#when i try so hard to be nice i really do try so fucking hard to be as kind as i can but people still hate me

[ghouljams]

Some Ghost!Ghost that I wrote in a blind panic at midnight last night before collapsing back asleep. Minors DNI (cw: dubcon, somno)

Your cunt stretches around his cock, clenches around him like you can't get enough. Your body trying to keep him locked in place even in your sleep. he can see the soft pink walls of your pussy, the translucent cock that spears you open also giving your ghostly top an clear view of your insides. Your hips shift at the pressure of being filled, your knee moving from where you lay on your side to try and get comfortable. Look at you, so cute drooling against the pillow, arms wrapped around another as your silly little brain keeps you under the throws of sleep. Poor thing. It's a good thing Ghost is around to keep you safe when you're such a sound sleeper.

The burn of being stretched around his cock makes you whimper, the soft sound breathes out of you as Ghost fucks your pliant body. You're getting better about sleeping through his visits. Must be getting used to him, used to being filled by him. He wonders what you're dreaming about, if you're dreaming at all. Your soft lips part around delicate moans, hardly anything worth waking up over. It has to be him doesn't it? Perverse thing that you are, so willing to take his cock in the daylight even when you can't see him, do you dream about him too?

Some sick part of him purrs, pleased to know you're so easily trained, that your body welcomes him so nicely. But the part that's still human twists. He knows he shouldn't take advantage of your kindness like this. If he was a better man...

Well, if he was a better man he wouldn't be stuck in this terrible limbo in the first place. He wouldn't still have blood spilling from his slit throat. He wouldn't be fucking the sweet thing that's trying so hard to accommodate him in a house that's no longer his own.

Still, he thinks, better than the men that you've brought into the house. He's protecting you, really, by chasing them off. He's keeping you safe from their lecherous hands, their perverse glances and impure thoughts. He's keeping you satisfied so you don't try to seek satisfaction elsewhere. It's just the two of you here, no one else. He won't allow anyone else to know you like he does, to enjoy your kindness, your understanding, your body.

"There you go baby, big stretch," He murmurs, speaks in a voice he knows you'll never hear, when your brows scrunch the tiniest bit as he draws his cock out of your tight hole and presses it back into you, "you can take it, know you can." The warm clutch of your body is too much to resist, even when your skin seems to lose its heat wherever he touches you. He can't stop touching you, passing through your clothes to grope at your chest during the day, ghosting his fingers over your hips when you lay tile, his lips against your neck when you reach for something off a high shelf, his cock fucking you over the kitchen counter like the little trespassing whore you are.

You take it all so eagerly. Leave offerings for him, take his opinion, do you even know the strength you give him, the power. He wouldn't have been able to do this months ago, wouldn't have been able to sink into your slick cunt and hold himself up with a hand on your hip. Fuck you look so good when he spreads you open, tugs your folds out of the way with his thumb to watch the way you swallow him.

There is, he supposes, one nice thing about being dead: when you wake up in the morning with your pussy aching and sticky, you assume it must be from the wet dream you had last night.

[ybklix]

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ lee minho one shoot.

✦summary: You embark on an unusual night for you, as a companion to a wealthy stranger man with a cold countenance, a warm heart and a very hot form of affection.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / oral sex / spanking / hair pulling / chocking / ceo lee know x fem reader / non idol felix x fem reader / mention of sex workers, scort / sugar daddy

wc: 12.3k

one shoot (masterlist)

Money did buy happiness, you thought; if it did you would be in your mansion worth millions, you would use your money to buy contacts to get your dream job without having to sweat a drop and you wouldn't be standing there right now listening to the landlady, while she yells at you and reminds you how far behind you are in your payments.

It was humiliating and you had no other excuse to tell her, it was obvious she didn't give a shit how much you studied and worked at the same time and it still wasn't enough. She finally left, insulting you a couple of times and flattering herself for being a good person by letting you stay and giving you a space in a very rushed and busy city like this one, where millions of people are looking for a place to live every day.

You wanted to feel unashamed, carefree but you couldn't do it and everything was a thousand times more embarrassing when you were helping your best friend pack as she was moving to a new and better apartment. You knew Hari since you moved into the building three years ago, she was your neighbor and you were the same age so you two quickly liked each other... but the day had come, she was able to move on and was going to a nice place.

Hari watched the whole scene with a bit of sadness, knowing deep down what it felt like to go through exactly the same thing and hear the same old lady screaming. And, as she took one of her boxes to pass it to the mover she thought if after all this time it would be good to finally confess a secret to you… she was terrified of feeling judged but, she appreciated you too much that she really wanted to tell you.

You sighed without further ado, smiling and turning back to your friend.

—Hey, if you need… —Hari wanted to say but you interrupted her immediately.

—I'm fine, really.

You stared at her and gave her a fake smile. It wasn't new that you hated asking for help and that people feel sorry for you, first it was your male best friend who stupidly is a millionaire and now your best friend who you were supposed to share economic pains. You felt that everyone was moving forward but you, but you didn't want to be seen as a poor girl in distress, it was what you hated the most even though you appreciate their gestures and words in your heart, despite that. it's hard for you to take it, as well as thank them and…. express yourself.

—If you need anything you know you can count on m...?

—On you and Felix, I know.

You rolled your eyes trying to appear annoyed but you weren't, it was obvious, they always reminded you. And you were extremely grateful just at the thought that they cared about you. You were aware that one of the very good solutions was simply to start dating your rich best friend who you know likes you… but you weren't like that, unfortunately, you were too proud to accept easy money.

—You should give him a chance —Hari added.

—I think I'm fucked up enough to fall in love and add another worry.

Felix was sweet, caring, attractive and incredibly wealthy, you met him in college as he was studying cinematography. And you were studying performing arts, actress, your biggest dream. Strangely enough, you and Felix connected instantly in a course where you coincided, and you got along very well forming a nice friendship; he had a big and pure heart and was not at all the typical brainless rich kid, however you were the opposite of him, reserved and a bit pessimistic about life and clearly… in some big and tight economic problems. You couldn't count the countless times Felix offered to help you financially, but you simply felt you were abusing the power of your cute and cuddly best friend.

He would offer you money, he would offer you one of his properties, all paid vacations, you knew it was every girl's dream and that if you told anyone other than Hari about all this, they would be sure to slap you and call you ‘stupid’ to your face. You recognized that he was all a dream come true and that was what you feared the most, that you might be a nightmare for him, your personalities were different and most of all, you felt so bad that you didn't have something to offer him; you felt it looked so wrong to be just him trying so hard even though you were trying twice as hard too and sometimes it seemed in vain.

Moreover, you were quite realistic and recognized well that guys like Felix, wealthy and from a long line of millionaire ancestors, a simple girl like you wasn't enough, and you could never end up with someone like him.

Hari laughed at your comment.

—Love isn't so bad... have you ever been in love?

You looked at her perplexed, almost wanting to laugh in her face; Hari in love was a concept you didn't know.

—Have you? —you asked, emphasizing your shock.

Your friend just looked at you amused and continued her duty of clearing out her old home. She was nervous, she had a solution for you but wasn't sure if it was an option for you.

After a few hours of exhaustive work like moving your whole life to another place, both of you contemplated the completely empty apartment where you used to spend nights together having sleepovers. Hari sighed, ready to confess something no one else knew.

—Y/n —she spoke to you.

You made a sound indicating you were listening, but you weren't really, you couldn't stop looking at that wall, thinking about what you had to do as soon as possible to get extra money. Hari called your name again until this time she caught your attention, so you turned to look at her; she felt nervousness and wanted to swallow for a second, you furrowed your brow at her sudden strange reaction.

—If I tell you something, promise you won't judge.

—Of course —you quickly answered without thinking, her behavior seemed odd, but suddenly you were so curious to know.

She looked at you with big eyes of ‘I'm serious’, while you returned the look more than obvious.

—What is it about?

Hari took a breath, hesitant, and suddenly she had all your attention.

—Have you ever wondered how suddenly I get all this, finally moving, nicer clothes...? —she replied with another question.

You furrowed your brow and tilted your head a bit confused, not meaning to offend, but your friend's life wasn't something you were so concerned about since you saw her completely normal, it wasn't something to be alarmed about, every time you met she was still the same... you wondered if there was suddenly something you didn't notice and that you should feel like a bad friend about.

—Did you get a big promotion at your job...? —you speculated without an answer.

She smiled mockingly.

—There's someone —she finally spat out, unable to express it entirely.

You got excited, those words meant she was dating someone of whom you didn't know details and suddenly it excited you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and turned your whole body towards her, looking at her straight ahead, enthusiastic.

—Oh my God, Hari, why didn't you...

—Or something like that —she cut you off abruptly.

Again, you looked at her confused, this time waiting for her to start talking. Hari looked at the floor and finally said:

—I have someone who gives me money.

Silence embraced you, you didn't know what to say so you just laughed incredulously letting out a little air, Hari quickly looked at you with her expressive eyes of ‘you promised not to judge’, so you hurried to say:

—A sugar daddy or something like that? Well… good for you, I guess.

—I think you need one —she cut off your sarcastic comment so now you laughed out loud— Being a companion.

—No thanks, I have enough dealing with Felix and his specific complex —you scoffed.

—I think you're not getting it… I don't know how to explain it but, I can live my life for 5 years without working a single day.

You were in denial and totally ready to continue to contradict and mock your friend until that comment caught you by surprise.

—Wow, well that's… —you closed your eyes deeply trying to process the kind of conversation you were having— I think you're exaggerating a bit here…

—No —she interrupted you again—, this is different, I think you reject Felix because you know him and… these are just unknown men willing to pay a lot of money.

—Do you really think you can give that kind of power to a man, of just giving you money without him expecting anything in return? —you added without thinking.

Silence returned… and it was when everything made sense and you understood that Hari did give something in return. You didn't want to say it out loud, but suddenly your best friend was a prostitute; you were really surprised. You couldn't help but open your eyes in surprise. Hari felt the need to explain herself before feeling judged.

—They are really wealthy men, it's something really exclusive and selective, you can choose and…

You dissociated and stopped listening for a second, did they have methods? What did she mean? Why would she believe in the first place that you would be part of something like that?

—And are you with someone or do you have multiple relationships…? —you interrupted her.

You had no idea why you cared about that, you weren't a saint to judge, but maybe it was just curiosity. Hari rolled her eyes annoyed.

—At first a few until I finally found someone, I’m telling you it's surprising what can happen; so far it's him, he gave me the apartment, he'll decorate it and-

You closed your eyes again incredulously.

—He bought you the apartment? I thought you rented it.

—I had to lie.

—And what happens when your fantasy and money run out? —you said mercilessly.

Hari smiled, you were too honest and straightforward sometimes.

—Well, I don't think that will happen for a long time and… Chan and I reached an agreement that I could work in his company as much as I want, even if our relationship ends and he stops supporting me.

—Oh, so he has a name and now you're dating.

—It's complicated, I like him but it's obvious that guys like him don't end up with the poor girl like a a TV show.

And with a hooker, you thought. At least you were grateful that after all the senseless chatter something with common reasoning came out of your friend's mouth. You really had nothing against what she was doing, it just took you by surprise.

Hari sighed.

—I know you don't believe me, but do you remember that time months ago when we went out to eat and jokingly I showed you the meager ₩50,000 in my bank account?

You nodded, still perplexed and cautious about what she might show you now. Hari took her phone and in a few swift movements with her fingers, handed it to you, displaying on the screen an incredible amount that made you sigh just seeing it. You couldn't believe it. How was it possible for someone to have so much money? Why would they give it to Hari?

—I think it's dangerous, maybe it's just sex with strangers but in exchange for that ridiculous amount… I don't know, you shouldn't trust strangers like that.

Hari opened her mouth, offended, as she took her phone back.

—It's not always sex, it's about companionship.

You pursed your lips, unable to believe it; maybe for old men with erectile dysfunction, you thought, but somehow or another, they are men looking for something.

—I'm just giving you an option to give it a chance. It's a really exclusive app, you even send your data to be accepted; it also comes with details of the people offering money for you, how they are, how much, and you can reject them all, you're in control. Come on, y/n, desperate times call for desperate measures…

—I wouldn't categorize it that way, no thanks, Hari, I'm not that desperate, and by the way, how did you find out?

—I went to a party months ago and overheard a couple of unknown girls talking about it, it changed my life —she quickly checked her phone again—. I have to go, he came for me, but think about it, okay? Just out of curiosity, like I did until I saw a really impressive amount. Also, they specify if they want companionship or something more…

You rolled your eyes annoyed, it was crazy, you thought that Hari could live anonymously but your dream was to be an actress, what were you supposed to do if they ever found out that you practically sold yourself. Both of you left the apartment and stood there in the hallway for a few seconds.

—Do you want to meet Chan?

Your attention returned to your friend as soon as she said those words and confusedly you thought in your mind “who?” until you realized who she was talking about. You were curious, you expected an older man but you were surprised to see that shiny black luxury truck and inside of it, an attractive young adult driving, he looked no more than thirty, or maybe less than forty. You had descended all those floors to meet the person your friend was talking about with enthusiasm and you were too surprised.

Chan got out of the car as soon as he saw Hari and opened the passenger door for her.

—She's my friend, y/n —your friend introduced you.

—Pleasure to meet you —you shook hands.

You were in absolute surprise and denial, suddenly everything started to feel like just a fever dream. You felt the heavy gaze of your friend's ‘partner’ and for a second you wondered if he was really the guy who slept with girls for money or the chauffeur of the lucky handsome rich man.

You gave him a small smile and Chan quickly looked at Hari with complicit eyes, silently asking if you knew who he was in her life to which Hari almost reading his mind nodded softly.

—I'll see you another day, goodbye —your friend said goodbye with a strong hug which you were too astonished to reciprocate.

And they both left, leaving you standing on the cold pavement of the parking lot with your thoughts floating.

You returned to your apartment with a million questions, questioning almost your existence. Imagining the possibility of getting into that silly app, you thought for a second that Hari must have had the greatest luck in the world to get the only handsome man in the whole system, whom you wouldn't be disgusted to sleep with even for a second. You thought if you really should pay attention to Felix, fall in love with him, live with him… but you shook your head vigorously to dismiss that idea, it was almost impossible not to fall in love with him but you didn't feel bitchy and cynical enough to take advantage of his love and money at the same time. You knew it was cruel and that he should be looking for someone because you understood each of his signals, and it was obvious that he was crazy about you but among the boring and miserable life you led, his attention was the only thing that kept you motivated.

You couldn't sleep and little by little you convinced yourself more, sex with a stranger? It shouldn't be so bad, having the same amount of money as Hari? it was such a bright dream for you. You could pay off your debts, look for a better place, and free yourself from the visit of the little witch every week. Now you were curious… if it was really reliable and if all your information was highly confidential.

You didn't even check the time and sent Hari a message: «How high security are we talking about in that app?» She replied «I'll tell you everything tomorrow» you noticed your friend's excitement when you realized how quickly she responded.

Until the next day arrived and after work you visited her new and remodeled apartment. It was unreal, you were breathless, the beautiful view and large windows, the harmony of its decoration, it was so bright to be true that if you managed to have money in this situation that you were about to get into, you wanted to keep it realistic, you were afraid that from one day to the next, you would have nothing, so changing your life drastically without having a fixed support was not an option for you, it wouldn't be something long term, just something to get you out of your soon predicament.

They sat on the sofa in her spacious living room which was almost the size of your entire apartment.

—Do you want me to manage your account just to verify the data and all that?

You nodded, you weren't sure what you were about to do, but there you were.

—Okay, all your data is done, they'll send you an e-nail confirmation and let you know if you've been selected to enjoy the app's services. So…

You swallowed, watching as they wrote all your data to a strange email, your name, date of birth, occupation, your measurements, your physical appearance, number of sexual partners, if you've had any STDs and attach evidence that you're 100% clean, history of alcoholism and smoking…

—I think it's illegal for them to ask for so much data.

—Don't worry, it'll be worth it.

—Are you sure I won't end up in… some dark business? —you whispered the last sentence, terrified and nervous.

—Noo, you'll get all the data from the men who want to hire you, even their address while yours is never exposed.

—I don't know, Hari, men naturally lie.

Hari chuckled softly, sensing your nervousness.

—I'll put up a picture of you and send it, and…

—Wait, what?

—I sent it —she looked at you proudly—. It can take 24 to 48 hours to respond.

Hours passed, and you were heating up your dinner when a call from Hari interrupted your time.

—You got approved, it was really fast. I'll come to see you.

She hung up, and you took your food out of the microwave totally bewildered. An hour later, amid the serene night with little rain, your friend appeared at your door with a big smile.

—Why are you so excited? I'm literally about to sell my vagina to wetpussy.com.

Hari laughed.

—But that will make you a millionaire overnight.

—Mm —you expressed in disgust and let her in.

—I can't believe it was so fast, they really want you. You have the option to put your real name or a fake one, your real name you can only give if you want.

—Please, a fake one.

You were really regretting it.

—What name should I put you?

—I don't know, just not mine.

—Cheryl, like darling in French —she wrote with a smile—… except I need pictures…

—Come on, I sent you the best ones.

—I know, and you look spectacular, but there's an option where the money goes directly to your bank account once they unlock the function to see your photos…

You felt like she didn't finish the sentence and you were a little annoyed by the situation, it irritated you to know that you had to do this, well, you didn't have to, and no one was forcing you, but you decided to do it.

—And?

—They're spicy photos.

—Absolutely not, is it necessary to do that?

—Your face can't be seen, and the money goes directly to you. Every time someone opens the option, you get paid ₩10 million, well, it depends on how much the app values you.

You were in denial until you almost regurgitated your dinner.

—That's an absurd amount.

—I told you I wasn't joking, I didn't know what they were based on but according to Chan, they're based on dollars or something like that, so for them, it's quite little.

—Fuck, does Chan have more sugar babies? Because if he continues, he'll go bankrupt.

—I told you they're not ordinary people and they have to specify what they want, if you ever feel like they disrespect you and don’t follow what was previously established, you have every right to fine them and report them.

—And make it a public legal issue? No thanks.

—Then…

—Well, I guess I have nothing to lose by taking a few lingerie photos, without showing my face!

[…]

There you were, in the mall at a lingerie store on your day off, trying to find the best pieces that scream “classy slut”, you were so terrified, it means they must be men with a lot of money and extreme loneliness and desperation, so the least you could do was pretend to feel sorry for them and look pretty in a nice set.

You were spending your money on something you hoped would soon multiply by millions, until the sound of your phone startled you because you were so focused that you felt like you were doing something illegal. It was Felix.

—Hey.

—Hey, where are you? It's your day off, right? —he said.

—Yes… I'm at the mall.

You couldn't lie to him, the music and sound of people were so audible.

