#you know to put at least a little bit of originality in there

[py-dreamer]

Yea!!! Can you tell I have favorites lol

so since it's the 20th in my time, it is officially my birthday today!

But I wanted to get this out regardless so kinda count it as the previous day's ig

I will be posting something later today probably but it will most likely just be a compilation of all the cakes I've done thus far.

Ok but um on with the cake!

It's like a cheesecake and I basically copied Tengen's cake with like a jelly filling with fruit suspended in it, peaches (obviously), strawberries and blueberries cause I like them and sod it I'll put them on this goddamn cake!

The thing Wukong's sitting on is one of those peach ice creams that's gotten so popular lately with the sprinkle of pink dust thingy on top.

On either side of the cake is the fillet from the journey and the hat from the brotherhood era, one from his reckless past and one from his redemption and I just think that's neat.

The blue puffy stuff is meant to be his nimbus clouds represented as cotton candy.

I have the baiju jar in there as reference to Wukong becoming immortal again due to the all the wine made from the peaches of immortality at the festival.

The staff as a little candle was so fun! And I like pocky so I chucked them on there to fill space and it looks good so sue me

The grey thing behind the staff and balloon is meant to be the Buddha's hand that trapped him under the mountain and a reference to his imprisonment under 5 phases mountain.

Peach popsicle! Of course I had too! A lil something from the present for our (shadow) peachy friend

Mk's stone as well, had to add his son in there too. The baby ever.

(probably just a cookie but it's the thought that counts)

The two sugar cookies are meant to be his logo (aka the lmk logo) and fireworks, again taken from Tengen's cake.

The sun is a candied/tanghulu esque orange thing. Like an orange slice coated in yellow melted sugar shaped like a sun and the phoenix feather cap since I consider it iconic enough to put in here. I didn't want to put it on him, blocking a lot of the decorations so I just hung it to the side and I think I'm happy with that.

A lot more monkeys here! It was very fun popping them in! I know I only gave Mac 1 but I mean Wukong's the monkey king for a reason. Let him be a loving grandpa and invite his subjects on the cake with him. He granted them immortality by ripping their names out the book of dead, let them have a place on the cake too

Also, yes that is the origami pilgims in the bottom left, I couldn't leave them alone could I?

Now the elephant in the room (or at least in my head), yes I did use @maplesleep's matcha pancake design for flower fruit mountain.

Cake on cake. Bit much but hey, I like cake and pastries better than candy normally so win for me.

And I couldn't just make cake about Sun Wukong without mentioning his home/origins of ffm. I do genuinely love the inginuity and adorableness factor of the pancake design and hope they don't mind me slapping it on my...cheesecake? Jelly cake? Jelly-cheesecake?

(also I have to ask @maplesleep, did you watch the 3rd emirichu anime cafe video, specifically the urusei yatsura cafe as inspiration for the 'sun wukong's strawberry sponge cake punishment' parfait thingy, gorgeously drawn btw I used those drawings as inspiration quite a bit for these cakes, or saw the urusei yatsura collab anime cafe

cause I couldn't help but notice the similarities between that and the 'shinobu's maiden strength parfait' cause if you didn't that be a pretty funny coincidence lol)

So what do you think? You think I could make it as another lmk food chef for lego? Can I join the club lmao?

I do realize in retrospect the disrespect I did Mk by making his cake so plain by comparison to his mentor's. But I think that's a testament to my improvement and attention to detail when making these cakes as the days have progressed!

I consider Mk's in particular to be the most lacking and I lowkey feel so bad for my boi for not giving him the main character status he deserves.

I might draw him again, idk. Not anytime soon though, like I said, I'm quite busy now more than before and I need a break, still glad I could serve y'all another slice of cake though!

[ratguy-nico]

this is a little bit censored XD

I want to keep the surprise

This is of course for @boblinweek and I'm actually using this amazing event as a kinda excuse to make this drawing (sorry babs)

This drawing if you recognize is a remake (re do? do it in your style?) of one of my favorite and one of the first drawings I saw when I entered the fandom

sadly cause of the quality I don't know whose drawing this is, but I love it

I've always wanted to re draw it so Idecided to go for it, though I just been doing like the first half, cause you know, I'm lazy and pretty slow at drawing 😅

[deviousdiesel]

.

[sistertotheknowitall]

“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”

“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.

It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.

It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.

Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.

At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.

(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)

But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.

The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)

On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)

Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)

Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.

[eelhound]

"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:

If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.

'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?

This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).

But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."

- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[pyrriax]

this fucking SONG has such a grip on me. why am i genuinely crying bc of this song. (i blame the scene[s] i associate it with)

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, thank you for being there when our fathers weren’t 🙏🙏

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: The higher ups decided that the BAU needed their own reception area so that visitors and the agents had their own friendly face whenever they come back from a case. Hotch already has a soft spot for her.

Word Count: 741

Warnings: just a little fluff for my first Hotch fic, because receptionist!reader and Hotch makes me feral

Part 2!!

When they first told her that she’d be moved from the normal reception to a special one being made for her up in the BAU, she thought that she’d been sent a spam email. Laughing it off and getting back to her baking.

Until her boss escorted her up to her new desk the next morning.

Thankfully, all her belongings had been boxed up by other staff, and had already been moved up in boxes for her to unpack. 

Her days were long, and she was routinely one of the first people in the building, which meant she had more than enough time to sort through her boxes before any of the actual team turned up for the first time.

Apparently they’d had a few issues with people getting in that weren’t the most savoury of characters. So she was moved up as an extra layer of protection before the public were allowed into the bullpen. But being on the same floor as profilers wasn’t going to stop her from decorating as she always had.

Besides, she didn’t have to share this desk with anyone, so she got the entire space to decorate herself.

Putting her box of biscuits, made and decorated the night before, on the top of the desk, she got to work. Getting into her own little world as she sorted out the boring bits first. Putting away important files she always needed to have on hand, and setting up the monitor to make sure all the information worked to let people in.

Eventually, thankfully, she got to the more fun aspects of her unpacking.

A lilac notebook, a collection of glittery pens (that, sadly, still had to be black ink), a sweet bowl since she knows how many agents have kids, and a plush lilac blanket over the back of her chair. She runs cold, and will have that over her lap if she starts to freeze.

Just as she started to unload her pretty, pastel post-it notes, there was a voice from beyond the desk.

“Are these for us?”

She shot up, hand going to her chest, thankfully also somewhat startling the man in front of her desk. At least she recognised him, SSA Aaron Hotchner, she’d been the one to sign him in most days when she worked downstairs.

Giving him a small smile as she leant over to pop the lid, the smell of shortbread biscuits immediately hitting the area and making them both hungry.

“Of course, sir, and since you’re the first here, you can have two.”

Her original shock lessened as she smiled up at the man, who did immediately take two biscuits for himself. He’d never say no to her baking again - it had made her upset and she hadn’t spoken to him for three days.

“You don’t need to call me sir, not now we work together. It’s good to have you on the floor.”

“It’s good to be here.” Smiling nervously as she shifted into her chair, the clock telling her that more people were going to start coming in soon. “I can only deal with Maria’s constant bad date stories before I go mad.”

There was that small smile on his face, one she’d seen very few times, but still made her all warm and gooey whenever she did. Brushing her hair back behind her ear and glancing away to boot up the monitor for the morning.

Looking back at him one last time, just to catch him sneaking a sweet from the pot, not even stopping when she caught him. Shoving it into his pocket and stepping away a little.

“I’ll stop by later on, make sure you’re settled.”

He nodded, as if he’d do that for anyone else, and she smiled. God. He could drown in her smile.

But as he went to walk off, she waved a hand for his attention, neither of them noticing Spencer coming through the elevator doors, freezing at seeing the interaction between them. Not sure what to make of the smile on his Unit Chief's face.

