#3b replies

[beansprean]

Breathing the same air…

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(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Shot inside Stede's bed nook, from the foot of the bed, the entire scene washed in shades of blue. Bright moonlight from the windows slants across the bed and wall above.A line of decorative pillows divides the bed down the center. Stede is sitting up in bed on the side by the window, wearing a nightshirt with a frilly collar. Ed, wearing a plainer nightshirt with a low neckline, parts the curtains briefly to slide hesitantly under the covers on the other side. He glances over at Stede and asks, "We can do this, right? Sharing a bed." Stede smiles reassuringly and replies, "Of course! We even have this handy-dandy pillow barrier to keep us honest! I will keep hands to myself, I promise!" He holds his hands up above the covers as if to prove it. If it wasn't 1717 he'd be saying 'scout's honor'. 1b. Zoom in slightly as Ed lays down on his side facing the pillow barrier and closes his eyes, tucking the blankets up to his chin. He grins into the pillow and chuckles, "Alright, well. G'night." Stede lays down on his back, arms folded on his stomach over top of the shared blanket, and aims a besotted smile toward the pillow between them. "Goodnight, love." The light from the window slants over Stede's shoulders and the top of Ed's head, just above his eyes. 1c. Close up of Ed's face, head buried in the plush pillow and blanket pulled up to his nose. Eyes closed, he inhales deeply. 1d. Repeat. Ed exhales, an anxious crease forming between his brows, and opens his eyes to gaze in Stede's direction, eyes shining up beneath his lashes.

2a. Shot from Ed's POV: the barrier of pillows, Stede's hair just barely visible beyond, and the slanted curtainless windows with a gibbous moon shining brightly in a clear sky. Stede breathes in - the only sound in the room. 2ba. Small angled panel with a close up of Ed, eyes softening fondly as he exhales on cue. 2bb. Repeat, panel falling down the page as Ed closes his eyes and drifts away, the light from the window crawling up the wall. 2bc. Repeat, zoom in, the panel halting its descent as a shuffling sound alerts Ed and his eyes fly open. 2c. Wide shot of Ed from above, the blanket turning transparent so you can see his whole body, curled up on its side with hands tucked up by his chin and right knee hiked up, nightshirt rucked up to mid-thigh. There is nothing but shadow and continued audible movement on the other side of the pillow wall where Ed can't see. He freezes, wide-eyed in the darkness, face flushed as his heart pounds loudly in anticipation. 2da. Close up, beneath the covers, as Stede's bent knee crosses the barrier and presses against Ed's. 2db. Close up of Ed's face in profile, cheeks dark, mouth trembling, sweat beading on his forehead as he stares at the pillow in front of him. He thinks to himself, panicking, "I'm not gonna make it!" 2dc. Close up, beneath the covers, as Stede's left foot sneaks over to brush its toes against the top of Ed's right. Ed thinks again, "I'm not gonna make it!" 2dd. Close up, beneath the covers, as Stede's left hand slides over to tuck a pinkie over Ed's curled right hand. Ed thinks again, "I'm not gonna make it!" 2de. Repeat. Ed's right hand turns palm up, allowing Stede's pinky and ring finger to slide into its palm.

3a. Wide shot from Stede's direction, movement ceased. Ed's face appears, wide-eyed and flushed, as he lifts his head to peek slightly above the wall of pillows. Ed thinks, "...he settled?" 3b. Close up of their hands again beneath the covers, Stede's gone still. Ed curls up his fingers, linking his pointer and middle fingers between Stede's ring finger and pinkie. Ed inhales, and Stede exhales. 3c. Close up of Ed's face, tucked into the plush pillow with the blanket pulled up to his chin. He smiles, eyes warm and full of affection as he inhales deeply. 3d. Shot from above, blanket and pillow wall turned transparent so full bodies are visible. Ed is curled up on his side just as before, hair spilling over the pillow and eyes closed. Stede has sprawled onto his stomach, right leg out straight and left hiked up underneath the pillow wall to press against Ed's. His right arm is flopped above his head and his left has migrated over to Ed's side, fingers linked together. Stede is fully asleep, mouth wide open and drooling. Moonlight from the window slants up the wall, far above them now, and they exhale the same air together. /end ID

#ofmd #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #stedward #mlm #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #my art #fanart #image described

[setsugekka]

❥5 weeks (m)

↳ In which a freelancing stylist gig puts you between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being ‘never slept with a client before and not looking to start now,’ and the hard place being a younger than you and much too daring for his own good, Jung Wooyoung.

jung wooyoung x older stylist fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12.1k wc] cws: unspecified age gap!! they’re both down atrocious but he is the one making all the moves, mutual masturbation, a metric fuckton of dirty talking, praise, humiliation, pet names including ‘mommy,’ and the use of ‘noona’ but really it’s his kink and not hers (a drop of ‘daddy’ too but it’s more for comedic purposes than anything), drop of a breeding kink (also kinda comedic), oral sex (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, wooyoung has a Big Dick and is wildly kinky and confident.

“Oh, give me a break!”

Shoulder sling of your bag dropping from you in exasperation and barely caught by your hand as to not allow your belongings to fall to the floor, you roll your eyes briefly towards the man informing you of the terrible news of the day. Of the month.

“Are you kidding me? This isn't what my contract said.”

“It sort of is,” the man reluctantly replies, avoiding eye contact that he knows will not help make the situation any better for either of you. “Blah blah blah 'in the event of a personnel shift then we have the freedom to place you wherever we need you.”

You knew, you were lying in hopes of being able to get out of it.

Unfortunately, when you took the job and signed the contract, you did know that this would be a likely outcome. Freelance stylists were able to choose three groups of which they had preference in working for throughout the show — bigger groups come with their own stylists and full slots majority of the time, but occasionally need additional hands on, which is where you come in. Smaller groups have less on board staff and require more freelance help on set — also where you come in, although, not ideally.

Of the six groups on broadcast, you had worked with four. three you enjoyed, they went on the list of preferences.

The one that you didn't enjoy working with, along with the other that you hadn't become acquainted with, were left off. Nothing against them, just better to play it safe with what you're familiar with.

And now you have to find out which group you got assigned for the next five weeks.

Slinging your bag back onto your shoulder with a huff, you thank the man for his time even in spite of not really being all that thankful, and make your way down the white walled hallway, the names of groups you're familiar with passing you by — slowing down as you pass the ones you had wished to work with and happily waving towards the members as you carry on — it's a brief relief, you'll still get to see them and have fun with them, just not as much as you would have given alternate circumstances.

And then you reach the room number, 3B.

ATEEZ.

Squinting slightly, you recall that you're actually not completely unfamiliar with them, and happily, they're not the group you didn't enjoy working with. You already know the names of everyone in the group, and you think you remember doing some behind the scenes broadcast work when they were still in their first year, albeit, not much.

It could have been worse.

Walking into the room, you first introduce yourself to the entire lot of people, then focus towards managers and the other stylists — all very welcoming and happy to receive the help, it seems.

Then, the members.

All of them gathered around, clamoring to accommodate you in such an overwhelming way that you can't hardly make out a single word being said one way or another, Hongjoong finally shushes the rest to get a word in edgewise and calmly welcomes you on board, along with apologizing in advance for whatever it is that may take place as a result of working with the lot.

You don't know what he means by it exactly, but you're familiar with working with boy groups — some things are pretty standard across the board. The dirty jokes, the messiness, the crudeness — if you're lucky, it mostly ends there, immature young men just trying to fit in having a good time in the midst of their otherwise busy schedules — you're used to giving it a pass.

But you sift through your mental rolodex of stories that you've heard about groups through the grapevine — water cooler among stylists type talk — and fail to land on anything in particular about them.

When it comes to this sort of stuff, no news is good news.

The boys scatter back to where they had come after the warm welcomes, and you dart your head around in an attempt to find a place to put your personal belongings. Truthfully, the room is small for the amount of people in it, and you're seemingly the last to join the crew. You wish not to place your purse down on the floor next to the door, but without another option at hand, you resign yourself to the fact that this will have to make due. Phone and wallet sticking out of the top, you kneel down to scoot the items against the wall when a strong hand comes from the side, taking you by the wrist. It's gentle even in it's abruptness, and takes you by surprise all the same.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he says, quickly letting go of you but remaining in his knelt position next to you. “Don't put it there, I got a place.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words, and the implications, you cock your head to the side before responding to him. “Problem with thieves? I mean, I know it's a pirate concept—“

“Oh, very funny!” he says, matching your playfully mocking tone with wide eyes. “No, but the door has loose hinges and if someone comes through that thing fast enough it's going to destroy everything you've got in there.”

Come to think of it, you had noticed that upon entry. Not as funny as what you had said, though.

The both of you stand, your items in hand again, and he leads the way towards a small area of the room that he appears to have made out for himself. It's simple: two folding chairs, one for sitting, and one to serve as a table, with his food already set out on it — the man points towards under the table-chair. “Put it there.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know my name?” he asks, no discernible tone to it, but you can't recall an idol ever asking you the question outright — especially knowing that you're a freelancer.

You watch him only break eye contact with you long enough to seat himself back down, taking his lunch into his hands and nodding towards the makeshift platform, communicating to you that he wishes for you to use the chair for its intended purpose now.

“Is this a test? Or some kind of, I don't know—“ you pause, leaning back comfortably. “Am I like, supposed to?”

And he laughs in response, a sudden chuckle as if not having expected the retort at all. You watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and take a sip of his drink before settling in to respond to the comment. “No, I was just curious because I wouldn't introduce myself again if you already had. I'm Woo—“

“Wooyoung, I know who you are.”

“Wow, all of that just for you to already know who I am?” he questions, wide eyed again — you can tell that he's enjoying the banter between the two of you. You'd be lying if you had said you weren't doing the same. “Enjoy playing games, is it?” he asks.

Typically, you would say no. But right now?

There had been a handful of idols that you had worked with over the years where the two of you hit it off naturally, comfortably. A welcomed lack of professionalism in an area of work that didn't normally allow for any room for it, being able to meet people that truly allowed for you to simply be yourself — it made going to the job everyday just that much easier.

“So,” you begin, not wanting to allow the conversation to die down as the man with the two-toned hair in front of you continues his meal with all eyes on you as you speak. “Who has the problem head in this group?”

“Problem head? “ Wooyoung exclaims, having never heard the verbiage before.

“Yeah, like who is going to be the biggest issue. Who doesn't wash their hair like a normal person or never brushes it or whatever.”

“Oh!” he yells, finally having caught on, and wipes his mouth with the napkin again before pointing across the room and loudly calling out towards another member. “It's Seonghwa! It's 100% Seonghwa! Never seen that man brush his hair in my life!”

Laughing, you turn to look behind you at Seonghwa seated in front of a mirror, another stylist going to work on his hair — roughly, at that — and as you make eye contact with a Seonghwa who is shaking his head, you move your eyes up and towards the stylist behind, solemnly nodding in accordance to Wooyoung's claims.

You turn back, Wooyoung shoving more food into his mouth. “Told you,” he mumbles between chews. “You got a boyfriend?”

You had let the conversation die down, and just as quickly, Wooyoung sparks it up again, still gnawing on the chicken in his mouth as he gets the words out.

“No,” you carefully reply, question lacing your tone that the man is sure to pick up on, but he only grins, swallowing, wiping and leaning forward towards you so that he doesn't have to carry his voice in more than a whisper.

“Good.”

By the end of the first week, you had a good idea that you might have sex with this guy.

On a surface level, you weren't too thrilled with the prospect, though. In all of your years working in the industry, you had never crossed that line. You knew colleagues who had, and worked with idols that regularly did, but despite not being morally or fundamentally opposed to the idea, it seemed better for everyone to just not. It was easy enough, usually. You had met some people that you had hit it off with and sure, the thought had crossed your mind occasionally — the sneaking 'what if' of a fling with someone, but it never felt especially in grasp. You weren't going to go out of your way to make it happen, and as far as you could tell, no one else had on their end, either.

Until now.

An entire week of friendly banter and heavy flirting that only came on stronger and stronger with each day, it's the first friday when you have Wooyoung in your chair and hair in your hands that the glances shared felt especially loaded.

Pulling on his hair slightly at a particularly tricky knot, you apologize, watching him wince vaguely in the reflection — only for him to glance up from his phone with a half grin and a wicked pointedness to his eyes.

“It's fine, I like it.”

And you want to be able to ignore it. Ignore the implications of the words. Feeling foreign eyes on you, your vision quickly darts over to make contact with Hongjoong's — seated next to the two of you and being dealt with on his own. He chuckles under his breath, having overheard the comment, and you pull on Wooyoung's hair again, this time on purpose.

A silent insistence for him to behave.

“How old are you, noona?” Hongjoong suddenly asks from beside you, eyes glued back down to his phone screen, and you're not sure why he's asking.

You have your suspicions, though.

“Older, old enough,” you respond. It pulls another chuckle from the leader of the group.

“Makes sense,” he says, finally receiving the go ahead to get up from the chair after having been finished with. “He likes that. Good luck with this one.”

Feeling heat rush to your face, and not particularly enjoying the fact that everyone in the room seems to be in on the situation at hand, you look back at Wooyoung in the reflection: still grinning with not a care in the world related to the topic.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself with a deep inhale. “You do this often? Flirt with your stylists?”

“I wouldn't say often,” he responds plainly. “It's not unheard of, though.”

“You run off a lot of stylists?” you laugh, playfully pulling at his hair again.

“No,” he says, a certain cuteness taking his tone before leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at you directly. “They don't run off.”

You want to be better. Stronger. Able to ignore it. Not to be like them, you don't flirt with idols you work with and you certainly don't sleep with them, either.

But you're guessing Wooyoung has plans for that, as well.

On the next Wednesday when filming runs late, with the majority of the staff having left, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang are kept behind to refilm some shots. For only three members needing attention, and the normal staff for the group having to accompany the rest to their other schedules, you're left in charge of the three — along with their managers.

Which is simple enough: Yeosang, as off the wall nutty as he is, is relatively easy to work with, and Yunho being so kind and willing to do whatever it takes to make your job easier, you're only left with the one problem-child, as it were.

When filming for the three finally wraps at a quarter past one in the morning, you thank everyone for their time and willingness to accommodate you as they all head out to meet up with the rest of the members...until a PD comes in last minute once again and requests for another shoot for Wooyoung.

“It's fine, I'll catch up with you guys later,” he tells the rest, including his manager — tired and worn no doubt from a hectic schedule of, well, managing Wooyoung.

“How are you going to get home?” you ask him, confused about his dismissal of his handler as he hurriedly shakes his black and blonde hair free of the half ponytail it had been put into as they were leaving.

“I know how to get home, I'm an adult,” he laughs in response.

“I mean with the fans.”

“Oh,” he pauses, slipping on the shoes from wardrobe that they had had him in prior. “That's easy to deal with, honestly. Already scoped out the escape!”

For some reason, you don't even question that to be the truth. It sounds like something he would have already had planned.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, rushing out towards the hallway, only lingering in the doorway long enough to catch your response.

And you know that deep down, you should — that the best way to avoid trouble, and subsequently Wooyoung, is to leave while he's caught up, with no chance of roping you into some nonsense that you wish you didn't want to be roped into.

But at the same time...what could it hurt?

What's a little adventure?

And the way that his lips curl at the response is devilish — has you second-guessing your choice already. Evidently, a man with an extremely devious plan that he has every intention of putting into action with the older stylist that he barely knows anything about.

Suddenly, you recall Hongjoong's words just a few days prior. A warning. 'Good luck.'

“Be back soon!” Wooyoung chimes, “and then we can get out of here.”

As if the 'we' wasn't bad enough, it's the way his bottom lip catches on his teeth as he exits the room, eyes locked with your own before disappearing into the madness of idol life once again.

You had sort of hoped that something would have come up that barred this scenario that you had originally agreed to. Now darting and weaving through dark, empty hallways of the entertainment building — quite possibly the last people in there that night besides overnight security, when Wooyoung finally brings you to the VIP entrance that he had briefly mentioned before, dual hearts sink at the sight just beyond the large, glass doors.

Pouring rain — unable to be heard from inside of the massive concrete building, but now plain as day in front of you, Wooyoung huffs at the sight, scanning the scattered construction equipment also littering the outdoors — not taken into account, but now definitely hurting the escape plan that had already been set into action.

“I guess we just make a run for it,” Wooyoung sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “This wasn't really part of the plan, you know.”

“I gathered, but—“ you pause, bringing his attention down to the three bags of your heavy and also quite expensive belongings that you would rather not get soaking wet. “I'm not running anywhere, not well, at least.”

He huffs again, looking up again to stare back out of the window pane. “Well, we can't stay here, don't think we have much of a choice.”

You had already accepted the fact, but hearing the words only causes a pleading sigh to drop from you. “Yeah...where are we running towards, anyways? What's the plan?”

Bringing a hand up, Wooyoung points out towards what appears to be just large equipment for moving and storing concrete and other such things, before elaborating further.

“Across the parking lot and then across the street there's a small, 24-hour convenience store where we can wait and call a cab.”

“How is that safe?” you question, dumbfounded. “How is it safe for you to be seen running around in convenience stores in the middle of the night with a random woman?”

“No one is going to see us, first of all, the weather is terrible and no one knows about this exit,” he begins, “second of all, my friend owns the place, so we'll hang out in the employee lounge until it's time to go.”

You visibly frown at the plan, still worried about your work items, but Wooyoung catches it — gently placing his hand on your wrist just as he had the first time the both of you met.

“We'll...figure it out, okay? Trust me. But we gotta get out of here before security calls security.”

Darting through the doors, Wooyoung holds your hand tightly into his as the two of you slosh through the downpour of the great outdoors — cold and windier than you both had anticipated, when the wind catches you and the bulkiness of your belongings just right, Wooyoung tightens his grip even more as he feels you veer off of the trail. You call out to him once, pulling your things against you as best as you can and he only calls back, “I know!” before finding some sort of shelter where you can hide for the time being.

And once inside, you realize how cramped it is.

It's a totally spur of the moment decision obviously, and not much else to work with, you know this — crammed face to face between two metal sheets in an otherwise packed construction shed — but you're able to shrug your bags off of your shoulder and push them to the side with your foot to grant you a bit more space as you attempt to wring out your hair, dress, and cardigan.

Eventually, when Wooyoung comes back to mind, you look up at him — thin, wet, t-shirt clinging to every curve and dip of the muscle in his chest, hair windswept and just as wet as everything else — and you try not to take notice, or allow your eyes the freedom to trail down, because you remember that he left in sweatpants, and that's plenty good enough to go off of.

But with not much space between you and the hastiness in which you arrived, Wooyoung's thigh ends up not so gently crammed just between your legs.

You notice. You can't help but to notice, you can only hope that he doesn't.

However unlikely that may be.

The first violent shiver of the cold air taking the wetness of your body, you insist that Wooyoung ignores, and he does, at your request — but by the second, he's not so willing to listen to orders.

Taking you by the wrist, the man pulls you forward and against him, your hands only able to catch yourself on his shoulders to keep from falling completely flat against his body, and you have no choice but to force down the sound that being pulled up and along his leg threatens to elicit.

'Bite it back, bitch,' you tell yourself in thought.

“Don't be difficult, it's freezing out here,” Wooyoung finally says, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you pressed into him. “Keeping you from catching pneumonia isn't really my go-to move.”

You chuckle, the only thing you can do at the ridiculousness of the situation. Turning to look outside as the rain beats loudly against the shed that the both of you take shelter in, Wooyoung shifts again, causing the top of his thigh to press upwards and harder against you. Eyes screwing shut, you try to steady your breathing — it's so dumb, you think as the situation unfolds, feeling like a teenager who can't keep it in her pants but in a situation where it otherwise wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the fact that the hot guy that you work with — who almost definitely wants to fuck you — is currently lodged against your pussy with either not a clue and therefore doesn't have the knowledge to keep still, or very much aware and no interest in keeping still.

You didn't even really want to know which one it was, you just had to wait for the rain to lighten up.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to match Wooyoung's gaze, air finally drying out his hair a bit to leave it more air dried than soaking wet. He looks good, you hate that.

“You ever hook up with anyone you worked with?”

Mind reader? Gross.

You choose to ignore the implications, answering in a way that doesn't satiate the curiosity that he's hoping for. “Yeah, I used to date a guy who worked for the same company I did before I went freelance.”

“That's not what I mean,” Wooyoung frowns. Of course he wouldn't let you get away with it. “I mean an idol. The talent.”

