearing the faint sound of your Mom chuckling as she exits the room. She leaves you be, and that's when you realize...Jungkook is coming here in thirty minutes.

Ding Dong!

The chime of the bell has butterflies raging in your stomach. He’s here.

You finish touching up your makeup and fix your dress into place, then head for the stairs. You were never one to dress to impress, but you just couldn’t pass out on an opportunity to show Jungkook that the fragile and frail bumblebee he used to bully in high school is long gone. There stands a queen bee in its stead.

Your outfit consists of a plain pastel green dress that was simple, yet elegant. It makes your eyes pop and magnificently highlights your facial features. It accentuates your curves in such a way that would’ve had sixteen-year-old-you blushing. It makes you feel powerful- at least, powerful enough to face the man downstairs.

Your heels announce your arrival as you descend the stairs, making your way down to the dining room. Jungkook comes into view as you descend the last two steps, and when you reach the end of the staircase, you’re planted directly in front of him.

Freshly shaven, suit-clad Jungkook meets your eyes as he seems to marvel at your beauty. He looks star-struck, in a way. Like your magnificence might stab at his heart if he looked at you longer than intended.

He’s wearing his signature all-black suit and chunky boots, which add a sprinkle of Jungkook’s personality to make it look like his. His hair isn’t in the usual messy ruffle it’s always in, but this time, he slicked it back to expose his forehead.

“Hey.” Your voice surprises you with its breathiness.

Get a grip, Y/N! Shut up.

“Yeah, um, hi.” Jungkook stutters. Is he flustered? You really can’t tell.

“You clean up pretty nice, Mr. Jeon.” You bite back a smile. He really does.

“I know.” You roll your eyes. He’s such an ass.

“I was literally trying to be nice for once.” You scowl. “I take it back, you’re, like, the biggest eyesore I’ve set my eyes on in a long while.” You smirk in achievement as a silver of Jungkook’s irritation shines through his poor attempt of a poker face.

Just as you notice Jungkook open his mouth to respond, your Mom’s voice cuts through the silence. “Come on, lovebirds! There’s enough time for chit-chat after we eat dinner!"

"Shall we?" Jungkook offers his hand in invitation, so you lock it with yours as you head toward the dining room. As you go to take a seat beside your brother, he surprises you by saying; "Y/N, I believe it is only eligible for you to dine beside your future husband." Oh, how much you'd love to smack that grin off his stupid face. "Right." You say awkwardly.

As you round the table to sit beside Jungkook, he hurries out of his seat to pull the chair out for you to settle in. You slowly and thankfully thank him as you take a seat. In conclusion, the whole thing feels super awkward.

You were now sitting opposite your brother, with Jungkook beside you and your Mom facing him. Your dad sits at the head of the table.

Jungkook is the first to shatter the deafening silence, “I’d like to start this gracious evening by thanking Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N for taking the time to invite me to this dinner.” He smiles politely.

Something you’ve noticed recently is that Jungkook acts like a robot when he’s around your parents. His movements are automatic, and his eyes lack the usual mischievous glint they possess whenever you’re with him. It’s weird, almost like he’s trying his best to not mess up, or maybe it’s because he actually wants to be a part of this family.

Jungkook was raised by his dad after he accidentally got a model knocked up. The model- now Jungkook’s Mom- was working at his dad’s agency at the time, and had slept with him for money. This, of course, is heartbreaking to hear, as he seems to treat your Mom like his own; always bowing down to her purely out of respect, speaking to her extra formally, seeming as though he thinks he’ll mess up if he didn’t. The thought alone makes you tear up.

“Of course, darling, it’s always a pleasure. You can count on us, we’ll always be here for you- whether you like it or not, young man, you’re stuck with us!” Your mother’s words have you all chuckling as the dinner resumes.

Your Mom’s care towards Jungkook is eminent as she places extra food on his plate, shushing him when he complains about being full, and urging him to eat more. You feel pity toward the man as your mom can be quite a stubborn woman, so you stand up and look at Jungkook, “Mr. Jeon-“ Jungkook interrupts you. “Please, just call me Jungkook.” “Okay, Jungkook, will you come fetch the salt with me from the kitchen?” You wait expectedly.