“I’ll save a biscuit, so you can take one home to Jack. I’ll sign you in, go on, you workaholic.”

Accepting and returning his little wave until she turned back to her desk with a stupidly daft smile on her face. Which she didn’t even try to dampen when she spotted Spencer, beckoning him forward.

“Morning Doctor, have a biscuit, I’ll sign you in.”

Want more?! Good!

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Sunghoon

doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.

Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.

Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.

Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed. 

Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.

You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.

Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.

That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.

As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.

Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness. 

At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.

Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung. 

From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.

But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.

Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.

You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.

You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.

As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.

With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.

It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?

Beside Jaeyun, of course. 

When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.

Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.

Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.

Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.

“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.

Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.

However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up. 

As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?

You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.

You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.

Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.

Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library. 

“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.

Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.

With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.

But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration. 

"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.

Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.

As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind. 

But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest. 

What is that? 

Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.

Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.

Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.

“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.

In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.

Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear. 

But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.

Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.

As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?

"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.

Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.

His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.

"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.

You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.

With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.

Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway. 

Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.

Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from. 

But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.

You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones. 

Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers. 

As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.

Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.

Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.

Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.

Flash.

As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.

Something is…different.

You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.

The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.

Sunghoon.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt. 

“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.

As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.

Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.

Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”

Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

“No, I…I just thought…I was…”

“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.

He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation. 

“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.

Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.

Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.

He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”

You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?

Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."

You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling. 

Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,”  he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”

You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation. 

Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."

His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.

While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.

Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."

Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.

Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.

"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.

Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.

"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.

His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.

Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.

Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.

You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.

"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.

Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.

He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.

“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”

His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence. 

You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.

Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.

"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.

You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.

You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring. 

Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."

The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.

He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.

His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge. 

Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.

But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.

Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.

"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."

As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.

Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."

His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.

"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.

"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.

"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."

You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.

"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.

You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.

You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.

Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.

Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.

You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.

You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.

In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.

Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.

"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.

As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.

"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly. 

But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.

Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.

Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.

"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.

"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.

You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.

As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."

He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.

Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."

His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.

Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.

"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.

His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.

"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.

Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.

You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.

"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.

"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."

“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.

Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing. 

As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.

You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.

You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.

“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.

Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.

“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.

“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.

There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."

Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”

His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.

You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

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

[mypoisonedvine]

Virgin! Eddie talking big game but as soon as you even put the tip in he becomes a whimpering pussy drunk baby

"Baby," he panted, digging his fingers into your thighs, "baby baby baby-- slow down, fuck--"

"Slow down? Eddie, I've barely got the tip in," you noticed with a laugh, struggling a little to hold yourself up above his lap at this angle for much longer than you'd originally planned-- you'd been so excited to slide down and feel him balls deep inside you--

"I know, fuck, but m'so close already," he whined, "you're so... warm."

"Sorry, but I'm really not the patient type," you grinned as you plunged yourself down-- and your smile fell to a gasp as he filled you to the brim.

"Oh fuck!" he moaned, head falling back. "O-oh, god-- so fuckin' perfect..."

He watched you ride him for a few moments, but he couldn't keep his cool any longer when you balanced yourself on his chest and started to really fuck yourself on his cock.

"Baby, m'gonna-- oh, fuck, get off--"

You bit your lip and shook your head. "Mm-mm, want it inside," you cooed. "And I'm not gonna stop until I come."

"Sh-shit, baby, you might kill me," he whined. "Please-- will you at least slow down?"

Laughing, you replied, "already told you once I don't know how to slow down. Especially not when your cock feels so good--"

"Fuck!" he shouted as he came, moaning loudly and fucking up into you for a few weak thrusts. Of course, he was completely jelly beneath you when you kept riding, ignoring that he looked like he'd been fucking possessed with how his eyes rolled back. "God, b-baby, please-- please--!"

You couldn't tell if he was begging you to stop or keep going, but you did the second one anyways, desperate for your own release and knowing it wouldn't take much longer if he kept looking so adorably wrecked under you. "Don't you wanna make me come, Eddie?" you mocked. "You kept saying you'd rock my world-- takes at least a couple minutes to do that, don't you think?"

But he wasn't exactly... capable of responding to that, he was whining so loud you could barely hear yourself talk.

"Just stay still, Ed, I'll do all the hard work for you... just try not to pass out."

[jasmines-library]

Remus Lupin whose sense of smell heightens around the full moon. You come to him and you’re stinking of Sirius. Obviously, he’s really jealous, especially around this time, and he’s clutching you to his side, rubbing his scent all over you, basically claiming his territory.

Lunar Possession

(Art not mine, found on Pinterest. Cred to original owner)

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Note: When I say I dropped EVERYTHING the second this came into my inbox...

Warnings: Pre-full moon remus angst, possessive-ish (?) remus

Word Count: 1.7k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

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Remus Lupin was not in a good mood. He was antsy. With the full moon so close, everything put him on edge: His ears seemed to twitch at the smallest shift in the floorboards and his nose seemed to smell every person that passed his dormitory door on their way to and from the common room. It made his stomach churn, like a boat being tossed about on the sea. It made his head pound in a steady rhythm that made it hard to focus on anything else beside the tedious beat. It was followed by a tightness too; pressing harshly against his temples. 

Remus thought he should be used to it by now. He had been dealing with the effects of the full moon for practically as long as he could remember, but he would never truly get used to it. Having you and Sirius by his side always helped though. Remus wouldn’t ever dare admit it out loud, he spent far too much time trying to convince the two of you that he was dangerous and not to be trusted, but you and Sirius calmed his nerves. You made the transformation just that bit more bearable.

He would forever remember the day that you revealed your animagus form to him. Remus could hardly find the words to express how he felt. Never before in his life had he had someone care for him the way that you and Sirius did. James too. He was scared at first,  Remus didn’t know how his friends were going to react when he told them about his lycanthropy. Almost certainly he had expected you to run and to never speak to him again. But that night you did the opposite and held him close. And Remus had never felt more loved and accepted. Now, of course he was cautious at first. Angry. Scared. But slowly the three of you had talked him into realising it was a good idea: He was coming home after each transformation with fewer injuries and seemed to be managing much easier with your help. Of course, seeing the scratches and cuts appear on his friends bodies each night made him grimace and try to convince you to stop. He was supposed to protect you and, instead, he was allowing you to get hurt. But you stayed. And Remus was impossibly grateful for that. 

Remus groaned as another ache shot through his body, and he turned tugging the blanket closer to him. The moon made him feel the need to hold you close all of the time. He yearned for the smell of your shampoo and the coolness of your skin flush against his. When the moon made him get like this Remus often found himself missing class. All of the people just made his nerves sizzle. Unfortunately, your boyfriend's condition did not mean that you also got a free pass to skip class. Or Sirius for that matter. So, instead of having you close, Remus lay curled up in his bed as his bones ached, waiting antagonisingly for you to return. 

When you finally pushed the door open quietly as to stop it creaking, you were clinging onto Sirius’ arm. You arm was looped between his and you leaned your head against the crook of his shoulder. The two of you had been like that all day, he could tell. 

You and Sirius had had a busy day to say the least. Not only had potions class run over, but you also had homework that you needed to catch up on during your lunch break. Not that you actually got much done with Sirius around. Sirius was an observer. He could tell from the way you held your shoulders higher than usual and walked with heavier steps that you were stressed. So he did all he could to help you relax a little. Knowing that you were also worried about your boyfriend, he placed gentle kisses to your forehead whilst you worked, or stole them from your lips in the corridor. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest to try and expel the tension from your body. Your boyfriend's efforts seemed to have helped because by the time the bell finally rang and the doors spilled open to reveal the flood of students, you were feeling much better. Especially because you could now fill the empty space that Remus’ absence had created. 

