#they go over and under the laundry at the same time apparently

[infectiouspiss]

parents love to pick one specific thing and tell you you're always doing it wrong no matter what

[written-in-flowers]

More Than Enough: OT8 X fem!Reader

Pairing: OT8 x Fem!reader

Genre: smut...just loads of smut...hints of fluff sprinkled inside

Word Count: 14k

AU: sugar baby/sugar daddies, contracted dating, polyamorous.

Rating: Explicit, very

Summary: A good movie night turns into something steamier when the members discover you haven't done your laundry yet.

Tags: poly relationship, breast play, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of it too, gangbang, bukkake (sort of), fondling over clothes and under clothes, group sex, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys for men and women, blowjobs, handjobs, rough blowjobs/deep throating, slight edging, hella overstimulation, occasional degradation, multiple orgasms, somewhat bisezual sex, ateez!doms, sub!reader, mixed gentle and hard doms, breeding kink, protected sex until the very end so wrap it up because apparently I need to write that idk why it should be obvious but whatever, and lots of aftercare.

Next on Idol Companion

***

You pressed the ‘popcorn’ button on the microwave and hoped it didn’t burn. The popcorn coming out burnt would ruin everything. You spent all day fixing everything to work out: you bought more snacks and drinks, added movies to the watch list, and brought out blankets and pillows for everyone to sit on. The boys told you not to go through so much trouble for a simple movie night, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s hard to get everyone home at the same time. Nights are typically the easiest, so you managed to make it work out. 

Waiting on popcorn, you turned to the refrigerator beside you. The members often posted small notes or reminders on the doors so everyone saw them. A few were written by you, but Seonghwa wrote most of them. On the side of the fridge, they’d pinned two calendars. One calendar showed the basic monthly flower and had the members’ overall scheduled days on it. Personal appointments, Wanteez shoots, photoshoots, live streams, and so on took up small boxes throughout the month. The one right underneath it happened to be an Ateez calendar, each month with a different group photo. You’d written down your own appointments or reminders for upcoming events there. You smiled softly when you spotted a post-it note plastered beside it. 

‘Reminder: PLEASE GO TO YOUR AGENCY APPOINTMENTS!!! Love you so much, -Seonghwa.’ he’d drawn a small heart next to his name, which made you smile. 

Someone posted another note right next to that one. 

‘No, seriously. Please go. They’ll think we’re keeping you hostage. Love you lots -Jongho.’ Jongho had drawn two hearts, which also made you smile. 

You giggled softly to yourself.  They were both right, of course. You’d been missing appointments with the agency because you’d grown to hate them. Every agency meeting included mental and physical examinations. You’d sit down with a therapist to discuss how your relationship with the members is going, if you have any frustrations or complaints you’d like to share, and your overall mental health. Then, you’d leave the therapist for the doctor, who runs a full body check-up on you, sometimes including blood work which you hated because you dislike needles. Your company agent, Sungmi, tells you it is to make sure your body is working to its best ability. 

Also, to make sure you’re free of pregnancies, diseases, or bodily traumas from sex. 

You shuddered imagining what ‘bodily trauma’ might mean, but you’d heard stories. Your tests always came back clean, so why did you need to go? If you had an issue with the boys, you simply sat them down and told them. They listened to you; they discussed and solved issues with you instead of pushing you onto their manager. Other women in your industry told you they hardly talked to their ‘boyfriends’. Kira, another Companion, said she mainly worked with her group’s manager. You understood those situations called for agency meetings, but you didn’t see the need for yourself. Seeing Seonghwa’s note, you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you went. You might as well schedule it before Sungmi did. 

The microwave alarm went off, and you withdrew the piping hot bag. You dumped it into the bowl, and sprayed a bit of butter. Mingi liked lots of butter on his, so you made a separate bowl for him. You knew he’d appreciate the consideration, but it was your job to know these things. As an ‘Idol Companion’, you are supposed to know things your partners like and do them to make them feel better. People who read about your situation online tend to think you’re simply a sex doll for kpop idols, and think they’re able to do it. You often shut down ignorance by telling people what you went through with your training. ‘Training’? Yes, ‘training’. 

Because, sex and looks aren't the only part of the position. You told these people they needed to be ✨ interesting ✨. Learning the art of conversation and entertainment are two key ingredients. There are also lessons in psychology, literature, dance, music, art, and history. You said a proper Companion knew how to appeal to all kinds of people, not a singular type. A Companion needed to be charming, charismatic, and intelligent. If a man or woman wanted an idol to like them, they needed to be more than a pretty face. Nowadays, Companions don’t date an entire group like you do, since they find more stability with soloists or dating non-exclusively. People who do date groups usually have a second or third partner to share “the load” with, but that really depends on the company’s budget. Ateez had no such budget when they began, so when KQ approached your agency, they could only select one. Not that you minded. You’d gained enough experience by then to handle all eight idols. Still, it is no easy task, especially with your chaotic boys. You have seen many outsiders try and fail to go through the process because they thought it was all about ‘dating hot Korean idols’. You won’t lie; it is certainly a perk, but there’s more underneath the surface, you’d tell them.

‘You’re not a prostitute. You’re a companion, a friend, a partner.’ 

Mama Kim’s words rang in your head as you finished Mingi’s bowl, and pulled out a bag of chips. You’d gone out and bought the spicy ones Jonhgo liked, since he’d mentioned craving them yesterday. Little things. It was all about the ‘little things’. 

“There you are, beautiful.” His shuffling feet alerted you to his presence and you looked over your shoulder to see Yunho walking into the kitchen. Very tall and broad shouldered, he ran his hand through his black hair and kissed your cheek. He looked over your face and hair, seeing the new style and length. “Gorgeous,” was all he said before pecking your lips. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he said, pecking your lips next and then grabbing a large bowl from the top shelf. “I thought you’d be home around lunch.” 

“I ran some errands after my appointment,” you explained, trying to open the bag, “And then I went out to lunch with some friends before going to see my parents. I told them I’d stop by sometime this week, so I took my free day to go.”

“How are they?” he asked, leaning on the island counter. “Is your mom feeling better?”

“Much better,” you answered, struggling to open the chip bag. Your parents both moved closer to you when they retired, so that way you’re not so far from them. “She keeps asking when I’m going to bring all of you over again. I told her we’ve all been too busy, but I can only say that for so long.”

Yunho opened the bag for you with ease, filled the bowl, and looked at the calendar. “We have time off towards the end of the month,” he said. “We can work out a day then. I’d love to see your parents again.” 

“We’re seeing YN’s parents?” Wooyoung walked into the room, white shirt hanging from his shoulders and black hair damp from a shower. “When?” He gave you a brief kiss then wrapped his arms around you. “I have to get your mom flowers.” He checked out your new hairstyle, and smiled, “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

“Thanks, and we’ll see them soon,” you said. “I was telling Yunho that she’s feeling better and wants us to visit.”

It took your parents a while to get used to your job; they thought it might be a bit much handling eight men. But, when they saw how happy the boys made you, they stopped questioning you. Honestly, they saw this polyamorous situation of eight boyfriends as a higher likelihood of marriage and pregnancy. Marriage meant financial security, stability, and someone would be looking after you when they’re gone. Pregnancy for them meant grandchildren they could dote over, spoil and brag about to their friends. You told them that you didn’t need a man or children to enjoy life or be happy, to which they said:

“Says the girl who has eight boyfriends.”

“We’ll be having some days off soon,” he said. “We can think of something then.” 

Yunho left the kitchen with the chip bowls, leaving you and Wooyoung alone. The youngest moved to grab a popcorn bowl when he hesitated. Your cheeks burned when you realized that he’d felt it. You’d sort of hoped they didn’t notice. With everything you did today, laundry ended up on the bottom of the list. But, they’re your boyfriends and are also men, so you shouldn’t be so surprised. 

And, yes, maybe you did hope one or two might notice. 

“No panties?” Wooyoung grinned widely, pulling your body closer to his. “Naughty.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you excused. “Someone used up all the detergent and didn’t buy more, and I forgot to buy some when I went out today.” 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he smiled, unconvinced. “You just so happen to be wearing no panties,” he pressed you to the counter, “On a night when all eight of us are here?”

“It is a coincidence, I promise,” you replied, not protesting when his hands gripped your hips. 

“Oh, sure, yeah, I believe you,” he planted more kisses on your lips. “Hm, perhaps we should go see your parents in a month or so. By then, we’ll have some good news to share-”

“-Wooyoung!” 

He sealed over your shared laughter with another kiss before someone else walked into the kitchen. “Who are we sharing good news with?” Yeosang arrived next, wearing a hoodie over his shirt and lounge pants. 

“YN’s parents want us to come over,” Wooyoung answered, releasing you and going to the fridge nearby to grab drinks for everyone. 

“Ah, fun,” Yeosang grinned. “You know I don’t mind going.” Yeosang brought you into his arms next, giving you the gentlest of kisses, before he also paused. Yet, instead of saying anything, he questioned you with a look and then smirked when you bashfully turned away. “Love what you did to your hair,” he said instead, “And cool, I like hanging out with your dad.”

“Yeah, your dad’s a cool guy,” Wooyoung agreed. You smiled at their compliments, “Any idea what movie you want to watch, babe?” 

“None at all,” you answered, watching Yeosang leave you to grab cups from the shelf. “I saved a whole bunch of movies earlier today, but I’ll let you guys pick. As long as it’s not another superhero movie; I’m getting so tired of those.”

“I’ll personally make sure it’s not," smiled Yeosang.

You followed the pair out of the kitchen into the living room. It's not by any means large, so the long sectional sofa took up the wall in front of the television. Seonghwa, Mingi, San and Hongjoong already occupied spaces in the room: Mingi took up the long chaise section of the sofa, with Yunho taking over the massage chair at the end. Seonghwa sat in the middle seat with Yeosang; San sat in the far right corner, with Wooyoung sitting beside Mingi and Hongjoong on the comfy armchair opposite the massage chair. You noticed one person still missing. 

“Where’s Jongho?” you asked them, noticing the youngest one’s absence. 

“Gaming,” answered San, bundling up underneath covers to avoid the chill in the room. 

Leaving the living room, you went down the hall to the larger bedroom. Beside a bed up against the wall, Jongho sat at his computer with headphones on and absorbed in his game. You stood there a few seconds to see if he noticed you, but when he didn’t, you walked up to him and gingerly lifted his headphones from his ears. Jongho let out a cry of protest, but quieted when he saw you.

“Movie night,” you answered his questioning gaze. “Come watch it with us.”

“Hm,” he leaned back in the chair, pondering thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I’m kinda deep in my game here. I’m not sure I could go right now,” he gave you a sly smirk. You’d have to convince him. 

“The game can wait,” you took his hand in yours and pouted, “I haven’t seen any of you all day. Come into the living room and sit with us. I got those spicy chips you like.” 

His hand was so close to your body, he broke away to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you into his lap. Giggling from the sudden pull, he blindsided you with a kiss that started light and quickly became tender. It was then that Jongho noticed it:

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he said in your ear, lust making him exhale deeply. “I can feel it through your shorts.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you said. “It’s no big deal.” 

“I feel bad for anyone sitting with you,” He gripped your thigh tenderly and said, “They’re going to have a hard time keeping their hands off you…especially when you’re not wearing a bra either.”

“But that’s not that new,” you replied, pushing hair from his face. “I rarely wear bras in the dorm. You’re all pretty immune to that.”

“Eh, not as immune as you think,” he disagreed. “I know there have been days where I avoided Braless YN so I don’t get inconvenient boners. Now, add no panties to that equation, and…you know what? I think I’m good here.” 

“Oh hush,” you giggled, moving to slide off him, “You’re coming with me, Mister.” 

“Or we can stay here,” he suggested, bringing you back to his lap, “And play while they watch the movie?”

“Another time,” you said, leaving his lap and taking his hand. 

Jongho sighed defeatedly and followed you back into the living room. You took a seat with Mingi, and snuggled with him underneath the blanket. The winter chill became more noticeable in the lounge area than anywhere else in the dorm. You regretted not wearing more layers than the tanktop, sweatshirt, and shorts you’d pulled on. Making a mental note to finally do your laundry was interrupted by gentle lips pecking the cartilage of your ear. 

"I missed you," Mingi said, kissing the spot again. "I haven’t seen you all day.”

“You did see me though,” you told him, flipping over to look at him properly. “You saw me this morning when you woke up.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” you laughed, recalling a groggy, disheveled Mingi leaving his room earlier that morning. “I said ‘morning, princess’ and you went ‘mmphrfmurmur’ and went into the bathroom.” 

“I don’t remember that,” he replied, smiling softly. “I was half-asleep.”

“When did you go to bed?”

“Late.”

The Ateez way of saying ‘probably at 2 or 3am’. You’d gotten used to hearing this answer from any given member, so you said nothing else and moved onto another subject. 

“What’d you do today?” he asked, putting an arm around you. At this, you saw a hint of realization hit him, but much like Yeosang, Mingi just kept on talking, “You were gone all day.” 

"Going anywhere but to her appointments," said Seonghwa, already munching on popcorn while waiting on the others to pick a movie. "Sungmi called," he said, "She's supposed to call one of us if you miss too many. Why aren't you going, babe? You know you're supposed to."

"They're going to think we have you locked up in a bedroom somewhere if you don't go soon," joked Jongho, who’d taken a spot between Yeosang and Seonghwa.  

"I don't need to go," you whined, turning over to look at him. "If there was something wrong with me, I'd know and I'd go."

"That doesn't matter," said Seonghwa. "Go to the appointment." He looked over at Hongjoong, who was arguing with Yeosang about the movie choices. "Hongjoong, tell her to go to her appointment. She listens to you."

"Nah, not that one! Let's watch the first one. That's the best one," he told Yeosang, not having heard Seonghwa.

"They're all lame, in my opinion," said San. "Does it have to be that one?”

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa threw a popcorn piece at Hongjoong, who looked at him affronted, "Tell YN to go to her agency appointments. Sungmi says she has to go or they're going to do a house visit."

"Why aren't you meeting with Sungmi?" He asked you curiously. "It’s not just for us, but it’s for your health.” 

"They schedule them too early," you said, giving him your famous pouting expression. 

"Then reschedule them for later in the day. You have to go to these appointments; it’s in the contract that you go at least every three or four months" he said. 

"But I don't need to. I’m fine.” 

"Oh, really?" A smirk slowly stretched across his face, "Maybe we should give you a reason to go, then? Since you don't have one?"

The others stifled laughter, and your cheeks burned again. The words 'bodily trauma' came back, and a shiver went up your spine. Not once have your partners pushed you beyond your limits or boundaries; they made sure you remained comfortable and safe as possible. Yet, the slight implication in Hongjoong’s question brought a creeping heat around your ears. You hid half your face to conceal your embarrassed smile. 

"I'll go," you squeaked.

"What was that?" He asked, tilting his ear towards you. 

"I'll go to the appointment tomorrow."

"Good girl," he smiled fondly. He turned to Seonghwa, "See? It's that easy." He turned back to Yeosang and San, “Let’s watch the first one. It’s so bad, it’s almost good.” 

Seonghwa chucked another popcorn kernel at him, though ruined the effect by laughing. The group finally decided on a film, and settled in as it started to play. Mingi curled into the corner of the couch and put his arm around you underneath the blanket, so your back remained facing him. The warmth of him and the blanket fought off the winter air pressing into the glass windows. The movie, a sci-fi film featuring a scientist, a county sheriff, and a pair of college kids taking on a half-octopus/half-shark monster, proved as terrible as Hongjoong insisted it’d be. Though, the boys and you took this in spirit; you all made fun of the movie rather than take it seriously. You laid there in Mingi’s arms as you enjoyed their company. It felt good being surrounded by all of them at once, rather than in pairs or smaller groups. 

A bikini clad girl happened to be screaming bloody murder when something else took your notice. At first, you thought the small bump might be bundled up fabric or simply your imagination. You focused your attention on the girl making feeble attempts to swim from the CGI shark-topus, but when Mingi shifted uncomfortably, you couldn’t help but move with him. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi mumbled in your ear, lips right against the edge, “I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” you said as quietly as possible. You did your best not to move too much, but the hardness poking your ass tempted you. “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Mingi slowly rocked his hips into you, the shaft of his length pushing into the fabric of your shorts. The lack of underwear caused an even more apparent warmth. His arms secured you close to him underneath the blanket, and he began kissing the crook of your neck. “Is that why you’re not wearing any underwear?” 

“Haven’t done laundry yet,” you said. Thinking about it now, you realized how they might perceive this, especially when Mingi’s cock twitched against you. “I didn’t have any to wear.” 

“And instead of washing some,” he began, “You decided to walk around without underwear? In this dorm?” you heard the accusation in his voice, and he laughed, “It sounds planned to me…and maybe I should give you what you want.”

“Mingi…” the heat from before crept over the rest of your body now, and the cool air no longer bothered you. "Here?"

"If that's what you want," he said, deep voice sending shivers to your core. "We can go to my bedroom instead. They can listen to us rather than watch this crappy movie." He kissed the crook of your neck, and said, "I know you like it when we overhear you…"

He wasn't wrong. You never said it out loud but anyone paying attention during sex would notice how aroused you became at being watched. Most of the members knew this, and the naughtier ones liked doing it within the vicinity of others. You gazed back into the room as Mingi groped and rubbed up on you. The other members sat near you; all of them remained focused on the movie playing in the living room, except for one. Hongjoong. He didn’t fully turn around, but he’d looked over to see you in Mingi’s arms. The light of the television illuminated the knowing smirk that went across his face. He scanned down your body, as if he could see through the thick blanket, and you bit back a whimper. He knew, even if nobody else noticed. Warmth began pooling between your legs as you pictured him coming over, pulling off the covers and pawing at you with Mingi. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your eyes stayed locked with his, and you gave a pleading expression. He glanced at the rest of the room as if to say, "Right here? You dirty girl." 

You wouldn't have denied it either. The dirtiest fantasies of yours involved all of them ganging up on you, using your body any way they wanted and bringing you to climax multiple times. Hongjoong knew this because you’d confessed it to him; he said it’d be the hottest thing you ever did. However, you never brought it up to anyone else. You weren’t sure if you could physically handle all eight men taking advantage of you. You knew possibly three or four is manageable for you, but eight is excessive. You knew if you did that, you wouldn’t sit or walk right for a while; particularly with how horny and dirty some members get in the heat of the moment. The full on orgy would stay in your fantasies. 

Mingi slipped his hands underneath your sweater, and you jumped at his cold fingers. Hongjoong didn’t look away; his leering didn’t alert anyone around him, so he kept watching. You dared to release a soft whimper when those hands grasped your breasts over your tank top. Mingi hummed in your ear, continuing to gradually grind into you. The movie’s volume drowned out any noises made between you, and your blanket concealed your movements. Hands over the tanktop and under your sweater, Mingi pinched and rolled your nipples gently. 

“You really like when he watches, don’t you?” Mingi asked. 

“A little.” 

He let his lips linger on your shoulder, “I think it’s more than ‘a little’.” 

The gesture sent waves of warmth to your lower half, where you started pushing back into Mingi’s hips subtly. You could feel Hongjoong casting occasional glances your way, which only added fuel to the fire. You felt Mingi’s length grow against you, the small bump getting steadily harder. Your pussy pulsed when he gave your tits another squeeze and pinched your nipples at the same time. Your thighs squeezed together for a form of friction, but wished for more. 

