#why can’t I actually enjoy drawing for once?

[dieselfang]

I need to write this down before I fucking forget because holy shit I just dreamt so vividly of a non-existent Murder Drones episode (which takes place after episode 8)

List of events since I can’t remember everything

N starts going to school with Uzi (not a very important note but I thought it was cute, Uzi helped N keep his tail from causing any damage by clipping it to his backpack)

N’s been having daymares/hallucinations

Uzi and V end up in a disagreement and start fighting I don’t know why

Uzi built these sick ass limb extensions that make her look like a disassembly drone

Uzi and Lizzy angst that I genuinely cannot remember the point of

N’s daymares become worse, as if he’s reliving every horror he’s faced in the past all at once

Uzi’s preoccupied with V for once again, reasons that I do not remember

The dream fucking cut to me actually watching the episode with my boyfriend??? I DONT REMEMBER ANYTHING ELSE IM GONNA LOSE IT

Legit this is why I actually become excited to fall asleep at night

I’m not super worried about nightmares because I take medicine that helps prevent them so going to sleep is something I actually enjoy

This dream was fucking awesome and I’m sad I couldn’t remember all of it, but I might draw Uzi’s limb extensions at some point cuz I thought they looked badass

[thesharktanksdriver]

Dicentra D. Boa

Content warning going in: implied rape, human trafficking, slavery, implied sexual assault, implied Sa of children, and massacres. It’s not talked in length or in detail but it is alluded to due to the Boa sisters backstory and Dicentra’s conception. I wanted to be sure to give a warning just in case because of the nature of these topics. If any of these themes are triggering please skip past the section labeled “Josephine” and go to “childhood” instead

Also sorry if she’s cringe or Mary sue but she’s my little blorbo and I love her. Writing her is also my excuse to write (and rewrite) about Boa Hancock because I think she’s underrated and I think her character could’ve been handled better by oda (this is in regards to her liking Luffy which is really weird since she’s a grown adult who fell in love with a 17 year old after being victimized through a decent portion of her life by adults)

General information

Name: Dicentra D. Boa.

Following after the flower naming convention of the Amazon lily, Dicentra is the scientific name of the bleeding heart flower. Her name was chosen by Hancock since dicentra’s birth mother didn’t know what to choose

The D. Is gained to her by her birth mother Josephine D. Etheus. Though Dicentra is apart of “the will of D” she has no idea about it due to the fact Boa swore to Josephine that no traces from her would connect back to Dicentra.

Age: 13

Dicentra was born a few hours before the mass breakout of Mary geoise when Hancock was 16.

Race: half-lunarian

Dicentra’s motherJosephine was a full lunarian captured in the massacre of her people. Despite Saturns extermination efforts a few celestial dragons wanted a lunarian as apart of their collection and were able to accomplish this secretly

Being only half lunarain attributes to her white hair and darker toned skin. But along with this it also acts as a reason as to why her wings are so small and why she doesn’t have an eternal spark.

She can’t create fire because of this, but she could control already lit flames if she needed to. But she has not found this out yet

(Fun fact is that whenever in a room with some type of fire, she subconsciously pulls that flame slightly towards herself. Kinda like how sunflowers face the sun, flames direct themselves towards her)

Personality: curious, sometimes oblivious, good hearted, optimistic, overly eager and a bit chaotic

As a young sheltered girl Dicentra is naturally curious of the world and just about anything she can get her hands on. She enjoys soaking in all of the knowledge of the great world beyond the Amazon lily, whilst also secretly yearning to see it for herself.

Another side effect of her sheltered upbringing is the fact she’s very oblivious to things. Whether that be wandering into a bad situation due to curiosity of something that caught her eye or just being unaware of concepts like men not being hideous monsters that’ll kill her (Hancock taught her this lol). Despite her being oblivious to these environmental concerns she’s actually very observant of others emotions when needed.

Unlike her mother’s cold and dominating facade Dicentra is very openly warm to those around her. She often times is found conversing with others around her, joyfully asking about things and recounting new stuff she discovered.

Along with this she can be very eager about whatever catches her eye. Leading her to blindly and stubbornly pursue it even at her own detriment (much to her mother’s and Nightshade concern). This has lead to her acting without foresight and acting on the first thing that entered her mind which can have varied results…like biting someone’s hand

Interests and hobbies: journaling, exploration, drawing, dance and song

Once more due to her interest in the world beyond the Amazon lily Dicentra has taken to journaling all she’s learned. When her mother brings her gifts from far off places she enjoys documenting everything she can about it. Of all subjects she loves writing about the most she enjoys exotic Fish, birds and gemstones the most.

Due to her journaling she ends up exploring places quite a bit. From the city of her home to the jungles and mountains she’ll explore. Some of it from blind interest and from plain eager stubbornness

Something gained from her journaling is her hobby of drawing. Though years of practice she’s gotten decent at drawing, though it’s less out of passion and moreso just for proper documentation.

Her real hobbies are that of song and dance. As a princess Dicentra had taken up many hobbies but the two that stuck with her are dancing and song. She enjoys dancing since it’s an active activity and picking up new instruments to learn and play.

She’s particularly fond of the Erhu (I’m taking in some Chinese inspiration due to the Chinese influence of the Amazon lily)

Habits and quirks: Manners, stiff posture, back issues, lack of shoes, playing with her hands, love of berries/fruits and tendency to put others before her

Dicentra as princess (though that title is moreso just a title since the Amazon lily leadership is based on strength rather than bloodline) she was educated to have proper manners. While she’s a tough and tumble kind of girl she still implores these manners in most social situations until she finds something interesting and throws manners to the wind.

Due to these manners she can sometimes also have a stiff posture in mix with her back pains. Hiding her wings is a hassle for her so binding them along with keeping a certain posture as to be sure their hidden is important. When around those she trusts she lets up a bit and is more relaxed but that’s if they know of her wings. If not she keeps up the posture to be sure they won’t be found

As stated above she gets quite a lot of back pain and jolts of discomfort due to her hiding her wings. It’s an unfortunate thing she has to deal with, something all the boa sisters feels guilty about but know it’s for Dicentra’s best interest in the end.

Despite being taught manners Dicentra can’t stand wearing closed toe shoes. She doesn’t mind sandals but she loves being barefoot much to her mother’s ire. Dicentra loves the feeling of grass and sand beneath her feet.

A nervous quirk she has is that she plays with her hands quite a bit.

Also is a giant sweet tooth for things but especially loves Berries, Fruits and her favourite food of peach buns with a custard filling. It’s definitely due to the D trait.

Another tendency she has is for her to value others above herself. As princess though it’s more of a title she believes that her mom and the Amazon lily comes first. She’ll put down or put away her own feelings and ambitions if it means she can’t help others. It’s the reason as to why she stayed in the Amazon instead of exploring like she wanted, why she asks questions about the outside world and sees glimpses of it through stories and objects instead of pursing it herself.

Relationships: Hancock, Marigold, Sandersonia, Nightshade, Rayleigh and Shakuyaku, Gloriosa, Salome and Ouroboros

Hancock: Dicentra has a very strong relationship with her mom and looks up to her as her hero (for various reasons). She loves her mom deeply for both her kindness and dedication to protecting the Amazon lily. She knows deep down her mom is a lot more tender than she lets on but puts up a front to protect everyone else (and herself). Even though dicentra wishes to explore the world she follows her mom’s rules of staying in the Amazon Lily knowing there has to be some reason as to why her mom is so insistent on it. Along with this she follows her mom’s rules of hiding her back and binding her wings even if it’s uncomfortable (something Boa wishes she didn’t have to make Dicentra do but does it out of necessity). Her favourite activity with her mom is having her mom brush her hair

Marigold: Dicentra loves her aunt Marigold but is sometimes a little bit intimidated by her. Granted she knows her aunt would never do anything bad but Marigold is sometimes too stoic for Dicentra to read which makes her nervous she’s doing something wrong. Unbeknownst to her Marigold very much loves her but gets worried of messing up and internally panics because she overestimated herself. Dicentra’s favourite memory with Marigold is when she taught her how to make flower crowns

Sandersonia: Dicentra loves hanging out with her Aunt Sandersonia. Unlike with Marigold Sandersonia is more in tune with her emotions so Dicentra is able to read her better and therefore know if she’s bothering her. If Sandersonia isn’t busy with something she’ll often tag along with Dicentra’s exploring of the Amazon lily and play games together. Dicentra’s favorite thing to do with Sandersonia is petting her aunts zoan tail

Nightshade (another oc): Nightshade is Dicentra’s sworn guard and protector assigned by Hancock herself. Dicentra sees Nighshade as her closest companion and as a big sister to her. Though Nightshade sometimes gets frustrated at Dicentra throwing caution to the wind and running off she knows that Nightshade doesn’t typically get legitimately mad unless something really bad happened. Nightshade beside the Boa sisters is the only one who knows of Dicentra’s wings and origins, something the bodyguard takes in the upmost seriousness. Dicentra knows Nightshade isn’t her original name but hasn’t pushed about the subject. Her favourite thing to do with Nightshade is playing hide and seek.

Rayleigh and Shakuyaku: dicentra knows very little about these two but does hold them in high regard hearing they helped her mom and aunts. The most funny thing about this though is that she has no idea Rayleigh is a male (boa taught her men were ugly evil creatures lol) . She’s never met them but she hopes to one day do so.

Gloriosa: dicentra sometimes sneaks out to see the former empress of the Amazon despite being a “traitor” to learn more about the outside world. Though she doesn’t like how her mom and Gloriosa don’t get along well Dicentra holds respect for Gloriosa.

Salome and Ouroboros: Dicentra adores Salome and all the snakes of the Amazon. Her fight or flight instinct of bite first ask questions later was somewhat developed due to watching Salome when she was younger. Dicentra has a snake of the same species as Salome named Ouroboros, aptly named for its penchant for…eating its tail all the time. No one has any idea why boros does this but Dicentra loves her beloved snake even if all it does is act as a necklace for her half the time. Half the time people don’t notice they’re alive if not for their occasional blinking. She loves petting the scales of Salome and Ouroboros, absolutely loves the texture

(Meme break before getting to serious stuff. Nightshade is also included here)

Backstory

Prologue: Josephine

Dicentra’s birth mother Josephine was a lunarian born on the red line and raised with her people. She lived atop the red line in peace for many years, she was particularly gifted in being a graceful flyer amongst others her age but lacked control of her flames. Despite the peace at a young age she could tell something was coming somehow, she had a sixth sense for that thing (observation Haki). Eventually when her people were massacred to build Mary Geoise atop her ancestral home she was taken by a celestial dragon who wanted one of her kind as “apart of his collection” even though that wasn’t technically allowed. This all happened when she was 15.

For Years Josephine was kept in a cell, wings broken and unable to conjure flames even if she tried due to being underfed and weak. She’d spent so long being toyed with and abused with no relief but an empty cell to return to when she was finished being “useful”. Eventually though she got cellmate in the form of the young Boa sisters. For the first time in years Josephine felt something as she stared at the young girls, mirror showing her how much of a shell of her former self she was. She used to be young and free, used to be afraid and now she had felt nothing in years. And staring into the fearful tear stained eyes of these girls she swore to herself they wouldn’t end up like her. Broken and empty.

In that cell in the span of months turned to years Josephine would do her best to protect the sisters. Though she could not always protect them she was able to lessen their suffering. She cared for them, began to see them as her own just as they began to see her as a mother in this hell. Through her wings were broken she’d use them as blankets for them in the damp cold of the cell. Josephine would share the little food she had with them. She’d also tell them stories of her people who once proudly flew the skies, sang in hushed tones the songs passed on from generation to generation. Hell had at least become bareable

Eventually much to her own fear and horror Josephine became pregnant. It at some point was bound to happen but all the same it horrified her for the fact she knew her child would be killed. A bastard to celestial dragon was purged for the fact of “tainting” their holy blood, and that was just for normal cases. She was a lunarian, the people they purged and were still actively being hunting down from how that devil gloated about “owning such a rare species”. She had to hid this and hope for the best, and that’s what she did with the help of the Boa sisters.

Somehow hiding her pregnancy was a task in of itself but it had been somehow done, but with that came the actual delivery. Weak and Malnourished as she already was without proper medical care in a dark cell wasn’t a good mix. She’s left at deaths doorstep clinging barely to life after the deed was said and done. The only upside to it all was she felt that sixth sense again, things were changing and her daughters would be free. Before letting herself rest she makes the girls promise to never tell her daughter of her heritage, to protect her and love her as she loved them. Tearfully the girls agree, Hancock vowing she’d raise Dicentra as her own. With how Josephine falls asleep the girls believe her to be dead, and in a way she is…but not fully yet

The mass escape of slaves happens and her daughters flee, through this all Josephine laid on deaths door in her cell. She was ok with dying, had for so long dreamt of such a thing, but anger had let her from not dying quite yet. Half dead and powered only by the knowledge she’d die Josephine gets up. Broken wings crack and move, the pain so blinding it became numb. She had to protect her daughters, had to erase all trace of them here lest a trail is somehow left. And despite never knowing to master her flames she ignites because she herself is the kindling. The already aflame Mary geoise is lit with newer more intense fire that burned to the fire. Josephine burns with mother’s rage and a single wish. Cleanse her homeland with flame just as it was meant to be oh so long ago.

Josephine kills her tormentor and bastard of a man who’s father to her daughter, watches the flames bath him in agony as she holds his face in burning hands. Scarlet eyes glaring down at him as everything burned, her once small flickering flame behind her neck so intense and big it hurt to look at and consumed the background. Flesh melts and blood sizzles in her palms. Josephine dies kneeling on the red earth of her home, staring up to the smouldering sky with broken wings and an outstretched hand to the heavens she so loved. Her scream echoes out among flickering flames and chaos, echoes and reverberates into the sky before turning to nothingness. She burns so intensely that nothing of herself and twenty feet surrounding her body is left besides ash, soot and a trail of bloody feathers littering the ground just outside the crater as her scream of agony faded.

Chapter 1: Childhood from the eyes of a mother

Dicentra grows up on a lie just as everyone else of the Amazon lily does. From the time she could walk and speak she’s told of how her mother and aunts slayed a fierce-some gorgon that had killed her birth mother which led to her being adopted. That gorgon cursed her mom, aunts and herself with a curse bared on their backs. For her mom and her aunts it’s an odd symbol and for Dicentra it’s her wings. But all the same Dicentra knows that her mom is her hero (and though that story is a lie it’s still true she’s her hero) and the young princess stared at her mother in awe and such innocence. It’s something that eats Hancock up inside, that she’s lying to her daughter about everything. Of her wings, her lineage and birth mother and yet she made that vow and she won’t go back in it.

All this leads to though is Hancock being fiercely protective of her daughter, not just for the fact of her blood but because she wants better for Dicentra. She wants her daughter to live happy not plagued by the burden and shame that she and her sisters suffers daily. The memories, the pain, the loss of it all. She wants Dicentra to live the life Hancock wished she had, of never being ripped away from a safe and loving home to be hurt over and over again. It’s why she keeps a close eye on her, especially in the early years where everything is still fresh in her mind of the escape. Perhaps she’s a tad overbearing at times but knowing her daughter is happy and safe within the walls of her nation is all that matters. But as time progresses she does become more lenient towards letting Dicentra do things on her own with the only condition being a bodyguard accompanying her.

At 6 Dicentra has Nightshade assigned as her personal bodyguard and protector. Before then it was randomly assigned guards or Salome who took over watching over the already curious and slightly mischievous young girl. Much to Hancock’s displeasure her daughter takes to running off into the jungles of the Amazon but at the same time she can’t help but be happy her daughter takes her freedom in such strive and not forgranted. Dicentra talks of all range of things she came across once she comes home, from rocks she found to bird feathers pressed in pages. Nightshade with now wild tangled hair standing beside Dicentra posed and proper even with a few leaves and sticks lodged in once straight black hair.

By 7 Hancock decides to have Dicentra be taught proper manners and help her find some hobbies that aren’t just running off into the brush. It’s there that Dicentra finds her talent in Dance and playing instruments, she specifically likes playing the Erhu traditionally played in the Amazon lily. It’s a hobby especially Hancock enjoys because it quickly becomes a source of calm when old memories plague her mind. Perhaps a lifetime ago she would’ve picked up the instrument as well, but now she resides herself to listening to old tunes that would play before that fateful day on a ship leaving home. Whilst she listens she holds her daughter, time seems to slip away and for once all is well for those minutes playing song.

At 9 Dicentra begins to do more things around the Amazon lily. Knowing the jungles area and documenting the plants she finds ends up being useful to apothecaries and doctors on the island. Along with this she starts to also help in delivering things and having a hand in public events. It’s here that she begins to realize what being a princess means even if it’s more a title than anything. To the Amazon lily her mom is cold and respected, the citizens of the island fear and love her and Hancock knows this. They don’t see her compassion behind closed doors but Dicentra does. If her mom is the cold and cool leader that in secret cared, then Dicentra would be a sliver in that door for others to see that kindness. She tells the truth, that her mom asked her to try and find ways to help the other kuja women. As princess the women of the island love her and she notices she means something to everyone there. For the women of the island Dicentra is their kind princess in contrast to their lovely but cruel empress, to Hancock Dicentra is what little hope is left in the world.

At 10 the young princess starts asking Hancock more about the outside world and it leaves the empress silently terrified. They aren’t bad questions, moreso just innocent ones of if places she’d been to were like home. But to Hancock they signify the end. She knew from the moment her bright eyed daughter began to run before learning to walk, began looking out to the sea on the horizon and climbed to the tops of the snake statues overlooking the entire tribe she’d one day be curious enough to leave. That this island would become too small to satisfy her need to see and experience the world. A selfish part of her wished that the luxuries she spoiled her with and the nights in which she’d hug her close whilst promising she’d always be safe here would disway her, but Hancock always knew because of the spark in her eyes that she’d one day leave. It terrifies her and yet she knows one day she’ll have to because she can’t take away Dicentra’s freedom just as hers had been taken. But for now she was safe, leaving was in the future but now she was safe in her arms.