“Rem?” Your voice was quiet and tender, near a whisper in case he was asleep, or was finding everything too loud.

He peeked his head out from under the blanket, his hair tousled from hours of restlessness. You smiled at him brightly. It was enough for him to return it, and lift his sour mood.

“Hey, Dove.” he greeted, shuffling out of bed to greet you. He couldn’t help but eye his boyfriend who stood with his hand placed tenderly on your lower back. Remus’ fingers twitched. “Good day?”

You hummed, slipping off your shoes and making your way over him to wrap him up in your embrace. You knew it had likely been a tough day for him. “Better now you’re here.”

As you took another step closer to him and away from Sirius the tender moment between the two of you was interrupted. At first, Remus had thought it was because he was standing right next to you. That his nose was getting confused, another side effect of the moon, but now you were standing right beside him across the room from your other partner, Remus knew that he was not mistaken. You stank entirely of Sirius: warm, musky, rich, honey-like and a little earthy. It was complemented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke and leather from his jacket. Normally, the boy would savour the smell of his partner, but you smelt so much like him that it completely drowned out everything about your scent. Something possessive inside him seemed to switch on. 

Remus snatched you up immediately, pressing you so tight to his chest that you thought he was going to smother you. He couldn’t help the glare he sent to his boyfriend over the top of your head. Glowering, he pressed a kiss to your head as his fingers reached to fiddle with the hem of your jumper, trying to inch it upward.

You pulled away and frowned at him. Sirius also bore a similar expression. “Moony?”

“You smell of him.” It was a simple statement that came out almost as a growl in his voice. 

“Who?”

Remus gestured to Sirius, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, with a nod of his head. When he spoke, his tone was filled with something Remus did not possess often. Jealousy.  “Sirius.” 

Sirius furrowed his brows, before realisation crossed his face and he gave you a look. Remus was feeling left out. He had been feeling rotten all day and now he was being left with a constant reminder of how you and Sirius had been spending the day clinging onto each other instead of him. To make matters worse, the moon was making him possessive: he needed to state what was his. 

“Take it off.” Remus’ voice was demanding, but you could hear the need hidden deep behind it. “Please.”

You nodded, your hands slipping over him as you helped him to remove your jumper. Remus tossed it to Sirius and pulled you back to him. Although the jumper was gone, which had helped a little, he could still smell his boyfriend all over you. Understanding this from the way Remus shifted antstily, being the loving boyfriend that he is, Sirius moved to Remus’ trunk to pull out one of his jumpers for you to wear. Before he could reach it however, Remus snapped. 

“Don’t touch them.” Remus moved toward his trunk and took a sweater before a very startled Sirius could react. Siri nodded slowly, taking a step back and raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. When after seeing you slip it on, the boy released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. It was better, but his mind still screamed at him: mineminemine.

“You alright Moons?” Sirius asked hesitantly, unsure or not whether to approach or not. Remus was still holding you close to him, peppering you with kisses, though he seemed to be less tense now.

He hummed, twisting toward his boyfriend but still not letting you go. This time his expression held much less venom than it had before “Sorry…” He started “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sirius took his chance to move toward him. Instinctively, Moony turned you away, but instead of trying to move you as he thought Sirius would, his boyfriend placed an arm on his shoulder. “It’s alright Rem. I understand.”

Remus tucked your head beneath his chin as your hand wandered to his own to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Still. I guess I thought I could handle being alone today… but it was all just a bit much. And seeing her come in here smelling of you…”

“Shh” Siri hushed, smoothing Remus’ hair. “You want to lay down?”

Remus nodded. “Is that okay with you, Dove?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled. Taking Remus’ hand you moved over to the bed, shifting the covers out of the way so you could climb beneath them. Remus followed, tucking you close to his body once more, and then Sirius lay on the other side of Remus, resting his head on his shoulder. 

Remus relaxed into the mattress as you ran lazy circles over the palm of the hand he was using to keep you in place. He pressed his lips to your head.

“I love you.” He murmured. “I’m so glad I can call you mine.”

“And we are glad to be yours.” Siri told him. 

“Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry if I overreacted…”

“Never.” You said. “Anything for our Moony.”

Remus pulled you closer to him. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be moving anytime soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[oddballwriter]

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really 

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 ⌝

DREAM RECALL your brother's best friend always seemed to have it out for you. But when he sneaks into your room one night, you start wonder if this is another one of his sick games.

wc -> 6.2k

pairings brother's best friend!taehyun x afab!reader warnings older!reader, kind of perv!taehyun, protected sex, vaginal fingering, slight edging?, tiny bit of marking (tiny tiny), taehyun refers to reader as "noona", some dom/sub dynamics, sub!taehyun + dom!reader, but they're both kind of switchy, idk how to tag it, just read heh

#serene adds ✎ @binniesbooks ahh baby I know I'm late but here's your little birthday gift!! happy belated birthday love (..◜ᴗ◝..) I originally didn't plan for it to be this long but I can never stfu when I write so I'm not very surprised heh :3 oouuu but I really like how this one turned out and I hope you will to, kisses from serene <3

The paintings on your wall rattled, the floorboards of your bedroom practically thumping in rhythm to the obnoxiously loud beat coming from your brother’s room. You tried to ignore it, pressing your headphones against your ears as you fought to block out the heavy bass. How long had it been, twenty minutes? It sure felt like three hours. — That’s it, you’d had enough.

Your blaring fists against the wooden door were barely heard, and after your third attempt, you kicked it open, causing it to slam against the wall with such force that Beomgyu finally turned around in his seat. His gaze flits between the squeaking door and your furious figure. “Sup sis?” He flashes you a small grin, leaning back in his gaming chair as he studies you expectantly. 

His ignorance only fueled the fire already searing within you. “Turn that down!” You yell, trying to overpower the thunderous noise of his speaker. Your brother’s grin only widens. “What was that?” He asks, his brows knitting together in a play-pretend frown, undeniably enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. But you weren’t going to let him have it, not today. 

With fast and determined strides you march over to the source of your misery. Pulling the thick cord from its component, you breathe out a small sigh of relief as the speaker falls silent. — “Oh come on, don’t be such a mood killer”, Beomgyu whines as he reaches for the cable in your hands, much to no avail as you step back. 

“Yeah, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Another voice carries out from somewhere to your left. Oh great, he was here too. Your glare is redirected from your pesky brother by his desk and over to his even peskier best friend. — Sprawled on Beomgyu’s bed, Taehyun shoots you a smug smirk as he watches the way your face contorts from anger into pure rage. 

There was little to be enjoyed about your brother’s best friend. And by little you mean nothing, the guy didn’t carry a single positive trait. Sometimes you thought he might’ve just been put onto this earth to serve as a plague to others. — Judging by how he made your life a living hell, you guessed it wasn’t far from it. 

Taehyun would come over more than often, it was almost as if he used yours and Beomgyu’s shared apartment as an extended home. Something about his dad being a shit person and him having nowhere else to go since he dropped out of college, at least that’s what your brother said. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. What you did care about was your studies, your peace and most importantly, quiet. 

You didn’t like Taehyun, you didn’t like the way he made your brother act. Sure Beomgyu was an ass most of the time, but it was manageable. Though whenever his best friend was around it was like your brother became a completely different person, an almost unrecognizable one. — Beomgyu was always the first to jump in front of Taehyun, defending his every word and action, all the while his so-called ‘best friend’ couldn’t be bothered to even lift a finger. 