“You’re not wearing a bra either. I can’t resist you when you’re braless.” He pecked the spot beneath your ear and said, “It’s torture…You do it on purpose,” he added the last bit as he rolled your nipples in his fingers. 

A sudden gasp escaped you when a small surge of cold air snuck under the fleece blanket, and a hand slipped right between your thighs. You opened them to see Wooyoung right beside you on the floor. Dark eyes usually full of sweetness and innocence looked at you with seductive lust. His hand slid along the inner seam of your shorts; that dangerous seam connecting both sides together where he could feel your pussy the easiest. Merely the warmth of his hand built up your arousal further. His middle fingernail dragged against the seam, a very slight vibration coming from the friction. 

“He’s not the only one,” said Wooyoung, clearly having overheard you both. “I like looking at them too, but I personally think you should be bottomless instead.” He pushed his finger to your sex oh-so-slightly, causing you to exhale deeply. He could no doubt feel your bare sex underneath the flimsy shorts, since he then lightly rolled his fingers around it. He smirked when you clenched your thighs around his hand. “That way, I can see this pussy whenever I want without so many layers in the way. You always keep it looking so pretty and yummy,” he gave a small growl before sealing his lips over yours. Mingi continued groping your tits while Wooyoung fondled your pussy. “I can't get enough of it."

"Me neither," agreed Mingi, who continued groping your chest and kissing you. "But your tits are my favorite part."

Mingi pulled the blanket off you and lifted your sweater and top over your chest. You gasped at the sudden exposure, but it did not last long. Mingi shifted around to let you lay on your back as both men started licking and sucking your nipples. The sensation of two mouths teasing your breasts and two hands roaming your body electrified you. You tried staying quiet as Mingi firmly sucked one nipple and Wooyoung slowly swirled his tongue around the other. Wooyoung kept tracing the inner seam to drive you wild, and you almost forgot the other men in the room. ‘Almost’ because another pair of hands soon joined in. Sliding up your thighs, Yunho kissed his way to your hips, sliding up the chaise section to your legs. 

“What’s going on over here, hm?” he asked, dotting kisses on your thighs. “Is this movie too boring for you?”

“It sucks,” said Mingi, capturing your lips for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, unable to stop yourself. “I found something more interesting to do instead.” 

Yunho’s long arms reached up far enough to the curves of your breasts. He took up the one Mingi abandoned, and carefully circled his thumb around your hard nipple. You surrendered completely once Yunho’s fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts. 

“Let’s get these off,” he said, kissing down your stomach as Wooyoung switched sides and suckled your other breast. You felt more exposed once Yunho pulled off your shorts to reveal the truth. “Oh god, no panties,” he breathed, “I knew it. I could tell when I saw you in the kitchen.”

“Me too,” said Wooyoung, who joined him in kissing down your body. “I told her she should walk around bottomless from now on. That way,” he went back to rubbing your sex and you squirmed at the new feeling, “I can see this whenever I want.” 

“Fuck, if you did that,” Yunho moaned, sitting on the couch and spreading your legs, “You’d be sitting on my face nearly all day.” 

“I’d love it,” you breathed in between Mingi’s kisses, “I love your tongues so much.”

“Oh, do you?” Wooyoung said, mischief in his voice as he knelt closer to your hips. He sat up fully to hover over your pussy. Having him and Yunho this close made your clit throb. “No wonder you flaunted it in the kitchen. It is where we eat after all…”

“I’m pretty hungry right now…” said Yunho, laying between your legs on the couch and swiping his tongue over your slit. 

Mingi took over your nipples while Wooyoung and Yunho rested over your lower half. Being pinned down by Wooyoung’s arm, you couldn’t move away from the light brushes against your lips. One tongue already made you a whining mess; two tongues had your eyes rolling back. The tips of their tongues prodded between your folds carefully, sliding and licking them open until they found your clitoris. Yunho’s tongue licked over the underside while Wooyoung took over the top. Both of their tongues came together in the middle, creating this encompassing sensation that had you breaking away from Mingi to moan out loud. You didn’t care if the others heard you. You wanted them to hear you. You wanted all of them, at once, together. Hongjoong happened to be looking on longer as the three men groped and licked you. Your cheeks heated up from the sudden realization from his staring, and you looked away. It was when Wooyoung took your clit in his mouth, and moaned against it that you let go. Yunho, liking this reaction, did the same when his turn came. Both men began alternating: Yunho at your entrance and Wooyoung on your clit. You thought you might lose your mind. 

You then reached down Mingi’s body to the boner pulsing against your side just to hear his deep, low groan in your ear. You rubbed along the tent forming in his shorts until you pushed it aside to let his cock out. Your mouth watered, feeling the thick muscle pulsate against your pelvis and picturing it elsewhere. You loved hearing the members moan when you had sex with them. You loved Wooyoung’s soft sighs and Yunho's throaty groans. Mingi was no exception. He moaned into your neck, groping your breasts still and rocking into your hand. You gripped it gently to wipe your fingers over the wrinkled underside, the sensitive part that made him harder. You loved pleasuring them as much as they loved pleasuring you. 

“I’d gladly walk around naked,” you said to them, arching your back as Wooyoung and Yunho’s tongues flicked your sex, “If you guys do too. Living in a dorm with so many yummy cocks to choose from is a dream.” 

They all chuckled as they pleased you. Then, another voice called out when a lamp turned on. “Hey, turn her around so the rest of us can watch too.” 

It was Jongho, and his comment made all of you laugh. Yeosang, sitting beside him on the couch, flicked on the opposite lamp. A bit of shame heated your cheeks as dim lighting brought you into their view. No matter how long you’d been with them, having their attention on you still made you bashful. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho let you sit up on the couch. You let Mingi pull off your sweater so you sat naked under their gaze. Their jaws dropped seeing you bare in front of them in the living room, a public place in your dorm. They still reacted this way whenever they saw you naked. Whether in the bedroom or somewhere else, every time was their first time. Nothing made you feel more desirable than having all of them entranced by your body. 

“Lean back, baby,” Mingi said, tugging down his shorts and kneeling beside you. 

You took his tip in your mouth at once, giving a soft moan when the hot tip touched your tongue. Yunho and Wooyoung knelt in front of you, each man holding one of your legs and continued eating you out together. Inch by inch, you drew Mingi further in; you held him by the base, cupping his balls in your hand at the same time so he had that extra stimulation. You looked up to see Mingi had stripped further down, his naked torso now visible and making him a jaw-dropping sight. Full lips parted in every moan, you saw the need for release etched into his features, but you refused to give him that. Not right away. The slew of moans the two men beneath you caused became muffled by Mingi’s dick; an act you’re certain drives him wild. Mingi liked pleasuring you while you pleasured him for this reason.

Slurping up the juices your spit and his precum made, you let your tongue linger under for a few moments before suckling the throbbing muscle. You could feel it pulse on your tongue and against your cheeks; more precum leaked inside and you swallowed greedily. All this made Mingi grab a hold of your hair and force you to the base. Letting him guide you, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth. The bundle of sensations coursing through your body caused trembling and sensitivity as Wooyoung and Yunho brought you closer to climax. You knew you'd explode from their tongues teasing your sex from top to bottom repeatedly. Their light flicking tightened the knots tightening between your legs. 

"So soon, baby?" Yunho said, pecking along your inner thigh. "We've barely started."

"I can't help it," you whimpered. "It feels so good-Ah, Wooyoungie!" 

Wooyoung responded with a growl he made sure you'd feel. His tongue slashed across your clit from side to side and you nearly collapsed from the sensation. Mingi pushed himself back into your mouth, grunting and groaning along with you. The climax burning in your lower stomach slowly built until you were shaking. You'd always been able to hold it back whenever you took on multiple partners, but the possibility of fulfilling your greatest fantasy charged it forward. You didn't know what the end result would be, and you couldn't wait for it. 

"No, no, no," Wooyoung said, pulling away right as your orgasm touched the edge. "You hold onto that for now."

"You haven't been fucked yet," Yunho added. "You don't want to cum without anything inside you, do you?" 

"But…but I don't know if I can," you pouted at him. "It tingles a lot."

They awed at this, and it was Mingi who spoke. "Just relax and enjoy this," Mingi sighed, pressing his tip to your mouth again.  

“I’ll take your mind off it.”

San. You knew what he meant before he even approached. He positioned himself opposite Mingi; he stood on the couch and leaned on his side. Your mouth dropped open when he pulled his pants to his thighs. Having San exposed like this made you gravitate to him. Your body continued gradually coming down from the edging, so neither Wooyoung or Yunho touched you right away. They stuck to being spectators below, watching you along with everyone else. 

Stroking Mingi’s wet cock, you opened your mouth for San. He groaned at the first touch of your tongue to his underside. San liked it when you took your time; he didn’t like hasty, half-assed sex. You licked him from base to tip without using your hand, so his shaft stayed on your face every lick. San groaned as he watched you trace the veins along his stiffness and suck on the tip each time. Concentrating on both Mingi and San made it easier to avoid stirring up your orgasm again. You turned to Mingi, and opened your mouth for him. He grabbed his base to smack the head on your tongue, sliding it along the length of your tongue before pushing into your mouth. 

“Such a dirty girl,” San moaned, forcing your head back so both cocks settled over your mouth, “You can never have enough dick, can you?” When you shook your head, the room chuckled. “I think you’re going to get more than your fill of dick tonight, sweetie.” 

“Especially when you’re so eager for more…”

Mingi held you by the hair as they took turns in your mouth. All around you, you could hear the other members talking and felt their eyes drinking you in. You didn’t feel an ounce of shame. They loved you, and you loved them. You had no reason to be ashamed of this kind of behavior. You liked having them watch. Before any of them ever touched you, you used to like letting them sneak peeks at you in the shower or in your bedroom, getting dressed. The largest turn on was when one member walked in on you with another, and he stayed to watch. They know you like being watched, and did it now just for you. When San plunged himself down into your throat, you received nothing but encouragement and praise. 

“Hold it, hold it,” you heard Seonghwa’s deep voice instruct from nearby. “See how long you can keep that dick in your throat, baby.” Your throat tightened reflexively around the intrusive length, and you struggled for air for a few seconds. “Remember what I taught you,” he said, sounding closer now, “Relax and breathe through your nose.” 

You tried. You really did, but you finally pulled away from San, coughing and gasping for air. You looked to see Seonghwa sitting where Wooyoung had been on your left, hand gently rubbing your inner thigh. Shirtless in lounge pants, Seonghwa was a vision of beauty. Black hair in an undercut, sharp features bare and perfect, he resembled a painting in a high end museum. How could you not love a face like his?

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, chest heaving up and down. “I tried.”

“That’s okay, angel,” he said, “Try it with Mingi’s now.” 

Mingi guided you fully onto his dick, your lips brushing the hilt while his cock touched your throat. He isn’t as long or as large as San, so you managed it with ease. Seonghwa looked on intently. He liked seeing you give the other members blowjobs before getting one himself; he once said he liked having them warm you up for him. Mingi and San both groaned each time you took one of them in your throat. San moved in and out of it easily, enjoying the gagging sounds you made each time he did it; Mingi liked keeping you firmly down while Wooyoung and Yunho made you moan through your throat. The pleasure heightened when a tongue swiped over your soaked, stimulated pussy. 

“Mm, tastes so good,” Seonghwa growled, making sure you felt it before he suckled the sensitive nub. “I could eat this all day, and never get bored.” He gave it a soft kiss, “Especially if she’s throating my cock while I do it.” 

“Same” Wooyoung agreed, using his turn to make rapid swirling motions there. This instantly stoked the fires inside you again. Yet, every time you grew close, they pulled away. It became total torture that you never wanted to stop. “I could do this all day. I don’t care if my jaw locks up. Hearing her cum is worth it every time.”

The members laughed at his bold statement, but it only made you hornier. You went back to sucking Mingi’s dripping cock when something slim and long finally slid inside you. You looked to see Yunho’s mouth agape as he slowly pumped two fingers into your pussy. He shifted to the side somewhat so the rest of the room could see his fingers stretching your hole while the other two licked your clit. San had been fucking your mouth when Seonghwa and Wooyoung spread your lips further to greedily lap at the pearl hiding in the folds. The cries of pleasure were muffled by the thick cock filling your mouth, but they heard them nevertheless. 

“I think she’s going to cum,” Yunho said smugly, maintaining the same pace throughout. “I can feel that pussy getting tighter and tighter.” He pulled them out to rub your juices over your clit and back down, your clit getting a break from tongues to enjoy fingers instead. Your mumbled whimper amused him, and he repeated the torturous motion again. 

“I don’t know if I want her to cum yet,” Seonghwa pouted, kissing up your body to your nipple which he suckled softly. “I just got here. Let me see…” His hand replaced Yunho’s inside you, also going slow and steady. You could feel his fingers prod your g-spot briefly, making you see stars behind your eyelids. Each stroke had you whining, and sucking two different cocks added to this pleasure. “She is close,” he agreed with Yunho. “Look at her, she’s shaking,” you heard the taunt in his voice, and you switched over to Mingi once more. Your eyes met his and his jaw dropped, “I bet you want to cum really bad, don’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you gasped, taking a moment to breathe and stroking both San and Mingi. 

“Let me…” Wooyoung stopped using his mouth and instead fingered you right as Seonghwa withdrew. “Ooh,” he cooed, “It’s squeezing my fingers every time I go in. Especially when I go in deep like this.” 

He demonstrated by sinking his fingers into the last knuckle, pressing on your g-spot and making you cry out. He did this repeatedly a few times, and brought you so close you nearly went over. He pulled them out to rub over your clit once more. He started rubbing your clit up and down while Yunho’s fingers filled your pussy again. Seonghwa took occasional flicks and licked up the mess your juices made. It reminded you of the time San and Wooyoung tied you to your bed, where they teased and edged you the way you liked. You went back to sucking Mingi’s cock, the blond haired man groaning as you hollowed your cheeks for him. Seeing your shaking thighs and hearing your moans, the other members sensed your orgasm from afar. 

“Come on, now. You know you want to cum.”

“You don’t have to hold back anymore, baby. We want to hear you cum.”

From across the room, your eyes locked with Hongjoong’s. He sat in the arm chair at the end of the couch, lounging casually and watching you like he’s watching his favorite tv program. The sight of him passively observing you somehow made you more sensitive. 

You’d never tell a single soul just how much you enjoyed Hongjoong’s cock. You'd never reveal how his dick was the one you craved during lonely nights; how you loved the feel, the taste, and the size of him. He’d been your first, and he’d always carry that title with him. Yunho sunk his fingers deeper inside, moving them faster and angling them a bit higher; Wooyoung worked on your clit while Seonghwa reached up to suck your nipples. Hongjoong caught your gaze, and groped the bulge growing in his pants. 

“Cum,” he mouthed out, biting his lower lip and eyeing you closely.  

As if activated by his voice alone, you climaxed. Body stiffening on the couch, muscles contracting, your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm blew through you. You suddenly became so hyper aware of the men stimulating you; the men watching you in the room and eagerly awaiting their turn with you. Yunho kept the same pace during your orgasm, the motion of his fingers making your eyes roll back. It was absolute bliss. 

Coming down from your orgasm, you saw Jongho and Yeosang preparing a space in the center of the living room. Jongho placed down blankets from around the couches, while Yeosang put pillows where you’d be more comfortable. Seonghwa guided you from the couch to a space on the floor, where he let you kneel down on a long pillow cushioning your knees. Taking up your hair again, this time he eased his cock into your mouth. Your throat already accustomed to it from Mingi and San, you took his cock with nearly no difficulty. The entry burned your throat every so often, and brought tears to your eyes. They brimmed your eyelashes, and trickled down the sides to your cheeks. Seonghwa only wiped them away with his thumb. 

"Take it easy," he said gently. "You don't have to be so hasty with me."

Seonghwa never bragged about it, but they considered his dick ‘above average’. Not huge or disturbingly big, it still took a bit of effort where penetration was concerned. When he went in, you definitely felt him for sure. You gingerly sucked and licked him, not taking him in your throat until you felt ready to do so. 

“Look at him,” Seonghwa told you, and you knew who he meant. “Look over at him while you suck me off.” You glanced over at Hongjoong, who’d started stroking himself under his pants. You wanted so badly to walk over and pleasure him yourself. But, you knew he wouldn’t want that. “You know how much he likes watching you be used like a little fuck doll. Give him something to watch.”

Seonghwa let out a low groan as you started sliding your mouth up and down on him. You felt the heat of Hongjoong’s eyes on your body; you felt them peeling away at you until he reached your core, where your dirtiest fantasies lay hidden. Opening your mouth, you stroked Seonghwa over your tongue so Hongjoong saw thin droplets of precum fall into your mouth. You enjoyed the salty taste, licking up from base to tip and spitting some onto it before sucking on it again. The arousal flared when Yunho took up the space next to you and grabbed your hand to wrap around his cock. After choking yourself on Seonghwa’s dick the way Hongjoong liked, you did the same to Yunho, who let out hoarse groans as you did it. Yunho never pressured or forced you to pick up speed; he liked letting it naturally play out between you both. Jerking Seonghwa at the same speed, strings of profanities and moans came while you took turns on each one. Soon, more drool leaked from the sides of your mouth, which you usually wiped away, but Hongjoong was watching. He liked you messy. 

San knelt behind you. You knew it was him by the warm hands starting to roam your sides. He reached around to your pussy where he started stroking you lightly. Your clitoris still felt sensitive from your first orgasm, yet you craved more. One hand spreading your lips apart, the other moistened your entrance with the cum left inside you. You gasped around Yunho’s length when you felt something hard pressed to your entrance. San swirled his tip around your sex a few times, moaning softly before sinking it an inch or two inside. You let go of Seonghwa and Yunho to lean forward onto another pillow, arching your back to slide more of him inside. A whole new wave of euphoria arrived the moment he filled you completely. You lifted your head to realize Hongjoong was not that far from you, possibly a few feet. His eyes went from your face to where your body met San’s, and he stopped stroking himself. 

“How’s that, baby?” San asked, starting off with a steady speed. “Hm?”

“So…So good,” you whimpered, “Go faster. Please.”

He didn’t disappoint. San drove his hips into you faster, and you felt his cock reach further inside. Right as he got into a proper rhythm, another member took the space in front of you. Jongho, the youngest of them all, smirked down at you. He held his dick out in front of you, slowly rubbing it as he’d done this entire time. 

“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, scooting closer to you and lifting your head upright. “I’ve been dying to fuck your mouth all night.” 

“Pl-please,” you said through gritted teeth as San held onto your hips and pulled you onto him. 

“Then open up.” 

He eased himself into your anticipating mouth. Jongho took no effort at all, and he always kept gentleness laced into the roughness. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself as far as he could, yet did not do so roughly. Your constant stream of whimpers and whines became stifled by the cock buried hilt deep in your mouth. Jongho’s precum added a new flavor to the mixture already there, and also left your cheeks and chin a mess. You could feel the other members around you, awaiting their turn while Hongjoong looked onwards. Even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he watched. Jongho occasionally released you so everyone heard your guttural, hoarse moans from San’s thrusting hips. 

“You look so pretty like this, Noona,” Jongho huffed, using that affectionate formality he knew sparked something inside you. “All dirty and horny while we use your…your holes,” he said, pushing himself back into your mouth. “I could do this all day.” 