Jungkook looks confused but agrees nonetheless. As he gets up and you both make your exit from the dining room, your brother takes the salt shaker off of the table and hides it in the chair next to him when your parents' eyes are on you, so no one notices. “But we have the salt right-“ Your Mother goes to reach for the salt, only for her eyes to fall on an empty space on the table. “Here. Oh, I thought I put it right there. I guess I forgot.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. They’ll take care of it.” Mingyu smiles to himself.

“I thought you wanted to get the salt?” Jungkook looks at you with big doe eyes and a pouty mouth as you make your way to the porch located outside the kitchen.

“I just saved your ass, I deserve a ‘thank you’.” You snicker. The chilly breeze of the summer night cools you down. You can finally breathe.

“Well, thank you.” Jungkook says as he comes up beside you. You hum in return. “Now that we’re alone, I think we should use the time to properly talk. You know…the merger, the marriage, you moving in…” What? No way in hell. Not happening.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. No. I’m not doing this.” You turn around to leave, but Jungkook’s hand stops you. Just like two nights ago, his hand circles around your waist and pulls you to him. The position has your black flush against his chest as you face the door. “Stop fucking running away from me every time.” His head dips into the crook of your neck as his husky voice reaches your ears. He breathes in your scent, his nose nudging against your skin. You should push him away, but he feels like heaven. You close your eyes in appreciation for the contrast of sensations you’re experiencing right now; the cold air kisses your cheeks, but Jungkook’s body warmth has you feeling hot. Your head swirls in the moment, unable to think correctly. You’re incapable of anything at this point.

“What makes you think you’re in a position to order me around?” You say in an implicit challenge. You’re provoking him, you know that. You simply want to push his buttons and see where his limits lie, only because you always knew how much of a sucker Jungkook was for a good challenge. His hand rests on your waist as the other snakes up your body, finally resting on your neck. You take a deep breath when you feel him do so. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I just want to talk.” He says lowly. You hum out a response, and as soon as you do so, his hand tightens, barely cutting off your air supply. He loosens his hold on your neck after a couple of seconds, his voice sounding behind you as it sends chills down your spine. “Use your words, Y/N.” You can practically hear the challenge in his tone just as you could’ve done in yours. You take a deep breath before uttering a quiet “Okay.” In contrast to your thundering heartbeat. Your feelings are raging, and there’s a wet pool of arousal between your legs in dire need to be taken care of. If Jungkook could turn you on this much without having to be inside you, he was a massive step up from all the other men you’ve been with.

Jungkook steps away from you slowly but surely, and you turn around just in time to see him smirk in triumph. You scoff in return.

This is about to be a long conversation.

next

[thegoatsongs]

Sometimes I will watch a book adaptation as a movie/show and think about how the original text has so much that could benefit a visual medium, but that potential gets completely wasted.

For example, there are plenty of Dracula adaptations where Dracula throws away Jonathan's mirror. This is a good opportunity to show without telling about how many weeks have passed after that until Jonathan attempts his escape. Show him in a stubble that eventually grows into a beard. Make his hair messy, how he wears the same change of clothes for weeks and weeks, it's wrinkled. In general, most adaptations give me the impression that he's been there for a week, max. He was imprisoned for months.

When Dracula steals his clothes on May 31st we get the first large gap between entries, which is almost 18 days, which indicates a variety of things, including depression and despair. Since this can't be communicated through blank pages on screen, there's plenty of opportunity to show it otherwise. He has no mirror, but he has his razor. Show him reach for it, before stopping himself. Is it because he wants to attack his captor, or something else?

There are no mirrors in the castle, and he can't check his own neck if he's been bitten, maybe show him try to find a reflective surface in vain after one of his strange dreams (and they are another great visual opportunity to show his subconscious vs reality). If you go with that route, dial up the horror by getting us to finally see marks on his neck, which he cannot know are there.

There's more, like actually showing Jonathan's "brain fever" disturbing his and Mina's nights and being lost in "the hue of unreality" he tells Van Helsing about. Maybe give him a walking aid. Showing Jonathan clean-shaven since his wedding to show it's an important ritual to him and being on the way to healing. Then he starts growing facial hair again after Mina's attack.

No one ever shows Dracula's forehead scar, which is more than just an identifier of who he is despite his becoming younger. From a storytelling standpoint, it's proof that he is not indestructible, without needing too many words about that. From a symbolic standpoint, it parallels him with the only person Dracula has a psychic bond with, Mina, who also gets a scar on her forehead. Or how he in the end was marked to die by the person who scarred him.