“He’s got a rough time at home, cut him some slack.” Your brother had practically wailed as you had forbidden his friend from ever stepping foot inside your flat again.”I don’t care Beomgyu, he’s an ass. Can’t you see how he treats me?” You huffed as you ran a hand through your hair. But your brother only shook his head, feverishly grabbing onto your arm as he begged for you to reconsider. And unfortunately you did.  

“Come on, it’s only a bit of music”, Taehyun presses, propping himself up on his elbows as he tilts his head to the side ever so menacingly. You scoff in disbelief, gripping the wire tighter between your fingers. “If it’s only ‘a bit of music’ then I’m sure you’ll suffice without it.” Without waiting for them to get another word out, you turn on your heel as you storm out, not bothering to close the door behind you. 

It wasn’t like your hatred toward your brother’s best friend was unbiased. There were plenty of instances in which Taehyun had effectively fucked things up for you. Just thinking about them made your blood boil all over again. — For one, there was the shower incident. 

It had been a Thursday afternoon, your brother was in class but since yours had been canceled the day prior, you took some time to yourself. The apartment was silent, save for your quiet hums as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair, warm water cascading down your bare skin. — You later found out that Beomgyu, that idiot, had given him a spare key, and that’s how he got in. But unbeknownst to you on that fateful Thursday, Taehyun had let himself inside your home. For whatever reason, you had yet to be made aware of. 

Not only was he an annoying piece of shit human being, he was also a fucking perv. Upon turning the shower off, your hands in your hair as you squeeze the remnants of wetness from it, you pull the curtain to the side only to let out an ear-piercing scream as you come face to face with your brother’s best friend. — Taehyun was leaning against the door frame, arms neatly folded across his chest as his gaze roamed your bare body. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, immediately wrapping the drenched shower curtain around yourself as you shouted for him to get out. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on your figure, barely shielded from his view. “Get out you freak!” Your words have little effect as Taehyun merely shifts on the spot, “I’m not a freak”, he counters, his brows drawing together in an offended frown. You scoff, “you act like one.” — He shakes his head, “a freak would like what he saw”, his eyes snap back up to your own, “I don’t.” 

Your mouth falls open in bewilderment as you let out a short breath of air. “Well then that solves it, get out.” The corner of his lip twitches, and he chuckles, shaking his head but he still complies; sauntering down the hallway without the decency to even apologize. 

The second incident happened not long after. 

“Where the fuck is my laptop?” You had turned your room upside down in search of the device, frantically going through drawers and getting on all fours to peek under your bed. But it was nowhere to be found. — “Beomgyu I swear to god if you so much as lay a single hand on my shit– …you!” Stopping dead in your tracks, your gaze falls on Taehyun, perched on the sofa in your living room with your laptop in his hands. 

He gives you a small grin, but it was impossible to not catch the mischief lingering in his eyes, “your brother said I could borrow it.” Your mouth opens and closes several times as you try to comprehend the scene before you. “Can’t you use his? — And did you fucking go in my room?” You practically seethe as you point an accusing finger toward him. But Taehyun only shrugs, his attention shifting back to the screen in front of him, “maybe.” 

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying the things on your mind. It was one thing to be allowed in your home, where he had made himself more than comfortable, but it was a whole other thing to go through someone’s stuff without their knowledge, much less their permission. — And you knew for a fact that Beomgyu hadn’t allowed him to take your computer, ass or not, he had at least some sense. 

When snatching the laptop back, you found that he had managed to install not one but three different viruses. It took you about a week to get rid of them all before you could resume your coursework, and after that, you made sure to hide your stuff well. 

Those were only a few of the many occasions in which you had wanted to snap his neck in half. And as you flop back down against the soft mattress of your bed, discarding the cable somewhere on your floor, you let your eyes shut as you prepare for the very long day ahead. 

⋮

You spent the majority of the remaining afternoon cooped up in your room. Immersing yourself in your studies as you sought to block out any indication of Beomgyu and his friend’s presence. It proved very difficult as the pair would yell at one another, the game they played blasting through your small apartment. It seemed like disconnecting just the speaker in Beomgyu’s room served a minor threat to their antics. 

Briefly you considered telling them off once more, but you realized that it would probably only add to the building headache you were already experiencing. Instead you waited them out, Taehyun was bound to leave sooner or later, right? — Wrong. By 8 pm the game was still roaring, loud as ever and you were beginning to lose your last piece of sanity. 

Just as you were about to head out and get a look for yourself, there’s a knock to your door. You don’t know why you had expected it to be his best friend, but you’re relieved when Beomgyu pokes his head through the small opening. “We’re ordering pizza, you want something?” He asks and you hesitate for a moment before nodding, “sure, get me whatever.” Your brother grins before disappearing once more. — Oh well, at the very least the obnoxious sound of their game had died down. 

You think about thirty minutes had passed, thirty minutes of the apartment being basked in a calm silence. It was nice, your mind finally felt clear, but the persistent ache pounding in your head had yet to subside. With lazy feet, you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, from the safety of your room, before venturing down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. 

Your light footsteps seemed to echo off the wooden floor, every small noise making your head flare up in pain. Gripping your temple, you reach for a glass to fill, the pour of water sounded like thunder in your ears. As soon as the pizza arrived, you would head back to your room, eat, and then go straight to bed. With that gameplan in mind, you swallow the small pain killer, chugging half of your glass before setting it down on the counter. 

“What’s that?” 

The voice of Taehyun makes you flinch as you spin around on the spot, catching him by the entryway, a harmless smile on his face. But you knew better, you could see right through him, or so you told yourself. “Where’s Beomgyu?” You ask, clearly on edge as you study him with distrust. — Taehyun shrugs, pushing himself off the door frame as he walks over to the small kitchen island. “He went to get the food.” 

“You didn’t go with him?” It was odd for the two of them to ever be seen without the other, but your brother’s best friend doesn’t seem to mind as he leans against the smooth marble. “No”, he simply states, his gaze falling on your discarded glass. — “You took something”, he then adds, his eyes flitting up to yours. Still wary of the intent behind his question, you frown. “Yeah, painkillers.”  — “Why?” 

His persistent probing both confused and irritated you. “I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you.” Your voice grows snarky, you know he can tell by the way his lips twitch into a small smirk. “Why the sudden apprehension? I’m just making small talk.” He sounds almost defiant as he shifts against the countertop separating you. Sure, but Taehyun had never made small talk for the two years Beomgyu had known him. In all honesty he hadn’t even bothered to learn your name until his fourth visit here. 

“Cut the bullshit, there’s no point in acting coy now.” You snap, grabbing your glass as you empty the remaining water down the sink before setting it down amongst the other dirty plates, you can feel his gaze on you as you do. With your back turned on him, it’s impossible to read the expression on his face, but the smugness in his voice speaks for itself. “I’m not acting. I wanted to talk to you, noona.” Your jaw clenches at the formality, the way he drags the word out, each syllable sickly sweet on his tongue. — You often forgot the fact that Taehyun was a year younger than both you and your brother; a fact he would use to get his way with Beomgyu, but that wouldn’t work on you, not in the slightest. 

“Why, so you could pester me further?” You wonder, turning back to him with a small grimace. He shakes his head, the smirk on his lips growing with each passing second. “Not at all, noona.” — Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitates, if only for a moment, “this is the only way I could get you alone. Letting him go without me I mean.” 

You were almost certain that the lines on your forehead would become permanent if the frown on your face didn’t ease up soon. “And why would you want to get me alone?” You huff, trying to hide the sheer curiosity behind your snappy voice. Taehyun leans even further across the small island, inching dangerously close to where you’re currently standing. “Isn’t it obvious?” He cocks an eyebrow, letting his head tip to the side as his eyes roam your bitter expression. 

“I think you’re pretty.” 