Clearing your throat, you find that your proximity to Wooyoung that once offered a comforting warmth was now emitting far more of a scalding heat, and with your palms pressed to his shoulders, you manage to free yourself from him slightly, back against the metal sheet behind you and creating space between you and the nosy man just in front of you.

“No, I have not.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” you snap, not angry but unsure of what it is that he's fishing for. “Just...never been in a situation where that was a realistic thing that could happen, I guess. It's not really something that I seek out. I'm there to work.”

“You've never wanted to?” Wooyoung then says, tone dropping slightly and a small shift of his leg. It's enough that you can ignore it, but with your face fully visible to him now, you're not sure how much you can fake it if he starts to catch on and get braver. “Never desired someone?”

He's extremely perceptive.

“And what about you?” you ask back, table turned to grant you some proverbial breathing room. “Hongjoong sure made it seem like this was the sort of thing you do often.”

“Hongjoong is terrible at keeping his mouth shut, that much is for sure,” Wooyoung chuckles, then reaching forward with one hand and finding the hem of your dress — pressed up the length of your thigh only slightly due to his own having your legs agape. “But he is right, I do like older women.”

“So you just hit on every stylist that comes into contact with you?” you laugh, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his fingers playing with the cloth on your thigh, or the way that his eyes are smoldering and locked onto you.

“No, of course not, I'd have had a reputation that you'd have heard of by now if that were the case.”

That was true.

“So no, hitting on the stylist isn't a first for me, if you must know,” he adds coyly, hand now slowly sliding up and against your bare skin. You freeze against his touch. Is this really happening? Here? Now?

“I play with a lot of them for fun, and they play with me, but rarely does it leave the fitting room.”

You swallow hard, and when he shifts again suddenly you aren't prepared — his words, his touch, it's all too distracting for when the press against you comes — breath hitching in your throat for a split second before biting your lip in an attempt to pull the involuntary reaction back.

Too late, though.

Wooyoung looks down, seeing the positioning of his leg between your own and finally makes the connection with a devilish grin — looking up at you from through eyelashes, he hums in response, hand that had once begun a journey up your leg now stilled at the outer side, fingers playfully dipping into the elastic of your panties as if having a plan in mind all along.

“Oh, I see,” he sing-songs at you, deliberately pushing up and into you for the first time, and it certainly makes the difference — your head falling back against the steel lightly. “You know it's funny, I genuinely did not mean to do that.”

“Don't laugh,” you sigh out, now on your last leg of having the composure to not give in to him, and to yourself. “I'm not going to have sex with you, I don't have sex with clientele.”

Humming again, the man begins a steady, slow pace of flexing his thigh up and against you, hand coming around to feel what he can of you that isn't taken up by the space of his leg, and with his fingertip only finding slick wetness that water doesn't have, he smiles again.

“Fine,” he responds with a tone that's only just above a whisper. “But I can still make you come.”

“Shut up,” you whimper out, knowing that your resolve is falling away with every second that you're near him and even faster with every word that he says. You say that you won't fuck him, but truth be told: you're not completely convinced of it yourself. “I—, I—“ you attempt to say, always cut off by the way he feels against you, and even distracted by the lone finger that gently rubs at you from the side as best as he can.

You open your eyes, an attempt to come back down to earth from how quickly you're giving yourself up to this man, but your eyes immediately drop to catch the protrusion in his sweatpants — still wet and fabric clinging to the girth, you swallow hard and bring your eyes back up fast.

That knowledge was the last thing you needed if you were to make any sort of strong attempt not to have sex with him.

“Like what you see?” Wooyoung says playfully, a nod to the silly line often heard in comedies or pornography.

Unfortunately, you do.

You feel him shifting again, having to mull up the braves to allow your eyes to fall back down that way to find out what it was he was up to, and once the courage is mustered, you grant it to yourself.

It was a mistake.

“God,” is all you whisper out at the sight — Wooyoung's beautiful hand wrapped loosely around himself, lazily stroking in time with the ministrations of his leg up and against you, and it's all just a little bit too much.

“Watch,” he says, this time no jest in his voice and the pace of his thigh picking up just slightly. “You don't want to watch me?”

In the moment, you think that you would literally not ever want to watch anything other than that ever again.

Eyes coming back down, first to meet his own — half-lidded and mouth slightly parted, a beautiful sight before you, the visual of him palming over himself for your viewing pleasure — getting off on nothing else but the sight of you riding his leg.

The visual serves to be more stimulating than you'd have liked to admit, feeling the familiar bubbling in your abdomen, you try to find something that you can brace your hands on to give yourself more leverage — since the both of you are now resigned to letting this moment play out — and Wooyoung catches on quickly, choking out a “use me,” between steady, rhythmic pumps of his fist along himself.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders again — now able to feel him work himself beneath you as you rut against his leg and if you weren't already so worked up, you might have been embarrassed about how quickly your orgasm approaches you.

“W—Wooyoung, I—“

“Good, good girl,” he groans, rhythm of his arm beginning to give out at the implications of your orgasm fast approaching, but it's the next words that truly wreck you. More than you may have ever anticipated outside of that singular moment in time.

“Use me.”

And it breaks you. Orgasm washing over you — it's not particularly hard or overwhelming, the circumstances not exactly granting themselves to having an earth shattering sexual experience, but Wooyoung follows you shortly after — high pitched whine escaping him as his eyes screw shut, ropes of cum painting his fisted fingers as he gently finishes himself just next to you.

Taking his messy hand from himself and into your own, you bring it up and to your lips, the man before you catching on quickly despite a hazy come down and shortened breath; two of his fingers part your lips and press inside shallowly at first, then slightly deeper as he feels the way that your tongue wraps around him to clean his cum from them.

All the while with unbroken eye contact, when Wooyoung finishes imagining the way that your mouth would feel around his cock, he snorts, pulling his hand from you and grinning.

“Nah,” he begins, gently attempting to dislodge himself from between your legs. “You're definitely going to fuck me.”

With two weeks down after that late night stuck in the rain, without so much as a single sly comment about the goings on of that evening, you resign yourself to the understanding that he had gotten the interest out of his system.

And you suppose now, with the imminent danger of potentially going where you've never gone before and crossing that line, you can admit to yourself that deep down, you're a little disappointed in that fact. He had made quite the compelling case, after all.

And a beautiful cock, at that.

You do, however, find it charming that his behavior never really changes towards you. Even in spite of the bizarre intimacy that comes with watching the other come without having ever so much as shared a kiss, Wooyoung plops himself into your stylist chair just as he always has — hair a mess and tank top a bit too loose for your liking given your coming to terms with not ever having sex with him, you allow yourself one good look across the expanse of skin he's happy to show, and even with knowing that he sit in the reflection watching your eyes rake over him with a slight curl of his lip, you still can't help yourself.

Besides, what's one more good look? It's not the only part of him you've seen.

Tapping on his phone as you begin brushing into his hair from behind, Wooyoung asks you how you are today, just as normal. No suspicious tone, seemingly no ulterior motive.

“The same as always, how are you?” you respond, still tugging at the strands.

“Better now that I get to see my work wife,” he quickly responds, as if the entire premise of the conversation had simply been a set up for him to lay this one on you.

And if his intent was to trip you up, you were ashamed at how well it worked, freezing up instantly just before shaking it loose and carrying on. “Work wife? Is it okay that you joke like that?”

“Why not?” Wooyoung chuckles, looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror in front. “Also, your legs look crazy in those jeans.”

Heat rushing to your face, not wanting to look to either side at whether or not another stylist or member is listening in on the conversation, you lean down toward him and rush to a whisper. “Okay you definitely can't say that!”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung whispers back, turning his head just an inch to nearly meet your skin with his mouth. “Let me see you.”

Instantaneously, you pull back from him — back into working position and fight back the embarrassment of what's taking place. Wooyoung only grins again, looking back down to his phone and not pushing the topic any further.

When the guys begin exiting the room one by one to begin shooting, Wooyoung exits last, but not before stuffing his hand into the back pocket of your pants and maintaining a knowing eye contact with you for far too long.

You want to think that he left something in your pocket, but knowing him, just wanting to touch your ass isn't a possibility you can completely write off.

When the rest of the staff leave besides the other stylists, you manage to pull away just enough to check your pocket, feeling the presence of a small slip of paper — clearly what Wooyoung had intended on you finding, with a phone number scribbled on it. Nothing else.

Sure, you wish to be stronger than to give into the allure of the sexy, younger guy that you work with, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't delighted at the prospect that he had not, in fact, lost interest just yet.

>you: hey, it's me.

It's all you send. Playing it cool and not at all desperate being paramount in this exchange now in order to maintain your dignity.

After all, you said you wouldn't have sex with him and now here you are, texting him knowing fully well that that is precisely what he's after. Perhaps you just needed a push in the right direction, but not without being able to feign a lack of interest, first.

It's only fifteen minutes later that he responds, and given you know they're recording, you expected it to be longer.

>big trouble: who is this? who is me?

You roll your eyes, but immediately move to reply.

>you: you know who, the woman whose ass you just groped so that I would contact you.

The signal of his typing pops up just as quickly.

>big trouble: you'll have to be more specific :p

He begins typing again.

>big trouble: kidding, what do you have me saved as in your phone? don't use my name!!

>you: oh darn I actually had it saved as group name plus full name and flashed it around when you replied, is that going to be a problem?

You become hyper aware of how you're smiling at your phone in the presence of other people, you try to bite it back as to not raise any awareness, but relatively unsuccessful in doing so.

He is so fucking charming, and fuck if you didn't enjoy his company.

A few more minutes pass before he begins typing again, close to ten when a response finally comes through.

>big trouble: sorry replies are gonna be spotty until we get out of here. let me see you.

You realize now, upon him saying it to you again — that you're not even entirely sure of what he means by that. See you: naked? Date? Outside of here? Too many options to just assume, but you also hate to ask — stomach bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of what it could mean, you realize that even you have to figure out just what, exactly, your intentions are with this guy.

But if you want to know something, all you can do is ask.

>you: what do you mean “see me”

Immediate typing again.

>big trouble: not at work, preferably with your legs over my shoulders and my face buried in your pussy.

Locking your phone you immediately press it face down and into the couch cushion next to you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes for a second to recollect yourself; steady breathing, and desperately trying to ignore the ache growing between your legs from just a single line of text.

You feel your phone vibrate again and can't even be sure you're ready to read whatever insane thing he's sent next, but suppose you can't just leave him on read. Not on that note.

Not when you're particularly interested in the proposition yourself.

Slowly picking your cell back up, carefully looking around to make sure no one can spy in — now not necessarily about it being who you're texting but generally speaking sexting is frowned upon in professional settings — you illuminate the screen to confirm that the incoming message is indeed, from him.

You open it.

>big trouble: i'm flexible though, actually hope you are too <3

Sick with how you can hear his tongue in cheek tone even through text, you get it together enough to finally begin typing out a response — not entirely sure what to say, given you don't necessarily want to agree to doing anything with the man just yet, and especially not like this.

>you: is that a good idea?

With some time having passed since his reply, you know that he's probably off working again — setting your phone down you exhale heavily, leaning your head back against the couch.

But all you can think about is Wooyoung's sandwiched between your thighs.

The buzzing from your phone brings you back, and you open it in more of a hurry than maybe you would have liked — much too eager to find the next insane thing that the man has to say to you.

>big trouble: oh no it definitely isn't

>big trouble: that's kind of the fun of it though

>big trouble: get into a little trouble with me, but i'll make it worth your time if you let me

You don't doubt him for even a second. Another text comes in.

>big trouble: I think you want to play with me, like a little bit

In the moment, the only thing that you can offer in response is that you'll think about it, still not completely willing to give yourself up to the desire of having him, or letting him have you — an obvious conquest of sorts on his end, of which he seemingly stacks up notches on his bed post — but you need time to decide if you're willing to make peace with being just that in exchange for getting what it is that you want from him, anyways.

Mutually beneficial? Absolutely. You just have to decide if the juice is worth the squeeze.

Two days out from wrapping filming, backstage is hectic — corridors lined with people running back and forth, darting in and out of rooms and racks of clothing and shoes serving as a make shift obstacle course everywhere you go, it's nothing you're not used to, and despite working for ATEEZ as a group, in ways you found yourself assuming the position as Wooyoung's handler in particular — occasionally Hongjoong's as well, enjoying his quips and stories as sort of an old soul in the body of a young man who took comfort in placing himself in otherwise awkward scenarios between you and the man you were almost definitely going to have sex with — you could only assume that Hongjoong had caught wind, and not because Wooyoung told him, but because he was quick on the uptake.

And he found it humorous.

Winding through the halls pushing the both of them out and ahead of you towards where they need to go, it's Hongjoong first who greets the senior idol exiting their dressing room to the left, then Wooyoung, and then you.

But you know them already.

One of the idols of the groups that you already get on with quite well, it's a friendly greeting, and you certainly can feel Wooyoung watching it all too intently — as if trying to poke a hole in a story once told to him in fabrication.

Saying your goodbyes, the three of you push forward again, not long before reaching just back stage and to your destination. You pull Hongjoong first, doing some last minute touches on his hair and eye makeup before sending him on his way, then Wooyoung — pouting like a baby as you press fingers into the sides of his hair that had fallen and now needed retouching.

“Oh geez, what?” you huff out quietly, thankful for the goings on around you that no one would hear you even if any one had time to stop and eavesdrop on the conversation.

“You two were cozy, huh?” he says — playfully, but you think it might be a ruse.

Wiping excess hair wax from his temple and shoving a clip into your mouth due to lack of hands, you look him dead in the eyes. “Wooyoung, I haven't slept with him, oh my God—“ you exasperate, slicking more product into his head, “and even if I had, none of your business.”

You watch as his eyes narrow, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at your bitter words and begins to curl his lips into a smile just before telling him that he's finished and to go do his job.

“I know,” he says under his breath, leaning forward momentarily. “Was just hoping to hear the story if there was one.”

It's sinister in tone, like he's already getting off a little on the prospect of hearing about you getting fucked by another man, and the more you think of it in that split second, the less you would even be surprised if that had been the case. But Wooyoung continues to look at you as he steps backwards and towards where it is he needs to go — a display of power, in ways.

You're not sure you could run this guy off if you tried.

Hours later into the evening and close to midnight, you just about finish packing up your things, placing bags by the door next to all of the other stylists and managers items also eager and ready to head off and get rest before the last day of filming before you catch from the corner of your eye — phone laid out on the table and face up, illuminated in the dim lighting of a room soon to no longer be occupied for the day. Stretching your arm out and reaching towards it, almost immediately you recognize the length of name on the screen that alerts you of who it is that's contacting you.

You glance around yourself, just to be sure.

>big trouble: let me see you tonight.

Stomach jumping into your chest, to say yes to him is a big step. You're aware that at any point in time you can rescind said yes, but all the same — even just the logistics of getting him into your place to begin with comes with it's own set of worries and challenges and truth be told; you hadn't put any thought into such a plan.

But you still kind of wanted to.

>you: how?

He begins typing just as quickly as your response sends.

>big trouble: i'll take my managers car, just say yes if it's yes don't worry about the rest.

Realistically you know that it's him on the line. Sure, it wouldn't look great for you as a freelancer if it started getting around that you take home men from work, but not nearly the same career expectations are in place. You take a second to mull it over before attempting to respond. He sends another text through in the meantime.

>big trouble: please if I have to see you in those jeans again and not suffocate in your cunt I think i'll fucking die.

You appreciate his eagerness, as does the throb between your legs in anticipation. He sure knows how to talk to a lady.

And despite the reluctance, you give in, sending over your address in the next text, along with the demand that if he not be there by 12:30am to not bother showing up at all, it's a long work day the next one, after all.

An immediate reply again, you pull your bags onto your arms and head out of the doorway before reading his response.

>big trouble: I have every intention of putting you to sleep.

When 12:18am ticks on the oven clock in your kitchen, one glass of wine down in anticipation and an attempt to calm your nerves, you start to assume that he's not coming. Perhaps he had come to his senses, or got held up and wasn't able to make it.

But just as suddenly as the thought comes to you, a buzzing on your door sounds, and your heart drops to your stomach — bubbling in anxiety and the possibility of what's going to happen now. Now that the both of you will be properly alone. Now that...he's here, and with hours to spare.

Setting the glass down onto the table, you clear your throat and make your way towards the door, checking the peep hole despite knowing precisely who it is that you will find — it's charming, in a way: Wooyoung standing there in baseball cap and mask, heavily bundled in an attempt to not be found out on his naughty little rendezvous. He's brave, you gotta give it to him.

Opening the door slowly, Wooyoung slips in, pulling both adornments from his head before you're even able to close the door completely, then moving to kick his shoes off. He looks at you, shrugging his jacket off and placing it onto the rack just next to him.

“I can't believe you're still wearing those fucking jeans.”

And as taken aback as you are by it being the first words to leave his mouth upon entering your apartment, more than that, you're taken by being immediately pushed back and towards the couch — his eyes flat and narrow and completely darkened by lust as your behind eventually finds the cushion and Wooyoung immediately falls to his knees between your legs.

Pulling himself up and beginning to grapple with the button and zipper of your jeans, he leans up and finally kisses you — for the first time, you're reminded again — plush, hot lips messily pressing into your own, it's evident just in that contact alone how much he's been wanting this moment, greedy and quick and not at all making a point of taking his time before pulling away to loosen the fabric from your legs and toss it elsewhere on the floor beside him.

Wooyoung comes back up, kissing you again and just as hungrily as before — feeling his fingers dip into the elastic hip of your panties, before once again pulling back to release those of you as well.

He breaks the cycle then, bringing up the flat of his fingers against your pussy to feel the heat radiating off of your skin before looking up at you and resuming said cycle — pressing his mouth hard against yours again, trailing down the corner and along your jaw — teeth grazing lightly against the skin as the tip of his middle finger gently dips between your folds to tease at you. Breath hitching in your throat at the contact, you feel him grin into your skin.

“W—Wooyoung,” you choke out, intensity of the situation all consuming and somehow more heavy set than you had even expected.

“What?”

But you forget what it was you were even planning on saying once his finger makes proper contact with your clit — perhaps it was nothing, just an airy exasperation of his name altogether, but just as quickly as everything else the man between your legs pulls from you and pulls you down by the legs, ass edging on the side of the sofa and propping your legs up on his shoulders just as he had said he would — wasting no time thereafter going to work on you.

And you didn't expect him to be lying about what he would or wouldn't do if given the opportunity, but his eagerness right then and there — tongue pressing hard circles into your clit just before applying ample suction against you with his lips, not unwilling to make a mess of himself in the process and, from what you can tell, all the more delighted in doing so as his face glistens with each time that he pulls away to reposition — with eyes screwed shut and one arm tossed over your face in an attempt to stay grounded, the other reaches down, finding its way along the top of his head, fingers curling into hair that only hours earlier you were neatly decorating and clipping into place — hair now entangled and tightly gripped as Wooyoung makes alarmingly quick work of your body from your living room floor.

Bringing a hand up, he delicately presses one finger in, finding little resistance, and adds a second upon his following drive into you. Hand pumping into you at a slow, almost excruciating pace, Wooyoung focuses all of the attention on sucking you harder, faster with the way that your breaths pick up and become weaker, whines higher pitched than before — and if you weren't close before, the additional stimulation gets you climbing that peak all that much faster, gripping hard into his hair as you whimper out his name again, this time far more broken than the time previously.

But like a good man, he doesn't stop — bringing his eyes up to watch as you fall apart above him, you open your eyes only briefly to take in the sight, his eyes smiling back at you with the pretty little adornment of the beauty mark just beneath one.

You cuss, grinding hard down and against his mouth, and come undone against him just like that. Wooyoung sucks you through your orgasm, shallowly pressing fingers into you before removing them altogether as your high dissipates. Chest heaving, you lie in the afterglow of your peak, eyes still closed from exhaustion in the aftermath.

Wooyoung chuckles from between your legs. Cracking open your eyes, you find him settled back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with unbridled satisfaction.

“I've been dying to do that,” he finally says, leaning forward and snaking the palms of his hands up your bare thighs, thumbs catching on the hem of your shirt and pressing upwards with insistence that you allow him to remove it. You grant him the access, pulling your back off of the couch long enough for him to pull the fabric up and over your head and watching as he happily tosses it elsewhere before leaning down and pressing his mouth against your own again.