“Me too…” 

Yeosang knelt beside Jongho, who withdrew his member to let Yeosang go next. Much like Jongho, you had no trouble sucking him deeply and firmly. Suddenly, you became surrounded. Two hands grabbed your breasts and pinched your nipples, while a third hand languidly stroked your clit. From the sounds around you, Seonghwa and Yunho played with your nipples and Wooyoung once again touched you further down. A sharp smack on your ass came from Mingi, who took hold off both cheeks and spread them as San charged inside you. In a few long strokes, San stopped completely and something dripped onto your ass hole. 

“Her ass is so nice,” Wooyoung moaned, no doubt looking on as Mingi rolled his thumb around your ass. “That’s another one I could eat all day if she let me…” 

Wooyoung’s oral fixation had no bounds, and you loved it. “Touch it,” you moaned, taking Yeosang out to say it, “Please. I love it when you play with my ass.”

They all laughed softly, and Mingi smacked your ass again. “Is that so?” Wooyoung’s hand left your clit for your ass, smoothing over one cheek before giving it a sharp slap. “If that’s true, then maybe I should eat your ass more often.”

“I bet she’d cum just from that alone,” Mingi said, bending to lick the hole which caused you to cry with Jongho in your mouth. “I’d love to try one day.” 

“She has,” Wooyoung told him. He joined in the teasing, spitting and swiping over it with Mingi. “She can be a real filthy slut when she wants to be.”

“The filthiest.” Hongjoong’s high voice reached you over the commotion, and you pushed yourself into San’s hips faster and harder. “She’s nothing but a dirty pervert who craves our dicks all day long.”

“Hyung!” Yeosang huffed with a laugh, even turning over to look at him. 

Jongho and him moved to look at Hongjoong, but he only had eyes for you.  That familiar glint of depraved lust winked at you, and you so badly wanted him to join. But, you knew he wouldn’t right away. Hongjoong managed his arousal way too well for your liking. The others could become almost feral when in the moment, but not Hongjoong. His cock stood up straight, laying on his stomach and twitching at the lightest ministrations but he did not give into that primal instinct inside him. Having him watching you this way brought you closer to the edge on San’s member, making you grunt in every push. 

“Isn’t that right, YN?” he asked, running his fingers up and down the underside of his engorged hardon. A trickle of precum wet his fingers, and you licked your lips. He laughed, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you squeaked as a finger started rolling around the rim of your ass. Wooyoung spat between your cheeks again, and he spread it around. “Oh fuck, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I am a filthy slut! I am!”

Your answer satisfied him, and he continued touching himself. “Show me then,” he said, “Show me what a slut you can really be.”

You continued working on both Yeosang and Jongo, switching between them every so often to pleasure them both while Wooyoung’s fingers pushed right into the brim of your ass. Seonghwa then lifted you up as far as San’s dick allowed and spoke into your ear. 

“I want you to ride me,” he said, licking the edge of your ear to kiss your neck, “While your real owner watches you.” He rapidly began rubbing your sensitive clit, making you clench your thighs and squirm. “Because that’s what he is. We might date and fuck you, but you’re his. All his. I want him to see how good I fuck you when he’s not here to do it.”

San, having overheard the conversation being so close, added, “He loves watching us fuck you this way. He’s even asked me to fuck you in front of him before, you know.” He leaned close to your ear, “Be a good girl and ride Seonghwa for your owner.��� 

Seonghwa laid down beside you and the others released you. Yet, right as he did this, a small blue packet landed on his chest. You all looked up to see Hongjoong holding a box of condoms. Beside it, you spotted a bottle of lubricant and a gray shoe box. You gulped at the sight of the box. You knew what was inside, and it excited you. But knowing them, they won't pull those out right away. 

"We have these for a reason," he said, putting the condoms on the couch where they could easily grab it. "Please use them."

Seonghwa smirked at him, and tore open the condom wrapper. Once he slid it over his cock, you straddled him. On sore knees, you sunk yourself onto him right away. Leaning forward, you kept your back arched as more hands rubbed over your body. Yeosang and Jongho took turns stimulating your clit as you started gradually rocking on Seonghwa’s dick, causing you to fall deeper into a whirl of pleasure. This new angle had his cock pressing into your g-spot again, and their hands only pushed it along. Wooyoung left your ass for your mouth, which you opened gladly to let him in. Seonghwa, with a perfect view of Wooyoung abusing your throat, moaned in utter satisfaction and pushed his hips into yours. It was the wet tongue and fingers on your ass that excited you immensely. San, most likely lying fully on his stomach in between Seonghwa’s legs, had pulled your buttocks apart to lap at your hole. Your muscles tensed once more as Seonghwa angled his body to bury deep inside you; the arms holding you up started trembling and you knew you’d give out right away. 

“Lay down, baby,” Wooyoung said, kneeling down over Seonghwa’s head and bringing you at level with him, “That’s it…just relax and-Ah, fuck, hyung!”

“You shouldn’t have brought them so close to me,” Seonghwa chortled, and you saw his tongue flick over Wooyoung’s balls. He hummed around one and the vibration made Wooyoung wriggle over him. “Such a sensitive boy; just like our sweet YN.”

And so you both went to work on Wooyoung. The slim, dark-haired man whimpered and moaned at the two mouths pleasuring him. Your second climax finally arrived when Mingi’s fingers slipped into your ass without warning. The mixture of all the different sensations had you tearing up and shaking uncontrollably. Wooyoung’s cock sunk deep into your throat, just so he could feel you moaning around him. 

“That’s it…Just like that,” Seonghwa moaned from underneath, “Cum all over my cock. I love feeling your pussy get tighter around..me…” 

“Be nice and loud for Joong-hyung,” Mingi groaned in your ear, keeping his fingering careful and slow. “He loves hearing you cum like that. Yeah, just like that.” 

He cooed at you when your orgasm strengthened and you grew louder. You finally stopped, shaking and quivering, as it came down. Every muscle in your body felt weak, but the burning desire to keep going overpowered the physical tiredness. It was everything you pictured it to be. All the nasty, self-disrespecting actions you always pictured yourself doing even despite your self-respect were coming true. The best part of it was Hongjoong’s approval of the treatment. 

“Come here, angel.” Mingi grabbed a condom from the box next, and laid down next to Seonghwa. “Turn around for me,” he said and you did as told. 

You expected him to slide himself into your pussy, but instead, he pushed his tip to your lubed ass hole. When you gasped, he paused, “I need you to relax, okay? Take a deep breath for me.” When you nodded and tried calming down, he said, “Just let go and enjoy yourself.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, “I’m going to fuck you in your ass now. You can go at any pace you want; don’t feel you have to go too fast or too hard. Fuck…yes, like that. Take it nice and easy, angel.”

He grunted when you gingerly sank halfway down on him. “Mingi-ah,” Hongjoong said, “Here.”

He passed Mingi the lubricant from the couch. Cold and sticky, Mingi poured a bit onto his length and then on you. While it made your ride easier, nothing compared to the stretch and full feeling it created. Anal always left a lasting impression, especially since it made you feel particularly stuck on him. Yeosang knelt down in front of you, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone. 

“You’re doing such a great job, darling,” he praised, kissing the base of your neck. “I know you’re getting tired, but you only need to go a little longer, okay?” He massaged your bottom tenderly, pecking your lips and kissing you softly. You watched him take up the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. “Want me to finger you?” he asked, tracing cold digits across your heat, “While Mingi fills your ass? I know you love having more than one.”

“Yes,” you whined, sinking fully onto Mingi before slowly coming back up. “Please.”

Yeosang sunk two fingers into you, and you moaned loudly. He let you grind and brush into his palm each time you went down; he sometimes picked up the pace if he thought you’d grown too quiet. Out of habit, you grabbed his boner to stroke slowly. The addition of lube he poured on the tip had Yeosang softly panting in your ear. You’d been lost in the feeling of the two men pleasuring you that you didn’t notice Yunho coming up beside you with something small and pink in his hand. 

“I think I know exactly what our pretty girl needs,” he said, voice full of mischief. “Just keep riding Mingi while we do the work for you.”

You looked at him to see a body wand in his hand. Your pussy instinctively clenched Yeosang’s fingers, and he pushed them further inside to wriggle the tips close to your g-spot. The gentle vibrating coming from the wand made you nearly dizzy from stimulation, creating squeals and high pitched cries whenever it rolled directly onto you. Yeosang removed his fingers so Yunho could place the head of the toy right over your entrance. You started bouncing on Mingi faster, the vibrations causing sharp tickling sensations that matched the feeling from behind. Yunho did not move away; he followed your hips wherever they went, even wiggling the wand from side to side. The members watched in awe as Mingi held you in place and started pushing into you. 

“Yun…Ho…” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. “Yunho, it tingles!” 

“I know, baby,” he smiled, “Hongjoong-hyung gave it to me for us to play with. Tell him how happy you are that he got it for you. Go on.”

“I’m ss-s-s-so ha-happy! Ah-” 

Yeosang put his fingers back inside when you leaned back and Yunho tapped your clit with the wand. Your third climax hit you harder than the first two. Your body turned stiff, your head cocked to one side and eyes squeezed shut tightly. Yeosang waited until you’d fully stopped to slide his fingers between your parted lips. Sucking them eagerly, you let out several shaky breaths and did your best to stay up straight. 

“You okay?” Yunho asked, tucking hair behind your ear. “Do you want to take a break?” When you shook your head, he said, “You don’t have to take all of us right now if you can’t. We won’t be upset. You’ve done so much already, baby.” 

You turned your head to look at him, starting to ride Mingi again, “I want to keep going. I love it too much to stop now.” 

He smiled and kissed you, “If you ever want to stop or have a break, you know the word to use, right?”

You nodded. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked, kissing down your chest. 

“Buttercup…”

“That’s right. Good girl. Lay down on the couch for us,” Yeosang said, “Get comfortable.”

Yunho helped you over to the couch, where you rested against Yeosang in front of a large pillow and sunk into his comforting arms. Yunho lifted your ankles to his shoulders, and rolled on a condom before handing one to Yeosang. He waited until you settled down to sink inside you. Yeosang then pushed his own cock into your ass, since now Mingi stretched it enough that the pain did not burn so hotly. Both men worked you gently, watching you melt between them as more pleasure pulsed through you. Seonghwa came back up to the side of the couch, body wand in hand, and rolled the vibrating head over your nipple. The tickling feeling surged down in your loins where Yunho and Yeosang slowly pushed in and out of you. Jongho came beside the lower half where his fingers lightly ran over the lips of your pussy, making you squirm and tremble. Your walls clutched Yunho tightly, and this made him thrust deeper and faster. 

“Are you going to come already?” Yunho panted, holding onto the backs of your knees as he moved. “Is your pussy that sensitive?” 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, huffing and puffing from exhaustion as the men used you. “It feels so…good…” you kept your eyes closed as they all worked on you. “Don’t stop no-now…I’ve wanted this for such a long-long time.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang asked, grabbing your breasts and holding them for Seonghwa’s toy to tease them more accurately. “Maybe Hongjoong is right. You are a dirty slut. Is this what you were thinking about when I caught you using your toys in the bathtub? You remember that, don’t you?”

You did. Vividly. You recalled Yeosang walking in by accident, seeing you sitting on the edge of the tub and holding a vibrator to your cunt. He’d joined you right away, fondling and kissing you while sliding the toy in and out. “Yes,” you moaned, “But I still liked it when it was just you.”

“So sweet,” Yeosang awed, thrusting up in time with Yunho now so they filled you together. “Go ahead and cum again for us. You can do it, baby. We know you can.”

A fourth orgasm erupted in a scream. Yunho and Yeosang kept the same pace, but Seonghwa and Jongho focused their efforts on your clit. Seonghwa pushed the toy down while Jongho held the lips apart. Sharp pain and pleasure mingled inside and you quaked in their embrace. They hardly gave you time to relax as Yunho and Yeosang withdrew before Jongho got his hands on you. Laying you on your side on the floor, he lifted one thigh above the other and slipped himself inside you immediately. It was then you noticed the box. A small gray shoebox with a designer label on the side. Hongjoong didn’t only bring the body wand. He brought the whole box. Jongho started pounding you right away, moaning your name and squeezing your tits while you stared at the box at Hongjoong’s feet. He gave you his devilish smirk and nodded to the toy box. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jongho asked, bending over to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You feel so good and I’m so fucking turned on by you.”

“Don’t stop,” you muttered, pushing into him and keeping his hands on your chest. The remains of your last orgasm, and the pure adrenaline coursing in your body kept you going at this point. “I want you to keep going. Please?”

Jongho, always needing reassurance you wanted him, started rocking himself deeply inside you. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you,” he admitted to you, kissing up your neck, “It’s why I like fucking you in my room when Yeosang and Wooyoung are there. I like watching you take more than one cock at a time.”

“Jongho,” you giggled, pushing back into him, “You naughty boy.”

“You make me naughty,” he smirked, pushing deep inside and staying there. “But,” he pinched your nipple gently, “There’s someone here who likes watching you more than me.” He kissed your cheek, and then said loudly, “Hm, I wonder what I should do with our girl next? Hongjoong-hyung?” 

“Spread her legs open,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning back in his chair and looking on. “So we can see what her pussy looks like being abused by your dick.” 

Jongho laughed, then lifted your leg to rest on his shoulder. Fully spread apart, Hongjoong was given a clear view of your soaked, sore pussy being stretched once more. Mingi pulled the gray box towards him, and rifled around before finding the bullet vibrator. A baby blue toy the size of an egg was then pressed to you and Jongho met from behind you. Both of you felt the light vibrations that made Jongho more desperate for release. While you cried and pleaded, Wooyoung came to level with your head and pushed himself into your open mouth. You did your best to suck him, but Jongho’s dick pushing to your core once more with Mingi’s toy buzzing around your sex, it became difficult. 

“She can’t even suck my dick properly,” Wooyoung laughed, not upset or disappointed but amused. “Such a dumb little doll. Let me help you, baby.” 

He didn’t wait for you to answer as he started sliding himself in and out of your mouth. Diving deep into your throat, you sputtered as a moan tried escaping you but was blocked off. “She’s loving this,” Mingi smirked, “I think we should do this more often just for her. I know she’d love that.” 

“We don’t want to work her too hard though,” said Jongho, who pecked kisses along your leg and ankle. “It might hurt her a lot.” 

“Nah, it’s healthy for cock hungry sluts to be gangbanged once in a while,” said Hongjoong. “They need to be fucked into oblivion so they remember what they’re good for.” He held back a moan as he said, “She needs to remember she’s just our little cum dump from time to time.” 

Some members stifled laughter at his bold, cruel words but you only whined. Yes. Yes, that’s what you were: a toy for the members to release their frustration on. Companions do so much more for idols and idol groups, but sex is usually involved. You didn’t mind. You’d known this from the beginning; you lucked out having loving partners, since not all Idol Companions have such good experiences. You showed that side of you to them right now by submitting to their whims and pleasures. 

Mingi put the toy right underneath the nub, and with a few more pumps from Jongho, you clamed up again. Another orgasm came so quick and hard, not even Wooyoung’s member stifled it this time. All the members cheered you on, encouraging you to cum one more time or spread yourself further to let Jongho go deeper. Hazy and dizzy, you collapsed onto the floor. You might as well be a pool of jelly. Your holes ached, your jaw burned, and you thought you’d pass out any moment. But, you had more to do. You hadn’t gotten the thing you wanted the most. The boys put you back on the couch, letting you sink back into comfort as Wooyoung grabbed an anal plug Mingi handed to him. Both men prepared you for the small pink plug before sliding it inside. Being on your back, the toy would be pushed in and out of you as Wooyoung sucked up the juices smeared on your thighs and leaked from your entrance. His warm tongue soothed but also pinched your clit whenever he touched on it. 

“Wooyoung just fuck her already,” said San, joining in by flicking your clit with his tongue. “I’ll take care of this right here.” 

“But I like eating her when she’s been fucked a few times,” he replied, licking up your thighs. “She’s so sensitive and responsive afterwards. I love hearing her mewling and whimpering like this.” He quickly rolled his tongue around your clit so you made those exact noises. San hurriedly joined in and both men eagerly ate you out. “Do you like that, YN?” asked Wooyoung, sucking on your clit and forcing the plug deep in your ass. “Hm, do you?”

You let out a stream of incoherent sentences, and they laughed. “Silly baby,” San awed, pouting and kissing your clit, “So fucked out she can’t even form a sentence.” 

“Been fucked stupid,” Wooyoung smirked, “Exactly how I want her when I put my dick in her.” 

Tears spilled from your eyes as both men took advantage of your weakened state. Wooyoung sat up right, condom already rolled on, and sunk himself into your aching, throbbing, burning hole. You could hardly see straight, the room becoming blurry in your glazed tears, and your body became numb to everything except the pleasure Wooyoung and San provided. It didn’t take very long for Wooyoung’s soft panting to turn into high moans, eyes full of need and desire as your pussy pulled him into you. 

“Please cum, Wooyoungie,” you mumbled, reaching out to his chest and torso so he felt your hands on him. “I want you to cum all over me.” 

“Say that again,” he moaned hurriedly, picking up speed, “Say that again.” 

“I want you to cum all over me. Please, Wooyoung. Please?” 

“Yes, yes, baby. I…I…”

He withdrew right away, tearing the condom off, and you looked down to see his glistening cock twitching as he stroked it. Thick droplets of white fell onto your lower stomach before shooting up to your chest, where the musky scent and sticky heat started to cover you. You admired Wooyoung’s lithe, slim body; his tanned skin beaded with sweat and black strands sticking to his temples and forehead. His lean muscles constricted, and his soft lips parted in every groan. He finally stopped with a few more pumps before San took his place. Lifting your legs up, he slipped on his own condom,  and started fucking you right away. 

“You just lay there, baby,” he said, “Be a good toy and let me use your pussy.”

“Yes, Sannie. Use my pussy to cum, please,” you panted. 

“Do you want me to cum on you too or somewhere else?” he asked, bottoming up into you carefully. 

“On me. Please. All over me. I want it all over.” 

“Of course you do…” Hongjoong walked up beside you, crouching down to where your head laid and kissed your temple. “Any self-respecting slut loves being cummed on,” he leaned into your ear and traced light circles over your nipples. A faint, fresh scent came off his clothes and skin; he’d showered before the movie and it still clung to him. It added another layer of comfort and relaxation. “And being cummed in too,” he groaned in your ear before kissing it, “Just wait until it’s only you and me. I’m going to breed that pussy the way it’s meant to be. I’m going to breed you nice and hard and deep,” he gave your nipple a pinch, “And you’re going to take every drop and keep it in you.”

“Hongjoong, but…”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he assured you. “I only want to see how pretty you look with my cum dripping from your holes. You’re already so beautiful covered in cum.” 

“She always looks so-s-so good,” San huffed. 

Like Wooyoung, he pulled out right when he orgasmed. San tilted his head back, jerking quickly so thin streamers fell over your stomach and breasts. Hongjoong and you looked on together, watching San pump himself until he’d been completely spent. Mingi, the one who started this whole thing, went afterwards. He didn’t waste time with seductive words or praises. He pushed right into you, and didn’t stop until he was a sweaty, panting mess jerking over you. His streams mainly landed on your breasts, clearly where he’d hoped to aim. Hongjoong, wiping up a clear strip of cum, put it to your lips to taste it. 

“I wonder who will shoot into this slutty mouth,” Hongjoong said out loud, letting you suck more from his fingers. “They know how much you like to swallow their loads after they’ve fucked you.”