—At the usual one? It can't be, I'm here too, I'm buying a birthday present for Olivia, I wanted to ask you to help me.

—Well if you want to wait…

—Where exactly are you? I'll come find you.

You didn't want to see him, you felt so guilty accepting dirty money from strangers and not the one he always offered you in the purest way without asking for anything in return, you felt terrible.

—I'm at… –you looked around trying to find another store to run away when he's near, but you couldn't—. Buying lingerie on the second floor.

You told him the truth, you didn't think he would come. And you've always been someone without filters, except when it comes to Felix, only with him do you have a soft spot. There was a little silence.

—Do you have a date?

His voice suddenly became serious and his tone of enthusiasm vanished.

—Well, it's complicated —you grimaced but he couldn't see you.

—I'm coming over there.

Felix hung up on you suddenly and you just let out a sigh; you couldn't guess where he was to calculate his time and leave the store and meet him outside, but you really needed that outfit, your last nudes were taken when you were in high school when you did your first sexting with a guy in your class, who was a nice guy, Kim Seungmin from your science class, you fucked him in the basketball gym closet and he never ever told anyone, nor showed your nudes; but the situation was already twisted enough without putting up your old photos from when you were a minor, plus the light and angles weren't fancy enough to be worth 10 million won.

You rushed to find something fast and before you knew it, Felix had already arrived.

—I like that one —he said in his deep voice close to your ear taking you by surprise.

You turned to see him, today he looked cuter than usual, he had his hands clasped behind his back and a small smile on his sweet face.

—Felix… —you whispered.

—So, what's the occasion? Who are you going to wear that for? —he mumbled.

He wanted to hide his irritation in a soft tone, but he couldn't, he was annoyed.

—Oh, it's nothing, I just have to update my closet.

—Then buy whatever you want and I'll pay for it —you were about to speak and he gently raised his index finger in objection—. Is it bothering you that I'm here? I can leave you my credit card and wait for you outside.

Felix looked around innocently, he was surrounded by women's underwear and women. You smiled warmly at him.

—No, actually you can help me.

You liked to play with Felix a little, you adored watching the way his face would lift and light up all over, his ears would perk up a little and his round eyes would get bigger, as happy as a loyal puppy. Objectively yes he could help you, he was also an incredibly wealthy man, you thought maybe all millionaires shared the same neuron or tastes to get them turned on.

—I'm between this one and this one —you showed him the pairs you had selected.

—Take both of them. Or as many as you want.

You wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, you were suffocating to the idea of what you were going to do; you loved shopping but today….

—Come on, take some more, your closet won't be filled with just two —Felix added.

You smiled at him and chose a few more so he would stop talking and you could leave at once. Felix paid without any problem while the cashier looked at you with contempt and envy when she saw the pretty boy who accompanied you, slim, elegant, blond with long hair and an innocent face bathed in freckles.

—Thank you, Lix —you gave him a quick kiss on his soft, rosy cheek.

If Felix had a dog's tail, you were sure he'd be wagging it vividly and endlessly with happiness.

—Have you eaten yet? Let's go get something to eat… —he mentioned excitedly, turning to look at you.

—Mm, later, now I'll help you choose the gift for your sister.

—Oh, yes, sure, what do you think, Cartier or Tiffany? Although Van Cleef is very fashionable among young girls. And maybe a Dior bag, I think it's her favorite brand; my father will give her her first Birkin so my bag will be like a toy, I don't know what to give her.

You rolled your eyes playfully, Felix was talking and you were listening.

[…]

—Do you wanna go to my place? There's a movie I want to see. Only you would listen to me while I pause the movie every 5 minutes to make a comment.

Felix spoke while he was driving, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye and noticed you distracted; you couldn't help it, you thought to yourself that you have to take good pictures and that maybe soon your pussy will be tasting a stranger's cock, for money, which made your hair stand on end. You came out of your trance when you realized Felix spoke.

—Yes, it's okay.

You needed a distraction. And you missed movie nights —and commentary— with Felix, your best filmmaker friend.

—What are you doing on Saturday? You should go to Olivia's party, she's having a themed party after dinner with us; I don't know what her theme is yet, but I'll let you know. Olivia remembers you and likes you very much.

Felix suggested trying to get your attention. You didn't even have to think about it, Felix's younger sister was a sweetheart like him, it was his older sister who was a tough crowd, you knew she didn't like you and that she thought you only hung out with her brother for his money, she almost fainted when she found out you were on scholarship and lived in a middle class neighborhood. It was enough for you to know that Felix drove you everywhere, that was too much for you.

—I'll think about it… I have a deadline this Sunday for a report.

He pressed his lips together, knowing you were lying, but he didn't blame you, he thought maybe it would be too much pressure to meet his family.

—So… Are you going to tell me who you're going to wear that lingerie for? Is it someone from the university that I know? —Felix tried to be subtle, but he was dying to know who was going to touch you other than him.

You and Felix had almost done it for multiple times but you always stopped yourself, you couldn't do it because you were afraid he would do it so well and so sweetly that you would end up falling in love with him. He loved the way you made him completely horny, almost cumming in his pants.

And then you had a great idea, if you were going to get into that business you had to be cool and think it would only be a simple fuck, you wouldn't concentrate on anything but feeling a hard cock in your pussy… so you had to fuck Felix right now, there was no other way to prove you were an insensitive bitch than to fuck the only man you have ever felt love and respect for.

You tried to get flirtatious and quickly changed your mood.

—Maybe you're right, he's someone you know very well.

You spoke slowly and seductively, staring at him, you must have recognized that you really have a very attractive best friend, he quickly noticed your heavy look and the change of mood, so he swallowed nervously and looked at you surprised with opening his pretty eyes in pity and that didn't help you at all, he looked fucking cute when he was like that.

—Oh yeah? —he added playfully looking sideways and running his tongue along the inside of his cheeks.

You moved closer to him and brushed his cheek with the tip of your nose seductively, while your left hand traveled dangerously from his thigh to his crotch where you massaged his growing bulge.

—Let's go to your place and you tell me what you think of each of the sets you bought me, for him.

You noticed the irregularity of Felix's breathing, you didn't want to act clumsy and end up fucking him in the car, even though it was incredibly spacious enough… but you knew that when Felix was aroused and totally yielding to your charms and touches, he wasn't thinking clearly.

—Let's listen to music while we wait —you added amused.

You moved away from him and played music through the screen of his modern car, almost letting out a giggle, you didn't know if Felix hated you for that or was just turned on and, for him it was the second option, all the way he was uncomfortable with his pants drowning his cock, but he didn't know how to ask you nicely that if possible you could give him a handjob right there, to which he concluded that there was no decent way to say it so he waited until finally arriving at his pent-house.

As you entered the elevator you both kissed desperately, you almost smiled between the kisses knowing how much fun it would be to finally taste your best friend. Felix was holding all the shopping bags tightly, or at least he was trying to, he wanted to keep his hands on your waist and glued you to him, so once you reached his apartment, he let go of the bags and kept kissing you mercilessly, it felt so good, his warm hands on your waist, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth and your lips joined with a huge appetite. You realized he wanted to take control and if he did, you would end up making love slowly and not just fucking, so you gently pushed him away, he saw you confused with puffy lips and a look of lust.

—Let me show you how good it all looks on me.

You gave him a quick kiss and took his hand, directing him to the couch where he sat.

He licked his lips as he bit them, stretched out his arms and settled back, trying to ignore his throbbing sex. He loved the way you played with it.

You took the first piece of black full body lace lingerie. You undressed in front of him and slowly and painfully slipped it on, Felix was struggling with his immense desire to make you his.

—Help me.

You dropped onto his lap pretending to have trouble putting the garment on, you were so wet, you wanted to feel him like you had never wanted to feel him before. Felix put his hands on your body and quickly reached for your pussy, pulling the tight, thin fabric away from your center and began to play with your clit. You moaned, losing control of your initial plan as you were surrendered to his touch.

You unbuttoned his pants, removing them and his underwear in exasperation. And there was your friend's hard, firm cock lightly lubricated in semen, as nice and thin as he was, it looked exquisite, and you were going to ride it so well.

—Felix, the condom —you practically begged.

He gasped at the touch of your hand and firm grip, “over there,” he mumbled pointing to a cabinet with a drawer, you thought for a second if he fucks regularly or why he had condoms in accessible and strategic places. You walked by the condom, feeling your wetness with every step and positioned yourself in front of him, your knees on either side of his thighs.

—You should take pictures of me, with each of the lingerie, exclusively for you; I want you to know that I'm really grateful every time you do something nice for me —you stared at him as you opened the wrapper.

You put the condom on him, you could see how gorgeous, red and swollen his cock was ready for you, and slowly, carefully pulling the fabric apart, you sat on it, inserting it and feeling every inch as you went down.

—Shit, y/n, move for me —Felix gasped.

You moaned as you felt it buried in your pussy and began to enjoy yourself endlessly, jumping on his erection as each squat made you lose your breath. Felix held you tightly by the waist, accentuating each movement. You gave yourself thrusts leaning on his thighs and, when you felt his cock throbbing and his body getting weaker and weaker indicating his orgasm, you hugged him on his shoulders and kept moving your hips and ass with agility.

Felix completely agreed that you would take control and held your ass helping you a little until, between gasps and almost crying, Felix finally cummed. You were so possessed by adrenaline, you could feel your orgasm so close, that you accelerated your squats and held your breath for a second until you finally exploded in a sea of sighs and glistening fluid.

You dropped your tired body on Felix's shoulder, feeling his scent and immediately regretted it, it had been amazing, but you always thought the first time you would fuck Felix would be so sweet, on a warm day, maybe in spring, involving roses and a date… not in such a dirty way on a cold October night on his living room couch.

—You know I like you a lot, y/n. Let's stay that way.

And you said something really stupid, something you had no intention of saying. You wondered what he meant, whether to continue to stay like this fucking, or cuddling?

—I like you too.

You kept hiding in his neck, you were a coward who can't accept that you were capable of feeling something for someone.

And if that wasn't enough to make you feel bad, he gave you the sweetest cuddles once you came out of his cock, he tended you carefully and told you how pretty you looked.

After that he took your long awaited pictures and after taking your last one, he made sure to reward you so well that he ended up eating your pussy.

You ended the night by taking a shower together, and fucking you again in there; you watched the movie while he commented on each annotation he made, but Felix fell asleep halfway through, in your arms. You didn't know what to do, you didn't know if you were going to continue that way with him and you still weren't ready to take the big step of accepting his money just because suddenly you go out and he gives you everything, his sister already hated you… what would people think; you cared more about your situation with him than about what they would think if I slept with a stranger for money situation, although, nobody had to know it was for money, if somehow someone found out, you could say it was just a fuck, you thought.

So, resigned to the fact that you still had to pay your rent, you sent the pictures to Hari, to which she quickly replied with a «wow! I got em» Thirty minutes later, a screenshot of what your profile looked like, it was embarrassing for you. «I'll be sure to get you the best deals😉», she wrote back.

The next morning you woke up in Felix's bed, wearing his clothes; he must have moved you and you hadn't even noticed, you reached for your phone and couldn't believe your eyes, notifications from your bank account app, you had received ₩ 40 million.

You were ready to tell Hari that you had enough with what you were getting just for the pictures, you couldn't believe it.

[…]

And, on the other side of the city, in one of the best, luxurious and exclusive hotels in the place, the hotel owner himself, the young and wealthy Hwang Hyunjin and his friend who fit in the same category as him, Lee Minho, were having brunch.

—Ah, Lee Minho, he can finally have brunch with you in his busy schedule —Hyunjin told him.

Hyunjin had arrived and Minho was waiting for him, sitting in one of the hotel's restaurants next to the large window with a view of the city. Hyunjin was more into art, but being the only son of his powerful father who owned hotel chains, he gave him that one right on his 18th birthday, since then Hyunjin has taken more than good care of it, and decorates it in his favorite pieces of art, his favorite part.

Minho stood up to greet him, shaking hands and a quick hug.

—Busy me? If it's you who's going around the country with your galleries —Minho replied, sitting down.

—I know, I know, it's unbelievable. Have you ordered lunch yet?

—Yes.

—I'll order the same —Hyunjin shouted to his employee as he sat in his chair facing Minho.

—Big day tomorrow, huh? —added Minho.

—Of course, you have to be there, I even left the presidential suite just for you.

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair clasping his hands together with a smile on his face. Minho laughed softly.

—I don't get ready in hotels anymore.

—Well, do it for me this time, like old times. Besides… you have a plus one to my gallery event.

Minho's soft, amused look tensed a little when he heard his friend.

—Oh yeah? Well, I think I'll go alone.

—In fact it's mandatory that you go with someone, so I got you that someone.

—No thanks, I'd rather not go.

Hyunjin smiled sideways seeing how cute his friend was getting when he was getting into his temper.

—It's a girl, but if you want a boy you have to tell me before tonight —he joked.

—Why can't I be your date then?

—I'm sorry, I'm already going with someone tomorrow. But I think it's time for you to start seeing more people.

Minho gave him a dirty look, he didn't want to have that conversation at their meeting after weeks of not being aware of their lives.

—I'm fine, I'm busy.

—When was the last time you fucked someone? —Hyunjin blurted out in amusement trying to smooth the conversation.

—It's none of your business.

—I'll take that as you haven't done it in a long time.

—If you care so much why don't you fuck me in the suite.

Hyunjin laughed, gently touching his nose, though deep down he believed this was no time for joking… or at least it was a little since he didn't know how to tell him what he had to say.

—I would but you'd have to pay back every penny I spent on the pretty girl.

—You paid money to a girl to sleep with me against my will? Artists are weird, I thought we were in the 21st century.

Hyunjin couldn't hold it in anymore so he licked his lips and finally confessed:

—Soyul will be there.

Minho's smirk left his face little by little and his heart almost stopped when he heard after so long the name of his ex-girlfriend; and that was exactly what Hyunjin was referring to and of the expression on his friend's part that Hyunjin feared for. He couldn't lie to him, Soyul was one of his biggest investors, she had to be present and he couldn't fool his friend; he knew he still wasn't over her, not even after two long years since their breakup; in fact, the idea of getting him someone started a few weeks ago, at their meeting where a drunken Minho confessed to him in tears the deep pain and misery he felt after the one he considered the love of his life left him. That was for Hyunjin the straw that broke the camel's back, he was not going to see his friend depressed.

—So? —Minho tried to sound nonchalant.

—She's going with her boyfriend… and I think you're still not over her….

—And you decided to hire a hooker? That's why you left me the suite, isn't it, motherfucker?

—She's not a-, well, if you don't want to fuck her, don't, just let her keep you company at my event.

—Weren't the regular girls available?

—All the normal girls in our social circle know Soyul and let's face it, they are very gossipy, it will be embarrassing for you for them to know that you haven't moved on with….

—I can go alone —he interrupted him, he couldn't bear to hear him say his ex-girlfriend's name one more time.

—Come on, Minho, give yourself a chance, she is really pretty, she is an actress and….

—A porn actress? —he interrupted him, not taking it seriously.

Meanwhile, their waitress was delivering their food and drinks, trying to act normal after overhearing the conversation.

—She's a real actress. I'll text you all her information. She's a Scorpio like you if you care about zodiac signs.

Minho didn't answer, he didn't feel like dealing with anything else.

—They're freaky —Hyunjin spoke as he picked up his cutlery, Minho frowned—. Scorpios. They say they’re good in bed.

[...]

—I got you something wonderful.

Hari suddenly appeared with a huge smile at your work.

—Hello to you too?

—Can you take a break?

—I'll be back in 5 —you shouted and took off your apron to go out with your friend.

—I'm about to close a deal, I think you should have the money by now. You have to quit your job now, you have a date on Saturday.

You were perplexed.

—Hari, what did you do? —you felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

And there it was, your bank account with an imaginable amount, you opened your mouth in surprise, this was starting to get serious with an amount like that.

—I told you.

—But who is it? What does he look like? —you didn't know how to react.

—Don't worry, they are Chan's friends, they are 100% reliable.

—Is it more than one? —you opened your eyes in surprise.

—It's not… it’s complicated, a friend of Chan's, Hyunjin hired you for his friend Minho, who said he agreed, he just didn't use the app. I wanted to negotiate for him to pay for both of them but I guess he was pretty generous. Anyway, he just wants you to accompany Minho to Hyunjin's exclusive exhibition and pretend to be in a relationship with him for at least two hours?

It was a lot of information to process, you didn't know what to say.

—Hyunjin will explain more in detail but seriously you have to go otherwise you will be fined that same amount paid and a little more. You can leave as soon as you feel uncomfortable since apparently Minho has a strong personality.

—Believe me, I'll leave as soon as I walk through the door.

[…]

There you were on your Saturday night, standing in front of the door of a luxurious hotel, you walked in and met the handsome young man who was in charge of filling your bank account. You walked shyly toward him and greeted him with embarrassment. His dress code was clear: a short black dress fitted to your silhouette, comfortable shoes and normal underwear. He was going to dress you.

You looked at him, there he was, the famous Hwang Hyunjin himself from the large dynasty of the Hwangs, very influential people; he was taller than you, he had sharp eyes and thick lips, he was more attractive in person and he had to tell you the same.

—You look spectacular, chérie —he mentioned flirtatiously—. Come here —he invited you to come closer and you did.

You weren't a big fan of this, but you had to admit that something inside you grew and made you feel incredibly horny, the atmosphere of the hotel, the tense silence and the incredibly handsome man in front of you, in addition to your submissive behavior… rarely turned you on a bit.

—Do you want me to call you a make up artist or your make up it’s fine? —he gently touched your hair.

You looked up to see him.

—I think, it’s okay like this.

You were nervous and slightly horny.

You did your best job with your make up and hair already, the make up was natural and elegant but still visible, matte nude eyeshadow, sharp eyeliner, elongated lashes, soft blush and lipgloss. Your hair was styled with soft waves.

—Great, so we don’t waste more time. You look beautiful already, actually you look better than the photos —he put his hands in his pants pockets and looked at you up and down biting his lip—. The dress is ready in the room, but you know what actually, bring it right here. Dress in front of me.

Hyunjin was already aroused and was fighting his instincts to seduce and touch you, yet you were his friend's tonight, but he thought it only fair to see first what he had paid for. He sat comfortably on the couch and waited for you to return. On the other hand you were more than nervous and strangely agitated with excitement, that dark-haired man dressed in a tight suit all white because that was the theme of the party and finally there it was, a dress whose style and logo you could recognize so well. A white Versace mini dress that you assumed would fit to your mid thighs, you thought you had only seen that style in black so it was strange to see it in the brand's signature pearl white; until you saw the name Hyunjin embroidered on the label, was it designed for you? A shiny black Jimmy Choo silhouette heels, and a white crossbody bag from the same designer of the dress, you were speechless, so amazed that you almost forgot Hyunjin's request, he wanted you to change in front of him, then you saw something that terrified you, a beautiful white lingerie that went perfect under the dress, he wanted to see you naked.