The kiss is brief though, before a man on a mission makes his way back down from where he came but with stops along the journey — nimble hands reaching around the back of you and working to remove your bra — before you even have a moment to settle, plump, warm lips and tongue press into your now exposed flesh and the feeling of him; so encompassing and overwhelming has you squirming in desire beneath him as if you hadn't just come already.

“I need you,” he whispers into your skin, tongue circling your nipple between commentary. “Please, I need to feel you so bad, you drive me crazy.”

You're not sure what it is, the unabashed neediness or just the fact that it's him or maybe even the combination of the two — a man so young and famous and sexy that he could have anyone he desired and yet right now, in this moment, he makes you feel as though the only person or thing he's ever desired so badly in his life...is you.

It's as if the burning throb of arousal never even left you.

“Noona, please.”

It wasn't typically something that did it for you, and in fact, you never understood why it really 'did it' for anyone — but you had to be honest, it was working for you now.

Needy whining, begging, spilling from Wooyoung as his mouth lingers across the expanse of exposed skin. You ask him to take his shirt off and he follows through immediately, only to come back up to pick up where he had left off, but the feeling of his own hot skin against your own only serving to light you up even further.

“Switch places,” you whisper to him, and he follows order without question, pulling up quickly and allowing you space between his legs. Palms grazing over the top of his thighs, you smile up at him at the sight before you. “Same sweats as that one night?”

“Coincidence,” he answers, voice already slightly broken at the implications of what's to come, so you waste no time gripping into the waistband of his pants and pulling down his legs, freeing him and finally becoming more acquainted with what it was that had your interest really piqued since that night only a couple of weeks prior.

“Don't seem so tough now, you know,” you mock, taking his length into your hand and lazily pumping him, his eyes glued to the way you make contact on him.

“Wait until I get you in the bedroom,” he answers, tone lower and less broken now — as if snapping back to reality to assert some form of dominance that had never really had a place in the interaction prior.

You inch forward, taking him into your mouth shallowly, tongue wrapping circles along the tip as he melts into your mouth — both hands coming forward to hold onto your hair. He's not rough, and not assuming the pace, but with every press down of your mouth along him you take him deeper and deeper, his mouth dropping open just that much more at the feeling of your warmth along his shaft.

“Feel so good, you feel so good,” he chants under his breath as you bob along him — a steady rhythm but not so fast with intent to get him there, Wooyoung's head falls back to take in the feeling. “That's it baby, you take it so well.”

The praise has your pussy throbbing all over again, pace on his cock quickening unbeknownst to you just at the prospect of what other filthy things will fall from those beautiful lips.

So, you play along.

Pulling off of him briefly and replacing the sensation with your hand, you look up at him, quickly fisting him and occasionally licking a circle around the tip. “Yeah? That why you like older women? Like the experience?”

Wooyoung groans at the words as if you accidentally stumbled upon some kink that he hadn't made you all that privy to to begin with, hips bucking up into your hand as his eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, know your way around a cock, don't you?”

“I do,” you answer, stuffing him back into your mouth without warning and taking him down a few times just to listen to him groan deeply at the sight and sensation before pulling back up. “Hoping I fucked that guy back there just so you could be sure?”

“Little bit,” he chuckles through a whine as you continue to jerk him off along side the conversation. “Kinda like hearing about it, too.”

“Nasty boy,” you tease in reply, licking a stripe up his shaft before circling around the head of his cock again and watching the way his eyes roll back.

But just as suddenly, Wooyoung snaps forward, pulling your hand off of him and standing up to pull you with him towards the bedroom. “This one?” he asks, simultaneously shoving you inside of it as if the answer you provided wouldn't have matter to begin with, but you assure him that it is, in fact, the correct room as he continues pulling you towards the bed — turning to lie himself on it first before reaching for your wrist and pulling you down to straddle his hips.

You assume the position, grinding gently against his length as he brings you into a sloppy kiss again, you pull off of him not long thereafter, hands flat against his chest as you slide against him.

“All this talk just so I can ride you, eh? Lazy boy,” you say with the same teasing voice as before.

But Wooyoung shakes his head, hands quickly making their way up the length of your thighs and settling on your waist as you hover above his aching cock.

“I just have to see you ride my cock, please, I'll fuck you stupid afterwards, I'll have you begging for it, baby—“ he pleads, one hand slipping down between the two of you to align himself with your entrance, other hand gently pulling you down onto his shaft as he continues on. “—Wanted me to fill you up that night, but I'll do it tonight instead.”

It's an unfortunate giveaway the way his words have such an affect on you, already nearly fully seated on him when the nasty implications of the plans he has for you that evening drop from his sinful lips — walls clenching hard around him, so much so that he groans at the feeling as you sink down to fully take him in. Wooyoung's fingers dig into the skin of your hips as you gently begin to rock against him, thick girth of him tugging at you in all of the ways that you knew it would when you saw it — so full and stretched that even the slightest movement pulls at your clit as you ride him ever so delicately. You whimper shortly thereafter at the feeling he provides you, your nails now digging into the skin of his chest as he watches the space between the both of your hips — watching how your cunt struggles to accommodate his size and yet does so regardless, he allows his head to fall back against the mattress, taking in the feeling of the moment as you bite back your pathetic, flustered, sounds.

“Feel so good, baby,” he finally says, rubbing your thighs as you attempt to ride him to any useful degree. “Is it what you wanted? When you thought about it, is it better?” he adds, pressing his hips up ever so slightly to meet your own as you drop down onto him, a louder hiss dropping from you at the added friction.

“Awww,” he coos teasingly as he watches the way you struggle on top of him. “Mommy's good at talking but not so good at taking it, huh?”

You're not proud of the way that sentence goes straight to your pooling arousal.

And just as quickly, Wooyoung pulls you off of him to switch you places, pressing your back to the mattress as he adjusts himself between your legs.

“I can come in you?” he asks suddenly, and it feels almost random, as if breaking scene in a film. So sudden that you almost don't catch it, but coming back to reality, you nod.

“Uh, y—yeah.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” he replies, leaning back down and pressing his chest into your own to kiss you — head of his cock teasingly dangling just against your pussy and occasionally grazing your sensitive clit, you press your hips up and into him in an attempt to make the contact that you want, Wooyoung chuckling devilishly against the skin of your chin and neck as you struggle to achieve what you set out for.

“Not as good at taking my cock as I thought you'd be,” he playfully pouts, lips attaching into the skin just at the juncture of your neck and shoulder to suck red and purple blotches into it. “But mommy, you were supposed to be so good.”

The tone in which the words drop from his lips, quite evidently mocking, playful, toying with you and the idea of the age play of it all. You knew that this was part of it for him, you had been warned.

But you didn't know it was going to do it for you, in addition.

“Guess we have to try again,” he whispers, lips trailing up a bit higher and just under your ear. “Probably better off if I'm in control, huh?”

With that, Wooyoung begins his slow drive into you once again — for a man that talks so much about your inability to take him, and being in control, you find his attention to your comfort almost surprising — not taking it quickly and giving you ample time to adjust to the intrusion even in spite of it not being the first time that night that you had taken him, once bottomed out, he settles for a few moments; kissing and sucking along your neck, along with babbling words of affirmation and encouragement all the while before pulling his hips back and slowly pressing forward once again.

The fullness of him is almost stifling, though — and paired with the fact that he won't shut the fuck up through it.

Five or six more delicate drives into you and Wooyoung begins to settle into a more fluid pace, rocking his hips against your own with hard impact but not entirely quick, every push of his cock into you more brutal than the last as he hovers above you and watches the way your face contorts with glee.

“Look at you, so good,” he groans in between snaps of his hips, hands flat against the mattress and on either side of your head to watch the way your cunt takes him. “Aww, I was wrong, you take my cock so well, I knew you would.”

Clenching hard around him with praise, your hands clasp around his arms, nails digging into the tan, hot skin with every drive of himself against you — the sound of wet skin against skin reverberating through your bedroom, and more than that, the sight of Wooyoung's bottom lip sucked up and between his teeth — arms and chest flexing with every movement of his hips.

The familiar feeling of your impending orgasm felt building once again at a particularly hard thrust from him, you cry out, catching his attention. Wooyoung slows, not entirely sure of how to take the sound, but is just as quickly met with your babbling and begging of him not to stop, to which he grins and resumes his rough pace into you.

Leaning down and wrapping an arm up and under your shoulder for more leverage to pull your body down and against him, chest to chest like this, Wooyoung continues his previous ministrations on your skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck, collar bones, jaw and mouth as he fucks hard into you — harder now with the positioning, you cry out again and louder even, much to his delight.

“Fuck, Wooyoung—“ you whisper against his mouth, feeling your orgasm threatening in the not so distant future.

“Yeah baby?” he coos back, so gentle in tone and completely opposing the brutality of the way he's fucking you. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me? Just from my cock, nothing else?”

You nod wildly, the way he's talking to you bringing you to the edge even faster — muscles tightening in your abdomen and losing the ability to verbally communicate to much extent at all.

“Good, good, you're so good,” he babbles into your skin, grip on your shoulder tightening even more. “Love it when you say my name, God you're so perfect.”

You whine, pulling forward to press your mouth into his shoulder just in front of you.

“Want me to come inside of you now? Make you mine? You know I want to so bad, want to fill you up so bad.”

Your insides twist at the way he's nearly begging to, despite already having been given the go ahead to do so. All a part of the game, you figure.

It's working, though.

You nod again, but Wooyoung brings his free hand over and to your clit, taking it between his fingers and thumb to force you into eye contact with him.

“Gotta say it, noona, can you say it for me?”

Your fingers dig into him harder, you're reaching inevitability much faster than you had originally intended with the way that he's talking to you, and the anticipation of just what it is he'll say next.

You knew he was gonna be a wild ride, but you didn't anticipate him to be this much of a freak.

“God, noona, please say it, please noona say you want me to come in you, I want to so bad.”

“Wooyoung, Jesus, I'm gonna—“

But he stills, cock buried deep inside of you as you whine at the loss of your incoming peak, shocked at the fact that he would do it.

You're not proud of your next step, either.

“Wooyoung, please, please, don't stop—“ you beg, trying to fuck yourself onto him in an attempt to reach your orgasm, and he does start a drive into you again, albeit much more delicate and less hearty than previous.

“Wow, so whiny,” he chides against your ear, shallowly thrusting into your soaking wet cunt with no intention behind it at all. “I'll give you what you want noona — thick, young, cock to come around, yeah?” he whispers, the words sending chills down your spine paired with the way that the tip of his length dips in and out of you teasingly.

“That what you want?” he whispers again.

“Yes,” you whine in response.

“Want me to come in you too, don't you?” he adds, nose nuzzling into the side of your face as he begins a proper push of his length back inside of you. “Fill you up? Pump a nice, hot load into your tight little cunt?”

It's the first time in the night that his dirty talk had been so lewd, so filthy. Slow drive of his cock back into you and even with the tiniest friction that it provides, just the words alone have you building back up to that place that only moments ago he had stripped from you just as quickly.

You'll do and say anything, now.

“Yes, Wooyoung, please,” you whisper, his hips snapping into you two, three times at the words. “Please daddy—“

The both of you stop as a point of both shock and confusion, neither expecting the word dropping out so suddenly, and not one typically on your repertoire, but Wooyoung seems to take it happily and in stride with an accompanying small giggle, quickly falling into the role that is required of him and driving hard against your hips at the pace once lost all over again — teeth baring against your cheek as he does so.

“Daddy? Well I wasn't planning on it but if you want it so bad,” Wooyoung grits out, reaching down with one hand and pulling one of your legs up and out. “I can fuck a baby into you, too. That why you want me to fill you up so bad? Want me to give you one?”

“Oh my God, Wooyoung, I—“ you groan, nails digging so hard into his skin that you fear you may actually hurt him, muscles in your abdomen tightening so suddenly, so hardly that it takes you by surprise — thick cock still pounding hard into you at an even better angle now, and Wooyoung begins kissing against your skin again.

“Feel so good around me, God, noona, come for me baby, milk me dry, wanna feel you come around my dick.”

muscles locking up, sound catching in your throat, your orgasm rips through your body with little more warning and nearly silently — stilling beneath the man as he continues to fuck you through your high, chasing his own and praising you through it as you do.

“Gonna come baby,” he groans at the impending orgasm of his own. Pulling up and off of you slightly he looks back down between the two of you before meeting your fucked out gaze again and screwing his own eyes shut. “Fuck, noona, fuck you full of me, God I'll ruin this pussy, yeah?”

Two, three more drives into you, Wooyoung buries his cock deep before stilling, head dropping as he growls through his release into you — gentle, shallow thrusts accompanying him as he begins to pull himself out of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he whispers as he finally expels his body from yours completely at the feeling of the overstimulation on his dick, flopping over onto the side of you and clenching his eyes shut for a moment as he attempts to steady his breathing in the aftermath.

Even having had more time to settle than him, you're not that much better off.

Silence takes the room beyond heavy breathing, you look over to take in the sight of the light sheen of sweat adorning the man's beautiful body, unsure if you'll ever even get the chance to enjoy this again — if you were to want to, that is. Wooyoung cards his fingers through black and gold hair, pulling most off of his slick forehead before turning to you to meet your gaze. Somewhat embarrassed upon having been caught looking at him, he only smiles gently, as if to tell you that it's okay. That the two of you are past such silly formalities, as it were.

“Hey,” you whisper, searching for his stray hand among the crumpled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“You're kind of a sicko, you know that?”

Wooyoung laughs, so much so and with such a dry throat that it sends him into a coughing fit as a result. You reach for a bottled water that you have on your nightstand and hand it to him for him to lubricate with, clearing his throat and handing the bottle back to you before attempting to respond to such accusations.

“Maybe so,” he finally says. “But you sure liked it. What's that say about you?”

“Who knows,” you reply, staring at the ceiling as if soul searching for the answers to such questions. “Maybe we're just particularly, disgustingly matched.”

“Maybe so.” Wooyoung nods, adjusting comfortably into the bed beneath him.

On the last day of filming, everything carries on as normal.

You're not entirely sure what story Wooyoung told the others as to why he never came home last night — having slept the rest of the night with you and the two of you having to devise quite the plan to leave from the same place and arrive to the same place without anyone being in on the pick up, but you figure that you manage with no bizarre or questioning looks upon your entry — and Wooyoung already seated and waiting, ready for you to begin to get to work on him.

As he ticks away on his phone, you lean down towards his head questioningly.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“What was I supposed to use?”

“Probably not the thing that smells like me?”

You watch in the reflection as he stops for a moment to mull the concept over, quite evidently having not thought about it prior to this moment, only to shrug and go back to typing on his phone.

After shooting wraps and everyone is saying their goodbyes, you thank the members and their staff for the warm welcoming and all of their help to make sure that the work environment was comfortable and smooth for you. For Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially — who you worked with most closely — the two hug you, sending you on your way, but not before Hongjoong makes some snide comment about finally being able to escape Wooyoung.

It was true, that you would finally escape the grip of that man, however, wanting to escape? You weren't so sure.

Gently tossing your belongings into the back of a taxi, you climb in and pull your seatbelt over you, reaching towards your purse and pulling out your phone to see what your next schedule would be for the upcoming weeks, only to find a text on your phone that had come in hours prior.

>big trouble: let me see you again (not just sex way)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

[honeycomx]

Late Night Tip (3:15)

Stiles Stilinski x Black!reader

This story will contain… Cursing, Drugs, Drug Usage, and Smut. PROCEED WITH CAUTION 18+

a/n: Stiles is a bit of an asshole in this but kinda not, if you understand his reasoning. Idk, it’s up for you to decide. Plus this take place after season 3b and before season 4. And Listen to 3:15 by Russ.

⇣

Stiles had a secret no one knew about, not even Scott. And that was you. Boy, did Stiles love him some you. Contrary to what many people believed, Stiles wasn’t virgin. Before he had first slept with Malia, he had his fun with you. You had that boy wrapped around your finger, and if it weren’t for you wanting to stay friends with benefits, he probably would’ve put a ring on your finger.

But now, Stiles was at point where he wanted to be in a relationship. He wanted someone he could claim as his other half and be by his side. It would’ve been you, but you made it clear you didn’t want that right now. But Malia did. In fact, things between the two were getting quite serious. Especially since a night ago while the two were having, protected sex, she blurted out that he was her boyfriend. Stiles wasn’t sure how to react, he told her he thought they needed to give it some time before they rushed into things considering they have only started hanging with each other two months ago. Despite what he said, He did want a relationship plus him and Malia had built a great rapport with each other.

That has led him to his current dilemma, Malia had decided to be home with her dad tonight, since he complained about her staying out too much and his father was currently sleeping after a hard day of work. It was 1:00 in the morning and Stiles was awake. He was seated in his gaming chair, headset halfway on, as his fingers constantly tapped against the keyboard. In the middle of his battle, his phone starting vibrating violently against his desktop. Pausing his game, he reached for his phone. His heart immediately started racing as he saw your name coming across the screen. He hadn’t heard from you in two weeks since your last encounter, that thought alone gave him shivers. He knew it was wrong, since he was considering him and Malia being together but his rationale was that he didn’t verbally agree to it yet. The angel on his shoulder told him to ignore it, it was better to leave it where it stayed. But the devil was tempting him like Eve and you were the apple. He sighed, shaking his head at his next move, he cleared his throat before pressing the green button.

“Hello?” He asked in the phone.

“Hi Mitchie! I missed you.” You answered gleefully, making his stomach flutter. In those two weeks of your absence, he definitely missed hearing your nickname for him.

“I missed you too baby girl.” He replied, making your stomach flutter now.

“Sorry, I kinda ditched you for a while. My cousins were staying with me and taking up all of my time.” You explained remorsefully, hoping he’d accept your reasoning.

“It’s fine. I was kinda caught up in some things too.” He responded coolly, making you sigh in relief.

“Are you busy right now?” You asked.

“For you, never.” He replied smoothly, making you giggle and kick your feet like a schoolgirl.

“Come over then. I’m home alone and could use some company.” You knew he would, every time you called he would answer and be there.

“I’ll be over in 15.”

“I’ll be waiting, Mitchie.” You stated seductively, before the line clicked.

Stiles sighed, feeling his groin twitch, he knew it was shameful for someone to get this kind of reaction out of him from just a few words, but with his clouded mind, he could care less. He was thinking with his other head. Stiles quietly ran to his bathroom to brush his teeth, he was grateful he took a shower not to long ago. He grabbed his cologne, spraying a few pumps before tucking his phone and keys into his pocket. He slowly creaked open his bedroom door, not wanting to disturb his father or alert him of his departure, before tip toeing down the hall then the stairs and out the front door, making sure to lock and close it softly behind him. He made his way to his prized baby blue Jeep, parked just across the street. He unlocked his door before getting in, cranking his loud car, hoping his father didn’t hear before peeling off in the direction of your home.

The trip to your house was quick, seeing as he could speed due to the empty road and it only being a 10 minute drive from his. He pulled into your empty driveway, signifying that no one was home. There were times where your father’s car would be parked there, but Stiles deduced that he might’ve been at work. Stiles cut his car off before shooting you a text letting you know he was outside. Stiles sat back in his seat, staring out in thought while waiting for your response.

His mind wondered between you and Malia. He didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone at all. He loved being around you, even if majority of the time it was during the night. It was the way he saw your eyes lit up every time you saw him, they way y’all naturally clicked, how y’all shared similar interests. It was like y’all were a perfect match, or that was what he felt like. But with Malia it was different, he knew they had different personalities and interests, it wasn’t bad though he was all for learning and teaching new things. He liked how possessive Malia was over him, something about that turned him on. He thought her nonchalant and some clueless words and actions were just adorable. He genuinely liked Malia as well. Plus, the Pack was familiar with Malia and knew they were messing around. He nervously thought about how they’d react if he randomly brought you around, especially Malia, despite you knowing him longer.

Suddenly a rapid knock came from the passenger window, making Stiles violently jump. He sighed in relief seeing your bubbly expression through the glass. He reached over to unlock the door.

“You scared the hello outta me.” He said, looking at you incredulously as you climbed inside his car. To which, you lightly laughed at, picturing his scared reaction once again. In the midst of you laughing, you failed to witness Stiles bite lip as his eyes roamed your thick curves and it’s attire. The baby blue satin pajama shorts you sported, were being consumed by full bottom. Your button up was opened at the top, giving Stiles a beautiful view of your inviting chest being secured by a black lace bra. You were going to be the death of him.