By 11 Dicentra waits by the docks as Hancock sets off to yet another warlord meeting that would go nowhere. Hancock when her daughter was younger would leave her with Sandersonia as she and Marigold would set off into the ocean. But Hancock decides that this time her daughter was old enough to last a few days on her own (despite how terror still grips her heart). Nightshade swears she’ll look after the young girl and none of the Boa’s doubt that. Not when the ex-assassin turned bodyguard has the same look Hancock does when the young girl does something as simple as gifting a flower. It’s a look of wanting to protect something so desperately because it was one of the last pieces of kindness in their world. None of the Boa sisters trust easily, especially not Hancock, and especially if it came to her daughter. But Hancock trusted Nightshade, and that was a feat in of itself. And so Hancock sets off on her ship, trusting her beloved daughter to her bodyguard and ex-empress of the Amazon. Though it’s only for a few days Dicentra helps keep things afloat alongside Gloriosa.

Chapter 2: where the story begins

By 13 Dicentra knows the Amazon lily like the back of her hand. She knows every trail, bend of the river and cove there’s to find in the lush landscape populated by snaking vines and flowers. Pollen coats the air in sweet smells as the distinct smell of rain coming sets in for the young princess and her shadow. But the Rowling black clouds did little to dismay the young girl, if anything it only made her more excited as she quickened her pace and hopped over twisting roots. Having a storm in the calm belt was a rare occurrence, the lack of wind and still waters kept for a stagnant environment but once in awhile a storm would drift from the grand line and breeze briefly through the still water and die off. It made for decent rainfall and any occasional change in weather from the hot climate was always something welcome to the young girl. Nightshade would agree in that retrospect, from the few moments she talked of times past was she talked of a place described as an eternal flowering spring, not cold but not yet summer (though apparently a northern area had snow). So Dicentra raced to the many hidden beaches and coves of the Amazon lily.

its towering cliffs her beloved home had many secret coves beside the main waterway into the heart of the city. Many laid forgotten to time, old boats used generations ago laying still in soft sand that crunched beneath her feet. Typically there was no tide at these hidden beaches and coves, just stagnant water lifting at a certain level against the sand. No white foam decorating its edges like lace if not for the storm stirring the waves. She can’t help but giggle at the sensation, even if her stockings got wet in the ordeal. A few feet away nightshade stood as the wind blew past, still and silent yet eased by now dropping of rain on warm skin.

The rain is cool and refreshing, trailing down and leaving hair damp.

But calm only lasts a moment.

Typically when a storm blew through the calm belt it was mild at worst and calm rain at its least. It was almost always that way with nothing to keep feeding its trajectory as it fizzled out and died.

But sometimes depending on how large the storm was prior it could survive long enough to be just as powerful as it was in the grand line.

One second Dicentra is standing at the waters edge basking in the cool rain, the other second she’s dragged in by once cerulean blue waves that became crashing cold darkness. The void encompasses the entirety of her as she’s choked from air and the cold grasping at her bones. Instinct sets in immediately but the shock of near icey waves and pulling current tossing her like a rag doll make it impossible to do so. Helplessly she floats in near darkness as storm clouds blocked out sun and made the waters a chilling void. The image of complete utter darkness as she reaches blindly engraved itself in her mind. Never once has she felt such a fear of the dark. When she was younger she hadn’t feared it, rather was intrigued to explore it instead. But now it grips and drags her down down, down into is abyss.

But then a hand appears from the dark, Nightshade.

Twitchy and icey fingers grasp the stronger hand that then pulls.

She lands on the old rickety boat with a thud and immediately sea water streams out in pained coughs. Wind blows wildly tussling hair as waves crash against the edges of the boat. She can barely see over wet hair clinging to her face but she feels Nightshade hold her for dear life and above the yelling waves her protector screams to hold onto her with all she can.

Dicentra does as says and feels a colossal pain hit her before a once friendly darkness consumes her vision.

Chapter 3: turning point

Waking up is typically a calming routine for Dicentra. If mom wasn’t on a warlord meeting she’d brush sit down with her and her mom would brush her hair. It was a daily tradition, on in which her mother would hum quietly and gently comb through her hair. Sometimes she’d check to see if the pink dye of her hair was loosing its pigment, if so she’d ask if she wanted to leave it natural or dye it once more. Dicentra always opted to dye it again. Crushed up flowers mixed with imported hair products then used to stain once lily White hair again. That was their tradition together alongside at night having mom look at her wings and care for them. Apologizing as she helped her wings molt or placing a soothing cream on the sore hurting appendages. So waking up one morning with sunlight streaming on her face on linen instead of the familiar feeling of silk is odd. Not bad but it doesn’t make sense for a few moments as her sleep plagued brain thought through what had happened.

She remembered a storm, darkness gripping her, coughing up slat water that burned her lungs and then clutching Nightshade for dear life.

Nightshade!

Despite her body feeling like wet bricks Dicentra finds herself dragging herself from the small bed she was laid on. Blindly she reaches out expecting to find her closest companion besides her family. Instead though she meets something else instead.

Nightshade was a lithe person. beautifully strong despite her lack of visible muscles. She used to ask her shadow of a bodyguard how she was able to be so strong without being as muscular as aunty Marigold. The quiet woman would simply hum, saying something about she isn’t strong but has good instincts and reflexes. Point being in all of this the arm she grabbed wasn’t that of Nightshade, it was muscular

“Oh yoi? You’re awake finally.” The voice is weirdly deep and as her eyes adjust Dicentra is faced with someone crouching down to her level. Blue eyes stare at her from behind glasses….this was a weird looking woman.

This is where things would come into motion

I’ll leave it at this for now. But rest assured she has more story

[blueyedgrass]

Wow posting art here is kinda miserable!

[cuteniaarts]

What if… Suiren in Vaatu’s colours 😳👀

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[jwnzlvr]

you… want to try what?

pairing : bf!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

summary : toji wants to piss in you, you can’t say no to him. that’s it.

wc : 1k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), piss, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), PISSING INSIDE, degradation (use of bitch, slut, just treating reader as less), pussy slapping, not proofread

notes : where would you people be without me? JOKINGIM JOKING anyways for the toji piss kink enthusiasts… this one’s for u fam 🙏🏻 also this is messy i am aware. in tired. im running on like four cups of coffee, four hours of sleep and a blueberry muffin. please enjoy.

of all the things your boyfriend wanted to try out with you, this was one of the ones you didn’t expect he’d actually want. you both sat on your shared couch, your eyes wide with toji’s latest request.

“you… want to try what?” you spoke slowly as to understand toji. he only clicked his tongue at you and crossed his arms over his chest. “why do i have to repeat myself?” he groaned out before continuing.

“i wanna try pissin’ in you. like you know when i cum in you? that but with piss.” you couldn’t help the way your jaw slowly opened at how casual he sounded about this. yeah, he definitely didn’t sound like he’d just asked for something anyone else would consider very fucking filthy. 

however, you weren’t anyone else. your interest peaked at his request. you were just as filthy as toji, you couldn’t even keep acting like you were shocked. “okay. when do you wanna try this?” you asked, dropping the whole shocked facade.

“right now.”

and that’s how you ended up on all fours, his cock pistoning in and out of you from behind. your hands gripped at the sheets while your moans were muffled by the pillows in your face.

toji had a satisfied smirk on his face as he saw how you fell apart for him. “what’s wrong, baby? this dick feel too good for you?” he’d almost snicker at you. you couldn’t even come up with a response for him. he was right, the dick did feel too good for you.

he gave a disapproving grunt at your lack of response. he moved one of his hand from your hips to your hair, tugging it to draw a small yelp out of you. “answer me, bitch. does this dick feel too good?” he borderline growled as his grip on your hair became tighter.

your head begins nodding against the pillows with loud moans interrupting your response. “yes! fuck- oh my god, toji!” his strong grip on your hair only made you more desperate for him. he gave a cocky grin at your answer. using his grip on your hair, he pulled you up to where your back was against his chest. his hips didn’t falter once during that movement.

“you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good. who owns you? who’s the only man who can fuck you this good? use that pretty little head to answer me.” his tone was derogatory. he spoke to you as if you were less than him. yet it turned you on even more.

you let out a loud whine before answering him. “you! ‘s you, toji… only you can fuck me this good.” you panted out, a moan being ripped from your throat. toji clicked his tongue approvingly. “that’s right, good girl. i knew you could answer me.” 

the way he was degrading you then switching to praising you like it was nothing was giving you extreme whiplash. you felt your high approaching, squeezing around toji. toji knew when you were about to cum. out of nowhere, his arm wrapped around your neck. he’d trapped you in a headlock.

“you gonna cum? you little slut, go ahead and cream my cock. i know you want to.” he had a sickening grin on his face. you let out choked gasps as you came around him, your whines and whimpers being distorted by the force around your neck. he groaned out loud as he came too, painting your walls white. even after he came, toji didn’t stop his thrusts. he wanted to make sure you both were overstimulated for this next part.

when he heard your little choked begs for him to stop, that it was starting to hurt, he knew it was time. he looked at your face. you were already looking lightheaded and on the verge of passing out on him. he suddenly stopped his sloppy thrusts and buried himself deep inside of you.

your eyebrows furrowed in question as to why he stopped. at least, until you finally felt it. toji looked at you with a maniacal grin. he was pissing in you. his lock on your head started to loosen just a little bit with each passing moment that he pissed inside of you. he eventually let go of your neck to fully indulge in the sensation.

toji groaned in pleasure at the feeling of letting go in your pussy. “fuck, you’re so fucking soft and warm. just made to take me. my dick, my cum, my piss. your pussy fucking loves me, doesn’t she?” his stream of piss was strong, hitting against your womb. you couldn’t help clenching on his cock as you felt fuller and fuller. 

he hissed at your grip on him, somehow pissing into you even harder. his piss began to dribble out of your hole and onto your sheets. you knew that’d be a pain in the ass to clean later that night. with each passing moment that toji pissed in you, you felt your high building up once again. you didn’t think him pissing in you would feel like heaven.

you crept your hand down to your clit and rubbed messy circles on it. you knew if you were fast enough that you’d cum just from him pissing inside of you. toji took notice of this and used one of his hands to take your hand away. his other hand came down to slap your pussy. you yelped and clenched on him, more piss flowing out of your full hole.

“did i tell you you could cum again? just finish takin’ my piss…” he’d groan out. by this point, his head was thrown back. everything just felt too good. his steady stream slowed into a dribble which ended in a few drops more. as soon as he was done, he pulled out of you. he watched in awe as his cum and piss gushed out of your clenching pussy only to drench your sheets.

he had a smirk on his face as he watched it all happen. he pressed a kiss against your neck. “thank you, baby… you did so fuckin’ good f’r me.” he praised you, his hands caressing your hips. you only turned and gave him a small glare.

“you’re cleaning all this shit up, do you understand?”

toji enthusiasts send asks or requests the brainrot is going crazy rn.

[gravity-barbie]

There's only one bed HCs

Featuring: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Viktor, Lila, Sparrow!Ben & Sloane

A/N: This isn’t a request, I just had to post the fluffiest prompt I could after s4. Also, the umbrella’s characterisation in this is very s1 inspired.

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is immediately very flustered, you’d think he just stumbled out of the middle ages with how concerned about propriety he is in this situation, and he can barely form a coherent sentence

-He offers to take the floor, but if you do the same and/or insist on sharing he’ll quickly compromise on the latter if for no other reason than not wanting to disagree with you, but that decision has his heart racing a mile a minute

-He feels very self-conscious about taking up most of the bed, so any reassurance from you that you’re comfortable, or better yet, like his closeness absolutely melts him

-He stays half awake all night, too afraid of doing something embarrassing in his sleep to get any proper rest, but his contentment to just enjoy your nearness still makes it one of the best nights of his life

-Since he was already awake (and he’s a total sweetheart) he gets up early to scavenge you two up a breakfast in the morning, enjoying this slice of domesticity with you a little longer

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego says he’ll take the floor, but if you even slightly question that choice he gets embarrassed and defensive, suggesting you two share the bed just to prove that he ‘doesn’t care’

-Obviously he does care, outwardly he keeps his cool, but on the inside he’s swarming with butterflies like he’s a teenager

-As much as he tries to appear aloof, he’s actually being so considerate, checking if you’re comfortable more than once and making sure he isn’t touching you at all

-He’s not the easiest sleeper, tense and alert, and at first lying next to his crush doesn’t exactly help, but as the two of you talk and banter a little, the tension starts to defuse and he actually finds your presence very soothing

-He’s the type to get cuddly in his sleep, much to his shame and annoyance in the morning, he doesn’t let himself enjoy the amazing feeling of holding you in his arms for even a full minute before he’s scrambling back to his side of the bed and pretending to be asleep

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison can be a grown up about this, there’s only one bed, why wouldn’t you share it? She’s not indifferent but she doesn’t overanalyse the situation either

-She gladly embraces the domesticity of the scenario though, drawing out her nightly routine, and getting chattier than usual, trying to savor this experience that she’s wanted for so long

-She’s also trying to make sure you feel at ease too, figuring if you do feel awkward, that’ll fade as the two of you talk and unwind

-She is prone to nightmares, so don’t be surprised if you’re startled awake in the middle of the night and put in the unenviable position of trying to ease her, but she for one is very glad that it’s you she wakes up to

-Speaking of waking up, sunrise is the peak of this experience for her, feeling yours and her tangled limbs, seeing how peaceful you look while you sleep, it's the kind of moment she understands the importance of cherishing

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus suggests sharing, he’s slept under way more awkward circumstances next to people he’s felt way more uncomfortable around, it’s really no big deal

-He has to remind himself to keep his thoughts PG a couple of times and can’t get through the night without making at least one innuendo but overall he is respectful and won't likely make you uncomfortable

-Though he can keep his thoughts clean it's harder to keep them platonic, the longing he feels being so close to you is nearly overwhelming and he wishes so badly that the context was different

-With you by his side he sleeps more peacefully than he has in… ever, it actually kind of amazes him

-He's in no rush to leave your side in the morning, the sleep clouding his brain making him all too willing to forget his reservations and cuddle up to you for as long as you'll have him

Viktor Hargreeves

-Ever the gentleman, Viktor immediately offers to take the floor, but he feels quite heart-warmed by you insisting on sharing

-Even platonically the intimacy of sharing a bed means so much to someone as affectionate starved as him, but with the added context of you being his crush this experience feels like a mini miracle

-He's pretty nervous though, triple checking that you're okay with this and minimizing his own space as much as possible when he gets into bed

-He relaxes with some reassurance and the two of you quickly get comfortable, starting up a random conversation that's meant to segway into sleep but could keep you talking all night if you're not careful

-As opposed to the anxious start to the night, waking up next to each other feels like the most natural thing in the world

Lila Pitts

-Lila's thrilled, she doesn’t immediately suggest sharing but she makes it clear she’s not sleeping on the floor and is all too happy to accommodate you if you won't either

-If you do try to give her the bed and take the floor though she stops playing coy and basically tells you to grow up and share with her, insisting it’s no big deal

-But to her it is a big deal, honestly she can't believe she didn't plan this herself it's that perfect, she can barely fight back an unending smile

-Though keeping things sfw she does lay the flirting on thicker than usual and pays close attention to how you react to that and the situation you're in throughout the night

-As bold as she is she isn't actually used to this kind of closeness and the intimacy of sleeping next to her crush does start making her slightly nervous, but luckily your presence has a way of making her feel better

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben’s not exactly a go with the flow type, if you’re put in a position where there’s meant to be two beds and there’s only one, he’s gonna try to get his other bed

-Ands it’s only after all his demands fall on deaf ears that he even registers the implications of sharing the one, nervousness quickly sets in but he tries not to show it, avoiding looking at you and giving his usual sass

-He does offer you the bed, sounding more begrudging than he actually is, it’s actually his preferred solution, cause as spoiled as he acts he could never sleep comfortably at your expense

-But of course you insist on sharing and as soon as he’s laying next to you, he confirms what a bad idea this was, he’s just as flustered as he feared he would be, maybe more so

-He pretends to fall asleep as soon as possible so you won’t catch on to how he’s feeling, but actually he’s awake and on edge for hours

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane has encountered this scenario in more than one romance novel before, so her brain just goes wild with the possibilities

-You’re the one to suggest sharing the bed, and it absolutely melts her heart, it's sweet and it's a relief to know you're comfortable being this close to her

-She always has a hard time hiding her crush on you, but she’s never been so flustered before, the butterflies in her stomach verge on painful

-But she's also giddy and her contagious enthusiasm guarantees the two of you will have a good night, your energy is half 'slumber party' and half 'married couple's nightly routine'

-The experience is wonderful for not just Sloane but you as well, because even if you didn't have a crush on her before, spending a night with her surely makes you realize you want to spend many more with her

[b14augrana]

Kiss of Strife

Football has always been your safe haven, but your home life gradually starts to manifest in different ways away from home, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your captain

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of family issues associated with emotional unavailability and forms of abuse. read at your own discretion

A/N: an alexia x teen!reader angst fic was requested so here it is!! i decided this will be multiple parts as well so i hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this little series

(i wrote this pretty late at night and it isnt proofread so please excuse any mistakes regarding the tense, grammar etcetc)

Everything is perfect.

You’re scoring goals for your club and bagging assists. Your name is no longer a strange string of consonants and vowels but a recognisable word within the community of Cataluña, and it is only because of an ambition you dedicated the rest of your life to pursuing.

That’s just in the face of football though.

At home, there is a drought. The four walls of a family house are meant to behave like a dam which stores love and affection in the place of water, but your house is devoid of that.

Your house fosters a bitterness that doesn’t go hand in hand with anything along the lines of love and affection. The drawings on the fridge, created by a 5-year-old you, have faded over time, the ink being nothing more than splotches in some areas — a testament to the lack of care and attention your efforts received.

Relationships are barely surviving on simple greetings and empty ‘I love yous’. You crave something that is dangerous to want, but in your heart burns a desire to get the hell out.

Your lullaby is the faint yelling from the living room as you shut your eyes and focus on the gradually increasing volume of both voices, contradicting each other and trying to stab each other with no blade.

Your little sister crawls into your bed, her body flush against yours, another little arm wrapped around hers. Beneath your covers, there is warmth. Beneath your grip, there is safety.