And that's without going with the other characters, who I have thoughts about for each too.

Not to mention so many other books that rely heavily on symbolism. On-screen one can do so much more with Hyde's (as well as Jekyll's) appearance than making him a big monster or an uglier Jekyll, for example. Depending on the route they want to go with. But anyway that's for another time, I'm just having thoughts on directors showing they have a deeper understanding of the text than just "tick the plot boxes".

[pascallatte]

Angel?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: GQ Germany with PEDRO PASCAL aka him fawning over Y/n over a single this or that.

Date: September 2020

Warnings: none

A/N: I love love love this interview, his voice, his hair, the vibes, HIS SMILE!!! Everything, alsoooooooo probably the last one for 2020 for now next one may be a throwback or we’ll move on to ’21 (most probably). SO everyone, happy reading and tell me what you think!! Love lots x

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal I’m here at GQ Germany Cover shoot.” Pedro’s seen sitting in a chair in the set of GQ Germany for this month’s issue. The team decided to get him in to join a quick get-to-know-him-better game, an upgraded version of This or That.

Swimming trunks vs beach shorts

Sucking in a breath when the staff shows him two pictures, ”I would have to go with shorts, because of what I could pull off at my age. Despite the continuous disagreement from someone.”  He smiles.

Sweater vs hoodie

“Hmm I love a sweater though but I really love a hoodie.” Biting his lip, Pedro asks.

“Can any of these be ties?… Really?!” 

“Oh, it has to be absolute. Hmm, this is something me and my girlfriend often debate on, ‘cause she steals most of my tops which makes me buy more but then when I do buy hoodies she tells me to buy sweaters. But since this is my interview hmm…Well alright, hoodie it is. Either way, we take turns using it.” With a very satisfied tone, he explains his side looking at a camera with a small fond smile.

Oberyn Martell vs Din Djarin

Shocked by what he’s been shown, Pedro can only laugh as he responds, “Wow, that is a really hard decision to make.”

“Umm, the armour didn’t work so well for me at the end of Game of Thrones, but it looked amazing,” taking in a breath as the gears in his head takes in the pros and cons of each suit and character.

“That being said the armour in The Mandalorian looks very very good and I'm still alive. So I guess I would have to- you know I can’t I just can’t I cannot betray Oberyn and choose The Mandalorian. But umm let’s just leave it at that being an impossible decision.”

Smart vs traditional watch

“Traditional watch, people who use smart watches are people who can’t tell or read the time. And by people I mean…” Pedro turns to look at the camera and gives it or soon the viewers a knowing look, in hopes that they know what he meant by that.

Fedora vs baseball cap

“Those are my hats!…Oh wow”

“Well clearly since you have a picture of a fedora that belongs to me and a baseball hat that belongs to me… I favour both” he elaborates while raising his hands in a somewhat joking accusatory way to the staff who has asked him to pick one between his favourites. To him, it’s like asking him to pick between things or people he adores.

“I cannot and you cannot make me decide between a fedora and a baseball cap. I love them both equally”

Facial hair or clean shaven

“What? Are you making me choose between clean-shaven or facial hair?” 

“They’re currently showing me two pictures of myself.” He stops for a moment, making his sort of thinking face as he thinks back to 10 or so years ago.

“One that is maybe… 10 years ago, where clean-shaven may have worked.

"Umm, I'm gonna have to go with the very strange patchy facial hair that I am capable of growing on my face.”

Contacts vs glasses

Answering immediately, “Glasses.. what a ridiculous question.” He shakes his head as if telling them the obvious as well as the light tone of his voice.

“Glasses, sticking my own fingers into my eyes? I have yet to cross that threshold.”He continues to shake his head as he explains why he’d chosen it.

Y/n’s sheer 2018 met gala dress or her 2019 white oscars dress

Pedro’s entire face lit up as soon as the staff showed him the choices. “Ohh bot- this is a hard one…I love both of them, and it looks incredible on her,” he emphasizes, adorably staring at the pictures.

Sitting still while continuing to admire his love, “Ahhh would you look at that..."

"She’s beautiful don’t you agree?” Pedro straight away smiles as soon as the staff behind the camera agrees with him.

“The first one makes her look like this mermaid or angel- you know like a fallen angel, just for me, and the other is very- something she would dress herself in with how simple yet elegant it looks. So I would have to go with her Oscars look.”