“Sorry Mitchie,” You state apologetically, oblivious to his intense staring. Your words snapped him out of his raunchy thoughts.

“I wanna try something with you.” You announced before digging in the pockets of your pajamas, fishing out a small baggy, fill with a green substance.

“What is that?” Stiles inquired, face scrunching as it’s pungent smell hit his nose.

“Weed, my cousin gave it to me.” You answered, holding up the baggy higher for him to see. He took the baggy from your hands, inspecting the crushed up substance closely,

“What do you wanna do with this?” He asked curiously. You gave Stiles a ‘really’ look.

“Obviously smoke it. I want you to do it with me.”

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He stated, shocked by the news.

“I don’t but I caught my cuz smoking and she let me hit it. She said it supposed to make you feel horny and it does. Afterwards, all I could think about was you,” You explained casually. Stiles couldn’t lie, his stomach did backflips when you said that, though he kept his composure.

“But I couldn’t do anything about it until they left but she gave me some to try with you and some papers to roll it in. She said it should be enough for one blunt.” You continued, now showing him the neatly folded, white rolling papers.

As much as Stiles’s curiosity was peaked, he was hesitant. The most he ever did was drink, he never did drugs before. Of course, as a high schooler, he had multiple chances to but ultimately never did, it just wasn’t his thing.

“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to, I just thought I would ask.” You reassured, sensing his hesitation. You didn’t mind if he didn’t want to, the last thing you wanted him to feel was pressured. You, however, were still were going to though.

Stiles thought about his decision, weighting his options. He settled on dismissing his uncertainty, before declaring, “Fuck it, let’s roll up.”

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“Come on we’re going to my room.”

You both were sitting out on the small couch of your furnished bedroom patio with a throw blanket tossed over you both, while smoking the blunt. Your back laid comfortably on the pillow against the rail, with your feet resting on Stiles lap underneath the covers. Stiles scrolled the twitter, while absentmindedly rubbing your feet. It was your turn to hit, you slowly inhaled, holding it in before releasing with blow. Stiles had stopped halfway way through the blunt, which didn’t surprise you due it being his first time smoking. Surprisingly he didn’t cough on his first time, which was shocking. You were new to it too but he seemed to handle it better than you, though both of you were equally stoned. You placed the roach blunt in the empty cup, you and Stiles used to dump the ashes. You were out of your body, feeling everything yet nothing at the same time. Stiles felt similarly, the weed lived up to your standards, he was high and horny.

“I’m definitely buzzed. What bout you?” He asked putting his phone away, turning to face you, only to find you already staring at him intensely, your eyes low and red.

“Me too.” You retorted, pulling your perfectly pedicured feet from him.

“I feel it but I’m feeling other things as well.” You uttered, sitting up on your knees, pushing Stiles back into the couch before you straddled his lap. His sizable hands rested on your hips. You avoided kissing him, wanting to work him up first. You traced kisses lasciviously to his collarbone. Stiles lightly moaned and shivered, feeling your luscious lips against his neck. His hands made their way into your blue satin pajama bottoms, he groaned, feeling the absence of your underwear.

“You ready to go back inside?” He asked, clearly captivated by your actions, he was becoming hard as a rock. You pulled away from his neck, pecking him on his lips before nodding. You climbed from Stiles lap, standing, holding out your hand, which he graciously accepted. You pulled Stiles with you inside, toward your bed. You sat down on the plush comforter, with an insatiable looking Stiles standing over you, awaiting your next move. You tugged Stiles closer by the pull strings of his pajama pants, as the other unbuttoned your top the rest of the way. Your amorous gaze never left Stiles the entire time. You shrugged your top from your shoulders, letting in pool behind you, showcasing your see through bra. Stiles’s heart thudded heavily in his chest as he watched you, feeling all his blood rush below. You were satisfying his carnal desires, in the most teasing way and he couldn’t take it anymore. You let Stiles push you against the bed for you to lay back. You giggled at his eagerness before you were silenced by his lips meeting yours. You opened your legs, allowing him to nestle himself between your thighs as he hovered you. You gasped feeling his hard girth rest against your pussy. Stiles took that opportunity to sneakily slip his tongue in, effectively deepening your kiss. Your hands slipped up his arms to wrap yours around his neck, carting your fingers through the back of his hair. Stiles groaned, pulling away from your kiss, giving you both a chance to breathe. You both stared at each other with this wanting look. Both of you seemed to silently communicate, it wasn’t long before your soft plump lips met his soft bowed ones. This time, Stiles lifted up, you felt his fingers ghost your sides, causing you to quiver at his light touch. His hands found the front of your shorts, he began tugging your snuggle short down. You pulled away from the kiss, lifting your bottom to helping him remove them. You mouth gaped as you watched him descend to your leaking mound, which was still covered by your lace undies. He eyes found yours, making your heart thud faster. You whined as his tongue glided gently over you clothed clit, as he tossed the pajama bottoms from around your ankles. You wanted Stiles badly, He had your heart feeling like it was imploding. But the way you felt was more than just sexually you loved Stiles, and you wanted to tell him. You weren’t sure if it was your intoxicated mind but you felt the need to tell him before y’all went any further. Just as he was to part your legs open,

“Wait.” You exclaimed, gently pushing Stiles away from you. You set up from the bed, anxiously watching as Stiles’s half naked stand over, he casted you a concerned look.

“What wrong?” He questioned, clearly confused by your shut off, he tell you were anxious, your leg started jumping. You eyed him, little did he know you fighting a battle in your mind. Your previous thoughts of Stiles being just a fling had blossomed into something more. You were infatuated with him, you were internally praying that he felt the same.

Going against everything screaming fiber and nerve in your body, you spouted out, “Stiles I like you.” Your eyes meeting his. He saw as your eyes glimmered with hope.

Those four words, made Stiles’s mental crack. As much as he wanted to hear those words before, they also made him panic now. He struggled deeply to collect these three words, but ultimately he felt like it was for your own good.

“Y/N I can’t.” He stated, his head hanging in defeat, his eyes avoiding yours. He was feeling were more conflicted than before, he hadn’t thought you actually like him back. It was like his wish came true but right now, considering his circumstances, he couldn’t accept it, not right now.

That spark you had, dwelled instantly and was replaced with sadness and embarrassment. A ache in heart begin to form, you, now, thought you read the situation wrong. You forced your tears back, masking the hurt like a pro.

“Stiles I understand if you don’t feel the same way but I just couldn’t take it anymore.” You confessed, swallowing the large lump in your throat.

“You told me you only wanted to be friends Y/N.”He reasoned, looking at you with a remorseful expression. Unknowingly to him, his reaction added fuel to fire, that is the ache in your heart.

“I know but I tried. I tried to convince myself and I tried to remind you that I wanted to stay friends but I couldn’t help it. The more we started to see each other, the less we started being ‘beneficial’ and more like friends, I started to feel things I shouldn’t have,” You expressed, ignoring the painful burn behind your eyes.

“The last time we were with each other and you spent the night with me was the last time I was supposed to see you Stiles because I fucked up. I fell for you, I went against my own words, I knew I wasn’t supposed to but I couldn’t help it. I tried to stay away from you Stiles but I like being with you. The way you are, the way you smile and laugh, they way you kiss me and hold me, it does something no one else can do.” You elaborated further, letting months of feelings off your chest. You words made the pit of Stiles stomach ache, he wanted to say so much but couldn’t. Stiles knew it was wrong to get with you in the first place, you pulled him so easily into your current, it swept him away. He would love to be with you but he couldn’t risk pulling you into something that’s hard to get out of.

“I can’t do this right now.” Stiles grumbled, going for his discarded shirt.

“Stiles wait,” You called out, standing to stopping him from gathering his belongings to leave. You knew it was stupid, but you wanted to feel Stiles one last time, even though it wasn’t the way you hoped.

“Now I know how you feel. I just want be with you one last time. Please?” You pleaded, looking to the floor, trying to suppress your shame.

Stiles’s mind was running a mile a minute. Part of him knew he shouldn’t have came here but ultimately he couldn’t have himself either. He knew he liked you way before you realized you liked him. He was in love from the start. But he liked Malia as well, plus Malia knew about the supernatural world, and could protect herself. Seeing what he caused with Allison messed him up, no matter what anyone told him, he felt guilty because sacrificing himself to the Nemeton was his choice and many innocent people had gotten killed for it even one of his friends. He wouldn’t be able to handle life well if he’d known he brought you into something that had gotten you hurt.

So he stood in these few moments staring at you with confused expression, debating whether he wanted to leave of not. This was his second chance before he made another mistake.

You stood there watching Stiles watch you with this unreadable expression, you could tell he was thinking. Part of you knew you were fucked up for asking him to be with you one last time, after spilling your heart out, but you couldn’t hold out any longer. Given the reaction for Stiles, you were certain he didn’t feel the same way. He loved you for your body, not you. Tears started to fall from your eyes as your head dropped further in shame, that seem to snap Stiles out of his train of thought.

“Y/N” He tried, walking towards you but you moved back. You watery eyes met his, and through your quivering lips, you stated,

“Just leave then Stiles. It’s better if we leave it off like this anyways.”

Before your mind could register anything, Stiles’s shirt was at your feet and his lips met yours. Your defensiveness instantly faded away, you melted like butter against Stiles, immediately accepting his passionate kiss. Your lips moved to together sensually, as Stiles backed you up against the door of your closet. Your hands latched to the lining of his jaw, as his hands clasped firmly onto your hips, pulling your bodies closer. You both wanted the same thing in this moment, and it was to feel each other, even if it was for the last time. You just wanted to pretend everything didn’t happen before this, you wanted to live in the moment, you wanted savor what you could from this situation.

You felt his tongue ease its way into your mouth, causing you moan. You willingly accept his actions, following his lead. Your hands trailed to his brunette strands, gently combing through them, as you both made out. Then Stiles pulled away, a single line saliva connecting your lips. You greedily followed his lips with a whine. You didn’t want it to end. Then you felt his palms on the sides on your face.

“Do you want this?” Stiles asked gruffly, his large hands cradled your cheeks as he wiped the stray tears from your face.

Not trusting your words, you nodded.

“I need words baby girl.” Stiles affirmed. Your teary eyes finally meeting his watery ones.

“Yes Mitchie.” You whimpered out, staring longingly at his bowed lips.

You and Stiles clothes were scattered across the bedroom floor. You laid on your back on the bed, with kneeling between your legs. You cried out in pleasure, as Stiles’s reddened lips, slurped hungrily against your clit. You couldn’t believe Stiles had you folded like this, your feet were at your ears, his hands was tucked firmly on the creases behind your thighs. You bottom poked out in the air, as Stiles devoured you like it was his last meal.

“Stiles.” You moaned, scratching at the messed up bedding beneath you.

Stiles groaned, sending shockwave through your body, he soaked up everything that leaked from you. Your juices covered in and around his mouth, he wasn’t sure if it was the weed making him this thirsty or you were but his flittering tongue never left your pulsating clit and his mouth didn’t stop drinking from your delicious fountain. The euphoric burn that settle in your lower stomach spread and intensified. You reach out, pushing against Stiles shoulders,

“Fuck Stiles, I c-can’t.” You whined, tears coming from your eyes. “‘S too much!” You slurred drunkenly.

Your cries fell on deaf ears as Stiles had released one of your thighs, letting your leg drop. You sharply gasped, eyes rolling, back arching high as Stiles ease his two digits into your sopping entrance. As he alternated between dragging his thick fingers against your walls to french kissing your clit.

“I-I’m cu-” You tried to warn him but it was too late. You started shaking, your vision whiting out, your moans and whimpers were caught in your throat. The intense feeling took over your body, causing you to lock up, your thighs squishing his head as your quenching essence flowed into his awaiting mouth. You were seeing stars as Stiles released you, watching as your bottom half flopped back to the bed. You were completely spent, your box braids had fell from it’s perfect bun, now flowing aimlessly from your scalp, your bronze skin had a glazed look from the layer of sweat that coated it. In your mind, Stiles had you looking an absolute mess but to him you looked stunning. It made him impossibly harder looking at how out of it you were.

Stiles hissed as he slowly jerked his painfully hard dick. Thick droplets of precum oozed from his angry red tip. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer, your fucked out expression, the way you moaned his name, the way you tasted had him stuck, like he had you.

He watched your dazed eyes meet his dark and lustful ones. Stiles placed a single kiss to your overly sensitive clit, making you twitch and whimper, before placing a gentle one to your full lips.

“You okay?” He asked, trailing sensual kisses along your rounded cheeks to your neck, all while layering his slender form overtop of your thick one, his arms cradling your head.

“Yes Mitchie.” You mewled breathlessly, arms wrapping around his neck. You were wondering how every little touch this man gives you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Good.” He placed one last kiss to your neck before sitting up. He placed your legs on his shoulder before pulling you to edge of the bed. You groaned, feeling his harden dick onto of your throbbing mound. You braced yourself, Stiles had this dark glint in his eyes, you had strong feeling he was going fuck up your feeling more than they already were. You held on tightly to the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white from the grip.

You shuddered, feeling Stiles drag his thickness between your slippery folds. It was seconds later that you felt his thick mushroom tip push into your hole, making you practically boneless as a shaky gasp left your lips. A strangled groan left Stiles lips as he tossed his head back in pure bliss, savoring the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He moaned. He pushed yours legs back further, hooking his arms underneath, pinning you down with his weight, sinking his thick harden inches fully into your saturated cunt.

“Stiles!” You wailed, clinging to his biceps, slightly clawing at them. The slow yet sudden intrusion, left you with a full feeling you couldn’t shake. He groaned loudly as your body graciously welcomed him.

His lips found yours in a fiery passion as his he set his pace, his restraint vanished. You felt his teeth gently tug at your lower lip, he way of telling you to open up to him, which you obliged. The sounds coming from the searing tongue filled kissed, as well as the small grunts and moans that escaped you both, were masked by the creaminess of your purring kitty. Stiles was feeding off of every sound you produced, the way you clung to him as he were going to disappear, all while he stuffed you full of every inch he had to offer.

Stiles broke the kiss, his redden half lidded eyes watched as you tried hang on as his hips speed up. You squeaked, eye squeezing shut from the overwhelming stimulation.

“Oh shit.” You weakly cried, parting your kiss swollen lips. You couldn’t breathe, the way Stiles’s heavy phallus consistently pummeled into you quivering soaked snatch left you unable to breathe. You whined, feeling Stiles at your neck, softly suckling and nibbling on your sensitive skin. You hands moved to grasp the back of his head, pushing him further into your neck. Stiles took the initiative to move his kisses down further to your bouncing breast, Stiles looked memorized by movement. Stiles arms moved from behind your legs, he guided them around his waist, his nimble pace never stalled. His hands gripped your bobbing tits harshly causing you to yelp. Your darkened areolas resembled the richest of chocolates to Stiles in that moment. He couldn’t resist greedily sucking them both in his mouth. Your back arched high from the bed, moaning, as you continued to cradle his head while he practically ‘fed’ himself from your ample breasts. His skillful tongue alternated between sensually fondling each of your hardened peaks, adding on to the immense pleasure he was already providing by deliciously pounding into you. He released the one in his mouth with a soft pop.

“You look so beautiful,” he rasped, trailing his kisses back to your exposed neck. You moaned weakly at his praise, it made the fervent feeling in your stomach spread.

“Taking me so well like a good girl.” He growled, grinding his narrowing into you. You mewled loudly, eyes shutting, at the feeling of his pelvis stimulating your clit, while he dug deeper into your velvety canal. The feeling that emerged strongly in your stomach had grew more fierce, the more he plunged himself deeply inside you.

“You’re a good girl. Right?” He voiced huskily, watching the aesthetic beginning of your debauched undoing. You were too out of it to give a full response, you could only muster a frail nod despite the grip of your arms and legs around his waist and shoulders tightening.

Stiles tsked, placing teasing kiss to your lips, wanting your attention back on him. You whined slightly, falling for his trap, your teary low eyes found his deep brown ones. “You know I don’t like that. I need words babygirl.” His pace slowed slightly, you knew it was his way telling you to speak or he’d stop.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered out quickly, not wanting him to let up. Stiles groaned feeling you squeeze him tightly.

“You’re my good girl. Aren’t you?” Stiles pressed further, watching you start to squirm. Stiles felt you clutch around him once again like a vice. You head shook from side to side, at the almost unbearable feeling of Stiles’s fucking into like his life depended on it. His words didn’t help either, you ignored the ‘my’ for own sake, not wanting to ruin this earth shattering moment. Instead you focused on reaching your impending high.

“Stiles please! I-I” You croaked before words had gotten caught in your throat. Tightening in your stomach finally snapped. You let a broken moan, tucking your head in the side of Stiles neck, as you drug your acrylic nails down the side of his bicep, clinging tightly as you trembled violent over the edge, body locking up.

“Shit!” You heard Stiles cursed through your muddled hearing. You felt an ungodly amount of slick gush from you, coating Stiles completely. He groaned continuing to fuck you through your release. You whined weakly, pushing against Stiles moving hips, causing him to stop. He watched you lay motionless beneath him, eyes shut and breathing heavily, completely spent from cumming.

You felt Stiles lips on forehead before he eased his hard on from you. You hissed at the feeling of him dragging himself against your overly sensitive walls. As weak and out of it as you were, you complied when Stiles asked you to turn over, he helped you do so.

“Ass up, baby girl.” Stiles commanded, tapping your behind. You feebly moaned, despite your exhaustion from your second mind blowing orgasm, you listened to his command. You grasped the sheets underneath, wearily resting your head on your arms, arching the middle of your back, poking your butt out.

Stiles groaned upon seeing how exposed and drenched you were. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he positioned himself at your heated entrance, and without a warning he pushed himself in.

You shuddered and groaned feeling Stiles ease himself into once again, stretching you to the brim. Stiles sighed seeing you greedily swallow him whole. Gripping your hips in place, Stiles started moving his slowly, giving you time to adjust.

You whined feeling Stiles, once gentle and slowed pace, start to gradually increase, his hips started battering against your pillowed bottom. Stiles grunted, his grip on your hips tightening, surely going to some bruising, as he fucked harder into you. The sounds of thunderous wet clapping, a mixture of pleasured sound coming from both you and Stiles, and the concerning rattling of your bed frame, echoed through your room.

Stiles peels one hand from your hip, to wipe his sweaty strands from his forehead. He moaned feeling you constrict tightly around his length. The tightness in his stomach grew with thrust of his hips, and from the way you start clenching around him and the heightened frequency of your melodic moans and loud pants, told him you were feeling the same.

He pressed his free hand in the middle of your back, deepening your arch. Stiles’s thrust became deep and erratic. He put his weight behind his thrusts as he leaned over you, groaning and breathing heavily in your ear. You squealed loudly, trying to push yourself from the intense feeling.

Stiles huskily chuckled in your ear, he leaned back up while gripping your hips, “Where you going?” Stiles asked, holding you tightly in place. You babbled aimlessly in response. He chuckled at your state. Your mind was clouded, you heard what he said but couldn’t respond.

Stiles hips didn’t falter as he gathered your braids into one hand, holding it in a ponytail. “Stiles!” You pleaded as he tugged you to your hands and knees by you long braids, pulling you back towards his thrusts.

“Come on sweetheart, you know what to do.” He stated, halting his movements. Immediately you started thrusting yourself back onto his length. “Fuckkk.” Stiles dragged out in ecstasy, as you fucked yourself onto him. The way your ass rippled like waves against his pelvic as you moved, building up a creamy froth around the base of his dick, as you cried out, head tilted back, in complete euphoria. To him, it was picture worth painting.

“Mitchie, I’m ‘bout to cum!” You keened, feeling the familiar burn twist in your lower stomach. Little did you know, he was too.

“Me too.” He rasped, gripping your cheeks tightly. He started meet your thrusts again, only this time his thumb started massaging your other hole. You gasped feeling his thumb caress your asshole, it sent a exhilarating tingle up your spine.

You both worked with each other, chasing your awaiting release. Stiles rutted faster into you, feeling his high coming on strong. He moaned loudly, as the knot in his stomach started to peak. You chased your orgasm like a bitch in heat, the volume of your moans grew, like the pending explosion in your stomach.

Stiles was close, too close. He wanted you cum first. His fingers found their way to your pulsing clit, gently stroking the sensitive nub, pushing you closer to the edge. You hummed in delight, feeling him stroke you closer to your peak in every way. Then, unexpectedly, the thumb he used to massage your virgin hole, eased inside of you, effectively opening your flood gate.