During the school holidays, a child is supposed to savour every waking moment they spend at home and appreciate every day of it. You find yourself asking God why that isn’t the case, as you walk to practise with your sister’s hand in yours.

She sits on the sidelines picking grass as you train with your teammates, dreading the inevitable passing of minutes as you practise skill after skill. When you retreat to the bench for a quick water break, she runs up to you, bunches of chamomiles clutched in her hands that she begs to insert between the weaving of your braid.

From the day of your first training with the team, Alexia was drawn to you. She blamed it on her captain instincts, seeing as you’re the youngest on the team and therefore has the most potential, but now it’s gone beyond her captaincy. She’s known you for months, almost a full year now. She isn’t just your captain anymore.

She isn’t aware of the reality of your home life beyond the telltale signs such as the slightly sunken skin below your eyes or the bruises that taint your skin and are allegedly caused by your ‘clumsiness’. She knows there is something more to the extra effort you constantly put into training and games — she doesn’t know yet that it’s the pent up anger, sadness and fear manifesting in more productive forms.

You pour your heart and soul into the movement of the ball, in hopes that you can pursue your dreams of running away from what is restricting you from pursuing even greater dreams, an actual dream.

School starts back up for your sister. Things have been looking up for you, a huge burden off your shoulders. The house hasn’t shaken with another argument for a while and for once you get to know what silence is while you sleep, really sleep.

With every passing day, you find your memories with your father to resemble a garden; you can’t have a garden without flowers, just like how you can’t have memories of him without doing anything with him. When you were young, your garden was comparable to a rainforest, a new species in every corner, a kaleidoscope of beauty..

Until there was no more new species to plant and nurture, and the ones that already existed were getting neglected because all that you receive when you look at them are sour memories of what once was — the gardener you used to be, how rich the soil was, how steadily the flowers grew and how proud you were of your garden.

Your garden is dead now. It has gotten to the point where he doesn’t care about planting new flowers or watering the plants that already exist, leaving them to die of thirst. He’s absent and his emotional unavailability killed your flowers.

The little girl in you that wanted nothing else but love from her parents, loved that garden with her whole heart. She would’ve done anything she could to plant one more flower, she would’ve used the last drop of water in a drought to water her plants.

Alexia noticed something different about you today. The way you bounced around rather than the usual trudge… you had actual, sleep-induced energy.

Your sister also isn't with you. Alexia later asks you about it while you two are getting water and she learns that your sister is at school, and there is a smile on your face that she didn’t even realise had been absent for days until she saw it again.

Alexia has always been nice to you. The others treat you like a teammate, but she treats you like a friend. It feels like a special privilege, knowing ‘La Reina’ personally. She’s obviously a pillar in women’s football but to you, she’s much more.

She harbours a soft spot for you in her heart that becomes evident when she asks you if you need a ride home, and who are you to turn down such an offer when the ache in your legs is close to becoming unbearable?

“You’re talented, chica,” the woman says as you slink into the passenger seat of her car. “I haven’t had the chance to say it, but there hasn’t been a player like you for quite a bit.”

Her praise is so much more than just a couple of words from your captain. Though you smile and say a shy thank you, your heart races because you’ve just been called talented by one of the best players in the world, and there is no feeling greater than that. It gives you a tiny sliver of hope for a brighter future than what you’re already living, and for a moment, escaping your four walls seems possible.

The joy you experienced during the whole car ride is short lived once her car pulls into your driveway. Perhaps she can see the way your expression drops and your demeanour falls, because her hand finds your shoulder and squeezes it in a way that comforts you. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” she asks, and though you really wish she could, you shake your head for the better.

There’s a slight frown on her face before she nods and drops her hand. You think about the possibility of her knowing that there’s something going on behind the closed doors of your home, and a big part of you hopes so, but no words besides a ‘gracías’ and ‘adios’ manage to find their way out of your mouth despite the pleas for help and support bubbling in your throat as you shut the door of her car.

When you reach the patio, the door opens to bombard you with the raucous of an argument happening around the corner of the hallway.

Your limbs are barely functioning and your eyes are struggling to stay open which is an obvious sign of the exhaustion soaring through your body, hence why you skip right past seeing your parents and beeline towards your sister’s room.

For as long as you can remember, arguments have been a consistent part of evenings spent in your household. Sometimes violence finds itself becoming the last resort, leaving you stuck to bear the brunt of a heavy hand. It’s what happens when two sides of the same coin try to work out — two negatives can’t make a positive, it’s impossible for them to get along and there is never a last word. That’s the unfortunate reality of your parents’ relationship.

You sink into the soft mattress of your sister’s bed and beckon her from the desk to lay beside you. She flips her paper over and abandons the seat to run over to you, her little body falling into your embrace. When she asks you what they’re talking about this time, you tell your sister that they’re just having a little disagreement, and if she sleeps it off, it’ll go away. It’s a promise, you say, before you proceed to tell her all about your training and your teammates. It’s her favourite thing, and she says it’s better than a bedtime story.

In no time, little exhales slip past her mouth as her eyes flutter shut, and you roll her off your body, tucking her into the butterfly printed duvet. With tentative steps across the hardwood, you find yourself at her desk and your fingers ghost over the piece of paper as you squint to read it in the dimness of her nightlight.

‘Mi papá hermana guapa

My sister is strong. She plays fútbol and she is good at it. My sister takes care of me and takes me to her pracktise, I like going with my sister. She helps me sleep and when I am with my sister, I am not scared. I am proud of m–…’

And the rest trails off. The body remains incomplete, but there’s one last sentence at the bottom of the page.

‘Amo a mi hermana.’

You place it back on her desk as you fail to combat the tears flooding your waterline. ‘She must’ve been instructed to write a poem by her teacher… for Father’s Day’, you think to yourself. Turning away so you don’t ruin her writing with your tears, you wiped them with the back of your Barça jacket sleeve and flipped the page around before making a dead silent exit. The house was completely still beside the low noise of talking from the TV and light snoring.

Your tears are not because of happiness. No, they stream down your face because it’s then that you realise something, and it opens up a whole new portal of questions.

As the streak of silence is broken and you’re forced to fall asleep to the low humming noise from the living room and a restless mind, you wonder what twisted realm of anger and bitterness your father lives in that forbids him from showing the smallest signs of love to his kids.

But, you already know the answer to that question, deep down. Instead, you wonder if you’ll see Alexia tomorrow, stretching in her usual spot, and you wonder if she’ll look up and smile at you again and invite you over.

You hope that’s what will happen. You pray for it.

[sinswithpleasure]

Bucket List Interlude — Five.Six [Queen & Princess]

—-----------—

Proud to release my second (technically first, but our actual second released first) collab with @co-reborn set in the Bucket List universe.

Enjoy this (mostly unedited) little gift before NNN.

—-----------—

[Im Squirtle has sent a message:]

Oi, Pervert.

Let's try something new later on.

I know you’ll like it too

Head to the audi after your class ends

Come over quick :)

—-------

You keep your books in the locker once you’re done for the day. With these types of Nayeon texts, you know you're definitely not studying for the next few hours. 

You shuffle past the crowd of students heading to their next class as you make your way to the auditorium. There shouldn’t be anyone using it at this hour, so why would she ask you…?

With the door to the auditorium right in front of you, you reach for the handle. The door swings open smoothly, and as expected, it is empty, lights off. You step in and place your bag onto one of the chairs, before grabbing your phone from your pocket. 

[To: Im Squirtle]

I'm here, where ar |

In the middle of typing your message, the lights switch on. First, the room is dimly lit, but it begins to brighten slowly. You look around, and that's when you spot Nayeon at the bottom, on the stage. You scan her outfit—open blouse paired with a bright pink crop top, hearts and lines and other designs printed on the cloth,  coupled with jeans, deliberately left open and rolled around her waist. Cute pigtails, by far your favourite style on her, steel rimmed glasses perched atop her nose, and a loose tie hanging around her neck.

She looks like a star. Maybe in another world…

"Yah, Pervert!" Nayeon waves enthusiastically, the brightest grin across her ethereal features. Even at the bottom of the auditorium, you're blown away by her beauty. Not that it's a surprise any more, but her beauty is definitely one of a kind. 

"Say hi to our junior!"

Behind her, another girl steps out. You wonder how you haven't noticed her hiding behind Nayeon.

"Eh, Shin Yuna?"

Shin Yuna—the next Queen of Seoul U, currently nicknamed "Princess". You've seen her around a lot—it's quite hard not to notice the other beauty of Seoul U. Nayeon is easily #1, but Yuna's a damned close second, and she'll ascend the ranking once Nayeon graduates, you're sure of it. 

"Hi, Oppa."

"Come down! Come say hi!"

You oblige, and take quick steps down. At the bottom, you awkwardly nod towards the younger girl, causing Nayeon to giggle. She steps closer to her "successor" and lightly grabs her shoulders. 

Peeking from the side, she asks, “What do you think of her?”

You gulp. You can’t deny Yuna’s beauty. “Yeah… she’s pretty.”

Nayeon then steps behind Yuna before running her hands over her chest. The younger girl visibly tenses up, even more so when Nayeon begins to pop open the buttons on her blouse. 

“I, for one, think she’s beautiful.” 

The white top is pulled open, Yuna's bare breasts now exposed for your viewing pleasure. Nayeon lightly kneads the soft flesh of Yuna’s breasts, eliciting light gasps from her. Her hands continue to move down Yuna’s body down to her hips, halting at her tight abs to run circles atop the defined muscles. 

"She's got such a perfect body, doesn't she?"

Nayeon gives Yuna a soft kiss on the cheek, before she licks a long stripe from the younger's shoulder up to her left ear. Reaching her skirt, Nayeon undoes the clasp and zipper at the back, a small push all it needs for the cloth to fall down her long legs, leaving the girl in white panties. You stare at the big damp spot right at the crotch of her underwear, and you gulp as your cock twitches beneath your pants.

"Go on, tell Oppa what we're doing today."

Nayeon's hands roam Yuna's body again. Her fingers ghost over the younger's smooth milky skin again, paying special attention to her nipples. 

"Ngh…"

"Come on, Yuna-ya~"

Nayeon's fingers softly knead the soft flesh of Yuna's nubile body, her fingers expertly drawing the primal lust out of Yuna. You can't help but watch as Nayeon literally plays with the new toy in her hands, Yuna having all but submitted willingly to her senior. 

"Oppa…"

Yuna's call dripped pure sex. You couldn't help the rush of primal lust at her moan, and as Nayeon slides her fingers underneath the waistband of Yuna's panties, you wish you were the one in Nayeon's place instead.

"Mmh, Daddy, she's so wet, oh my God."

Yuna's loud moan paired with the buck of her hips is all you need to know that Nayeon has penetrated her with her long fingers.

"Yuna-ya, go on, tell Oppa what you're here for."

"Oppa… mmgh—I…"

"I…?" Nayeon prompts.

"I'm—ohGod—I'm here to, fuck, I'm here to…"

Yuna shudders, her words temporarily halted by the waves of pleasure that wrecks her body with Nayeon's fingers deep in her. 

"Oppa, I'm here to have sex, Oppa, I'm here to have sex with you and Nayeon-unnie, please… please take care of me, please…"

"That's right Daddy, Yuna's here to join us today."

Nayeon withdraws her fingers from Yuna, who moans at the loss of contact. Her fingers are drenched—not one inch of her middle and ring fingers, as well as the surrounding skin, is dry. Strands of slick cling to Nayeon's skin as she plays around with it, and she giggles. 

"Ehe, Yuna-ya, you're so wet…"

She holds her fingers in front of the younger bunny's lips. Yuna takes it in without any hesitation, tasting her own pussy off her unnie's fingers.

"Good girl." Nayeon strokes the younger girl's hair. She melts under her unnie's touch and praise, and the smile across her face widens when Nayeon kisses her cheek.

"Sit back and relax Daddy, I'm going to show you how our good girl cums under my touch."

Nayeon smirks at you when you curse under your breath. You're so fucking hard—a tent has formed under the zipper of your jeans, and you've had to undo your pants so you could be more comfortable. Yuna's eyes are locked on to your bulge, and she stares with dripping lust.

"Daddy, Yuna wants to see that cock. Show her what you'll be fucking her with?"

Phrased like that, there's no way you'd say no. You undo the button and zipper, then reach beneath the waistband of your briefs to fish out your hard shaft, exposing yourself to the younger bunny. Yuna's gasp is all it takes to stoke your ego—you look up to see Yuna's eyes fixated on your hard cock, but what seals the ego boost is Nayeon's hand back to rubbing Yuna's clit, and you watch in slow-motion as Yuna's pussy drips, wetting the floor with her lust. 

"Isn't it big, Yuna? That's the cock that fucks my pussy. Daddy always fills me up so well…"

"Hngh—!"

Yuna chokes back a moan as Nayeon penetrates her again. This time, her knees buckle when Nayeon's skilled fingers glide between her drenched walls, and you watch as Nayeon curls her fingers within Yuna as she thrusts in and out of the younger girl's pussy. 

"Doesn't it feel good, Yuna? You're doing so well for me, so well for us. Look at your Oppa, look at how hard he's jerking his cock for you."

You're unable to resist the urge—the sight of Nayeon masturbating Yuna might be one of the hottest sights of your entire sex life so far in college. Yuna can't tear her eyes off your cock, and similarly, you can't tear your eyes off Nayeon's fingers plunging deeply into Yuna's cunt as well, her other hand firmly kneading the younger girl's right breast, fingers tweaking her nipple. The wet sounds of Nayeon fingerfucking Yuna echoes around the empty auditorium, and so do her moans. Yuna's lustful, sultry moans go straight down to your cock, and you take a bit of time to spread the beads of precum at your tip all over your cock.

"Oh, Yuna-ya, come on, moan louder. Let Oppa hear how much you want him.”

Yuna moans softly, her words muffled. Nayeon tuts disapprovingly.

“No, no, louder. Oppa wants to hear you. Let everyone hear you.”

"—ppa, Oppa, Oppa, Oppa~!"

Yuna’s broken moans go straight to your cock, and you have to pinch the head to resist the urge to cum. Her high-pitched whines for you have you nearly blowing your load, and you’re not about to cum before she does—you want to watch her come undone right in front of your very eyes. The wet sounds of Nayeon’s fingers thrusting deep into Yuna’s cunt get louder, and stray droplets of Yuna’s slick fly off Nayeon’s knuckles. The younger girl in question is breathless, her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure wracks her body. Nayeon’s hot breath brushes against her ear, whispering pure filth to push her closer and closer.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well Yuna, Oppa’s so happy watching you. Look, look at how hard he’s jerking, look at how hard and wet his cock is…”

“Oppa~!”

“Imagine how good you’d feel with Oppa’s cock fucking this tight cunt of yours.”

“Yes, yes, YES!”

“Mm, go on, think about how big the stretch is, think about how good it’d feel when he empties his balls deep in your cunt.”

“Oh my God, Unnie, Nayeon-unnie, I’m—I’m gonna cum, I’m—!”

Everything seems to move in slow motion—Yuna’s loud cry of pleasure, her back arching, her body shuddering, her knees buckling. You gasp as a huge gush of squirt splashes all over the stage, and your eyes widen in shock as Yuna's gushes keeps on going. She doesn't orgasm in bursts like Nayeon does—with every buck of her hips, the stream only seems to get stronger as she cums in one continuous gush. Yuna thoroughly showers the stage with her cum, almost as if she is urinating. It overflows down over the fake plant boxes below, and that's when the stream tapers off, and Yuna collapses backwards against her Nayeon-unnie, sweaty, exhausted, but blissed out.

"You came so much, baby… such a good girl~."

Nayeon raises her fingers to her eyes, and she admires the glossy sheen of Yuna's slick and squirt covering her fingers and her palm. Her eyes glint in satisfaction, and she licks the stray droplets of cum that run down her arm, all while she stares deep into your eyes. Her next action is to wave her fingers in front of Yuna's lips. 

"Have a taste, baby."

Yuna obliges, her lips wrapping around Nayeon's digits. 

"Good girl."

The praise draws something out of Yuna, something more submissive, more eager. You watch as her eyes soften, and she becomes more pliant, more obedient. She sucks on her Nayeon-unnie's fingers, her hand holding her unnie's at the wrist to steady it as she licks it clean of her cum, all while Nayeon praises her with every swipe of her tongue. Yuna seems to beam under the praise, and you watch breathlessly as you take note of this new information. 

"Did I do good, Nayeon-unnie?"

"I think you did a very good job, baby. How about you, Oppa?"

You rise to your feet and smirk. 

"I think you've been a very good girl, Yuna."

The younger girl beams tiredly, the blush evident across her face. She squeezes her legs together unknowingly, a fact that doesn't escape Nayeon's and your notice. 

"Do you want a break, baby?"

"Yes, please, unnie."

"Mm…

“Take your break, Yuna. Sit right here so you can get a good view of how Daddy fucks me.”

Your cock is desperately aching for action at this point, and you hastily respond to Nayeon’s words. You take off your pants before hopping onto stage and moving towards her. She kisses you harshly and pulls you closer into her. Both your hands work instinctively on undressing each other. You push the blouse off her shoulders while she works on the button on her jeans. You break the kiss momentarily to remove your shirt and her crop top, before immediately diving back into her mouth. You feel up each other’s body, your hands choosing to fondle her tits while she focuses on your abs. Heat builds up between both of you, and the kiss intensifies until she cannot take it anymore. 

When Nayeon pulls away from you, you begin to plant a trail of kisses down her neck, shoulders and chest until you reach her waist. With the button undone already, you simply pull it down her legs. Nayeon is just left standing on stage in her ruined panties. A touch on her inner thighs is enough to make her shiver. You then pull down her panties and expose her dripping pussy for you and Yuna to see. The confident Nayeon from moments ago fades away, replaced by a quivering mess in need of you. You move behind her and push her closer towards the younger girl, fingers rubbing across her nether lips a few times before they dive into her pussy. She leans on your chest as her legs lose their strength. Her walls tighten around you and you feel more of her juices staining your fingers. You withdraw your fingers and hold them in front of Nayeon, and she licks it up without hesitation. Yuna looks in awe as the Nayeon she’s familiar with is stripped away, replaced with a Nayeon utterly overwhelmed with lust. 