Alright, that’s it, if Beomgyu doesn’t walk through the door right now you would surely have his best friend killed. Taking a small step back, you shake your head as you try your best not to laugh at the corniness of the situation. “Your jokes have not gotten any funnier”, you mutter, moving to walk around the countertop and head back to your room. In your haste, you fail to notice the frown etching itself onto his otherwise unwavering face as he turns around to follow your figure. 

It’s not until his fingers wrap around your forearm that you freeze. “Taehyun I’m serious–” Just as you’re about to tell him that you’re not in the mood for any more of his sly comments does he interrupt you. “Do you think I’m joking?” He sounds perplexed, and his eyes fervently search yours. You scoff, yanking your arm from his grasp as you fold them across your chest. “Why do you think I stayed behind? I mean, come on.” 

You want to tell him that no matter what comes out of his mouth could make you change your mind, much less your opinion on him. You want to tell him that he’s an annoying piece of shit asshole that’s made your life a living hell for the past two years now, and that you don’t understand what in the world your brother sees in him. But you don’t get the chance to get as much as a word out before Taehyun slams his lips on yours. 

It was sudden, and it felt forced, the way his hands grabbed either side of your face as he locked you in place, backing you up against the nearest wall in the process. Your first thought was that he kissed like a teenage boy, over the top and rough, his tongue pushing inside your mouth with little to no control as your teeth clashed together. Your second thought was, what the fuck is happening and why the fuck is he kissing me? 

Your hands jerk up to his chest, your eyes wide as you let out a strangled noise of surprise. Seemingly ignorant of your stunned reaction, he continues his assault to your lips, messily pulling your bottom one between his teeth, effectively drawing a small yelp from you. 

Taehyun was strong, a lot stronger than you, and it took a whole of three attempts to push him off. You’re both left panting for air, but while Taehyun looks to be in a clouded state, your face has contorted into a scowl. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You spit, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you eye him with disdain. 

He swallows, opening his mouth to say something but before you can hear it, the front door is unlocked, announcing Beomgyu’s return. Your gaze flits between Taehyun’s almost alarmed expression and to the entryway. Immediately seizing your opportunity, you dart out of the kitchen and down the hallway to greet your brother.  

You get there just in time to see Beomgyu kicking his shoes off, balancing three cardboard boxes in his hands. “Here, I’ll help”, you offer as you grab the pizza from his arms. He mutters out a quiet “thanks” before frowning, “what are you doing out here? I thought you’d locked yourself in your room.” — Rolling your eyes you turn back to walk down the hall again, “went to get some water”, you simply state, not waiting for him to catch up, but he does anyway, trailing behind you as he speaks, “where’s Taehyun?” Internally cringing at the mention of his name you shrug, “beats me.” 

Though Taehyun was exactly where you had left him, except now he was leaning against the wall, his usual and indifferent expression plastered on his face. You head straight past him, slamming the boxes down on the kitchen island as you rummage through the cabinets for a couple of plates. “Hey man, everything okay when I was gone?” Your brother wonders to which he merely receives a small nod from his friend, his friend who had his gaze intently fixed on your figure as you moved about the kitchen. 

“It’s getting kind of late”, you say as you pull a bottle of coke from the fridge, discreetly throwing a glance toward the clock on the oven. You prayed and hoped that at least one of them would catch on. Taehyun looks as if he’s about to say something, his lips slightly parted but your brother beats him to it. “Yeah you’re right, I reckon we’ll be done eating by 9.30.” Beomgyu turns to his friend with a small grin, a grin you knew all too well.

“Why don’t you stay over, Tae?” 

Your mouth falls open at the proposal. The completely uncalled for and unthinkable proposal. “I’m sure Taehyun’s dad will want him home..” — “No it’s fine, he couldn’t care less where I am”, the same lips that had been kissing your own not even ten minutes ago curl into a smirk as Taehyun watches you with gleam in his eyes. “I’d be happy to stay.” 

Swallowing the insults waiting on your tongue, you turn grab some glasses, intent on hiding the scowl on your face. The air was unusually thick, sure your brother was used to you and his best friend getting on each other’s nerves but there was something different lingering by the two of you today. And Beomgyu was not late to pick up on it. — “Did something happen when I was gone?” He wonders as he begins pouring soda for your small party. 

Taehyun remains silent as he rests against the wall, his expression near impossible to read. “No, nothing, why would it?” You snap, going through the boxes to find your pizza. “Alright”, he mutters before pointing to the cardboard box that held your food. — Mumbling out a quiet “thanks” you take it before reaching for one of the glasses. “I’ll be eating in my room.”

As you move around the island and head for the hallway once more, you can feel Taehyun’s eyes on you one final time before he falls back into a relaxed conversation with Beomgyu. — Not until the door to your bedroom is safely shut behind you do you breathe out the tension that had built in your body. Whatever Taehyun was playing at… you wouldn’t allow yourself to get pulled into his schemes. 

⋮

You stay in your room, listening to the sounds of the TV slowly dying out as your brother and his friend got ready for bed. You had made sure to use the bathroom before them, already clad in your pajamas, you sat on your bed as you waited for the apartment to fall silent. — It might have been just past midnight, or maybe it was even nearing 1 am when your head finally hit the pillow. 

But even though the flat was now being basked in an almost eerie silence, you couldn’t quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind as you tossed and turned on the mattress. Images of Taehyun flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t the usual Taehyun, the pesky one, the snarky and mean one. It was a different Taehyun, a Taehyun you did not recognize. 

You wanted to ask him why he kissed you, you wanted, no needed to hear him say that it was all a joke, a sick prank he was trying to pull. But when your mind so clearly envisions him, part of you thinks it wasn’t. “I think you’re pretty.” What a joke. Two years of pestering you and now he calls you pretty? No that settled it, it had all been a play, just another way for him to tease you. Just like he always did. 

The creak of a floorboard rips you from your overanalysis of the hours prior. Your eyes snap open and you still, holding your breath as you wait for anything to indicate the presence of someone else. “It could’ve been the wind”, you told yourself, or a flicker of your imagination, it was late after all. But the rattle of your door handle is unmistakable. 

You sit up, back pushed against the headboard as you watch the old wood glide open, revealing a shadow on the other side. It’s blurry, shielded by the darkness surrounding it but you can still make out Taehyun’s figure as he slinks inside your room, gently closing the door behind him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your voice cuts like knives through the silent air, and Taehyun can thank himself lucky that Beomgyu was a heavy sleeper. 

At first he doesn’t say anything, aimlessly shifting by the corner. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the dimness of the night. When he finally speaks his voice is low, not hushed, but low, lacking all sorts of menace it usually held. “I can’t sleep when he’s snoring.” — A petty excuse, there had to be more to it. 

Shifting on the bed, you pull the blanket higher over your chest, suddenly becoming very aware of the thin nightgown you were wearing. “But that’s not why you’re here.” You state, this time in a less aggravated tone. You can hear him let go of a small breath, taking a step forward which illuminates half of his face as moonlight seeps through the cracks of your curtains. “No”, he breathes. 

“I…” He hesitates, you catch his hands balling up into fists for a moment before relaxing again. Then he suddenly grows bold, bolder than you’d ever seen him as he takes yet another couple of steps forward. He reaches the end of your bed and you tense up, eyes narrowing down on his frame. “What do you want, Taehyun?” The doubt and suspicion in your voice is clear as day and you see his jaw clench at your accusing tone. 