You wailed, feeling the burn in your stomach burst, your climax hit you like a freight train as your vision blurred out. Stiles cursed feeling you grip him tightly. Your gushing slick coated Stiles’s shaft, as you trembled from the magnitude of your orgasm. Your top half collapsed, not being able to hold yourself up any longer. Stiles panted loudly, erratically pounded into you, pursuing his brewing end, fucking you through your intense orgasm. You whine in overstimulation, the feeling of him dragging against your walls was starting to become too much, you needed him to cum, or you would surely pass out. You mustered up enough strength to move.

“Cum for me, baby,” You muttered softly, moving you hips against his to help him finish.

Stiles whimpered loudly, the flame in the pit of his stomach intensified. He was teetering over the edge.

“I want you to fill me up.” You whined, feeling him throb heavily inside your aching walls. That statement was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I-I” Stiles stuttered, unable to finish his sentence, before groaning loudly, his cum shooting in your canal in thick loads. You moaned tiredly, stop the movement of your hip, the feeling of Stiles seed permeating your walls made you quiver. Stiles shuddered before collapsing on your back, completely spent. Your body fell flat to the bed underneath his weight.

You both stayed like that for a while, trying to level your breathing. Stiles had softened inside you by the time, y’all breathing regulated. He lifted his sticky body from yours, his body feeling extremely weak and heavy, from either the weed or the mind-blowing sex you just had. Stiles could you body rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

“Y/N?” He called out, look at your face to see if you were awake. You weren’t, your eyes were glued shut as your mouth hung open slightly. Stiles smiled softly at your peaceful expression. He smile soon faded as he realized he fucked up with you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Everything that conspired this past year, has left Stiles’s damaged. He had trouble eating and sleeping, his mental health was deteriorating. Had he known going out in the woods that night would’ve lead him to these deadly consequences, he wouldn’t have went. All this started because of him, and he couldn’t regret it more. But you, you were his escape from it all, you were his peace. Whenever he needed to be away from all things supernatural, you were there to put him at ease. And as he stared at you, he felt guilty, tears started brewing in his eyes as he now realized, once again, that his actions have consequences. He felt like a fuck up. And those revelations made him realize he had to go. He couldn’t bare watching you be heartbroken over him.

You whimpered in sleep, feeling him ease his flaccid appendage from you. You didn’t feel the mixture of his spend and your slick, leak out of you. Stiles pushed away his egregious thoughts, he went to your attached bathroom, grabbing a fresh linen cloth and towel from the closet, making sure to wet cloth with warm water. He knew from the light snores that sounded from you, that you were out for the night. The least he could do was get you cleaned up. You didn’t even budge as he opened you legs and wiped you clean and patted you dry. Stiles was depleted on all levels, he just wanted to go to bed and try to forget all the bad. He fished his clothes from the ground, tossing on his Star Wars graphic tee, boxers, and pajama pants.

As he went to gather the rest of his belongings, the sound of his phone vibrating from pants made him reach for it. He finally looked at the time, it had been a little after 2 since he last looked at the time, It was 3:15 in the morning. She then looked at the message, it was Malia asking if he was up. He looked back at your sleeping form, guilt was starting to eat at him bad.

He sighed stuffing his phone back into his pocket, choosing to ignore her text. He started straightening up, making sure to lock your patio door, and clean up any evidence of y’all smoking. He slid your silk bonnet over your freshly braided scalp, he knew you’d be upset if you woke up to you hair being messed up. He also turn on the fan, knowing you get hot at night. He glanced at your sleeping form, longingly before placing one last kiss to your forehead while covering your nude body with your blanket.

He gathered his keys and slipped on his shoes before making his way out of your home, securing it, then getting in his car, driving away like a thief in the night…

⇣

Please be nice, this is my first time writing smut so I hope I did well and excuse any mistakes I didn’t see👍🏾. Anyways, this post will a receive an update, which I already started writing. So part 2 coming soon…

#stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x black!reader #x black!fem!reader #x black!reader angst #x black!reader smut #teen wolf smut #x black plus size reader #x black reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf imagine

[linphd]

Getting caught in their room | NSFW Headcanons

gender neutral

-> As someone bursts in their room, they find you in their bed in a rather surprising situation. Obviously, all the characters are now in 3rd year.

-> Neito Monoma, Hitoshi Shinsou, Katsuki Bakugou.

Neito Monoma

Somehow luckily for you, you were in the 3B building and not Monoma in yours. Sure, he had been the one stupid enough to leave the door unlocked, so when Tetsutetsu walked in to ask to train with his friend, he was the one discovering you almost naked.

His scream obviously attracted others. Monoma quickly arrived -he had gone to Setsuna’s room to get some answers for homework he hadn’t done- and rushed everyone out of his room, telling you he « would get Shinsou involved so they forget. », « I… don’t think he can do that. » you replied.

You weren’t dating him. You just thought hatred made sex exciting and it had been a few months those several years of not standing him were finally benefiting you. So yeah, getting caught as -obviously- Neito Monoma’s booty call wasn’t really nice for you.

Surely he still had something done, because everyone in your class seemed unaware of this situation. It’s only when Shihai, during a joint training within the hero branch, after a little remark from the blonde, spat : « Ah ! At least I don’t sneak at night in campus to get laid. » that you got scared.

Monoma dropped his usual grin, looking genuinely confused. « I… don’t know what you’re talking about ? » making even Shihai disturbed. You checked the rest of 3B, and only a few of them glanced at you and then acted like nothing had happened. Well, surprisingly, Monoma was rather trustworthy with all of this !

Hitoshi Shinsou

It’s actually Denki that entered Shinsou’s dorm uninvited. You were usually very careful, never staying late in his room and him always locking the door. But it was New Year’s Eve, and you were both drunk and not careful the night prior.

You both jumped at the loud noise, waking up as Denki started to scream « HAPPY NEW Y- ohhhhh, you already spent a happy new year, I see…. » he giggled. « Fuck off. » sighed Shinsou, checking if you were still covered enough despite the fact he had pulled the blanket towards him.

« Oh my God, now I’m curious- » the blonde started. « Of course ! » you sighed as well. « Has it been going on for long ? » Shinsou nodded. « Are you guys dating ? » he added. « Uhhhh… not really ? We just don’t see anybody else. » you replied. « Ah ! So you date but don’t wanna say it. » the blonde commented.

Obviously, the noise attracted everyone walking by, unfortunately for Shinsou and you, both still naked under the blanket. « It makes sense. » Kirishima stated. « So much sense ! » Denki added. Sero started to imitate you « Oh, Shinsou, you became so much stronger ! Ohhhh, your quirk is so impressive ! »

Denki added another commentary to Sero’s impression : « When they were sucking his dick they were doing it for real too ! » All the boys laughed, making Shinsou throw a pillow at them -despite being rather amused. « Now get out so I can finally dress up. » you said, making them rush out.

Katsuki Bakugou

Obviously, you were the one dumbass leaving the door unlocked. First thing Kirishima said was « makes sense » when he saw you laying there, under the sheets, obviously naked, while Katsuki was brushing his teeth.

He immediately called the rest of the Bakusquad, each of them less shocked than the other. « That’s why his room was forbidden ; so we wouldn’t walk on (Y/N) naked. », « Ohhhh that’s why they have privileges and can make fun of him without consequences. », « Elementary my dear Sero, the consequences are in bed. » Mina added.

« CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP AT ONCE ?! » Katsuki yelled from his bathroom, not seeming really surprised at the discovery -still furious though. « That’s why you’ve been so calm compared to our 1st year. You didn’t grow up, you just weren’t a frustrated teen anymore ! » Denki commented.

« Sooooo…. Y’all have been dating since when ? » Mina asked. « Yep, surely not Bakugou would have a booty call. Now, spill the beans. » the blonde added. You sighed. « Since the beginning of this year. Now get out so I can change. » you replied, making them all leave.

However, you didn’t know that Katsuki’s behavior was just a facade. As soon as you went to shower, he stepped out of his room and exploded each of his friends’ face, making Denki dumb in the process. A few threats and explosions later, the whole rest of the school is still unaware of your relationship.

#bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #katsuki bakugou x reader #neito monoma #monoma neito #monoma neito x reader #neito monoma x reader #monoma x reader #neito x reader

[sanspuppet]

GENRE: fluff, smut w a lot of romance (?)

PAIRING: Heesung x afab! reader

W/T: university au, lil bit of jealousy, unprotected sex, biting, swearing, pet name (princess)

A/O: i know that Hee doesn’t have much to do with my blog but this is the ff i wrote for my bestie and i’m just gonna post it so yeah, remember that i’m a multi-stan so i write for many other groups apart from ateez

enjoy <3

———

"come on! it'll be fun!" Jeongin tries to encourage you, his hands begging at your pissed expression because of his hundredth attempt to invite you at his party.

"i don't want to! i don't know anyone of your friends" you reply back with a sharp tone, it’s almost a week that he keeps asking you to come, and he can’t comprehend that you have no intention to go.

"Oh yeah! there's one: Heesung! that guy from class 3B" he winks at you with a smirk already trailing on his face.

"Another reason not to go there!" you quiver, body stiffening the same second he pronounces his name. Actually, if there’s Lee Heesung too, you could think about it a couple times and accept. Through all, he’s the finest man at your university, no doubts he’s your secret crush, well not that secret because it seems that Jeongin has already found out.

"But it's a good opportunity to talk to him!" his voice booms inside the classroom, all of your classmates turn back to look at you, your professor violently slams his palm on the desk: "You two! Better keep those mouths closed during my classes!" you hush a quick "excuse us" before turning back to focus on algebra.

Hours later, when the last school bell rang, you leave the university, arm crossed while walking down the street, with Heesung's smile pictured in your mind and dangerously lost in yourself while fantasizing about him. The stoplight turns red, which unfortunately you don’t pay attention to, you’re about to cross the road when someone thoughtfully grabs your waist, fingertips gripping at your skin, trying to stop you. Your heart flutters intensely, goosebumps on your body as you hear a familiar voice beginning: "you should pay more attention while walking" oh no, you perfectly recognize that voice, sweet but at the same time extremely attractive, you can’t help but turning your face to look at him, panic already flowing into your body. "U-uhm... sorry" Heesung smiles for a millisecond before turning back to his serious expression: "you don't have to be sorry, just wanted to warn you darling" maybe how he called you is the reason why you keep stuttering and trembling like a shy kiddo: "Y-yeah..." you suddenly grimace, confused: "w-why are you here?" you question. "Oh, you didn't notice? i live near your house" you mouth a small "o" before you could even realize what he actually said: "Wait- what?!" he blinks twice, his hands involuntarily still gripping at your waist, a strange feeling intensifying inside the core of your stomach. “i. live. near. you.” he repeats, marking every word, not in a arrogant way, but in a beamy one. When he realizes that you aren’t going to say anything, he approaches you with an another argument: “Well, wanna walk together? I.N. told me that you’ll come at his party” you wide your eyes, following him hesitantly as he crosses the road. “What? No! Nono i don’t like that kind of party” He raises an eyebrow:

“…what kind of party do you like then? like a… uhm” he bemuses, you shake your hands, trying to clarify: “No! I mean… I’m the only girl in the group and i’m quite worried about it” when he turns his head to face you, you can’t believe he purposely holds your hand. “I understand, don’t worry! You know i wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right? Such a good girl, you don’t deserve to get into that kind of shit” you can hear your heartbeat booming inside your head, mind blank as you keep repeating his last sentence to yourself, barely capable to think at any reply. “Please, i want to know you better! Come with me, and you’ll be sure no one will make fun of you, or touch you in any way” he insists, tightening the grip on your hand.

okey, are you dreaming? are you in a coma, after a car invested you? What the hell is happening? All of your day dreams about him seem becoming reality as he’s begging you to accompany him. You’re not conscious of your blushing state in this moment, smiling pathetically, lost in yourself as you’re trying to realize your current situation. And you finally cooe: “Well, if you say so… i’ll be more than glad to come!”

Heesung raises a fist happily: “That’s my girl! i mean… happy to see you again y/n” he stops in front of a small, cute little house. He sighs, taking a heavy breath before continuing: “i live here… alone, so if you need something, you can find me here.” you bow slightly, smiling uncontrollably. “Got it! See you at the party, then.” He keeps staring at you without leaving: “What? So i’m not gonna pick you up?”

“Oh… uhm, yes! yes, sure. Sorry” you beam back.

“Okey, shall we share our phone numbers?” he asks, taking his phone in his hands, ready to take notes. When you’re both sure that the other has the contact saved, Hee shakes his hand and heads towards the door of his home.

The evening of the same day, you can’t help but keep fantasizing about how would it be to spend hours with Heesung at your side. Having him that close to you, would probably drive your mind nuts, but what if he was talking seriously hours before? He seriously wants to get to know you better? Well, if so, you’d surely go to that party. Knowing that it’s quite easy to convince you in anything when it comes to Heesung, you already start choosing what to wear at the party of the next day.

“Mmm” you scratch your chin, looking at your dresses hanging inside your wardrobe. “What should i-“ the loud sound of your ringtone makes you suddenly hop. You check the name written on the screen, snorting when you see the name of your best friend.

“What do you want?” you tilt your head to squeeze your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking your favorite dresses and throwing them on your bed.

“You’re coming?!! God, you fucking drool for Heesung, don’t you???” you hear Jeongin beaming through the speaker.

“Me? No, no absolutely.” you find yourself staring intensely at one dress in particular: the fabric of a soft white, its skirt’s quite short and has elegant lace sleeves. You choose that one, while keep listening to Jeongin freak out from happiness.

“Well, whatever. You’re gonna come too!!!” he starts to giggle joyfully.

“Yeah, now please calm down. Also, i have to go now, bye!” you end the call without even waiting for him to say anything else. The only thing you want right now is staring at the selfie of Heesung that he has set as his profile picture. So you did, laying on your bed, after putting carefully in place your dresses again.

“Ooh… he’s such so handsome and cute”

You whimper seeing the notification of someone texting you appearing from above the phone screen. A pang hits your heart when you realize it’s Heesung.

< Hey, tomorrow the party begins at 6 p.m. Imma pick you up by 5.45, is that okay? >

You smile like an idiot while texting back: < Perfect! >

That night you fall asleep, lost again in the thought of his cherishing smile and how simply gorgeous he always is.

And as soon as you do, as soon you wake up, squeezing your eyes from the warm light of the sunrise. You suddenly grip at your hair, your heartbeat starts accelerating as you process: “The party is today!”

Now that you have realized it, you can’t stop waiting impatiently for afternoon to come. You force yourself to distract your mind, doing chores and your homework, listening to music and practicing the dance steps you learned at your last dance lesson. Doing that you don’t even feel the hours that have passed, making you bounce slightly on the spot as you read what time it is.

“God i have to get ready!” you jolt while running towards your bathroom, starting to do your makeup. You keep checking the time on your wristwatch, and once you have your look done and prepared all the stuff you’d need, you leave the house and chuckle shyly as you see Heesung standing in front of his car a few meters apart from you.

“Hi y/n! How are you?” He approaches you, giving you his hand to help you get inside of his car.

“Pretty fine” you affirm after he joined you inside it.

The short journey was something you could define totally embarrassing, you were frustrated because you couldn’t do anything but stare outside the window and tap nervously your fingertips on the handle. He was the one that after some minutes that seemed eternal hours find the courage to speak:

“Uhm… that dress is so beautiful, matches your vibes a lot” he turns his head to take a quick look of you before his gaze could go back at the road. “Thank you, Heesung” you smile genuinely. He giggles back: “Oh please, just call me Hee. We’re friends after all, right?” what your previous smile seemed full of happiness, it quickly turned into a wounded one. “Yeah… friends”

———

Once you enter the apartment, you didn’t expect it to be so well organized: cute colorful balloons fill the living room, yummy snacks all over the table followed by soda and other drinks, background music to keep the welcoming atmosphere. When you step out the entrance you immediately see Jeongin’s friends casually chatting on the small couch.

“Naur way look who’s here!” Jake exclaims as he notices your figure standing in front of them. You chuckle at his funny Aussie accent.

“Yeah personally i know you couldn’t wait anymore to see me” Heesung smirks, heading towards Jeongin who’s trying to inflate other balloons. “Hyung i think these are enough, yeah?” he whispers at him, noticing his red, overworked cheeks.

Jake turns his head to look at Hee, grimacing: “What? No i meant y/n! Didn’t expect you to come” He approaches you, with the intention of hugging you friendly. After he pulls away, the other boys stand up to do the exact same. You thank Jay, Chan and Beomgyu as they compliment your curated look.

You spent a couple hours on watching a comedy show and laughing together. Your body stiffened any time you felt Heesung’s hand resting (apparently) innocently on your knee, when you saw him facing you while giggling as he enjoyed the film, it seriously looked like you were a couple, and you weren’t the only one who noticed that:

Chan’s gaze suddenly went to your knee, as he saw Heesung rubbing his hand on your skin.

“Are you hiding us something, guys? Seems like you’re very comfortable together.”

Chan’s your ex, so you could tell that his voice had some point of annoyance when he spoke.

“Yeah! I was about to say the same thing” Beomgyu smirks, moving his eyes on you and the fine guy who’s sitting next to you.

“Oh, it does? Sorry if i might stole her from you” Heesung appeals with his cocky smile.

“It’s not up to you, Hee” Chan replies, a slight look of arrogance on his face surprises you. “Right, y/n?”

“Uhm… well…” you struggle to find any appropriate answer, but nothing comes to your mind. Jeongin fortunately saves you from that embarrassing situation:

“Let’s play a game!” He stands up, turning off the tv. Jay and Jake that were still focusing on the program, whined at him.

“Fine” Heesung stands up, searching for your hand and heading towards Jeongin. A smirk pops into the childish friend’s face, he crosses his arm looking intensely at the both of you through his hooded eyes.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”

The moment after the other guys heard that iconic question, every one was sitting on the rug in a circle, waiting for their turn as they joined the game. It was quite fun, most of the dares were hilarious that got you almost rolling on the floor from laughter, but once it got repetitive and your friend seemed bored, Jeongin once again proposed you:

“Y/n, truth or dare?” this time his gaze is mysterious enough for you to suspect he planned something.

“Uhm… dare?” you murmur, not sure if you chose the right answer to keep your dignity.

“I see” Jeonging looks straight at Heesung on your left, before moving his gaze on you again. “Kiss Heesung”

Loud “Uuuh” fill the atmosphere as the guys find finally a captivating idea, everyone but Bangchan, who seems about to kill Jeonging with his stare and choke Heesung before he could touch you.

Panic starts to rush inside your veins as you turn your head and see Heesung smirking, you can feel the eyes of all the others stuck on your lips, waiting impatiently for you to make a move, but nothing, you couldn’t even elaborate any conscious movement. You’re like a greek statue, immobilized, your eyes focusing on nothing but Hee’s lips, your hand standing steady on the ingenious intent of wrapping it around his waist. Heesung chuckles: “y/n? are you’k?” he snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

What it took least than two seconds, felt an entire minute for you.

You feel Heesung carding his fingers through your hair, before falling on the nape of your neck to pull you closer to his face, the tip of your noses rubbing against each other as he’s moving his lips closer and closer to yours. It felt warm, and soft, something you never experienced in that way, you could immediately tell that you would be addicted to his lips, if only he could be yours.

Heesung pulls away, exhaling a soft laugh as he holds your hand. “You good?” he asks, you nod: “Yeah. Yeah i’m good” you murmur, smiling a little before turning your head to face the others. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay an Jeongin are hyping the both of you, on the other side you can notice Chan squeezing his fists as he keeps staring at you. “What’s wrong with him?” you question yourself.

Jeongin giggles at you and Heesung: “I meant a peck on the cheek but well, this proves that you like each other! Thank me later guys” he stands up, taking the bowl of chips and starts to chew a few.

“W-wait- What?” your mouth hangs open, while Hee is simply smiling at you.

The rest of the party went great, you had funny conversations and ate tasty food.

Later, you head towards the exit, where you left your jacket and phone, you barely even check your new notifications, that you feel a hand resting on your shoulder, you expect it to be Heesung and uncontrollably smile, but once you turn your head to see his face, you find yourself a few inches away from Chan. He’s moving closer to your lips to steal a kiss from you. You pull him away, smacking your palm against his face.

“What the hell are you doing? Huh?” you screech.