A voice off cam tells him something that had caught his attention, making his expression turn into shock and amusement, “It’s a wedding dress?! Really?! She wore a wedding dress to the Oscars… hmm” slowly ruffling his hair he sits back after getting a closer look at the picture.

Leather or bomber jacket

“Wow, leather jacket. I have and I think I always will love a leather jacket.” Explaining this with a small smirk that had him explaining his thoughts right after.

“Y/n has bought us a matching pair of these incredible vintage leather jackets and-so basically it’s something that I will never ever lose my interest in.”

Coffee or tea

Nodding his head, he looks straight to the camera, “Coffee. Coffee all the way.” 

Raising his hands up similar to a surrendering position to defend himself, he chuckles before continuing, “It’s not that I don’t like tea but then again coffee is what keeps me up and going other than y/n… who is by the way is also a coffee addict.”

Clasping his hands together, he finalizes, “Coffee, 100%”

"Thank you for watching and click here to subscribe to GQ Germany!"

the dress for reference:

A/n: so I wrongly timed the post of this one, instead of it being posted yesterday at noon it was set to 12 am today haha, never gonna do that again. Anyways if you're reading this thank you and have a nice day ahead of you!!!

Taglist: @benonlinear @t-stark35 @heyitsme-2 @elleeeee21 @holmesstrange @tagakalat @flyestvenustrap @oldermenaremyreligion @cherryred444 @hobiismyhopeu @ilovehotdadsandshit @djarinsstuff @guacala @avengersheart @pukka-latte @lilvampirina @mmkkzz

[leossmoonn]

five nights with mike | mike schmdit

summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s

warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut in p2 - piv, fingering, brief handjob

part two is linked at the bottom!

————

this part isn’t 18+ but second is. they can be read as seperate parts kind of, but i did put effort into both so if you’re 18+ do what you will with that info

“you’re early,” you say as you walk into the office. mike is watching the cameras while eating a granola bar. “yeah, abby went to bed early and i had nothing better to do,” he says.

“yeah, i feel you. cornelius went to bed early, too.”

mike turns to you, raising a brow. “cornelius is a cat. he sleeps whenever he wants and doesn’t need you to tuck him in.”

you grin and shrug, “sometimes he does. he’s very fussy if he doesn’t get warm milk and a little playtime before bed.”

“i think you spoil that cat too much,” mike states. “he’s my baby. i need to spoil him,” you insist.

mike’s lips upturn and he looks back at the cameras. you sit down next to him, your eyes flickering from the cameras to him. even with his eye bags more purple and deep than the other night, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. his facial hair is darker, like he’s been growing it out more. his jawline is sharp and you’ve found yourself staring at it the more you two work together. his hair is messy as if he just got out of bed before getting here. his lips are slightly parted as he watches the cameras. you can’t help but wonder how they would feel on your skin.

mike sees you staring at him in his peripheral. he wishes he could control the way he blushes. he hopes you don’t notice with the blue light on the screen covering his face. he knows you’ll stop eventually, but he doesn’t mind. he doesn’t get much attention anywhere else in his life. he just hopes you stop so then he can admire you in a not-so-nonchalant manner.

you two have worked together before you got the job at freddy’s. it was a while back, before mike’s security job at the mall. you two got along, but you didn’t really become friends until you realized you were going to be staying up all night with each other babysitting creepy fur suits.

“do you want to sleep first tonight?” you offer. you know how tired mike always is. he barely sleeps, but when he does, you know it’s not good.

“i think i’ll stay up,” mike says, wanting to spend as much time with you conscious. “oh, really? did you have a good nap during the day?” you inquire.

“no,” he chuckles. “i still have the same shitty sleep pattern, but i know how creepy this place can feel, so i figured i’d keep you company while you’re awake. and if you fall asleep, then that’s fine. i’ll be up.”

his concern for you makes you embarrassingly sick with joy.

“i can take care of myself. it’s not like those things will come alive,” you snort.

mike chuckles and nods. “i hope not.” “well, we’ll just see how the night goes. we can let each other know if we feel tired and go from there,” you say.

“sure,” he says. he watches as you pull out a book from your purse. he turns his head slowly towards your direction so he can get a better look at you. even with little sleep, you look beautiful. he knows you don’t sleep much, either. you have a day job as well, leaving a five hour gap for you to recharge. he doesn’t know how you do it, but he find it admirable.

even to this job, you wear day clothes. little does he know, you do it to impress him. it’s not like you go all out. you pick clothes that are comfortable enough to fall asleep in, but make you look like you put some effort in. mike has a feeling you do it for some external reason, and he’s hoping it’s him. ever since he knew he was going to work with you, he’s started to shower right before he comes here. he brings food for you two to share in case you both get hungry. he saves most of it for you since he knows you barely have time to eat at home.

“is that a new one?” he asks. “hmm?” you look up, seeing his eyes flicker from your face to the book. “oh, yeah,” you nod. “it’s a new dystopian novel.”

“ah, i see. that’s cool. what’s the series called?”

“ “the hunger games”.”

“oh, yeah, i’ve heard of that. i used to like those types of novels: dystopian and fantasy.”

“have you ever read “harry potter”?”

“i read the first four. i’ve watched all the movies, though. they’re coming out with the last one soon, i think.”

“ah, right. which did you think were better?”

“the books, definitely.”

“ah, a man of culture,” you tease. he shrugs with a small smile. “my mom really liked reading, so she got me into it. i haven’t read for a while, though. books are so expensive.”

“they are,” you agree. “i can lend you some. i have a whole collection. although half of them are more young adult, but they’re still good. my real adult book collection is growing, though.”

“you don’t have to,” he says. “i wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.

“that’d be nice,” he nods. “great. i’ll text you some books i have when i go home,” you say, looking back down at your book. you can’t focus though with thoughts of texting mike later. it was just about books, but talking to him outside of work made you giddy.

the rest of the night went pretty smoothly. you did end up falling asleep after eating some snacks mike brought. mike let you take the desk chair that was cushioned and you laid your head on the desk, wrapped up in his jacket that he also let you borrow. when you got home and stripped to take a shower, you realized how much you and your clothes smelled like him. you almost didn’t want to wash your clothes, but you knew you would see him again soon.

the next night, mike surprises you by bringing abby.

“she just didn’t want to stay at the house,” mike sighs. “it’s alright. it’s good to have some extra company,” you say.

you’ve never officially met abby. you’ve seen her at the mall you and mike worked at. mike and you worked at the food court at that time before he left to work security. he would bring her sometimes to play in the children’s area on the weekends that was right in front of the restaurant you worked at. she always would wave to you and mike sometimes, but you never got a chance to introduce yourself until now.

it seems like abby remembers you from the mall. she acts like she’s met you before, immediately pulling you into one conversation after another. it’s cute.

“this fort is so cool,” you say. “i know, right? mike says it’s stupid, but he’s just jealous cause he sucks at making forts,” abby grins.

mike rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance. you stifle a laugh as you witness their sibling dynamic.

“maybe one of these nights we can build a fort,” you suggest. mike shakes his head. “no thanks.”

“aw, come in! it might be fun. it would give us something to do,” you grin.

mike can’t resist your smile. it literally brightens up the room and he finds it hard not to smile with you. he tries to downplay his feelings and sighs, looking down at his shoes to try and hide his expression.

“we’ll see.”

“i can teach you guys how to build a fort,” abby says. “that would be awesome!” you exclaim.

abby ends up inviting you into her fort to color. mike tries to join to get closer to you, but abby denies him entry.

“only cool people get to be in here.”

“seriously? i’m cool,” mike says. you and abby glance at each other, coy smiles on both of your faces. “you’re not cool enough,” you state.

his eyes wide as he looks at you. “if i knew abby would make you have a vendetta against me, i wouldn’t have brought her.”

“i’m sure she would’ve found a not like you,” abby states.

he plays the butt-hurt role, but honestly, he loves seeing you and abby interact. you’re the closest thing abby has ever had to a friend. the fact that you welcomed her with open arms makes him unexplainably happy. although he likes to complain about taking care of his sister, he would be lying if he said she wasn’t his whole world. he’s never trusted her with anybody else except for the babysitter, which is kind of has to, but he knows that if there was anybody he would trust with abby, it would be you without a doubt.

eventually, abby falls and asleep and it’s just you and mike. you both are sitting side-by-side on the floor, propped up against a cabinet. before abby dozed off, she decided to be kind and let mike hang out in the fort. you both remind each other to keep an eye on the cameras, but you both start to feel sleepy.

“i hate this job,” you yawn. your whole being is tired. you’ve never had a night job before, especially with having a day job. it’s starting to catch up with you.

“it’s not so bad,” mike says, looking at you. you give him a lazy smile, not being able to keep your eyes closed. you’re too tired to notice you’ve started to lean on mike. your head rests on his chest, your arms curled up, trying to reserve some heat. mike’s body tenses as he looks down at you. you look so peaceful. your body rises slowly as you fall asleep. your lips are slightly parted. you snuggle into him, your fingers fisting his shirt. his heart warms at the sight. he grabs a blanket that abby isn’t using, draping it over the two of you. for the first time in a while, he feels genuinely tired. he falls asleep to the soft breaths you elicit, wrapping an arm around your waist.

you wake up to the sound of crying. you jolt awake, your eyes struggling to stay open. you look at your surroundings, remembering you’re in the office. you sit yourself up, realizing you’ve been sleeping on mike. you swallow hard, starting to feel hot all over. you feel a small weight on your body as you move. you look under the blanket and see mike’s arm around you, holding you close. your heart races at the fact you had been cuddling with him.

you then hear some talking. you look at the fort, realizing abby isn’t in it anymore.

“fuck. shit,” you murmur. you turn to mike, shaking him awake. “mike, mike. wake up.”

he furrows his brows. “mm, let me sleep.”

“abby’s gone, mike.”

his eyes shoot open and he gets up immediately, searching the office for her. “where’d she go?”

“i-i don’t know. we both fell asleep. i should’ve stayed up. i’m sorry, mike.”

“no, it’s… it’s not your job to take care of her. it’s mine.”

you both rush out of the office, finding abby in the dining area.

“abby! are you okay?” mike runs to her, dropping on his knees to inspect her.

“yeah, i closed the door on my hand when i used the bathroom,” she says. “my friend gave me a band aid.” she holds up her hand.

“let’s get you another one. you shouldn’t put bandaids on that you find on the floor,” mike says.

“my friend gave it to me!” she insists. “well, your friend is very kind,” you say. mike glances at you and you shrug. you figure you should play her little game if you’re going to try and get her out of here.

“yeah! mike doesn’t like my friends.”

“well, he’s probably jealous cause you have so many.”

abby looks up at you with a wide smile. you can see some of her missing teeth.

“it’s time to go, abby,” mike says. he grabs her hand but she twists away. “i want to stay and play with my friends!”

“no, abby. we are done here.”

“i’m pretty hungry,” you rush out. “who’s up for some denny’s?”

“me!” abby exclaims. mike frowns at you. “you don’t have to.”

“i want to get out of here, too,” you whisper. he sighs and nods. “abby, help me clean up the office then we can get some food, okay?”

“okay,” she sighs, walking back to clean up her fort and putting a new bandaid on her finger.

mike follows you to denny’s, parking beside you.

“i’ll pay for abby and i, by the way,” mike says as you enter the restaurant. you shake your head. “nonsense. it was my idea, so my treat.”

“please, no. abby’s going to order and she’s going to only eat one bite. it’s a waste of your money.”

“and it would be more of a waste if you paid. let me do this. next time you can pay for my meal.”

mike’s heart skips a beat as he thinks about next time. he hopes next time would not be at a denny’s after he just got done sleeping on the floor of an abandoned arcade.

“yeah, definitely,” he nods. “i’ll hold you to that,” you smile. “please do,” he says.

after breakfast, which abby actually ate most of, mike walks you back to your car.

“thank you again,” mike says. “don’t mention it,” you smile.

he can’t help but stare and admire you. the sun is out today, making your eyes look brighter. your lips still have some lipstick tainted on them from last night. you look tired, like everyone does when they work a graveyard shift, but your energy is high.

“i’ll see you tonight?” mike asks. “definitely. bye, abby. it was nice to meet you,” you smile down at her.

“you, too!“ she grins. you step into your car and mike unlocks his. he waits until you pull out, putting his car in reverse and backing out.

“can she come over?” abby asks. mike can’t lie, he likes that idea, but there’s no reason for you to come over to his house. even if it was to hang out with abby, which he’s sure you would say yes to in a heartbeat, but you’re so busy and the only time off you get is time to yourself. he’d hate to disrupt that.

“she’s too busy,” mike sighs. abby frowns in his rear view mirror. “okay. i like her. she’s nice and pretty.”

mike smiles a little bit. “yeah, she is.”

————

part two

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