“Oh, I am,” Yeosang took his place beside you and pushed hair from your face. Hongjoong sat on the couch arm rest, still admiring your filthy, naked body like a work of art. “I want my sweet girl to drink every little drop I give her. Will you do that for me?” 

“Yes,” you said weakly. 

You stuck out your tongue as Yeosang rubbed his tip over it. You had no energy to properly suck or jerk him off, but you gave soft, kitten licks to the head until he started shaking in front of you. He called out in a loud cry like his orgasm imploded inside him. Streaks of cum flew into your mouth and on your cheek, but you quickly caught them by latching your mouth to the tip. Hongjoong kept your hair out of the way, and encouraged you to open up so Yeosang saw you’d swallowed all of it. 

“Good girl,” Yeosang rewarded you with a kiss, “Hongjoong better give you an extra special treat for behaving so well.”

“I will,” Hongjoong said fondly, as if doting on a child. 

Seonghwa stood a foot away, looking over your body as if he’d never seen anything as lovely before. “You know how much I love your mouth too,” he told you, already at the cusp of his orgasm, “Open it for me, baby. Just like that.” 

It didn’t take him much longer. What caught you off guard was Jongho, who’d taken Mingi’s place between your thighs. Both men came rather quickly, since they worked themselves up beforehand. Seonghwa slid himself in and out of your mouth while Jongho pounded you hard. Sucking Seonghwa off felt like eating a candy with a gooey center; it dribbled onto your tongue rather than outright shot into it. Seonghwa and Jongho both picked up their pace: Seonghwa’s cum leaked into your mouth even as his orgasm erupted through him; Jongho’s mainly trickled down over your pubic mound and the crevasses of your thighs. You swallowed the oozing cum, making sure Seonghwa saw you eagerly licking him clean before he withdrew. 

“Look at you,” Yunho smiled, taking Jongho’s place, “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen covered in a bunch of cum.”

“Isn’t she a pretty sight?”

“The prettiest.”

Yunho sunk deep into your leaking pussy, and gave into those primal urges inside. His nails dug into your hips, and his balls slammed into your ass as he used your body. The momentum caused the plug inside you to move around, and you almost came again from it. Hongjoong leaned down to your ear, and gave it a soft nibble. 

“Just one more, baby,” he said, “Then we’ll clean you up and I can breed you.”

The thought of being bred by Hongjoong excited you so much. Yunho’s cock pushed right into your center, and you started moaning. “I want you to, sir,” you whimpered into his ear. “I want you to breed me.” You’re not an idiot. You’re sleeping with several different men and you’re still young. You obviously take birth control, and they use protection to avoid pregnancies or diseases. But, the idea of Hongjoong’s bare cock pumping you full of his seed made you horny again. 

“Of course, you do,” he said. “You’re a fuck doll that loves being cummed in as much as possible. It only makes sense I empty my balls inside you the way a good owner would, right?” 

“Yes…”

“Fuck, hyung,” Yunho laughed in between moans, head back and pushing feverishly. “You’re terrible.”

“And she loves it.” 

Yunho soon removed his condom to spill his own seed like the others. It created a pool between your breasts and stomach, the thicker strands sliding down your sides and some remaining on your chest and chin. Yunho, his long, broad body hovering over you, only stopped when the last clear drop fell on your stomach. You took a glance around the room to see the others slumped on the couch; their bodies clearly worn out from giving the best thing they ever could. The only one fully alert was Hongjoong, who chuckled and kissed your forehead. Yunho pulled out of you, and so did the plug. He muttered something about cleaning up later, but you hardly heard him. 

Elation. Delight. Satisfaction. Only a few of the words to describe the feelings rolling inside you. A lopsided grin graced your face as you let your body melt into the couch where you laid. You wished to bask in the weightless after glow forever. It reminded you of the feeling after a long spa day, completely mellow. Hongjoong grabbed a wet towel he’d brought during his excursion for the toy box, and wiped most of the semen from your body. You loved his delicate, gentle touches; the care he always took when he looked after you. They all did aftercare in their own way, but it pretty much remained the same: baths or showers, snacks, water, and ice packs or lotions if needed. You heard about Companions who'd be left on the floor like garbage after rough sex. Your boys never did that to you. They loved you. Six years together proved as much to you. 

As the others started pulling on underwear or shorts, Yeosang brought you a water bottle that you gulped down in a few swallows. It’d do nothing for the taste left in your mouth, but it hydrated you. He mentioned something about tea for your throat, and kissed your forehead. Each man gave you a cheek or forehead kiss before leaving the room; Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the ones who brought you to the bathtub Seonghwa prepared for you. Hongjoong sat beside it as you slunk into the warm water. You deeply inhaled the lavender scented wafting from the bubbles, resting back on the bath pillow Yunho bought you. Hongjoong dipped a soft washcloth into the soapy water to wipe your face and neck, occasionally kissing you. Every muscle in your body turned into putty, barely having energy to remain up without Hongjoong’s help and effort on your part. Your center stung from being penetrated in so many ways, and your clit felt sore from the constant action. You’ll certainly need to go to the agency clinic now. But not yet. There was one member who hadn’t taken you, and he is the one you wanted the most. You noticed the erection still in Hongjoong’s pants, and you knew it’d be balls deep in you soon enough. 

“How do you do it?” you asked him quietly, looking up at him from your head rest. 

“‘Do’ what, baby?”

“Hold back like that,” you explained. “You’ll have a raging hardon, but don't do anything about it right away.”

“Practice,” he smiled, running the cloth between your thighs. Not in a sensual way, but to simply clean anything the water didn’t remove naturally. You winced at the soft cloth on your pussy, so Hongjoong went more carefully as he went further down. “I used to edge myself a lot when I was younger. I liked the feeling of holding back as much as I could before finally cumming. It makes that final orgasm so much better. Not to mention,” he casted a side eye glance at you, “There are certain people whose pleasure I care about more than mine. You know, people who mean so much to me and who I enjoy pleasuring first?”

“Seonghwa?” you said, a teasing smile on your face. 

“You, dummy,” he flicked some water at you and you both laughed. He peppered a few kisses on your lips, then said, “That doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to fuck you right here in this bathtub right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” you asked, hand reaching from the water to touch his knee. “I can take it. I promise.”

He smiled, taking your hand to wipe his cloth down your arm, “I know you can, but I know you’re tired too. I can wait, baby.” 

Hongjoong kissed the inner part of your wrist, then continued washing you. Hongjoong held you close as he dried you off in his lap, not caring if you wet his clothes, and brought you into your bedroom. After helping you into bed, Hongjoong undressed completely, exposing his body to you one piece at a time until he stood naked. Keeping on the lamp beside your bed, he slipped underneath the sheets with you and locked his lips with yours. You wrapped yourself around him and he slid his arms underneath your shoulders. Hongjoong let his hard shaft slide over your clit a few times, using his own precum to slicken your folds. When you flinched, he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said between kisses on your neck, “Do you still want me to do this? I can just rub it out myself if you’re too stimulated. I don’t want you to go through any pain for me.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted you to do it.” 

You reached into your bed side table where he’d left his flesh light the last time you slept together. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, pulling out a lube bottle from the opposite drawer and handing it to you. Sitting up despite your tiredness, you squirted a bit of lubricant onto his cock and coated it liberally. This motion alone had Hongjoong groaning and clutching your bed sheets. You really did love looking at his cock. The size and girth fit just right, never splitting or going too deep inside. You ran your fingers underneath the head, giggling when it twitched. Laying halfway on top of him, your thighs straddling one of his, you carefully sunk the fleshlight onto his cock. The groan of relief Hongjoong gave was enough to regenerate your arousal. His face scrunched up from pleasure, the pleasure he’d been withholding for a long time, was put permanently into your memory. When you looked down, you saw his dick filling the clear, silicone toy.  

“I love your cock so much,” you said in his ear, “I get wet thinking about the things you can do to me with it.” You slowly started grinding into his thigh, humping him in lazy motions while dragging the fleshlight up and down. “I kept thinking you’d fuck me in front of the others, so you can show them that I’m yours. Show them that my body is yours,” you kissed his jawline, “That my pussy is yours.”

He laughed. The same laugh he’d do before his verses in songs. A mischievous, mocking laugh almost, imprinted on the lustful moans he released. “I don’t have to fuck you in front of them for them to know that,” he said, pulling you close and grabbing one of your breasts. “They already know whenever they hear you cumming for me.” 

He slipped his other hand over your ass, giving a squeeze before feeling underneath it. The soft squelching sounds of the toy mixed with both your moans as you kissed. Hongjoong squeezed and fondled any part of you his hands could reach while you humped his leg gingerly. When you both became heated enough, Hongjoong pulled off the toy and rolled you onto your back. You prepared yourself for him to enter you by clutching the pillow under your head. Seeing you surrender yourself over to him, Hongjoong kissed you deeply while entering slowly inside you inch by inch. All the need and desire from the orgy came back, and soon Hongjoong’s growls and grunts filled your mouth. It didn’t take long for your lover to be quaking on top of you. A bit of thumb circles on your clit had you crying out his name again. Your hands slipped into his black hair as he kissed and bit down your neck, and across your collarbone; your hips pushed down into his simply to have more of him. You needed all of him. He sensed this from kissing you alone and bottomed up into you until you quivered in his arms. 

“That’s it,” he hissed, “Go ahead and cum just one more time. I want to hear it; go on.” 

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you can, sweetie. Do it for me.”

The final orgasm came a bit fainter, but it still controlled you as it’d done the times before. You lost all sense as Hongjoong started going faster, causing your bed to hit the wall in light smacks. By the sloppy movements, and feral grunts, you knew he was close to finishing soon. 

“Cum inside me,” you said in a small, quiet voice. It was that innocent voice he loved hearing you do when he dominated you. “Please, Joongie. Cum in my pussy, please.”

“I will, baby. I…I will…fuck…”

Spreading your legs far out, Hongjoong lifted your lower half as he emptied himself inside you. In a series of long, drawn out groans, Hongjoong kept himself deep inside you as he came. You could feel his dick twitch against your walls, and coating them with his semen. The strokes he did were short and hurried so he could keep every drop deep inside you. You liked the feeling, you realized. Your hands dragged down his shoulders to his arms where you grabbed his forearms for support. Making Hongjoong cum this way, this hard, fed your pride well. He didn’t pull out right away when he finished either; he rarely ever did. You both laid on your sides, your leg over his hips to keep him inside you a bit longer. That final feeling of relaxation clouded over you instantly, and you finally gave into it. 

“Just go to sleep,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose and nuzzling it. “I’ll get the lights and clean you up.” He then chuckled, “That is, if Wooyoung doesn’t beat me to it.” 

“Huh?”

Hongjoong grabbed one of the squishmallows from the head board and tossed it at the door. You gasped at the sight of Wooyoung with his phone held up, who cackled and put the phone down. You laughed with him as embarrassment flushed your cheeks, and you buried your head in Hongjoong’s shoulder. 

“Out!”

“I just came to get my charger,” Wooyoung laughed in his defense, “I gave it to YN-”

“-Use someone else’s charger!” he scolded, breaking from you to launch another stuffed animal. 

Wooyoung continued laughing, wishing you goodnight and closing the door. You both heard his laughter as he walked down the hall, and you cuddled back to Hongjoong. 

“How many videos does that make?” you asked in a joke. “A dozen?”

“More like a hundred,” Hongjoong replied, bringing you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “He takes photos of you too when you’re not looking. I remember catching him filming you showering a few years ago; when you first moved into the dorm instead of living in the company residency.” He rubbed your back soothingly, and kissed you again. “I’ll get him to delete them, if it bothers you.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said, shutting your eyes and basking in his warmth. You felt a prominent stickiness between your thighs, and knew it’d bother the hell out of you. But, you felt too tired to really do anything about it. “You have videos of me too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he grinned, flashing you his cheeky smile before kissing you once more. “Let me clean you up, then I’ll shut off the lights. Seonghwa will make you some tea for your throat.”

“Okay,” you yawned, stretching your sore body and drifting to sleep. 

The last thing you remember is Hongjoong reaching for an ice pack you keep in a miniature fridge near the bed, feeling content and gratified. A part of you hoped they did it again, even if it did make you insanely exhausted and left you aching. You guessed you’d have to go to your appointment soon. ‘Bodily trauma’. Who would’ve guessed that? 

[celtic-crossbow]

I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win. 

Daryl was not so easily mollified. 

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye. 

You weren’t afraid of him. 

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark  was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you. 

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said. 

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger. 

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes. 

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about. 

Still, you stayed. 

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now. 

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced. 

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you. 

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?” 

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue. 

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot. 

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow. 

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his. 

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll. 

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family. 

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor. 

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety. 

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you. 

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile. 

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?” 

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned. 

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring. 

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse. 

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away. 

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose. 

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides. 

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance. 

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you. 

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.” 

“Why the fuck do you even care?!” 

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing. 

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door. 

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you. 

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside. 

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded. 

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder. 

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle. 

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt. 

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you. 

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.” 

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair. 

“Ya do?” 

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment? 

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail. 

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile. 

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy. 

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door. 

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you. 

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder. 

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement. 

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot. 

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently. 

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf. 

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper. 

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly. 

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back. 

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite. 

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter. 

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.” 

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front. 

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later. 

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat. 

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear. 

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands. 

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!” 

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat. 

“Shit!” 

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen. 

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. 

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark. 

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt. 

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder. 

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it. 

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion. 

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.” 

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone. 

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.” 

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!” 

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg? 

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up. 

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.” 

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again. 

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long.  Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep. 

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse. 

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave. 

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered. 

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail. 

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?” 

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?” 

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.” 

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away. 

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him. 

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance. 

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was. 

A confession. 

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this. 

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap. 

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other. 

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you. 

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?” 

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.” 

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it. 

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already. 

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away. 

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair. 

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

[20-th-centurygirl]

eyebrows

mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, sexual jokes but no actual smut

a/n: This is my first fic so please nice 🫶🏻 if you want more fics then lmk 😚

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣

"can I pluck your eyebrows?"

"Huh?" Mason tore his gaze away from the random football match he'd put on to look at you, an amused grin appearing on his face.

"They're annoying me. Just let me tidy them up a bit" you said. Truthfully you'd spent most of your evening watching him, as much as you enjoyed watching football, having it on all night wasn't your ideal night. Unlike your boyfriend, you didn't live and breathe the sport.

"No"

You frowned at his nonchalant response. "What do you mean no? I'm gonna make you look nice"

"You mean I don't always look nice?" He cocked one eyebrow up, smirking slightly while reminiscing about the fact that not even an hour ago you were giving him compliments galore about his looks. "No that's not what I mean. You're always beautiful, but they're a abit, I don't know, bushy? Pleaseeee" you pouted and gave him your best puppy dog eyes, knowing full well that he couldn't resist them. "Fine. But if they look bad I'll break up with you"

"Sure you will mount. Who's gonna do your laundry if you do that?" You teased as you crawled off the ridiculously big sofa and running up the stairs as quickly as you could to get what you needed.

-----------------------‐-----------‐--------------------------

"Right sit up straight please" you said as you made your way over to his lap, straddling him. You shuffled, trying to get comfortable but his hands quickly had an iron grip on your waist. "Stop moving baby" He whispered lowly in your ear. You couldn't hide your amusement, the fact that he could get so turned on so quickly by the smallest thing always boosting your confidence and making you laugh at the same time. "What do you mean love?" You teased back, moving again. "If you make my eyebrows look nice then I'll show you what I mean" He had that cheeky grin on his face that you adored.

"Close your eyes please"

"Why?"

"Cause I don't want you looking at my face that close, might want to break up with me then" you chuckled. "I would never want to do that" He whispered as his eyes fluttered shut, and you couldn't resist placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

You brushed his eyebrows gently before plucking between the middle of his eyebrows. "Ow!"

"Oh mase come on, that part doesn't even hurt" you tried not to laugh, but his reaction was hilarious to you. "Yes it does" He grumbled, pretending to be annoyed at your mocking but you knew from the faint smile on his lips and the tone of his voice that he was joking. You continued tidying up the middle, but not without more flinching and whining from mason about how much it hurt and you laughing at him.

You pressed a kiss the the reddened skin "right, I'm gonna do underneath your eyebrows now so this might hurt abit, okay?" The moment you pulled a hair from under his brow Mason's eyes shot open. "Fucking hell that hurt! What are you doing to me woman?". You both burst out laughing as he hesitantly closed his eyes, clearly anxious about the pain he thought he was going to have to endure.

"Do you want me to stop babe? I can if you want, you don't really need the underneath doing" you said softly, deep down you'd become slightly restless and couldn't get your mind off what he'd promised to do when you were finished. "Yes please" He said sheepishly, a slight red tint apparent on his cheeks. "Don't know how you do this to yourself and don't flinch" he said as you got off his lap and grabbed your phone to show him how he looked in your camera. "Just takes some getting used to love, wanna see how they look?"

You couldn't help but laugh as he checked himself out in your phone camera. " They look good, thanks baby" He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips and he pulled you back down to his lap. You deepened the kiss, before he pulled away to catch his breath. "now, you gonna give me my reward for making you look good?" You teased, rolling your hips as you smirked against his mouth before connecting your lips again. "wanna go upstairs?" He muttered against your lips. "nope, I'm quite happy here". He laughed gently, moving his hands up to caress your back underneath your his t-shirt as you leant in to kiss him again.

First ever fic!!! Please tell me if it was good and if you have any advice feel free to give it me 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[rabbitsrams]

poly! tedschlatt when you're on your period headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

sfw:

♡ both of them running to the pharmacy to get you tons of snacks and arguing about what to get you

♡ ending up buying way more than you'll need

♡ ted giving you a heating pad/water bottle and literally holding it on you

♡ schlatt ofc makes sure the cats are close by so you can cuddle/play with them as you rest

♡ "i need painkillers!"

♡ "i got it!" said at the same time.

♡ ted is just so sweet, always checking in on you

♡ he gives you massages if you need them

♡ schlatt giving you his sweatshirts to wear and tons of blankets and plushies to cuddle with while he and ted are working

♡ and when they're ready to cuddle? best believe y'all are not leaving your bed

♡ brings you meals and snacks so you don't have to get up

♡ you end up watching a ton of movies/catching up on a show together

♡ and you crying whenever something sappy/sad/etc happens

♡ schlatt resisting the urge to cry so you don't cry further but ted just SOBS and that has you sobbing more and he just cries more all of u are crying so much akdjskf

♡ if you're running out of period products and you need some more they buy. everything.

♡ (which one of them is "what size pussy do you wear" coded sound off in the comments)

♡ they're constantly doting on you which makes you even more emotional than usual

♡ if you get emotional over anything they're hugging and kissing you, telling you everything's okay ugh i need them ):

nsfw:

♡ apparently sex during your period can help reduce cramps so...

♡ you're constantly worried about the mess and if they'd be grossed out but they don't care, in fact they love it :)

♡ laying out a couple of towels on the bed or couch so you know what's about to go down

♡ plus your hormones make u like 10 times hornier so :)

♡ "we're gonna fuck the cramps out of ya."

♡ "ted, come on man."

♡ "no, by all means, please do."