“Come on, don’t act like you don’t want it, we were so perfect as a couple, you look better with me than Heesung” He gets closer to you slowly once again, but you’re too concerned to move. You jolt as you see someone pulling Chan away from you by grabbing his shoulder.

“What’s going on here?” Heesung looks at you before moving his annoyed gaze to Chan. “Why would you care?” he replies, with his arms crossed.

“Because she just rejected you a few seconds ago, don’t you get that she doesn’t like you anymore?” you can’t articulate anything before he wraps his arm around your waist and yell at the others in the living room.

“Guys, it was fun but now i have to take y/n home, see you on Monday” Heesung takes your jackets and leaves the house with you squeezed in his arm.

Not long after he stops in front of his house, you’re still confused from why he reacted like that before, you don’t realize that it isn’t actually your house. Heesung gets out of the car. “Come with me” he called you, heading towards the door.

Once you’re both inside, he turns to look at you, taking your hands in his. “You’re not interested in Chan anymore, right?” you nod: “Yeah, i’m not.” he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because i like you” you start to mumble incomprehensible words. “U-uhm…” Heesung notices that your cheeks are turning into a blushing state, making him chuckle. “You don’t need to say anything, just kiss me already, okey?” he slowly approaches you, getting closer enough for you to feel his warm, deep breaths against you nose, his hands are trailing soft lines on your back, sending you shivers down your spine. You automatically raise on your tiptoes, holding yourself onto his shoulder. You start to leave small pecks on his hot lips, struggling to stop because of the warm feeling of his body. Hee chuckles between every kiss: “i see, you love me, don’t you?” you giggle against the crook of his neck: “Yeah, so much.”

“May i take care of you? Show you how much do i love you, too?” he leans over you neck to inhale your sweet scent. “Mark you as mine, so you won’t get bothered by other guys?” you take a few seconds to realize what he actually meant with those words. “Uhm… i don’t know…” He caresses your cheek, attaching his lips on yours another time. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Please, let’s be each other’s first” You chuckle: “I can’t believe you’re still a virgin” he wides his eyes, smiling: “Why?? I had only a girlfriend when i was 14, you’re the one i fell for, after a long time.” you bite your lower lip, looking down to avoid eye contact. “It’s just that… i’m worried i won’t be good enough” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he walks backwards, heading towards what you figure to be his bedroom. “You’ll be perfect as always, my little princess” you can’t help but blush at that new petname, that stole another smile from you. A few seconds later he’s opening the door with you still holding at his waist. He sits on the edge of the mattress, looking up at you with doe eyes. You suddenly get shy as you realize that you started unconsciously to strip, hiking up slowly your dress as you expose your bare legs and stomach to him, the man that you craved for three years. He holds himself on his wrists, watching carefully every detail of your body, already struggling to contain any reaction from his body. “Oh god, you’re so beautiful” he murmurs, biting his cheeks to avoid any flustering sound. You jump onto his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, Hee starts to kiss you deeply as you busy yourself by unbuttoning his shirt. Your tongue dives into his mouth, while trailing your hands all over his naked chest. You push him, getting him completely layed on his bed. You’re still asking yourself where did you find enough confidence to do all of this, when you bite on his neck, smirking against his red skin. “Untie it, Hee” as soon as he hears you, you feel your bra falling off of your body, hearing it thrown on the floor. Heesung grabs your waist, forcing you to switch your positions. You see his unmistakable smirk glued onto your face, but it doesn’t take long before he moves it down your breast. “Are you sure you’re ready, princess?” he asks you, caressing your waist side. “i trust you” “Glad you do, baby” he stands up, untying his belt before unzipping his jeans. Not long after he throws them on the floor, then focuses again on nothing else but you. Hee leans over you, making his way down your body with small kisses, once he reaches your lower abdomen, he slowly drags you panties down your legs. “So pretty, tell me…” he stops by biting slightly on your hips. “Want me to wear a condom? I’m clean, just to let you know.” you shake your head. “I’m too, and on a birth control” Heesung nods, positioning himself between your wided legs. “Got you” you breathe heavily, when you watch him dragging down his boxers, inhaling the air deeply to force yourself to slow down your heartbeat. You squeeze your eyes when you get to see his cock standing between your wet core. It’s just about a few seconds that you finally feel him burying himself inside you. He lets out a sweet groan, holding his breath when you involuntarily squeeze around him. “Fuck, didn’t expect it to be this good” he slowly pulls out, trying to feel every sensation. “Do you like it?” He watches your aroused face. “Yeah, please, go on” You watch him smirking through your eyelashes. “Didn’t hear you, may you repeat darling?” you sigh, smiling. “Huh, please i want you”

Heesung holds onto your knees, making sure you stay spread for him, while he slides into you another time, then out, repeating the same movements as he speeds the pace. You try to stay still, gripping harshly at the sheets beneath you, your eyes roll back as you feel him touching your sweet spot with every thrust.

“Fuck- just like that, please” you mewl, letting out whimpers when the pleasure builds tension inside your lower stomach.

He moans back once. “Never thought you could make such sweet noises.” he smiles, eyes shut as he feels himself getting closer to his climax. Surely the way you keep clenching around his length doesn’t help him to last longer, and surely the fact that his tip’s kissing your g-spot continuously from minutes is getting you to the edge very quickly. You let out a broken, high pitched moans when you feel pure arousal hitting your body, making you arch your back from pleasure. “Fuck- faster, now!” he does immediately as you say, slamming his pelvis against your thighs gap as fast as he can, the sound of your skin slapping against each other’s booms inside the room, followed by nasty, squelching sounds at every pump. Heesung leans over you to help himself thrusting into you better. “So close~ cum for me princess” Your breathe loudly, as soon as you cream around him you feel hot ropes of his cum shooting inside you. His thrusts become sloppy when he slows down, pulling out after a few more pumps.

“You’re so beautiful right now, all fucked out because of me, i think i like you better like this.” he leans over to steal another deep kiss, his hands reaching instinctively your bare breast. “You did so good for me, you need a treat babe” you smile the best you can, still trying to get down your high. “Like…?” Heesung leaves a small peck on your right cheek. “What about a warm bath? I said i’m gonna take good care of you.” he cards his fingers through your hair, caressing your forehead.

“Will you let me do it forever?”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen povs #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen #heesung smut #heesung fluff #heesung fanfiction #heesung imagines #heesung headcanons #heesung scenarios #heesung hard hours #heesung hard thoughts #heesung povs #heesung fic #kpop enhypen #kpop enha #kpop smut #enha smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

[mostlysignssomeportents]

No True Apple User (transcript of a Twitter exchange)

Benedict Evans: Different people prefer different trade-offs. The important thing is to understand that these are mostly trade-offs - and about one and a half billion people like the trade-offs that Apple makes

My reply:

Before Apple offered one-click opt-out from FB tracking in iOS, it could have been argued that Apple users like Facebook's "trade-off." After all, they all signed up for FB and kept using it. But once there was an opt-out for surveillance, >96% of Apple users took it (and FB lost $10B in the first year). 

FB offered a bargain, and Apple helped its users make a counteroffer. That's a common practice in tech, as old as the first third-party drive for an IBM 360.

This practice (“adversarial interoperability“), greatly benefited Apple in the past, e.g., when Apple reverse-engineered MS Office's file-formats for  iWork, reversing losses due to the poor compatibility between Win Offce and Mac Office.

MS would have argued that the legions of users defecting from MacOS for Windows in order to enjoy high-reliabliity interchange between Office docs preferred that trade-off - yes, users liked MacOS, but they liked reliable collaboration more.

iWork revealed this trade-off for the false choice it was: you could use MacOS and you could reliably exchange files with Windows users. 

In other words, you could bargain.

Trade-offs without bargaining don't reveal users' preferences (what they'd like in the best of all worlds). Rather, they tell us about users' tolerance. 

Users would tolerate Windows as a condition for reliable collaboration. They'd prefer MacOS and reliable collaboration.

iOS  users would tolerate Facebook spying on them via their iPhones, but they'd prefer to use Facebook on iOS without being spied upon.

Which explains why FB has gone to such enormous lengths to present take-it-or-leave offers to its users - it knows that the company's preferences are totally disconnected from its customers' preferences.

FB would prefer to spy on you with every hour that god sends, and make this surveillance a precondition for participating in the community, family life, civics, and commerce that lives inside its walled garden.

FB users would like to do all those things...and not be spied upon.

And because it is always technically possible to make tracker-blockers, ad-blockers, alternative clients, etc, the only way FB can win that  contest is to make it illegal for users to get their way.

For example, FB can entice, funnel or coerce its users into primarily interacting with its services via apps. Because apps are encrypted, they can't be lawfully reverse-engineered and altered without risking "anti circumvention" liability.

You can make an ad-blocker for the web because you don't need to bypass a technical protection measure to block web-ads. But do the same thing for apps and you risk a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine.

Apple is an enthusiastic proponent of this regime, because  it's the primary means by which the firm prevents third parties from offering rival app stores.

Apple's argument is that having a legal right to decide which software its customers can install allows it to act as its customers' proxy. If Apple can override the choices made by its users, it can prevent them from making bad choices.

Moreover, Apple can bargain with large firms whose take-it-or-leave-it offers would otherwise impose hardship on its users. An individual user who objects to FB spying is out of luck.

But Apple can say to FB, "We have blocked spying, and your only choice is to leave the app store altogether, or suck it up." In other words, Apple can give FB the same take-it-or-leave-it treatment that FB imposes on 3b users, which is a delicious irony.

Hearing FB squeal that Apple is exercising its market power - derived from the fact that billions of people can only be reached by subjecting oneself to the conditions of Apple's walled garden - to harm FB's interests is such a sweet bit of comeuppance.

But the sweetness has a bitter core, because Apple also spies on iOS users, even those who opt out of app-based surveillance, in exactly the same way that FB does, for exactly the same purpose (ad targeting) - and they deceive their users about it.

And, like FB, Apple devotes enormous lobbying efforts and legal resources to increase the legal risk of allowing users to express their preferences (as opposed to just their tolerance) for Apple's trade-offs.

If Apple users preferred to be shut out of  shopping around for app stores, or if they preferred to only get their devices repaired at official, Apple-sanctioned repair depots, or if they preferred to be blocked from using refurb parts, Apple wouldn't have to do anything. It could save millions of dollars in engineering and legal bills.

 But Apple behaves as if it believes its users strongly prefer to have more choice, even if they'll tolerate less choice.

Now, there's a "No true Apple user" rejoinder to this argument: "You knew when you bought an iPhone that it came shackled to Apple's commercial imperatives, which could be enforced through legal action by wielding the DMCA, patent, copyright, CFAA, tortious interference, etc. If you didn't like it, you could have bought an Android device, or no device at all.“ 

But that same argument can (and was) made by FB, to Apple: 

"Those users for whom you blocked our surveillance knew the deal: sign up for FB, get spied on. No one forces anyone to sign up for FB. You can use Mastodon. Or you can just use FB on the web only, and run tracker/ad blockers. They may have preferred surveillance-free socializing, but they tolerated the 'trade-off' of being spied on."

Apple has repeatedly demonstrated that it is an imperfect proxy for its customers' interests. And Apple behaves as if it believes that its users strongly prefer a different trade-off, and takes heroic measures to prevent anyone from doing unto Apple as Apple did unto MS and FB.

Firms are neither intrinsically good, nor are they intrinsically evil. They respond to incentives and constraints. The possibility that users might bargain back against a proposed trade-off makes those proposed trade-offs fairer, on average.

If a firm knows an obnoxious course of action will trigger users taking a step to block, reconfigure, or modify some or all of its products and service, it has to weigh those costs against the expected parochial distributional benefits from imposing bad trade-offs on its users.

Firms that aren't subject to discipline from user defection, modding, etc, are prone to folly - they arrogantly overreach. Users experience harms as a result, and it's only when those harms accumulate to the point where tolerance for the 'trade-off' runs out that the harm ceases.

Preferences are revealed by user conduct, sure - but the extent to which a preference can be revealed is limited by the extent to which it can be technologically expressed.

A world in which there are extensive legal restrictions on users expressing their preferences is a world in which successful trade-offs tell us little about users' preferences.

And a firm that goes to lengths to expand and invoke those legal restrictions tells on itself, revealing its own secret belief that it is imposing a trade-off on its users that the users would gladly jettison... if they could.

ETA: Evans replied:

Sending over two dozen tweets is not good faith engagement in a conversation - rather, this is what in other contexts is called a Gish Gallop.

Meanwhile, it's almost about FB and Windows. This is deflection and whataboutery. I made one very specific point about the trade-offs between security and flexibility on the iPhone. Those trade-offs are real - that is not debatable. The only debate is which to choose.

[Image ID: An Apple 'Privacy. That's iPhone.' ad. The three rear-facing camera lenses have been replaced by the staring, red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.]

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

[rd0265667]

Wonyoung x Reader: Back to you

Pt 2 of Tonight

Part 3a~Part 3b

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon@justme-idle

"Wony, we need to talk." You whispered, talking to the exhausted girl laying on your chest

"Can we do it another time? I'm beat." Wonyoung barely muttered out, her head thudding onto you as you sighed, lightly patting Wonyoung on her back as you felt her breath slow to a steady pace

It's been 3 weeks since you came back to Wonyoung, 3 weeks since you decided to stay for one more night. One night turned to another, then for the week, then 3 weeks. Wonyoung was an addiction, except this addiction didn't hurt you, instead, it jeopardised Wonyoung's career. You always told yourself that it was only for one more night, one more night couldn't hurt, because the moment you looked into Wonyoung's eyes, when she asks you to stay, that she needed you, how could you say no? So here you were, holding Korea's granddaughter as she found solace in your warmth.

Wonyoung was wide awake of course. She was used to long hours of shoots and interviews, but she was always energised by seeing you. This time was different though. Wonyoung knew what you wanted to talk about, and she hated it. Despised it with her entire being, but above all, Wonyoung was afraid. Wonyoung was afraid, terrified, of what you wanted to say, afraid of you leaving her again. So she did what she had to. She avoided the topic, changed the topic, directed your attention elsewhere in hopes that the thoughts would vanish from your mind the same way she wished it would from hers. In a sea of negativity, you were her buoy, keeping her afloat. How could she let you go?

Beginning to feel a little numbness in your leg, you went to relieve it, gently picking Wonyoung up, laying her on the bed, unwittingly letting out a slight giggle as you saw Wonyoung's arm search around for you, before draping her blanket over her, lightly caressing her hair before a giving her a light kiss on her forehead. Getting up, you looked around the dorm room that you had once spent many hours in. You hadn't paid it much attention in the last 3 weeks, but looking around, nothing much had changed. Pictures of the two of you adorned her makeup table as it did a year prior, the little gifts or tokens you gave to Wonyoung in passing are memorialised and put on display, worth more to her than any of her luxury bags or dresses, even the little notes you wrote whenever Wonyoung had long schedules or went away, Wonyoung cherished it all. But you would be lying if you didn't notice the tear stains on some of the notes and letters, guilt gripping your heart as you glanced over to Wonyoung, her peaceful look an image you cherished, but also an image you couldn't help but worry about, whether it would all vanish in an instant.

You were pulled from your train of thoughts by a knock on Wonyoung's door, freezing you in your place. Fear began to overtake you, recalling how the company had found out about the two of you in the first place "Wony, you there?" You heard Yujin's voice through the door, your shoulders sagging a little as you calmed down a little. Still a little wary though, you held your tongue, quietly looking at the door in dreaded anticipation as silence filled the room, only to be cut through by Yujin's voice once again "I know you're in there Y/N. It's just me, don't worry." With a sigh, you walked to the door, gently opening the door to see Yujin standing outside the room, gesturing for you to leave the room

"Hey Yujin." You whispered while leaving the room, as Yujin reciprocated with a smile. "Hey. It's been awhile." Yujin replied, before the living room was filled with eerie silence, both uncertain about the trajectory of this conversation "How long have you known?" You finally broke the silence "Since the first day, it was pretty obvious, first time in ages Gauel didn't have to drag Wony out of her room for breakfast." Yujin chuckled, though there was a sad undertone to her words "That doesn't mean it was me." You probed "Well, you're the only person who found out about me liking caramelised onions, or Liz liking silver fish. So imagine my shock when Wonyoung started handing those things to us. Good to know you still care about us Y/N" Yujin teased, lightly shoving you on the shoulder as you both chuckled "Of course, you girls are like my family. I care about all of you." You said in earnest, shooting Yujin a small smile Mustering some courage, you turned away from Yujin, the gravity of the situation dawning on you once again "Listen, Yujin, I know I'm not supposed to do this, but...I just can't say no to her..." Yujin's face turned to one you were not used to, a serious and somber expression on her face "Y/N, I talked to the other girls, and I told them what's going on. We decided that if the two of you wanted to give the company an ultimatum, we'd back you guys." Almost instantly, your voice raised an octave, though it was quickly muffled as you realised how late it was. "What?! Sorry, just...this is what I wanted to avoid, I can't ask you girls to risk everything just for me." "It's not just for you, it's for Wony too, and like you said, Y/N, all of us, you, me, Wony, Leeseo, Rei Liz, Gaeul, we're all like family, how could you expect family to do any less?" Yujin rested her hand on your shoulder, a reassuring smile on her face as you were stuck, uncertain of what to do.  "...I'm not worth all your sacrifices, Yujin. I can't put the girls through this, you know what the company will try to do...hell, both you and Wonyoung have had to redebuted already, Leeseo's still a child, and the rest of the girls... I'm not worth this Yujin." You could barely whisper the last words, tears forming, now you weren't just putting Wonyoung's career in jeopardy, you were putting the entirety of IVE in with it too. "Y/N, I see the way Wonyoung looks at you, we all have, and we see the way you look at her too. Even if you didn't want to put our careers at risk, could you really leave her? You did it once already, it broke the both of you, and it ended right where you began, the two of you hiding in her room, pretending like you can spend the rest of your lives hiding from the company, we both know there's only two ways this can go Y/N. Either you leave to protect Wonyoung from the company, but it'll break the both of you, in ways you can't even comprehend, or you stay, we fight for you guys, and you could stay together."  "And if I say I think I should leave?" You asked, turning to look at Yujin, who was clearly taken aback at your suggestion. She stayed silent, considering her response. "I would say you're making the wrong decision, I would say that you and Wonyoung are made for each other and leaving her would be a mistake, but I would also say that it's your decision to make, I won't stop you." Yujin answered as you nodded, shooting her a small, albeit weak smile. "There'll be a package coming in a few days, keep it with you, you'll know what to do." Yujin wordlessly nodded "Goodnight Yujin." "Goodnight Y/N."

Back in Wonyoung's room, you entered as quietly as you could, only to notice a really confused Wonyoung. "What were you doing out there? No one else knows you're here..." Wonyoung asked, hands outstretched as she invited you back into bed "Just needed to get some water, don't worry, no one saw me." You quickly got back into bed, feeling Wonyoung's arms wrap around your waist As the two of you held each other in silence, both minds were in turmoil, fear and uncertainty clouding their minds. "Y/N, you know I love you right?" Wonyoung whispered, leaving a light kiss on your hand "Of course, and I love you too." You whispered back, feeling Wonyoung nuzzle into your neck, running your hand through her silky hair, before she pulled back a little, smile on her face as the moonlight illuminated her, a magical aura emanating about her. "Go to sleep Wony." You whispered, lightly caressing her face as she nodded, her breath slowing to a steady pulse. With the girl of your dreams in your arms, you stared at the ceiling in despair. What to do? What to do?