When she’s done cleaning your fingers, she looks over her shoulder to face you, whispering, “Fuck me hard, Daddy. Let’s give our good girl a show.”

You oblige, hurriedly bringing your shaft by her entrance. Slick immediately stains your tip as you make first contact with her pussy, and Nayeon’s body reacts to you immediately. She sinks herself backwards on your shaft and takes in the first few inches of your cock. With her snug flesh already clenching around you, you can’t help but to thrust your hips to insert the rest of your length into her.

The instant you’re hilt deep, three moans ring across the auditorium—yours, Nayeon’s and Yuna’s. Having watched the two girls indulge in sin earlier, it’s about time for you to have your own fun. Familiar with Nayeon’s body, you begin to pound and use her without hesitance. She’s quickly reduced to a mumbling and cursing mess, unable to form coherent words other than “Fuck!” and “Daddy!”. 

You briefly look over Nayeon’s shoulder to see the younger girl’s reaction. Yuna’s eyes quiver, yet they remain laser-focused on your cock and Nayeon’s pussy. She’s biting down on her finger, saliva beginning to pool and seep out the corner of her mouth. Her other hand gently works between her legs, seeking out the pleasure she was bestowed by her unnie earlier. 

You’re glad she’s enjoying the show, but what about the main actress?

Leaning over to her shoulder, you sigh, “You naughty slut. You want to be watched getting fucked so bad that you brought someone, mm?"

“Yes, Daddy, yes, I did—mmgh!”

Nayeon's admission amidst loud moans of pleasure has you fucking her harder.

"Fuck, yes, fuck, Daddy, you—hngh~!—feel so good inside me!"

While Nayeon takes your cock, you're more than aware of the younger girl paying her full attention to the erotic scene in front of her. An idea pops into your head, and you pause for a split second, to Nayeon’s disappointment, and wrap a hand underneath her thighs. Lifting it up, you give Yuna a clearer view of your cock spearing Nayeon’s pussy. 

“Unnie, y-you’re so wet.” Yuna's voice is raspy with lust, and you field a glance at the Princess. She has her bottom lip between her teeth, a hand dangerously close to the dripping slit between her legs. You know it's only a matter of time before she breaks.

“Your cute little protege has her eyes glued on you, on your body, on your perfect pussy taking my cock. You like that, hmm?”

A deep moan is all that comes out of her mouth. She’s incapable of thinking, unable to process your words, fully concentrated on you and your cock and how good you’re making her feel. The thought of being watched whilst getting fucked hard all the times you teasingly whispered the possibilities of someone stumbling upon the dirty side of her have always been a turn on. Now, she has made her fantasy become reality—her featured guest sits by the side, having had her own fun, Yuna watches her, stares at her getting pounded hard, and Nayeon gets off from it, more than ever. 

However, Nayeon isn’t the only one enjoying this precarious situation. You’re sure many would kill to be in your position—not only are you a part of Nayeon's closest circle, you're regularly fucking her as and when she wants it. You're even more aware of this now—Nayeon has introduced Yuna to the mix for today, and with her widely reputed to be Nayeon's "successor, she's not unpopular herself. Yet, here you are, with both of them naked, fucking one of them while the other watches. You love it when Nayeon is reduced into this crumbling mess, far from her prim and proper self. This side of her is yours to admire and enjoy, and enjoy it you definitely will. 

You have the perfect view—Nayeon’s body rocks back and forth as you relentlessly pound her, cheeks flushed while she drowns in ecstasy, and from the corner of your eyes, you catch Yuna with her legs spread wide open, fingers driving in and out of herself. You’re immensely turned on, your balls aching and about to explode at any moment, but not yet, your job’s still not done. 

Yuna has her eyes glued to your bodies the whole time, mouth gaped open in awe at how rough you’re being with Nayeon and how well she’s taking it. Heart beating in anticipation, she can’t help but to wonder how good it will be when it’s her turn to be fucked like that. Nayeon did promise her it’ll be mind blowing and she’s now getting a live preview. She subconsciously starts to thumb her clit as well for more pleasure, her gasps growing in volume. “Fuck unnie…”

You lean over and whisper into Nayeon’s ear. “Open your eyes, baby girl. Look at your precious junior.” She barely registers your words and struggles to do so with the immense rush of pleasure in her head. Through half lidded eyes, she sees what you see—Shin Yuna deeply engrossed in the show you’re putting out, her face red, fingers and thighs thoroughly stained with her slick. 

“Look at her. She’s so wet and it’s all thanks to you.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you. Such a pretty slut taking cock so nicely. Maybe you should have invited more people to join. Maybe you should've called the entire school to gather here to watch you take this fucking cock like the slut you are.”

The thought of the auditorium filled to the brim with the school population, thousands of eyes watching her true self has Nayeon moaning louder. Maybe that’s what she wants all along. Such wild thoughts continue to fill her head, more ideas of how to push her fantasy further. 

“Cum for me, Nayeon-ah. Let Yuna see how beautiful you can be when you cum.”

Nayeon doesn't last longer than your sentence. With a scream, her legs buckle under the pressure and you hold her up by her hips as you keep thrusting into her orgasming pussy. Bursts of squirt shoot out and make a mess of your bodies and the stage. You persist with your fucking and maintain your thrusts into the tight, sensitive pussy, eliciting moan after moan from Nayeon. The auditorium echoes with her cries—any passerby could easily hear them, check it out and catch the three of you in this illicit act, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.

A few more pumps into Nayeon later, you tumble out of control and your orgasm hits you. You cum inside her, mindlessly thrusting and burying your load deeper into her pussy until you’re properly drained. Shot after shot of thick cum fills Nayeon's tight pussy, and you pull her close and tight, softly cursing at the pleasure you enjoy right into her ear.

When everything subsides, you hear Nayeon's soft "Thank you, Daddy", and you give her a soft peck on the cheek before pulling out of her. Thick white drops of semen drip out of Nayeon's pussy onto the floor, and Yuna gasps at the sight. Both of you turn to look at the younger girl, and you're both so turned on at the sight that greets your eyes: the Princess of Seoul U is a mess. Yuna is pent-up—she clearly hadn't orgasmed, probably saving herself for the inevitable fucking she knew she'd get. Her eyes burn with lust, chest heaving with every deep breath she takes, nipples taut with arousal. The blush on her face hasn't left, and a puddle of her juices pools between her legs. When she pulls out her fingers from within her, slick drips from her digits onto the stage. 

"Oppa, Unnie… that was so hot…"

Both you and Nayeon admire the sight in front of you for a second more. You're still fully hard, already wanting to fuck Yuna for the first time. However, Nayeon has different plans. 

"Come here, Yuna-ya~"

The younger girl almost lunges for her senior, the desperate look in her eyes akin to that of a feral puppy compared to the bunny she commonly is likened to. She crashes her lips against her senior's, and you swear your cock gets harder watching both women make out with each other. Yuna can't resist kneading Nayeon's breasts, and Nayeon has a palmful of Yuna's plump ass, her fingers kneading the soft flesh. The lustful moans from both girls echo around the empty auditorium, and you can't help but stroke your slick cock in anticipation of what happens next. 

"Mm, Yuna, baby, you kiss so well."

The younger girl only blushes at the praise. She looks down at Nayeon's body shyly, a bright smile across her features.

"I have a little something for you to taste, baby girl~." Nayeon runs two fingers over her pussy, her voice shaking as the pleasure of her own touch creeps into her system. When she retrieves her digits, they're coated in a thick sheen of your semen, and with a push of Yuna's shoulders, the younger girl kneels almost immediately. She looks up, eyes wide in desire, lust, anticipation, and Nayeon gently lowers her cum-soaked fingers to Yuna's mouth. The younger bunny immediately takes them into her mouth, her tongue thoroughly cleaning her unnie's fingers of the mixture of her juices and yours. When the taste hits her, you watch as her eyes roll back and she moans, almost as if your cum was a delicacy. 

"If you want more of Oppa's cum, baby, come eat it out of unnie's pussy."

You're more than happy to put aside your desire to fuck Yuna—the sight of her eating your cum out of Nayeon's cunt is a worthy substitute. The blonde girl looks up at her unnie as her lips get closer and closer to Nayeon's cunt, and Nayeon smiles down at her junior, stroking her hair ever so gently. When Yuna's tongue first touches Nayeon's pussy, the older girl lets out a sultry moan, her hands gripping Yuna's head and pushing her crotch against the younger girl's face. The younger bunny sticks her tongue out and begins to lick along her unnie's slit, and she herself moans when your excess cum drips all over her tongue. It is at that moment where she wraps her lips around her unnie's pussy, and Nayeon throws her head back, enjoying the pleasure of her junior eating her out. Yuna fervently eats your cum out of Nayeon's cunt—when she pulls herself back to catch her breath, your semen and Nayeon's juices stain her lips and chin. 

"Oppa's cum tastes so nice, unnie." Yuna's tongue glides across her lips to collect the mixed fluids across her face, and you bite your bottom lip when she gives you a lustful stare, her eyes lingering especially on your hard cock. She even leans over to lick the precum off your tip, and you curse when she gives you a few strokes along the length with every swipe of her tongue.

"It does, doesn't it?" Nayeon strokes her junior's head, and when Yuna looks up at the both of you again, Nayeon gives her next instructions. "You'll get to taste it again later, baby. Oppa's been waiting so long for that pussy, your tight virgin pussy, and I don't think you should make him wait much longer~."

When Yuna rises from the floor, her eyes meet yours in a blazing gaze of lust. She bites down on her lip, her eyes travelling to your hard, twitching cock and back up, the desperation behind her eyes only further adding to your desire for her. You watch in burning anticipation as the lithe girl in front of you turns around. Your eyes follow her hourglass figure, from the soft curves of her neck to the sharp juts of her shoulders, down her thin waist. You drool at the sight of her hips swaying as she takes steps towards the podium, at the sight of her long legs, and best of all, at her supple ass as she bends over when she reaches her destination. Your eyes immediately lock onto her pussy, drenched and dripping, her thighs glistening with arousal, the floor beneath her wet as well. The killing blow Yuna delivers is through her next few actions—she turns back to you, her puppy eyes pleading with you to finally fuck her, and she spreads her pussy open with her right middle and ring fingers. Fresh slick drips and runs down her skin, along her hand. 

"Oppa, I'm ready for my fucking."

Yuna doesn't expect how quick you can be.

In two steps, you cover the distance between you and her. You grab your cock and aim it right for Yuna's spread hole, and the younger girl squeals in surprise when your pussy breaches the opening of her cunt. Before she can even speak, your hands grip her hips tight, and you send one hard thrust right into her cunt as you pull her right onto your cock, your pelvis slapping right against her ass. 

"OpPAAAA~!"

Yuna cries out when your thick cock stretches her virgin pussy out with your one stroke. You waste no moment—you're already pulling out until your tip is left in her before thrusting back in. As you begin to fuck the younger girl, you forcefully grab her by her face to watch her reaction, and you begin to pound her harder when you see her eyes roll back in pleasure, unintelligible moans echoing around the auditorium with each stroke. 

Yuna's pussy is tight, so damn tight, tighter than Nayeon's. Her walls quiver around your cock, the first she's ever taken, and they squeeze you so perfectly you swear you're in heaven. A rush of slick runs along your cock—did she just have a mini-orgasm or something, you wonder—and her body shakes as she attempts to take deep breaths. You knock the air out of her with every thrust you send into her, each stroke ending with you hilted deep in her, just like how you'd fucked Nayeon earlier. Yuna takes it all—she wants it, needs it just as much as you do.

"Oppa, Oppa, Oppa!!!!" Yuna can't stop repeating the word like a mantra—she can't seem to remember anything else. 

Next to both you and Yuna, Nayeon has her fingers in her pussy again, fucking herself at the sight of you railing Yuna. Your semen drips from her fingers as she plunges then into her cunt over and over, her free hand kneading her own breasts for pleasure. She moans just as unrestrainedly as Yuna does, and Nayeon swears you almost seem to rail Yuna harder knowing she's watching. As your cock appears and disappears into Yuna's tight body, Nayeon fixes her eyes on how Yuna looks—like a proper slut. Her junior's eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, tongue sticking out of her mouth. The ahegao fixed upon Yuna's face draws Nayeon towards her, and the older girl steps up to pull her close. You shift Yuna back to create space for Nayeon, and you watch as the older girl pulls Yuna into a torrid kiss. The hot sounds of both women kissing mixed with their moans leads you to groan as well, and you fuck Yuna harder to satiate your lust. Nayeon holds Yuna's head close to her chest with one hand, and you watch as the older girl reaches between her legs to masturbate again. 

"Unnie, uhn—!" Yuna's eyes are glazed over from pleasure, her speech broken up by moans and loud claps of your flesh against hers. The girl can't seem to hold steady—she almost falls over a few times as her hips buck on every brush of your cock against her G-spot. "Oppa fucks me so well, Oppa's fucking my pussy so good!"

"That's right, he is, because you're such a good girl. Good, pretty girls like you deserve poundings like that." Nayeon bites her lip at the pleasure she brings herself. "In fact, a good girl like you should suck on Unnie's tits."

Almost instantly, Yuna has her lips on one of Nayeon's breasts. She is completely pliant to any instruction—the praise is all she craves. Nayeon moans out loud as her junior helps to pleasure her, and you hear another set of wet thrusts join with the sounds of your sex with Yuna as Nayeon resumes fucking herself. 

"That's right, Yuna, keep sucking Unnie's tits like that, fuck, fuck!"

You can't believe how blessed you are. Just like that, you're balls deep in the Princess of Seoul U and thoroughly pounding her freshly deflowered cunt, fucking it hard and using it like you've used Nayeon's so many times before. Both girls are similarly wet and messy—your shaft glides against Yuna's walls just like how it would in Nayeon's, and Nayeon's thighs always glisten with slick during sex, just like Yuna's are right now as well. The entire situation right now is obscenely hot—many dream to fuck both Nayeon and Yuna, and here you are living it, with both women desiring your cock so much they're having sex with you together. Yuna's been fucked almost entirely silly, and Nayeon's enjoying it as she fucks herself with Yuna's help. 

Nayeon is the first to crack—Yuna's tongue, teeth, and hands are her undoing. The younger girl pinches and tugs at the older girl's nipples, occasionally playing with them between her fingers while her tongue flicks the sensitive nubs, and Nayeon's moans only get louder, whinier, her fingers plunging and thrusting harder, deeper—

"Daddy, I'm going to cum!"

Nayeon barely makes it to the end of her sentence before squirt explodes out of her. You watch in pure lust as the older bunny throws her head back, her guttural moans, the hiss of her squirt gushing from her cunt, and the loud splatters of her cum forming puddles on the floor echoing around the empty auditorium. Jet after jet of girl cum drenches the floor, and you feel Yuna tighten around you when she watches Nayeon orgasm. The younger girl begins to whine seeing her senior's body buck and writhe as she orgasms, her legs unstable, breasts jiggling with every shift of her body. 

"Oppa, Unnie, Yuna's gonna—"

Yuna's sentence ends in a scream as her hips buck, and squirt sprays out of her freshly-fucked pussy. Your cock is forcefully ejected from her cunt, and you have to hold the younger girl up as her legs buckle, the pleasure of her orgasm washing over her entire body. Both Nayeon's and Yuna's cum mix on the floor beneath them, the huge puddle of squirt evidence of how much pleasure they drew from this session.  You enjoy the sight of both girls orgasming together in each other's embrace, but that doesn't last for long—you have yet to get your release yourself, and Yuna's pussy was the only hole you hadn't filled with your cum. With one hard thrust after lining yourself up, you draw another scream from Yuna as you plunge your hard shaft into her still-orgasming pussy, and you pound her right through it, chasing your own high and prolonging hers. 

"Yuna, baby, I'm going to fill you."

"Yes, Oppa, yes~!"

When you begin to thrust hard into Yuna, Nayeon pulls her into a sloppy kiss. Both girls' bodies rock with your thrusts as they engage in a hot, sloppy makeout—tongues swirl, moans escape their kiss, and hands roam across bodies to further pleasure each other. Even as Nayeon's orgasm subsides, Yuna doesn't relent in rubbing her Unnie's clit and playing with her breasts, drawing more pleasure from her body.  You feast on the sight in front of you, enjoying the show that your two partners are putting up for you, and you work towards your own sweet release with every thrust. The friction that Yuna's tight, heavenly walls provide pushes you closer and closer, until… 

"Fuck, Yuna, fuck!"

Your cock twitches and pulsates before the first burst of semen is fired deep into Yuna's cunt. Yuna moans at the feeling of you firing shot after shot of semen into her at the tail end of her orgasm, and you squeeze your eyes shut as white-hot pleasure washes over you with each rush of cum that you leave in the younger girl. You never stop thrusting throughout your orgasm, every upstroke fucking your cum deeper and deeper into her.  

When you pull out of Yuna, a thick stream of cum leaks from her pussy, down her thighs. Some of it drips to the floor, mixing with the puddle of cum beneath you and her, and you stagger back, your cock softening after the intense sex session you've just had. However, the glint in Nayeon's eye tells you that it isn't over—you're not done for the day yet.

"Yuna, baby, now that we both have your Oppa's cum in our pussies…" Nayeon begins, pulling Yuna against her, their sweaty bodies flushed together. "...we should thank Oppa, mm?"

You're just as confused as Yuna is, but you're also willing to play along. Nayeon leads Yuna to a dry spot on stage, and she directs you to step back. Nayeon leans to whisper a few words into Yuna's ear, and you know you're in for a world of trouble when Yuna's face turns red, and she bites her lip in arousal, her eyes locked onto you, lust burning once more.  When both girls begin to lower themselves to the floor, Nayeon leaves you with her new instructions.

"Enjoy the show, Daddy~"

When each girl crosses a leg over the other's, and both of them shift closer to each other, it clicks. Your cock begins to stir once more as you watch Nayeon and Yuna meet each other in the middle, moaning out loud as they grind their pussies together. 

"Oppa, look at us, Oppa!"

Yuna's desperate call for your attention has your cock twitching as it hardens to its full length. The younger girl has a wanton look of lust all over her features, and Nayeon's expressions mirror Yuna's as well. You watch as both women's pussies get messier—they "share" your creampies in them through sex, their skin coated in a mixture of their slick and your semen. Yuna is the more eager one—she actively grinds down on Nayeon's pussy as if this would be the last time she'd be having sex, and Nayeon reciprocates with the same effort, pleasuring herself and her junior well as they put on a show for you. You can't resist stroking your cock anymore with the live sex show right in front of you. 

"Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good, I feel so good~!" Nayeon's loud moans for you have you jerking harder. "Look at us sharing your cum, look at us having sex!"

With how sensitive both women are—Nayeon having orgasmed a short while earlier, and Yuna only finishing recently, it doesn't take too long before they're both close, desperately grinding against each other as they chase their highs together. 

"Unnie, unnie, I'm going to cum soon, unnie!"

"Me too, Yuna-ya, let's cum for Daddy, let's cum for him to watch!"

You feast your eyes on how the Queen and Princess bring each other to orgasm—Yuna and Nayeon both grind down on each other hard, and Yuna is the first to scream before a huge gush of squirt sprays from her pussy, showering both herself and Nayeon in her cum. Nayeon takes a short while longer—she rubs her clit with her hands before her hips buck, and her own spray of squirt jets out to cover Yuna. Both girls drench each other's bodies with their cum, and you watch while pinching the tip of your shaft, unwilling to cum just yet. A short jet of white spurts from your cock as you watch, your semen dripping to the floor as you enjoy the deliciously wanton sight in front of you. You're almost delirious with pleasure, partially physical, partially from the almost unreal situation you're in. You enjoy the sight of both Nayeon and Yuna making messes of each other as well as the stage, their cum pooling into a massive puddle beneath them. 

When both girls finally come down from their highs, they move themselves towards you. 

"Oppa, it's time for you to cum too."

Nayeon wastes no time in taking your shaft into her mouth, her hand reaching to jerk you off. Yuna's lips and tongue reach for your balls, and you rest a hand on both of their heads as they please you together as a team. Both women share your cock as if it were a delicacy—when Nayeon would release you from her warm, slick mouth, Yuna would take over with a gentle suction and her tongue gliding under your cock, leaving you twitching. It doesn't take long for the familiar feeling to bubble back up. 

"Fuck, Nayeon, Yuna, I'm close."

Both girls immediately focus their efforts right at your tip. Their tongues glide up and down on your cock before they make out with each other at the head of your cock, pushing you closer and closer.

"Cum over our faces, Daddy. You've earned it for fucking us so well."

With a loud groan, a thick burst of cum erupts from your cock, and Yuna immediately aims your cock right at herself. You watch in ecstasy as your hot load paints Yuna's pretty features, a smile wide on her face as your hot white semen lands on her face and breasts. Immediately, Nayeon pulls your cock over to her, and it's her turn to receive bursts of your cum all over her pretty face and body. You swear you're cumming forever—burst after burst of semen showers over Nayeon and Yuna, and when you inevitably come down from your high, you're greeted with the hottest sight of the night—the Queen and Princess of Seoul U, covered in a mixture of semen and squirt, servicing you and cleaning your cock with their mouths after rounds of hot sex where you'd filled their pussies full of your hot cum.

There's nowhere else you'd rather be at this very moment.

[fuckaperioddrama]

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic!Enzo | Mentions of Cheating | Rough Sex | Dirty Talk | Manipulation | Mentions of Oral Sex (Masc and Fem Receiving) | Mentions of Alcohol and Drug Consumption | Hints at Threesome/Foursome | Edging | Degradation Kink | Mentions of Violence

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Theodore Nott Headcanons Mattheo Riddle Headcanons Blaise Zabini Headcanons Tom Riddle Headcanons Draco Malfoy Headcanons Regulus Black Headcanons Masterlist

Author's Note: I feel like the other boys have a lot of grey areas. There are some things we disagree on, but generally we’re all pretty much on the same page. LORENZO BERKSHIRE??? So many different takes.

Lorenzo Berkshire first appeared in a Draco Malfoy Fanfiction. “Filthy,” by babynaomi. You can find it on Wattpad, but here’s the link. It’s completed! The author also has a series called, “The Diary of Lorenzo Berkshire." Y’all can find the link for that here. It’s ongoing!

I’m keeping in mind how the author wrote him, but I’m also giving myself a lot of creative freedom. This is all a combination of how I think Enzo is based off of what I’ve read and also how I imagine him. I don’t want to write him exactly as someone else has portrayed him. Once again, some of you guys might strongly disagree with me and that’s okay! No one is right, we’re all just having fun. Anyways. Without further ado… Lorenzo Charles Berkshire!

MDNI | 18+

Lorenzo Berkshire | Physique

6’4 | He’s the second tallest in the group after Theo

I imagine him to be very broad and lean.

Broad shoulders, big chest, Like a thick Dorito, you know?

Everything about him is big

Big hands, feet, forearms, just…big

| Theo is the kind of tall where as you get closer to him you’re like, “Oh wow, this guys pretty tall.” Whereas with Lorenzo, you can see this man from 20 feet away and just KNOW. You just KNOW |

I don’t know why, he just seems like he’s into health and fitness but to an annoying extent?

Like why the fuck are you running 4 miles at 5:00 AM, Lorenzo? Go back to bed.

He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, but he's also someone who is effortlessly flawless

He tries, but even when he doesn’t he still looks perfect.

He's guy that puts you in a trance. No thoughts, just admiration.

Lorenzo Berkshire | Personality

Lorenzo Berkshire is frustrating.

He’s one of those ‘nice guys’ that reads poetry, plays piano, is into the the classics, and overall seems very aesthetically pleasing.

From afar, it’s easy to admire him. To want him.

But then you have an actual conversation with him and you end up fantasizing about punching him in his stupid, pretty face.

Mansplains.

Automatically assumes everyone isn’t as smart as he is. Even if you say you know what he’s talking about, there’s no way someone like you could possibly comprehend him.

GOD COMPLEX!

If you’re not in his friend group then you’re beneath him.

Only time he’s somewhat pleasant to people outside of his group is when he wants something. Usually sex.

Genuinely enjoys making people upset. He thinks if he can affect someone emotionally then he is automatically the one in charge in that situation and he likes being in charge.

Somehow is still popular? Everyone loves him and hates him at the same time.

Charming asshole.

There's just something about him that draws people in.

Inserts himself as a leader amongst everyone, but he can’t do that with the boys. He definitely tries from time to time, but they shut him down immediately.

He does fit into the aesthetic he portrays.

Reading by the black lake while enjoying a mini picnic he packed for himself

Loves art. I feel like he’d collect art pieces for himself and also really enjoys poetry

He is drawn toward nature and really does see the beauty in everything around him.

He’d spend a good 5 minutes just staring a spider web, admiring it’s beauty appreciating the work that went into it.

He sees a cigarette bud on the sidewalk and thinks it’s ‘poetic’ looking.

He observes the female body in all its art forms and he explores every inch of it every second he gets.

With multiple subjects. Sometimes two or three at a time.

He’s also a major party animal.

Drinking games, piercing loud music, and sex is an average weekend for him.

Never gets hungover and will burst into the boys rooms screaming GOOD MORNING at the top of his lungs after a night out just to piss them off

Despite his party boy behavior, he actually excels in school. Participates in class, high marks, etc

He's smart, but not super smart. He has to dedicate some time to study in order to keep his grades.

Can totally see him being a teachers pet. He takes pride in being favored by people in positions of power. He feels like it gives him power.

Very confident in his looks.

Keeper in Quiddditch because it feeds his ego. No one can make it past him.

Smokes weed. More of a drinker though.

Would and has done a keg stand.

Lorenzo Berkshire | Casanova

SLUT!

He has sex all the time and it’s never a secret.

He’s always talking about who he fucked, where he fucked them, and he likes to rate them too.

He keeps a mental note of who is the best at what so he knows who to go back to for certain things.

He has a blowjob person, a doggy style person, and a ‘will let me do whatever to them no questions asked’ person.

Egotistical Dirty Talker

He likes to praise himself and be praised

Listen to you. Whimpering like that already? I’ve barely even started.

It feels good doesn’t it? Tell me how good it feels.

You can't find better than this. You know nobody can compare me.

He goes on dates and has had a few girlfriends.

He loves the rush of everything being new. First kiss, first touch, first fuck.

He always cheats when he’s in a relationship with these women. He has some friends with benefits who he disguises in his social circles as just friends

He likes seeing his girlfriend fall in love with him, it makes him feel desired. But once he gets bored of her he immediately breaks it off.

It’s a complete flip too. He genuinely seems like he cares about them and then out of nowhere it’s like he just turns it off.

Will keep them on rotation though. Whenever he’s horny he texts a bunch of random people and will fuck whoever responded first.

Then when he leaves he’ll fuck whoever responded second.

Lorenzo Berkshire | Friend

Closest to Draco, but still has a unique special bond with all the boys

He’s had these individual moments with each of them that really made them closer

He’s a good friend to have,

He’s always there to help out and cheer the boys up when they’re having a bad day.

The jokester of the group and always knows how to make them laugh

He will defend his boys against anyone. He can say whatever he wants about them, but the second an outsider disrespects them he tears them apart.

He cares about them, but he has a temper.

Becomes a complete asshole when he feels threatened by one of them.

He is a jealous person and if one of the boys does better than him at something he lashes out.

Eggs them on, does petty shit behind their back like put itching powder in their underwear or hide their notes before a test.

He’s the center of most arguments in the group, but they always just punch it out and move on

At the end of they day, they love him and he loves them | Men are weird.

Lorenzo Berkshire | Boyfriend

Obsessive

He sees you as his other half

Since he thinks very highly of himself he feels like you’re some sort of a goddess to be the only woman to ever grab his full attention.

He never stops thinking about you. It drives him CRAZY

He’s always staring at you because everything about you is perfect to him.

Even when you’re stressed, sad, tired, or are not feeling like your normal self physically or emotionally he still is absolutely enthralled by you. Bad days and good days. He'll take it all. All of you every second.

Genuinely thinks you could do no wrong and will back you up in any situation.

You burned down a house? Must have had your reasons. | He supports women’s rights and wrongs.

He actually enjoys it when other guys flirt with you. He likes to watch their reaction when he walks up to you guys and claims you as his right in front of them.

Arrogant strides, one foot after the other before he yanks you to him, your eyes meeting his in surprise. He puts one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist as he ravenously presses his lips against yours. His tongue invades your mouth and his hands wonder instantly, groping every part of you. Your thoughts cloud as you mold yourself into his touch and all the while Enzo is staring at the guy the entire time.

The next day he finds them in some secluded hallway and breaks their jaw. He holds them by the collar, staring at them with a smile as the blood runs from their mouth.

I'm going to break one bone for each time you flirt with my girlfriend. Next one will be your neck.

You can never talk to another guy for long before Enzo is by your side and claiming you as his for everyone to see

Enzo is big on Physical Touch because it feeds his ego that he is the only one that can touch you.

Plus touching you just feels so damn good.

Pulling you into dark corners of the library and walking out with you sporting 2 love bites on your neck and at least seven on your thighs.

Hand low on your back, always touching your ass just a little bit as you walk.

Gripping the very top of your thighs when you sit together.

He always has his hand slightly under your skirt and a bit too high for everyone else’s comfort.

But if you dare try to move it, growing shy of everyone’s looks, he stares you down immediately.

Try to move my hand again, Princess. I’ll move it up higher and teach you a lesson right here in front of everyone. You want that? You want me to make you cum in front of all these people?

But if the stares bother you too much then Enzo would drag you back to his dorm so he can touch you in private.

Enzo enjoys the soft touches as well as the rough ones.

He touches you like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to

Desperate hands clinging to you, holding your head in his hands as he kisses your forehead and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs.

Pulling you in for hugs that last forever, savoring every moment.

Slow and loving kisses every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed. He thinks it’s ‘good luck’ to start and end his day with a kiss.

He gets so moody if you ever wake up before him and leave without giving him a one.

He’ll storm up to you no matter where you are or who you’re with and he’ll just grab you and start smothering you with kisses.

Forehead, cheek, nose, lips, neck, wherever.

I need to compensate for my loss.

Huge romantic. Goes above and beyond.

Candlelit dinners, picnics, vacations, and he will spend days, weeks, or even months planning out every single detail.

Nothing ever goes wrong because he doesn’t let it. If something falls through then he’ll find a way to make it happen anyways. You will get nothing less than the best.

Enzo likes to spoil you

Gift Giving

While dating Enzo your wardrobe will continue to grow.

There’s just something so sexy to him about seeing you wear things he bought you.

Clothes, shoes, bags, necklaces, bracelets, etc.

Would buy you a promise ring early into the relationship because he loves fast and hard. Also because he likes to look at the ring on your finger.

And make sure everyone else looks at the ring on your finger.

He likes to let everyone know how much he spoils you so they know they could never compete with him.

But there's also moments that he saves just for when it’s the two of you, wanting the intimacy of being alone.

Without fail he always shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet and your favorite treat once a week. Never on the same day though. He likes to keep you on your toes.

Gift baskets. Lorenzo Berkshire is a gift basket man. He likes to buy you multiple things because he feels like only gifting you one item is never enough.

He would never just leave the items in the bag because he wants to have it nicely on display to you so he can see your reaction as your eyes scan all the different things.

He can and will give you the world.

Quality Time and Words of Affirmations

Enzo likes to spend time with you.

As I mentioned before, he sees you as an extension of himself so wherever he goes you go.

Sometimes you have to convince him to do things without you so that the boys can have a break.

They love you, but you see them roll their eyes as they try to talk to Enzo and his focus is solely on you.

He just sits next to you, kissing your jaw as he whispers in your ear

Do you know how sexy you look right now?

Mmmm, I love you so much.

You wanna get out of here? I'm hungry.

You’re just trying to do them a favor since Enzo would probably ruin his entire friend group if one of them even suggested not bringing you along

Enzo, it’s boys night! I can’t tag along on boys night.

Well why the fuck not?

He’s so stubborn. He can not fathom spending more than five seconds without you.

Eventually you’ll convince him to go have fun, but as soon as he’s done he’s back by your side in an instant.

That was awful, I’m never leaving you again.

You didn’t have any fun?

Of course I didn’t. Why would you even ask me that?

You’re being dramatic.

No, I’m not. You have to come next time. It's the only way Malfoy will make it out alive. If you’re with me there’s less of a chance I’ll beat him to the ground after hearing him complain for the hundredth time within the hour. Blaise had to stop me from killing him at least six times tonight.

If you’re there then I won’t have to explain to Narcissa why she can’t see her cry baby bitch of a son ever again.

You can’t help but laugh at his behavior, brushing him off before getting ready for bed.

And after any time spent without you, Enzo’s clingy behavior always becomes more intense. As soon as you wake up he's attached at the hip, making up for lost time and doing everything for you as an excuse to stay close to you

But Enzo has a funny way of doing things for you. He always incorporates a little bit of teasing into his Acts of Service

Bending down to lace your shoe and grabbing your hand afterwards as he looks into your eyes and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle.

Flattening out the back of your ruffled uniformed skirt as you standup, grabbing your ass in the process.

Replacing your conditioner when the bottle starts to run low and leaving a note right next to it

“So your hair still feels silky smooth when I hold it while you choke on my cock.

Broom closet later?

Your Enzo”

Even though he likes taking care of you, it’s never for free.

Giving you his notes if you miss class, bringing you tea on late studying nights, or going out to buy you your favorite snacks when you ask him to

He always walks up to you, a grin on his face as he turns his head to the side and awaits his payment. You smile softly and press a kiss against his cheek.

Thank you, Enzo.

I’m at your service, Angel.

Now where’s my tip?

Lorenzo Berkshire | Committed Lover

Dating Lorenzo Berkshire is not for the weak.

Once again, Enzo loves to tease you.

Edging. Enzo will edge you for HOURS and he watches you every second

Sitting on the floor of his room, your heart thumping against your chest as you feel the pressure in your abdomen build before being ripped from of you. You cry in frustration looking up at Enzo through the reflection of the mirror in front of you. Your back is rested against his front, your legs spread wide open as he continues to pleasure and torture you at the same time.

Enzo! Please let me cum! Please!

I think I want to enjoy the view just a little while longer.

Degradation kink. Enzo prefers to be the dominant one because he loves being in control of you.

After edging you he’ll look you in the eyes as he spits in his hand wraps it around his huge, veiny cock. Up and down his hand begins to move, taking his pre-cum and using it as extra lubrication. He bites his lip as his eyes slowly move down your body. Fuck. His pace quickens and he rolls his head back, letting out the most bone chilling moan.

Beg for it.

Enzo...I need you

You can do better than that, baby. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you. Tell me how much of whore you are for me.

He lets you top sometimes.

He only does it if he’s feeling tired, lazy, or if he’s just in the mood to sit back and watch.

Arms rested behind his head as he looks up at you with a smirk. Something about watching you use him just does something to him.

Go on, darling. Do your worst.

And you do. Bouncing on his cock so hard the headboard starts bang against the wall. Pretty soon Enzo’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he’s gripping onto the sheets for the life of him as you fuck the soul out of his body.

It’s now you wearing the smirk as your boyfriend hangs his mouth open, gasping for air. He can barely comprehend a thing other than the feeling of your wet pussy moving up and down his cock

I’m not sure you can handle my worst, darling.

Enzo smiles to himself as you put him in his place. He had finally met his match and he couldn’t be happier.

[delirious-donna]

The Surprise [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: it’s 2am and here I am posting this smut-filled fic because I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about this man. p.s. requests are open for Higuruma specifically so drop me an ask if you wanna give me some ideas for everyone’s favourite lawyer!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: lingerie, pussy drunk Hiromi (it’s canon don’t fight me), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it folks) and other goodies

Masterlist

“Will that be everything for you today?” The cheery assistant asked offering a genuine smile whilst they rang through your purchases and packed them carefully into a neat little box.

Your stomach fluttered with the thought of what might transpire this coming weekend, a long-planned weekend that couldn’t arrive quick enough. The delicate tissue paper wrapped around the items inside the box before the assistant closed it over, tied a ribbon securely and placed it in a paper bag.

“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it!”

With a bounce in your step and a sizeable dent in your bank balance, you exited the boutique store to daydream about your husband’s reaction to your little splurge. Neither of you were accustomed to dropping large sums of money so randomly, both believing that an air of caution and frugality would see you through any potential storms on the horizon, but you had walked past this store so many times and finally been tempted into their den of sinful delights.

Inclusive-sized mannequins displayed a range of differently styled lingerie, from demure bridal wear to raunchy strips of leather and wide mesh that would leave very little to the imagination. At first, you were convinced it would only be window shopping, however, when you spied an elegant-looking black bodysuit that seemed like it would hold all your bits in without compromising the sex appeal element, it was game over.

Once you were interested, the friendly young assistant swooped in and soon you were trying it on in the fancy dressing room. The lighting was complimenting rather than garishly fluorescent, and the lull of soft, sensual music added to the overall experience, one you were rather enjoying. The strapless bodysuit hugged your curves and accentuated your décolletage nicely. Clearly, it was designed by scientists to support your breasts without cumbersome straps, and you silently praised their ingenuity. Paired with crotchless fishnet tights that you could secure beneath the suit—a suggestion from your enthusiastic little helper—you knew that Hiromi would likely lose his mind and you couldn’t wait.

Your poor, overworked and perpetually exhausted husband had been burning the candle at both ends for the past nearly four months, neck deep in a case that if he were to win would be a monumental victory in his career. In support, you packed him off every morning with a full lunch consisting of his favourite foods, mostly to encourage him to actually eat instead of consuming mug after mug of rancid instant coffee. In your evenings, you helped him go over witness testimonies, read over his arguments for clarity, and did everything you could to lighten his load around the house. It wouldn’t be a permanent arrangement, you both knew that, and to say he appreciated your support was an understatement.

That’s why when he told you that it was all drawing to a conclusion and that he was cautiously optimistic it would end in his favour, you revelled in that knowledge. Whether it did come to fruition or not, his weekend would be free, and he promised to spend some real quality time with you without the cloud of looming work. There was nothing more he could do, no more past cases he could study and the thought of basking in his undivided attention warmed your heart and soul.

With two days remaining before your scheduled weekend plans to do absolutely nothing but relax and unwind in each other’s presence, you again peeked at the box you’d tucked into your side of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes. Maybe it was a bout of nerves, a moment of body consciousness, that made you pull your surprise out to examine the contents. Whatever it was, you worried your bottom lip once the intimate outfit was laid out on the bedspread.

“What was I thinking… this is too much,” you quietly scolded yourself.

Flopping beside the expensive scraps of fabric, you brushed a palm down your face and reminded yourself that you looked fucking divine in the changing room of the boutique, so why would it be any different now? More so, you knew deep in your heart that Hiromi adored you and thought you were a goddess, one he claimed he didn’t deserve.

A few moments later, you stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe to scrutinise your reflection. Your eyes narrowed as you tugged the sweetheart cups into place and felt the soft squish of your breast jiggle inside. Turning to the side, a hand ran the length of your torso with a grin unfurling at the tight hug of the sheer-panelled fabric. Damn, your backside looked real good from this angle. But maybe the fishnets were too much, you mused, turning this way and that.

You ran your fingers through your hair, wondering if you should try to style it, maybe give it some more volume and texture. It was at that moment, whilst making kissy faces at your reflection with your hands scrunching handfuls of your hair and up on your tippy toes to extend the length of your legs, that the bedroom door opened, and you froze like a deer in headlights.

~

Higuruma Hiromi was on cloud nine. Not only had he won a career-defining case against all the odds, but the judge had also taken less time to deliberate than anyone expected they would. After a hearty swig of celebratory champagne drank from crappy paper cups with his partner and their secretaries, he was on the first train home to truly celebrate with the only person that mattered—you.

What he didn’t expect to find when he entered the house as stealthily as he could manage was the vision of you standing in the middle of the bedroom looking like one of the pin-up models from the magazines he would hide under his mattress as a young man.

Like a slightly tipsy house cat, he tiptoed his way through the rooms, listening for signs of you and driving straight towards the bedroom to surprise you with his unannounced return. The door bounced open on its hinges and he stood, shell-shocked for a moment before it turned to white-hot appreciation.

You looked beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even. There weren’t enough colourful adjectives for how he felt about you at any given time, but right now, modelling a black bodysuit that hugged both your butt and your breasts, he was entirely dumbstruck. Hiromi didn’t know where to look, or whether you’d rather he look away given your strangled yelp of surprise at his sudden appearance. You made no effort to cover yourself or shove him out the door, no, you both faced one another as if neither of you knew what to do or say.

His eyes continued to betray him, slowly caressing the length of your figure and finding new things to appreciate; the sweetheart cups, the gauzy panels that allowed him glimpses of your skin beneath, and not to mention the fishnet tights. He hadn’t seen you wear anything like those since your dating years, and he had forgotten how much he missed them, or how many he had ruined by ripping through the gusset in his haste.

“What are you doing home?” You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and back to your husband, heat filling your face but something else followed on the tails of your embarrassment, something more pleasant.

Hiromi ran this thumb over his mouth, gaze pointedly fixed on your chest, and you cleared your throat with emphasis until he finally met your eye and the arch of your eyebrow. Already his neck looked red, like a rash had spread from below the collar of his shirt and travelled towards his jaw. If you could describe a person as having hearts for eyes, it would be one Higuruma Hiromi and you adored him for his open adoration.

“We… I won,” he managed weakly, smiling as if coming out of a daze and you blinked for a moment while processing the words.

“You won?”

He chuckled. “I won.”

A wealth of emotions passed over your face until you ended with ecstatic pride, tears near pricking your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms and peppered his cheeks and nose with enough kisses to make him blush more furiously. His hands settled on your hips, his touch more hesitant than you would expect given the circumstances and you pulled back to give him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

“Darling…” he started, skimming his fingertips up and down your sides before rounding to your full backside and squeezing as he spoke. “What’s this?”

In your joy, you had forgotten that Hiromi had walked in on you wearing the lingerie that was meant to be for this weekend and meant to be a surprise. You guessed it still had been, although not the one you planned. “Oh, just a little something to show my hardworking man that I love and adore him. Nothing much.”

“Nothing much…” he repeated in a disbelieving whisper. A finger ran the length of your spine, from the top of your backside to near the base of your skull, dragging it slowly and watching you shudder beneath his deliberate touch. Your shoulder blades shifted, pushing your chest out further and into his, which earned you a groan of appreciation.

“I wouldn’t call this nothing much. You look like a wet dream come to life.”

He walked you backwards, the scent of champagne hot on his breath and your stomach curled into a mass of twisted anticipation—heavy in the depths of your belly. Your thighs crashed into the edge of the bed and Hiromi used your moment of imbalance to shove you atop, quickly shucking out of his jacket and crawling over you.

“Hiromi,” you squeaked between peals of laughter. The man in question only hummed in response, his hooded eyes heavy with nothing that spoke of fatigue. The whisky colour of his eyes appeared blown almost completely black by the dilation of his pupils, and he licked over his lips in what looked like anticipation of a hearty meal.

That meal was you…

Any protest you might have offered died in your throat when he claimed your mouth like a man possessed. His tongue curled over your teeth, pushing the memory of champagne into the space he dominated and greedily swallowing your answering moan. His forearms bracketed your head, keeping you caged and unable to run from him, not that you had any desire to, not when you could feel the press of his cock thickening against your lower half.

Loosening the knot of his tie with one finger, you took the moment to grab fistfuls of the shirt at his back, tugging the tails out of his trousers and sliding your palms beneath the starched surface to scratch along his spine. Hiromi shuddered, the disconnect of your lips an audible pop that left a web of saliva between you, only breaking with a quick swipe of your pink tongue.

“I don’t even have my make-up or hair done, you beast!” The half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears, or so you thought when his mouth moved to your neck and down to your collarbone, sucking little blooming lovebites on his journey. When he reached the abundant swell of your breasts, he glanced up whilst his tongue pathed across the top of your left breast, dipping into the valley between and then resuming the path over the right.

“You think I need face paint or styled hair to love you more? Fuck, sweetheart… I nearly came in my briefs the minute I opened the door.” The length of his aquiline nose nudged between your breasts, nuzzling the soft mounds like a cat warming by the fire. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wriggled beneath him and let out a breathy sigh, the weight and conviction of his love settling over you in perfect comfort. There would be no more argument from you, and Hiromi won for the second time that day.

With methodical slowness he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lave the sheer panels at either side of your abdomen and forcing you to arch from the warm sensation of his eager tongue. You’d barely managed to get his shirt off his shoulders before he was exploring you like this was his first time with your body. The white button-up hung down his back, sleeves caught by his elbows, and he made no move to strip it off much to your annoyance.

He stopped abruptly when he reached your pelvic mound, chin resting there whilst his fingers trailed the arch of your foot, up the inside of your calf and tickled behind your knee. “Stop that, mister!” You scolded with laughter threatening to bubble out.

“Spread ‘em and I will,” he challenged with a smirk.

The space between your freshly parted thighs became his home, an arm wound around your hip pawing at the fat of your thigh and the line where it met your arse, eliciting shivers that rippled over your skin like a calm lake disturbed by a skimming stone. He fingered the two snaps that kept the bodysuit in place, stroking firmly over your clothed cunt and pushing the barrier deeper until it started to feel sticky from your arousal. Looking all too smug, he freed the snaps with a grunt of satisfaction, sure that his next step would be to rip through the gusset of your raunchy fishnets so he could taste you. That moment never came.

You felt the vibration shudder through your husband, his head falling forward to obscure what you could see of his face, and you rocked your hips back and forth in invitation. The cool air of the room contrasted by the hot fan of his breath on your slit made you clench around a disappointing nothing, frowning at his sudden pause.

For a long moment, there was only silence. When he looked up, his expression nearly stole your breath. Thick black eyebrows pinched together, visible strain around his drooped eyes and a throaty whine made your pussy flutter with need. This was the Hiromi that only came out to play every now and again. The one who would wring you like a wet dish towel for just one more orgasm, one more mouthful of your hot nectar.

“Crotchless, really?” he murmured, dragging a finger across your puffy folds where the thin membrane of the tights should have resided and you nearly jolted upwards to the ceiling, having forgotten that little fact in the heat of the moment.

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you gave a cheeky wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about all the pairs of tights you’ve ruined over the years. These were just a… precaution.” Hiromi groaned, thrusting his face into your pussy without warning. The flat of his tongue ran the length of you, making you perfectly slippery in mere seconds, only for the tip of the wet muscle to fuck into your entrance immediately.

“Oh, fuck… Hiro!”

You yanked great tufts of his hair to no avail; he was lost to eating you out like a man starved. The prominent slope of his nose slid back and forth across your bundle of nerves, and it lit up your insides like the continuous explosion of miniature firecrackers.

Whining from his sudden onslaught, you tried to run by easing up the bed, but your attempts were shot down in flames by sharp insistent tugs of your hips. Hiromi was enthusiastic at the best of times when it came to going down on you, but it was nothing compared to right now. The wet squelching sucks of his lips and tongue flooded the bedroom, only being accompanied by your decadent moans and panting breaths as you tried not to lose your sanity entirely.

Hiromi was lost in you; the scent of your favourite body wash, the taste of your arousal when it trickled from your core mixed with the slight salt of your skin, the plush silk of your thighs beneath his prodding fingertips and the unrestrained noises that caressed his ears.

He almost missed your orgasm so clouded was his mind in the quest to turn you into a puddle of liquid goo for only his consumption. The wave of it crested through the length of your body, vibrating every limb and twitching each nerve ending. Your spine arched from the unmade sheets, the hand coiled tight in Hiromi’s hair spasming and tugging without even meaning to and that’s when he noticed. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his lips around your pulsing clit and sucked it deeper into his mouth.

Stars winked into your vision at being thrust from one orgasm directly into another so violently. Your pussy fluttered ceaselessly, a craving deep in your gut to be filled at all costs, yet right now all you could do was hold on for dear life whilst you bucked and rutted against your husband’s face, wetting it thoroughly. He nosed at your quaking thigh, sharp incisors nipping your yielding flesh until you yelped and tried to close your legs without success.

You became aware of movement, the absence of shoulders beneath your thighs and you blinked to find a desperate predator stripping off his clothes whilst prowling back and forth at the foot of the bed. Hiromi grasped his cock, tugging it down to the base to spread the leaked precum that continued to dribble from his cockhead. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had already cum, but he was always the excitable type who would leak and leak until you did something about it, usually opting to take him down your throat until he convulsed and spilt everything he had to offer.

Your hand trailed lower down your body, fingers playing in the spit-soaked mess he’d left behind in his hurry to stand and strip. Hiromi whined; head cocked to the side as he watched you play idly with your puffy lips flooded with the surge of blood and circling your pert little pearl. He fucked his fist harder, the other hand rolling his heavy balls until his stomach sucked in and your nostrils flared in warning.

“C’mere mister lawyer, I don’t want you wasting your orgasm when it could be filling me nicely.”

How quickly the tables could turn. One minute he was the predator, pawing and demanding, taking what he wanted without question, and the next he was the prey. Trapped on his back with cheeks a ruddy hue and eyes that begged for clemency. Your much small hand encased his dick, twisting your palm on each upward stroke while you straddled him and rocked yourself against the balls he’d just been palming.

His hands shook with restraint as they reached for your breasts, filling his broad palms and massaging them until you dipped low to claim his lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his mouth and the sensation empowered you, fucking his throbbing cock through your folds until he twitched and whimpered some more.

“Please… fuck. Need to be inside. Might not last. God, you’re so fucking sexy. Don’t deserve you.” Hiromi babbled every syllable, sounding drunk when there was little to no alcohol left in his system.

His fingertips dipped inside the cups of your bodysuit, tweaking at your nipples and you indulged his silent request by allowing him to fold the cups down and let the spill of your tits fill his face. With renewed vigour and enthusiasm, he mouthed at you and ran his tongue in circles around your nipples one at a time.

You keened at the familiar sensation, swept away by a current of pure indulgence when he moved to suckle you. It was the perfect moment to strike, with Hiromi distracted in flicking his tongue over and over, round and round your swollen bud, you guided him to notch at your entrance and slowly sank onto his needy dick. He grunted; his grip tightening on your waist, but he refused to come up for air, continuing to nudge his nose into your breast, lips pulling the nipple taut until he finally released with a gasp.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you more than I can express.”

Hiromi worshipped you with his gaze, eyes full of devotion and unbridled passion whilst you rode him steadily. The sticky pap pap pap of your pelvis meeting his was the soundtrack to your lovemaking, because beneath the sexy lingerie and the ideas you had planned for the weekend, that’s what this was and always would be. You knew he didn’t need the extra faff to love you with his whole heart. You knew that he was aroused by you simply walking through the kitchen in a pair of his boxers.

You knew he loved you for you.

His dappled cheeks darkened further, the furrow of his brow telling of how he was trying to stave off his release, but you wanted him as undone as you had been, and you would not be denied. Leaning forward, your palms found purchase on his shoulders, breasts bouncing freely in time with your hips, and you squeezed around his shaft until the vein in his temple popped and he let out a guttural groan.

Hiromi grabbed around your middle, flipping you up and over so that he could thrust himself into overstimulation without hindrance. Pressing your thighs to your chest, you heard the telltale rip and knew that another pair of tights had fallen victim to Higuruma Hiromi despite your best efforts to keep them safe. His swollen cock pumped thick spurts of his milky cum against your cervix, filling you to the brim yet continuing to sloppily thrust in and out.

“-cum again… gotta—fuckkk. You’re so tight,” he bit through the words, fighting the steady burn of overstimulation to see you orgasm for the third time and you were close. A glob of spit landed against your clit, thick fingers shaking from exertion rubbing the frothy mess into you with insistent motions. He was a man possessed, falling apart for him was as easy as drawing breath and he caught you on your free fall.

You chanted his name in some semblance of a prayer, thrashing and clawing at anything you could reach until you milked him again and he lost the ability to hold himself up. Hiromi fell atop you, his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hot shuddering moans stifled by his mouth on your neck while he weakly tried to bear some of his weight onto an arm.

“Stop squirming, you’re not that heavy, Hiro,” you teased with a light slap against his back.

Once you could both speak without sounding winded, you combed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, moving the strands that stuck to his forehead away until you could trace his eyebrows, his jaw, and the bridge of his nose. “Y’know… you ripped my tights—again.”

Hiromi chuckled, rubbing his cheek against your chest. “I did, and I’d do it again. Maybe give them a miss if we do this again, hm?”

“You liked the surprise then?”

“I already told you that I did, not that I needed it. All I ever need is you.”

It was your turn to chuckle, booping the tip of his nose. “Maybe when I show you the receipt, you’ll change your tune.”

“… sweetheart. How much did it cost? Don’t roll away, missy! Answer my question. Hey. Hey! You have to answer the lawyer when they ask a question.”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show 3

Masterpost

I got so inspired and had so much fun writing for part 2 I just kept going. I have determined that this 'fic' should be about 7 parts long total. And here's Part 3, because I'm enjoying the nonsense of this so much.

~~~~~

“Congratulations on successfully finishing the first challenge! You can make your way back to the main room to receive your clue.”

The screen changes once Nightwing is on the stage with them. It now shows what looks like a wheel of fortune puzzle. Three words, four letters, four letters, and seven letters.

“For your clue, you can choose a letter for the puzzle!” Danny explains. “Since there are four of you we will give you four letters automatically, and you each have the chance to earn an extra letter. For the freebies! E, the most common vowel in English.”

“Looks like no E’s in this puzzle.” Danny shrugs at the boys with a grin on his face. “For the next three letters, we have the three most common consonants: T, N, and S!”

“Three letters up, two N’s and one T.” Danny turns away from the screen to face Nightwing. “What letter would you like to choose?” Dick turns to look at Red and Jason “This portion is not collaborative.” Danny cuts in with a small frown, making everyone look back at him. “You earned the letter, you choose the letter. They only get to pick a letter after they’ve earned one.”

Nightwing grimaces slightly. “A?” 

“A!” Danny turns back to the screen.

“One A!” Danny turns back. “The next challenge is a sword fight against Fright Knight! Who would like to sword fight?”

Damian very quickly raised his hand. Tim almost wanted to smack him, but as similar as a bo staff can be, and as much as he doesn’t want Damian in danger, Damian does have the most extensive sword training amongst them.

Danny takes Damian to pick out his sword. “I see that you have a sword already, but the fight is to first blood and you can’t harm Fright Knight with that sword, so that’s kind of unfair. We need to get you a weapon that will actually be able to hit your opponent.” They leave through a side door, but they leave it open so everyone can see all the weapon racks and Danny as he shows Damian around.

Tim leans towards Dick and Jason as Dick takes his seat in the middle chair. “Cool, so our weapons can’t actually hurt them, good to know. What exactly are we going to be asking the King at the end of this?”

“What do you mean?” Dick asks.

“I think he means that if we want to get back to our dimension we don’t want to piss off everyone here by wasting their time.” Jason spits out, sitting up and turning towards them. “They didn’t seem to take too kindly to that idea earlier.”

Dick winces and nods. “We could ask him to deal with the cult that brought us here.”

“What if he kills all of them?” 

“Well, you clearly have an idea Red, why don’t you tell us instead of making us guess.” Jason complains.

“Diplomatic relations.” Red states. “New dimension, new culture. We’re here to learn, maybe we could ask to set up a meeting between the King and Batman, or the Justice League.”

“The whole point of this is to get a meeting, what do you think he’s going to do if we use this meeting to ask for a different meeting?”

“Jason has a point. Maybe we could just ask to set up a way to communicate between us?” Dick suggests.

“I have obtained a sufficient weapon.” Damian calls out as he and Danny approach. Danny comes up onto the stage, heading back to the podium, but Damian doesn’t waste his time going back up and instead waits by the short stairs for further instructions. He is holding a katana, similar to the one he is used to, but with a different grip and that is glowing.

“So, since you’re using a semi unfamiliar weapon, Fright Knight is not going to be allowed to use his Soul Shredder, just to make it fair. And just in case he draws first blood, we don’t want to accidentally send anybody to their nightmare dimension!” Danny chirps out cheerfully. “You will be fighting in here, just stay on the main floor and away from bystanders. Fight will immediately end at first blood, no maiming, no killing, no excessive force. No use of powers is permitted.”

Danny gestures to where Fright Knight is exiting the armory with a regular looking broadsword. “This is Fright Knight.” Fright Knight waves as he comes over, stopping next to Damian so they’re both standing beneath the stage.

“Are you both ready?” The two swordsmen take a few steps away from each other and take positions before nodding. “Begin!”

[77gigabytes]

The Fox's Den {Sylus x Reader}

This just kinda...spilled out of my brain... It started off as a few paragraphs and then spiraled into this, but uh, enjoy.

FAIR WARNING!!! THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG, I MIGHT HAVE TO SPLIT IT INTO PARTS ACTUALLY IDK

You’re finishing some paperwork at HQ when Jenna slides a manila folder on your desk.

“Advance tech labs has another mission for you.” She says and crosses her arms over her chest, “Hear them out first. Then go take a look.”

As if on cue, your watch beeps with a notification.

You click on it and the mission’s user interface window pops up.

Client: Unspecified - Investigative mission Status: ACTIVE Authorisation: Approved entry - No Hunt Zones: 105, 106, 107, 108

Task details: High-class Linkon residents have been seen carrying protocores to Fox’s Den, a host club, on the outskirts of Linkon. There are suspicions that the club is being used as a trading venue to sell and modify high-grade protocores into the N109 zone.

Objective: INVESTIGATE Fox’s Den FOR PROTOCORE SMUGGLERS. DO NOT ENGAGE OR ELIMINATE SUSPECTS. THIS IS AN INVESTIGATION ONLY.

As you re-read the objectives, Jenna speaks once more, “Have a look through this folder before heading to the Data Sector. ” She places her hand above the folder, “Nero and Tara are waiting there with some more information for you.”

You give her a small nod, “Yes, Captain. Will do.”

You do as you’re told and flick through the contents of the folder.

“Huh, the address is near the N109 zone?” You whisper.

Sylus has a safe house near there, I think.

It’ll be easier to complete the mission if you could crash there every now and then.

I’ll ask him when I have the chance.

There’s a few photos of the club tucked into the folder and from what you can see, it’s quite luxurious.

Entering the club shouldn’t be a problem with the brooch Sylus gave me. Hmmm. I might need to visit Jeremiah some time soon to forge another identity.

You sift through a few more pages and a photo catches your eye. It’s of a blonde woman with a hunter’s uniform and badge but stamped across the page is the word ‘TENEBRA’ in bold red lettering.

“Hmmm,” You hum as you read the sticky note attached, “If encountered, detain immediately? Who is this?”

What had she done to be labelled a Tenebra?

With that thought in mind, you think to your own situation.

Your involvement with Sylus is more than enough grounds to label you a Tenebra, but you brush that thought aside quickly.

“MC?”

Your head perks up from the sound of your name and you quickly press the folder to your chest, “Oh! Tara… Nero. I was just leaving to see you guys, actually.”

“About the case, right? Isn’t it interesting?” Tara grins, “But, yes we came here instead because Nero thinks that the Data Sector is too noisy.”

“They’re blabbing about all the time, it’s dizzying.” He retorts.

He pulls a nearby chair and motions for the two of you to come around, “Come, we’ve got work to do.”

The three of you discuss the case for a while until you ask, “Why am I being sent alone? Aren’t mission usually done in pairs?”

“Yes, well… Technically, it’s only an investigative mission, so the higher-ups don’t think we should waste resources on a mere investigation.” Nero makes quotation marks with his fingers. “You’ve got orders not to engage where possible.”

Tara leans forward to argue, “But even still, Fox’s Den is surrounded by no hunt zones! Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yes, that’s true, and speaking of which…” He opens some tabs up on his laptop, “As I’m sure you’ve seen, you’ve been approved access to all no hunt zones surrounding the area.”

You nod, looking back at your watch and also the map that spread across the table.

“But that’s not the problem.” Nero continues, “The problem is getting into the club.”

You furrow your brows, “What?” You tilt you head, “Can’t I just go in as a client?”

He clicks his tongue, “They’ve got a very specific clientele.” He says and then draws a rectangle with his fingers, “Invite only.” He emphasises. “Did you think you could just waltz into the place?Everyday?”

You tense for a moment. I thought… with the brooch...

But you can’t tell them about the brooch; They’ll ask you how you got it. So you settle with, “I- well,” you scratch your temple, “I haven’t really thought that far yet.”

...

Your meeting with the two ended just as the sun dipped completely below the horizon

Somehow, they’ve got you a position as one of the hostesses.

You huff. You don’t know a thing about being a hostess.

To be fair, being a hostess would give you the widest variety of intel.

Never had you thought you’d be going undercover like this, but the job must be done, you suppose.

You harshly tug your helmet on and head to Sylus’ safe house on your 270HM.

If he says no, then you can just scout the area on the way back home. That way, the ride there wouldn’t have been for nothing.

“Oh! There you are, little miss hunter.”

You turn around at the voice of one of the twins. “Luke, Kieran?”

“Mephisto told us you’d be here.” Kieran says pointing to the sky where Mephisto circles above the three of you.

“Is Sylus-”

Luke responds before you can finish your question, “The boss has a important business deal, but,”

“You’re more than welcome to stay with us in the meantime.” Kieran finishes the sentence as he opens the gate.

You can almost see the grin behind his mask.

“How long will he be gone?” You ask as you walk with the twins into the house.

“It might not even be until tomorrow that you’ll see the boss.”

“If you’re lucky--” Luke starts

“--I’ve checked your luck index today, miss, you’re not.”

“Kieran!” You smack him on the shoulder

“Anyway,” Luke starts again, “As I was saying, if you’re lucky, he might be done by midnight.”

…

Well now, it’s way past midnight and the boys have convinced you to play card games as you wait. From old maid, to kitty cards, to Big 2.

Eventually, they pull out another deck of cards with haphazardly drawn crows. - “We’ve invented our own version!”

Your brows furrow.

“Crow Cards!” They say in unison.

You’re speechless. You shake your head with a chuckle, but oblige them regardless.

It isn’t long before Kieran has passed out on the couch and you can tell that Luke isn’t too far either.

“Luke, why don’t we get you and your brother to sleep?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” He yawns and give you a nod, “but Kieran can sleep here on the floor.” He snorts, but goes to haul him up anyways.

“I can use one of the spare rooms, right?” You ask

“Of course. The boss has even gotten spare clothes specifically for you in every house. They should just be in the closet of the en suite.” He points to one of the doors, “That one is your room.”

It didn’t take very long after your head hit the pillows that you drifted off into a shallow sleep

Just as the sunlight begins peaking through the horizon, Sylus enters into the safehouse

Mephisto is cawing at him incessantly.

“What has you so worked up?” He frowns.

“CAW!”

Sylus walks through to the main area and sees cards strewn across the floor.

He examines them, seeing the poorly drawn crows, and looks to Mephisto, “What?” Sylus raises an eyebrow at Mephisto, “You led me here because Luke and Kieran made you look like roadkill on these cards?”

Mephisto shakes his head and pecks the cards out of Sylus’ hand. He pitter-patters to the door of the en suite and lightly pecks at it

Sylus’ frown deepens but he follows after him.

And there you were - laying on your stomach atop the sheets.

He lets out a small chuckle, “Tsk tsk, kitten,” he shakes his head, “You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

He gently turns you so he can lift you up into his arms.

With his Evol, he untucks the sheets and lays down with you in his arms.

You have your head on his chest and legs entangled with his own.

With all the movement, you lift your head blink your eyes open, “Hi.” You whisper.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, kitten.”

You plop your head back down onto his chest, “Yeah, I wanted-” you yawn, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? You’re asking me for a favour? How unusual.”

You only hum in response and close your eyes again.

For a moment, he thinks that seeing you in the sunrise makes the sunlight a little more bearable.

“What is it that you need, sweetie?” he asks, brushing his lips against the top of your head.

“The location of my mission is near this house.”

“And?” he shoots you a smug smile, “What is it exactly that you’re asking, Dove?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m asking if I can stay here for a little while.”

He chuckles and gently swipes at the space between your brows, “Do you know what you look like right now?” he asks, “A kitten with a temper.”

You untangle yourself from his grasp, “Screw you.”

It quite futile since you end up in his arms once more.

“What mission is so important that the hunter’s association would send you into the N109 zone?” He asks.

“One,” You put your pointer finger up, “It's near the N109 zone. And two,” You lift another finger, “Apparently, there’s some shady trading of high-grade protocores.”

“Hah, when is there not?” He chuckles.

You quickly brush his question aside, “But you’ll let me stay, won’t you?” You pout for good measure.

“I never trade for a loss, dove.” He taps a finger on his temple. “What are you planning to give me in exchange?”

“Um…” You contemplate on the question. “I'll trade any protocores I find that I think may be of use to you?” Your intonation makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

“What makes you think that I don’t already have access to such protocores, sweetheart?” He shifts to lay on his side with his head propped up by his arm.

That’s true. What could you possibly offer to a man who already has everything in the palm of his hand?

You glance up at him, “Well, then… truthfully, there’s nothing I can give you.”

I guess he won’t let me stay after all.

One of the corners of his lips tilt upwards into a smirk, “There is…” he pauses as he procures a piece of paper with his Evol, “Something you can give me.”

You take the paper and frown as you read the contents, “Isn’t this that restaurant by the river? The one with the orchids?”

“Mmm.” He hums in agreement.

“What could I possibly give you there, Sylus?” You ask

He chuckles, “Well, it’s quite simple, really.” He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I want you to stay with me… Until the moon is high above our heads”

His voice is so close to your ears that you have to turn away

“I want your time.”

A few days have gone by since your…encounter with Sylus.

Now you’re face-to-face with the owner of the club.

He has his hand grabbing the lower half of your face, turning it side to side.

You grit your teeth. Keep it together for the mission, MC. You say to yourself.

“She’ll fetch a hefty price from the clients, that’s for sure.” He chuckles

He almost throws you towards a woman who has a comb and spray bottle in hand.

“Another?” She asks

“Get her ready.” He says as he begins to walk towards the bar where the guests are, “I want her ready for service by the end of the week, Stella.”

The woman, Stella, as you’ve learned, rolls her eyes and grabs you by the arm.

She drags you across to one of the clothing racks and pulls various clothes up to your body. She takes some off, and others she returns.

Your eyes wander as you stay still, and for a brief moment, you see a blonde woman in a red dress, strutting towards the exit.

“Tenebra?” You mumble

“What?” Stella raises her brow.

“Huh? Oh, I was asking If I’ll need to wear a bra.” You gulp hoping she’ll believe your cover-up

She stares at you for a moment but then continues to find you a dress.

After a while, she’s finished with your make up and has given you a run-down of the rules.

“For tonight, you’ll be staying with me.” She says as she walks towards the exit

You scramble after her. You barely catch yourself from bumping into her as she abruptly turns around to address you.

“Keep close and don’t wander. Do you understand?”

You nod, “Yes.”

She wraps a red band across your wrist with ease, “This bracelet means that you’re off limits for the mean time.” She grips your wrist and squeezes, “So I suggest you keep it on your wrist even if your life depends on it. You won’t have this luxury for long.”

What have I gotten myself into?

You spend that night observing each and every one of the hostesses and clients.

Memorising faces, names, voices. Anything.

As the week ends, you’re back at the safe house trying to piece all the information you have so far.

You’re hunched over the coffee table with papers scattered about. Some of which you’ve scrunched up and have unintentionally made into Mephisto’s playthings.

You huff.

Everything looks normal, but clearly that’s not the case if HA has sent you here. They wouldn’t have sent you here if there wasn’t some concrete evidence of a covert operation.

Sylus stops cleaning his gun and smiles as you frown. The bastard.

You huff once more and rub your temples.

“You look as if you’re going into a grand battle.” He chuckles and leans back into the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere!” You throw your hands into the air.

He carefully returns the gun to it’s case and settles himself on the floor next to you, “Talk to me.” He pulls the pen from your hands and spreads the papers across the table, “We can figure it out together.” He glances at you with the smallest of smiles.

A couple of weeks have gone by and you’ve gotten better at acting as a hostess.

You find that a lot of these clients have a very loose lips - ever so willing to give information with so little incentive

Today, you’re cozied up with a client, your legs in their lap, and an arm wrapped around one of theirs.

You grin internally as he continues to talk about all the protocores he could offer you.

“Oh?” You say sultrily, drawing circles on his arm.

YUCK

“Oh, I do, baby.”

EUUUGHHH

You’re trying your best to suppress a scowl.

“I could give you all -”

You glance up at him as he stops mid-sentence.

Your gaze shifts from his face to the mirror behind him where your eyes meet Sylus’s intense gaze.

What is he going here?

Sylus nonchalantly walks over to the two of you and the room has gone still.

“And who might this be, sweetie?” He glowers at the man, but his question is directed to you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the man beat you to it, “Mr Sylus, I’m-”

"I didn’t ask you.” He says sharply.

“Sylus, what are you doing here?” Your grip around the man loosens and you quickly shift your legs to plant your heels on the floor.

“Well… Sweetie.” He emphasises the endearment as he pulls you from the other man’s lap, “I’m here for you,” He pulls you to his chest

Without another word, he tugs you into one of the private rooms.

With the momentum, you fall to the loveseat in the middle of the room.

“Sylus!”

“When you said you had a mission here, I assumed you were going in as a client.” He locks the door and makes his way to you, “Not a hostess.” He narrows his eyes as he traps you between his outstretched arms on the loveseat.

“Why does it matter?” You glare back at him, “I’m still getting the information I need.”

“You realise that I could get you all that information in the blink of an eye, right?”

You know that. You do. He never lets you forget. Head of Onychinus. King of the N109 zone.

But what does that say about you?

Always relying on someone else to do things.

Always relying on Xavier on missions. Even Rafayel helped you at The Nest. Zayne’s always taking care of your health, and now Sylus, too.

When had you ever truly done anything yourself?

You grit your teeth, “Look.” You say as you muster up all your courage to glare at him, “I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.” You push at his chest, “I can do this on my own.”

He yields as you push him until both of you are standing.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,” You say.

Tenebra - the word plants itself at the forefront of your mind

His chest heaves as he looks at you, but he doesn’t speak.

“What am I supposed to say to the association?” You walk towards the door but look back at him with a soft smile, “They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember? We can’t have that now, can we?”

He takes a hold of your wrist. “You know I’d never let that happen.”

“Mmm.” You shake your head, “I know, but even then… I want to be able to proudly say that I was able to do a mission with my own strength.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you shrug your hand away from his hold.

“So,” You place you hand on the door knob, “Let me do this on my own, Sylus.”

As you leave, he deflates onto the loveseat with a sigh.

As much as it stings that you don’t want to rely on him, he understands what you’re trying to say.

You’ve gone many days without seeing Sylus, not even at the safe house.

At the host club, you return to your dressing room with the brightest smile, you’d think your face would split in half.

That drunk client spilled all the beans. They are smuggling protocores through this host club. He mentioned a warehouse south from here, in the no hunt zone. Luckily Jenna authorised your entry into that zone. You’ll have to check it out after you leave the club.

As you exit, your watch beeps, “Huh? Wanderers? This far from the no hunt zone?”

Your hands settle at the hilts of your hands guns strapped to either thigh.

With vigilant eyes, you scan your surroundings. Trees upon trees in every direction.

Taking soft and steady steps, you head deeper into the no hunt zone.

Eventually you see lights scattered throughout the tree line.

There’s a large building stood in the centre of the clearing.

As you walk closer, you hear voices. “The warehouse.” you whisper.

Then a truck whizzes past and you duck for fear of getting caught.

It drives far into the warehouse and you follow around to get a clearer view.

They seem like specs from this distance, but they’re unloading the protocores from the truck.

The impatient part of you screams to just sneak into the warehouse.

But that fire is quickly extinguished when you notice a few men patrolling the warehouse.

“I need to come back another time. With a plan.”

The next few days you observe the schedules and their protocol for receiving deliveries

You manage to sneak your way into one of the trucks as your shift ends at the host club.

In the truck, you’re shallowly breathing from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You close your eyes to take a deep breath as the truck slows to a stop.

“This is the last one for today, boys. Let’s do this quick!” You hear a man shout.

Your hand comes up to press at your sternum. Your heart is beating right out of your chest so much so that blood is thumping in your ears.

“You think we’ve got some aether cores to sell today?”

“Tch, I wish.”

As their footsteps grow louder, you take a slow breath-

BEEP BEEP!

You gasp as your hunter’s watch detects wanderers nearby. You grasp at your wrist to dampen the noise. Hunching over, cradling your arm as it beeps again.

STOP! Please!

“What was that?”

What do I do? I’m going to get caught.

“Check it out.”

Think. Think.

From their footsteps, you can tell one of the men has walked into the truck.

THINK!

You don’t have a choice.

With a grunt, you charge at the man, shooting him in the chest, before hauling his body to cover yours as you exit the vehicle.

“INTRUDER!” the other man yells. “INTRUDER! LOCK EVERYTHING DOWN.”

Sirens blare as shots are fired in your direction. One lodges itself into your thigh. With a scream you dump the body shield and limp as best as you can out of the crossfire.

Another shot whizzes past the side of your arm. Another into your lower abdomen as you turn to shoot at them.

Before you make it to the forest, a loud roar shakes the ground and you stumble onto all fours.

A wanderer. A Hoarfrost Wyrmlord, you recognise.

It stomps it’s way towards the warehouse, likely drawn in by all the noise.

You scramble away as best as you can, but behind you are the men from the warehouse.

Your breaths have become rapid and shallow, “Where…”

The Wyrmlord locks onto you, blowing out gusts of air from it’s nostrils.

You begin shooting at the Wyrmlord but it looks unphased.

You duck for cover as it shoot icicles your way.

Protocores. You think. “You must have a shield somewhere.” you say as you peak over the metal pillar.

“You!” A foreign voice takes your attention.

The man has his gun pointed to you.

Swiftly, you kick your leg out in an attempt to disarm him, but he catches it and kicks at your other leg so that you land face first into the dirt.

For a few moments, you wrestle him until he’s got you in a choke hold.

You elbow him in his side and as his grip loosens you try to swing him over your shoulder.

But he uses the momentum to kick off of the pillar, and the action flings you backwards, and your back hits the ground with a thud.

You grunt and struggle to stand.

Before you can shoot him, a Harte Knave slashes through him.

Just as quickly, your bullets pierce though the Harte Knave and it disintegrates in dust.

Another roar shakes the ground as you and many others are pulled into a protofield.

“No!” You scream.

“Sylus!” You yell into the air.

Hoping, praying that he just might appear out of thin air.

...

“CAW!”

Meanwhile, Sylus is seated in another safehouse.

His leg is bouncing up and down.

You should have returned to the safe house hours ago, but there has been no notification of your arrival from the security system.

For every centimetre the moon rose into the sky, so did his worry.

“I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.”

Your words echoed around in his mind for the past few hours.

“I can do this on my own.”

He knows that. You’re strong. He’s seen it.

“They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember?“

Tch.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,”

But something was wrong.

His intuition never failed him.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Mephisto.” Sylus quickly stands and stretches his hand out for Mephisto to land on.

A holographic video pops up and Sylus sees you dropping the lifeless body and limping away into the tree line.

The screen flickers for a moment as you scream his name before you disappear into the protofield.

Even before the video ends, Sylus is rushing out to his motorcycle. He pulls up the coordinates from Mephisto’s previous location history and speeds away.

Why did I leave her by herself? Near the N109 zone nonetheless. I’m a fool.

In the protofield, the Wyrmlord is the last wanderer.

There are only a few other humans left and luckily, the Wyrmlord is beginning to stagger too.

You’ve managed to break it’s shields but you’re heavily wounded and the Wyrmlord has caused the temperature to drop so rapidly that it’s difficult to even pull the trigger.

Sylus… Please…

You know he can’t just appear into a protofield. But somehow his name on your lips gives you enough strength to continue the fight.

Out of desperation, you’ve managed to resonate with some of the Evolvers.

And with great effort, you and another Evolver deal the final blow to the Wyrmlord and you’re transported back to the warehouse.

Sirens are still blaring and the edges of your vision are fading.

“Sylus.” You whisper walking away from the warehouse.

You grunt as you slump against a sturdy tree.

The shards of ice that were lodged into your stomach have vanished along with the protofield and now your blood has begun to soak through your clothing.

With a few harsh tugs, you rip your sleeve off and press it against your wounds.

Everything hurts, but you try to slow your breathing.

Your watch beeps once more.

The adrenaline causes you to perk up at the thought of more wanderers.

WARNING! Critically low blood pressure - severe blood loss. Coordinates have been sent to the nearest Hunter’s Association field lab.

When you wake next, the room is too bright for your eyes to adjust.

You blink and raise a hand to your face to block the light.

Glancing around, you notice it’s like any other bedroom.

You groan as you sit up.

Looking down at yourself, you see the faint outline of multiple gauze pads from underneath your top.

You limp out of the room, using the wall to take most of your weight.

You flinch as you feel a tap on your shoulder, hands immediately going to where your guns would have been.

“Relax, Kitten.” Sylus says, with both his hands up in the air, “I’m just trying to help you.” He begins to lower his hands.

“Sylus…” You croak from the dryness of your throat.

You could do nothing but stare. Was this real?

You were hyperventilating a little, and he’s never really seen you so high-strung.

“You’re safe.” He says as he slowly cups the side of your face.

“Sylus… I…”

He lowers his forehead to yours and you visibly relax.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart.” He repeats the phrase as he gathers you into his chest.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He whispers. “Never again.”

I told you it was long XD. I had fun though. If you guys like it, I don't mind fully fleshing this out into chapters. I really enjoyed writing this one actually.

-Seven

[cerastes]

I think some people need to hear this, so I want to say it.

The moment you start taking something seriously, that moment you decide “I’m going to improve at this, I’m going to become better at this”, you become slightly worse at it. This applies to everything: Art, games, sports, analysis, research, anything. You become slightly worse at it because you are actually thinking about it.

For most things, most people tend to run on autopilot, not particularly thinking too much and getting it over with or just enjoying it in the moment. When you really want to improve at something, though, you become slower and a bit worse at it, because now you are thinking about it, you are noticing things, you are making conscious decisions that are not as fast or as spontaneous or as natural as you just simply doing it. Now you’re performing, or attempting to.

This isn’t a bad thing.

It’s because of this period of temporary perceived weakness that we improve. That which we analyze, mull over, think hard about it, we start internalizing it, and the more we internalize something, the better we become, because that now becomes a part of our autopiloting, if that makes sense to you. Slowly but surely, that thing you really needed to focus on to do properly now just comes naturally, and now you have a much better skillset without thinking about it.

And what happens after? Since you became better, you also understand more, and can notice more things, more things that those really good at the thing do, more things that you were doing wrong all along, and can now identify it was bad and that you have to correct it, and now you have more things to think about and internalize. The cycle repeats. You become better through periods of being worse. 

It’s a cruel balance.

Ask any illustrator or writer: First comes the honeymoon period where they are improving by leaps and bounds with experimentation, thought, and exercise. Then comes the downs. “Oh I am so god damn bad at drawing”. “I can’t write to save my life”. Why? Because the artist learns, and they can see things they couldn’t before, and now they see their improvement, but they also see their flaws. It is at these crossroads where the artist will ask themselves, “do I dare go through this period of self-admonishment, or do I go back to the comfy laurels?” The comfy laurels are stagnant, they never stop blooming, but they only bloom once. The self-admonishment is a harsh self-imposed winter, but the flowers that grow after it passes bloom several times, and as the snow clears, yet another crossroad stands before you, and we go back to the same question once more.

It’s a beautiful balance.

Where I am going with this is, if you find your commitment to something has instead made it harder, has made you sluggish, has made you see perhaps too much for your own comfort: Hang in there. These are growing pains. You need these, and they aren’t wonderful to go through and good lord do they weigh heavily on you... Why? Because you care. That’s why you’ll improve. Hang in there.

It’s a necessary balance.

Hang in there. You’ll improve so much. You’ll be incredible, and then go on to agonize hundreds of times more and improve thousands of times more. Hang in there. If it was easy to improve, then there wouldn’t be merit to it. It’s hard because it matters, it’s difficult because you care. If you didn’t care, you’d be blind to hardship, but to so many beautiful things you can only experience after you’ve sought adversity. In the end, the rest follows, but only if you follow through.

Hang in there. You are getting better.

[innerfare]

Smutty Captain Kid Headcanons - Part 2 

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Captain Kid

Genre: Smut

CW: oral sex, dirty talk, mean dom Kid, spanking, biting, spitting, rough sex, unsafe sex, Kid might be a bit toxic, threesomes

———

Gets a little too turned on if you flip him off during sex. The first time you did it, he was fucking you from behind and goading you like he usually does; unable to talk you flipped him the bird, and he came almost instantly. Is there a such thing as a middle finger kink? Because if so, he has it.

Super into sexy costumes. French maid, innocent bunny, cute sailor girl, the Gol D. Roger costume you customized to be comically inappropriate. Aside from costumes, leopard print lingerie is his favorite. 

Sounds like a feral animal when he goes down on you. Prefers to do it from behind because it seems to make you even more vulnerable. Has eaten you out on the deck of the Victoria Punk, you clinging to the wheel and keeping a lookout for any crew members, Kid shoving a finger up your ass. Eats ass, too. His favorite is the way you gasp and whine when he spits on you to lube you up. Definitely spanks you while he goes down on you, both ass and tits, and squeezes your thighs like he’s trying to rip the skin open. 

Most nights the two of you are together, it sounds like there’s a rabid dog loose in his cabin. The crew has come to accept this. 

Never leaves your nipples alone. Pinches them, squeezes them, flicks them, bites them. You had to set boundaries re: your nipples because they were raw all the time. 

Wants to hurt you, but also wants you to hurt him. Will grab your face in his massive hand and squeeze until you slap him, will spit in your mouth and swallow when you spit back, will bite the ever-loving crap out of your neck (like actually chomp down on you, no such thing as sweet little love bites), laughs like a mad man if you rake your nails down his chest and draw blood (bonus points for hurting his nipples), never smacks your ass less than ten times, will cum immediately if you try to bite his ear off. 

If you show even a hint of dissatisfaction after the deed is done, he’s back on top of you in an instant pounding away. 

Is the absolute worst about birth control. Complains incessantly if you make him wear condoms, usually because they’re ‘too small’ and cramp his style, claims he has a latex allergy and condoms give him a rash (literally not true). Annoyed by his whining, you try the pull out method, only to find he’s even worse about that. “But it feels so good.” “I don’t want to pull out.” “Why should I even bother? We both want me to cum inside of you, anyway.” “Stop complaining.” “I didn’t become a pirate to follow rules, y/n.” He does genuinely try to pull out, but he’s so bad at it. You have no choice but to get on some form of pill before you have a little red-haired menace running around. 

Once you do get on that pill, you never don’t have his cum inside you. He cums a cartoonish amount, too, and by the time you’re cleaned out, he’s mounting you again. 

Believes in kissing and telling. In particular, he wants you telling. He wants you getting drunk and telling the bar that his balls are the size of a bull’s. He wants you telling the crew you’re taking it easy because you got dicked down the night before and you’re sore as a motherfucker. He wants you tearing apart the infirmary for bruise cream, loudly announcing it’s because Kid can’t just make love sweetly but has to ride you like an animal every night. 

Loves fucking you out in the open. Usually it's on the deck of the Victoria Punk. Has also fucked you in an alleyway outside a tavern before.

Really loves the idea of a threesome but is far too jealous of a lover to make it work. If you like girls, he’s obsessed with the idea of you being dominated by one. Also enjoys letting other people watch, especially men (strict no touching rule); he wants to show off his prowess. 

That being said, Killer is the exception. Kid is more than happy to switch off with Killer, the two of them tag teaming you until you just can’t take anymore. Killer can even fuck you when Kid’s not there to oversee.

Is secretly a sweet little boy, and it shows in after care. Calls you all sorts of sweet nicknames when you’re in his big arms afterward, but says them quietly in your ear. Tells you that if you disappeared, he would tear the world apart looking for you, and if you died, he would set the world on fire. And he’s just crazy enough to mean it.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[pettyprocrastination]

Two Phantoms

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Summary: Simon sees a familiar face that doesn’t recognize him back. Kid!fic warning for those who do not enjoy them. 

Warning: nothing explicit but vague descriptions of violence, sex, and PTSD.

Word count: 1.2k

Authors note: This is purely a word vomit i did last night at 2am while thinking about Simon not being recognized by certain members of the 141 since they dont know what he actually looks like (ignoring the MW2 canon where he shows his face to them all) but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

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     There’s a struggle in the shift. Going from being Lieutenant of the 141 to being a civilian. From hunting down arms dealers through rain forests and balmy deserts while ignoring the pain in his body and ringing in his ears at the gunfire around him to stepping off of a plane at the Manchester airport and hailing a taxi. To go from a masked monster to a man who hails a taxi in the pouring rain and ignores the driver’s attempt at conversation, shoulders curling in so he can fit his bulk into the backseat with his bag on his lap.

     Going from Ghost to what remains of Simon Riley. 

     There’s no reason to wear a mask in public anymore. Nobody knows him. The spot he’s picked an apartment in is empty of those who remember little Simon and his brother Tommy, nor the tragedy that befell the family. They only know the man who doesn’t speak and only stays in his own apartment every few months but offers his neighbors a terse nod each time he catches their gaze in the hall. 

     If anything a mask would draw more attention to him in public. Nobody bats an eye at the tall man with dark eyes in the fruit aisle of the supermarket.

     Which is why when you see your Lieutenant in public you walk right by him without a second glance in his direction while he remains frozen in place. He isn’t sure why it's shocking to him. You get leave just the same as him. You have a home to return to, a life outside of the blood and shit of the missions where you take his orders with ease, where you leave your fatigues to wear a comfortable pair of jeans and a hoodie with a bleach stain on the back.

       Simon hasn’t seen it before. He knows it exists. That you exist outside of the 141, outside of him. A place where you don’t follow his command in the heat of gunfire and slip into his cot the night after when neither of you can sleep to find solace in each others arms and the marks he leaves on you. 

     But now he’s witnessed it with his own two eyes. In the form of two boxes of pancake mix in your shopping trolley and the sleeping baby in your arms as you try to decide between orange juice brands.

     “Quality is going to shit everywhere, isn’t it bubs?” 

     Simon is staring. He knows it but can’t look away. 

     It’s a duality he knows everybody has. He’s aware that Johnny goes home to Glasgow to visit his brother and gaggle of nieces and nephews that no doubt shriek with joy and hang of his arms every time he visits, asking a myriad of questions that the man answers with patience and kindness one only reserves for children. He knows that Gaz goes home to a small apartment and a girl two semesters away from getting her masters in psychology that Simon doesn’t know the name of but can tell from the way he tries to hide his smile that she’s important to him. Price goes back to an office where he goes over reports and budget plans in a chair that makes his back ache and knees pop every time he stands from it before driving to a house that was once filled with the raucous that can only be made by 15 year old boys that have since graduated college and only call him when its Christmas or his birthday. 

     It’s different to see. To set his eyes on the little curls on your child's head (is it your child? Maybe you're babysitting, a godchild perhaps? Nephew? He knows you aren’t married. There’s an absence of a wedding band nor the tan line that would come from the removal of one in all the years he’s known you.) and to witness the same hand he’s seen sink KA-Bar into the chest of an enemy move up and down, up and down on the little ones back while their fingers curled and uncurled into the fabric of your hoodie like a cat kneading a pillow. 

     Logic knocks in the back of his head when he realizes time has passed since he first saw you. And that if you didn’t recognize him then you definitely won’t recognize him when you turn around and realize he’s been staring at you and your baby without moving for a solid seven minutes in the middle of the juice aisle. 

     Just as his foot shifts to turn and pull him away from this peek into your life that he didn't know existed,  the little one in your arm stirs. A soft whine curls in the back of their throat as their chubby face scrunches up and eyes crack open to latch onto the man watching them back. 

     You still haven’t noticed him. You're far too busy swaying from side to side to keep the baby in your arms calm and checking a carton of eggs for cracks to see the man behind you that is now locked into what feels like a staring contest with an infant. 

     “It’s alright Sam.” Your voice, even when talking to a baby, has a dry clip to it that he knows so well. The same curl in ‘sir’ when he’s pissed you off and the rasp of your laugh at a dingey bar under Soap’s arm. “I’m almost done, okay? Then we can go back home and take a nice long nap.” 

     Sam babbles behind his pacifier and wiggles in your arms. 

     “Yeah, you and me both, little man.” 

     Brown eyes stare into his own from over your shoulder without shame or abandon. 

     He looks like you. 

     But even without your fatigues and your weapon, you’re still a soldier. They all are. 

     You feel it, his eyes on you like a soft tug in the back of your head. Your sister calls it paranoia, her husband says PTSD. 

     You aren’t sure which is better. But when you turn around you see a man standing behind you, an empty basket in his hand and sad eyes sinking into your form. 

     Sam whines. 

     You can feel the thread of recognition between your fingertips as you look at him if only for a moment, a split second of staring into his eyes and grasping for some memory from high school or perhaps a date years passed that never turned into a second because you were overseas, just barely able to feel the fraying strings in your hand before its gone. 

     “Sorry-” 

     Your sister says you get stuck in your own head too much anyways. 

     “-Didn’t mean to block the aisle.” 

     He should say something. Some small reassurance that it’s no problem or he didn’t mind waiting, but he just nods his head once and watches as the woman he’s been through hell with walks away from him without a flicker of realization of who you're talking to. 

     Sam watches him over your shoulder and raises one little hand out toward him, before wiggling it back and forth in goodbye. 

     Simon waves back as you turn into the cleaning aisle and vanish from his line of sight.