You wanted it to be quick, almost like pulling off a bandit, so you tried to take everything and brought it close to him where you found him sitting on the couch ready for his little private show. You undid your black dress at the bottom so as not to ruin your hair and unthinkingly removed your underwear. Hyunjin was engrossed, he wondered why he didn't choose you, but for him after seeing your naked body. He was struggling as hard as he could to keep an erection from appearing in his pants, but it was too late.

You took off your low sandals ready to put on your underwear but he interrupted you.

—Let me help you.

He took the garment and squatted down while helping you slide your panties to your area. Hyunjin enjoyed every second of the soft touch of your legs and then stood up to help you fasten your strapless bra. You could feel the tension in the air so you just bit your lip, resisting his hot touches and his warm breath on the back of your neck.

Finally you put on your dress and heels and you looked completely different, you never thought you would get to wear something like that to a type of event you don't frequent. You awkwardly moved the things from your bag to the new one and tried to regain your sanity.

—Something's missing —he spoke and grabbed your left wrist.

Hyunjin put on you the characteristic white clover bracelet with gold from the refined Van Cleef jewelry.

—Well, you've seen Minho. This is the key and it's two floors up from here —he added, handing you the access card—. I want to see the two of you together in the gallery, he may even could offer you the double of money so you can leave, but please, you have to go with him.

Hyunjin now spoke in a commanding tone giving you instructions, his hot moment had passed, he had to concentrate.

—And please… let me know if you and Minho fuck, if the idiot doesn't touch you we can maybe go to…. how about Santorini?

It seemed that you had your feelings locked in a box and that you acted according to a fever dream. You thought you were an actress and could get out of it easily, you just had to act. Your role was now about a rich girl wannabe.

You entered the room unannounced as instructed by Hyunjin and took a few steps forward until Minho heard the door open, interrupting his grooming time so he came out of his room wrapped in a towel and still with slightly wet hair.

—I didn't order room serv… —he said.

Minho stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at you standing there. You didn't know what to do, you were frozen in place; you looked at him, he looked handsome and was half naked, except for the towel covering his private parts, you couldn't help seeing him, his worked body, muscular arms but not exaggerated, his abdomen marked with a small scar above his navel and…. you felt bad but you thought he was looking directly at you too, his marked penis above the white towel. Minho smiled sideways at your nerve to look at him and could tell your mild surprise as you looked at his package, a valid reaction he thought.

—You're in the wrong room or are you lost?

Minho could predict why you were there, after all you could only get in with the key. He looked at you sternly waiting for an answer. You took a breath and spoke.

—I will be your companion today at the art exhibition.

Minho laughed and let out a breath.

—I don't remember ordering a hooker either. That fucker Hyunjin sent you, didn’t he?

The term took you by surprise and you were offended, you were about to defend yourself when he continued speaking.

—Seriously, you can go, I'll pay you more than whatever that bastard gave you, just go —he waved his hands in a gesture for you to leave.

—I won't.

—Will you make me call security?

—Do it —you challenged.

Minho exhaled in annoyance and touched his forehead in concern.

—I'm going to kill Hwang Hyunjin.

Without another word he went back to his room and thirty minutes later he came out ready dressed in a white suit with his serious expression. He looked at you for a few seconds with contempt as he passed by you and headed towards his door ready to leave, you ran towards him, leaving at the same time.

—I don't know what Hyunjin is up to but when I see him I'll….

He was expressing himself annoyed until more people entering the elevator interrupted him.

—I'll get my car keys —he said to you indifferently as he walked away towards the hotel counter.

You followed Minho, keeping a distance; you glanced around, being able to see from the huge waiting room to the large entrance to the restaurant where you could also see and your heart stopped for a moment when you spotted a long dyed blonde hair sitting at one of the tables. You turned quickly, hoping he couldn't see you, but as if fate would have it, you managed to see him leave his seat and approach the foyer. In panic you slipped into the waiting room where you sat with your back turned.

Felix went straight to Minho.

—Lee Minho —he blond greeted him enthusiastically.

—Hey, Yongbokkie, what brings you here.

Minho turned to look at Felix and frowned when he saw that you were no longer behind his back, he looked at you for a few seconds until he deduced that you might have finally run away, which made him happy and disappointed at the same time.

—It's Olivia's birthday dinner.

—Oh, congratulate her for me —the blond smiled at him.

—Are you about to leave? —Felix said.

—Yes, I'm going to Hyunjin's.

—Sure, sure, maybe I'll stop by later.

Minho just smiled at him and asked a few more trivial questions about his parents.

—Mr. Lee, your car is outside waiting for you —the interrupted them.

—I have to go Felix, I'll see you later.

—Of course.

You were hiding, praying that Felix wouldn't recognize your hair and suddenly you saw him chatting with your 'date' for tonight, apparently they were friends so you felt more terrified, what if by chance Minho decides to tell Felix? Oh you would be ruined. After the short talk you saw Minho leaving towards the exit so once again you slipped away almost running to catch up with Minho. He was surprised to see you back by his side. Minho said,

—Mm, the night was just starting to get nice when I thought you had left.

You gave him a dirty look and followed him to his car where you sat in the passenger seat. When Minho put on his seat belt he noticed the shiny gold detail on the strap of your dress, it was the medusa logo characteristic of that high fashion Italian brand.

—The bastard dressed you in Versace, you already look more like his than mine.

You stood still not knowing what to say, it was maybe the first nice thing he had said to you during all your short time together.

Minho inspected you quickly, he was so upset that his friend didn’t lie, and just like Hyunjin said, you were a really pretty girl.

—But he didn't put earrings on you, if you're going to come with me you have to look your best.

Once again he spoke in a resigned tone and arrived at Tiffany's jewelry store. Minho was resigned to the fact that you would accompany him tonight so he thought if you were going to make Soyul jealous, you really had to do it. Besides he had already inspected you, at first glance you were too pretty and that dress fit you like a dream so that speeded things up.

Once again, you had to go behind him and you entered the luxurious establishment.

—Good evening, Mr. Lee, how can I help you? Would you like something to drink? —the worker hurried to say to you once you entered, with a smile, looking quickly towards you.

You noticed how she looked at you in surprise since Minho hadn't brought another girl since two years ago when he was still in a relationship.

—Nothing for me in particular, I'm looking for earrings for women.

—Of course, I'll show you.

Minho followed the young woman and you followed Minho, who led you deeper into one of the display counters; you had come a lot of times with Felix every time it was a special occasion for his family since he had been raised among only women, he always offered to buy you some jewelry but you flatly refused. And now there you were, about to accept them from a stranger.

—Choose —he ordered you—. Quickly, I don't like to be late —he looked at his watch.

Timidly you leaned down to look at each one of the fine jewelry until a pair of gold diamond earrings in the shape of a flower caught your attention.

—These —you murmured to Minho.

The clerk stood waiting for his confirmation.

—I'll take those.

He quickly took care of paying for them without looking at the price and they were finally delivered in their characteristic turquoise box with a white bow. He got into the car first and left the box there, you snorted for a second annoyed at how ungentlemanly and attentive he was, one second you felt like a princess wearing Versace and taking you to Tiffany & Co. and the next you had to run to keep up with him.

As soon as you got in, he said curtly:

—Use them, we're about to get to Hyunjin's.

You watched him take the steering wheel attractively and noticed two boxes in between of you. You didn't know why you took the other one and Minho, noticing it, quickly placed his hand on yours stopping you.

—It's the other box.

You looked at him, he acted a little strange; you took the other box and put on those sparkling diamonds. You had taken the old engagement ring that Minho bought for Soyul before they broke up, he was ready to give it up as it was of no use to him, it was made to fit his ex-girlfriend's finger.

When you arrived you saw that it was not a simple exhibition, but a chateau style mansion with many cars parked at the grand entrance, you got nervous, just like Minho, normally he didn't get like this but it would be the first time he would see Soyul accompanied by the man why she left him and also he had his first kind of date after so long.

Minho let out a breath.

—Well, we have to do it right. You're an actress, right? Create a character right now so we can both be on the same page.

You didn't know what to say.

—I can change my name and….

—Yes, that’s right.

—Which one is right for you?

—Anything…

—Choi Eunjoo… photographer from…

—A place far away, what about Jeju? —he mentioned intensely, he was nervous.

You nodded. You had chosen the name of an inactive random actress who studied at the same university as you, who was a friend of Felix's mother and whose cinematography he forced you to watch while your friend argued how good she looked at her age. If they try to look you up for your name, they would be surprised to see only her and her inactive projects in the early 2000s.

—Okay, let's go.

You both walked down the dirt road, once you came out of the darkness and Minho noticed people watching, he grabbed you by the waist.

—And what is your real name, Eunjoo? —he whispered to you.

[…]

It was better than you expected, you didn't imagine that there would be a construction like this in the modern city, you drank Champagne while you didn't leave Minho's side even for a second; after a couple of drinks you both relaxed completely and walked around the house and admired Hyunjin's paintings. This was maybe a normal Saturday for Minho, but it was for you a dream, you felt like Cinderella, once the clock struck 12 and the charm would be completely gone.

At one point in a room you both finally met Hyunjin, Minho came over to greet him and you shyly watched them chat, Hyunjin gave you a complicit look and smile, he hadn't seen Minho relaxed in years, sadly it was short lived as Soyul entered the room.

You noticed Minho's jaw tighten and saw where his eyes were fixed, on a pretty slim woman with the face of a celebrity. You quickly understood and walked over to Minho, linking your arm around his.

—You're here —she said to him.

She quickly looked at you.

—I'm still Hyunjin's friend.

—Jung Soyul, nice to meet you —she introduced herself.

You held hands and Minho saw something that broke his heart once again, an engagement ring on her finger, suddenly the alcohol left his body, he felt sick, the suit was suffocating him.

—Choi Eunjoo —you smiled at her.

—So are you dating?

Hyunjin could notice the sour look she had on you and that caused him satisfaction.

—Yes —Minho went ahead to say.

—I haven’t see you before, Choi Eunjoo.

She said hypocritically, blinking repeatedly.

—Oh, it's just that, I'm an indie photographer from Jeju and… I met Minho and the rest is history.

—Oh, now that's romantic.

—More romantic than getting to know each other when you're in another relationship —Hyunjin added amusedly, taking a sip of his drink.

Soyul gave him a dirty look. And Minho didn't find it funny, he wanted to get out of there. Soyul knew him so well and noticed his expression, meanwhile you were analyzing the look of pity she was giving your boss, so you turned to see him, he looked serious and pale. You quickly approached his ear, covering your lips and whispered to him:

—We can get out of here if you want, pretend I'm saying something nice to you and smile naturally. You're acting weird.

And so he did, Minho smiled softly; he hadn't felt the touch of another woman in years, suddenly your warm breath and soft lips brushing minimally against his ear pleased him.

—We haven't seen the whole exhibition yet, excuse me —he added, taking your hand.

You moved far enough away and, in a crowded room, he let go of your hand and walked out the large doors to what you could see was a balcony. You didn't know whether to follow him, but you did anyway.

He had unbuttoned his suit and a few buttons on his shirt, he felt suffocated. You saw him leaning against the white stone railing.

—Should I ask what's got you like this? —you said softly.

—You don't have to follow me around all the time —he added defensively—. Soyul cheated on me and now she is going to marry that motherfucker, what a great night to find out.

You didn't say anything, you didn't know how to comfort someone and in a way, Minho was grateful for your silence.

—Well, once I say it out loud it sounds pathetic —he added.

—Hyunjin told me it was complicated for you…. —you approached him and hesitated to touch him, but slowly rubbed your hand on his back— that he wants the best for you and you start to meet new people.

Minho let out a chuckle and watched you carefully, he hadn't given himself the task of observing how pretty you looked in that dress, under the moonlight, the way your eyes sparkled and how your lips looked so appetizing, Minho found himself losing his temper a bit for you so he quickly rejected any feelings and immaturely, he became elated and said:

—I don't know why I'm saying this things to a hooker anyway.

He brushed off your touch and walked away leaving you absolutely lost and somewhat hurt.

The rest of the night you didn't find Minho and you were starting to get scared, you felt out of place, lost in a huge house, full of rich people laughing in their own social circle, you were so sensitive you wanted to cry, you wondered if Minho had abandoned you there.

You checked the time, past midnight and 5 minutes, it was time to go. You tried to look for a way out until you made it, you felt so embarrassed that you would ask for a cab but the signal on your phone there was terrible.

Suddenly you felt a big hand grab your wrist, you turned around scared and found the man you almost cried for tonight.

—Let's get out of here.

Confused, he led you to his car and you parted on the road in silence. Minho had pondered all night and wanted to take the next step, to finally be with a woman other than his ex-girlfriend, but he didn't know exactly how to ask you.

As you merged into the city you realized he was heading in an unknown direction until you reached the hills in one of the more upscale neighborhoods and finally saw that he had taken you to his house.

You thought he was a selfish piece of shit and there were two options, suddenly he wanted to fuck you or he went home exhausted and sad and would let you call a cab to take you home. But what you didn't know was that he was cynically leaning towards the first option.

You got out of the car and now he was the one running towards you.

—Why that face y/n? —he said, approaching you.

You looked at him indignantly, suddenly he was calling you by name and wanted to have you close, you thought he must be drunk.

—Let's go inside, you have to be a good girl and thank me for the earrings, I'll make sure to buy you more pairs.

He grabbed you by the waist, you noticed how his voice became gravelly, but that wasn't how you fell and he knew he said a couple of hurtful things but he didn't know how to apologize. You questioned whether you should play along, fuck him and call it a day and go home, as sadly you had to play along, or so you thought.

You stared into his eyes, those big dark eyes in a cute cat shape, he was attractive and from what you saw earlier he had a good dick, so you decided that if you would cry at least make sure it was worth it.

—What do you have in mind? —you rounded his neck and moved your face closer.

He smiled mischievously and, the next thing you knew, you were both in his home entrance devouring each other's lips. Minho had a lot of dirty ideas while he was away from you during the party, the alcohol made him horny. He took off his coat and untucked his shirt and undid his belt. He slipped his hands under your dress lifting it and shamelessly squeezed and massaged your ass, drawing you to his body where you began to feel his erection rubbing against you; Minho loved the idea of touching your bare ass since you only had tiny panties on, you moaned as you felt his lips and tongue on your neck, for some reason his mouth was so soft and you were a complete sucker when you were treated to a lot of physical contact during sex.

You parted and an act of lust, he sought to undo your dress and bra, he stared at you, semi naked for him and began to move his kisses down your breasts without breaking eye contact, it looked fucking good to watch him as he moved down your body and feasted himself on your tits until he moved down to your underwear and wet pussy. By this point you were panting and in need of action. His sharp nose brushed against your mons pubis and he slowly slid your underwear down your legs until he stripped them from you. He parted your legs a little and you felt his hot breath on your area screaming for attention. Minho took your pussy with his big hands and parted your folds, sticking his tongue out shyly and giving your whole pussy a deep, dirty kiss. You gave a little cry of excitement and didn't think you were capable of standing in heels while he ate you out.

Minho felt so good, with his thumb he stimulated your clit as you gave little spasms into him from your excitement. He noticed that you were becoming increasingly impossible to hold so he stopped, carried you suddenly upstairs to his room. Minho laid you down on his bed while he stayed on the edge of it finishing undressing himself. You watched the spectacle with excitement, from his notorious veins to his hands undoing buttons that looked tiny and finally his pants releasing his big firm erect cock, your heart raced faster just watching it, it was delicious, he was incredibly endowed, it was big and thick with notorious veins, you bit your lip thinking how incredibly painful but pleasurable that would feel in your pussy.

Minho saw your reaction and quickly positioned himself over you, he took your wrists and held them with one hand above your head.

—Did you like what you see, little whore?

You nodded, unable to speak properly, if you tried to say anything it would surely be in a needy tone. You could feel him slapping your belly every time he came closer to you.

—You want it in your mouth?

You almost screamed please, but before you could speak, Minho lay back waiting to be satisfied. On your knees and arching your back purposely giving him a view of your dripping pussy, you took his big cock and inserted it into your mouth tasting every vein. Minho sat up and began to fuck you with two fingers inserting them into your vagina. You are a mess, completely wet, with cum and saliva sliding down the corner of your lips, you didn't think it could have been better until you feel his hands on your hips and he tries to position you on top of him. You helped him a little and for the first time you were experiencing the 69 position.

You were panting between his big dick, your nose was starting to get slippery and little tears were coming out of your eyes. On the other hand Minho had his tongue deep inside you, he was tasting your labia, and stimulating your clitoris and from time to time he passed your wetness stimulating your exposed ass.

You stopped sucking him off when you felt your climax near, you sat up while resting your hands on his marked abdomen, only your gasps and grotesque sound of Minho devouring your pussy could be heard in the room, occasionally he would let out tinies 'mmmh' enjoying every second of you. You clung more to his abdomen and lifted your ass gently so as not to rest all your weight on him; you threw your head back blinded with pleasure.

—I'm gonna cum —you announced in a desperate, choked cry.

And just when you didn't think it could have been any better, Minho accelerated his licking and sucked harder, bringing you to the edge until you collapsed in his mouth. Your orgasm had been so strong that it hurt your abdomen a little.

You pulled away from him, embarrassed and soaking wet but Minho was more than happy. He leaned back on his elbows and wiped his mouth with a smile, it had been a long time since he had the intimacy of good sex, let alone eating such an appetizing nice pussy like yours, he smiled as he was satisfied that he was still excellent in bed.

You looked at his naked body again, his hard cock was needy and sensitive and within seconds you were horny again. Minho grabbed you roughly by the face and kissed you heatedly. He pulled away from you and with his hand made a motion indicating you to turn around, confused you showed him your ass and put yourself in four.

Minho without thinking caressed your buttocks and then spanked you hard 5 times in a row, each stroke exalted you and made you moan pleasurably, your skin was burning with pain, you could predict that your ass was thus as red as your riotous cheeks.

Minho played with your pussy a little, reinserting his fingertips, you saw him take a condom and within seconds you felt the latex on the tip of his penis teasing your entrance. Until you felt him slowly insert half of his erection and then insert the rest all at once causing you to let out a soft cry. You arched your back again as you gently moved your ass, adjusting yourself to his massive cock, filling your insides.

—I'm going to fuck you hard, kitten.

He murmured and without warning and without mercy he began to ram you bestially making the sound of his pelvis slapping your buttocks resonate along with the sounds of your wet and well lubricated cunt. You couldn't help but moan every time he was inside, you felt like you were going to swoon all over him, it felt so good for you as well as for him, finally, the adrenaline and desire to fuck someone who wasn't as vanilla as his ex-girlfriend, Minho always liked to fuck hard.

You were in paradise, you were wearing diamonds and he was abruptly pounding your insides. Minho was holding you by the hips but soon grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it, riding you wonderfully; his view was beautiful, he pulled his grip tighter and pressed you to his body, your back rubbing against his bare chest, you could feel his cock protruding from your lower belly, thrusting you hard. In one swift movement, he held you with his strong right arm whose naughty fingers pinched and stimulated your clit and with his left hand he began to gently choke you. He gasped from time to time in your ear “fuck” over and over again. You both synchronized your climax and you felt the grip of his hand on your neck getting tighter and tighter until you couldn't breathe, you adored it, you loved how your body was fighting for oxygen but at the same time seeking the culmination of your pleasure, your heart beat faster and oxytocin shot out of your system and in desperation you placed your hands on his hand on your neck, you felt every vein exalted from his strong grip.

You thought you were going to pass out but it was only your shuddering second orgasm, Minho slowly released you and cum on the condom still inside you. You ended up exhausted, racing and with your limbs trembling.

You had never been fucked so well that you almost felt the need to tell him I love you so you could have him forever.

The next morning you woke up naked, still in his comfortable bed. When you opened your eyes you found Minho buttoning his shirt, he looked all tidy and was getting ready.

—Are you going somewhere on Sunday?

You spoke, hoarse and still asleep.

Minho turned to see you and smiled, he thought you looked cute with your hair in disarray and your face a little puffy, but after a second he regretted it. He refused to feel anything for you other than just desire.

—You have to go. The driver is outside.

He told you coldly and walked out of his room, leaving you slightly heartbroken.

He was unbelievable.

[postersofleon]

Just Like The Beatles

Being in a band with three men while being a lonely girl would sound difficult, but you all managed to make it work. You four tried to use bonding exercises to avoid issues, which included livestreams with fans or smoked weed in private. When you joking said, you should do that infamous Beatle game in Hamburg. You didn't expect them to accept.

content: smut

notes: afab fem!reader; 'bonding' with the boys; um, i can't explain; luis x leon x chris x you; man on man action; modern au; ooc characters; SMUTTY. like there is no plot at all. minors, i know i can't control you, but... this is a sexual situation. if i say, don't read this, you are stubborn and will still try. I'm trying to finish all my long stuff to not overwhelm myself.

taglist: @argreion

The digital clock counted another minute. All the hotel room heard was the breathing of each member of the group. Luis's brown eyes looked at each of his members. This wasn't gay, right? He took a deep breath, "Do you have your dildo?" He wanted to make sure this was perfect for their dumb new activity of the day.

You groaned softly, "I, I got it." You showed your pink toy to your friends. Leon's cheeks turned a bit red but he stayed focused on the mission. Chris nodded his head as well. "Okay, so, how did the Beatles do it again?" He asked softly.

"Well, it was a masturbating game," Leon mumbled softly, "They jacked their dicks together as they yelled out names. Lennon mentioned Churchill but they still... had to cum."

Yeah, this was basically insane.

You nodded your head and took off your bathrobe, showing at least a bit of your breasts and raised your bottom side of it. "I'm ready, I guess." Luis swallowed when he saw your boobs, "I still don't know how this is bonding exercise." He felt himself just getting hard by seeing his lead singer's breasts.

Chris sighed, "Well, if it weren't for her research the Beatles," He rubbed his thighs and pulled out his limp dick, "And you two bozos accepting it. We could've just done a stupid Tiktok trend."

Leon rolled his eyes, "It sounded like a good idea. You saw what music the Beatles did."

"Yeah, until they broke up." Chris muttered.

Leon pulled out his own half harden dick, "No wonder we don't have girlfriends." Leon looked at everyone half naked side. Your pussy and your dildo slowly rubbing it gently to make it wet. Leon groaned, "Fuck, this is definitely a bad idea."

Luis groaned, "Don't judge, I didn't shave." He showed his and he had a bunch of pubes were just there.

"This is so gay." Leon mumbled.

"Forget it." You said, "Now, we have to figure out how to get properly aroused to play the game."

The four idiots looked at each other. Luis saw Chris's dick and Leon's... and soon your cunt. He gently rubbed his to raise it up. "I'm... I'm really trying, eh." He grunt softly.

You closed your eyes for a second and rubbed your dildo on your tits. You clicked on the end of it, and it began to buzz. You focused the buzzing on your nipples and moved it up and down. Leon, Chris, and Luis were just enjoying the how you looked. Leon's legs opened, and he whined softly as his hips buckled.

Chris's eyes followed how the dildo just played around your body.

"I'm wet." You said.

I'm hard." Luis muttered, trying to keep it nice and steady.

Leon nodded his head as he removed his bathrobe. The trio without shame looked at Leon. Leon was a soft version of hot compared to Chris and Luis. Leon had body hair, but he trimmed most of the guys.

Chris was struggling a bit. He sighed, "I can't." The trio looked up at their leader. "Why not?" You asked. Keeping yourself wet sucked as your fingers began to rub your clit to assure it. Chris groaned, "I just don't jack off a lot. I don't even like watch porn."

Leon, Luis, and you had a guilty look.

"It-it's fine. Let's play, and maybe Chris will get hard from... something." Leon knew either way, Chris will feel it. The dildo entered your hole and pumped the toy in and out. "First name..." You whispered softly.

"Albert Wesker." Leon started easy. Everyone from the band knew Wesker was hot whenever they liked it or not. You pinched your nipples as you focused on the idea of Wesker pumping his dick in you. Leon's hand rubbed his tip and moaned softly until his wrist moved up and down his shaft.

Luis rubbed his happy trail and slowly began and avoided his tip. His pre cum began to bubble from his tip. Even if Chris wasn't masturbating, he had Wesker in mind. Chris began to rubbed gently his thighs to raise himself to play the game. Next name.

"Jill Valentine?" Luis said in a questioning tone. Jill was more taboo than Wesker. They respected her.

You pumped the dildo slower for Jill. "Mm, Jill would be so nice..." The men agreed. Leon's butt clenched a bit; he groaned weakly, trying to catch his breath.

Next name. It was your turn but you were too focused on riding your toy. "Hey, your turn." Chris tried to be the bigger adult, but seeing your body squirm around your body. Your cunt clenching on the pink toy...

"Um," You were forced to think. You saw how your band members were just pumping their dicks, it made your stomach feel weak. Your eyes trailed down how Leon masturbated compared to Chris and Luis.

Chris did it as he made a mission. He wasn't completely relaxing as his hand pumped it over and over. His eyes were hazy. Luis was more loving in a way, his legs were wide and kept nothing hidden. His cock was red and needy, but he kept it more under control.

Leon was groaning and making more noise as he pumped his cock. "C'mon, hurry up..." He moaned.

"Leon..." You moaned back.

Your cheeks burned, but you looked at them. All of them needing them a bit more than expected. In a way, everyone knew the game was over as they stood up and crowded Anya. It wasn't the usually friendly stuff they did. It was focused around lust. Luis kept his cock close your face as he pumped it faster. Luis put gently his tip around your lips and traced them together. He hissed weakly before placing his hot cock inside your mouth.

Leon removed your toy from your cunt and got down his knees and saw his lead singer's wetness pour down. "Chris..." Leon's index finger traced down her pussy lips, Chris went down on his knees as well.

Your eyes wanted to look down, but Luis basically was thrusting his cock in your mouth. Chris and Leon opened your legs and went in. Chris kissed your thighs and Leon lick gave small little licks directly from the hole. Making sure to not make the hotel chair dirty. Well, that was his mind set around it. Leon's free hand was still pumping his cock. All Chris can do is see how they went at it.

Leon's tongue moved around your folds and your pretty hole. Collecting all it can. He grabbed your hips tightly, his hot breath against your cunt as his nose rubbed you. Your hand grabbed Leon's hair and tugged on it hard.

Leon whined softly. Luis didn't even focus at the men at your feet. He caressed your cheeks as you took him in.

Your drool traveled down your tits as you moaned like a pathetic toy. Luis slapped your tits and held them, "Fuck, fuck, si..." He grunted weakly.

Leon looked up at you and noticed all the wetness collecting on your pretty cunt. Chris groaned, "This sucks..." His eyes widen when he saw how Luis had you, "We need a better position." He whispered softly. Luis grinned, "Ye-yeah, I need to keep this mouth on my dick..." Leon pressed his nose on your clit before licking it again.

Luis pulled out. You coughed loudly, finally catching your breath. Chris needed to think fast.

Chris stood up and gently kissed your lips. "Can you handle it?" He whispered softly. Your eyes soften, "I can try." You didn't want neither of them left out. He smiled. Despite being the biggest of the three, he was gentle and knew his strength. Leon was accidentally too rough, he didn't mean to, but his strength came into place.

You were carefully placed on the bed into doggy. It felt embarrassing until you felt Chris slowly press his cock around your folds. In front of you, Luis and Leon's cocks were on your face. Luis caressed the top of your head, "Good thing we don't have a concert tomorrow, huh?" Leon smiled too, "We'll be gentle." You knew could trust your drummer and your base player.

Chris grabbed your hips and slowly began to thrust. He groaned weakly. He gently squeezed your butt. Luis and Leon gently shoved their cock into your mouth. They were expecting a blowjob. Just your mouth on them. You groaned softly when you felt Chris's fingertips hold your hip tightly. Luis groaned softly, "Leon, I think we have to handle it ourselves."

Leon whined softly. Luis kissed your lips, "When Chris is done, it'll be our turn." Luis sighed softly, "It's going to end up gay."

"Actually, like Marlon Brando," Leon said, "He slept with men and women to ease himself." Luis sighed softly, "I can't believe we are the same age."

Leon rolled his eyes until he felt Luis's lips on his. Chris thrusted deeper into you, pinning you as he pushed you arched back down. Chris groaned softly as his large arms held your waist. Chris kissed your cheek, his dick was slamming in and out of you. Luis and Leon were just happily making out on the bed in front of you. You gasped weakly once Chris rubbed your clit as he kept and kept going. Your squirmed a bit, kicking your feet a bit, "Chris!" You yelped loudly. Chris rubbed your clit faster, "Sa-save that voice."

You whined loudly, you couldn't take it anymore.

It was too simulating. Seeing Leon's and Luis's cock drag against each other. Bumping into each other. Chris's own cock pumping you, your kicked around, "Chris..." Chris grabbed you and sat you up. His hands grabbed your hips as he moved you up and down.

Leon and Luis were in their own heaven as they gently kissed. Luis' hand caressed Leon's hips and pulled him closer, Luis grabbed Leon's blond hair and pulled him close. Leon moaned softly, his eyes fluttered a bit trying to see Luis, but his mind was stuck on the kiss. Leon pumped their dicks together with the pace Chris had in you. Luis cursed weakly, his hips moved up a bit trying to feel more of Leon.

Your toes curled up, your back arched that specific way and it was takeaway on Chris's actions. Chris rubbed gently your stomach, "C'mon... Luis and Leon need you like I do..." Your eyes weakly looked at how their tips' pre-cum were sticking together. "Mm, need..." You whispered softly. You wanted to choke on them, but you weren't thinking clear and Chris knew so. "Later." His fingers rubbed your clit again, little by little it went faster and faster. Until you released. Your cunt clenched around Chris's cock and attempted to squeeze all of him, but Chris thought it double and wore a rubber. Even Luis and Leon made a mess on Luis's stomach, they all gasped for air for a bit.

You laid on the bed, and Chris held you from the back. Luis and Leon soon followed. Holding each other tightly to give comfort. Luis groaned softly, "So, now what? Is this part of our bonding now?" Guess the Beatles were kind of right.

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[hitomisuzuya]

Self aware! Aventurine x fem!reader. Yandere! Aventurine cause why not. Something for giggles at the end.

No smut guys. This is just me being silly, and self indulgent cause Aventurine evaded me. It stings, ngl so this is more to make myself feel better😂 Pay zero attention to this nonsense omg 😂

Aventurine could instantly feel the sadness caused by the crushing weight of life through your hands the moment you played his character demo. He knew what that was like, so to be nice and so you could shut your brain off for awhile, no damage was taken at all from enemies.

Oh, but what's this? You started playing this game just for him. There were 5 days left for him to "come home", but sweetheart, it was an unrealistic gamble. You were still very wet behind the ears. Trailblaze level 39 and barely even aware of your own abilities to play the game.

Aventurine could definitely feel how scared you were observing you struggle and ultimately triumph over certain tasks once you got a feel for it down. It took you a lot of nerve to even play. He would hear you think, "I hate messing up and not doing things right the first time."

Dedication squeezed at your heart. Made you lose sleep. Dedication all for him.

Please quiet your pounding heart, darling. You have a better grasp than you think. It was quite frankly amazing to see.

It was both amusing and endearing to see you soak up information like a sponge. Only to have you try and pull when you had a comfortable amount of currency.

As the days went by, and your time window got closer to slamming shut until the next opportunity, he supposed that it was a good thing Dr. Ratio was helping you out.

Supposed, anyways

You were starting to cheer for Ratio when he started to crit high. That was starting to irk him, but the rush of fulfillment he felt through you when you cleared something made it worth it.

After all, you were doing all this for him. Aventurine was only able to feel your emotions because he is was always on your mind every second you played. Even after logging off.

You are his, damn it. That was that. There really wasn't anyone else you needed. He craved to spoil you.

Of course, he had his own ways of keeping tabs on you. Dr. Ratio was starting to be more use to him that he thought.

Aventurine truly hated shutting you down, especially when he felt your heart sting and a few tears well into your eyes. You held your head high and soldiered right on, brushing them away from your eyes with your delicate hand before they even fell.

He wanted you flourish first. He wanted you to have 10000% confidence. He knew he could've just come home and did everything for you, but he wanted to fight by your side as well as fight for you. He wanted you set up the party with him in it and think with a smile, "I can do this. I know I am capable. And I have you, Aventurine. Nothing can go wrong."

It was a pleasure for him to watch you. Especially in the Simulated Universe, and the Critter Pick quest. How you smiled and giggled at the cat cakes. You cooed at them. Even lamented about not having something like them in another game.

When that time finally came, and it would, don't you worry your pretty little head. He already knew your dedication level was incredibly high, and there would be extra insurance provided by both you and him.

Aventurine realized that you were irrevocably, totally, and completely dizzy in love with him. The words in your head exactly. They made his heart skip beats.

When he realized he was in love with you, it was during the end of Critter Pick mission. It snuck up on him, and slapped him hard in the face. It was when you were facing down the Swarm for the final Curio.

You loathed The Juvenile Sting and Lesser Sting from the Swarm in particular. You'd retreated over and over, getting intimidated when they multiplied. Until one night, you'd narrowed your eyes in determination and said, "Okay, you fucking bugs. Let's go. I won't be bullied by you today. I will do this for the sake of the cat cakes."

You dug your heels in, and didn't run. You wanted to do many times. You were already terribly fragile with your confidence to begin with. He watched you so close, and the surge of pride he felt when he saw you refused to yield in the end was undescribable.

"That's my girl," He'd murmured when the final bug exploded. Ratio may have taken care of you, and he was glad for that. Aventurine knew he would've been better for you.

Until that day when he could come for you, darling, he was still going to be there. Hovering patiently unseen. Maybe your shields around your characters would last a little longer in tight spots. Maybe a mysterious extra skill point would appear that you thought you didn't have. Maybe, just for you, Ratio would have an extra follow up attack.

And okay maybe sometimes when you had to pause battle for whatever reason, Ratio would get downed mysteriously now and then. He really, really was starting to hate that you relied on him so much.

Aventurine sought out a certain master hacker to put traces on your phone. That would was the only way to keep you close off game. Perhaps he would find a way to just come to you. And poof, you would disappear from your world and go with him.

He felt much better knowing where you were, and what you were doing when he so desired. He lived for when he could hear you say his name outloud. It sounded so sweet to him to even hear you think it.

It was ideal, really.

And just who was Scaramouche anyways? He was immediately shut down with such a spine chilling shock when he tried to investigate.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 34 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

In the giant walk-in closet John enlists your help in putting on a sharp black suit.You are supposed to be helping him with his buttons, but you just can’t stop kissing him while he stands before you like this, his tailored pants undone, his shirttails loose. '

His chest is a constellation of bruises, and you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to them. “Baby…” he sighs, his head tilted back for your ministrations, his long fingers sliding into your hair. “It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m used to this.”

Somehow, he knows there are tears in your eyes. He always knows. And even though you know what he says is technically true– you've seen his scars– it does not soothe you. 

“I just…don’t want you to be hurt anymore,” you say, perhaps stupidly. Yet the sentiment seems to move him, as he pulls you close with arms around your back.

“I feel pretty good, actually,” he says, a warmth in his eyes that quickens your heart. 

With your hands on his bare chest, you run your fingers over a nasty purpling bruise just below his collarbone. “I can’t fathom how that’s possible.”

Yet when he turns your face up to his with gentle fingers, the unsaid truth rings in the air between you. You stayed. It seems there are things he’s not willing to say aloud yet either. That’s fine. More than understandable. There is more important business you need to attend anyway…like staying alive. 

So when John begins to back you up with hands on your waist, pressing you into the wall, you aren’t proud of the ridiculous little sound that escapes you. It’s only been a week. You should not need him this much. 

But, you do. 

“John…” you scold, sounding utterly convincing as your eyes flutter closed, his lips on your neck. “You’re going to tear your stitches.”

“Then you’d better be gentle with me.” You can hear the smile in his words. 

“I thought you said we’re in a hurry…” you try again, even breathier than before. You’re trying to be gentle, but your hands wander on their own, around the gap in his waistband, your fingertips dipping in to find the firm curve of the top of his buttocks.  

He huffs with laughter against your skin, pressing you into the wall with his solid weight, the bulge of his manhood deliciously hard against you. “I’m not going to last long,” he admits, and you realize he is laughing at himself. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I was right here.

You manage to restrain yourself from saying it, because you sense a sort of truce has arisen between the two of you that you do not want to shatter again. You realize that you’re not proud of how desperately you want to go back to the way they were before, when things were good between you. You want morning coffee, and dinners you cook together, and lovemaking on the couch in between reading a book. You just…want the locks on the doors open, is all. 

Is it really such an ask?

And maybe…no one breaking into the house trying to kill you both. That would be nice. 

You know there’s no dissuading him, when he’s in this mood. And…you don’t want him to stop, if you’re being completely honest. You’d be a liar, if you said the sight of him looking at you like this, expectant, vulnerable, his eyes filled with longing, after being without him for what ridiculously felt like an eternity, didn’t make your pussy pulse and ache, your clit singing to life.

You had since changed from your bloodied silk pajamas into a simple t-shirt and panties, unsure of what you were wearing for this mysterious location John intended to go. His fingertips tracing the outside of your thigh, up to the elastic over your hip, makes your flesh quiver. 

Those long, questing fingers push aside the thin barrier of fabric between your legs, finding you soaking wet for him already. It wins you a moan from deep in his throat; a sound that lifts every little hair on your body. You clench around his fingers, already on the edge of orgasm, your need for him is so sharp, so aching. 

“You missed me?” 

The answer seems so obvious, but the fragility in his tone ties up your heartstrings. No matter what he saw or heard in your week apart on his camera in the bedroom, he needs to hear it from you. 

“So much,” you admit, throwing your self-respect out the window, along with your sanity. 

“Mmm.” His forehead presses to yours, and there are questions you know you should ask him. Important ones. But your brain has stopped functioning, and he will not let you get away, with two fingers buried in your cunt and his thumb upon your sensitive clit, moving slowly back and forth. 

“Wait,” you keen, clenching upon those beautiful big fingers, but he only shakes his head, sucking delicately at the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

This was the last thing he needed to be doing. You needed to be taking care of him. But here he was, stubborn as ever, making you see stars. “Let me have it, y/n. Need to feel you cum for me.” He pins you with his penetrating dark eyes locked with yours, just as much as his large body caging you in and his hand upon you. His thumb presses down on your button, firm, knowing. Because you’re his, a little voice inside your head sings out, and the thought as much as his touch sends you careening over the edge, a ragged sound torn from your throat, your head rocking back into the wall. The crackling fury of the pleasure lifts you to your tiptoes, and he keeps touching you until you absolutely writhe with overstimulation, tugging at his wrist completely ineffectually. 

You feel his satisfied smile against your cheek, as the world returns into focus, and you can hear again past your heartbeat and your labored breathing. When at last you’re able to open your eyes you find him looking at you with that black-diamond glitter in his eyes, and a tenderness that nearly breaks you all over again. 

With your hand splayed on his chest you push gently. “Sit down,” you tell him, and he lifts one of those dark eyebrows at you. 

Even bruised and battered, a cut on his cheek and the bridge of his nose and a scrape on his chin, he’s so handsome it hurts. 

Once upon a time, he might have laughed at your command and continued to do exactly what he pleased with you. But tonight, maybe for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually does as he’s told, lowering himself to the padded bench in the center of the closet. It’s meant as a seat for putting on one’s shoes…but that’s not what you intend to do with it by half.

You brush his hair back gently, tracing the shell of his ear. His eyes slide closed, leaning into your touch, and there’s nothing you want more in that moment, than to make all his hurt go away. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

His eyes crack open minutely for you. “For what?” It’s as though he really can’t fathom what you mean. 

“For saving us.”

His eyes slide closed again, as though against some thought he cannot bear. “I was so afraid…” he admits. “That they would make their way up here to you.”

“But they didn’t,” you assure him, still sliding your fingers through his silky hair. “They didn’t stand a chance.”

He gives that bitter huff of laughter that makes him wince. “The last one might have…if not for you.”

“Mmm hmm.” You really don’t take killing a man so casually–but you are still numb, and John is the focus of your universe. Later it will all come crashing in. “See what a good team we make?” you ask, pulling your t-shirt over your head. He is eye-level with your bosom–he buries his face in your cleavage, resting his cheek in the mounded flesh of your breasts. The gesture seems more in the pursuit of comfort, than sex.

“Are you…suggesting we do things like this more often?” he quips into your cleavage.

“Just that you don’t lock me away again.” You realize how utterly batfuck insane this conversation would sound to an outsider. Maybe you really have lived in your own little world with John for too long, but it doesn’t matter to you. All that matters is the two of you, now, and you sense that maybe, just maybe on the horizon lays a glimpse of a possibility that maybe this thing between you could still arrive at a place where you could both be happy. 

“What a forward suggestion,” he deadpans. It takes you a moment to realize that he is, in fact, teasing you, in a way that suggests he knows that his behavior was not exactly kosher. He sighs, kissing the soft flesh of the top of your breast. Even after the bone-melting orgasm he just gave you, it makes a shiver roll down your spine. “I needed to think.” 

Your grip in his hair tightens as you remember the absolute agony you’d put yourself through, locked away for the week that felt infinite in its agony. You’re not sure what to say to that, that won’t immediately start a fight. 

Maybe he senses the spike in your pulse against his ear, because his hands glide up the curve of your back soothingly.

“And then…” he goes on. “I was…working on something. For you.”

This raises your eyebrows, and again you have to bite your tongue. Because you didn’t want more gifts, or surprises. All you’d wanted was him. 

You turn his face up to yours, catching his lips in a kiss that curls your bare toes. It wins you a moan from deep in his throat; a sound that lifts every little hair on your body. 

“John…” Your voice is hushed, hoarse, caught in your throat. “I would have preferred to just have you.”

He closes his eyes to that, as though you’ve bestowed some healing balm. 

“You’ve got me, baby. I’m sorry.” You feel like he means…for so much more than just your most recent stint in solitary. Your lip quivers, and now you are the one pressing your forehead to his, as though you can transfer your feelings to him through this touch. “I’m sorry you had to do…what you had to do. I never wanted to expose you to this part of my world. I thought I could make us a safe little oasis here…fucking christ was I wrong.”

“It’s going to be ok.”

Mostly, you even believe it.

He cranes his gaze up to you, and you see the doubt in his eyes. It breaks your heart all over again.

“You sound so certain.”

“I believe in you, John.”

Again, his lids slide closed, as though he just can’t absorb what you’ve said with eyes wide open. This man has been through Hell and back, and in this moment a ringing clarity settles over you. You resolve to do your best to carry him through this crisis, as best as you can. After you make it through–you’ll take care of yourself. You make yourself this promise–or tell yourself this lie–so that you can do what you need to do to help him survive. What will come after…you’ll worry about it when you get there.

If you get there.   

You start by sliding to your knees, and expressing your appreciation with your eager mouth on his torso, making your way to his beautiful cock. For once he lets you have your way with him, leaning back and enjoying your ministrations without bossing you once, moaning deliciously as you free him into your hand, and take his luscious tip into your mouth. His grasping hand in your hair sends thrills down your spine, a heady mix of triumph and adoration spreading like a warm drug through your veins, and you take him as far as you can into your mouth. 

He was right–he doesn’t last long at all.

***

You finally get around to helping John dress in a very sharp black suit, buttoning his shirt, threading his belt about his trim waist, and helping him affix various holsters for guns, ammo clips, and knives. It’s still distracting, having his body under your hands, even in the afterglow of your life-affirming midnight  delight. You keep kissing him between affixing his buttons, and he growls against your mouth in a way that raises every hair on your body, in the best way this time. “If we weren’t in such a hurry…” he tells you with that deliciously dangerous glint in his eye. 

“Behave,” you tell him, smoothing his lapels. You step back to take in the end result, sighing. “God, you look good.”

He lifts a cut-bisected eyebrow to that, amused. “I don’t look like a beat up old man?”

This again. You are going to lock that joke up in a box and keep it there. You’d only ever meant to tease him, not hurt him.  

“No. You look like a dark dream, and I want to fuck you silly all over again but we don’t have time. What the hell should I wear?”

He laughs at your obvious frustration, winces because it hurts him, and kisses you with toe-curling sweetness before helping you pick out an appropriate outfit for your destination. Dark pants, semi-sensible pumps, and a kevlar vest underneath your blouse. 

You are both dressed to the nines. 

You pack up the Rover with cases of your things. On your part, clothes so nice you never had occasion to actually wear them in the house. On John’s part, his bags are filled with as many guns as they are garments. Dog spreads out across the back seat like this is old hat, going on an adventure again.

It is with a surprising sadness that you pull out of the garage of the cabin manse in the Rover, watching it diminish in your rearview. That house has been your prison for months, and yet…there were so many good moments there too. You find you wouldn’t mind coming back, as long as the doors are not locked to you. 

You drive on the highway through the wee hours, until you reach the bridge, and the lights of what all you small town yokels call The Big City greet you. Towers of glittering lights, big water–and drivers who seem like they are bent on murder just as intently as reaching their destination. It’s easier somehow, to drive defensively behind the wheel of the Range Rover, rather than the few times you’ve done it in your tiny Toyota SUV.

You realize with some amusement that you don’t even know where your car is at the moment. It doesn’t really matter. 

You follow John’s directions through Manhattan, until you arrive at a unique sliver of a building that looks like new construction made to look old. You pull up for the valet, and follow John’s instructions of immediately standing on the first step of The Continental hotel. It’s like the safe base in a game of tag from hell, he’d told you.

You want to go to the passenger side to help John. However, he stands tall, moving better than he had at the house, barely showing sign of injury. You’re impressed until you see the tightness of pain at the corners of his eyes, then you realize he’s putting up a hell of a front. 

He’d warned you to show no weakness here. 

Don’t smile at anyone, or for God’s sakes I’ll have to fight off the whole fucking hotel. 

You think he was joking, but you take playing it cool seriously. In the Big Apple, you know everyone wants a bite out of you. You’ve got to be ready to bite back. 

John lets the red-suited and copiously tattooed bell boys get your bags, which tells you loads about how he’s really feeling. “Mr. Wick?” one of them dares address him. “We’d heard…you were dead?”

John just looks at the kid, not really smiling, but not brushing him off either. “Guess not,” he finally answers, and the boys all share a grin.

“Welcome back.”

John doesn’t exactly groan, but you read the weariness in his expression all too well.

“Thanks.”

John offers you his arm, and together you stride through the doors, Dog at your heels, feeling as though you are stepping through a time portal back into his old life.

At the front desk it feels like he’s speaking in code, so cordial and formulated it’s almost painful. After securing your room he asks, “Is the manager in?”

“He’s expecting you for breakfast on the rooftop, Mr. Wick.”

All you really want is to sleep, but you sense this too is part of some crucial ritual.

One of the bellboys takes your bags and dog up to your room.

John inclines his head to you to follow him. You walk at his side, trying not to gawk like a fucking tourist at the opulent Art Deco lobby, or the people who bustle through this waystation for the Underworld, even at this hour of the early morn. 

The people are interesting, to say the least. Some dressed as though ready for a board meeting, excluding their neck tattoos, and some as though ready for a posh punk concert.

You feel the eyes upon you, and you know it has more to do with the legend of the man who you are with, more than yourself.  

“Winston really outdid himself with the rebuild,” comments John once you are headed up in the elevator. He’d told you about how during their war with the High Table the original New York Continental had been destroyed. 

“Does it stand up to the old one?”

John sighs. “I think my sentimentality prevents me from giving that an honest answer. And…I’d hoped I’d never have to come back here.”

You nod, looking around. Even the doors have ornate Deco metalwork caging you in. “It all looks pretty fucking rad to me,” you say under your breath, pulling a small smile from the corner of John’s mouth.  

“I’ll be sure to tell Winston you said that.”

“Oh God.”

He laughs a little, and winces. Immediately you feel guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he sighs, and as the door opens he leads you with a hand on the small of your back out onto the rooftop terrace of the New York Continental. Dawn is just breaking over the rooftops of Manhattan–the view from so high is breathtaking. 

Winston Scott is every bit the dapper gentleman you expected, after hearing John speak of him so many times. 

“Jonathan,” greets the manager with a handshake and a smile that seems to hold genuine warmth. “Always a pleasure, though I regret the circumstances.”

“Same,” answers Wick. 

“And who do you have here?”

“Winston, this is y/n. She’s my…” You turn your eyes up at John, curious just how he will choose to describe you. Girlfriend seems entirely too trite. Captive? Lover? John actually flashes a sheepish smile that lasts precisely half a second. “This is the light of my life.” 

The old man raises his eyebrows in a gesture of my my. You are surprised when Winston kisses your hand with old world grace, rather than shakes it. You hope it doesn’t show. “A pleasure, Miss y/n.” 

“Likewise, Mr. Scott.”

“Please, call me Winston. So, Jonathan. Just what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

John groans, and slowly lowers himself into a chair. You do the same, and the three of you hash out what happened, and how to go forward, over a delectable breakfast of crepes, fresh fruit, and good coffee. You feed Dog bites of bacon under the table, his block of a head resting on your thigh while you listen to these old veterans of the Underworld formulate a plan. 

You take some small comfort in the fact that Winston sounds so sure of himself. He seems to know a little bit about everything there is to know, and no tidbit of gossip surprises him. You can tell that John values his guidance, the older man speaking to John almost like a father. 

Just maybe the two of you will make it out of this alive after all.  

[swordsandholly]

Mother’s Day Blues

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: ~900 unedited

Johnny loves Mother’s Day. You hate it.

MDNI | cw: vent fic, big mommy issues, mentioned childhood spanking, ED mention

Johnny loves Mother’s Day.

You hate it.

He watches you stand in the card aisle, shifting side to side, reading every single card. Snatching them up and shutting them hard just to shove them back into their little displays - huffing and growing ever more agitated as you go.

“It doesnnae matter what ye pick, bonnie.” He tries to be encouraging. “They’re all nice.”

“That’s the problem.” You mutter in a voice far too weak and bitter for his liking. “Why can’t they make one that just says, like, ‘You sure are my mom!’”

“Sweetheart…” Johnny knows you’re trying to cover it with humor, but the way your brow furrows breaks his heart. He sets a hand on your waist, pointing to a very generic, sparkly joke card. You nod and take it, grimacing still.

He hates it - hates watching you chew your lip and your hands shake while you pace back and forth before the 10 am alarm you set to call your mom goes off. Hates holding you while you sob in his lap after because of course she had to ask in a pathetic, whiny voice ‘is everything okay with us’ when she knows damn well it isn’t. When she won’t ever try to fix it or admit that she fucked up.

You carry the effects of the way she raised you everywhere you go. Johnny sees them all - knows them all by heart. Every time he notices you cutting portions and weighing yourself more than normal. When you use cruel words to describe your body. Every time you don’t tell him that you’re upset with him because you’re frightened of his reaction - body shaking so hard that you look like an earthquake personified. The lack of confidence in your interactions with others, how easily you fold and are ready to people please. Every time you get that glazed over, far away look in your eye after you remember something a little too clearly.

You only took him to meet her once. He’s never wanted to punch a woman like that before.

Johnny is, and always has been, of the opinion that you should cut contact. Cold turkey. Block her on everything and leave it be. You’ve argued about it more times than he can count, going back and forth about what would happen if you did. What the worst outcome could be.

“It’s not like she hit me…” You mutter.

“Spankin’ is hittin’, love.” Johnny takes your hands. “And it doesnnae matter if she did or not. She was rotten tae ye in every other way.”

You just get quiet. Tears well up in your eyes and what is he supposed to do when you get like that? Keep fighting? No, never. It’s your decision anyway. He just hates what she does to you and, by extension, how it effects your relationship with his mother.

Every time you visit is perfectly cordial. His mum loves you - sees you as her own. You’re Johnny’s after all. Her only son. You want to love her. You really, really do but when she says ‘I love you’ it feels like you’re going to die. Every time she hugs you he can see the way your shoulders tense up by your ears and your lips purse.

They’ve talked about it. Johnny and his mum. The horrified look she gave him when he told her only the little he knew at the time was more than enough. Bless her. She made it her goal to be the perfect mother-in-law. Never overbearing, never too needy. To love you quietly and meet you where you’re at.

He’s cried over it a few times - though he’d never admit it - watching her treat you with the gentle hands and words you deserve. It breaks his heart as you try to figure out what to do with it.

Johnny has known he wants to marry you for a long time. You’ve both talked about it, both made it known that you’re fully committed to one another forever. It’s just hard to plan a proposal when he isn’t sure how long he’ll be in town. He got the ring months ago and has just been holding onto it for the right time. So, in the end, he decides to be a bit spontaneous with it. His whole family is going on a beach day, and you look so pretty in your little cover up dresses.

His little nieces and nephews gladly help him set up a little path leading to a circle of flowers. His sister brings her big, fancy camera to take pictures while his other sister hints at you to wear something cute and invited you to get your nails done a week before.

Thank god you’re one of the most oblivious people on the planet.

Of course you say yes, tackling him down into the sand while you both cry. He knew you’d say yea but it still fills his heart to bursting. He buries his face in your neck to hide it, but he can’t stop it. You’re his, always and forever.

As the family congratulates and talks, his mother finally comes up and tenderly takes both your hands in hers.“Welcome to the family, love. It’s so nice to have another daughter.”

Johnny freezes, watching for your reaction.

Your eyes turn to saucers, a quiet hiccup shaking your chest before a full on sob follows. You bury your face in your hands and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. Johnny grabs onto you both.

She might not be your mum by blood, and you may never truly open up to her, but either way you deserve a good mother. He’s more than happy to share his own. Maybe someday you’ll heal. Little by little, by the same gentle hands that raised him.

A/N: Sorry for the angst but Mother’s Day has me fucked up.

[willyoubemycherryy]

✯. 🜚 𝑨 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒎𝒂, 𝒉𝒖𝒉? 𝑻𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐 <333... ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 @luvlydeja 💝

𝑴𝒂𝒉 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒆’𝒔 (¯ ³¯)♡ @missusnora @eleanorbaybars @eymie @taylormarieee @b1mb0slvt

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑦♡︎

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 “𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞” 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐞𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐯𝐲𝐲𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐲🤭, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐦-, 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐘 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )❤︎︎

“𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦...”

“Don’t be mad.”

Deciding to come clean now with your heart in your ass because he’d find out sooner than later and you knew he’d punish you regardless.

Raising an eyebrow Theseus straightens behind his desk. He’s beginning to realize the nervous look on your face was not because something he’s done, but something you’ve done. “Pet,” he says, the mellow timbre of his deep voice deepening. Watching intensely as it makes you shiver. “What did you do?”

You swallow. “When you were gone over the weekend, I—I couldn’t help it.” Your embarrassment makes you so hot that you flush, a clear indicator that you’re ashamed of what you’re about to admit. “I touched myself. I made myself come.”

Theseus visibly frowns. His dick is throbbing at the thought of you being so desperate that you had to get yourself off without him, even though his rules explicitly forbid it. Mentally praying that he’d go easy on you because it really wasn’t your fault. Or maybe it was and you subconsciously did it on purpose because God did Theseus look good when he was angry.

“Sir, I-”

“Take your clothes off,” he says flippantly.

“Mr Scamander?” You ask dumbly, not entirely sure you heard him correctly as adrenaline combined with arousal lights through your body.

“Take. Them. Off. Disobeying me any more will only worsen your punishment. Is that what you want?” he growls. Your eyes meet his stormy blue ones and you shake your head and start to undress, doing your best to be good for him while his gaze burns into you. Theseus watches from his desk, his cock already pressing hard against his fly but making sure to keep his face as expressionless as possible.

The truth is, he doesn’t really care that much that you touched yourself without his permission. He’s more annoyed about the fact that you told him, and now he has to punish you instead of rewarding you. And it’s not that he doesn’t like punishing you either, because he really, really does. But he’s desperate to taste you come.

The last of your clothes fall to the floor, and you’re naked before him, somehow looking both innocent and tempting.

“Now,” Theseus drawls. “Your punishment.”

Fuck. You’re already tingling and he hasn’t even touched you.

“Are you going to spank me this time, Mr Scamander?” You whisper softly, looking up at him through your lashes, trying not to look too eager.

Theseus considers. “Yes, I think that’ll do quite nicely. Come here, pet. Sit facing me.” Beckoning you with a crook of his index finger and the lazy movement is so effortlessly sexy that you fight the urge to outright beg for him.

Rounding the desk, you sit completely nude on the edge, wearing an expression of confusion. How could he possibly spank you like this? Theseus moves his chair closer to you.

“Feet up,” he says, patting the arms of the chair with his hands. You obey, spreading your legs apart, one foot on either side of him, your twitching cunt wet and open in front of him. Humming lowly, Theseus drags his gaze from your glistening cunt to your hued face.

“You’ve made a mess haven’t you, darling,” he admonishes, tutting lowly at you. “Are you going to enjoy your punishment?”

“No, Sir,” you mutter weakly. It’s a bold faced lie and he knows it.

“I think you will. Now, why don’t you remind me why you’re being punished?” He isn’t raising his voice and he doesn’t sound angry but it’s the condescension in his tone makes you whine.

“Because I disobeyed you.”

“You disobeyed me,” Theseus agrees. “I told you not to touch yourself, but you just couldn’t help yourself.”

“Please Sir, it wasn’t my fault. I was so horny, and then you said I could before you left but I never got to, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My pussy ached so bad. I had to.”

“You know why that is pet?”

“No sir…”

“Because you’re a slut. A naughty little thing. Aren’t you?” He whispers, full pink lips against yours as your mouth drops open in a shameless moan.

“Yes, Mr Scamander. I’m a slut. I need to be punished.”

“That’s right,” He says. Dropping his eyes back to your pussy. It takes all his self-control not to lean forward and put his mouth on you. Instead he places his hand flat against your mound. Hypersensitive to his touch, you bite your lip.

“You’re going to spank my….?” You trail off, too dazed by the idea to even get the rest out.

Huffing out a chuckle through his nose, Theseus nods. He can feel your slick lips beneath his hand. “Just five,” he murmurs. “For your first real offense.”

“Okay,” you breathe out.

Theseus pulls his hand away and lets it hover between your legs. You tense in excitement, waiting for the blow but still unprepared when Theseus brings his hand down, hard. The sound of the slap, and your answering moan, echo through the room.

“One,” Theseus says. He’ll do the counting for you this time. He plants another stinging slap between your legs, messy strings from your drooling cunt stick to his hand and you gasp sharply, as if trying to hide how much you’re enjoying it. On the third slap you moan again, head rolling back. Nothing could have grounded you for how good getting your pussy spanked would feel. The quick heavy pressure on your clit, the burn that came with and made your leaking hole ache in the best ways. Looking down he sees your skin is now red where his hand falls, pussy lips full and swollen, juices leaking out. You practically squeal on the fourth slap, and Theseus is almost worried someone might hear. He delivers the last slap and you whine, jerking your hips up. Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you try to compose yourself. Fingers grip the edge of the desk tightly, knuckles straining.

“How does it feel?” Theseus asks, faux concern in his voice.

“It stings,” you whine. Pretty doe eyes watering and he swallows.

“Of course it does,” he says licking his lips. Staring at your enflamed pussy, he can’t hold himself back any longer.

“Let me kiss it better.”

He coos before he’s leaning in, pressing his plump lips softly against the red skin above your slit. He scoots his chair further forward and lifts your legs over his shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses down your lips until he reaches your ass.  He slips his tongue into your slit, groaning as your juices coat his tastebuds. The heady scent and taste of her is intoxicating. He moans against a mouthful your pussy and you cry out in return, dizzy and alight with pleasure as he sucks away hungrily at you. The debauched sounds coming from you spurring him on as he licks into you, teasing your entrance. He runs his tongue along your messy hole slowly. The pure desperation to cum has you whining as he circles your clit with his tongue.

“Mr Scamander,” you pant in ecstasy.

Theseus lifts his head for a moment, meeting her eyes. “Theseus,” he tells you. “Call me Theseus.”

“Okay,” you nod. “These— ah,” you’re cut off by your own moan as he sucks on your clit before he backs off a little, flicking the nub in firm lashes, then dragging his tongue back down your slit to your entrance. He kisses you, then drives his tongue in as deep as he can go. The water that was budding in your eyes spill over your hot cheeks as Theseus eats you alive, gasping desperately as you start to hump into his face.

He can feel your thighs start trembling, the sounds you’re making are strained and pathetic, and he realises your trying to hold off your orgasm. Trying to be a good girl for him. The thought sends blood rushing straight to his groin, and his already hard cock becomes even more painful. His balls feeling heavier by the second.

Theseus moves his mouth to your clit again, sucking viciously while your breathing turns into bleating wails uncontrollably. He pops off your soaked cunt to smile indulgently at you. “You can come whenever you want, sweetness,” he says indulgently and you almost fall apart in relief. It only takes another couple seconds of him tonguing your walls and slurping your abused clit for you to come apart. Letting out a wrecked moan, you’re sobbing as your hips grind against his face, liquid squirting out of your pussy and onto his tongue. You’re not even sure your still breathing as the tidal wave of searing pleasure slams over you, mind going completely blank with the intensity of your orgasm.

Fuck. Fuck. You taste better than he even imagined and he adores the way you sound when you cum.

He wants you to taste yourself too, and before he can even think about what he’s doing, he sits up, cum on his tongue, and drags your mouth to his, shoving his tongue in deep, before your orgasm has even subsided. Dazedly you kiss him back, hungry for him.

“Good girl,” he groans into your mouth. Fitting his hand around your throat, making your nerves scatter. “Now thank me. Thank me for correcting your behavior.”

Your teary eyes widen while your heartbeat sinks to your cunt, pulsing so violently that it’s almost painful as your bite your lip and try not go completely dumb for him.

“T-thank you for correcting my behavior..” you warble out brokenly. Theseus smiles gently at you before pressing a firm kiss to your lips.

“You are very welcome, pet.”

OooflordthismanhasmeBACKinhissexyclutchesaaaaaaaaghgggghhhhhhhh

[klmp11s]

the first with a male!Yuu who became extremely popular in the NRC, like many students want to be friends with him, he is respected as if he were a dorm leader and he even has groups of fans among the students.

Fuck, they all turned out to have a different number of words, it upset me a little, although three posts in a day is normal😭(English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Summary: First year students with extremely popular!yuu Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt Warning: male!reader, ooc(?), hcs, friends to lovers(I'm ready to fight for it), slight jealousy(Асе), Mentions Valentine's Daу, incorrect interpretation of the word (Deuce), veiled declarations of love, kiss(Epel), light possessiveness (Epel)

Ace Trappola

Lol he is literally the founder of your fan club/j I mean that he understands perfectly why so many people want to communicate with you. Like, have you seen yourself? You're one of the most interesting people he's ever met. He is also very glad that other students communicate with you respectfully. Seriously, I think he cared even more than you did. But I also think he was kind of not too keen on the prospect of you getting closer to someone more than him. You won't leave your beloved friend, right? Like, he didn’t like situations at all when, while talking with you, some students unknown to him came and simply took all your attention. Like, hey, you're not THEIR friend, you're HIS. And he would absolutely shamelessly try to take all your attention for himself. Hell, he'd seriously be willing to just take you away from them if he had to. Yes, you can stand up for yourself, but just give him the opportunity to do it for you. STICKY. He is literally physically attached to you. His hand is on your back, shoulder, head, holds your elbow, or he leans his whole body on you. You may not notice, but he is completely shamelessly smiling (dude is ready to stick his tongue out at them) at other students who come up to talk to you. Like, yeah, he's your BEST FRIEND, YES, if they have any questions, let them talk to HIM first. 🙄 He literally didn't notice any "romantic" feelings for you until it was pointed out to him that he was acting like a peacock-guard-dog around you. I swear the realization hits him hard and hard on Valentine's Day. Like, he sits on the bed in your room and looks at the MOUNTAIN of letters, gifts, toys, sweets that were given to you. Seriously, he's sure that if you hadn't left campus so quickly, this mountain would have been even bigger. Of course, such attention is nice, but it’s not at all what you expected. You grab a few boxes of sweets and sit down next to your friend. Your thoughts are filled with only ideas of where and to whom you can give it all, while you watch Ace reach for one of the letters. A pink envelope falls to the floor as he reads out loud a letter from one of the students. “yuu, I swear, you are the first and most unforgettable person I have met. You turned my worldview upside down and I am more than grateful to you for that. Not long ago, I realized that my feelings for you have long been beyond friendship, and I really would like to let you know about it. You are an amazing person and I am truly head over heels in love with you. It has never happened that a simple person aroused so many emotions in me, but I am glad that you became this person. I'd really like to talk to you about this and maybe even ask you out on a datе-" Ace stands up abruptly, crumpling the letter and throwing it into the trash. Yes, you are popular and quite sociable, but a date? Only through his corpse. He falls onto your bed and closes his eyes. A comfortable silence covers your two figures until he asks you a question. “Will you agree?” He covers his eyes with his hand while the other reaches for the package of chocolate lying next to him. “I’ll agree to what?” You watch as he removes his hand from his face and his eyes begin to drill a hole into your face. “ Аgree to a date, genius. With one of… them." He rolls his eyes and rolls over onto his stomach. "Not sure. A couple of them are pretty cute, but they're not my type, you know? Obviously, it's worth talking to them, but I don't think anything more than friendship will work out with any of them. Not interested." You lie down opposite Ace and see the gears in his head begin to work. “Who is your type? If none of your fans, then who? I'm supposed to be your best friend, but you never talked about it, it's not fair." Maybe if you name a specific person, it will be much easier for him to sort out his feelings for you. Like, you only need to be on guard with one person, and not with a thousand different students. It may even be easier to understand what you see in this person.

“Hmm, I see. We really never talked about it. What about the type, I think… Someone who plays some kind of sport, is charismatic and funny enough, protective and a little blind to not seeing all the hints I've ever made - You look at his face and see complete confusion. Okay, maybe you need to be even more obvious. - also, quite silly, first year at Heartslabyul and my best friend. I think this description fits." A couple of seconds and you see his eyes widen. He gets into a sitting position and just looks at you with his mouth open. He tries to catch his eye on something, and looks at the group photo of your first-year group when he slowly begins to open his mouth. "If you call Deuce now, I swear, Ace, I'll strangle you." He looks at you, dumbfounded, and you see his face turn red as he tries to crack a grin. Brushing his bangs away from his face, you gently kiss his forehead, then lightly slap him. Okay, now he obviously understands what you're talking about. Well, now he can be sure that you will choose him, right?

Deuce Spade

He is so good, he is very glad that you are respected and many people want to help you often! He's a little wary, but that's only because he doesn't want any of these students to have malicious intentions. He had definitely saved you a few times from a group of students you didn't really want to talk to. “Sorry, but it’s time for Yuu and I, bye.” And he simply led you by the hand away from these people. Despite this, you even heard some rumors about you and your best friend a couple of times. This is to be expected isn't it? But you decide to simply not pay enough attention to these nonsense. You literally never noticed anything strange in your friendship with him, so why do it now because of some rumors? But believe me, if he hears any of this gossip, he won’t care who exactly started it. He won't let some students spoil the reputation of his best friend. (I think he didn’t fully understand the nature of this gossip, but he didn’t delve into it) He also saw very often when some students gave you letters/any other gifts. It's none of his business, but he's still interested. He's also happy to hear about how you spent the day with some new friends of yours. He's your best friend anyway, so why would he worry about someone he doesn't even know? On Valentine's Day, he didn't expect that an ordinary walk around campus with you would turn into some kind of fan meeting. He wanted to spend time with you and then go to your dorm and have a sleepover together, so why have some students been blocking your entry for half an hour? At some point, he just grabs your shoulders from behind and tells other people, “He's engaged. Isn't it time for you all to get away from him?” After which he takes you away from them and you can finally exhale. Already in your dorm and getting ready for bed, he finally decided to check his phone. The only thing he didn't take into account was that other first years would start tearing up his personal messages. Having opened one of the dialogues and read half of the messages, he realized that he had made a small mistake. Now these same people who confessed their eternal love to you a couple of hours ago are talking right and left that you are engaged to HIM. Perhaps it was a big mistake to use a word with a similar but not direct meaning. He wouldn't have started to worry if he hadn't realized that now you were involved in this too. Now he won't sleep. Do you already know? He turns to you and sees that you are also already going to bed. Seeing how you are almost falling asleep trying to ask him if everything is okay, something is happening to him. He'll talk to you about it tomorrow, yes. Okay, no, he's not ready for this at all. How do you tell someone that you are now rumored to be engaged to your best friend? Moreover, in the morning most of his acquaintances and even his third-year students texted him about this. He should DEFINITELY talk to you about this. When you walk back into your room after showering, you are greeted by your tense friend. Looking at each other, you break the silence. “..Deuce? Something happened?" you sit down next to him, trying to towel dry your hair. "Sorry. I… didn’t want this to happen.” he hands you the phone and you read a couple of messages from Cater. Deuce expects a strong reaction from you, maybe even that you raise your voice at him, but all you do is a short grunt and you continue to dry your hair again. Fine. What? “Yuu, is everything okay? Aren’t you mad or something?” he turns off the phone screen and watches your reaction. "Mmm? Oh yeah, it's okay.” You react completely differently than he thought. Why? “Don’t make that face, seriously, it’s okay. If these people don’t come near me and don’t interfere with us spending time in a place, I could well be engaged to you. Of course, if you feel comfortable" You get up and continue with your weekend routine while your friend seems to be having an existential crisis.

You literally just said that you wouldn't mind being engaged to him. Wow, like… cool. He feels his cheeks begin to burn. “If it’s okay for the two of us, then I agree.” He hears you laugh quietly and, passing by him, ruffle his hair. He, now like your beloved, is ready to help in any of your adventures if it means that he can spend more time with you.

Jack Howl

He's glad that you are respected, that's good. But he doesn’t understand why all these people need to get into your personal space. He even stopped counting how many times he had to pull you away from particularly annoying people who do not have the concept of a “comfort zone.” The number of times he rolled his eyes while another student confessed his sympathy for you has long exceeded one hundred. To be honest, he's not even sure what they're hoping for. Like, they talked to you for half a day, didn’t they? He is of the opinion that actions are needed instead of words and he has told you this more than once. Let all these exclamations of admiration turn into real help, then it will be possible to listen to what exactly these people are saying. He definitely had to take you away from these people. Like “we have to go” and he would just gently grab you by the shoulders and lead you away from the students. Valentine's Day becomes more unbearable. You decided to spend your time with each other, but before you even reached your dorm, you were invaded by several students. Okay, maybe I shouldn't even go out today. You look at your friend and try to get silent help while some unknown student continues his declaration of love. Jack blinks a couple of times and simply nods back at you. He carefully reaches out his hand to you and lifts you into his arms. The now silent group of students watch as the two of you simply walk past them, heading towards the mirror. Already in your dorm, he raised this question. “why don’t you just leave if you don’t want to spend time with them?” he looks into your face and for a second realization comes. “..although there are people who do not accept no at all, I understand.” He follows your figure with his eyes as he sorts out the gifts he has received during this half-day. “When you’re close, they fall behind a lot faster. Maybe you should help me more often like today?” He feels his tail begin to twirl from side to side. “I don’t remember becoming your guard.” Even so, it wouldn't be bad. Your friend is safe and spending time with you, isn't that better than what's been happening lately? A light laugh comes from your side and he turns his gaze to your face. “Well, today you certainly became my knight. Don’t you want to save me from unpleasant people more often? In return.. – You straighten up and look from your friend to the mountain of almost sorted gifts. – In return, you can get all this, and of course me and my safety.” You start laughing as you see how fast Jack's tail is moving. Maybe this isn't a bad deal after all? You take the box of chocolates and sit next to him. “I won’t have to do all the work for you, okay?” His scowl meets your mischievous one as you rise in your seat and place a short kiss on his ear. “Of course, my knight. So what did we want to do before that?” Okay, your popularity MAY be bringing some very good things, but he definitely won't tell you that.

Epel Felmier

PROPERTY SKEPTIC These people want to be friends with a pro best friend? Okay, but fan clubs, crowds of people.. You remind him of Vil. Every time he wants to spend time with you alone, not in your dorm, there will always be at least one person who thinks that he would be useful on your walk with HIM. The "look don't touch" rule becomes the rule “communicate, but not close.” You know, that judgmental side eye? Yes, that's him. Epel doesn't even hide the subtitles from his face, seriously. Every time someone comes up to you to meet/talk, he looks like this: 🙄🤨🧐🫤 Yes, okay, he knows that his best friend is cool, and now let these people leave and not waste oxygen. Okay, jokes aside - he is glad that you are respected and loved, the main thing is that these people do not cross the line of what is permitted. Valentine's Day makes this even worse. Perhaps running away from your dorm to spend time with you in peace and quiet wasn't the best idea. More precisely, the idea is very good, but its implementation is terrible. Epel completely forgot that if you are popular, attention to you will increase one and a half times on Valentine's Day. Therefore, he has been waiting for twenty minutes for the next student who stopped you in the corridor to leave you behind. Epel understands that it’s Valentine’s Day, romance, etc., but doesn’t the person see that you’re in a hurry now? Very often Epel wishes he were much taller, but in such situations this desire becomes very loud in his head. If he were, for example, like Jack, then he could calmly lead you away from these people, but due to his appearance and short stature, the students do not even take him seriously. The only thing he wants now is to take you away from here and finally take a break from all these annoying people. If he could, he would have already drilled two holes in this student's head. Okay, maybe his patience is running out. He comes up to your side and reaches out his hand to your face when he hears your interlocutor shut up for a couple of seconds. Very good. Turning your face towards him, he presses his lips chastely to yours as his gaze focuses on the silhouette across from you. A risky idea, but it should work, right? Moving away from you, he takes your elbow and finally looks at you. "anything else? Or can we finally go?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulls you further away from the other man as he stares at the backs of the two of you, dumbfounded. He'll definitely explain himself to you for his actions, but as long as he's pulling you by your hand, he doesn't really think it was a bad idea.

Sebek Zigvolt

You are not as popular as Malleus 🙄/j To be honest, he doesn't really care. Are you treated with respect? Okay, that's right. He doesn’t care much about the rest as long as no one bothers you. Very often, when you spend time with him, almost no one approaches you. No, they are not afraid of him, they just know HOW noisy your best friend can be, so they decide to talk to you alone. Which doesn't happen often. Do you have a fan club? Cool, but it's not as big as Malleus's. /j I repeat, as long as nothing threatens you and no one crosses your boundaries, he is completely calm about your popularity among students. Although I'm more than sure that during any declarations of love, he stands behind you and looks at what is happening over your shoulder, lol Valentine's Day is passing… strange? Like, yes, you're used to other people's attention, but now you just wanted to relax with your friend, and not listen to another tirade about love and admiration for you. You definitely feel how he begins to straighten your tie while some friend of yours tells you about his feelings, stuttering over his words at that moment. Like, yes, love, whatever, but you should at least look neat, right? As soon as he puts you down, his gaze moves to the other person's face. “Are you finished?”. You are definitely grateful to your friend when you finally walk into your dorm with him. Now, you need to decide where to put all these gifts. Your friends may eat the sweets, but what about letters and other gifts? You take a couple of letters, print them out, and sit down next to your friend. Compliments, praises, and invitations to dates sound the same, no matter what kind of letter you take. When you finish reading another letter, you hand it to your friend before throwing away the other envelopes. His eyes run over the sweet lines of his next confession and he speaks out loud in a calm voice. “I don’t think any of them took writing lessons. A true knight will not use the same word to describe your appearance, character and behavior. At the very least it hurts your ears.” He hands you this letter and leans back on the sofa. You have to become popular with more talented people, you know? “Are you saying that you would have written much better? I would look at it." You see him frown and roll his eyes. “Obviously I could have written it a lot better. Knowing your good sides, I would calmly emphasize them in my declaration of love.” He hears you laugh and continues your game. “Will you write one for me, Sebek? I would be flattered" He snorts, his voice loud and proud throughout the room. “Of course you would be flattered. You will receive it, and you will understand how bad the ones that were given to you before are, human.” Maybe, after all, your popularity is useful and not so much of a hindrance?

The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @

[riki-riks-chick]

hi ! can you please write about attentionwhore!reader with tsundere!heeseung?

I was thinking reader teasing her bf (hee) by wearing/trying on skimpy clothes and asks him questions like “do my boobs look nice in this?” or “does this make my ass look big?” just to tease him?

or you could do whatever you’d like ! ❣️

Dressing Rooms ┃L.HS

heeseung x attention whore!reader

reader takes her bf heeseung with her to go shopping w the intent of teasing him.

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Being Heeseung's girlfriend isn't necessarily hard, but it isn't always easy either. He's usually so enamored by video games, not paying much attention to you, but when you have his attention... You have his attention.

You asked him to come shopping with you today, out of innocent intent. At least it was innocent at first.

But when you noticed how shy he got just being around other women who were either looking at skimpy mini skirts or trying on revealing outfits, you simply couldn't resist teasing him.

"Heeseung, will you come help me." You peeked out of the dressing room, watching Heeseung glance up from his phone as he got up, pocketing the device before stepping into the dressing room with you.

"What do you need?" He asks as you turn around, showing the laces of the corset top you were trying on. "Can you lace it tighter?"

He simply nods, tightening it as instructed before glancing at your relfection in the mirror.

"Should I get this? Does it make my boobs look bigger?" You question as he gulps visibly, nodding.

You decide to tease him even more, undoing the top right in front of him as he looked away. "Oh sorry.. I figured it wouldn't bother you since we've seen each other naked before..."

You proceeded to take off the top, setting it in the pile of clothes you were buying before undoing your pants and tugging them past your hips.

Heeseung simply sat on the bench of the dressing room, watching as you practically gave him a strip tease. This whole moment had him question how he was even with you when he was such a loser. He was so boring compared to your overly interesting personality.

He got distracted staring at your ass and suddenly he felt his pants grow tighter around him. You had noticed almost immediately, but decided to feign ignorance and get him even more worked up.

"What about this skirt?" You pulled on the almost belt-sized miniskirt, and Heeseung's jaw went slack. "Fuck." He whispered under his breath, but you heard it. Of course you heard it.

"Doesn't this skirt really do my ass a favor?.." You ask and he nods, trying so hard to keep his mouth shut. He wants so badly to press you against the wall and fuck you right now.

"Heeseung.. You seem distracted..." You take off the skirt, setting it down before turning towards Heeseung.

Except now you're only in your matching undergarments. Pink and lacey. Two things on you that you know always turn Heeseung on.

His eyes followed yours as you glanced at his erection.

Your fingertips met his chin, lifting his gaze to meet yours as you kissed him softly. You could feel him melt against you as he grabbed you by your hips, squeezing ever so lightly.

"Baby.." He pulled away, glancing between you and the tent in his pants as you smiled. "If you want... I can take care of it..?" You suggested.

His eyes went wide, almost scared of the risky idea. "We're in a dressing room.."

"All the better..."

═════════════

[bouncybongfairy]

Werewolf Ghost looses control on the full moon and fucks the new recruit. New recruit doesnt know who it was cause they were face down in the dirt the whole time getting the best fuck of their lives.

Brainrot

Animal Like Rage

Werewolf Ghost x Fem Reader

Summary: As a new recruit you hear alot of tales and stories about Ghost on the feild. You chalked it up to overexaterations based on his intimidating apearance. After being paired for a mission with him, you see first hand these account, if anything played-down.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Sex in Forest, Masocistic Ghost, Blood Kink.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Everyone knew that there was some underlying reason why they called Simon ‘Ghost’. As a new recruit you heard stories about seeing Ghost do remarkable things on missions. Ripping a man's throat out with his teeth. Beating men twice his size into an unrecognizable pile of messy flesh. While hanging out with other recruits, they would exchange rumors heard about him. After hearing all the tales you came to the conclusion that it was all just over exaggerations. Maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to comfort yourself for the upcoming mission you had with Ghost. All your friends were making a big deal of it. 

As if he was going to chew you up and spit you out or something. The two of you were driving towards the perimeter you’d be guarding. It was actually quite a picturesque section of forest. Lots of trees and wildlife living among them. The mission was to simply look out for the assailants if they fled in your said direction. The two of you both knew it would be a boring night. The sun had set about an hour ago, and the moon was beautiful. Full and completely illuminated the sky with its burnt yellow tone. 

“It’s really nice tonight right I mean, look at the moon-” you started to make conversation but then realized Ghost was no longer with you. 

Your initial reaction was that he was fucking with you. Trying to pull a fast one on you so he could entertain his friends with a story of a gullible recruit. You called out his name a couple times over coms but got no response. Yelling his name out wasn’t an option, seeing as that could give away your location. For about 20 minutes you continued to check the perimeter of the area but to no avail. Eventually you decided to go into the forest to look for him. Starting to get uneasy, feeling like you were seeing things out of the corner of your eye. You stumbled across both of Ghost’s guns placed upright against a tree. 

Immediately you bend down to investigate the scene. As soon as your knees hit the ground, you felt someone on top of you. Hitting the ground so hard, it knocked the wind out of you; rendering you completely disoriented. The taste of copper started to flood your mouth. Immediately you assume it’s one of the target’s men. Especially when he ripped the radio off your vest. You reach down for your knife and go to fight back. However, he uses his palm against your back; shoving your upper body against the dirt. You tried to get up but the person’s strength was unparalleled, like a cement wall. Heavy breathing and growls could be heard from above you. 

Ghost’s mind was wrapped in a fog of lust and greed. Ever since he first saw you,  he knew he wanted to lay much more than his eyes on your body. He had so much pent up sexual aggression that he’d been carrying for weeks. He was practically shaking with anticipation, he ripped your pants off. His claws leave abrasions on your hips and upper thighs. Blood starts to create droplets along the vertical lines. Only to be smeared by his hands gripping your sides, lifting your body and forcing you to change positions. Grabbing your hips and forcing you onto your knees. The dirt and mulch from the forest floor cutting up your skin. 

He grabs your ass and spreads you apart, watching as you desperately try to get away. Not wasting any time, he shoves his cock into your entrance. Loving the way you squirm and clench around him; not used to the burning and stretching. Most of you was scared but there was a small part that found this exhilarating. Being bent over in the middle of the forest while you were supposed to be on guard. Apart of one of the deadliest task forces to ever exist but still being used like a bitch in heat. 

He began rocking his hips in and out of you, loving how your tight pussy hugged his length. Like you didn’t want to let his member go. His bloody hands grip onto your ass, his claws digging into the soft flesh. He was growling and snarling; drool dripping from his mouth and onto your back. He’d been watching you for a while, walking around the barracks practically half naked. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to get you alone and when he found out you two were together on this mission… It was like fate was trying to satisfy his hunger. He loved watching you, completely in submission for him. Your face was buried in the dirt and your blinks were slow. Gradually becoming more braindead and pliable. So cock-drunk that you were pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. 

“Such a little pain slut, you want more?” he asked, voice raspy and low. 

His thrusts were so hard his thighs were spanking your ass, starting to leave the skin reddened and raw. His hip bones leave bruises from them assaulting your skin. You were going in and out of consciousness, his tip hitting your cervix is what brought you back whenever things went black. He was starting to get sloppy, losing rhythm and frantically groping your body. Pushing your body flat against the ground and pile driving you. You never felt someone so deep inside you, like he could literally rip through you. 

Having no control of the situation but loving every fucking second of it. The burning feeling in your stomach boils into your climax. Holding your breath while trying to rub yourself against the ground; overstimulated and desperate for any type of friction. Seeing you becoming so disheveled and desperate made him cum. Letting his body weight fall onto you, bucking his hips and growling into your ear. Once he’d finished up, he got the both of you dressed and carried you back to the safe house. Where you were treated for injuries sustained by a ‘animal attack’.

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 16. Alex SDV (Dry Humping)

Pairing: Alex / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,388 Warnings: dry humping, established relationship, ab riding, public Prompt(s): 09 — dry humping Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: alex my beloved </3 i feel like he's not written enough, including by me. he's just so precious though ughh i wanna dote on him forever n ever, so ty for giving me this opportunity !! i hope you enjoy <3

One of the best benefits that comes from living on the farm with you is the extra room he gets all to himself, separated from the rest of the place, secluded behind the admittedly large house in privacy. Sure, he had his own room back at his grandparents house too; but it was nothing like this! His favourite part is the little retreat you had made solely for him, an outdoor gym fashioned specifically for his own needs. It's great, even. Fucking fantastic to be able to walk outside early in the summer morning, the sun already beating down on him harsh enough to cause his shirt to suddenly go missing, sweaty back sticking to the bench under him as he lifts heavy weights above his head. This, is love.

It's perfect, in all honesty. And he couldn't ask for more, not when you've provided him such adequate space to get in all of his workouts, morning, noon, and night.

Except, as his workout continues and you still yet remain on his lap, squirming around in the heat, he has the audacity to ask for something else.

"Can you, uh... Can you get off, please?"

It's not that he's uncomfortable with you sitting there, the additional weight from your body on top of him provides an interesting challenge to his usually straight forward and routine work outs. It's just... Well, fuck, he's getting hard under you, isn't he? Sweat trickling down his toned body, muscles tight and engaged as he does his best to focus on not fucking dying by dropping the weights on his chest, and yet all he can seem to concentrate on is how his dick twitches so nicely against your clothed cunt, tenting in his pants if not for your ass sitting squarely on top, inadvertently grinding on him with his lifting movements. All he can think about is; already? You've just woke up, haven't you? And you need him already? So fucking hot to him, God.

And is request isn't so much of a complaint as it is just trying to stay safe, y'know? Wouldn't wanna accidentally hurt you if he were to drop anything. Confident that he wouldn't, but he cares too much about your safety to put you in harms way like this, despite the fact that it's your fault he's so hard right now. The summer sun surely basking you in all its warmth too, uncomfortably so, right? That's why you're wearing barely anything at all, his brows knitting together when you pout down at him so cutely that his tummy fills with butterflies. You know exactly what kinda buttons to push, don't you?

"Don't wanna." You reply simply, sharply. Stating, more like. Akin to telling him: no chance. Which is fine, really, he loves spending time with you just as much as you seem to enjoy making his life more difficult, his heart skipping a beat at the way you knowingly shuffle around on his lap, an exasperated sound escaping him in response. A moan? Probably. Though he'd be hard pressed to admit it when he's supposed to be working out. Which you can clearly see, obviously. And besides, he can't rightly fuck you in public like this, right? What if someone was to randomly show up while he's balls deep in your tight, wet, warm, little cunt. Milking himself inside of you, forcing your cute body into a tight mating press on his bench—

Fuck, he's not helping himself. Forcing his arms to push up again, letting them fall back down slow and controlled, determined to move forward with his workout in spite of your ass wiggling on his obviously rock hard cock. Cool pre tacky on his skin as your ass coaxes fat beads out, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you giggle sweetly down at him.

So you do know what you're doing to him. "Makin' it difficult for me, babe." He warns you, but his tone is light-hearted and full of love, ending with half laughter before he's lifting the weights again, huffing and puffing with the amount of strain and sheer focus it requires not to fuck up into your covered cunt with every bench press. But he resists, if only to make your life a little more difficult too. This, too, is love.

"I know." You beam down at him, and he's hit with a sudden realisation. He doesn't think he's ever loved anyone, or anything, as much as he does you. Especially right now, cursing you mentally over how well you know his weak spots, in love with the way your ass rides his cock so well, exactly how he likes. Despite it all, he feels lucky to have you, yknow. "Do you really want me to get off, or...?" You ask, gently digging your nails into his exposed chest, a pleasant pain that really helps convince him otherwise.

"God, no—" He ends up sighing, perish the thought. Bliss filling his lungs when you drag your nails down, leaving a pretty red streak over his abdomen, ending at his waist which you hold on to for stability. It's cute, actually, how heavily you rely on him for everything. For comfort, for stability, for getting off so early in the morning when you know damn well you have free reign to toys and pillows galore in the chilled farm house. And yet still, you decide to torture him with your pretty ass sat right atop his fat, throbbing cock. He can't say he blames you. If he had to choose between his hand or your cunt— it's not even a question. Your tight little hole wins every single time; but that's the thing—

You're not even properly riding him right now. Content enough to simply feel his outline pressed against your slit, biting down on your bottom lip so seductively that he can't help but gasp in response from how downright brazen you're being.

"Your training is paying off..." You eye him up and down suspiciously, but he knows what the underlying meaning of that look is actually trying to convey. He's given you the same one time and time again; you're fucking him with your eyes right now, aren't you? Pride swelling in his chest as you continue, blood rushing to his cock to throb against your cunt when you hum contentedly, as if just looking at his sweat soaked body gives you satisfaction. His tone is cocky when he offers you a lopsided grin.

"Yeah? Like what y'see?" He questions rhetorically, doing another rep just to show off his bulging muscles to your feasting eyes, smiling up at you when you nod your head so innocently despite straddling his covered cock. "I'd love t'show ya more later, babe. I'm almost done. Promise." He pants, placing the heavy bar back in it's home for a moments breather, though his hands still remain on the bar itself. Knuckles white from how tightly he holds it, an attempt to remain calm and collected in the face of your unbridled want for him.

But it's so hot seeing you like this, watching as you carefully crawl forward so that you're more sitting on his tensed tummy; which isn't a problem for him. He takes great pride in being strong enough for you, working tirelessly day in and day out to show you how fit and dependable he is for you. So as you take the opportunity to exploit his brief break by way of rocking your hips against his tummy slowly—really, barely noticeable! If not for how hard he stares at you with pure adoration—he feels a boost of confidence, his hands on the bar slipping a little not just from sweat, but from subtle need. Chest tight as you plant both hands there to keep yourself steady while you ride his abs, the sight of your bitten bruised smirk causing his cock to twitch some more, only he has the freedom of movement now that you're off his lap.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, too in love with the sight of you literally humping his abs to know what to say, mind a little numb as he dumbly asks; "Havin' fun?" because of course he knows you are, he can see the wide smile you adorn, can feel the way your thighs squeeze around his ribs, your feet kicking up to reach his hips. But he just feels so frozen despite the heat, doesn't wanna disturb you too much in fear of missing out on the show of a lifetime. Pretty baby just needs to get off, don't you? Wanna hump his abs till you feel better, s'at it? A deep sigh crawling up his throat as he forces his muscles to remain engaged, a hard surface for you to feel every ridge and bump— shit, you're probably leaking all over his tummy by now, right? Those little shorts you've got on are more than likely soaked through from how long you've been sitting on him, turning his tummy all sticky with your slick. God, that turns him on so much, to just watch you have your fun while he's forced to endure the sweet sexual tension below you.

"Atta girl," He encourages you with a brief wolf whistle, gasping into the feeling of your nails once again digging into him, only he's not so stupid yet as to not pick up on the different meaning behind them this time round. Feels good, doesn't it? To have him submit under you like this, let you bully him and push him around a little, interrupting his precious workout time just so you can selfishly use him to get off. It's fine, he thinks. Because he's having fun too, allowing you to take control of the situation by hooking your feet under him, giving you more precision to rub your clit up and down his washboard abs. "C'mon, you can go a little faster, can't you? Wanna see you really enjoyin' yourself." He coos, dropping one hand from its iron hold on the bar to softly prompt you into a quicker pace. Home on your waist, manhandling you up and down his abdomen enough to help settle you into a new tempo, something more similar to when he fucks you. That should do it, right? The wide, pretty smile you wear sure make it seem like it will, the beads of sweat trickling down your face making his throat feel dry as he's made to sit and watch.

But there's pleasure in that too, right? Below, he holds all the power. God knows he could easily lift you up off of his tummy, flip you over so that you're the one laying on the bench, and fuck you so hard that they'd hear you sob his name all the way from the town centre. And he knows that you know that too, which is why it's so fucking infuriatingly sexy to him that you're testing him right now. C'mon, wanna fuck me so bad, right? he can practically hear you taunt. And he does! Fuck, he does. Lust pooling under your clothed cunt, cock aching from how hard he's begging to be buried balls deep in your pretty pussy. Wants to stretch your hole so bad, force you into fitting him in just as you're forcing him to remain still right now. They're about as painful as each other, aren't they? A shaky moan slipping past his otherwise sealed lips when you gasp his name through a pout, begging with your eyes for a little more help.

And all he does is tut in return. A simple sound, lasting no more than a second. But the look you wear upon hearing it has his shorts bulging more, a cool breeze travelling through them from how fat his cock gets. If anyone were to show up right now, they'd surely be greeted to the sight of his taut balls and pulsing cock peeking out from behind barely there clothing. And it's all your fault.

"Thought you wanted this, baby? It's okay, you can do it. I believe in you" He faux pouts up at you, mocking your frustrated attitude when all you do is huff in response, bucking your hips faster still against him, really grinding your clit down and up his abs, and all he can think about is how he wishes it was his cock instead. How he'd treat you so well if only you hadn't been so impatient, and if only you hadn't tried to exude some non-existent power over him. You wanted to fuck with him so bad? Congrats, you made your bed, now lie in it.

Still, he loves you. Loves you so much that despite his want to watch you suffer, he can't help but yearn to comfort you. So, his other hand leaves the bar to hold your waist too, eagerly helping you into humping him silly with large, rough hands. Setting the tempo himself, practically fucking you without fucking you as he helps you ride up and down, his hips matching your glides a little in an effort to pretend he's actually fucking you too. So down bad for you, can't you see? That even the act of mimicking being inside of your perfect little cunt is enough for his breathing to grow laboured, his grip of your hips tightening as he feels you shake from under his unfair hold. Perks of being your husband, he muses to himself. He knows how to get to you too.

It's not long before your staining his skin with cum, gushing all over his tummy with gasps of air, a pretty smile on your lips from how he helps you ride it out. Nice and slow, grinding your slit against him until you pat for him to stop, hearts in his eyes as he watches you collect your breath enough to calm down from the early morning orgasm.

And yet still, he's hard. Uncomfortably so, if he's honest. Bouncing behind your back in an instinctive need to be tended to, his head thrown back when you shuffle down far enough to rest your ass against it once again.

"Your turn?" You ask sweetly, as if it was ever a question.

"Please, babe."

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I'm so glad we're finally meeting in person...." Rachel told her online boyfriend, Jason.

"You look even more perfect than I hoped. Sounds like your voice is dropping nicely, darling."

Rachel smiled. "Three months on testosterone will do a fakegirl good." She stuck out her estrogen-fattened moobs. "I'm horny 24/7. I used to never even get erections. I was such a good girl...."

"But deep down you're just a dirty sissy playing dress up. She me what you've done to yourself for me, angel."

With a deep breath, blushing, Rachel untucked her erect cock, pulling it out of her lacy panties. She let it stick straight out, eight inches, as Jason smiled. "Is it..... to your liking?"

He reached out, jerking it as Rachel trembled. Her cock was never more than a nub. She showed it online if men asked really nicely in her DMs or questioned if she was actually trans. Most people didn't believe her. Perfectly feminine voice, gorgeous face, full natural breasts, wide hips. People thought she was claiming to be trans for views, especially since you couldn't see any bulge in her bikini pics. She told her skeptics she went on puberty blockers by ten, and hormones at twelve. Not a drop of testosterone ever coursed through her system, that was, until Jason messaged her.

He told her he believed she was a fakegirl, a boy pretending to be a girl, and he wanted to help. Curious, Rachel played along with his transphobic little tangent. He kept misgendering her, telling her how beautiful she'd be as a detrans femboy. Still wearing girl clothes, makeup, looking like a girl but finally with a guy's voice, her real voice, as he put it. To get her silly fakegirl tits removed. Grow a cute five o'clock shadow that tells everyone who she really is. Instead of blocking him, she allowed herself to be led by his fantasies of detransitioning her. She slowly became corrupted by his messages, taking them to heart more by the day.

Soon in public when people called her a girl she started correcting them, saying she was born a boy and wearing girl stuff was like a kink for her. She used the men's room, and relished all the attention she got in there, even offering her mouth as a urinal. She started trying to get her cock going, rubbing it, pleasuring herself, but she couldn't get it erect. She complained to Jason and he told her she knew what the solution was. Scared by thinking more with her cock than anything, she publicly announced she was detransitioning on social media and started testosterone, and a healthy dose of dick-growth supplements.

Now she understood what Jason wanted from her. She was horny 24/7. Her cock was impossible to hide. She was starting to get correctly gendered as a boy because of her bulge and cracking, male puberty voice. By the third month she figured her cock was big enough to impress Jason, and invited him over.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," Jason said, jerking Rachel off. "How many times a day do you get off now?"

"Ten..... at least. I masturbate in public. On the train in my pretty clothes. I masturbate in the men's room. Sometimes I do it in the women's room just to get thrown out. I can't control my erections at all. I'm hard constantly. But I only want my cock bigger and even more out of control."

"You're just like every other pretty fakegirl I've done this to, you know?"

"What? I'm not the only one....."

"Of course not, princess. But don't worry, you'll love all my the other pretty detrans boys I have back at my estate. Once we get those embarrassing boy-tits of yours taken care of."

"Oh! Oh..... fuck! Thank you!" Rachel came as Jason aimed her cock up at her breasts and face. She made a mess all over herself and had no instinct to clean it. She panted in place, eager to please her boyfriend even more.

"You're welcome. Now, I think it's time I set you up with my friend Alex, who's a surgeon. He can have that chest of yours nice and flat in no time. Once you're ready, I'll introduce you to the others."

"Then what?"

"You'll be another of my slutty femboy whores, who I pimp out to rich politicians and businessmen who just love boys like you when they're away from their boring wives on business..... What do you say?"

"Sounds perfect...... I can't wait to fully detrans and whore my new body for you."

"Good boy."

[msmargaretmurry]

Mini fic 13. things you said at the kitchen table would be fun for matthew and leon, because another pair of my blorbos have several Important Scenes in the kitchen, so seeing how that setting is used for others is nice!

as i'm sure everyone has forgotten by now, eons ago i was doing this writing meme, and so many lovely folks left me prompts that i never got to because grad school destroyed my ability to write. but i am trying to get back in a creative groove so we're resurrecting it. so thank you for your patience/sorry about the wait i guess?? 😂 anway —

13. things you said at the kitchen table

“There you are.”

The kitchen had been so quiet that Leon jumps, looking up from his phone to see Matthew leaning in the doorway, eyebrows knit together with a frown. He’s bare-chested, barefoot, wearing the gray sweatpants that had been folded on top of Leon’s hamper, worn once but not dirty enough to put through the wash yet. There’s an array of teeth marks and mouth-shaped bruises down his torso, just starting to bloom with color. If he turned around, Leon knows, there would be a matching constellation on the back of his hip, disappearing under the waistband.

Leon tends to lose himself in the moment. Sometimes it’s a little embarrassing to see what he’s done afterwards.

Matthew tilts his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon looks at his phone again, somewhere in the middle of a mindless scroll through Instagram, then sets it aside. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

“Coulda woken me up,” Matthew says, that cocky little grin of his tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I woulda tired you back out.” He’s crossing the room as he says this, ignoring Leon’s eye-roll, pulling out a chair to sit down across from him. Elbows on the table, eyebrows raised. The only time he’s stopped looking smug all night is when Leon had him gasping and panting and moaning too hard to look anything but desperate. Which is stupid, because his team kind of got destroyed earlier, but maybe his face is just kind of stuck that way.

Leon doesn’t really get Matthew at all. He likes him well enough — a surprising enough thing on its own, and one that Leon is still reluctant to cop to sometimes. But there’s something impenetrable about him. He always leaves Leon feeling off-balance. Something about the way he walks into every room like there’s no reason he wouldn’t belong there, including Leon’s kitchen. 

The sex is great, though.

Matthew hasn’t spent the night before, but not for any real reason. Just lack of opportunity. Leon usually likes sharing a bed when he has the chance. 

Matthew nudges his foot under the table. “Hey.”

Leon blinks at him. “What?”

“You sure you’re awake?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ awake,” Leon says, and kicks him back.

“Well then act like it,” Matthew says, catching Leon’s ankle briefly between his feet. “Is everything okay?”

Leon opens his mouth to say yes, but then he takes a moment to consider the situation, and instead he says, “This is a little weird, isn’t it? You and me at the kitchen table?”

“Well, it’s not my fault we’re not still in bed.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s mostly weird because it’s the middle of the night.” The way that Matthew’s curls fall in his face is distracting. Makes Leon think about how they feel tangled in his fingers. He’d be disappointed if Matthew ever cut his hair short. “You know I’m leaving at the end of the season, right?”

This startles Leon more than Matthew’s sudden appearance two minutes ago. “What?”

“Contract’s up. Bye-bye Calgary.” Matthew shrugs with an extremely measured amount of awkwardness. That— that’s why he’s so fucking confusing. Even his sincerity feels like an act sometimes. But even more than that—

“Why?”

“It’s too fucking cold, I’m homesick, and my coach hates me.”

“No, mean— really, he does?”

Another shrug. So helpful.

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

“I’m trying to make you pay attention to me,” Matthew says. “Geez, why do you think I’m here?”

Leon raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t get enough attention earlier?”

A tiny grin. “No.”

“So where are you going?”

“Dunno yet.”

“Is that true or are you just not telling me?”

Another shrug. A slightly larger, smugger grin.

“You think I’ll miss you?”

“Nah. You’ve got Davo to keep you warm.”

“We’re not—” Leon ignores Matthew’s dancing eyebrows. “Seriously, why are you telling me this?”

Matthew kicks his foot under the table again. “Come back to bed. We’ve got, what, two games left this season? I’m trying to get the fuckin’ in while I still can.”

“So you’re going somewhere far away,” Leon says.

“Dude, you’re in Edmonton,” Matthew says. “Everywhere is far away.”

“I meant, like, out of the conference.”

Shrug. The temptation to reach across and hold Matthew’s shoulders still is so strong. Instead Leon just meets his gaze, trying for the umpteenth time to figure him out. It doesn’t work, so he looks again at the collage of bruises spilling over his collar bone. He’s changed, in the couple of years they’ve been doing this. His body used to be wirier, but now he’s starting to fill out like a grown man. Leon can feel it on the ice, when he hits him, and in bed when he fucks him. He used to be wilder, more immature, more willing to sacrifice the play to be annoying, but he’s honed that down to an art. Whatever team gets him is going to be blown away by what they find behind his reputation. And Leon— well. It’s strange to feel so acutely that in the grand scheme of things he’ll just be an anecdote in Matthew’s life. It doesn’t bother him, exactly. It’s just a strange little moment. He’d thought, maybe stupidly, that they’d be doing this for years to come. Battles of Alberta and all that. But somehow it makes a lot more sense this way.

“Come on,” he says, standing abruptly. He catches Matthew by the arm on his way around the table, pulling him along back toward the bedroom. Matthew shakes the grip off, but catches his hand instead. In bed, he kisses Leon like he means it, but there are a lot of ways to mean something.

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation

I can't believe I finally did it. I was so afraid to use my powers I got and now look at me. A fat kid like me would never walk around like this. Parading around

I still feel guilty though

14 hours ago:

My family spoke about receiving my powers for many years. They all got their chance for a few years when they were young but one day their power run out when they got too old. It took a few years for each person.

But now I was the youngest out of our family and they all were looking forward to use my powers to swap them into younger bodies. I hated this idea, cause they usually picked a family they knew and replaced them. What did my family do with the other swapped family are you asking? You don't wanna know.

And that's why I escaped the night before my family got their hands on me. I couldn't let another family get killed of like so many before. I just have to swap soon enough before my family finds me a tries to use me for themselves. Unfortunately it won't be easy, cause after centuries of swapping, they got themselves into the higher class and got enough money to do whatever they wanted.

I ran through the forest with my backpack and got to the nearest road. It was the middle of the night and there weren't cars nearby. I walked for an hour and arrived to a 24/7 diner. Perfect. I can hitchhike from here.

The only three people in the diner were the chef, waitress and some guy. He looked like a bussiness man coming from some trip. Sipped his coffee, maybe heading somewhere and trying to get some cofein to not fall asleep behind the wheel.

I aproached him:"Hey, I was just wondering if you were taking hitchhikers by any chance?" I asked with a shaky voice.

He looked at me with his exhausted eyes:"Where are you heading? Got a name kid?"

"North," I exclaimed, " and the name is Kenneth. Nice to meet you."

I saw a spark in his eyes. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Really? North? There isn't anything but wilderness for miles." I didn't respond. And just nodded. He continued:"Well we got a lot to talk about then"

We headed to the car. He was driving a black Toyota. That's all I could say about that car. I knew shit about cars

His car was clean, but he had a lot of bags in the trunk. Probably from the business trip, I thought.

An hour of smalltalk about my life and himself followed. His name was Matthew, and he worked as a marketer on west coast. He quit university a few years ago and went on to get more money. From the talk all I could notice was the way his hands moved, his beautifully manly hands. His biceps was carefully wrapped around by the blue short sleeve of his T-shirt. I could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his beard and continue to his chest. Burry myself there. I wondered if he was hairy there just as his arms were.

As I was dreaming about this beautiful specimen I didn't even notice that he made a few slight turns. As he kept talking and I was admiring him, out of the pitch black forest a diner emerged. The same diner we came back from.

I looked at him horrified

"You didn't think that your parents would let you get away? Sorry for the change of your plans for the vacation, but your family needs you and I was promised a lot of money. So I gotta get you back."

Fuck. No. I can't let this happen. I can't go back. I gotta find a way out of here.

The doors were locked, so there was no way I was getting out of there. Begging didn't seem like a valid option. I noticed the time 2:09. It's my birthday. I wonder. If this doesn't work then I am dead. If I don't do anything my family will use me. I can't let the happen.

I concentrated hard enough. I have never swapped before, but I knew how from my family. They all went through it many times.

I felt warmth coming straight from my head, following to my hands.

We were few miles from my home

Now or never

I jumping at him. My right hand grabbing the wheel and turning it to the right. My left hand grabbing his shoulder.

A moment of darkness. For a short glimpse I saw my own face shocked and screaming. Then we hit the tree.

I got out of the car as soon as possible. My body didn't move. I killed him. I did the same thing, like my family to all the others.

I ran to the backseat, grabbed my backpack a ran striaght to the forest. I could hear sirens in the distance. I have to run now.

Present

I think it has been far enough for now. The forest ened with a beautiful large meadow between two massive mountains. Sun already shined and I could slow down for a minute.

I took off my ripped shirt and jeans. If someone saw them they would think that a bear attacked.

In my view were now two beautifully sculpted hairy pecs and even more beautiful abs. I went through every ridge my fingers found. The skin was tigh and warm. After the run I completely forgot I was now Matthew. Not Jake anymore. But Matthew. Beautiful hot sexy Matthew.

I spoke out. What a manly voice I now possess I though. My hand touching my neck and the other my lips and beard as I spoke. I smelled my armpit. The stentch of sweat was extremely strong but erotic. I went to admire my new hairy legs. I slowly started from my strong thighs, through the thick carpet of hair covering them, following to my new feet. I took off the shoes. My feet are massive now.

The last thing I didn't see yet was already awaiting hard. I got completely naked. There I was. A man! A hot sexy man. Sculpted like a statue with a hard and large dick in hand. I jerked off slowly and with my other hand I kept on exploring the already touched areas. I went on to masturbate rapidly just until the streams of cum kept pouring out off me.

I stood there smiling, laughing.

And then the clarity hit. I took Matthew's life. I did that to stop my family, but that didn't make it easier.

There was no going back now. I took my backpack and the rest of my clothes that weren't destroyed, hoping I would get a chance to get some on the way.

"I am Matthew Daniels and I am on a vacation. I am Matthew."

I went into the beautiful nature to continue my journey. I still feel guilty. Maybe the feeling will pass. I hope...

[cosmiccowboystuddies]

the sunshine court notes

first things first riko needed to be brutally beaten to death, a shot was too quick

renee talked like a fortune cookie and it was pissing me off

i wish we got more of Wymack and Jean, it was very nice of him to get on the plane with Jean

jean immediately getting annoyed with basic life is really funny

jean is also really sassy and hilarious

also something weird happened in jeremeys house

my personally theory is that he had a sibling who died and his family thinks its his fault

like maybe an accident or maybe the sibling overheard something that they weren't supposed to and his sibling had to die as a result

whatever happened the butler knows about it and is trying to protect him

and whatever happened had to be bad because the act of dying his hair had his family ban him from the dinner table

neil believing his relationship with andrew as a strength his really good for his character, considering his mom was so keen on him not forming any connections

the fact that jean actually considered reaching out to his sister, only for him to learn that she was dead breaks me every time

and neil using her to force him into a belief that he doesn't deserve to belong to anyone but himself was a necessary cruelty.

i also like that Jeremey was the one who telling him about Rikos death was good

jean has no agency in the entire 1st act of the book, he is taken from the nest and basically held captive, then he is forced to go to the sunshine court, which he doesn't like but has to

the foxes all hide info from jean for his own good

and jeremey being the one to tell him is nice because jeremey is his first taste of freedom

jean talking about his abuse in such a casual manner is horrifying bc he thinks its so normal and its horrifying

" i didn't ask" broke me in so many ways because Jean doesn't particularly trust jeremey at the time, nor did it slip out while he was angry, he just said it so casually like it was normal

At first i felt bad for Lucas, but not so much anymore.

he was a sympathetic character who was trying to straddle a thin line of having faith in his captain and who he belives is a violent stranger and his brother who is not the same boy he know

but bringing Greyson to jean was soo fucking stupid it pisses me off

and the fact that jean wasn't even really fighting back, just trying to protect himself is upsetting

also the imagery of him punching the keypad over and over again just trying to get out is gutting

jean isn't a dog who bites, he's a dog who puts his foot to the fire because he believes that he is supposed to do

the water scene was sad as well because he was trying so hard to behave but physically could not

also Jeremey and really most people on the team meet his violence with unflinching kindness is really sweet

i also appreciate how jeremey doesn't force jean to talk about his trauma or even takes the notes from him, jean has had little to no control in his life since he was 15 and forcing him to talk about it when he wasn't ready would have made it worse

and jean asking jeremey to pretend was sweet and what was even sweeter when he did

jean learning to cook is nice as well because he needs life skills

theory for book 2: jeremey buys jean his freedom and jean becomes an exy coach ( more of a pipe dream i guess)

i also think Greyson will kill lucas

jeremeys saving grace being the thought of his sister deserving better is horrifying

i wish we got more of his relationship with Zane

neil is a real one because Jean compared Greyson to drake once, and Neil took care of it for him

jean being afraid of sleeping alone is so sad because he's basically been trained to sleep next to someone

and the fact that he has nighmares, but they are hardly mentioned, and jeremey is the one to bring it up is so sad

also kevin should have tried harder to reach out to jean

jean pushed away the foxes because he knew they would eventually leave him too

jean being steadfast in the idea that if he plays a good game he will have momentary peace is heartbreaking

jean holding onto his talent despite people thinking he slept his way to the top is also upsetting

i hope we get a zane and jean reunion bc i think they truly cared for each other

maybe kevin sends jean a postcard and a magnet and they can reconnect

also him realizing his very limited possesions have been destroyed made me almost cry

and the magnet scene with jeremey is very sad, but him realizing the magnets are broken make him realize that he is

kevin and jean still both being afraid of riko is telling bc riko is dead

let me know what yall thought... always willing to talk about all for the game.