As the illumination of the morning sun struck Wonyoung in her face, she groggily got up, expecting to feel you on the bed, only to be met with nothing. Still in the grasp of morning haze, Wonyoung stretched, looking around as she saw a letter on her makeup table, one with your familiar handwriting on it. Small smile on her face, Wonyoung walked to her table, gently opening the envelope.  Her smile quickly vanished, just the first line of the letter was enough to rob Wonyoung of any joy she felt in the moment, turning to despair and anger, bolting out of her room to see the 5 girls eating Breakfast. "Hey Wony, you're up early, what do you want for breakfast?" Gaeul asked, turning around to scramble around the kitchen. Wonyoung paid her no mind though, immediately rushing to Yujin. "What did you say to Y/N last night?" Wonyoung asked, trying her best to contain a scream as tears trickled down her cheeks. "What?" Yujin could only mutter, confused by the sudden confrontation. "Cut the shit Yujin, I know you talked to Y/N last night, what the hell did you say?" Wonyoung could barely contain her anger anymore, her fist so tightly clenched that her knuckles turned white. "What happened? What did Y/N do?"  "Y/N's gone. Only left me a letter, said that they wouldn't be coming back anymore."  All eyes were on Yujin by this point, who had a somber look on her face. "I didn't know they'd do it already..." She softly muttered to herself, but still loud enough that Wonyoung caught it. "You knew? And you didn't try to stop them?" By this point, Wonyoung's rage was too great, the other girls looking in fear as they had never seen Wonyoung angry, let alone this angry. "Wony I-" Yujin tried to talk, but Wonyoung quickly shot her a glare, interrupting her. "Y/N called me that. You don't get to call me that. You don't get to call me anything, at all." Wonyoung quickly turned, running to her room as the door slammed behind her. She found herself melting into her bed once again, sobbing as the lack of warmth in her bed only served to remind her of your absence. In her tear-stricken state, she took the letter you had wrote her, reading it in it's entirety

#angst #rd0265667 #wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #ive wonyoung #wonyoung fanfic #jang wonyoung fanfic #ive jang wonyoung fanfic #fluff

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 3A Fluffy

Part 3B Smutty

Eddie couldn't believe his life right now. Steve. His Steve. Could he say his Steve? Part of him felt like he could. But mostly that he could not. Because he only got this far thanks to Kas.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't say thank you."

"You're welcome anyway. Thanks to me, we can call Steve ours."

Eddie covered his face in his hands. "No, no we can't."

Kas frowned but didn't argue. He already knew Eddie's mind. Knew why he was still hesitating. Even when they could still taste Steve on their lips. Speaking of...

"Hey, what's cookin' good lookin'."

"Uh, cereal and milk", Dustin replied from next to Steve. He even shook the box. "Plenty more if you're hungry."

"I can't believe he's really alive", El said, setting eyes on him for the first time ever. She had heard what happened, the whole story.

"You can feel it too, right?", Will asked.

Her eyes narrowed as she took Kas in. "I do. There's a connection."

"So could you break it?", Mike asked. "Because if he's like how Will was a few years ago, then Vecna can see everything."

"Which means the flayer can too", Dustin added.

"Have you contacted them at all?", Robin asked, her gaze suspicious.

"As per our agreement, I have not." Kas slid into the seat next to Steve at the table. "Wouldn't wanna spoil our deal."

"I don't know what breaking the connection would do", El finally spoke up again. "You said Henry brought you back. That he put you together."

Lucas immediately put it together. "If Vecna is the glue then when he's gone-"

"You won't be", Steve finished, eyes full of worry.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it darlin'." Kas curled some of Steve's hair around his finger.

"Don't tell me not to worry about something this serious. I just-we just got you back."

Robin cleared her throat and Steve remembered there were other people in the room.

-------------------------

"Are we gonna talk about you and Kas?", Lucas asked.

"There's really not much to say", Steve replied.

"Except how he's being super nice to you. Nicer than Eddie ever was", Dustin pointed out.

The three of them were doing some much needed grocery shopping. Jonathan, Robin, and Argyle were keeping watch over Kas at the moment.

"He's...different, for sure." Steve pushed ahead with the cart, trying to keep the kids from seeing his face. He couldn't just say 'oh yeah, we have the hots for each other but are trying to keep it under wraps because we've already got other things to worry about'.

Dustin and Lucas shared a look. While Steve was gathering essentials, they made the excuse of going to get snacks to get away from him.

"I think we need to consider the possibility of Kas trying to trick Steve", Dustin said.

"I mean it only makes sense. He's basically flirting with him all the time. I bet he's trying to weaken us one by one. And he's starting with Steve cause he thinks he's an easy target."

"I mean he is. He knows Eddie the least. And let's be honest, not a lot goin' on up here", Dustin tapped his temple.

"But we're not gonna be fooled", Lucas said.

They returned to the house, two of them on a mission but already caught off guard when Kas jumped up at Steve, book in hand.

"You like this book!?"

"The Phantom Tollbooth? Yeah. I like the word play."

"Stevie you are a man after my unbeating heart."

"Never thought a vampire from the Upside Down would be into reading", Lucas said.

Steve made a face. "That was more Eddie than Kas."

"That was what?"

"How can you tell?", Robin asked.

Steve shrugged. "I mean they're both still the same person it's just.... it's hard to explain. But sometimes they switch."

"We're reading this tonight", Eddie said, holding the novel to his chest.

"And only reading", Robin warned him.

Eddie followed behind Steve to help put the groceries away. But it only took one pun about canned corn and Steve was being pressed against the fridge. Eddie had made the joke and had even pushed Steve toward the appliance but he could tell he was being kissed by Kas right now.

It wasn't hard to understand why. Doing something like this with people just on the other side of the wall was quite daring, even for Eddie. He could also tell because Kas bit him more. He nibbled at his lips and his neck and while he didn't complain about the restricted diet, Steve wondered if he seriously needed blood and guts to survive.

"Bite me", he whispered.

"What?", they heard Argyle's confused voice and quickly jumped away from each other.

Thinking quick, Steve rolled up his sleeves and presented his arm just in time for the rest of them to pile into the kitchen.

"I think he needs actual blood", Steve said.

He could tell he wasn't fooling Robin or Jon. Maybe not even Argyle. Not with how flushed he looked. But Dustin and Lucas seemed to fall for it. If only because the thought of the two of them making out was so far out of left field. Kas sniffed at Steve's wrist before grabbing it in both hands and bringing it to his lips.

"This still counts as watching what he eats", Steve reasoned as Kas bit in. "As long as he's not eating people, it should be okay." He thought he did a very good job not buckling under the unexpected pleasure of Kas sucking on his wrist.

"I kinda feel like we shouldn't be watchin' this, dude", Argyle commented.

Meanwhile, Lucas and Dustin took note of this moment. They were determined to catch Kas slipping and save Eddie.

But as days passed and they waited for proof, they came up with nothing. Even when they enlisted the help of Will and Mike.

"What the fuck is this?", Mike demanded to know when he barged into Steve's house.

Steve had been sitting on the couch, watching tv, totally normal. What wasn't normal was Kas sitting on the floor at his feet, getting his hair pet like a dog.

"Well we were watching The Twilight Zone", Kas said.

"I know knocking is out of your skill set, but could you at least not slam my door open", Steve said, his hand still stroking those long curls.

"I think you two owe us an explanation", Lucas said.

"Yeah, clearly something is going on here that you're not telling us", Dustin added.

El and Will were both silent while the others shot the two older boys accusatory looks.

"They're in love", El said in the silence.

"Don't joke about that", Mike said, which must've set something off in Will.

"Don't be an asshole. You guys are idiots if you haven't been seeing it."

"Steve and Eddie hate each other", Dustin gestured to them as if their position would prove so, like they were wrapped up in each other.

Kas grinned and pressed his chin into Steve's thigh. "You hear that? Apparently I can't stand your guts."

Steve rolled his eyes. "My guts, maybe. But you sure are able to stand my face alright."

"Your face, your hands, your legs", Kas started to gnaw at Steve through his jeans.

"Hey! Kids!", Steve warned with a gentle push as well as pulling his legs away.

"I think...I might be able to help", El said. "But it won't be easy. And I'll need your help, Steve."

"Me?" He probably had the least experience here when it came to El and her powers. "Why?"

She grinned at that. "Because you're his favorite."

----------------------------------

A bonus cuz i can't help myself

Steve never thought in a million years he'd be here. Not ever. Fresh out the shower, that was normal. Fresh out the shower with a hottie in his bed, that was also normal. Said hottie kissing up and down his arm, not to much.

Kas pressed his lips so softly it was like he was planning on making love to just his arm.

"I think you might be obsessed", Steve teased.

"I spent a good few minutes sucking off the other arm. Don't want this one to get jealous."

Steve turned pink. "Don't say 'sucking off', that's not what you did."

Kas hummed against his bicep. "I swallowed you down? I drank you up? Milked you to the last drop?"

Steve rolled his eyes but continued to smile. "Can I speak to Eddie now?"

"You know it's kinda unfair you get two boyfriends and I only have one", Eddie said, moving to rest his chin on Steve's shoulder.

"I think I'm more than enough for the both of you", Steve said, turning his head in to peck his lips.

Part 5 FINAL

A/N: the next part will most likely be the last part unless I come up with any other ideas for this. Tune in for the next one!

Tag Team

@jestyzesty @anaibis @cassaloopa @epiclazershark @xtkxkrzrizir

@bisexualdisastersworldd @sadbitchfangirl @mentalcyborg @sidekick-hero @spectrum-spectre @xenon-demon

@pyrohonk @books-and-current-obsessions @deadontheinside20 @cuips-not-cute @awkwardgravity1 @thebrazilianatheist @mentallyundone @thev01dd @ilikechocolatemilkh @snakeorsquid @boop369 @cmackz93 @aizawa-emma

@mightbeasleep

@spooky-mulders @lololol-1234 @penny-lane-bitch @cupcakesnwhiskey @messrs-weasley

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #kas!eddie #i think in the future i'll do more of those #choose your own path fics #having 2 versions was kinda fun #i only did it a little this time but still

[chaosbarelycontained]

You Know I Think I Recognise Your Face

North Country Boy Chapter 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!OC

TW: swearing, angst, awkward teenagers (yeah, I know)

Words: 2.1k

Synopsis: Jules meets some of her new team mates and lets the Lt know where her boundaries lie.

Captain Price awkwardly cleared his throat, shaking Jules from her frozen state. With a pointed look at his Lieutenant, Price then addressed his new Sergeant.

“Drop your kit in your room and join us for tea, eh? Don’t let it get cold.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

Moving to follow him out of the briefing room she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“Ju…” Riley began, his voice quiet and low.

Her eyes glanced down to where his hand rested on her and then they were back on his face. She stared him down coldly without even a hint of expression until he released his grip and then she made her way out of the briefing room without a single backward glance, stooping to grab her kit bag as she passed.

Standing before the door to Room 3B, Jules stared at the handle and the card scanner above it. Price hadn’t given her the key-card. In the absence of any other option, she slid the card for her old room from the pocket of her pants and tapped it against the scanner, which chirped and flashed green. Jules smirked a little at the Captain’s deviousness and pushed down the handle.

The room was as nondescript as any other billet she’d bunked in over the years. She lay her kit bag down on the foot of the perfectly-straight covers and made a perfunctory scan around the space. There was a small window above the head of the bed, the sky beyond already beginning to take on the dusky hue of twilight, and a closed door to the left. Opening it, Jules was relieved to find a sink, toilet, and shower. The usual single wardrobe, chest of drawers, and bedside table completed the ensemble and she gave a small hum of satisfaction before making her way back downstairs to the mess.

Following the clamour of voices and the clatter of cutlery against china, Jules quickly located the mess again after Price’s rapid tour earlier. She pushed open the door and was hit by a wall of noise and smells of food from the kitchens. Casting her eye about she did a recce of the room and quickly surmised the order of things. Grabbing a tray from the stack by the wall she joined the queue at the hatch and then had her plate filled with a hearty beef stew and dumplings. Nodding her thanks to the server she found an empty seat at the end of one of the tables, filled a glass with water from the jug in the middle, and then settled in to eat her tea.

She’d barely managed two mouthfuls before her elbow was jostled by someone taking the seat to her left whilst another sat in front of her. She acknowledged both of them with a small nod and then went back to eating her food. When the expected conversation openers didn’t arrive she looked up to see both soldiers staring at her, broad grins on their faces. Swallowing awkwardly Jules offered them a strained smile in return but they said nothing and just carried on staring.

“Hi?” she said in bemusement.

“Hey,” one responded, whilst the other gave a “hullo”.

“Can I…help you?”

“Just comin’ ta gi’ ye a welcome,” the guy to her left said, his words thick with a Scottish accent.

“Thanks,” she replied, forking up another mouthful of stew.

“So you’re the spook from The Duke’s?” the other asked in reference to her affiliations with the Lancs and the SRR.

“That’s me.”

“Proper chatterbox aren’t ye?” the first teased, leaning his cheek on his hand.

Jules remembered him from the briefing now, one of the guys who’d heckled the Captain. MacTavish, he’d called him.

“MacTavish, right?” she asked.

“Aye!” He grinned, his eyes lighting up when she recalled his name. “That’s me. This is Gaz,” he added nodding at the fella opposite, who saluted goodnaturedly.

“Jules,” she offered, taking a gulp of her water as she mentally tried to match the names she’d been given to the list of 141 members that had been on Price’s data drive.

“Get an offer ye couldn’t refuse?” MacTavish pushed.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Captain there, gave ye an offer? Dug ye oot of a hole?”

Jules eyed him suspiciously and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Don’ worry yeself, I’m no prying. Ye don’ have te say.”

“Let’s just say I had a problem with some orders, yeah?” Jules smirked, raising her glass again.

“Amen to that,” Gaz agreed, holding out his fist which Jules bumped with her own.

“Gaz…that’s Garrick, right?” she asked, which he confirmed with a nod. “You’re from the Duke’s too, yeah?”

Gaz opened his mouth to respond but his words stalled as he glanced over Jules’ shoulder towards the door. Raising his chin in greeting at whoever had entered, he then turned his attention back to her.

“Yeah, I did my time at Kimberley, so did the Lt, actually. Hey Ghost!” he called across the room. “The newbie’s one of ours.”

Jules stiffened in her chair at the mention of the Lieutenant’s name. She saw MacTavish beckoning him over and held her breath, trying to focus on getting another forkful of stew into her mouth in an attempt to disguise the rising tide of her anger. To her utter relief she saw him shake his head and leave the room with his plate of stew.

“Thought we had him there for a minute, Soap,” Gaz sighed, shaking his head.

“Soap?” Jules asked, a little confused.

“Aye, tha’s me,” MacTavish said.

“Why Soap?”

“‘Cause he’s good at cleaning house,” Gaz offered, whilst MacTavish beamed at her.

Jules couldn’t suppress the snicker that bubbled up from her throat, grateful for the distraction. It was short-lived, however, when Soap began his “not prying” line of questions once more.

“So ye ken oor Ghostie then?” he asked, not missing Jules awkwardness.

“Like I said before, I used to. Not seen him in ten years,” she shrugged off the question.

“Ooooh, so you know the man behind the mask…” Gaz speculated, his eyes widening with the anticipation of gossip.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jules replied, swallowing the last of her water. “A lot can change in that amount of time.”

“But what’s he look like though?” he pressed, eager for any speck of gossip about their Lt.

“What d’ya mean?” Jules asked, becoming more perplexed by the minute.

“Never takes his mask off,” Soap offered with a shrug.

“You mean never as in…never? At all?” Jules’ voice was thick with incredulity.

“Nope, never.”

“Crazy-arse bastard,” she muttered, filing away that piece of information for later.

The two soldiers still stared at her expectantly, as if she were about to divulge some key piece of intel but she left them disappointed. She stood, scraping her chair backwards as she gathered her plate and cutlery.

“Sorry gents, it’s been a long and very weird day. I’m gonna turn in for some early shut eye ‘cause I’m sure tomorrow’s goin’ t’be just as crazy.”

“Too right,” Gaz agreed, but Jules had already left the table.

She deposited her tea things by the wash-up station and left the mess. The list of duties for the next day had already been pinned to the noticeboard opposite so she took a second to check it and groaned internally. For all intents and purposes it looked like she’d been let off lightly. There was an equipment audit scheduled for the afternoon and she wondered what that might entail but it was the morning’s activity that concerned her the most. It was a skills assessment which, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have phased her but this one wasn’t led by the Captain, it was led by Lieutenant Riley. Shit.

Jules’ plans for an early kip were scuppered. Her brain just wouldn’t switch off and, after a couple of hours of tossing and turning she gave up. Leaving her bed with a frustrated huff she stuffed her feet into her trainers and made her way down to the mess for a glass of milk to try and reset her racing thoughts. Voices filtered into the corridor from the mess and she slowed her pace, automatically making her steps lighter and almost soundless.

“Ach, come on Lt, gi’ us a bit o’ somethin’ eh?” Soap’s voice carried loudly.

“Leave it alone, Johnny,” came the low and slightly muffled rumble from behind Ghost’s mask.

“Not even the tiniest bit of back story?” Gaz probed.

“I told you, I’m not gonna talk about it. We knew each other a long time ago, that’s it. You old hags are gonna have t’get your gossip somewhere else.”

It was then that Jules stepped into the room, which fell silent as the three guys turned their eyes in her direction.

“Don’t mind me,” she muttered, keeping her head down as she searched for the milk in the fridge.

“You joining us for a brew?” Gaz asked, shaking his mug of tea in her direction.

“No, ta,” she replied as she located the milk and filled herself a glass.

“Cannae sleep?” Soap queried sympathetically.

“Summat like that,” Jules said, downing her drink and then rinsing her glass. “Night, fellas.”

With a nod of acknowledgement to Gaz and Soap’s chorus of “g’night”, she left the room. Ghost had remained silent, simply folding his arms over his chest, but she could feel his stare boring between her shoulder blades long after she’d left his line of sight.

* * * * *

Juliette looked up from her desk, startled by the cough from her bedroom door. Her cheeks flamed red as she saw Simon lounging in the doorway, a lop-sided grin on his face.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked, nodding with his chin towards her book.

“Wuthering Heights,” she groaned, dying internally at the thought of her messy hair and the giant spot that had erupted on her forehead the night before. “I gotta annotate three chapters for homework.”

“Homework?” he scoffed. “You’re such a swot, Jules.”

“I am not,” she protested, shifting a stack of notes underneath the latest issue of Just 17 magazine. “I can’t understand the bloody thing anyway.”

“You got Mr Benedict for English?” Simon asked and when she nodded he stepped further into her room.

Juliette’s heart skipped a beat and she almost forgot how to breathe when Simon leaned over her desk and took her pen from her hand.

“I had him too, he loves Wuthering Heights. You need to be highlighting bits like this…and this…” he drew circles around phrases in the book. ‘And make sure you talk about pathetic fallacy. He’ll go mental for that.”

“Cheers, Simon,” she beamed and he smiled back at her.

“Not a fan of English then?” he asked as he straightened up and looked around at her room a bit more.

She prayed that she’d remembered to put all her dirty washing in the basket and that he wouldn’t notice the poster of Damon Albarn that she’d ripped out of Just 17 and pinned to the wall next to her bed.

“Nah, I like I.T. and Maths,” Juliette admitted, and she really did.

She loved computers and how they worked. Miss Talbot had promised to give her extra classes on coding if she passed her end of topic test next week.

‘Told you, you’re a total swot. Maybe even a geek.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah you are,” he teased, laughing as she smacked him on the arm. “I gotta go. If you need any more help just tap me up.”

“Yeah?” Juliette blushed again, relishing the thought of maybe spending more time with him without Rob being his usual twatty self.

“Course.”

“Mint,” she exclaimed, “Thanks Simon.”

“Laters, Jules,” he said as he left her room, throwing her a cheeky wink.

Juliette groaned and let her head thunk onto her desk. Her heart pounded a rapid tattoo but at least she remembered how to breathe again. Lifting her head she gazed at the pages of the novel where Simon had made notes for her in his distinctive boxy script. She pulled the book closer to her, vowing to keep it forever, but then nearly vomited in embarrassment as she caught sight of the piece of paper that had lain just under it, the writing clearly visible. Down the centre of the paper was written the words TRUE LOVE with numbers next to each letter but it was the names at the top of the page that made Juliette want to crawl into a hole and never return.

Juliette Kelsall and Simon Riley.

She’d never be able to look him in the face again.

Taglist: @aykxz98

#simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #john price #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod mwii #ghost cod #kyle gaz garrick

[beansprean]

Gettin this out before tomorrows eps - still thinking about that wall slam

(continued on Patreon hehehehe)

ID: 1a. Close up on Stede in his new red shirt, holding a quill in his right hand. He looks up from his work with a furrowed brow as there is a loud crash and clattering of scattered objects offscreen. Stede asks, "Ed? What are you doing?" 1b. Reverse shot, full body of Ed, dressed down in his black undershirt, leather trousers, and boots, posed awkwardly against a standing wardrobe. He is leaning back against it, legs too far out and shaking with the effort from his core, one arm splayed against the surface and one arm above his head. On the floor next to him, an ornate golden candelabra has fallen over, holders snapped off and candles rolling away. Ed looks over at Stede, embarrassed, and replies, "Uhh...seducing you? That wasn't expensive, was it?" 1c. Close up on Stede again, smiling at Ed with hooded eyes, quill feather trailing thoughtfully over his cheek. "Oh?" he purrs. 1d. Repeat. Stede startles, realizing the implications, and moves to stand from his seat, flustered, repeating, "Oh!!"