He runs a hand through his hair, restlessly shrugging his whole body. “Fucking hell, come on noona, don’t make me say it.” You freeze at the small formality, it still felt unreal, hearing it pass his lips so easily. Just what was going on? “If this is another one of your stupid pranks then I–” 

“It’s not.” He sounds determined, almost stern. The mattress dips as he sits down, immediately scooting closer and you find yourself backing up as far as the headboard would allow you to. It’s easier to make out his features now, the way his brows drew together, how he bit onto the inside of his cheek as his eyes remained on the pillow next to you, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You had longed to ask the question, your mind practically reeling as it awaited his response. He blinks, once, twice, three times, then he swallows. “I thought if I…If I didn’t do it then…then I might never get the chance to again.” His brows furrow even further and he sounds as if he was at war with himself. “Why, do you mean you’ve been waiting to do this?” 

His once dazed gaze snaps over to you and he lets out a small scoff. “Of course I fucking have but you– your brother, he’s always around, I mean it’s impossible to get you alone and I..” He trails off, his fingers intertwining in the soft duvet as he pulls the silk into his hands, gripping it tightly. “My brother is your best friend.” You remind him, eyeing him with wary eyes as a confused frown etches its way to your face. 

“I know.” He runs his free hand through his hair, seemingly a nervous habit of his. “That’s what makes it so much worse.” — “Makes what worse?” You’re beyond puzzled, trying desperately to piece together the means of his otherwise scattered words. He huffs out a sharp breath, then he grabs your wrist with the same force he had used just hours earlier when he pinned you against the wall in the kitchen. In one swift motion he moves the palm of your hand to rest flat against his crotch, the prominent bulge makes your eyes widen as you try and pull your hand away. “This”, he practically seethes, his grip unwavering as he yanks you closer. 

“It’s torture, being in this house when I know that you’re just a room away.” His face is mere inches from yours and you find yourself at loss for words as you stare back at him. “I can’t even hang out with my best friend without my mind being clouded by his fucking sister.” He spits, letting your wrist go as he withdraws his hand, as if ashamed of his feelings. 

“Then why do you come here? If it’s such torture”, you wonder, rubbing your sore joint between your thumb and index finger. Taehyun looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter as he shakes his head. “Because it’s the only way I can see you, isn’t it?” — “Hell, even now, I’m forced to sneak into your room in the middle of the night to get you alone.” 

He inhales through his nose, his chest rising as he does, “don’t you understand, noona?” Your mouth parts in a thousand unspoken questions, none of which you ask. Slowly, you piece together just why he was here, why he had burst into your bedroom during the darkest hour of night, why he was so desperately sharing things you never thought you would ever hear him utter out loud 

The hesitation only lasts a second, then you find yourself leaning closer, so close that your lips pressed against his. A small peck, that’s all you give him before straightening your back once more. “I think I understand.” Your soft whisper is like a warm caress to his face and without waiting another second, he pulls you back, pressing his mouth against yours with the same urgency he had hours prior. 

You didn’t know what you had expected him to do, but pinning you down against the mattress of your bed was certainly far from it. His large hands cradle your face, his knees sinking into the bed either side of you as he holds you down. — It was wrong, it really was. He was your brother’s best friend, not to mention the fact that he had made your life a living hell these past two years. Were you really going to let one kiss change all of that? Taehyun’s hand caressing the bare skin of your thigh makes you think, yes. You could deal with the consequences tomorrow. 

He was all over you, kissing down your jaw and neck, his hands dipping beneath your nightgown to roam your chest, squeezing your tits before moving down your sides. It was almost as if he didn’t know where to start, too caught up in the fact that the unimaginable was actually happening. — “How long have you liked me?” You’re unable to hide the teasing edge to your voice, but he doesn’t seem to catch on. “F-Fuck since I first saw you”, he groans, yanking down your panties with one harsh tug as his fingers messily circle your clit. 

Letting out a moan of sheer surprise, you arch into his uncoordinated touch. “Then why did you act like such a bitch?” You question, your hands running through his dark hair before giving it a small tug, feeling him shudder against you. “H-ah, didn’t know what else to do..” He grunts, middle finger probing at your throbbing hole before pushing it in, drawing lewd sounds from you as you grip his soft locks tighter. 

“Why, do you get off on making me pissed or something?” Your comment was meant as a mere sarcastic remark, but Taehyun nods against the skin of your neck. “M’jack off to you so much”, he bluntly admits, adding a second finger to your dripping cunt as he does. You scoff, bewildered at just how deep his small crush was rooted, “that’s disgusting.” He only hums against you, thumb pressing down on your clit as he nibbles on your soft flesh. 

“That time in the shower”, he drawls, his lips moving up your throat, reaching your jaw before reconnecting on top of your own. “Can’t get it out of my head”, he groans into your mouth, his hard on pressing against your thigh in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling. “I thought you said you didn't like what you saw.” — He shakes his head, “m’lied”, he mumbles before pushing his tongue inside your mouth. 

“Please, let me have you, I promise I’ll be good from now on, noona.” 

The thought of denying him was sweet, a way to get back for all the shit he’d caused you. But the way your cunt clenched around his fingers made you waver in your decision. Your silence makes him slow down, he pulls back to study you intently, wet lips hovering above yours. — “Fine”, you huff, propping yourself up on your elbows, “do you have a condom?” When he immediately nods as he shuffles through his pockets you wonder just how long he had been thinking about this. 

He reaches for the hem of his pants but you swat his hand away, “give it here.” Gaze flitting from the small package between his fingers and your determined expression, Taehyun complies as he hands you the condom. With practiced habit, you slip a hand down his briefs, fingers wrapping around his leaking cock as you pull it from his sweats. You never thought you’d ever get to see a pretty dick, but it was the only way you could describe it. Flushed and pink, slick with precum as it throbbed in your palm, you clenched at the sight.

He lets out a small noise of pleasure as you give him a few lazy strokes, ripping the plastic packaging open with your teeth in the meantime. “You’ll be good, yeah?” Your question hardly requires an answer but Taehyun eagerly nods, emitting a small yes. The corner of your lip twitches, the sudden change in his demeanor was almost endearing. — He inhales sharply as you slide the condom on, making sure to drag out your movements as you do. 

Upon settling back onto the bed, you shoot his unmoving figure an expectant look. “Well what the fuck are you waiting on?” — Blinking, he immediately springs into action as he moves to hover above you, the tip of his cock pushing against your glistening folds as he lines himself up. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, noona”, he mumbles, gently pushing himself past your tight rim with a small groan. 

“Flattery won’t work on me”, you breathe, fingers reinstalling themselves in his hair as you tug his lips back onto yours. His moans vibrate on your tongue, the tip of his nose nudging your cheek as he presses himself even closer. “I mean it..” — “Shut up.” Your sharp tone makes his cock twitch inside of you and you have to bite back a sly remark. He pulls back, his heavy breath mixing with yours as he picks up a fast and rough pace. The snap of his hips makes the bed squeak beneath you, and you can only hope that Beomgyu was knocked out good in his own room. 

Your hands leave his hair, fingers trailing down his chest before dipping inside the fabric of his shirt. You knew that he was fit, often catching glimpses of his toned arms whenever he’d move about; yet you couldn’t help but marvel at how his broad back felt under the tips of your fingers. — “Noona”, his voice is gruff and his arms either side of you tremble, “m’close.” 

Your nails digging into the skin of his back makes him groan as his pace stutters. “I’m not”, you state, even though you felt your orgasm building in the pits of your stomach, the thought of letting him endure it for just a moment longer was satisfactory in itself. — Your hands move to his shoulders, urging him off as you flip your positions. Hesitantly he complies, leaning back against your soft pillow with a small frown, only for his face to contort into a breathless one as you slid down on his cock once more. 

“Being good from now on doesn’t solve things, does it?” You drawl, moving your hips tantalizingly slow as he writhed beneath you. The new position allowed for him to sink impossibly deeper inside of you, and the stretch of his thick shaft made your jaw slack. “You’ll have to make up for all the past shit you’ve caused me, got it?” He blinks before quickly nodding, large arms finding your waist as he helps you move quicker, rougher, on top of him. 

“I will”, he gasps, hips snapping up to meet yours impatiently. His eyes remained glued on the way your tits bounced with each movement, your perky nipples poking through the thin material of your gown. You felt him grow even harder, the throb of his cock matching that of your cunt, vigorously clenching down on him. He bit his lip, suppressing the sinful sounds on his tongue. “S-Shit noona.” The grip he maintained on your hips was bound to leave marks but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

One of his hands leaves your waist as he props himself up in an attempt to get closer to you. But he barely makes it halfway before you push him back down. His head hits the mattress with a small thud and he grunts in displeasure as his hand on your hip tugs you closer, making your lips part in a small whine at the wave of pleasure that shot through you. “Fuck, are you tryna wake your brother or something?” He huffs, lips curl into a menacing smirk as his thumb presses against your clit, making you shudder on top of him. 

“Why, I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You scoff, hands moving down his chest as your nails scrape across his skin. He doesn’t answer, his jaw clenching as he jerks up inside of you, the movement followed by a string of hushed profanities. Rolling your eyes, you lean down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, the action has him stilling completely and he groans as he spills inside the condom, the twitch of his cock making you wince as you urged your own orgasm on. 

Your fingers close around his chin, pulling his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “You’ll be good for your noona from now on, right?” He nods, immediately letting you push your tongue inside his hot mouth. “I will, I will”, he breathes, gasping as he feels your cunt clench around his already overstimulated cock; your high searing through you like never before. You never think you’d come this hard in your entire life, and to think that it was all because of your brother’s best friend. — Your thighs ached, arms burned, but your heart was beating uncontrollably fast as you finally pulled away from the kiss, leaning back to admire Taehyun’s fucked out expression. 

Fuck if only your brother knew what his best friend was up to at night. Seemingly reading your mind, Taehyun clears his throat, his now soft cock remaining inside of you as his hands caress your thigh. “You won’t tell Beomgyu about this?” — A small grin pulls at your lips and you shake your head. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his best friend prefers his sister.”

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[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[litlunacy]

Thinking about the implications of playing a Dalish Rook and dealing with actual elvhen gods and having said gods look at your face and see your vallaslin and like...just assuming they own you since they were originally slave markings. And extending that to Davrin and Bellara as well. Which led me down a hole of trying to figure out which vallaslin they both have (1. Because I am a sucker for anything Dalish related and 2. Possible story ramifications? Who knows).

Davrin seems to have a fairly straightforward Ghilan'nain vallaslin, though slightly altered from before, which isn't surprising. The blood writing has already undergone changes between Origins/2 and Inquistion (Regional variations I suppose? Would definitely make sense for Merrill's Ferelden clan and Quiz's Free Marcher clan to change them slightly. Anyway.) But he has the delicate curved branches on the forehead and the small chin design so I'm fairly confidant about that one.

But Bellara has absolutely stumped me. I kinda figured that since we got confirmation that it was Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan at the end of the gameplay trailer, that since Davrin's is Ghilan'ain it would make sense for Bellara to have Elgar'nan's. But hers looks absolutely nothing like the previous versions.

So that's out. But it does bear a very very slight resemblance to the June vallaslin.

Or at the very least has a lot of similar elements, such as the cross-hatching, the double series of dots, and a focal point in the central forehead.

My only other guess is Andruil or Dirthamen, because the DAI versions of both of them also feature series of dots, and none of the other Vallaslin do from either Origins or Inquisition.

Maybe somebody will ask the devs for confirmation on twitter or in another Q&A or something. Because I am vibrating with curiosity.

(Honestly, since we're gonna be dealing heavily in this game with a lot of ancient elf stuff, I really hope we at least get a little bit more from Dalish characters about their specific vallaslin. Like, I wanna know why my party members chose the vallaslin of that particular god. You don't sit for hours in total silence as your Keeper pokes your face with a needle without putting some kinda thought into what's going to be on your face for the rest of your life.)

[cevansbrat0007]

Regrets Only.

Summary: Ari reaches his limit with your latest TikTok prank...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, TikTok Pranks, Shenanigans, Angry!Ari, Brat!Reade, Small Chase Kink, Light Manhandling. Biting, Spanking, Bondage, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @jamneuromain. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

In all the times you’ve tried, you’ve never once regretted pranking your man with something you’d seen on TikTok – until today. Yes. Believe it or not, this time you might’ve gone a bit too far. 

Which is why you’re currently holed up in Ari’s fairly spacious closet, sipping on a bottle of water and munching on a granola bar while you wait for the bounty hunter to calm down. You lean back with a sigh, only to wince when you feel a shoe digging into your side. 

You make quick work of tossing it to the other side of the room before returning to the treat in your hand. But just as you go to take another bite, you hear something that makes your stomach sink - even as your pulse spikes. 

And it lets you know that you are well and truly fucked.

Earlier That Day (Roughly Twenty-Seven Minutes Ago)

After a solid ten minutes of vigorous stretching, you bend down to check the laces on your tennis shoes. Once they’re secure, you quietly make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the items you needed for your latest prank. The one you planned to play on your favorite unsuspecting bounty hunter, who was blissfully snoring away on a couch in the living room. 

Now, this particular one just so happened to be a little…bolder than either of your previous stunts. It required more courage, coupled with a dash of bravery, and a well thought out Plan B in the event things went south. 

You open the refrigerator and pull out the pack of hot dogs you’d bought during your last trip from the grocery store. While you’d originally told Ari that you wanted him to put them on the grill, he had no way of knowing that they would also be used to torture him. Common sense told you that you’d be better off keeping that tiny piece of information to yourself. 

Stifling a mischievous giggle, you extract one singular frankfurter from the package before resealing it and putting it away. Next, you move to your utility drawer to gleefully swipe a pair of scissors. 

This was the entire plan. You were going to quietly tuck a hot dog in your man’s zipper, and then wake him up so he could watch you snip it in half with a pair of scissors. In all the videos you watched – and you’d watched a number of them – every bleary eyed victim panicked as if you’d just cut off their actual dick. 

And therein lay the prank. 

The clips had left you in stitches for hours. So much so that Ari had noticed how much fun you were having, only to roll his eyes when you revealed that you were scrolling through his least favorite app on your phone.

Fucking TikTok.

He hated it. You loved it. Frankly, the only reason he even tolerated you telling him about the things you’d seen is because he could tell it brought you joy. 

Excitement buzzes through you as you tiptoe into the living room. You’re grateful to see that Ari is still sleeping, snoring soundly with one impressively muscled arm tucked behind his head. 

With gentle hands, you dutifully undo the zipper of his Levi’s before carefully inserting the hot dog. Since you don’t want to mess this up, you make sure to go slow, taking your time. You just knew this prank was going to be epic. 

Once that’s done, you briefly take a second to wipe your hands on your leggings before taking a deep breath. Well, it was now or never. Go big or go home, as they say. 

Leaning down, you grab Ari by the shoulder, attempting to jostle him awake. It takes a couple tries, but he does eventually open his eyes.

“Whaa–?” A grin breaks out across his handsome features as he emerges from his sleepy haze. “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya, Beast.” You offer him what you hope looks like your most unhinged smile and the reveal the pair of scissors that, up until now, you’d kept hidden behind your back. “How’s about I take a little off the top?” You sing, brandishing the shears. 

“The hell?” His confused blue eyes go wide as they follow the path of the scissors. Shock overcomes him as he watches, in what feels like slow motion, as you cut off a sizable portion of the frank. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” He roars, grabbing himself as he scrambles off the couch and onto the floor before proceeding to do the funniest, most awkward backwards crab walk you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You double over with laughter as Ari struggles to come to grips with the fact that you definitely did not just make him the next John Bobbitt your Lorena. He’s breathing hard as he rips the hot dog out of his zipper, holding it up to the light. 

“Oh my God, that was amazing!” You wheeze.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” He tosses the damned thing across the room before covering his face with his hands as he wills himself to calm down. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you decide to put the bounty hunter out of his misery by whispering his least favorite phrase: “It was a prank!” A renewed wave of laughter hits you when you recall just how gobsmacked he’d been by the whole ordeal. God, your sides hurt something fierce. 

“Just what in the ever loving fuck would make you think that was funny?” Ari growls low in his throat as he finally sits up. And the look he’s giving you now…

It’s hot enough to burn right through you. And not in a sexy way.

“That’s just the magic of TikTok, I guess.” Your smile wanes as you watch your severely irritated boyfriend slowly climb to his feet. “I mean, you should’ve seen your face when–”

“When what?” Comes his quiet rumble, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. “When I thought you cut my dick off just now? Is that–is that what you’re laughing about?” The smile he offers you looks a little less than friendly.

“Um yeah. I’d say so.”

Instinct, as well as the need for self-preservation, has you taking a cautious step backwards. You were prepared to run if you had to. It was the whole reason why you’d stretched in the first place.

“Oh yeah?” Ari scrubs a palm over his ticking jaw. “Is that so?”

Instead of responding you decide to simply nod. Oh, and take another step backwards, of course.

“I’m sure that if you’d maybe stop and think about it –”

“Why don’t you c’mere so I can show you just how much I appreciate your so-called sense of humor?” He motions you forward, opening up his waiting arms. 

But you know better. 

“I, uh…” You hedge, bracing your hands in front of you. “Can see you might need some more time to appreciate the joke. So I’m just gonna…um…” You blow out a breath. “Give you some space so you can – eeeep!”

An incensed Ari picks that moment to strike - lunging at you with a speed that belies his size. Thank goodness you’re prepared. Ducking under his arms, you spin around and make a mad dash for the stairs. Squealing, you take them two at a time, hoping to make it to your sanctuary before he can get his hands on you. 

“Get your ass back here, Bird!” 

No way, pal!

Heart pumping, you grab the doorframe and all but slingshot yourself into Ari’s bedroom, slamming the door behind you. While it would only buy you a couple of seconds, that was really all you needed. 

You dive headlong into a nearby closet before swiftly closing the door and hitting the lock. As your chest heaves, you decide to take a seat on the floor before reaching for the bottle of water you’d previously planted in your hiding spot.

After guzzling almost half, you replace the cap. You knew you ought to conserve your rations. Just in case you were stuck here for a while. 

“I’m not on your shit today, baby. Okay? Today your man’s got time!” Ari bellows seconds later. “So, if I were you, I’d come on out now!”

Shaking your head, you vow to stay silent. So you say nothing, even when he tries the knob on the door that separates him from you. 

“Open up, sweetheart!”

Again you say nothing, in favor of unwrapping one of your favorite granola bars. They were the chewy kind, the ones that tasted more like dessert than they did something healthy.  

“I’ll come out when you calm down!” You finally yell back after you chew and swallow. “Fucking Beast.” You grumble under your breath.

“Oh, I’m more than calm.” The weight of his sardonic chuckle is not lost on you. “Why don’t you come on out and see?” You can’t help but jump when one of his fists pounds on the door. “I swear…I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t believe you!” 

“You’re gonna open this door, darlin’.”

“No, I’m not!” You hiss, throwing one of his shoes at the wall for good measure.

“Yes, you are.” Ari hits back. “Now, you can either come out on your own, or…”

“Or else what?” 

“Or, I’ll come in there and get you. And trust me, little Bird…that’s the last thing you want.”

“Yeah?” You spit, meanwhile inwardly lamenting your man’s lack of a sense of humor for the umpteenth time. “Well…” You take another bite of your granola bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

Famous last words.

Ari whistles low, making you shiver. “Wait right there, baby. I’ll see you in a minute.”

You let out a sigh of relief once you get the sense that you’re finally alone. As funny as it all had seemed initially, you were quickly coming to regret this particular prank. The longer you sat in this closet, the more you began to honestly examine – and then reexamine – your life choices.

Perhaps it was time to give your newfound love of pranking your bounty hunter a break. Lips pursed in thought, you allow yourself another bite of your chewy bar. Only to frown when you hear a very familiar sound that fills you with instant regret.  

Apparently Ari had returned. And he’d brought his power drill. Fuck!

Your mouth goes dry as the sound grows louder. And then you’re forced to watch in horror as your man makes fast work of literally removing the closet door from its hinges. It was the last thing you ever expected your normally rather patient and understanding boyfriend to do. 

“There’s my girl.” Ari’s dangerous purr comes as he picks up the now useless slab or wood and sets it aside like it weighs almost nothing. “C’mon out of there so we can talk.” 

When you don’t move, your bounty hunter decides to come get you. He hauls you out by your wrist, making sure not to bruise you in the process.

“Beast, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? I mean – ooh!” You scoff, only to rise on your toes when his free hand comes down on your vulnerable ass. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Let me make something very clear here, darlin’.” He leads you over to the bed before sitting down and then pulling you over his knee. “You want to waste time messin’ around on that stupid app you love so much? Fine.” Ari slaps your rump again, forcing you to bury your face in the covers to keep from crying out. 

“But where I’m gonna draw the line right now is you testin’ ‘em out on me. Unless you’re in that kitchen whipping up a new recipe I am not to be your guinea pig. You get me?”

His heavy palm comes down hard again when you don’t respond. This time he takes a moment to massage your cotton covered backside. “Do. You. Get. Me.” Each word is peppered by a solid smack.

“Yes!” You wail, although it comes out slightly muffled. 

Still not satisfied, Ari goes to grip the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down to your ankles, complete with your simple, white cotton panties. “This could’ve been a relaxing Sunday for us, little Bird. Just mindin’ our own business.” You can’t help but shiver when you feel him fondle your upturned ass, molding and massaging your burning cheeks. “But you just had to go and be a brat, didn’t you?”

“I–I’m sorry!”

It was too little, too late. And you both knew it.

“Oh now, you’re sorry.” He mocks before raining down a fury of perfectly-timed smacks. “I love you, baby. I do. But I also know you. You’re not really sorry – at least not yet.” 

Ari eases out from beneath you, all the while demanding that you remain face down with your reddened ass pushed up in the air so that he can enjoy the view while he prepares the next part of your punishment. And you had best believe you feel his sharp teeth sink into the left globe of your ass before he goes.

Consider it a parting gift.

One Hour Later…

And that’s how you found yourself handcuffed to the bed, courtesy of the signature purple, butter leather cuffs he’d had made for you. Unfortunately for you, you’d learned that he’d recently purchased another set…

For your ankles.

Your bounty hunter smiles as he picks up one of your vibrators – the one you’d purchased together – before applying it to your already oversensitive clit. Bucking your hips, you try to escape the torture.

With no such luck.

You desperately tug at your restraints, even as your cries fall on deaf ears. No matter how many times you promised to never play another prank on him ever again, it still wasn’t enough. Instead he’d continued to keep you bound while he worked out his anger…

By ruthlessly overstimulating your poor, sweat slicked body. No matter how many times you came, no matter how many times you threatened to scream yourself hoarse, he kept demanding more.

Because, according to Ari, since you’d taken a few years off his life, you apparently owed him as many orgasms by way of apology as you were able to give. Which meant you were going to be sore as hell tomorrow. 

Which was why, in this moment, although you could feel another orgasm threatening to overtake you, you were filled with nothing but…

Regrets only.

END  

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