♡ schlatt massaging your tits when they're sore to help relieve pain and totally not bc they're bigger and squishier

♡ ted mindlessly reaching into your shorts to touch you, not even caring if he gets blood all over his fingers

♡ them simultaneously touching you gets you so worked up that you come pretty quickly

♡ feeling utterly relieved when your cramps go away without needing to take a pill

♡ oral when you're on your period from your boyfriends... oh my god

♡ why does the sight of blood all over their mouths turn you on so much???

♡ so many stained towels are thrown into the laundry during that week 😉

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 7: Mechanical Intervention (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Engie keeps going to bed late in the night and decided to make sure you don’t feel neglected.

Tags: Overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Gunslinger, vibrators

Word Count: 2.7k

The Masterlist

The oversized shirt you wore to bed was far more important to you than most would think. Having once belonged to Dell, you had ‘borrowed’ it from his half of the dresser one night when you happened to forget to do your laundry. Now it was an item of comfort for you. It made you feel like he was here with you, even though the two of you had been apart for so long.

You rolled your eyes, realizing for a moment how melodramatic you were being. It wasn’t like Engie had gone off to war. In fact, he was literally under the same roof as you, just a few rooms away in his workshop. However he had been holed up in there for so many nights now, working tirelessly on his sentries and dispensers, writing calculation after calculation, all of which you had no hope of understanding. To put it frankly, you missed him.

With a sigh, you opened the door of your shared room, glancing down the hall towards the workshop. You could see the light shining from under the crack in the door, indicating that he was still hard at work. You began to walk towards that light, unsure of what your goal was exactly. It wasn’t likely, but maybe you could convince him to turn in early for once. At the very least, it would be nice to pay him a visit.

You opened the door to the workshop slowly, finding Engie sitting in a chair, hunched over some blueprints with a half disassembled sentry at his side. It was a position you had found him in many times before. It was a wonder how his back wasn’t in constant pain. You walked up behind him, not realizing how quiet you had been until you wrapped your arms around Engie’s shoulders, only for him to jump before realizing that it was just you.

“Good lord, darlin,’ don’t sneak up on me like that!” he said, holding a hand to his chest. Engie was always weary about being approached from behind, especially with how often he was the victim of spies on the battlefield. That fact had apparently slipped your mind.

“Sorry,” you sighed, nestling your face against his shoulder. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“What’s wrong?” Engie asked, noticing the twinge of sadness in your voice. “Aren’t you usually in bed by now?”

You held onto him tighter, biting your lip. Eventually, you decided not to hesitate and simply come out with it. “Come back to bed.” You could tell by the sigh you got in response that you weren’t going to get the answer you were hoping for.

“I’m sorry darlin.’ You know I have to get my work done first.”

You walked around to face Engie, giving the best damn puppy dog eyes you could muster. You weren’t too proud to beg. “Please, Dell?”

His eyes lit up at the use of his real name, softening as he reached out and pulled you close. “Oh honey, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” he asked. You nodded, letting yourself be pulled into Engie’s lap. “You sweet thing.”

He leaned in to kiss you. You eagerly reciprocated, desperate for the sensation of his lips against yours. It was more than the two of you had shared in at least a week, and you were practically starved for it. You tugged incessantly at his shirt, a silent plea for more. When you parted for breath you pressed your face into his shoulder again, muffling a needy whine.

“Now, I might not be able to come back to bed just yet, but I know the perfect way to make it up to you,” Engie said, pulling at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. You quickly stood and removed them yourself, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a loose fitting shirt. Before you could take off anything else you were pulled back into Engie’s lap. “You look cute like that, you know?” he said. “In nothing but my shirt and your panties, just lovely.”

You blushed, but gave him a confused look. “Well, the shirt can stay, but doesn’t the underwear kinda have to come off eventually?”

“Not necessarily,” Engie said with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. His gloved hand ran up your thigh, and you let out a soft sigh. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady and secure on his lap. Your body was already beginning to heat up as he reached your hip, caressing you gently and making you whimper. Usually such a small gesture wouldn’t get a reaction out of you, but it had been so long.

It felt like an eternity before he finally moved to run his fingers over your clothed slit. “Oh fuck,” you murmured as the fabric slowly began to dampen. You leaned your head on Engie’s shoulder, eyes rolling.

“That’s it, just relax and enjoy yourself,” Engie whispered into your ear, placing soft kisses on your jawline and trailing down to your neck. You moaned softly, unable to resist the urge to roll your hips as his fingers found your clit. How were you already so close? You must have been really pent up. “Are you close already, sweetheart?” Engie asked, seeing how you were squirming in his lap.

“I think so,” you stammered, gripping Engie’s shirt as you tried to hold back. “Fuck, it just feels so good.”

“You poor, sweet thing,” he crooned. “Laying all by your lonesome for so long. I’ll bet you haven’t even touched yourself in the past week.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of the time you just went to sleep, hoping you would get some attention the next day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the desire or the means to get yourself off, you just wanted to let your need build. You knew that the more it built the more rewarding it would be when Engie finally made time for you, and in a way, you were now getting exactly what you had been craving.

“How about you just go on and come for me?” he said, smirking as he circled your clit with his fingers. “I know you want to, and I wanna see it. I don’t want you to hold back.”

The idea that Engie was eager to see you come coupled with the pressure of his fingers was enough to push you over the edge. You called out his name in broken syllables, gripping onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Ah ah, keep those pretty eyes open,” he said. You hadn't even realized you had been squeezing your eyes shut until he pointed it out. “I want you to look at me, honey.” You groaned, opening your eyes with some struggle. The look of admiration on Engie’s face immediately made the effort worth it.

You were breathless, panting as he held you in his arms. Your face was flushed down to your neck and the fabric of your underwear was slick with your release. You looked like a proper wreck, yet you couldn’t be happier, especially since Engie hadn’t stopped showering you with kisses since you came down from your high.

“So pretty,” he sighed. “I want to see more. You can come again for me, right sweetheart?”

Oh, you liked the sound of that. You gave him a nod and a breathless, “I think so.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, pressing your lips to his in a surprisingly chaste kiss. “Just be gentle. I’m still sensitive.”

“Of course. Here, let’s get these out of the way.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. You spread your legs wider, watching as Engie removed his glove, revealing his prosthetic hand.

The Gunslinger had always fascinated you. In fact your inquiries about that marvel of craftsmanship was what had initially drawn you and Engie together. The metal glinted in the yellow glow of the workshop’s lights, highlighting every miniscule detail.

When those mechanical fingers ran over your thigh, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they weren’t cold at all. You had no idea how, but despite being made of metal, the Gunslinger always seemed to match an average human’s body temperature. Sometimes it could even be a bit warmer, which was quite comforting if you wanted some extra heat on an especially cold night. You whimpered as his fingers dipped between your thighs, slowly pressing into you.

Engie watched your face, checking for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that it was too much. When he saw none he continued, sliding his fingers into you to the last knuckle. That earned some louder sounds from you, especially when he began thrusting his digits in and out. You were lucky that no one but Engie came to this part of the base during this time of night. Anyone who overheard you would have immediately known exactly what was going on within the workshop.

“I love those noises of yours. I wonder how loud you can get?” he mused, watching your expression melt into one of ecstasy. Then those fingers curled inside you, striking that sensitive bundle of nerves that was guaranteed to have you moaning. And you most certainly did moan, bucking against his fingers with a harsh cry. However your sounds only reached their peak when Engie paired the curling of his fingers with the stroking of his thumb over your clit.

Your thighs shook as you came again, arching back as your fingers dug into Engie’s leg. You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for his free arm being wrapped firmly around you, keeping you seated safely on his lap. “God damn, that was intense,” Engie chuckled. “I must be doing a good job!”

“Don’t tease me,” you gasped, still trying to catch your breath as your orgasm subsided.

“I would never, darlin.’ But I can’t deny that you're boosting my ego a bit, and I appreciate that.” He waited for you to come down fully, your breathing evening out and your trembling beginning to subside before he continued. “Now, there was one more thing I wanted to show you, if you’re up for it. You see that button at the base of the Gunslinger?” You nodded, following his gaze and immediately spotting the red button where metal met flesh. You were pretty sure it had always been there. It never even occurred to you to ask what its purpose was. “How about you go ahead and press it,” he suggested.

That was all the temptation you needed. Nervously, you reached out and pressed the button, only to let out a startled gasp when the metal appendage started vibrating. “Holy shit,” was all you managed to say in response, making Engie laugh.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected,” he said. “I’ve been working on this in my free time. It was originally gonna be a Valentine's Day gift, but I just couldn’t wait to show it off.”

You were both impressed and baffled. “Are you telling me this is what you’ve been doing in this workshop these past several nights?”

“Not entirely,” Engie said. “Like I said, it was just a pet project.”

You sighed, knowing that you were still recovering from your second orgasm. A third would be a difficult feat, but you couldn’t deny your own curiosity. Where else would you find a man who would literally program his own hand for your pleasure? Plus, you liked the idea of a challenge. “Well, how about we take this little innovation for a test drive?” you asked, giving Engie a seductive look.

He mirrored your expression. “I was hoping you would say that, sweetheart.”

Engie took everything much slower this time, only circling around your clit. Any direct stimulation would surely overwhelm you, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. Still, you immediately started trembling, not at all prepared for the intensity of the vibrations. That’s not to say it didn’t feel quite nice though. You bit your lip, stifling any moans that tried to escape.

“Don’t start holding back on me now, honey,” Engie said the moment he noticed you were trying to keep quiet. “I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He began kissing your neck, rubbing firmer circles until your muffled whimpers turned into full on moans once again.

His fingers slipped into you, offering a whole new range of intensity as they curled and thrust against your most sensitive spots. You rocked shamelessly against his palm, forcing his fingers deeper. It was exhausting yet so immensely pleasurable. You bucked and he worked his fingers, both of you ever so gradually working towards a third orgasm.

When you finally did come it happened rather suddenly, starting as a small building of pleasure that quickly escalated until your thighs were quivering and your back was arching. The sound you made when you climaxed was more akin to a sob than a moan.

“Good girl. There’s even more where that came from,” Engie said, not even pulling his fingers out. The implication was clear.

“Dell, I don’t know if I can,” you whimpered.

“Just one more time for me, darlin’,” Engie said between soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “I know you can do it.” His words and his touch were paradoxically comforting and overwhelming. Still, you were effectively tempted to try, signaling your willingness with a shaky nod. Even so, you couldn’t stifle your rather harsh reaction to the feeling of the vibrations becoming stronger.

“Dell! Oh fuck!” Your body sizzled, every sensation feeling like electricity on your skin. If your mind had been clearer you would have been astounded at the effort it must have taken to add not only a vibration function to the Gunslinger, but also multiple settings for said vibrations. However your mind was anything but clear. Engie may have been speaking to you, perhaps crooning words of praise, talking about how much he enjoyed your sensitive body, or how helplessly adorable you looked when you squirmed in his lap. Whatever it was, it all faded into the background as your other senses began to take over.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming, almost unbearable. It was a constant barrage of touches, moans, and trembling bodies. There was barely any buildup to the fourth and final orgasm, only an unwavering sensation and a sudden, shaking, screaming climax that seemed to hit you out of nowhere, leaving your body as an over sensitive wreck, squirming and reaching for anything to ground yourself.

That thing you were reaching for ended up being Engie himself. You clutched onto him for dear life even long after the aftershocks had faded, still shaking, face red and hot from a few tears that managed to escape. “I’ve got you, darlin,’” Engie whispered, keeping you steady even as your body trembled beneath his touch. The last thing he wanted was you falling off his lap. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, your body stopped shivering and your death grip on Engie’s shoulders finally loosened, leaving you to go limp in his arms. Your tears dried and your heart rate dropped, the rush of adrenaline fading until all you were left with was blissful relaxation.

“I’m guessing that you’re more than satisfied now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Engie asked, allowing himself a smug look once he was sure you had recovered enough. “Did I manage to make up for all the nights that I missed?”

You let out a weak laugh. “God, you definitely did. I just hope you don't expect me to go back to bed. There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk back to our room after that.”

Engie chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Of course not, honey. Just relax here.” His hand rubbed up and down your back, a soothing and welcome sensation to your still quite sensitive body. “Just close your eyes. If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to bed, alright?”

“And you’ll stay, right?” you asked, looking up at him hopefully. He gave you a soft smile, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course darlin.’ I’ll stay.”

[starlitangels]

That’s Mine

Another Guy/Honey ficlet for the girl who can’t seem to write a full fic for these two to save her life

—

I glanced up from my laptop upon hearing the apartment door open. “I’m home!” Guy called at the same time I heard the thumping of him literally kicking his shoes off at the door.

“Welcome back,” I said flatly, going back to my report.

I could hear him groan with the several popping noises that came with him cracking his back. “I’m gonna shower,” he announced as the front door shut.

“Careful. Kayla left a makeup bomb in the bathroom,” I warned.

“How does she even do that? Like we should not be finding powdered foundation in the bathtub of all places. A little falling off the palette or brush into the sink is one thing but like the bathtub?” He appeared in the doorway of my room and leaned against the frame on one shoulder. “I don’t get it. I’ve worn some makeup in my day but I’ve never been that messy with it.”

I grunted and shrugged.

Guy sighed dramatically. “Not in the mood to talk, honey?”

I shot him a withering glare. “Go get in the shower before I punt your ass into the bathroom and bar the door. I’m trying to work.”

He smirked lasciviously. “If you bar a door that locks from the inside and swings inward, you’d have to be in the bathroom with me.”

I raised a brow. “I’d figure it out. Go away.”

He winked with a click of his cheek and pushed off the doorframe, vanishing down the hall.

I went back to my paper.

Apparently I got really sucked into it because I didn’t even process that I heard the shower start and stop a few minutes later. Hell, I barely even processed Guy singing showtunes while he was in it.

I vaguely heard the bathroom door creak open on that ungodly loud hinge I still needed to oil (the landlords had promised to do it months ago and never had and I was getting sick of it), while Guy continued his one-man-show of Phantom of the Opera. But I ignored all of it. Guy’s singing was a constant in the apartment and I’d just learned to tune it out.

When the essay was done, I submitted it and finally stood up, wincing as my knees popped.

With a heavy sigh, I left my room.

Guy spun around in the kitchen almost instantly. In his favorite hot pink “Kiss the Cook” apron that had been a gag gift from his siblings that he’d actually loved. “There’s my favorite person!”

I grunted. Then froze. “Hang on a second here,” I said, folding my arms. “Hm. Black T-shirt way too long and wide in the arms, logo for a band you don’t listen to poking out from under the top of the apron. Coincidentally matching the one that went missing from my things after a load of laundry a few weeks ago…” As I spoke, I undid the neck loop of the apron and let the top fall away from his torso.

He chuckled nervously, ears and neck turning blotchy and red. “Heh-heh… uh…”

“Guy Erikson, that’s my shirt,” I snapped.

“Whaaat? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Obviously this is mine. See how it just fits me perfectly—ow, ow! Okay okay you don’t have to pinch I get it I get it—damn!” He pouted as I let go of his shoulder. “Can’t I just borrow it for the rest of tonight though? It’s so soft. It’s not my fault that you have the comfiest shirts on the planet!”

“Give it back. Now.”

He sighed dramatically and stripped it off, hurling it at me with all the grace and power of a newly-hatched bird. “Fiiine. You loveless, joyless buzzkill.”

“Thieving parasite,” I retorted, taking the shirt back to my room and chucking it into my hamper.

“Just for that, I’m not including you in my dinner plans.” He whipped the apron back up over his torso and started fixing the neck loop.

“I never asked you to. And I’m going out tonight anyway.”

His head snapped up to look at me. “What?! With who?”

I raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

Guy spluttered. “Oh. Well. I, uh—no, obviously. It’s just—you know what? Never mind.” He turned back to the stove and went back to preparing his pasta.

I snorted. “It’s my stupid reading group for my upper level class. There’s gonna be like five people there. It’s not a date. Don’t wait up for me, honey,” I said sarcastically before ducking back into my bedroom and slamming the door.

I picked the band shirt out of the hamper and held it up to my nose. Curious.

It definitely smelled like Guy.

A small grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. I folded the shirt and set it on my desk. “You know what? I’ll wash it later,” I muttered to myself.

—

Tag list: @pinksparkl @darlin-collins

[raccoonspooky]

Cursed Domestic Bo Sinclair Headcanons: (Slight NSFW, nothing explicit)

He’s really into ham and cheese sandwiches. Which is fine, but he likes an ungodly amount of mayo. It gushes out the side of the damned bread, it gets on his fingers, and watching him eat his lunch is somehow more horrifying than anything else you’ve so far seen in Ambrose. If you dare to question his sandwich habits, he will be completely offended and will also berate you over your apparent desire for dry sandwiches. 

Come to think of it, you’re not sure when was the last time you saw him eat a vegetable? The thought is disturbing as it is worrying. You want to cook him something but you’re also afraid of his picky eating habits. 

One day he’s mid-rant about some bullshit that’s got his panties in a twist and he pauses to open the fridge, grab a jar of pickles, unscrew that shit and take a fucking swig of the juice. He leaves it open on the counter and you seriously consider just how strong your stockholm syndrome is. Maybe if you ran right now you’d get a good ten feet of distance before he caught you?

More stupid under the cut!

Laundry day is entirely too infrequent considering the nasty shit he gets up to. Until you were brave enough to start doing some chores around the house, you once noted that Bo wore the same pair of jeans for two weeks straight. When he took them off they pretty much held their shape as if he was still wearing them. You felt a part of your soul die when realizing that you definitely had been straddling his lap a few days ago, grinding down on him while he was wearing those god-awful nasty ass pants.

You’re sort of mad about having to do his laundry, because all of a sudden you’re doing Vincent’s laundry as well, and it's like you’ve strongarmed your way into being the Sinclairs' goddamned maid because you couldn’t stand the idea of Bo’s filthy clothing stinking up the fucking house. 

You fear the day that Lester starts bringing his laundry to the house as well. 

Maybe running away and taking your chances doesn’t sound that bad. 

Sleeping next to him has its ups and downs. Sometimes he’s a clingy cuddler, and you remember all the reasons you’re so attached to him. He makes you feel special, you love the quiet moments when he lets the whole tough guy act down. Sometimes the way he touches you feels performative, like he’s rough and he’s making a point to go out of his way to behave like jerk because he wants to remind you of your place. He can't showboat in his sleep and the way he holds you when his brain’s turned off always feels more genuine. 

For every night that you’re given the grace of comfort, there’s a frustrating sequence of incoming nights where he’ll roll over, facing away from you while taking up ninety percent of the bed. He takes whatever blankets there are and if you’re lucky you’ll get a flat, horrible pillow with a yellowed pillowcase. It’s gross but it smells like him.

You might have to pilfer a blanket from somewhere else, but he grumbles in his sleep if you move too much.

Whatever god-awful instinct he has to keep you doesn’t turn off in his sleep. If he’s having an anti-cuddle night, he’ll grab your wrist or grab you by the hair if he’s really feeling like a jerk just to keep you from moving around. You’d find the clinginess cute if not for the fact that you feel like you’re going to fall off the bed and the measly half-inch thick slab of fabric at your head barely holds any recollection of the fact that its supposed to be a pillow.

You’ve learned not to bother him when he seems averse to touch. Sometimes you watch him sleep in the early mornings and there’s always a definitive moment where the peace on his face turns hard and it's like he puts on this mask of whatever shitty attitude he feels like wearing for the day.

If you’re lucky he’ll let you kiss him when he’s a little more awake. He’ll be soft with you for approximately ten minutes because god forbid he let you get the dumbass notion that he might love you. No. He’s going to kiss you until your breathless and then he’s going to insinuate you should really do something about his morning wood and it ain't nice to get him all worked up if you’re not planning to do something about it

It’s like he has some kind of supernatural sense of knowing when it comes to your happiness and he has to up his asshole meter to keep you from getting your head too lost in the clouds. It’s like once you’re just about feeling all stupid and full of daisies and butterflies then the hairs at the back of his neck start feeling funny and then he’ll have to behave like a jerk for a few days just to keep your infatuation with him at a low simmer. 

He’s got one of those classic oil-can banjos in the house. It’s a downright statement piece when it comes to his whole hick vibe going on. You’re not sure where it came from. You’re not sure if he gets the irony in the fact that he owns that fucking thing.

Can he play it though? No. Does he plunk away at it at random intervals with some kind of annoying mockery of a song? Yes. All the time. He likes having something to do with his hands. He’ll pull at strings, playing the same notes over and over. If you know some basic fingerpicking or chords he might be enthused with your know-how but he’s not interested in letting you teach him.

There's a guitar in the house. Its neck is a little fucked, but you wonder if you can fix it up for him? Maybe he’s better with it than the damned banjo. 

Once, you found a bunch of old board games in the house. Somehow Bo made shoots and fucking ladders a miserable experience and you weren’t even sure how he managed to cheat but you’ll swear on your life that he goddamned did. It was a struggle and a half to even get him to entertain the idea of playing a board game with you and then he had to go ahead and ruin it.

It’s entirely easy to convince Lester to play a game with you. You play stupid board games in secret because not only is Bo a sore loser, but he’s sort of shit at remembering the rules for more complicated games. He’s no fun to play with. 

Monopoly is now banned entirely from the house.

They have an ancient NES system, likely pilfered from a victim’s car. Maybe some college kid who never made it to their dorm. Bo’s oddly good at duck hunt and he makes you watch him play. You’re almost jealous of the damned game because he’s never looked at you with genuinely excited joy. His juvenile happiness is cute though, but sometimes you worry about him punching the damned tv with his post-game euphoria found in murdering pixelated ducks.

I  could go on but I need to forcibly shut myself up.

I dedicate this nonsense to @ventiswampwater because she mentioned the pickle thing the other day and literally I cannot stop laughing about it. It paints such a fucking picture.

[viktheviking1]

Blitz gets ready for a date

"You look fine!" Loona shouted. Blitz was scampering from one room to the next, tossing rejected clothes to the side. Loona followed close behind him, catching most of the discarded garments. The pile in her arms was growing at an alarming rate.

"Fine isn't good enough!" Blitz hopped towards the bathroom as he tried to put some skinny jeans on, "Do you know the last time I went on a real date? Not a set up date, a real date."

Loona rolled her eyes, "Like two weeks ago?"

"Wrong!" Blitz started shoveling his way through the cabinet under the sink, shoving Loona's large makeup stash to the side, trying to gain access to his own, "That was a booty call, and it didn't even work out! He had gonorrhea and refused to wear protection."

"I really didn't need to hear that." Loona said, as she watched Blitz try to get a good wing with eyeliner that had definitely expired.

"And she had a third n*pple. Which I was just going to make a joke about it and move on but then she asks me if I like it, saying that it was expensive. She gave herself a third n*pple on purpose!" He said, struggling to match the wing on the other side.

"Okay, I really didn't want to hear that." Loona couldn't wipe the image from her mind.

"Ahh! How did I not see that!? This shirt is stained, now I have to start over!" He shouted, crawling past her to get back to his pile of laundry, throwing the rejects again, "Point is, I haven't had a real, emotions-included date in years."

Loona caught the clothes he threw, "Wait . . . Emotions included? You can't be serious."

"As serious as that guy's case of gonorrhea!" He gave up on the laundry pile and began relooking through the pile in her arms.

"Stop bringing that up!" Loona gave up trying to catch any of the clothes, and watched as they landed on the TV, in the walkway, and in the kitchen sink, "And are you sure you're ready for that . . . ? I mean, just yesterday you were a mess over-"

"Over a case of beer, I know." He sighed, holding the last shirt from the pile, and sat on the couch, "Look sweetie, I met a nice guy online and we've been talking for weeks now. He has a kid too, he laughs at my jokes, we watch the same shows, and . . . I don't know, he gets me."

"That explains why you've been giggling like a school girl at your phone constantly. Wait, did you say weeks? And you haven't met up yet? Is he hiding something?" Loona sat down next to him, her weight sinking her side down, causing him to bounce.

"No, well he was, but he told me. And then there was some stuff with his ex. And you know, I had st- . . . stuff going on so.” He shrugged, “For a bit we thought we were just going to be friends but things just worked out." He paused, smiling, before catching himself and cleared his throat, "Anyway, I want to look nice, but everything is either dirty or not the vibe so uh . . ."

Loona just looked at him, surprised to see him giddy about a person other than her, then sighed, “Well, if you want you can raid my closet too."

His face lit up and his tail swished back and forth, "Really?"

“Yes, but you have to get permission before trying anything on. Because the moment you do, it'll rip holes in it and it will officially be your shirt."

“Cool!” He skittered away on all fours, and she was left unsure if he had actually heard her or not.

Want to know who the date is with? Find out here:

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ another ficlet about the 118 coping with gerrard's captaincy. this one highlights chim & bobby, hurt/comfort, be warned it does reference several ('off screen') racist & anti asian micro aggressions.

also on ao3

the trenches

Ah, mop mildew. A familiar smell. Really takes him back, to feeling young and small and awful. And Koreans are supposed to be good at this sort of thing, so he can't really be annoyed, because isn't that a compliment?

Well at least he has his sarcasm to keep him company.

Chimney pulls a face and empties the bucket into the laundry sink.

“Chim?” Bobby sticks his head around the corner. It's still strange to see him in the wrong blues, but at least he's on the team. “What are you still doing here? Go home.”

“I'm on orders, Cap.” He starts filling the bucket again.

“No you're not. B shift will be in any minute; if Gerrard needs the floors done that badly one of them can do it. Anyway, didn't Eddie just do them yesterday?”

“Not well enough, apparently.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah.”

Chim sighs a heavy sigh as he lifts the bucket back to the ground, and it does little to dislodge the feeling of unpleasantness squeezing at his rib cage. Watching Eddie try and bite his tongue is even worse than having to do it himself. At least he's got age, practice, something on his side. He can take it. That's better, right? That's supposed to be better?

Bobby sighs too, and he steps into the room proper and drops his bag of gear to the ground.

“Let me do that,” he offers.

“Bobby. It's fine.”

“Howard. Please.” He insists, holding out his hand for the mop.

When Chimney still hesitates, Bobby glances behind them both and kicks the door so it almost closes.

“Look,” he says, and keeps his voice a little hushed. “I may not be well-versed in all this, but I do have eyes. I've read the file and I've worked the floor and I know there's things that man will say and do to certain members of this house that he'd never do to me. I've got no idea what do to with that, personally, and I don't want to make anything worse for you by picking a fight, but for what it's worth... I know you and Hen battled through a lot together back in the day - from him and everybody else who let him happen to you - but we don't operate like that here, not anymore. You are not alone. So if you need to call on me, lean on me, please do it. Buck too. We want to help.”

It's a lot. It's a lot to Howie who slugged literal thousands of buckets all over this floor during Gerrard's first time here; who was scratched from the kitchen not for being above it as a man but because the guys wouldn't shut up about what was really in his food. He's still haunted a little by pulled eyelids and broken accents dissolving into laughter, but never more than he is by stony silence and the smell of mildew.

Chim hands over the mop, and takes a deep breath.

“Okay. But before I go, allow me to bestow upon you the ancient knowledge of my ancestors. Behold.”

He flicks open the cabinet under the sink, and hauls out a large bottle with a white and purple label which reads: SHINE BRIGHT SOLUTIONS – HEAVY DUTY SURFACE CLEANER + DISINFECTANT. DILUTE 1:1000. It's almost definitely the same one that resides under every laundry sink in every fire house in all of LA.

Bobby stifles a smirk. “I will treasure it always.”

Chimney smirks back. With what they've been through these last few days, he could almost tackle the man. He settles for a nod.

“It's good to have you back, Cap.”

[necroromantics]

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 12. // (masterlist)

After a drawn out goodbye from his family, Toby had once again made his way back to his new home in North Dakota. He never stayed long in his childhood home, as if every time he set foot in that place, there was a scorching feeling within him that beckoned him to escape. On the way to the train station, he had stopped by an old antique store hidden in the recess of downtown Denver, a hidden gem it seemed only he knew about; his own corner of the world. In that little shop, Toby had spent his last trip savings on a small pocket watch for Natalie. He couldn’t seem to get the hands to move, but decided to tell her it was a deep metaphor for time, or something of the sorts.

The excitement of Christmas lingered, frost flushing the boys pale cheeks as he hurried through fields of snow, eager to arrive at his warm destination. The only ounce of color that painted the winter-blanketed countryside was Toby’s wild brown hair, which too had been dusted with falling snowflakes. As he ran up the creaky steps of the front porch, and fumbled with the house key, the boy could already feel the glow of the lit fireplace. He had hoped he left enough wood when he came back home, and to his luck, it seemed he did.

Natalie sat on the couch in the living room, leaning into the crackling flames, a sketchbook propped up on her raised knees. She turned her head up to look towards the noise of Toby walking into the room, and raised her eyebrow at him as he began to dig into his backpack.

“Here, I got you a little something on my way back,” He said as he pulled out a small box, and handed it to the girl who looked entirely indifferent, maybe uncomfortable.

“Hey, welcome back. And I thought we agreed on no gifts.”

“Yeah, well, I just saw it in passing and thought might as well. Don’t be a bitch Nat, just open it.”

Natalie rolled her eyes as she awkwardly dug her fingers under the lid of the box, and pulled it open. She stared down at the pocket watch for a moment as Toby eyed her blank expression. He thought he may have seen a hint of happiness in that typical glare of hers, or maybe it was disgust. The same type of look she’d always give him.

There was a tense silence for a moment before Natalie took the clock out of the box, and examined it closer, before putting it on the coffee table beside her and picking up her pencil once again.

“You really shouldn’t have wasted your money,” She said quietly as she avoided his gaze, continuing to work on whatever it was she had been drawing. Toby tried to choke back his anger, and took a seat next to her.

“I guess I shouldn’t have,” he sunk into his seat, “when’d you get back home?”

“Really early Christmas morning.”

“I got back to my mom’s place early. I think she was happy to see me, I scared the fuck out of Lyra though.” Toby smiled to himself as he sat himself up straight, and tried to lean over to see what Natalie had been working on, to which she turned her sketchbook further out of his view.

“But it was nice to see them regardless. It’s weird being able to visit my mom anytime I want, like actually go up and see her. And on Christmas I get to hangout with my sister, not just visit her gra-”

Toby trailed off with his words as they caught in his throat. He shook off the bubbling feeling he didn’t have a name for, and tried not to think of all the Christmases he had spent in the old world standing over his sister's grave, placing little trinkets he’d found down alongside flowers. Natalie glanced over at the boy, and noticed a strange type of sorrow settling itself on his face. A grief for something he hadn’t lost. A love for something that had only left him once.

“So you had a good time?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, great time. Last night was just spent with Lyra and I arguing over what movie to watch. Obviously I won, so we watched Die Hard. And apparently my mom was actually planning on surprising me by coming up here, but I got to her first.” Toby rambled on as a smile crept back onto his face. Though relieved at his returning excitement, Natalie couldn’t stop herself from ruthlessly beating down any feelings of envy for what her best friend had. Even in a world where nothing was wrong, her family was still a mess. She couldn’t seem to feel as happy as she should’ve been for him. There was only the sense that he was leaving her behind; that he was going where the grass was greener, while she was stuck with graveyard dirt and rot.

Natalie gripped her pencil a bit too tightly, and stood up.

“I’m going to go make a pot of coffee.”

Toby held a large bunch of freshly chopped firewood in his arms, his hatchet remaining in his free hand that draped around the wood. He dropped the lumber down onto the ground outside the backdoor, and took a deep breath in. He stared down mindlessly at the wood for a moment as the cold outside air danced around him. It was a chilly afternoon, and he could feel the frost build a home on his calloused hands. Toby continued to stare as time passed by him, slowly tightening his grip on his hatchet. The boy took another deep breath and the windchill overtook his tired lungs. He shook himself off, snapping himself back into the moment, and left to go back inside. Toby made his way into the bedroom, slowly opening the door so as to not wake his friend who had once again been sleeping in. Natalie had been sleeping so much that she was almost only awake for work, going back into her room as soon as she got home. The Christmas excitement had worn off, and had left them both miserable and bored. There was no more holiday cheer, only a cold, dead winter that surrounded them. Toby quietly closed the bedroom door after watching the sleeping girl for a moment, and sighed to himself.

Later that winter, Toby had begun to hunt animals as well, selling the meat to the local butcher shop which processed it for him. There was a rich population of deer and rabbits in the area, and Toby bought himself a shotgun off of Hank, the owner of the bar Natalie had been working at. The boy would often make the impulsive decision to leave the gun at home; he enjoyed the thrill of the chase when he used a close-range weapon like his hatchet. He always pushed his body to run as fast as it could to catch up to the prey. And a sick satisfaction that added to it when he finally caught it, holding the squirming animal down to cut its head off in one quick swing. To him, that was what made hunting so fun. To him, that was what he was built for.

He would often stay out late at night in that forest. Natalie never bothered to ask what he was always up to in his midnight lonesome. Toby would typically come home to find her fast asleep, or on some nights, still awake in that quiet farmhouse watching cable TV. When she saw how blue his hands had become, how red his cheeks, she would scold him for nearly getting frostbite, and Toby would brush her off as he crept up close to warm himself by the fireplace.

The afternoon sun glistened off the snowy fields as Natalie stared out of the kitchen window, a warm cup of coffee held in her hands, her eyes heavy with residue from her long sleep. She took a long sip before turning around and heading into the livingroom where Toby laid, lifting his head up to look at the girl entering the room, dropping it back down as he caught a glance.

“My mom called me again the other night,” he said.

“What’d she say?”

“I dunno, I didn’t pick up. I have a hard time talking to her.”

Natalie looked down at the boy sprawled out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

“Before all of that proxy bullshit happened, I was only her son. I keep forgetting that.” He sighed to himself as he sat up, bringing himself to his feet.

“I’ll go call her back.”

Toby pushed past the girl as she stared at him with an awkward sort of sympathy. There was a part of her that still wished she too could be lucky enough to be able to call her mother. There was a strange feeling that Natalie only lived in Toby’s shadows. That he had the luxury of family, connection, life, while she only had her morning cup of coffee that she held in her charcoal stained fingertips.

Once Toby had finished with the call his mother kept dragging out, Natalie suggested they go for another one of their walks around the forest near their house. She noticed that Toby would always have something new to share with her about the area. Some strange facts about the trees he cut down, some casual stories of a random happening. He always had something to talk about, and she always had time to listen. It had gotten dark out early into the evening, as the nights typically did that long winter. The two strolled down into the abyss that engulfed the gravel roads near the decaying farmhouse they lived in, heading towards the lights of the town in the distance. The birds had all flown south, and no deer dared to cross their path. It was another quiet night, only the sound of the pairs passing laughter and chatting filled the chilly winter air in the dead darkness.

“You seriously broke the hands?” Natalie said, holding the pocket watch Toby had gifted her in her palm. She had made it a habit to carry it around with her everywhere.

“I didn’t break them! I just couldn’t get them to work,” He replied, throwing up his hands in defense as they walked down the desolate streets of the town, only a few flickering street lamps lit up the dark roads.

“You told me it was a metaphor for time.”

“I lied.”

Natalie laughed as she collided her body into the boy's side. Toby smiled back and snaked his hand around her waist as they walked around aimlessly together. Though her heart was as cold as her hands, as dead as the winter roads the two walked through, she liked him. She liked him to ruin, to ash. And he liked her with a warmth greater than the fire between them. They could’ve burnt that town to the ground if they wanted.

It seemed that through all the suffocation and massacre of the wintertime, the two still found solace in each other. Partners in crime. As they walked in the dark, there was a remaining memory of all the things they had done together. All the blood they shed, all the things they stole, everything they tore apart. It was them against the world, they were both far too stubborn to let the mutual destruction go. Toby wondered who else could stomach them, and not choke them back up. Who else could see that girl in all of her wild insanity, her sharp gnashing teeth, her ruthless tongue, and not run for the hills. Who else could fight with each other, and for each other, as mercilessly as they did.

Through the sound of their banter, teasing, and rough laughter, there was a harmonizing symphony of something breaking, like glass, or a window pane, that screeched through the open air. The two stopped in their tracks, standing silently in the dead of night, glancing around the lifeless neighborhood for any signs of movement. Suddenly, they heard a scream, and a loud bang of a gun, and then silence again. Toby quickly ran towards the noise, watching as a man wearing a face mask scrambled frantically out of the house and down the streets, past the boy. Natalie rushed after Toby as he bolted up to the shattered window and peered in. The only thing he saw was a woman on her knees, wailing over the body of her dead child. The snow fell gently down onto the ground below his feet, the boy stood frozen, stuck in place, looking into the window of that dark house. Through shallow, shaky breaths, he inhaled the stench of blood and death. The world stopped for a moment, the cries and pleads from that mother were so loud, so guttural, it almost strangled him, and that murder wasn’t his burden to carry this time.

“Toby we need to get out of here,” Natalie whispered harshly at the dazed boy, the sound of approaching sirens mixing with the screaming sobs coming from within the house. As soon as the girl grabbed the boy's hand, he quickly snapped back into the world, and turned to face Natalie before she began to pull him away from the window, running through the icy streets.

They ran as fast as they could, back through the quiet abyss, down the gravel roads, up the creaky front porch steps, into the warm farmhouse. There was no laughter, no cheers of victories that they had escaped the police. Only the sound of panting as they desperately chased after their breaths. Natalie looked up at Toby, who looked to the floor as he breathed heavily. She calmed herself before he did, there was a contorted look on his face, as if he was about to vomit.

“Toby?”

Toby snapped his head up towards Natalie, and shook his head, brushing her concern off and walking towards their bedroom. She followed after him and watched as he took off his sweater, shirt, then socks, and climbed into bed without another word. Natalie silently flicked off the light, the cold air still burning in her lungs, and laid herself down next to him. The warmth from his body heated her icy hands as she pressed up against his back which was turned towards her. Natalie closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, listening to the quick breathing from the boy next to her. It seemed he still hadn’t caught his breath.

That night, Toby dreamt he was walking alone under the early morning sky, barely dawn, only the birds were awake. He had blood on his hands, a gash in his cheek, goggles around his neck. He gripped his hatchet in his hand as he walked past a playground, and noticed a little girl alone, playing on the monkey bars. Toby kicked the dirt with his mud-crusted and blood-stained sneakers as he hoped she wouldn’t scream at his crimson soaked appearance. Then, he noticed how empty the area was, how quiet. And he noticed the girl was now standing in front of him.

“Where are your parents?” He asked, irritated.

“I don’t know, they leave me here.”

“They leave you here alone?”

“Mhm. A man took me from my momma and he leaves me here sometimes.”

Toby stared down at the little girl who couldn’t have been more than 7 years old. He furrowed his brow with annoyance, and brushed her off, walking past her and into the forest that surrounded the park. He didn’t look back as he left that little girl there alone. He had better things to waste his time on.

The boy fluttered his eyes awake, the night skies still darkening the room. Natalie slept beside him, occasionally muttering to herself. Toby felt a deep, soiled sort of feeling in his chest. Like he had just swallowed mud, or buried a body. He pulled himself up out of bed, and walked sluggishly through the dark, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Toby rubbed his eyes, and leaned over the sink, spitting down the drain to remove the sour taste in his mouth. His hands gripped the edges as he held his weak body up, spitting again, and glanced up into the mirror. He stared at himself for a moment. He looked at the circles under his eyes, and how they’d gotten darker since when he had first come to the new world. He looked at his young face, still only a seventeen year old boy. He looked at how his scars were no longer there, how the gash in his cheek was still gone. Toby had avoided mirrors for so long, he almost forgot how strange he looked. Everything in that reflection looked like a rotten mutt, like he was looking at the decomposing body of a man who knew he wasn’t going to see the pearly gates when he died.

It made him sick. And that sickness crawled its way up from his gut, and into his throat. He gagged for a moment, glancing away from the mirror, and spat into the sink once again. Then, Toby began to throw up. There wasn’t much to remove itself from his stomach, but he retched, and he spat, and he choked. Toby felt as though something horrible was about to happen, like maybe against all odds, he’d finally collapse and die in that bathroom. And like he did back on the floor of his childhood home, he half-wished he would.

Toby wiped his mouth and rinsed his hands off before heading back into bed. He made sure to not touch his body up against Natalie’s as she slept. He made sure to keep that distance between them. And though he tried, Toby couldn’t seem to fall back asleep. He listened to the sound of the old bell alarm clock Natalie had bought tick away, creating a gentle ambiance that cradled him. It reminded the boy of the times he’d fall asleep with her back in the old world. Under trees by a dim campfire, in old abandoned cabins, on torn up mattresses. Toby always had struggles sleeping, there was always something to consider before he gave himself the right to rest. Was his father up late drinking? Did he have a job to do? Were there any dangers? Did he reinforce the door? Was he given orders? Had he done something terrible?

Countless nights afterwards, Natalie would wake up to find Toby shaken, trying to find God in the bathroom light, trying to wash something off his fingers. Sometimes, he would scrub so hard he would bleed, and that red was only confirmation to his beliefs that his hands were still stained. In his reckless mind, he would never escape what he was, what he’d done.

“Toby, come back to bed,” the girl groaned through a tired voice, shaking the sleepiness off of her heavy body as she made her way to the boy's side. Her hands gripped his, in a tender telling that everything was fine. She pulled him with her back into the bedroom, and the two sat together on the mattress, a gentle creak giving way under their weight. The girl nudged his body with her arm as a form of tough intimacy. Natalie never knew how to express herself besides roughness. Toby knew this, and let her show herself to him in her entirety. It worked out well for the both of them that he couldn’t feel pain. But to him, as long as it was her, it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

“You shouldn’t let it get to you, you know. It’s not like you’ve done anything bad here besides steal a few things, and who gives a shit about that?” Natalie said as she leaned into Toby.

“Yeah, I know. I just keep having weird dreams.”

“About what?”

“Killing people, I guess.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that, it’s just a dream.”

“It feels more like a memory.” Toby looked down at his hands which had been scrubbed to the bone, pieces of skin flaking off, bleeding from his nails and the cracks in his fingers. Even when he washed, the blood didn’t come off.

“Yeah, Toby, you’ve killed people. I have too. But damn we’re lucky we get a clean slate. All of those people you hurt are probably still alive and well in this world.”

“That doesn’t matter Nat, it doesn’t change anything. At some place, at some time, I killed people, and now it’s all gone like it was for nothing.” Toby swallowed and breathed in the darkness surrounding them.

“I killed people for no reason at all. All of that shit was for nothing. You- You think I wanted any of that? You think I wanted to be stuck in that fucking place, doing all those things just to survive?”

“I know-”

“No! Nat, you don’t know shit. All the fighting and screaming and blood. All the losing time, losing my fucking mind, losing everything. And for what? I was supposed to die in that forest fire, I never asked to be saved” Toby raised his voice into a shout as he stood up. Natalie looked up at him as Toby ran his hand over his mouth, shaking his head as he tried to calm himself down.

“I’m just really tired, Nat.” His voice cracked as he spoke quietly. Natalie reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling him down into her. She leaned back as the boy pressed his body on top of hers.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault. I know you never wanted it to be this way. Neither did I,” she hushed as she ran her fingers through his hair. Toby sniffled to himself in the dark silence of the room. Natalie dragged her hand down his spine, rubbing his back as she quietly hummed the tune of ‘you are my sunshine’; something her mother used to do with her when she was young. It was almost like an undressing of the soul, a symphony of the past that assured the angry boy the world is better with him in it. Toby buried his face into the nape of her neck and breathed in.

“I don’t want all of that to be for nothing. I never became anything great after it all. I didn’t get stronger, or better. I’m seventeen again and the only thing that changed is that I just suffered more.” He whispered in a low confession. Natalie ran her hand over his back, over where the Slender Symbol was once branded into his right back shoulder blade.

“You’re a dumbass.” She whispered back.

Toby stood silently in the midst of the forest on a quiet January morning, a shotgun in his hand. He aimed it at a deer who was staring back at him, neither of them looked away. Toby placed his finger on the trigger, a perfect shot. The deer remained still, as still as the trees, as the wind, as the snow, as the boy's finger lightly tapping the gun. Toby felt a dizziness take over him as he continued to stare at the animal across from him, his hands trembling. A wave of sickness choked him as he dropped the shotgun, the sudden motion startling the deer which quickly ran off.

The boy began to feel his body get weak, and his chest get tight. The world around him was spinning. He assumed The Slenderman was punishing him for disobeying again. He knew he should’ve been strong enough to pull that trigger. Toby collapsed to his knees as he tried to catch his escaping breath, his hand pressing against his chest as his heart beat faster and faster. He heard the snapping of a branch across the woods, and he quickly looked up to see the deer once again standing distanced from him. Toby glared at the animal.

“I already let you go, so fuck off,” he yelled out. The deer didn’t move.

“What? You want me to kill you? I’ll blow your fucking brains out, go already you dumbass!” And still, the deer didn’t move. Toby sat on his knees for a moment, his hand resting on the shotgun beside him, and stared back at the animal. He took in the world around him. The soft warmth of the morning sun, the white glistening snow, the curious deer, the naked tree branches winding up into the blue skies overhead. There was something so unfamiliar about it all. The dangerous knowledge that there was no command from central, that there was no need to kill. For once in his wartorn life, the soldier boy was given a choice. And for once in his life, the ruthless boy gave mercy.

“You’re not worth my time,” he scoffed as he stood up, taking the shotgun with him as he walked back home.

[yelenghs]

elaborate on femcel gamer yelena please🫡

make out with me, anon. n e ways😋 (i got a little silly w this one yall)

femcel! gamer! yelena is absolutely putrid. not to mention a huge perv as well.

she works from home and goes days without leaving the house sometimes. of course she showers, but sometimes she goes a few days without doing so just to annoy you. usually it ends with you showering with her and letting her feel you up while in there.

MESSY. ASS. ROOM. seeing it from your own point of view, it looks like a train wreck in there. the moment you step in youre hit with musty girl smell, cheap air freshener (that doesnt work too well), and her signature scent (which, SURPRISINGLY, is not that musty). there's piles of clothes, books on her shelves, a trash bin that's filled to the brim, and papers from her jobs scattered around her desk

but to her, it's an organized mess. she knows where everything is, she doesnt even have to look to know where anything is in her room. the one thing that is somewhat clean, though, is her bed. mainly because she likes to sleep with you and knows you wont sleep with her stuff thrown onto the bed.

when youre spending the night at her place, it's pretty easy to notice a pattern in how she acts. during the day/morning she looks completely serious, filing out paperwork and working diligently. yet when she's off work and the sun starts to set, it's like her personality flips a switch!

she becomes completely care free, her words slurred and the alcohol on her breath very apparent. when she's gaming almost all of her attention goes to that instead. and youve gotta say, she does look kinda hot when she's focused like that. you can even hear her cussing under her breath or sometimes yelling at her teammates.

if she gets too frustrated she rage quits and immediately walks over to you. that could end in one of two ways;

A.) you cuddle with her and she completely relaxes into you

or

B.) she takes her anger out on you (consensually) and fucks you with her strap till youre dumb.

also she has definitely made you sit on her lap while she gamed. she loves to rest her head on your shoulder while she does. sometimes she gives you a few hickeys while she's at it. other times, she'll make you wear a vibrator while she was on a call with her friends who weren't aware of what was going on. the moment they hang up she's shutting of her monitor and dragging you to the bed.

okay now that we've talked about those things, i want to talk about what really makes her a femcel. the absolute downright disgusting things that just complete it.

starting off strong with; sometimes she wears the same underwear she wore before she showered. she just flips it inside out and calls it a day. it disgusts you, but at least she's not going commando all the time.

she forgets to put on deodorant when she goes out. it's not too much of a problem, she doesnt sweat a lot, and even if she does it doesnt smell that bad either. but since youre her girlfriend and practically live with her, you can definitely tell she forgot.

will go days without changing her clothes. they could smell absolutely rancid but she's like 'it's okay it's not like im going out anyways' and then that's when you have to wrestle them off of her.

sometimes lets dishes and trash pile up at her desk and wont bother to take them out until you nag her about it or it starts getting in the way of her work.

now when it comes to the more perverted things..

she sniffs your panties and uses them to masturbate. when you're not home she scavanges through your dirty laundry and finds a pair of worn underwear that you havent washed. she'd hold it to her nose and while she rubs her clit in fast, tight circles.

openly stares at your ass and tits. no matter where you are. even if you two are going grocery shopping, she'll smirk a little bit and watch how your hips sway and your ass jiggle with every step you take. she's tall, so she has the advantage of looking down your shirt as well.

she likes to grope you when it just the two of you alone at her place or yours. even if you two are just walking by eachother, she'll grab your tit or smack your ass. other times, if she's feeling bold, she'll let her hand run across your hips; just shy of your crotch before walking past you.

when you two are cuddling, she likes to seat herself between your legs sometimes and mouth at you through the fabric of your panties while laying her head on your thigh. if she's tired, she just sniffs in the scent of your pussy before taking a nap in between your legs.

the most down bad thing she's ever done, is probably masturbate to you while you were asleep. as well as cum on you while you were resting. she'd bite her hand or a pillow to keep herself quiet. when she came, she wasnt expecting to squirt. she had squirted all over your sleeping form. she apologized in the morning and you just told her to wake you up from now on if she was feeling horny. unless she wanted you to be asleep, you weren't against it.

[frostgears]

We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 7: Bree 5

Hair loose, wearing nothing but a blouse, Bree bounced up and down on her toes, recalibrating herself, feeling the way this body moved. She was far more Coda's work now than Nost's or her own. But Coda's work was always good. Light. Fast. Really absurd quality for domestic automatons, if not quite up to the standards of a mage who made of herself a war machine.

She thought that it wasn't Lyric's body that stopped it from being the divine hero of the Kingdom. Not that she could really blame it. It found another role and fit perfectly into it and she couldn't tell herself now that she wasn't the right doll for the job after all…

Focus, Bree. Collect those thoughts and line them up, biggest to smallest. Goal: protect the Kingdom. Strategic objective: head off the next war. Tactical objective: deny the Crimson Fist their kill. Cover story: doll maid. Next step: put on the damn dress.

She held it up, loosened the ties, pulled the thing over her head. Felt weird. She checked the mirror. It was the wrong way around and now her blouse was bunched up. She pulled it off again, smoothed the blouse, rotated the dress, shrugged herself back into it, froze.

"Are you done in there?" Zai shouted through the dressing room's door. "I need a uniform too!"

"I'm. Uh." She shouldn't have looked in the mirror. That had been a mistake. The dress, even the body, they could have been a costume, but now they were her. First look: a slim brunette, not that different from the body she was born in, but terminally mousy and wan. Second look: she refocused, saw hard angles and precise curves and ball joints, but not the ball joints she was used to—

"Not waiting any longer." Zai barged in. The spy rustled through the small closet next to the mirror, pulled a warm brown and decorously ruffled dress the near-twin of Bree's, hung it on a hook as she began hunting for undergarments. "Something wrong?"

"Everything," Bree said, miserably.

"No. Be specific."

"I can't! It's my whole damn me!"

"Doesn't matter. Job to do. Look the part, worry about the rest on your own time." She flicked calm dark eyes over Bree, sniffed. "Also, you forgot your corset, and your petti, and," she gestured to the cabinet full of various compact metal horrors on the other side of the mirror, "about half of what you need for the real job."

Zai undid the neck-string of her nightdress and dropped it to her feet with a shrug. She dismissed her boxers with a tug of thumb over hip and let those fall to the floor on top of the nightdress, then kicked the whole pile into a laundry bin with an apparently practiced foot.

"Take all that off. Get dressed with me, do exactly what I do, and then at least blending won't be a problem."

Bree kept staring at herself, but it was a small room, with a large mirror.

Zai took it otherwise, smirking. "Nothing you haven't seen before, lady-killer. Come on. Fresh panties. Catch," she said, tossing Bree a pair from an open drawer.

Bree boggled from the sheer absurdity of it. "I don't need panties, Zai. I don't piss, I don't sweat, I don't have a period, I don't even get wet unless my Owner…" — and that was a thing that surfaced unpleasantly like a shark in a hot spring; when did she start thinking that word with a capital O — "…presses a button for it."

Zai glared. "Aren't we fancy. Put your damn panties on, because Lady Emmerline's maidservants don't go around not wearing underwear, dolls or not."

"Fine!" She pulled them on.

"Good. Stay with me. Stockings. Thigh holsters, both sides, left side steel, right side alkalium, three blades each, well clear of the stockings and don't forget which metal's where. Slip. Braided cable whip. Wear that looped around your waist, you'll pull the petti up under it, dress has a buttoned flap in each hip pocket for when you need to pull it out…"

Bree dutifully followed Zai's directions, putting each undergarment and each weapon on as Zai did the same.

"Corset. Actually, first, here, help me with mine. Just pull this a little tighter and tie it off. Okay, good, tight enough. Petticoat. Hand me that back scabbard, and one of those short swords. And the tube next to it."

"What's that?"

"Blowgun. Not every problem is nice enough to happen inside throwing knife range, and there's no way I could fit an actual bow in this and still be able to bend. No point you taking one, though, you barely have lungs." Zai checked herself approvingly in the mirror, white foundation garments strapped over with dark leather and metal, then over at Bree. "Want a slingshot or something?"

"Oh! No. I mean yes. I mean, I have one already. Spring-driven pellet-thrower. Nost put it in yesterday when she added the seals." Bree tapped the port cover in her left palm. "It's no tethered-harpoon cannon, but it's something."

"You still have the soulcatcher too," Zai pointed out.

"Yeah, without the mycelial conduits or the mana furnace that made it work halfway usefully in my usual body. It's one shot and it won't work on anyone healthy."

"It's one shot that they won't expect," the spy said, as if dealing with a particularly dim student. She started wriggling into the uniform dress, pausing a few times to make sure her personal arsenal didn't snag. "Use everything you can get. What's left in the cabinet?"

Bree prodded a heavy waxed twill bag on the bottom shelf. "Just the showstopper dust."

"Give me two of the small bags. I don't have your arm strength. You take the big ones."

"Where am I meant to put these?" Bree said, her un-tweaked voice box completely failing to convey any of the frustration she felt. Had her old body really been this small and weaponless? How had she gotten anything done?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Slim brunette, mousy and wan. Dress fit, at least, now that she had it on properly. Easy to move in. Easy to perform her household duties — what household, Bree, you're here to stop an assassination — cooking, cleaning, serving drinks and snacks to her Owner and her Owner's guests, perhaps learning to sew from Zai in her downtime. Zai had made both sets of uniforms; she was quite the seamstress, a talented role model…

Bree. Bree what the fuck. You're not really a maid any more than Zai is. That's just the bindings talking.

An idea. Bree unbuttoned the top two buttons of her crisp white blouse and reached inside. "Zai," she asked, "opinions?"

"Hm. If you can pop those buttons quickly, should be fine. Turn sideways," Zai said thoughtfully, then, "Tighten the corset, you're sagging. Wait, faster if I do it." The spy's hands worked deftly behind Bree's back. "Better."

Bree faced the mirror again. Slim brunette, mousy and wan, dress fitted very closely over a carefully concealed set of weapons capped off by what had to be a good four or five kilos of carefully packaged showstopper dust padding out her corset.

"Yes," she whispered. "Better."

"Your usual body doesn't have those," her fellow "maid" pointed out. "More like the one before this one?"

"Nah, never really had much to work with there. I think… it's just that I can change something. Back in the Academy, new hair color every month, new piercing every year, little optical glamors going more often than not. But just now, hells, I was starting to think that all this was just my Owner's body. The service compulsions had me pretty hard."

Zai's face flickered with surprise, confusion, disgust.

"Is this going to be a problem, Bree?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"You beat them before."

"Yeah."

"You built the compulsions."

"I built part of them. Joint effort, me and Coda."

"You took orders pretty well, just now."

"Yes. That helped. A lot. Thank you. I feel like I'll be okay getting dressed and gearing up tomorrow morning, it's just, the mirror was a surprise–"

"An order for you, then," Zai said, voice hard. "You think you can't do this, any time, you tell me, we scrub, we get out. You are the strongest of us, even in that body. We need you thinking like you. I am not," she added, "losing the irreplaceable Bree the Blessed, Savior of the Summer Capital, Hero of the Arbor Pass, Secret Shield of the Kingdom, to some back-alley doll sorcery gone wrong because we tried to pull an undercover job and she went weird on me. We can leave. Tell me and we will. That's an order."

"Yes, Zai, I will tell you," she blurted, instantly, and knew that she would.

A bell tingled outside the servants' quarters.

"Where are my lovely handmaidens, then?" Emmerline called, her voice booming and jovial.

The sheer Emmerline of the moment broke something's horrible hold on her. "She's going to be absolutely insufferable with that thing for the entire time we're here," Bree said.

"That's the most normal sentence I've heard you say all morning," Zai muttered. "And there are how many like you? Wish the Service had kept an eye on this Coda."

---

prev: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 6: Bree 4

next: when it's done

[ghostofaboy]

Kinktober 2023 - October 22nd

Day 22: True Monsters, Spiritual Possession, Sexual Exhaustion

Marcus Pike x Pero Tovar

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1139

Warnings: anal sex, two people in one body

@absurdthirst Kinktober List | Ghost of a Boy Masterlist

It had been a long and difficult case, and Marcus had a headache. The raid the day before had gone well, and now the scumbag at the heart of the organization was going away for a long time. But the team had found way more stolen art than any of them had ever imagined. And all that art had to be cataloged, which was apparently down to him and Agent Garner. Of course when Garner’s kid had gotten sick Marcus had told him to go home leaving him to finish up for the day. 

Standing from his desk, Marcus winced as his head throbbed again. Taking a couple of steps, Marcus had to catch himself as his vision blurred. Gripping onto the edge of his desk, Marcus tried to focus on the 11th century urn in front of him. His vision swam as he crumpled to the floor and everything went back.

======

“You are allowed to love men?” A voice in his head woke Marcus and he jolted upright, still on his office floor. 

How long had he been out? Marcus reached up and touched his head, checking for lumps or blood. 

“It has not been long.” The voice came again and Marcus whipped his head around to look but there was no one else in the office.

“Hello?” Marcus called out as he stood on shaking legs. “Who’s there?”

“I am Pero Tovar.” The voice sounded like it was right next to him. “You can not see me. I can not see you. But I hear you. I see flashes of your thoughts. You have loved men?”

“What?” Marcus slumped down in a chair, confused. “I mean, yeah. I’ve had male and female partners. Why? Also why are you in my head?”

“I do not know.” Pero mused. “I have been with men but could not love them.” 

Pero sounded sad, Marcus thought. But the more immediate concern was why there was a strange man now speaking in his head. Was he going crazy? 

“Perhaps we are both crazy.” Pero chuckled, startling Marcus, who leapt out of his chair. 

“Ok, that doesn’t make me feel better.” Marcus started to gather his things. It was best to figure this out at home, the last thing he need was someone overhearing him talking to himself.

======

A few hours later, Marcus and Pero had managed to figure out roughly how this thing worked. Somehow Pero’s spirit was in Marcus’ body and if Marcus had to guess it was something to do with that damn urn. Pero was also insisting he was speaking Spanish while Marcus still heard him in English, albeit with a strong Spanish accent. The most disturbing part however was when Marcus went to the bathroom and saw a strange man’s face looking at him from the mirror.

Pero was older than him, by the look of it. Rough and hardened from years of mercenary work, with a thick scar over one eye. When asked, Pero said he saw Marcus in the mirror. 

They talked about their lives, with Pero asking a lot of questions about Marcus’ job and love life. Pero admired how Marcus protected beautiful things and was fascinated by the modern world’s attitudes to same sex relationships. After many hours, Marcus felt like Pero was an old friend, but neither man knew how to be free of the other.

“How many men?” Pero’s question came out of nowhere as Marcus was getting ready for bed.

“Two boyfriend.” Marcus finished getting undressed, throwing his boxers into the laundry hamper. “I’ve slept with five guys, not including the boyfriends, so seven all together. Not that many.”

“Not that many?” Pero sounded incredulous. “I had sex with two men my whole life. Only sex, it could never be any more than that.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus slid into bed. “Who were they?”

“I do not want to speak of them.” Pero sounded as though he was lay next to Marcus. “You are very handsome, Marcus. To have so many lovers, yet you are not married.”

“I was.” Marcus felt goosebumps dance over his skin, making his cock stir under the covers. “It didn’t work out. She was unfaithful. Had a couple of other serious relationships since but… nothing… think I must…” 

Marcus trailed off as what felt like lips grazed his own as unseen hands roamed his torso. Gentle touches over his nipples as the kiss became more insistent. A warm, heavy feeling settled over his body as his legs were nudged apart. Letting his eyes flutter closed, Marcus surrendered himself to the feeling as he let his ghostly lover take control. 

“Pero?”

“Do you want me to stop?” Pero’s voice sounded husky as his hand worked Marcus’ cock.

“No.” Marcus spread his legs further, allowing his knees to be pushed up to bare his ass for Pero. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” Pero’s lips moved down to Marcus’ nipples, making his skin tingle. “But something has pushed us together. We should take advantage of that.”

Marcus hummed in agreement as he felt Pero’s thick cock pushing into him, splitting him in two. It should have hurt with no prep or lube but Marcus felt nothing but pleasure. It coursed though his body, overtaking everything else and filling his head with static.

Heat flooded through him as Pero began to pound into him. Pero was hard, rough and frenzied, pushing Marcus up the bed with each thrust. Inside his head, Pero grunted and growled, pouring praise and compliments into Marcus’ very soul.

The sensations were almost overwhelming. His whole body trembled and his nerves felt as though they were on fire. Marcus ached all over with arousal, making him moan loudly and arch his back. His cock was throbbing, and Marcus knew he should have come by now. It had been over two years since he’d last been with anyone, and weeks since he’d touched himself. All this attention should have pushed him over the edge by now, but instead Marcus was held there, writhing on the bed as wave after wave crashed over him.

Pero’s passion was merging and fueling his own, and Marcus couldn’t tell who was feeling what anymore. Everything was blurring into one burning hot pool of ecstasy as Marcus saw flashes of battles, long horse treks across unknown countries and strange creatures with too many eyes.

Marcus was lost with a sea of sweaty desire as Pero's cock filled him. His head felt foggy and he knew he should fight this, but all he could feel was Pero and the aching need to come. As his knees were pushed further up, almost to his shoulders, Marcus gripped the sheets but felt nothing. As he and Pero floated away, Marcus could swear he saw a white light in the corner of his bedroom.

[spacemancharisma]

Hey you said feel free to ask hygiene questions. How often should you be doing stuff? Like showering, washing hair, washing bedding? Washing re-wearable clothing like jeans or jackets or bras that I think you can wear multiple times without needing to wash?

Idk other esp hygiene or cleaning activities that you need to do sometimes.

Like they tell you brush your teeth twice a day but not how often you need to wash other things.

yeah this is a really good question! I’m putting it under the cut since it got p long lol

so showering is ideally every day, but that can be difficult for some people, so as close to that as you can manage is good. if you have days that it’s too much, wiping down with a rag or a baby wipe is good. be sure to thoroughly clean your genitals/butthole every night before bed, just for your health. on baby wipe days, i get that whole zone really clean, and also my armpits, feet, and anywhere my skin folds over bc sweat tends to trap there. wash your face well at least once a day (I do it in the shower) and if you’re up to it, give it a good scrub with just water at the other end of the day. there’s no hygiene gain or loss from shaving any part of your body, so do that as much or little as is your preference. I put on deodorant at least twice a day (when I wake up & after I shower), or whenever I’m feeling sweaty/stinky.

washing your hair really depends on its length and texture and I can only speak to white person hair care, but as far as that goes- I have thick, curly hair, and I wash it every 2-3 days. people with greasier hair tend to wash it more often. like with most things, a good test is to wash whenever it starts to have a smell, or more frequently than that lol. comb your hair out when you wash it to keep it from getting matted. people with straight hair brush it dry, too, but that isn’t something I do personally.

clothes go by the smell principle too, mostly. shirts can get two or three wears unless they’re sweaty/stained/stinky. pants made of a thick material can usually last a week, though some people stretch their jeans out even more if they’re good material. again- if it starts to have a smell, put it in the laundry. bras are also good for a week or so at a time as long as they’re not stinky. jackets and stuff go by the same principle, and they last a long time usually, since they don’t touch your skin directly. underwear should be changed at least once a day and not reworn, same with socks.

washcloths should only be used once, but bath towels can get two or three uses. hand towels should be switched/washed about once a week.

people tell you to change/wash your bedsheets once a week but I don’t know anyone who does that lmao. changing your sheets every two weeks or so is usually good; you might want to do so more frequently though if you’re sick or eating in bed or having a lot of sex or something hfbggjg

like you said, brushing your teeth is standard once in the morning and once at night. if you want to do a bonus one halfway through the day, that’s probably good for you, but most people don’t. brush your tongue when you brush your teeth- it only takes a couple seconds and it does a lot apparently. get a new toothbrush at least every 6 months, if not more often.

body chores: clip your finger/toenails as often as works best for you. I can’t stand having long nails so I trim them once a week, but that would obvs be different if you like long nails. floss as often as you can, but don’t feel bad if you’re not consistent- very few people are. put lotion on your body if your skin gets dry- I recommend aveeno, it’s not greasy and it works really well. if you have sex toys, clean them before and after every use (it’s a pain but you do Not want to fuck with any kind of germs down there).

household chores: clean toilet- once a week. clean bathroom sinks/tub: once a month (clean mirrors while you’re at it). empty trash cans- once a week. clean kitchen counters- every time you cook. clean stovetop- once a week. dust- once a month but this one’s kinda optional lmao. laundry- before you run out of clean clothes/towels. dishes- before you run out of clean dishes. floors- my family vacuumed/swept once a week growing up but as an adult I just kinda follow my heart here lol. change pet litter- at least once a week.

health: you’re supposed to see your GP once a year for a regular health check, and that’s good to get blood work done to make sure your hormones and such are all balanced, but it’s okay if you don’t keep a super strict schedule with that. dentists you really should see once every 6 months, or at least once a year. if you have a uterus, get a pap smear done every 5 years. get checked for STIs with each new partner, or once a year. keep track of your period if you have one so you know if there are irregularities; change tampons/pads as needed, you know best, but remember to never sleep with a tampon in. give yourself a breast self-exam at least once every few months, if applicable. drink water consistently throughout the day, listen to your body and eat when you’re hungry, try to have at least one fruit or vegetable a day (doesn’t have to be whole/raw, just get those nutrients where you can). the average number of times in a day to pee is apparently 6-7, but I’d say anywhere from 5-10 is normal, idk I’m not a pee expert. either way, stay aware of your body and it’s needs and don’t hold your pee if you have literally any other options- your kidneys are important and that hurts them. you should poop 1-2 times a day, not accounting for any health conditions that might change that. do your best to get 8-9 hours of sleep a night, and get your body in motion for at least 30 minutes a day- this could be a gentle walk or even doing household chores, the important thing is to keep your muscles and joints flexible. do some basic stretches once a day.

and some closing remarks- I’m really proud of you for reaching out to ask, cause I know it can be really hard to talk about this stuff. there’s absolutely no shame in ignorance, and similarly, there is no shame in being dirty/smelly. as humans, we tend to keep ourselves and our surroundings clean because it’s better for our health and our sensory experience, and it makes us more pleasant for others to be around, but it’s important to remember that none of this is a moral imperative. I grew up in a house that made it seem like you were a bad person if you were dirty or you smelled like BO, and that’s not a healthy or accurate approach to things. keeping proper hygiene when you can is important, but because it makes your life more pleasant to live, not because it’s a sin or a slight to do otherwise. just do your best to take care of yourself, and you’re doing great 💜

[manias-wordcount]

Office sex with Jean and Lisa to relieve stress? 👀

Too Good to Be True (Jean x Reader x Lisa)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺 !!!! 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘃𝗼𝘆𝘂𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗺/𝗲𝘅𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗺

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

You really came just to drop off lunch, honest! Just give a quick hello, leave it on her desk, and be off on your merry way back home. That was it, you swear!

  But then Kaeya stopped you just as you entered the Knights of Favionius headquarters. And he pleaded with you to stay with her for an hour- maybe more. He, alongside everyone else, wanted her to take care of herself. They wanted her to just take a break and think of resting for once. And at this point, you were the only one left to convince her. The only one who could get through to her at this point. So of course, it pulled on your heartstrings. On most days, you’re a housewife. Besides the few days a week you spend as a volunteer at the library as Miss Lisa’s little assistant, you have a hard time feeling important when it’s only Jean around to appreciate your work. And even then, it’s hard for her to notice anything but the bed when she’s overworked.

  Naturally, you obliged. What was the harm anyways? Dinner was done for the week and the laundry was already out to dry. Perhaps she could find some use for you. You figured she might appreciate sitting back and eating lunch while watching you organize her file. You could even run an errand or two for her. Just like you used. When you were both just starting to fall in love. 

  But then Miss Lisa approached you two. A few books tucked under her arm and a knowing smile on her face. Chiming in about how she needed to get Jean’s advice about something. Something that apparently couldn’t wait. And for some reason, your gut was telling you that maybe you might be away from home a bit longer than you’d imagine. But surely that has nothing to do with the hand she had just placed on the small of your back as she guided you to the door of your wife’s office, right? 

  Right?

  Of course, people change. People lie. People hide their intent. They do all sorts of things. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worst. Sometimes the woman you fall in love with learns to manage her stutter around you. Sometimes the woman you fall in love with learns to know when you want to hold her hand or when you want a kiss just from a simple look. And sometimes…

  Sometimes the woman you fall in love with trains you to drop your panties and lift up your skirt on command the second she pats her thigh. Even while you’re still in the presence of a very touchy Head Librarian.

  “J-Jean…” Your voice is breathless as you call her name. Yet she pays you no heed. Same as she did for these past ten minutes that she was finally able to lay her hands on you. “Jean, I  can’t… ”

  “Honestly, Jean you’re so cruel to her,” Besides you, Miss Lisa is tutting as she continues to stroke your hair. They’re feather-light touches and their only purpose is to make your body burn warmer at the thought of someone else besides your wife seeing you in such a state. But every once in a while you’ll feel it- the slight crackle of electricity from her fingertips. Sending the smallest jolts through your body. Reminding you that you are currently the farthest thing from alone. “If she were all mine I’d let her have her way as soon as she asked for it.”

  Your legs ache, and your arms are starting to grow tired. But the weight of Miss Lisa’s words can’t help but travel straight to your pussy, exciting your further. Though the second you try to lift yourself up on your own two legs, Jean’s arm tightens its grip around your waist. Her eyes slide over to you for once. Though she never lets go of the pen still trapped in her right hand. Instead, she has you sit there. Completely and utterly silent as her hand continues to glide across the paper as she writes out her perfectly crafted signature. All while you stay there, legs wrapped around one of her thighs as you roll your hips over and over again. Hoping for an orgasm you’re sure will never arrive. And you  hate  it. 

  You hate it so much that you can’t help but love it.

  “But she’s not your wife.” Jean reminds Miss Lisa in a matter-of-fact tone, her gray-blue eyes meeting a pair of green ones with a raised eyebrow. The way she speaks is so casual even though someone is watching her wife get off. It makes you feel embarrassed about your position. About your vulnerability. Your neediness. Your everything. But quick looks from Jean and Miss Lisa remind you that you  are  the show. You  are  the entertainment. A teasing stroke of your leg and the ghosting of a touch over your still-clothed chest may be the extent of what’s allowed now. But something tells you that they’ve been planning this. Something tells you that more is on the horizon. “And I do with her as I please.”

  More of things you just wouldn’t know until it’s right in front of you.

  You’ll never understand what she means when she says having you like this makes it easier for her to calm down and focus. As far as you’re concerned, the feeling of you riding her thigh must serve as the biggest distraction. What's more, the critical input of another commenting on how one pleases their partner. Still, it was Jean’s idea for Miss Lisa to lock the door behind you both as you hiked up that skirt of yours. Jean’s idea to have you sit pretty on her lap and to bury your face in her neck whenever Miss Lisa would state how your little whimpers and gasps start to get a little loud. And  of course , Jean’s idea to continue working, to continue  speaking  to Miss Lisa the entire time she edged you in her office, the outsider just sitting mere inches away from you. Though who are you to stop her?

  No one,  you can’t help but think as a whimper passes through your lips.  No one at all . 

  Because you can’t help but love it. All of it. Even if it seems too good to be true.

  “Just a few more minutes, beautiful,” Jean murmurs before turning her head and delivering a soft kiss on your forehead. Instantly you feel your face warming again at the pet name and soft gesture. In return, you brush your fingers against the back of her neck, tracing small patterns into her skin. The quiet sigh she lets out as her attention returns to her work is enough to tell you that she enjoys the feeling. Though the way the arm around your waist starts to coax you into moving again is enough for you to suddenly become hyperaware of the slick mess you’re making on her tights and the growing sensitivity of your clit as it brushes against the fabric. “A few more minutes, and we’ll take care of you, okay?”

  ‘We’ll take care of you.’

  It confirms your suspicions. An inkling of a feeling that you weren’t still here just to be watched. That soon enough, Miss Lisa’s fingers that spend their most precious time fluttering around your jaw and your neck will soon find their way lower and lower. You feel so greedy, sinking in the attention of both women. As much as you loved your wife, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander when you were in the presence of the Head Librarian. There was no denying the fact that she was almost as gorgeous as your wife, though it was her touches while you were at the library that always had you dreaming about a chance for something more. Hugs that last too long, hands on your hips while you’re using the ladder. All the signs were there for you. But you didn’t believe them. You couldn’t believe them. A threesome with her wife and her subordinate? 

  There was just no way you could imagine Jean ever saying yes to such an outrageous request. 

  But she did. At some point, along the way, Jean said yes to the idea. Just like Miss Lisa have at one point. And just like you’re doing it now. Choking out a “ Y-yes!”  before tucking your face in Jean’s neck and biting at her collar as Miss Lisa’s hands suddenly grab a hold of your hips and grind your body into her your wife’s leg  hard.  You’re saying yes. To  all  of it. Because you can’t help but love it. Even if it seems too good to be true.

  “Look at how excited she’s getting Jean!” Miss Lisa’s adoring coos are causing you to lose yourself with every word she speaks. Her breath tickles your ear in a way that sends shivers up and down your body. That, coupled with the tiny sparkles of electricity now dancing across your hips as Miss Lisa guides the pace at which you ride your wife’s leg is enough to make you feel dizzy with pleasure in ways you never have experienced before. “I don’t know how you’re able to leave her at home every day. We should have planned this soon.”

  The way they both speak. To you and to each other, it’s so taboo. It’s so wrong. But now that you have it, you can’t help but realize how right she is.  How did you go so long without this?  You liked the thrill of doing it in your wife’s office. You liked the thrill of doing it for an audience. And you  loved  the thrill of doing both because they wanted to  share  you. And here, anyone could knock on the door and disrupt the moment. Either woman could be needed at any moment. Pulled away at the drop of a hat. You  liked  that. Even if the door was locked. Even if the whole building knew Jean was supposed to be taking a break. Even if the whole building knew that Miss Lisa had an important meeting right this second. 

  Something could happen. Something you wouldn’t be prepared for. Something exactly like this. And that  aroused  you. The excitement of someone seeing you as Jean’s easy little wife going stupid in the woman’s office. Her private time already getting spoiled by a Librarian who was never good at keeping her hands to herself. Someone come to learn just how  ready  you are   to bend over at Jean’s every command- even while someone is watching you. Even while someone is touching you. It’s becoming too much. The excitement of being what she  wanted - no, what they both  wanted  instead of taking a break. Instead of working. Instead of each other.

  And it’s all because of you.  You, you, you.

  “Yeah. She’s such a  good girl, isn’t she? ” The praise from your wife is purred in your ear, sending another round of shivers down your spine. It’s accompanied by the scribble of her pen across paper- showing that she’s still hard and fast at work as always. But by now, she moving her leg beneath you. Timing her movements with what Miss Lisa is guiding you into. Steadily gaining a shared rhythm with an occasion squeeze or stroke of your hip as motivation to keep your focus on what’s in front of you. Though their breaths are growing more labored. And their eyes are meeting yours more and more. They’re becoming impatient. They’re becoming eager. It’s all because of  you . “Just you wait. When I’m finished we’ll put you up on my desk. And then we’ll have some real fun. Does that sound good?”

  It does.

  It really, really does. So for now, you’ll bear it. You’ll bear your aching knees that keep you upright on Jean’s lap. You’ll bear your tired arms that are growing stiff from their place wrapped around Jean’s shoulders. You’ll bear the little jolts of electricity Miss Lisa throws at you just to get you squirming. You’ll bear Miss Lisa’s warm hands and her lewd whispers too. And you’ll bear the orgasm that’ll  never  come from just these simple motions alone. Because it’s what was asked of you. Because it’s what thrills you. Because it’s what she wanted to do. What they  both  wanted to do. And what you wanted to do too. But most of all? 

  Because it all feels too good to be true.