2a. Shot from behind Ed, the wardrobe close up in the foreground and Stede's desk beyond, the cubby bed in the wall between them with curtains half closed. Stede rounds the desk and hurries toward Ed, one hand held out as if to stop him from taking off, shouting "I'm seduced! I'm seduced!" In the foreground, Ed heaves himself off of the wardrobe, leaning forward slightly with one hand braced on the door and the other on his lower back. He says, "Oh, good. Ow." 2b. Shot of them both in profile, knees-up, as Stede reaches Ed, arms held out hesitantly as if waiting for permission to grip his waist. Stede asks, red-cheeked and concerned, "So you...are we ready for this?" Ed grins at him, replying, "I said slow, not glacial, babe." He braces both hands on his back and leans his upper body backwards with a loud 'crack!' Stede mumbles, "Alright?" Ed assures him, "Never better." 2c. Repeat. Ed leans back again against the wardrobe, more confidently this time, back arched, right hand braced above him and left hand at his hip, curling a single finger in a 'come hither' motion. He grins up at Stede through his eyelashes and teases, "Hop aboard, Captain." Stede immediately straightens up, eyes going wide and face burning red.

3a. Zoom in, waist up. A blur of motion as Stede rushes forward, gripping Ed by the front of his shirt with both fists and pushing him backwards past the wardrobe to slam into the adjacent wall. Ed reacts with wide-eyed surprise, cheeks flushed, stomach exposed, one hand flying up toward Stede's shoulder. 3b. Repeat. Stede crowds Ed against the wall to mash a passionate kiss against his mouth, fists gripping his shirt tightly beneath their chins. Ed immediately melts into it, eyes closing, right arm looping around Stede's neck and left hand pressed to the side of his throat. 3c. Zoom out slightly as they break the kiss, Stede moving his head back only enough to make eye contact, their noses still overlapping. Stede, looking a bit bashful, asks, "Too much?" Ed smiles giddily at him, flushed and pleased, right arm winding tighter and left hand moving to cup Stede's cheek. Ed replies, "No, no, not at all, mate. I'm into it." 3d. Repeat. Satisfied with the consent given, Stede pushes forward again to kiss at Ed's neck, hands releasing their death grip on his shirt to start moving underneath it, cupping Ed's pecs. Ed lets his head fall back against the wall and throws both of his arms around Stede's neck to keep him close, one leg hiking up against his hip. Ed giggles, still wearing the same silly, satisfied grin, and quips, "Not so much of a gentleman in the sheets, eh?" /end ID

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stedward #mlm #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

[flower-boi16]

Thank god Lily Orchard hasn’t gotten her slimy hands on Amphibia aside from that brief bit of slander in one of her videos

I've been thinking about what kind of takes Lily would have on Amphibia if she ever decided to make a big "Amphibia is Garbage and Here's Why" Video...so...just for "fun", let's come up with what "critiques" of Amphibia Lily would have.

Lily would say that Season 1 is the best season of the show due to it focusing on episodic adventures and say that Season 2 is bad due to it being more story-driven, and she would like 3A because it went back to the fun episodic stuff, and dislike 3B because of it going back to the story-driven stuff.

She would go on a whole stupid tangent about "serialization vs episodic shows and how you need to pick one and be both" and how Amphibia suffers from being serialized cuz "serialization & it's tropes bad", and that it should have stayed episodic.

She would demonize Marcy and especially Sasha for their bad actions despite them being complex and well-written characters. She would consider them "evil, bad people" and ignore all nuance to their actions.

She would hate Andrias for the same reasons.

She would favor the plantars more than Sasha and Marcy due to them being apart of the episodic half of Amphibia.

She would fine Anne boring (I dunno what "critiques" she would have for her)

If y'all have more ideas leave them in the replies!

(Though yes, thank god Lily never touched Amphibia because WE ALL KNOW her takes would've been awful)

#lily orchard #amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #hop pop plantar #sprig plantar #polly plantar #king andrias

[steadfvsthearts]

Tutorial: Cutting Posts in the Beta Editor

hello everyone !! i am certainly not the only person to write a tutorial like this, but i'd thought i'd try my hand at writing one. this tutorial covers how to cut your replies in the beta editor using xkit rewritten, as well as how to remove those pesky gif source links. read on for the tutorial !!

keywords: beta editor, xkit rewritten, cutting posts, trim reblogs written 12.09.2023.

Step 1: xkit rewritten

the beta editor requires a new browser extension completely different from the previous xkit ( the one that showed in your tumblr settings ) called xkit rewritten. if you have not done so already, go ahead and install xkit rewritten for chrome or firefox.

xkit rewritten shows in your browser task bar along with your other extensions. i like to pin mine to always show. it is through here that you control all the settings.

Step 2: enable "trim reblogs"

the setting in xkit rewritten that will enable you to cut posts is called "trim reblogs". to turn it on, click the extension icon. a menu will pop up where you can toggle on and off various settings. scroll until you see "trim reblogs" and toggle it on.

you can check this is properly enabled by going to your blog page and looking at any post you've made. at the bottom of the post with the editing, reblog, and like options, there should now be a scissors icon which is the trim reblogs option !!

Step 3: cutting/trimming replies

we are now ready to write and trim a reply !!

Step 3a: write and draft or queue/schedule your reply

write your reply below the other two previous replies.

you do not need to copy or paste anything from the previous replies. simply write your reply in the editing space and put in your gif or icon if desired. when you are done, draft or queue/schedule your post.

**note: as someone who doesn't draft replies first, i'm partial to scheduling the post for a few minutes in the future as a popup like the one below shows at the bottom of the screen when you do this. you can click this pop up to take you directly to the post in your queue which just cuts out having to manually navigate to your drafts or queue.

Step 3b: trim your post !!

navigate to your drafts or queue and find your post. scroll to the bottom of the post and click the scissors icon. this is the trim reblogs icon.

you will see the following pop up. the checked box is the reply that will be removed. classically, the first box is the one you want checked as you are removing your old reply.

make sure the correct reply is checked, then click trim !! you will now see the post has been trimmed to just the proper two replies.

that's all !! you are now ready to post.

**note: if you forget to draft or schedule your post, you can trim reblogs directly on the dash too !!

Bonus: getting rid of the gif source link

if you are seeing the source link show beneath your gif like above, there is an easy way to get rid of it! in the post editor, hover over the gif and click the link icon:

delete the text in this field and click done !! that's all !!

this concludes this tutorial !! one last note : if you are an android user, you are also able to use xkit rewritten to cut posts while mobile. for a more detailed tutorial on how to set that up, see here. please consider giving this a like and/reblog if you found it helpful !! happy rping !!

#rph #cutting posts #trim reblogs #rp tutorial #beta editor #;; mine

[hederasgarden]

Operation Elevator

Summary: Claire plays matchmaker when she realizes Six need a little help wooing their new neighbor. Pairing: Sierra Six x F!Reader Word Count: 780 Rating: Gen. Claire being sneaky, humor, brief mention of a panic attack and being trapped in a small space. A/N: This is stupid and silly but I needed to write something goofy and fun. Thank you @hoe-on-the-range for beta’ing, @whatblogisthis216 for holding my hand while I wrote this and @a-reader-and-a-writer for her help as well.

It takes 50 dollars and an overpriced pineapple upside-down cake from the bougie bakery on 6th street to convince the super of the apartment building to agree to Claire’s scheme. As plans went, it was pretty simple. Trap you and Six in the elevator long enough to get you talking and realize you liked one another. The hardest part was getting the timing right because Six liked his routine and you apparently worked from home.

Claire knew you liked Six. It was obviously from the way you stammered and babbled anytime you saw him. Whenever she ran into you alone you were normal, chatting to her about school or the weather, but if Six was there your voice got all high pitched and you gestured weirdly. You also brought them welcome cookies, for god’s sake. No one did that – especially not in New York City. Six was even more awkwardly robotic than normal with you but Claire saw the way he stared at you whenever he ran into you in the lobby. She also caught him on your Instagram page a couple of times which was sloppy for a spy. Civilian life was clearly making him soft but that was fine by Claire, it made her plan easier to pull off.

What Claire doesn’t count on is you having a full-blown panic attack when the elevator screeches to a halt or the way Six seems to blue screen for a full minute before he jumps into action. Thankfully the super is distracted enough by his fourth slice of pineapple upside-down cake that he doesn’t notice what’s happening on the security camera. Claire feels a little bad about that part but after a few minutes, Six has you calm again. There’s no audio but whatever he says makes you smile and he hesitantly reaches up to touch the side of your face. You’ve still got a hold of the front of his shirt and for a hot second, Claire thinks you might kiss but then Six looks away and you duck your head, staring at your shoes.

Claire huffs, annoyed. Apparently, he was only a man of action when bullets were flying or lives were in danger. But that’s fine, Claire has contingencies. Six taught her that much.

“I don’t know how, but I know you were involved,” Six tells her later that night, in the middle of their weekly movie night.

“Listen,” Claire starts, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth and chewing loudly enough to make Six’s eye twitch a little. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but if I did, you should probably know you sent her some very nice flowers and invited her out for coffee tomorrow, mkay?”

“Claire,” he says, sounding so put out she rolls her eyes at him and pauses the movie.

“Oh my god, you’re literally killing me here. It’s bad enough you low key internet stalk her, but then you liked a photo of hers from over a year ago. It’s embarrassing, Six! She clearly likes you. What’s the hold up?”

“First, it’s not stalking, it’s called doing recon on our neighbors.”

“Sure,” Claire says. “I didn’t see you doing a deep dive on Mr. Anderson in 3B’s instagram account.”

“Mr. Anderson lives in 4B, Claire.”

“Whatever,” she says, waving him off. “You’re meeting her tomorrow at 2pm. Try to be charming and don’t be weird. She seems cool.” Six sighs and rubs his temples, something unexpected flickering in his eyes. “Wait, are you actually nervous?” Claire asks, sitting up straighter.

“No,” he replies too quickly. “Though it’s possible I am mildly concerned this will go poorly.”

“Listen, you were a CIA super spy. You can handle one date with our neighbor. I believe in you,” she says, punching his arm.

“Your confidence in me is inspiring,” Six deadpans.

“Cool. Can we get back to the movie or do you want to talk more about your feelings?” She asks, grinning when he sighs heavily and turns his attention back to the TV.

The next day, Claire can’t be sure exactly how the coffee date goes, but when she catches Six sneaking in after 1am she has a pretty good idea.

“I hope you were safe,” she says, flipping on the light. The only sign she’s caught him by surprise is the way his hand automatically moves towards his hip. Ha. Some super spy.

“Claire…”

“Yeah yeah. I know. It’s past my bedtime. You’re welcome by the way,” she calls out over her shoulder as she heads back down the hall to her bedroom.

A few seconds pass before she hears him speak again, his voice is quiet but clear. “Thank you, Claire.”

✥

Taglist: @butaneandthebeast @phoenixhalliwell @andromacher @medievalfangirl @minilpark @bittergomez @writercole @icaruswillrise747 @the-whitegirl-is-back @wildbornsiren @a-reader-and-a-writerl @blue-aconite @Olivia21blunt @c4relesswhisperr @leafyplantdaddy

Join my tag list click here.

#sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #court gentry x reader #court gentry x you #court gentry imagine #sierra six imagine #sierra six #court gentry

[fantasydaydreamers]

💜7 mins in heaven with Dabi: Pt. 2💙

Continuation of Part 1

A soft gasp fell from your lips feeling cool metal sliding against your clit. Your eyes snap down to turquoise irises gazing up at you, lidded with desire. Touya was on his knees, staring at you with hooded eyes, his tongue currently spelling his name on your throbbing clit.

"Mine."

His lips lifted away to kiss your inner groin, making you twitch from the ticklish sensation, before returning back to your core. His hands run up both of your thighs, both his thumbs moving inwards to spread your puffy folds apart. A low groan came from his throat at the sight of your slick pussy. Your head was thick and foggy with lust, want, and need. Dizzying pleasure washes over you as his tongue piercing slides against you again, a low chuckle leaving his throat as you shiver against his mouth.

"Yeah? I'm going to make you count how many piercings I have when I finally push into-"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The loud alarm cuts through your sleep, your hand blindly reaching over with a groan to hit snooze. Silence fills the room again and the dull throb in your underwear was enough for you to furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. With your eyes still closed, you turn over and try not to think about last night.

...It was hard not to.

After getting a new drink in the kitchen with your friend, you didn't return back to the group; opting to wander around the party a little more, chatting with friends before telling your bestie you were going to head back to the dorms.

Thank God you controlled your drinking last night because you didn't wake up with a hangover but the ghost feeling of Touya's tongue-

Stop, (Y/n).

That damn dare...you still have no idea as to why he picked you. Before last night you've never interacted with him and purposely stayed out of his way.

Ugh...fuck...

He's just so hard to resist and you almost gave into him. The idea of kissing him...you're not even sure if he even has a tongue piercing!

Groaning, you flop back over again and reach for your phone to check your notifications. Dismissing a few app notifications and replying to your friend who mentioned spending the night with the guy they gave a lap dance to, the last notification catches your eye.

bvrnt.eros followed you

Tapping on the notification, it opens to Touya's page and your mouth opens slightly in confusion, scrolling through his pictures which mostly consist of thirst traps or aesthetic pictures of places he's been to. His captions were minimal, the black heart emoji his most used, but the comments were filled with thirsty girls begging for attention.

It was a worthless attempt though because it looks like Touya only bothers replying to his friends.

Of course. One-and-done like usual.

As you scroll back up, you contemplate following him back when another notification pops down.

bvrnt.eros sent you a message: hey

Cheeks flushing hot, you tap on the message that opens your dms.

you: what do u want?

Immediately the three dots pop up to show he's typing.

bvrnt.eros: well someone didn't sleep good

The dream flashes in your mind again and you've never been more relieved that he couldn't see your face. He starts typing again before you could respond.

bvrnt.eros: i was wondering if u wanted to go get a coffee sometime. either at the campus cafe or i can take us someplace off campus...

What exactly is he trying to do here?

you: im literally not going to sleep with you so this lil date trick you're doing isn't working

bvrnt.eros: i had a dream about u last night.

The sudden change in topic had your heart beating faster, not liking where this conversation was heading. Him too? No...he's playing a mind game.

you: uh huh....are you sure it wasn't the girl next door? that's room 3B hun.

bvrnt.eros: ooh it's been a while since i tamed a brat~

You roll your eyes.

bvrnt.eros: and it was definitely u. when u said last night about you being "on your knees" and "worshipping me like some God"....that gave me a pretty good nights rest dollface.

Asshole. Thoroughly finished with this conversation and beyond embarrassed, you tap out your goodbye.

you: go shove it.

bvrnt.eros: wait! do you think they're going to ask for part 3?

You close out of the app and toss your phone aside.

Not if it ends like this.

→ Part 3

#*slowly backs out of room* #dabi x reader #dabi x reader lemon #dabi x reader smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #mha x reader lemon #bnha x reader lemon #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha imagines #bnha lemon #bnha imagines #mha lemon #dabi smut #dabi #touya x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader lemon

[ryuichirou]

Replies

We have a couple of asks about yesterday’s drawing of Deuce and Epel (and a bunch of other asks too!), but I’ll start with an ask related to commissions. Thank you for your questions <3

Anonymous asked:

Is there anything you won’t do for commissions, i.e. OC x Canon, something too complicated, etc

I’m okay with almost anything, OC x Canon, complicated stuff, kink and gore included. That being said, I might decline some ships + certain top/bottom dynamics. In any case, everything is negotiable and I am willing to discuss alternative options, so if feel free to DM/email me, and we’ll discuss it.

Sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your interest!

Anonymous asked:

now i’m picturing deuce and epel holding hands while they’re being railed <3

Awwww! This is sweet. They’re supporting each other…

hipsterteller asked:

Oh Deuce and Epel are screwed

About to get Yeahh, I know, these poor guys :”(

Anonymous asked:

ok but who but deuce and epel in those cute outfits. they’re so detailed too!

Thank you so much!! I’m happy you like it! Seifukus are so much fun, I love drawing them. It was Katsu’s idea to combine them with their dorm uniform colours, and I’m very glad that we did that.

Anonymous asked:

sees the deuce and epel art, head begins to play the song shota shota island vocaloid

Wow, that’s an oldie! A genre of vocaloid songs that seems to be dead but never forgotten…

Looking this one up now, and wow even the pose is similar LOL

Anonymous asked:

to be fair, 4chan x instagram is probably more fun of a ship name than, like, 3B class, it's funny to see Idia being the 4chan of the ship XDD

(this is related to the reply where I described Idia and Cater that way...)

Thank you lol The more I think about it the better it sounds to be honest. Idia has such strong vibes of a person with certain types of opinions…

Anonymous asked:

So what you think of Ortho as a bodyguard to Vil? Think of it like Vil isn't safe on his own because of stalkers, Ortho will prepare to obliterate them.

Rook could also work as a bodyguard.

Both Rook and Ortho would make great bodyguards! Both of them are powerful enough to notice both stalkers and paparazzi right away and either cover/protect Vil or dispose of any inconvenience before Vil even notices it himself.

It is an interesting concept, Anon.

While we were discussing it, we joked how Rook or Ortho are actually protecting the stalkers from Vil, because if stalkers somehow manage to take either of them out and go directly to Vil, Vil is going to kick the shit out of them lol

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Random headcanon: I think while he's so clean and proper, Greenhill LOVES to make/see Violet's makeup smeared and ruined. Either from heavily making out in the Swan Gazebo when no one's around or from completely fucking after a show they performed, the man gets so hot and bothered by his own work Violet would need to hopefully be able to walk after so many rounds

YES. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS TRUE.

Greenhill isn’t even sure why he finds it so hot, in a way he feels bad ruining Violet’s perfectly black evenly coloured lips, but when his face is such a mess it’s a great reminder of how intense  their making out session was. Sometimes he forgets that his own face is also a mess afterwards, and Violet doesn’t remind him sometimes. Sometimes he’s embarrassed, sometimes he’s just a little petty.

#replies #greenviolet

[matan4il]

I went back and forth on whether to make this post. I guess what made me decide I probably should post it is not wanting anything to come as a surprise or shock to anyone following this blog.

In my 613 meta post, I kind of got nostalgic about how I started posting my weekly meta in 3b, and I mentioned that if it hadn’t been for people asking me to, these posts would not have existed. I’ll add, without those supporting my meta posts weekly, they wouldn’t have continued either (same goes to a degree for my ask replies). I’ve had my share of moments when I’ve seen engagement going down, leaving me with the impression that what I write must not be good enough for people to read, to reblog, to like, so I considered stopping.

But every time I did, I thought about the kind words I’ve read from people in reblog tags, I remembered those who told me that their enjoyment of the ep is increased by reading my meta posts, I thought about the people who enjoyed the meta posts enough to reblog them, and of the likes left on these posts, and I just couldn’t let all of these people down. I am not kidding when I tell you I probably would have stopped posting two years ago if it hadn’t been for the kindness you’ve all shown me.

But I also started recognizing that there’s a good chance engagement will continue to go down. And I don’t want to become bitter or angry over it. I’d rather quit before I get to that point. So earlier this season, I decided on an arbitrary cut off point for myself. If engagement drops below that, I will stop. I enjoy writing the meta posts, but I’d like to feel like I’m enjoying them together with others. And if that’s no longer the case, I wanna be able to say my goodbyes elegantly and without any hard feelings. I’m hoping this won’t happen before the end of s6, but I thought I’d share this now, to be on the safe side.

Why am I sharing it? At the end of the day, this is all up to the people who read my meta posts. If you like them and would like to continue reading them, please let me know by supporting them, by engaging with the latest (614 meta) or older, maybe even ask your friends to do the same, but ONLY IF you feel like it. And if engagement does eventually drop to the point where it no longer meets that cut off point, I don’t want anyone to feel surprised or hurt. I want you to remember that all of your kindness matters. That every post from me you’ve enjoyed in the last two years? If you’ve supported these posts, then the credit goes to you. I want you to remember that YOU and your choices matter, always.

Have a good day and take care of yourselves, lovelies. xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley #911 #fandom love #kindness #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc