#I thought these were going to be a onetime thing

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

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Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

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You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

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The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

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#chuuya smut #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #soukoku #rem writes

[lovelybrooke]

Platonic Yandere Phantom Thieves x reader

A/n: So, I'm taking a break from The Last of Us to write some P5 headcanons. After this, I'm going to start on Regret pt.2 and then some headcanons for The Last of Us, so expect that this weekend. Please Like, Comment, and Relog if you enjoy. (Also warning, I am very much American and don't know how the Japanese schooling system works, so please take that into account before reading)

The Phantom Thieves are as thick as, well, thieves. They are pretty protective of each other, mostly due to all they been through together. They were all once loners and outcasts, you know? That's a big reason why you become friends with them.

You transferred to Shujin in your second year. You were new to the area, and you weren't in a rush to make friends. You planned on just keeping to yourself until you graduated. Unlike a lot of your peers, you were not that worried about the "delinquent" school who was on parole. You've seen him around hanging with some other students. He didn't look that bad. His friend group was pretty diverse though, a true delinquent and a model, both of which were in your year.

A part of you was jealous, this guy who was branded as a criminal was able to make more friends than you. You shouldn't be upset at him for something that he can't control, but when you're eating lunch alone and catch them out of the corner of your eye, or when your when you're at the shopping district and you hear them loudly talking in the store you're in, even over your music, you can't help but get agitated. It's like they're following you, flaunting their friendship in your face.

You were doing your thing for about a few months before the supposed delinquent introduced himself to you. Akira Kurusu was his name, and he asked if you wanted to have lunch with him and his friends. You were kind of surprised, since he's literally never talked to you before this, nor has any of his friends. You were reluctant to except his invitation, thinking it was some sort of a prank, but you took the risk, since you were very desperate for friends.

Lunch was nice, and you learned a lot about his friend group. Akira was very much, not a delinquent, and shared some food with you. The real delinquent, Ryuji Sakamoto, was also really nice. He was pretty talkative and argued a lot with one of Akira's other friend Ann Takamaki. She was girly and sweet, which made it impossible to dislike her. Finally, there was Makoto Niijima, a third year, and the student council president. She was definitely the most intimidating, but of course, she was very nice, even offering to help you study if you ever needed.

You really enjoyed your time together with them. It was surprising that such a seemingly tightknit group was willing to let you hang out with them. At first, you thought this was a onetime thing, them just taking pity on a new student, but then the next day they acted confused when you went to your regular spot for lunch, Ann having to drag you over to their table. Then a week past and you had each of their phone numbers, each of them texting you nonstop. After a month went by, you met their other friend, Yusuke Kitagawa, who was definitely strange, but still very friendly and likeable.

You even got to meet Akira's strange cat Morgana, who definitely seemed more human than cat. You've seen him around school, appearing in some of the areas you would hang around by yourself. You assumed it was a coincidence, that they Akira took him in because he was a stray, but you couldn't help but feel as though he was watching you.

It was a strange friendship, but you were thankful, nonetheless. However, they were times when they would disappear for a while, with very little words for why. When you'd ask, they would play it off as being busy. You knew it was a lie, all of them were busy? At all the same time? Not very likely.

A part of you thought the problem was you. They all conveniently stopped hanging out with you around the time they became friends with another third year, Haru Okumura, a semi-celebrity and a young prodigy Futaba Sakura. They were obviously bored of you; you didn't offer them anything. You weren't extremely smart or attractive, nor were you particularly talented at anything. You were nothing compared to them, of course they wouldn't want to be around you anymore.

You stopped hanging out with them, and slowly stopped responding to their messages, even when your phone blew up with messages asking about where you were. You didn't show up to school as often, your grades dropping. You didn't care about your grades anymore, to busy wallowing in yourself pity to even notice your friends attempts on reaching out to you.

The Phantom Thieves were worried. Everything was going fine until you randomly stopped talking with them. You didn't respond to their messages, nor did you show up to school, so how were they supposed to help you? Ryuji immediately accused you of having a palace, and it took both Akira and Makoto both to calm him down enough so that they could come up with a plan to help you. Haru suggested that they just corner you at your home, which they of course new the location of. They all agreed that that would be the best solution.

When they arrived at you home, they let themselves in, knowing that your family wouldn't be home around this time. Ryuji immediately finds your room and starts demanding that you talk to them, even when you tell him to go away. After many minutes of pleading from the Phantom Thieves, you finally told them how you were feeling.

They all were conflicted. They didn't know whether or not to just straight up tell you what's been going on, since there's a large chance you wouldn't believe them. However, the took the chance and told you everything, claiming they were The Phantom Thieves. At first you though it was a joke, that they came up with an outlandish excuse for ignoring you, but you remembered the calling cards littered around the school during the incident with Mr. Kamoshida. You remember feeling eyes on you when you picked up one of them and read it out to yourself. Suddenly, everything made a little bit more sense.

It was strange, learning that your friends were a secrete group of vagilities, but you were happy to have them back. Though, you couldn't help but feel as though they were more possessive. Suddenly, one of them was walking you to and from school. You were always with one of them when they weren't busy, and they were checking up on you obsessively when they couldn't be with you. It became a little suffocating, but you assumed that's just what friends do, right?

A/n: Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to request persona 5 stuff from now on.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #ryuji sakamoto #ryuji x reader #ann takamaki #ann x reader #yusuke kitagawa #yusuke x reader #makoto niijima #makoto x reader #futaba sakura #futaba x reader #haru okumura #haru x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Inarizaki’s Manager

Manager Defends Inarizaki

Inarizaki x Gn! manager

Warnings: swearing (?)

AN: this is a request from @plutoistireddd!

Being the manager for such a stoic team isn’t easy

They have high standards and literally work their butt off to fill them

They can be dramatic at times, namely two specific individuals 👀

So needless to say, finding you, our unbothered, calm angel was a blessing for these boys

Literally nothing rattles you

When Atsumu is aCtInG lIke a ToDdLeR you simply ignore him and move on

When the twins fight, you simply assure nobody else is in harms way and walk away 💅

You are probably the calmest person anyone has ever met

Kita, Aran, Omimi and Akagi adore you

Literally you provide the chill they need without the dramatics

Like when Atsumu gets all worked up, you simply say “Sumu you are literally the best high school setter in Japan right now, what do you have to worry about?”

Atsumu 👉🏻😐🤨 you’re right YN!

Literally there’s absolutely nothing that phases out sweet Yn

Onetime, you were walking back to the gym and the water bottle carrier broke, spilling water bottles and water all over the floor

The team thought “this is it, this is the one!”

Suna was ready with his phone 📱

Kita, Aran and Ginjima were ready to calm you down

But nope, you just shrugged and said “well now I won’t have to mop the floors tonight” as you went, grabbed a mop and cleaned up

The guys 👉🏻👁️👄👁️

Literally they were convinced nothing would ever break you

But what they didn’t realize is that their precious Yn had one weakness and they were too silly to see it

To outsiders, it was obvious how much you carried for your team

You would do anything in your power for them

You carried for them all like friends and family

So when Inarizaki made it to Nationals, their cheer section followed

And while you appreciated the support, you knew first hand how annoying and awful they could be

Sure they were supportive but they could also be huge jerks

During the game everything remained pretty neutral

When Riseki, our precious first year was up to serve and panicked, the crowd started in on him

That’s when your irritation started to grow

It had happened at other games but you we’re definitely reaching your limit

You tried your best to remain calm but it was difficult

During the final set, the crowd was all over the place

Boos and cheers were intermixed and your agitation only grew

“YN you ok?” Coach asked, noticing your balled up fist

You simply nodded, “trying to find your chi” as Hinata would put it 😂

When they twins quick was stopped by Hinata and Kageyama, you watched the ball fall as the boys frantically chased for it

You knew it was over and you knew what was about to happen

But unbeknownst to the team, you weren’t going to deal with it

Kita called for the boys to line up as you quickly followed

Akagi, Suna and Kita all watched you come to stand in front of the team

Your arms crossed and you stood in a power stance, protecting your boys

Suna was so mad he didn’t have his phone 😅

“ALRIGHT LISTEN UP!” You screamed as the crowded settled

The guys rn 👉🏻 🧍😐😳

“They boys played their hearts out and sure they have regrets but I swear, if I hear ONE BAD THINGS about them, I will personally ruin EVEDY SINGLE ONE of your pathetic lives! This is the time when our team needs support and if you can’t BE that support, then walk your butts right out that door and never come back!” You shout as the crowd all look at you

The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

The crowd 👉🏻😳🫣

The coaches 👉🏻😐😏

You 👉🏻🔥👄🔥

Suddenly the crowd starts applauding as the team stands there

“YN is right, these boys played a fantastic game?” Someone yelled

You nodded, happy with the outcome as you strolled off the court and to the sidelines, grabbing your stuff and heading out

The boys silently followed you, Kita in the lead as he spoke

“Umm YN,” he said

You turned around, putting your hand up to stop him

“Kita don’t thank me. I love you guys and I’ll do anything to protect you. You played your hearts out and while I’m sure you have regrets, that match was beyond amazing and well, today just happened to be Karasuno’s day,” you smiled as the boys all started to cry

You set your stuff down, going to hug them as a team

“I gotta say Yn, that was pretty badass,” Suna added

“I’m actually surprised it wasn’t Atsumu who finally broke you,” Osamu said

“Hey! I’m not that hard to deal with!” Atsumu said

“Oh you definitely are Sumu but we all just deal with it because we love you,” you say 🥰

Atsumu 👉🏻🥲 pain

#haikyuu!! #haikyu! #haikyū!! #haikyu #inarizaki manager #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki #hq Inarizaki #atsumu miya #miya osamu #kita shinsuke #Suna rintaro #akagi michinari #ren omimi #ojiro aran #ginjima hitoshi #riseki heisuke #gender neutral reader #Inarizaki x yn #Inarizaki x gender neutral reader #Inarizaki x you #haikyuu #inarizaki headcanons #inarizaki hcs #haikyu hcs #haikyu headcanons #haikyu x reader #hq atsumu #hq osamu #hq suna

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Sunshine follows with Sunfall pt.5

Warnings: Grudges(well deserved)

Series Masterlist

The next few chapters will be posted at random, no longer every Friday. I'm going to take some time to focus on some other wip's of mine.

~☆~

When Jason left your apartment that night, he had left you with his phone number, an address, a key, and a promise to see you again. You shouldn't trust his promises, you know this.

It took three whole days of fighting with yourself to finally call him, ask him if he wanted Judith back in his life. The two of you talked about her for hours that night, you telling him about all of the things he's missed, not just in the past year but also things he missed throughout her whole life.

She likes pink glittery Pancakes, her favorite color is yellow, she likes going to the park because she gets to silently judge people, she loves school(especially her class turtle), she likes being around her family, but only for short period (they can get on her nerves quickly), she's obsessed with Blues clues, but only the older version with Steve (which is why she named the cat Damian had gifted her "Periwinkle"), onetime she had the flu and genuinely thought she was dying, she likes watching her uncles play video games, but she doesn't like playing them.

A lot of things have come up in her transition from four to five.

You didn't end the call without telling him what's on your mind. "I don't want her to love you, just for you to leave again when you can't handle the pressure. I don't want you to leave her heartbroken."

×

"Hey, Jude!"

"Hi, Mommy!"

Judith ran up to you, hugging your legs. An action she does every single time you pick her up from school. "How was your day, baby?"

"Awsome!" She yelled, looking down at a flower in her hand. "I got a present!"

"Aw, that's cute." You wouldn't tell her that her 'flower' was, in fact, a weed. The two of you started walking to your car, hand in hand.

"Momma, help, please.." She smiled as she tried to climb into the back seat. You let out a small chuckle at her behavior. You watched as she buckled her seat belt, waiting to see if she was fully okay before getting into the front seat.

"Now when we get home you're gonna have to take a bath, I have a suprise." You told her, watching as her expression brightened up at your words.

"What kind of suprise?" She pried.

"If I tell you, then it won't be a surprise anymore."

×

Judith excitedly ran through the apartment as soon as you got the door open. Her logic was that the sooner she got ready, the sooner her suprise would happen.

"Sweetheart, the suprise isn't until tonight!" You yelled from the living room.

"I have to plan!" She yelled back. You let out another chuckle and made your way to the bathroom, turning the knobs on the tub so that it's the perfect temperature. "Let's just get you into some pajamas for now!"

×

Let's just say the night came sooner than expected. Judith sat on your bed watching as you did your makeup. "Can I have some Momma?"

You turned to look at her, wide smile on your lips. "Judy, baby, you don't need any."

Despite your words, you still turned to dab a little bit of lip gloss on her lips. It's one that she left on your vanity, blue tube with Cinderella plastered on it. "Thank you, Mommy."

"You're welcome, baby." You turned to look at yourself one last time, letting out a sigh as you deemed yourself okay. "You ready?"

"Yes!"

×

Judith watched wide-eyed out of the window. Jason's apartment wasn't on the side of Gotham that the two of you grew up in and lived together in. It was in between that and near where the Manor and your very own apartment layed.

You parked your car in the garage, letting out another sigh as you finally realized what you were doing.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Judith asked, concerned look on her small face.

You turned to offer her a smile. "I'm okay."

The two of you hopped out of the car, well, Judith got out with the help of you. And then made your way into the lobby. If you remember correctly, Jason had said that the elevator just started running again. Thankfully, you did remember correctly.

You pushed the button that you needed and let yet another sigh fall from your lips. Judith's hand carefully grasped yours, brung you out of the daze you didn't even know you were in. "It's okay, I don't need a suprise."

Her head turned to look up at you, and you mustered up the best smile you could. "Oh, but you're going to love this."

The elevator finally reached the floor you needed to be on. You and Judith walked down the hallway hand in hand. Hesitantly, you reached in your pocket for the key that Jason had left you, his apartment key. You looked down at Judith's face one more time before you lined up the key and twisted the lock open. As the door opened, Judith peered inside, trying to see what was so special about some apartment. A body coming around the corner made her look up, a lamp casted light on a familiar face.

"Daddy!" Judith screamed. Her little legs ran as fast at they could, just to reach Jason.

"Hey, Sunshine." He smiled, reaching down to engulf her in a hug. One of his hands held her to him, and the other cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he pressed kisses to it. The corner of his eyes prickled, preparing for the tears that were rising. Jason stood up with Judith still in his arms, causing a small squeal to escape her, before he took an arm off of her and reached it out for you, welcoming you into their embrace.

"God, I've missed you." He whispered to her, still pressing his face into her hair. "I've missed you so much."

His arms hugged the both of you tighter, trying to lock you into place forever.

Eventually, you pulled your head away to look at both Judith and Jason. Watching as they too slowly pulled away so that they could look at each other.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, voice breaking from the emotions he's experiencing.

"Yeah!" Judith's eyes lit up. Jason let a wet laugh fall from his lips before he carried her into his kitchen. Holding her on a hip as he stirred something in a pot. You followed after them and smiled to yourself, unknowingly to the both of them you also happened to have your phone on you.

A picture of this would be nice.

"Are you hungry, baby?" Jason asked, staring down at the girl in his arms.

"Mhm.." She mumbled, laying her head against his collarbones. Jason gave you a quick glance before walking over to a room that was connected to the kitchen.

His apartment was far different than the one you shared on the "bad" side of Gotham. That apartment was dingy with one bedroom and no space for a kitchen table, leading to many nights of eating on the couch. Most of your furniture there had been hand me downs from Jason's many siblings, but it was your home. When you and Jason split ways, he had moved out and stayed with Roy for a bit before he eventually got himself another apartment where he got even more hand me down furniture.

This apartment was cleaner and more barren, almost like he never spent any time here. But he had the necessities to make it a starter home, a couch, TV, kitchen supplies, and a dining room set.

Despite your dislike for the man you used to love, you are happy for him. He seems healthier, physically and mentally.

"Where do you wanna sit?" He asked, pointing to the four chairs in the dining room.

"Next to you!" Judith yelled, pointing up at her father.

Jason noted that you had followed them into the room and rested upon the door frame. He looked back at you, silently asking if she could. You nodded your head, giving Jason the chance to set her down next to where he was about to sit. He rounded the table and pulled out a chair for you, motioning for you to sit down.

After he scooted you I to place, he retreated back to the kitchen, coming back a second later with a plate for you and Judith. As you looked down, you noticed what it was. The one thing you constantly craved when you were pregnant, and what just so happened to be Judith's favorite food.

"Chicken Alfred!" Judith yelled. No matter how many times you told her the correct pronunciation, she still called it 'Alfred'. It was a miracle that she liked it, no matter how many other pastas you get her to try. This is the one she loves.

Jason smiled down at Judith then walked back to the kitchen, returning with his own plate.

×

After dinner, you helped Jason clean up while Judith sat in the living room watching TV. The two or you worked side by side to do the dishes.

You noticed the glances that Jason would throw at you. After the fifth one, you sighed and put down the plate you were holding.

"What?" You asked, annoyed by his actions.

Jason, too, set down what he was holding. "I just didn't expect you to let her see me." He whispered.

You pursed your lips and thought of what to say. "Just because I have a problem with you doesn't mean she should too." You picked up the plate again and continued to wipe it with a sponge. "This doesn't mean I want you to be in our lives, I just want her to be happy."

~☆~

My mom makes this bomb homemade chicken Alfredo on my older brothers birthday (sometimes mine as well) and it's so fucking good. We call it "Birthday Alfredo".

Taglist: @keira324 @dakotali @22nranjan @skepvids @harpy-space @godknows-shetried @mirrorball-6 @macncheese69420666 @parkjammys @yyxy27 @burningkidanchor @elleclairez @amecchii @chickennugghon @marvelworldlover @oakexists @p0tterhead934 @makhaia @cassini-among-the-stars @tsukishimarawr @flowestallen @attackonnat @90s-belladonna @sucker4seresin

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #batman #batboys #batbros #batsiblings #x reader

[bobbasmultiverse]

strawberries & cigarettes

9. if we never try...

warnings: this is kinda from minghao's pov, profanity, teeth rotting fluff and someone being disgustingly in love that you'd want to puke for a brief moment, angst, smoking, suggestive themes

word count: 2189

song recs:

“you…you shouldn't be here.” you said, a bit timid at the sudden appearance of the wrong man in front of you.

minghao sighed, pursing his lips. “i know.”

“why are you here?”

“because soonyoung can't come.”

you were taken aback by that, blinking multiple times at the man before his mouth opened and closed. “what?”

“soonyoung can’t come. something came up for him and he…i don't know how to word this, but he forgot to tell you? seokmin said that, i don't know honestly.” he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “listen, y/n. i know i'm, like, probably the last person you'd want sitting in front of you, but i'm a gentleman, okay? and i can't just let a pretty girl get stood up on her first date back home."

you stared at him, unknowing of where he got all that info from. "well, um, thank you, i guess. but you didn't really have to come all the way here so i wouldn't get stood up. you could've just called mingyu and he would've picked me up, no biggie." you chuckled slightly, staring at the unused utensils in front of you.

minghao was baffled, staring at you like you grew two heads. had his words completely flown over your head? did he say the words wrong and you didn't understand his intentions? probably.

"no, listen. this date is still a date, just with a different dude. and it can be a onetime thing, no pressure. but the date is still dating." he smiled proudly, as if one of his paintings were hung in the louvre, but he was far from that, and you were still not on the same page. "don't-don't say a thing. just enjoy the time. i'm pretty fun when i'm not hiking, i promise. just order whatever food you want, okay? i might look like a broke college student, but i promise i'm not."

"you never look broke, though." you pointed out in a murmur, grabbing the menu without protesting and sifting through it. "you actually look like a prince. with all the long coats and expensive glasses and accessory."

now, minghao was taken aback. he felt his face heat up as well, but he blamed it on the not broken airco, in the five star restaurant that he is still baffled about how soonyoung was going to afford it, at the start of spring were it was still chilly outside. definitely the not broken airco.

you think he looks like a prince, when you look like a whole angel sitting in front of him, a small pout on your lips as you rummaged through the menu, with your hair done so beautifully and your make-up finished perfectly.

was seokmin right? no, no, he can't be. these are just a bunch of random thoughts passing through his mind. they're just passing through his mind and going away with no return.

your phone suddenly started vibrating out of nowhere, snapping the man out of his thoughts as you put the menu down and picked up the phone instead, a small smile taking over your features that had the corners of your mouth dipping in, a new set of dimples that minghao was yet to see, but is now blessed with.

"hey, hoon."

hoon? did you mean jihoon? the jihoon you were at pledis cafe with? probably. you seemed a little too happy to be talking to him though.

"yeah, but soonyoung was a no-show."

he couldn't hear the other half of the conversation, but he could decipher some through your reactions and your hushed replies.

"no, minghao came instead...yeah."

minghao squinted his eyes, leaning more onto the table and abandoning the menu. now, why were you giggling on the phone?

you glanced over minghao's face before your face heated up out of nowhere. "can you-can you not?" now, minghao could hear a very loud laugh escaping through the phone.

then, you were quiet for a bit, humming every once in a while at whatever that jihoon was telling you before you nodded to yourself. "okay, i'll see if gyu can drop a change of clothes for me so i can crash at yours ... yeah, okay, see you then. bye."

minghao straightened right away once you lowered the phone from your ear, clearing his throat and pretending like he hadn't been eavesdropping on your phone call. "did you decide what you're gonna have?"

you hummed, nodding. "buldak, but cut down on the hot chilli and bibimpap, zero spice. and if you want to add fries, that'd be okay." never once did you meet the man's eyes as you told him that. you didn't know if he was gonna order for you, but you hoped that he would.

minghao only frowned at you for a moment before he was shaking his head and turning to his own menu. he heard that you were a picky eater, from mingyu, of course, and that you'd give the man hell sometimes with cutting out the essential part of the meal, but minghao never knew he'd get to experience it first hand.

so minghao ordered for you, adding the fries and ignoring the weird look from the waiter before he turned back to you as you waited for the food. you'd just put your phone down, texting mingyu the address where he would leave your things for jihoon to get and fiddling with your fingers instead.

"so," he started, leaning on his elbows. "how was it like in LA? away from your family and all that."

your eyes sparked at that, finally meeting his eyes for maybe the second-no, third time tonight, and minghao felt as if he was tracing a whole constellation in your orbs. "it was good, actually. some people think that it would've been really bad, but it wasn't at all. it only made me appreciate my family more and have an extra brother and a second mother. taught me to appreciate lots of things here, too."

you were smiling while speaking, your gaze dropping from minghao's mid-talk, but he was satisfied with the cute dimples dipping in your cheeks and right above the corners of your lips when you spoke. and he wanted to see them more.

"what, exactly?"

you hummed for a moment, leaning forward on your elbows. you'd decided that minghao was harmless a while ago, deciding to spend a good time instead of dwelling on something too stupid for you to remember. "my language, my family, wonwoo and his stupid 'did you know's," you paused, giggling, and minghao couldn't help the smile making its way onto his lips. "my korean friends, too...yoon and ryu, they're the best, could never compare to the ones in LA, to be honest. oh! mingyu's cooking, too. it would feel heavenly whenever i'd visit with josh. and...that's it." you finished off with a full grin, directed at the man sitting across from you. "what about you? you came from china to here, so you must have a reason and things that you miss from home."

minghao's mouth opened and closed, eyes flitting between your own before a soft smile graced his face. "well, actually me getting into fine arts was never on my list, to be honest. it just happened and i found myself in it during my senior year, then i got a scholarship and came here." he shrugged with a sigh. "i'm chasing the dream, you know? i still miss my parents, though. and my hometown, hai cheng. but, that's only it i guess. i obviously miss the culture and all that, but...i can always hit the chinese restaurant at the end of the street."

that elicited a laugh from you, and minghao felt pride and glee fill his chest at that.

"it's not the same, though. i mean, i always hit the korean restaurants in LA, but it's not like here, still. it can never be like home." you mumbled, a soft, almost sad, smile appearing on your lips just as the waiter came with the food.

"so, see you later?" you started, shoving your hands in your puffer as you turned towards the taller man.

he frowned, pursing his lips. "why? the date's not over yet."

you frowned as well. "it's not."

he shook his head, putting his hand out for you to take. "i still got some things up my sleeve, you know?"

you stared at his face for a little while, trying to get the intentions behind those eyes, but minghao was a wise man, smart as well, always showing what he wants the others to see, and right now, it was the challenge in his eyes.

why is he taking it as a challenge? not that he and you were competing over something? unless...

"i think you one-upped soonyoung quite enough, don't you think?" it was rhetorical, hands sticking by your side while minghao's was still welcome to you for the taking.

"it isn't really about soonyoung anymore, don't you think?"

your defeated sigh had his smile widen, as he felt your hand slip into his, cold and gentle, and he held tightly onto it as he started guiding you towards his car. but, good things never last do they?

"y/n!"

minghao's face scrunched up as he let out a deep sigh, your hand slipping from his as you turned around to face the other man.

seokmin, you caused this.

"and minghao."

"soonyoung, hey." minghao greeted, turning to face the man with a wave and a tight smile. "didn't think you were gonna show up," minghao paused, raising his wrist up tauntingly and looking at his watch with his head tilted. "two hours and thirteen minutes late."

soonyoung gaped at the foreigner before he turned to you, looking like a deer caught in headlights with your eyes wide and face flushed from the chill of the night.

soonyoung knew that minghao was definitely not supposed to be there, but he also knew that what he did to you was not cool at all, and it was the last thing he wanted to do to you, yet he did it, and there he is, standing on the side walk, many feet away from you with another man by your side.

"y/n, i-i'm sorry. i...something came up and i tried to go and come back as soon as i could, i'm really sorry." soonyoung said, taking multiple steps towards you to maybe try and convince you, show you his sincerity.

meanwhile, minghao leaned on the wall next to him, watching soonyoung as he tried to reach out for your hand and you pulling back before he grabbed his phone to text his friend and cuss him out, the smirk never dropping from his plump lips.

"you could've texted, you know. i wouldn't mind, but knowing would've been good." you mumbled, taking a step back from the man in front of you who looked helpless, like a sad little hamster.

soonyoung sighed, looking down at his feet and pursing his lips. "i know my actions aren't justified, but-"

"you should know that another woman would've thrown something at you and told you to 'fuck off', soonyoung. but, you're my brothers friend, and maybe i shouldn't have agreed to this, so-"

"stop, please." he took in a deep breath, clenching his eyes and fists shut before he met your gaze. "next friday, 6 p.m. and if i'm late or something you don't like happens, you can do all that, and you won't ever see me again. i promise."

you frowned at the man. he looked really sincere with a fire burning in his eyes. he's a good guy, you can tell that much...and a date with him wouldn't be so bad.

it's not like you and minghao were a thing, anyways.

"okay."

"what?" you heard from behind you, turning briefly to look at the baffled minghao before turning to soonyoung. "next friday, 6 p.m. and if you're a no-show again, i promise i'll make sure your remaining days in uni are a living hell, soonyoung...or at least until i forgive you."

now the two men were taken aback by your words, so sweetly said yet so disturbing. minghao liked it, soonyoung didn't.

you turned to the chinese, who only smiled sweetly at you and gesturing for you to take the lead as you started walking and he just had to briefly wave at the stumped soonyoung as he turned to follow behind you.

and he led you to his car, only for you to stare at it in awe. "this definitely screams broke college student." you mumbled sarcastically, looking over the BMW8 before you.

the man chuckled, opening the door to the convertible for you to get in like a gentleman. "i forgot to mention that i'm kind of a big shot back home." he stated, shutting the door gently as you settled into your seat before he was by your side.

"i'd like to drive it someday, if you may." you sighed, relaxing into the seat.

he only smiled to himself. "you bet."

"this is really good."

you hummed in agreement, too busy with your own ice cream, and so you missed the way minghao was looking at you when he spoke.

you were back here, in that same parking lot where you first saw the man, but instead of sitting on the pavement like last time, you were resting back on his car's hood, enjoying the city lights of seoul, closer to midnight now.

as you chewed down on the end of your cone, you rummaged in your jacket's pockets until you fished out the kurumi themed cigarette pack, putting a stick in your mouth once you swallowed down the food.

"i remember telling you i'm not a smoking enthusiast."

you glanced at him briefly, cigarette now lit as you hummed before tucking it between your fingers and pulling it away from your mouth. "i remember, too. yet you still got me a lighter."

he sighed, crossing his arms. "cause you looked upset, and it didn't suit you, even though you looked kind of cute."

you chuckled, turning towards him. "was the wine too much for you? are you drunk right now?"

he frowned, pouting slightly at you. "why'd you think that?"

"cause you just called me cute, and you shouldn't be doing that." you pointed out, blowing the smoke into the open night, only for minghao's face to scrunch up for a split second at that before turning to you.

"why?"

you shut your eyes, enjoying the breeze hitting your skin with a content smile on your face. "cause you know that soonyoung likes me."

"but do you like him?"

"why are your questions always like this?" you whined, turning away only for him to laugh at you and lean back more on the hood.

"no, but i'm serious, though. do you like him?"

humans are curious creatures, and minghao was no exception.

he watched you take a deep breath, look around for a bit before your gaze settled on your shoes. "i don't know, honestly. he's a nice guy, funny, kinda hot, too. but, i don't know. i guess i was gonna know if the date went through with him, but now i'll know next friday."

your shoes seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world now as you and minghao stared at it.

a million thoughts running through both your minds in the quiet of midnight, two kidults maneuvering through life, trying to take the best decisions you could manage, avoiding risks as best as you could, but...minghao was a risker.

"you know," he paused turning to you so he looked into your eyes, a surge of confidence going through his veins as the veil hiding his emotions dropped and minghao felt naked before you. "i'm a nice guy, i can be funny, too, if you want. and i'm definitely hot, don't you think?"

the shock was visible in your eyes as the smoke rose from the deadly stick while you stared at the man. a smile slowly rose on your lips, and minghao felt hope fill his chest. "but, you're kinda mysterious. a little emo, maybe? definitely hot, though." a giggle escaped your lips at the mock offence on the man's face as he crossed his arms across his chest like a little child.

maybe this was you rejecting him, declaring that he wasn't your type and that he should know that this is a one time thing. but, maybe you were correcting him, and that he was your type and not soonyoung, but also you could only be joking around, not serious about the matter and not planning on-

"don't work your pretty mind too hard, you can spend it on more important things."

he blinked at you, looking so ethereal with the moon lighting up your face and the smoke surrounding you. minghao didn't know whether you lit up another one, or if it was the same, but he thought that was enough smoking for the night.

"you're important, though."

and that small questioning hum, that small split second that you took to face him, that gentle touch of his hands on your cheeks, and that blissful feeling of his lips landing on yours, it was all so...beautiful.

the tobacco on minghao's tongue wasn't his taste, he didn't prefer it, but it was still coating your lips. your cherry tinted, heavenly and soft lips that minghao was currently lavishing as if it was his last meal.

he'd managed to throw the stick away from your hands without burning himself, promising that he'd pick it up later and discard it properly, but he was a bit caught up at the moment.

your hands were supporting you on the hood of his car, taking a second too long to process it that minghao had already pulled away from, eyes flitting between yours as the ghost of his touch remained on your lips.

"go with soonyoung on the date, but fuck it if i don't want you to come back to me, baby." he took heavy breaths as he said those words, gaze so intense you felt like crumbling at his command. "i know it's too early for this, too early for anything really...and too soon. but...i think i like you, y/n."

and then you were kissing him.

previous | masterlist | next

pairing: kwon soonyoung x wonwoo's sister!oc, xu minghao x wonwoo's sister!oc (ft. SVT)

genre: college au, love triangle, brother's bestfriend, angst, fluff

synopsis: two minor, what you'd call, incidents, lead up to the craziest few months of your life, where you make friendships and break some and you end with having to make the craziest choices of your life; to be young and free forever, or to have the best love of all time.

bobba talks | this was initially a very fluffy chapter that it'd hurt my stomach from the butterflies, but it turned out like this cuz my profession is angst and drama, i'm not sorry

#damn this was intense #this chapter is the mingyu to my seungcheol #Spotify #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #xu minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seventeen x reader #hoshi imagines #the8 imagines #seventeen imagines #hoshi fluff #the8 fluff #seventeen fluff #hoshi angst #the8 angst #seventeen angst #hoshi smau #the8 smau #seventeen smau #seventeen scenarios #svt smau #svt angst #svt x reader #svt imagines #minghao imgines #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #minghao smau

[bajablastwrites]

Saiki with a Hispanic s/o

Saiki x fem reader

Authors Note: this took a way too long but I finally finished it! This is pretty short cuz I don’t want to feel like I’m repeating myself with the Brazilian one. I tried to keep it as vague as possible so it’s not to a specific country, but I also had to add details from what I’ve seen in my family and from friends and their families too.

—————————————————————————————

How you guys met is up to your imagination. All that matters is that he thought he would never see you again, but here you are in Japan, standing in front of him and his classmates as you introduced yourself to them.

You thought the same thing too until you saw him when you walked into class. After you introduced yourself you sat at an empty seat and waited until class ended to reintroduce yourself to him.

He read your mind and was ready to leave as room as the bell rung to avoid you, but he couldn’t find a valid reason to do so. I mean you don’t have a crush on him or anything like that, you just want to talk to him about how odd it was that you’d see him here.

Everyone thought your Japanese was really good for a foreigner, but the pronunciation of Spanish and Japanese aren’t really that different so you definitely didn’t struggle with that. Learning the language as a whole was a different story however.

As per usual you made friends with Saiki’s group and liked any good friendship that develops, you invited them to your house. You were a little nervous to serve them food from your country because you weren’t sure if they’d like it, so you went with a dish that was simple to make and separated the hot sauce (chile) so they can add as much as they want or not at all if they don’t like spicy food.

Needless to say they really enjoyed your food and wanted to know if you can make it again some other time.

Now back to Kusuo himself-

Because you met him first you were already close to him so he likes to come to your house sometimes and hang out or just to eat whatever sweet bread you want him to try— which he isn’t complaining because he really likes them.

If you introduce him to the candy he’s a little confused, mostly because most of the candy has some sort of spicy seasoning on it. He likes some but finds most to either be too spicy or just taste bad to him. So he stays with the sweet bread.

He also introduces you to some Japanese foods and snacks, so it’s not completely one sided.

Onetime you gave him fruit with Tajin seasoning on them and he went “why does everything have to be spicy.” But he ate it anyways and he liked it so it’s ok.

You know the face Kusuo makes when he’s eating coffee jelly, you make the same fact but with Tajin, man watched you eat the seasoning by itself and was distraught. It looked so cursed to him because you’re just eating straight seasoning. He got used to it and depending if Japan sells the seasoning or not he’ll buy it or just teleport to a store that does sell it and take a bottle for you. (you ever had Lucas candy with the spicy power, I used to just eat the powder without the candy sometimes. But upgraded to just eating Tajin straight from the bottle💀)

He likes it when you cook for him, your food is really tasty. He doesn’t ask you to do it often but he does like to hint at it sometimes. Sometimes you guys trade lunches, he’ll give you some of his lunch and you give him some of yours. Teruhashi was feeling some type of way after witnessing that, but rationalized it as Kusuo wanting make you feel welcomed to get her attention. Kusuo sat there listening to her thoughts like “???” He was so confused but made sure to stay by you to make sure Teruhashi didn’t harass you or did anything of the sort.

Like a typical Hispanic you also have a big family and you go and visit them during the holidays. Kusuo was curious and wanted to tag along with you so (with a bit of mind control) he was able to join you and your parents. He was very well fed during the time he spent with your family.

Very respectful of your culture and he thinks you look really nice in your culture’s traditional clothing. He likes you and whatever your culture has to offer. He’ll willing to try all sorts of foods you make him— as long as it’s not too spicy, he prefers not to be in pain and have a runny nose while trying to enjoy a meal you made him.

#kusuo saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #saiki hc #saiki k hcs #saiki k headcanons #saiki headcanons #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusou no psi nan #saiki k no psi nan

[flowering-thought]

Hey! I recently discovered your ocs and I love them very much <3 You're pretty good on making them feel like actual people! I know you have a lot on your plate right now so feel free to ignore this if want!! How would the brothers react to a darling who, when they confessed, wrote it off as a (cruel) joke because there's no way a handsome guy such as themselves likes them?

Hope you take care! I'm super invested on your children so I may or may not make some fanart of them 👉👈 hope it's okay?

Omg hi!! Oo I quite like your idea cause ngl I've done that too babe <3

A reminder that you're beautiful though <3

I'll give all the aggressive love ya need on those insecure days and so will the Kawahara's-

As for fanart feel free!! Ngl I love hearing people's ideas and if someone makes fanart I just melt jrksksnwkw

I hope you're having a good start to the new year!! So let's get with this-

Not double read so there might be spelling errors 🫠

Takeo then Daisuke then Makoto <3

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Takeo after some months of getting to know you in person, finally confessed. He decided to do it while you two were meeting for coffee.

He always wanted to make it more elaborate, maybe ask you out with some fancy sign or with an elaborate gift, or maybe even a treasure hunt! But somehow the sunlight hit you just right and as he sat across from you he couldn't help but feel like he'd burst if he didn't tell you how pretty you were.

"I really like you!" Was what he blurted out, a small blush reaching the tips of his ears. He felt the urge to smack his head on the table but decided it was now or never. His fingers fiddled with each other anxiously as he looked up to your slightly shocked expression.

"I really like you and would you maybe go on a date with me?" He asked. But you only sat there confused before a small chuckle left your lips, "Oh come on that's not even a funny joke Kawahara! You're way too handsome for someone like me!" You say, the slight twinge in your chest hurts but you really didn't take him seriously.

And Takeo felt his heart nearly explode. He wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. "I'm serious." He said, his tone becoming neutral as he stared right at you.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met both inside and out and I don't care what anyone says you're the only one I want. So I'm serious when I say that I like you and want to go out with you." He claimed. He felt so serious that you had completely froze.

Takeo reached one of his hands across the table to take one of yours and give it a squeeze, "Please give it some thought. I seriously want to be something more with you. This isn't a onetime thing and ever since I saw you I knew I wanted to ask you out.".

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Daisuke had many worries swirling through his head. He had gotten to know you for a bit before he was absolutely sure he couldn't live without you.

His head was filled with thoughts of dates and seeing new reactions and complimenting you. He couldn't wait to just hold you in his arms on a rainy day and read peacefully. He envisioned doing so many thing with you that would only prove you to be his.

So here you were, hanging at the bar, petting Mikan on your lap with a big smile on your face as you talked with Daisuke. Honestly Daisuke is east to talk to. He loves listening and when you ask him about a novel he's interested in for the week he goes on about something new he learned and how the plot is going and his eyes light up in a way you adore.

And he loved that. The way you listened to him with genuine interest, your hand holding your head and the soft gleam in your eye as you listened to him ramble. It wasn't till he went silent that you waved your hand in front of his face with a soft smile.

"Kawahara? You alright?" You ask, tilting your head out of habit as you question him.

"Would you be mine?" He asked, that moment of transparency in his emotions slipping out without thought. You reeled back a bit, unsure of what you heard. "What?"

Daisukes' eyes widened when he realized what he said and his hand went to grab the cloth he used to dry off the counter and hold it tight, "Well! Um! Would you maybe go out with me?" He asked, a little unsure as he repeated what he really meant.

You smiled awkwardly before fumbling with your hands, "Very funny, I don't think many would make a joke like that though.." You mumbled. Daisuke felt his grip on the towel tighten at your words.

A joke?? How could he ever joke about his feelings for you? He nearly felt himself cry before he hardened his resolve and looked you straight in the eye.

"I'm serious! I haven't felt like this for anyone before. You're the only one I've ever felt this way about. Please don't turn me down without thinking about it!"

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Makoto had been going to your bakery quite often. He loved the smell of sweets and warm fresh baked goods. The warmth of your bakery felt so lovely on a cold morning before work.

Sometimes he came after work just to get to see you a bit more. He always told himself that he was going to do more than make conversation with you.

But when he'd make his order and covers with you he'd get so lost in conversation that his mind couldn't think about anything else other than you're voice and the calm and lovely way you'd talk to him and make the effort to make him feel comfortable.

And he noticed that you didn't treat other customers the same. You talked with him more, laughed with him more, you actually seemed happy each time he came in.

And he thrived on that smile you gave him each and every time.

And one morning, when there was no one around and he saw your pretty lips curve into a smile, he knew it had to be then.

So he walked right up and as you asked him how his morning was and that you had made a new batch of his favorite sweets ready for him he stared right at you with the most serious expression and blurted out, "Would you go on a date with me?".

A minute od silence passed till he noticed your anxious look. The way your body nearly caved in on itself and how you almost looked lost for words. "Is this maybe a prank? Maybe one of your coworkers put you up to this?" You asked, almost looking like you'd tear up as you stood there.

Makoto nearly felt his heart break at your expression and frowned. He knew you had to like him? So did you really think that he would play such a horrible prank? That he disregarded your feelings to the point he'd do something so horrendous?

He almost wondered if your reaction was due to experence and nearly felt his blood boil till he realized he needed to come up with a reply.

So he calmed his heart best and shook his head.

"It's not. I really find you adorable and I was really hoping you'd give me a chance. I don't mind waiting for your answer and I come in every day so don't feel pressured to give me one until you're ready! But I'm serious when I say I want to get to know you better. If you give me a chance I promise I'll make it worth your time."

#.daisuke_kawahara_♡ #.takeo_kawahara_♡ #.makoto_kawahara_♡ #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #soft yandere #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #chubby reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male

[guillotinna]

neighbor simon x fem reader halloween pt. 2

Heres the Neighbor! simon halloween continuation literally 1 person asked for. heres pt.1 for context

yall know the drill: MDNI this is 18+ SMUT

Word count: 1500~

As he flexes the hands he placed on your hips, Simon thinks very carefully about his next move. He finally has you where he's wanted you for months. You fit into him so perfectly it's sick. God, he's pathetic. His cute neighbor gives him a few compliments, and he nearly loses it. You stare back at him intently, trying to decipher the myriad of emotions you see in his eyes. "We don't have to if you don't want to. I won't be upset, you know, " you whisper as you run your hands through his hair. He can't even believe you think he wouldn't want this. In fact, he's fighting for his life right now. "God, no. I mean, yes, I want this, but not just this." He coyly buries his face into your midsection, but you see the soft red that highlights the tip of his ears. Cute. "Simon. Look at me. " You gently move your hands from where they were clasped behind his neck to his cheeks, lifting his head to face you. You find tired eyes staring back at you. Eyes that tell you this same situation has happened before, and it didn't end well. "Simon, I mean it when I say I truly don't think you could get rid of me if you wanted to. It's hard to sleep when I don't hear you on the other side of that wall. It's hard for me to not bother you any chance I get. It's so god damn hard not to moan your name when I have random guys over. Fuck". Now it's your turn to hide. As you tuck your face into his neck, you continue. "So Many nights I think how you could have fucked me better. I think about what recipes I should make for you because I know you forget to eat. I think about what excuses I can make to get you to come over. All the time, it's just you. What have you done to me Simon Riley?".

When you feel his grip tighten around you even more, you decide you've waited enough. You grab his face again but this time, your meet in the middle. As you take each other in, tongues prodding at each other, you feel Simon shift under you. You begin kissing down his neck. "I reaallly" *Kiss* "don’t" *kiss* "want" *kiss* "this" *kiss* "to be a onetime thing". As your tongue trails down his throat, he can't help but swear out loud that he will do everything in his power for this to not be a one and done situation. "F- fuck. Love, please just-". That sign enough for you. As you rise slightly, you drag the tiny, joke of a skirt you were wearing up exposing tight lace panties. You huff a laugh as "Jesus fuck" leaves Simon's mouth. While you're still raised up, you start working on the button and zipper of his cargo pants. You bite your lip as you both stare down at his hard cock. It's already leaking, leaving a small stain on his boxers. Jesus fuck is right. You start to slowly stroke him over the fabric, eagerly taking in any and every groan that slips past his lips. Simon had already realized his crush on you was bad but with your hand on his dick and ass in his hands, he's coming to realize this may be worse than he thought.

"Please love. Need mo- more. Fuck". As you nip the space under his ear, you can't help but oblige. You finally slip your hand in his boxers, pumping him faster, kissing him harder and tightening the grip your free hand had on his nape. You both watch as his cock twitches, aching to cum. "Fuck already?" You wonder aloud. Shit. "Sorry, that sounded bad again. You're just so fucking hot, might actually die if we don't keep going" you explain. You relax a little when he lets out a small chuckle followed by a groan. "You and me both love" you place your lips on his hoping that might stop you from blurting our anymore out of pocket statements. That, and you just really want to kiss him. As your kiss gets deeper and Simon's pants get heavier, the hand you hand on his neck finds its way to his balls. "Ngn- holy shit" Simon exclaims and his heads tips back onto the couch. "Keep going. Please fuck" you keep pumping him until he comes with a groan that sends a wave of arousal through you. As Simon catches his breath, you bring your fingers to your mouth for a taste, moaning around them as you lick the cum off. "More?" "Yes. God yes. Please don’t stop" you stand up to remove the skirt as well as the constricting top you had on. Clad only in your bra and underwear you drag your hands under Simon's shirt to remove it. "Shit. You really were hiding stuff under those layers". He cheekily replies with a breathy "told you".

Once you get him down to your ideal state of undress, you settle yourself back on his lap. Grabbing his hand in yours, you guide him to the lace panties he swears he's seen in his dreams. Using his fingers, you move the fabric covering your hole to the side. Simon tries to keep his fingers there longer but you're past that, you need his cock. Now. You steady yourself on top of his lap while he makes his grip on your waist impossibly tighter. As you slip yourself onto him, you bite your lip, sighing. He grunts as he bottoms out.

Giving him barely anytime to adjust, you lift yourself up just to slam back down on his huge dick. "Fuck. Easy there love". "Can't. Need you so bad. Please Simon, I- nng need it". This might be the night he dies, he's sure of it. Death by pussy. Not a bad way to go if you ask him. As you grind yourself on him even faster, he moves his hands to your thighs. "Y/n, shit- if you don't slow down ah- I'm gonna- fuuckk" you ignore his halfhearted warning and continue riding him. God he's massive. Shit. You look down and let out a long moan once you realize you can see the bulge of his dick as he plunges in you. Curious as to what elicited that noise from your pretty lips, he follows your line of sight to the small bump in your stomach. "Fuck". Simon growls, grip returning to your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. "Ah- Jesus Christ. How did you manage to get deeper" you ask as you snake one of your hands over the bulge his cock makes. As you press down, you clench around him leading you to both let out loud moans. "Y/n. Y/n if you- shit, If you do that again I'll cum". God, he just had to fall for a fucking minx.

You push even harder on the bulge, soon moving one of Simon's hands to it as well. "God I can't believe how big you are. How fucking deep, you get. You're incredible" at this point, you don't even know what words are falling out of your mouth but as he twitches inside you and you feel that telltale heat build in your stomach, you know you won't be doing much talking in a minute. Feeling both of your approaching climaxes, Simon thrusts harder, grunting as you tighten around him even more. "Shit shit shit shit fuck ng-" he comes inside you hard with your release following shortly behind. You slump against his chest while you both catch your breaths.

After a few minutes of silence, he asks "were you right?". Confused, you ask if you were right about what. "Right about me being a better fuck than those pricks you've been with". Sensing his cheekiness, you reply with "I don't know you tell me, have you ever heard those sounds come from me when you listened with your ear against my wall". Simon feigns offense swearing he was a gentleman who would never...until you ask him how Many of your hookups, he's "accidently overheard" on purpose. He evades the question by kissing you deeply and helping you off his lap. He’s off the hook this time but you'll get the answer eventually. Even if you have to fuck it out of him. As you both begin to gather yourselves, the reality of the situation sets in.

Except you don't feel the sense of doom and anxiety you had honestly expected. Instead, you see the goofy smile painted on Simon's face, marks on his neck, and cum on his lap and revel in the man you finally get to call yours. As you go to the bathroom to clean up, Simon stays planted on the couch, grinning still. This was real. You really chose him. No one had done that before. He can't help but smile. Finally, he has you. In his arms, in his heart, in his mind, hell, even his bed. He doesn’t have to dream anymore, he truly has you and absolutely nothing could take you away from him. Fuck, he was in deep.

#i learned what sex was for this so yall better be greatful #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Spotify

[insomniac-dot-ink]

By the Morning Light

Rory chased off two junkyard dogs on his way into the salvage yard that morning. He called one of them Pesto (short for Pest) and the other Barnaby because Rory thought it a hateful name. “Serves you right, Barnaby,” he groused. The creature always stuck his nose in Rory’s crotch and nosed his pockets for food. None here, Pesto. It was early and the only sounds came from squawking birds and snuffling animals.

This scrap yard had been abandoned decades before Rory was alive. The only things left were the carcasses of 90’s computers and the plastic frames of microwaves. Metal and filaments and anything smaller than a breadbox had already been scooped up. There weren't even flies left. But Rory was small and if he went alone, he figured he might have better luck.

Rory swung his stick back forth, poking stray office chairs and wilted carboard boxes. He made it halfway across the fenced area. Then the air filled with charms. The corner of his eyes prickled and his throat closed. Something sang out. Maybe because the scrap yard was empty. Maybe because spring began in earnest. Maybe because he was the unlucky sort.

There was a glow like sun off fresh snow and the scent of rain. She asked for blood.

“Hello?” His voice sounded brittle to his own ears. Rory clenched down and called louder, “You want something?” He wiped away the stray tears and squared his shoulders. Too damn early for this. Following the noise, he rounded a mossy refrigerator.

Time seemed to draw to a halt. His eyes went wide. It was like something out of the bible or a fairy tale–though Rory hadn’t read much of either. He tilted his head all the way back. She was long and twisty like inverted smoke, glowing white instead of charcoal. Her form zigzagged across the space, stark against the piles of junk and drab trees. Dogs yapped in the distance and birds took flight behind her head.

She spoke again. Rory winced.

“Excuse me?” he asked, voice shaking only a little. His hearing wasn’t very good and a part of him was hoping he’d blink and she would be gone. That it wouldn’t speak again. That angel’s asking for blood was a onetime thing and she’d lose interest.

The thing looked like a headache brewing in your frontal lobe. He tried not to look too closely. Two pairs of eyes became twenty. Snaky arms became branches that became trees. Wings stretched so big you forget the sky.

She spoke again. Her voice was chimes and gongs and things that reverberated through your bones. Not words at all but you knew what they meant. She asked for blood.

“Right now?” Rory rubbed his arm. The thing should know that he wasn’t a bible man. Even if this was normal from biblical times, but he didn’t go around losing his mind or asking for favors. He squinted into the angel's face. “I'm kind of busy. Find a priest maybe? I’m not one of yours.”

He bowed his head slightly, trying not to offend her. It was one of those ugly-beautiful things. Like how people describe Abraham Lincoln in their journals. Rory’s dad had a thing about old Abe, but he supposed you have to be about something.

Rory wasn’t interested in finding his thing right then– such as feeding Angel’s blood.

She said something and the sentence took a whole minute to form. An offering. Rory narrowed his eyes, gripping the stick in his hand tighter. “What would I want your blood for?” Blood for blood. That didn’t seem like much of a deal for someone who didn’t drink the stuff. He took a step back. “You one of those demons they go on about? Like, a disguised one?” The angel’s entire form rippled. She reached out a long and splintering hand, fracturing in light like bolts of lightning. He covered his eyes to stop white spots from filling his vision. She said her name and he doubled over. A real headache thumped behind his eyes.

“Alright, alright!” he called out, covering his ears and gasping for air. “You’re an angel. I hear you.” Luckily, she didn’t say her name again. Though she asked for blood.

“And what if I don’t get it for you?” he griped. He he didn’t visit junkyards to adopt stray dogs or feed holy animals. The whole damn world wants something.

The smoke rippled and the angel’s form seemed to shudder. She pulled back and Rory drew closer, yielding his stick like a shield. The angel seemed to be springing from an old truck. A terrible rusty beast with the tires popped, the front half crushed, and hood sprouting grass.

The angel appeared to grow from the inside like a plant as something silvery coated the seats. She repeated her plea.

Rory wrinkled his nose. “Tell me what you want it for.” Unbelievable. Bargaining with the devil. His dad would love this one if he didn’t interrogate him about being alone out here. Because that’s how you get the good stuff, dad.

He kind of wished his dad was there now. The angel cocked her head to the side and there was something deeply human about the movement. A sickness washed over him and Rory shuddered. The chimes clamored inside his skull.

“Okay, okay! You're not a demon!” He put up his hands. “I don’t need your name again, jeez.”

Rory huffed, studying the creature. He wondered if it was here because of a shrine built on the hill once upon a time or if because of the remoteness. Scavengers and nature alike had stripped it of most things. Trees growing up through stray tires and vines growing up through the bones of bicycles. He jutted his chin out.

“This isn’t really angel country.” The thing had to know that the people who prayed to angels were in the cities. Single mothers and television personalities and Los Vegas gamblers on a hot streak. He wanted to tell the angel to go find them, but instead he asked, “Do you really grant miracles? Is that how this works?”

The smoke of the angel rippled and the voice coursed through him. The ugly-beautifulness of it like rain slick days where puddles filled with oily rainbows. Or how his father cried at the TV show MASH every night for a week.

Rory looked up. “Promise?”

The angel promised. He searched his pockets and rounded the truck, keeping the creature in view. Fourteen and he’d have to add “encounters” to his bullshit stories no one would believe. His neighbor Florence would love that– she’d been abducted in ‘93 she swore. Right before her husband passed away in the crash.

Rory held out his hand. “Only a little.” The angel twisted in place, looming overhead like the sun. Rory held his breath. Time seemed to slow, and he studied the headache of her face. He held the knife to his palm. “Just a little . . .” he repeated.

She opened her maw. There were teeth somewhere and a light so immense that itched down your throat and into your palms. Something twinkled within and collapsed within a blink. Glittering and cold, the mouth opened wide.

A bird called from somewhere and Rory paused. He was lucky.

A junkyard dog jumped on the roof of the car. Rory barely had time to react. “Don’t!”

The smoke cleared and he knew then, he knew. Rory fell to his knees. Tears sprang to his eyes and fell freely. "Wait!"

The angel caught the dog in both hands and the mouth that wasn’t a mouth bit down. The dog didn’t bleed. It was reduced to a tiny whining ball of fur. The puppy kicked its feet to the air. The angel twisted its splintering hands. A grown ancient hound bayed to the heavens.

Elderly dog to puppy and back again, expanding and collapsing all at once. The air burned a silvery-white. Rory's ears rang. Singing and roaring and weeping in a way that was singing. And then nothing.

He wiped at his eyes, pressing his palms into the sockets. He found the spots wouldn’t disappear. The minutes slowly sank back in. Grass imprinted against his cheek. A stray cicada called. His muscles ached and he realized he was curled up on the ground. An earthy smell and something a bit rotted reminded him to breath.

A lone car passed in the distance. Rory flexed his hands over and over and unlocked his knees. He turned onto his side, inhaling in and out.

The ancient truck had disappeared. A broken stove and several keyboards were stacked in place of the angel. Dogs barked from somewhere and the sun warmed Rory’s face. His ears rang and when he got to his feet, his knees shook.

He ran all the way home. His dad grabbed his shoulders on the way in and studied his face. Rory never found the words to explain the shaking or why he might not stop. Instead, he sat on the couch drinking warm milk and watched MASH for a fourth time. Watching his father from the corner of eye. What if I hadn't come home? He stopped going to the junkyard alone.

Several weeks passed before he found out. A family had died in a car crash in ‘93. The fact burned like a sunburn in his head. That’s what Florence had said about the crash–his Florence. This Florence said they got lucky. Everyone gets lucky sometimes, she said.

Rory’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth at that.

He didn’t start going to church even if he should have. Fear and belief wrapping into one.

Rory started adopting dogs from off the street. Wrapping them in his arms and carrying them all the way home even as they kicked and nipped. Pesto was first. She shook as he untangled her long fur, wrapping the sores on her paws and shaving off the mats. He asked her if she remembered. If there were two of them. God, he murmured. He hoped so. Little creatures have to stick together.

—————-

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed the story please consider buying me a coffee, and check out my Sapphic urban fantasy book 🌸

#supernatural story #short story #flash fiction #angels and demons #writing #writeblr #long post #spooky story

[captainshurley]

Baby I'm not alright, but I'm okay (Part 3)

Cash Wheeler x f reader

Previous chapter

In the morning, Wheeler woke up with a bad hangover. His head was buzzing literally to the point of nausea. There were a bottle of water and a couple headache pills on the table next to him that made him feel a little better. "I don't remember bringing all this stuff yesterday. I don't remember a lot of things though. Like how I got home, for example." As he got out of bed, he felt his muscles aching, especially his arms and legs. Strange. Enough time had passed since the last match that the effects were hardly bothering him anymore.

"Cashy, baby, if you're up already, I'm at the kitchen making some breakfast for us," Dan heard a woman's voice from the first floor, making his head start to hurt again.

Wheeler looked around and saw a few obviously feminine things scattered around the room. He had definitely not left the party alone. He tried to remember the girl's name... Mandy? Barbara? Nah... Maybe Kristen?

"Don't remember."

He put on his shorts and went down to the kitchen, where the smell of breakfast wafted through the house.

"Morning, beautiful," Daniel found a solution so he couldn't go wrong with the name.

"Morning, tiger boy" the girl smiled at him and placed a plate of fried eggs and bacon on the table "Sit down, everything is ready."

Dan took a seat at the table and looked around the girl trying to remember anything after all. The girl was indeed quite attractive and sexy. This was especially emphasized by his t-shirt, which she wore for comfort. But her voice was something impossible. It was so high, it sounded like it could be tortured. Moments began to surface in my mind.

A few shots in company. Lots of funny conversations. He texts someone in DM on Instagram. "SHIT! I'll have to check who I wrote to and what I wrote. Hopefully not Tony." Then he's already in Stacey's company. Kissing, cab, sex.

"Thanks for breakfast, Stacey, but I..." started Dan, pushing his plate away, but he was interrupted by the girl herself.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't blab to anyone about our relationship. They'll be a secret."

WTF?!

"Wait, wait a second, relationship? You misunderstood me... I may have, yesterday, acted like an asshole, but this one is all..." Dan gestured around them both "it's just a onetime thing. Not a relationship. Sorry" He fell silent and for the first time in the conversation raised his eyes to the girl.

The girl froze in place, clearly not expecting this turn of events. She seemed ready to burst into tears.

"WHAT?!" her voice cut through the tense silence in the house, hitting his ears. "You mean I'm just a whore to you! I can't believe it! Yesterday you were so polite and attentive. Talking the whole-time during sex about how good I was for you and how good you felt with me, and it was just a one-time thing?!"

She slapped him and quickly ran upstairs to the bedroom, apparently to look for her clothes.

Wheeler rubbed his cheek burning from the slap. "Deservedly so," he thought. He himself didn't understand why he was acting this way. He had been in serious, long-term relationships where he really cared about his girlfriends. But after the last breakup, something changed inside him. He closed himself off from others, started acting like a man who doesn't want anything serious and lives for one moment. Only a few people knew the real him and saw him "playing his role for others".

A couple minutes later, the front door slammed, announcing that Stacy had left.

Cash found his phone and logged onto Instagram. A picture of Harwoods with a girl he met at a party last night appeared in the feed. Recalling again that he had been texting someone, he opened his private messages and found a conversation with a user under the nickname "Tiny Cherry." Apparently, that was the person he had wrote to yesterday. He opened the message and began to reread it.

"I'm certainly not a criminal, but I wouldn't mind you handcuffing me."

Ugh. How gross.

"Disgusting" replied Tiny Cherry.

Wheeler opened Tiny Cherry's account and realized that this was the girl who had introduced herself to him at the party as y/n. Daniel himself became disgusted at how disgusted his pickup line sounded.

He went back to the dialog, quickly typed "Sorry" and hit send.

Dan closed Instagram, went to messages with David, and sent a message to him "I think I fucked up.”

Y/n had spent her entire work shift with her partner keeping the streets in order for some important person to arrive.

She was distracted for a second by an Instagram post, but her partner managed to notice the change in the girl's face.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, stepping a little closer.

"Uh, no. It's just some guy sent a really dumb ride yesterday, and now apparently he's realized how disgusting it is."

Y/n turned the phone's screen toward her partner so he could read it. At first, her partner's face expressed nothing but amusement with a dash of mild disgust. There are a lot of guys who text this kind of thing to girls, for reasons unknown. It certainly wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last. But when he saw the name "Cash Wheeler" and opened the profile to see if it was really the person he thought it was, his expression changed. It now expressed pure surprise.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Wait, you're being hit on by Cash Wheeler! Seriously????"

"Well yeah, it looks like it. Not a big deal" not really paying much attention to who exactly is doing it replied y/n and put the phone away.

"Y/n, it's not. From what I've heard about him h, he's a pretty good opportunity to switch things up after your past relationship."

"I don't think it's time already and that he is the right person. I don't want one-night stands or friends with benefits. Hell, I don't even know him!"

Harwood and Wheeler met at lunchtime for a short workout at the gym. While they were changing, Daniel told all what he had done.

"What did you do?! You did exactly what I asked you not to do, Dan!". Harwood was clearly pissed at the way his friend had acted.

"I know, I know! I screwed up. And I'm really sorry. I already texted her that I'm sorry, but she read it and didn't say anything back. I don't know what else to do to make it right. She seemed nice and I guess I really liked her. Not like the others, you know" Wheeler tried to defend himself.

David was silent for a while, calming down and considering something.

The silence was getting more and more pressing with each passing second. It got to the point where Daniel thought for a moment that his best friend was about to hit him. He wouldn't even be surprised if that happened, because everyone knew about David's reverent attitude toward his friends and loved ones. And even the fact that you are one of those friends won't save you. 

Thinking of the situation, David assured himself that maybe y/n liked his best friend because they had been through similar situations. Each of them had chosen their own way of how to deal with it all.

"Do you really like her?" asked Harwood after a while to his friend.

"Yeah, I think so" replied Daniel lowering his gaze down.

"Okay, I'll talk to her. But if you really want to get her you have to promise me you won't hurt her and you'll be patient. She's not the kind of girl who's gonna jump in your arms with you on the third day. Show understanding, consideration, care and don't pressure her into anything. Promise me that."

"I promise, Dav."

Wheeler always kept his word no matter what and Harwood always knew it.

In the evening, David called y/n and took a long time choosing his words and tried to explain to her everything that had happened and apologized many times for his friend.

"It's not your fault, David. I did nothing to apologize for. Your friend acted like a douchebag, but I'll forget him and let go of the situation."

"Then I'll invite you to the dinner on Sunday if you are Free. He'll be there if you're don't mind" Suggested Harwood already planning how he would properly introduce Daniel to her.

"Okay, it's a deal. Dinner on Sunday. Say hi to Maria" replied y/n and a smile could be heard in her voice.

"I will. Goodnight y/n." 

The fact that y/n had agreed to at least be in the same space as Daniel was already a good sign. Perhaps something would actually come of this.

"Good night, David."

Next chapter

#ftr #cash wheeler x reader #cash wheeler #cash wheeler imagine #dax harwood #x y/n #all elite wrestling #aew #aew x reader #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew fic #Daniel Wheeler

[noforkingclue]

“This escalated rather quickly.” for Bond

-🐺

So I was planning on updating 'Dead or Alive' but unfortunately I've hit a bit of writers block with it.

Anyway, hope you like the fic :)

Title: Dinner

Prompt list- list

James Bond tag list: @mxacegrey

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You took a sip of your drink as you looked out of the window of the restaurant you and Bond were in. People passed by but paid the two of you no attention. It was strange to feel so invisible in your own city.

“So,” you said causing Bond to look up from his meal, “this escalate rather quickly.”

“How do you work that out?” he asked

“Well,” you shrugged and gave him a small smile, “how did we end up here? Out to dinner.”

“I asked, you said yes.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that’s not quite how I remember it.”

Bond leant back in his chair and smirked at you. You had the sudden urge to throw his drink over him and, almost sensing it, he picked it up.

“Then how do you remember it?” he asked

“I had some,” you paused before continuing, “jobs that the boss wanted me to complete. You just tagged along for some reason.”

“Maybe He just wanted someone to keep an eye on you.”

“He has enough faith in my abilities to know that I don’t need a babysitter,” you snapped, “otherwise he wouldn’t have given this to me. Unless you just wanted to spend time with me?”

“Says the person who agreed to dinner with me.”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Oh?”

“Why did you ask me out to dinner?”

“It was getting later and I was hungry and I assumed you were as well.”

To anyone else it would’ve been a perfectly reasonable answer. However, you had been working with Bond for long enough to know when he wasn’t telling you everything. You had to resist the urge to smile as you said,

“Pity.”

“What is?”

“Oh nothing,” you sighed and ran a thumb over the rim of your glass, “I was rather- it doesn’t matter.”

“If you felt the need to say something then it.”

“Like I said- it wasn’t important.”

“And maybe I want to know?”

“Well,” you bit your lip before saying quietly, “maybe I thought this was you asking me out on a date.”

Part of you were just messing with him but another part, a part you kept locked deep away, kind of wanted it to be true. You hated that you felt this way and didn’t want to be seen as just another notch on Bond’s bed post. To your surprise Bond became slightly serious. He broke eye contact and looked out of the window.

“I just made thing awkward haven’t I?” you said

“Would you like this to be a date?” asked Bond

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“What’s your plan after? Is this going to be a onetime thing?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Not really.”

You had never been this open with someone before, well, not in a very long time. Bond once again made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Then it won’t be.” He said

#fanfiction #james bond #reader insert #request #james bond x reader

[creativepawsworld]

Silence Chapter 2

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = Arriving at the Betting Shop on Watery Lane is overwhelmingly intimidating for Anastasia, feeling lost and out of place she attracts the attention of a certain Shelby brother.

Warnings = Gambling

Word Count = 2591

Wrapping the beige coloured coat tighter around myself to protect from the cold wind, I couldn’t believe what I was doing, I was willingly walking into a lion’s den, a street I had chosen to avoid for the last ten years of my life. As a child I used to play in this street with a friend, Anabelle Winters whether it was with our dolls or our skipping rope we were always together. One day her sister told us to play somewhere else as the children of the Shelby family, especially Thomas threatened to put gypsy curses on whoever he didn’t like or who looked at him the wrong way. We didn’t want to be cursed so we started playing outside my home in Marshwood Croft a few streets away just to be safe. As children we believed in curses, in witchcraft and the bogeyman it was all things our parents warned us about to keep us safe despite its deceptive nature and it worked.

We grew closer as we grew older but by the time, we reached the sweet age of 18 in 1912, Anabelle died of consumption. Her death hit me hard as apart from my brother she was the only friend I had, Birmingham was a big city, but Small Heath was a tiny town in comparison.

My parents were looked down on for being different because of what they did for a living. Instead of working in factories or cleaning houses. They were seen to have a cushiony life, surrounding by fabrics all day. However, this wasn't the case, we struggled just like everyone else around here but just because my father didn’t come home covered in soot, dirt and grime it just wasn’t the same.

The grasp on my coat loosed slightly when I realised, I wasn’t wearing the appropriate footwear for these streets. My main concern was not to step in any dirty, sooty puddles and soak my feet. Wearing my simple black T-bar kitten heeled shoe, the only shoes I owned as I never had to go far, mostly to the shop and back home. That was my life, I never needed another pair.

This was a onetime thing; I would go and place the bet for my brother to help him as he was desperate. I never seen him so bad. I just prayed to God he got the correct tip regarding the horse this time.

Shortly after Anabelle's death I became aware of my brothers' gambling issues. He got a few lucky bets with the horses at first, suddenly he started to feel untouchable until he lost his first bet. It was a sizeable loss, but he shook it off. It wouldn't happen again, until the next. The biggest bet he encountered was with Arthur Shelby. I truly believed in my heart that after the vicious beating he received, he would be done with gambling. That would be the end of it.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Stepping into Watery Lane I inhaled deeply, the memories of Anabelle came flooding back to me as I looked down at her door, I wondered who lived there now as after her death Anabelle’s parents and siblings moved out of the street and to Southampton for better opportunities, but I believe they simply didn’t want to be around so many memories of their daughter.

Shaking the thoughts from my head I looked towards the other side of Watery Lane. I knew the Shelby’s practically owned ever home on this side, enough for each sibling to call their own and at least another two for their betting shop. Rumours were always riff around Small Heath, so it wasn’t hard keeping tabs on the family you wanted to avoid. Taking my time, my heels clicked on the path as I walked down the lane hoping to find the right door belonging to the betting shop but not one stood out from the next.

“Great” I huffed to myself as I walked to the end of the street. Looking around me the street wasn’t quiet but it wasn’t busy either so I decided to stand for a moment watching to see if anybody would walk in or rather out of the betting shop.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only five minutes a man covered in black soot, a potential factory worker walked towards a door in the middle of the row only to reappear a few moments later, a white betting slip in his hand he was clutching it tightly to his chest, kissing it and offering it above his head before tucking it safely in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Nodding and convincing myself I could do this I began walking in the direction the man had disappeared then reappeared again, standing outside a black door. Inhaling once more I was about to step forward when another man appeared, hurrying out of the shop and down the street. In that instant I knew I was at the right place; I held the door open with my hand peering inside. It looked chaotic.

People were everywhere, smoke was everywhere I was surprised people knew where they were going, the place was completely overcrowded. There were only a few desks were people sat to take the money and bets. Further down towards the back of the room was a staircase, and on the backwall a blackboard. There a man wearing a tailored suit stood people shouting at him, and he them as he wrote the odds against the horse's names on the board with chalk. Just off centre of the room was a cage, an actual cage with a desk, I assume that is where the counting of the money happened at least several times a day considering the amount of money that appeared to be sitting on the desk and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

“Now, you look like you are in the wrong place.” A deep voice spoke from behind me while I continued to look around the shop. Freezing as the words left his mouth, I swallowed and held my head high, it was time to be brave I thought to myself. I turned on my heel ready to confront whoever was talking to me but once my eyes locked onto a pair of crystal, blue eyes my bravado faltered. My heart began beating wildly in my chest, my palms became sweaty, my mouth dry as I got lost in what was the most beautiful colour I had ever seen. “Are you lost Miss?” The man spoke again seemingly breaking me from the trance like state his eyes held over me.

“Oh my, I do apologise for being so rude.” I reply softly looking away from his eyes, only to take in his haircut, long at the top but shaved in at the sides. Travelling down to his sharp jawline, to his white collared shirt with light blue lines running down his toned chest only to disappear behind a tweed grey waist coat which was accessorised with a golden pocket watch. Taking in his appearance it became obvious, I was standing before a Shelby.

“That’s quite alright but you didn’t answer my question” He responded, my eyes going straight to his pink full lips, watching the words fall from his lips as he spoke.

“No, no I’m not lost Mr Shelby.” I answer with a small shake of my head. “In fact, I am here to place a bet on a horse.” I tell him looking over his shoulder and back towards the back of the room where the blackboard was located trying to remind the name of the horse my brother had given me.

“Is that so?” I heard him chuckle mainly to himself rather to me. It wasn’t common for women to makes bets so I suppose I could understand his humour. “And what horse would the lady be betting on today then, eh?” He asked stepping into my eyeline so I could no longer see the blackboard only those majestic blue eyes that stole my breath once again.

“Well, it's not really my bet Mr Shelby so I would have to say none” I tell him only to see his eyebrow furrow in confusion. Hadn't I just told him I was going to make a bet? Why else would I be standing in his betting shop, guinea in hand if I wasn't making a bet. “The bet is for my brother, Mr Shelby” I clarify for him, once the words settled in his mind, I heard him click his tongue before looking down at the money in my hand.

“And what horse does he want you to put this on then eh?” He asked reaching up and taking the guinea from my hand slowly, his fingers grazing my own as if they would break if he pressed too hard. Once the money was fully in his grasp, he tossed it towards a worker who I hadn’t even realised was watching the entire exchange between us. When I didn’t answer his question, he tilted his head softly to the side, a smirk threatening to spill onto his lips only he fought against it, his stoic face remaining.

“Oh, um, it was the horse Monaghan Boy” I tell the worker with a soft smile as I looked down at him. He seemed almost nervous taking the bet and I didn’t blame him; I wouldn’t like having my boss standing over me as he watched me work. never mind a Shelby. Although, Mr Shelby wasn't watching him, his fierce stare remained on me as I spoke to his employee. “Please.” I tell him hoping this situation would be over quickly. Just as he was about to write the horses name on the betting slip, Mr Shelby simply stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Put down Maid of Arms, Harry” Mr Shelby spoke continuing to look at me rather than to his employee Harry, hearing what he had to say I immediately snapped my head towards him, it was my turn to be confused.

“Excuse me Mr Shelby, but I believe I made a bet for Monaghan Boy, not Maid of Arms.” I tell him completely taken back by his complete dismissal in my choice of horse but once the words left my mouth, I couldn’t believe what I had said. I was about to apologise for the rude outburst when Mr Shelby gave me a small smile, a flicker of excitement flashed in his eyes before quickly dissipating.

“And I’m telling you to change your horse to Maid of Arms” He returned standing tall, his shoulders back, hands clasp together in front of his waist. “Is that a problem for you?” He asked, almost encouraging me to talk back to him but I was already rude to the man twice in one visit did I really want to push it to a third.

“No Mr Shelby” I swallowed back what I wanted to say, my eyes focusing on the T-Bar shape on my shoe, mentally cursing myself for not having a backbone.

“Good, it’s a stronger horse than Monaghan Boy, less odds but better chance of winning, trust me.” Mr Shelby spoke up, his voice bringing my attention back to his face the stoic expression returning to his features. Sighing I felt myself nodding as I looked towards Harry ready to take the betting slip from his hands only it was intercepted by the man in front of me. “Good luck Miss…” He trailed off holding the slip in front of me to take.

“Adler, Miss Adler” I reply reaching up, taking the slip from his hand, never once breaking eye contact until the slip was firmly in my grasp. "Good day Mr Shelby.” I tell him turning on my heel and walking out of the shop and into Watery Lane.

A strange feeling overcame me as I left the shop, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was most definitely a happy feeling, a content feeling. Whatever it was, the feeling was new to me, and it was Mr Shelby that had brought it out on me. If I didn’t know first-hand what the Shelby family were capable of, I would have believed that the rumours and stories were all smoke but no flames. For the second time today, I had to shake the thoughts from my head, entering my family home where my brother was pacing the living room anxiously, awaiting my return.

“Did you get it?” He asked once he noticed I entered the home, rushing towards me to take the slip from my hand. “Maid of Arms? Ana, I told you Monaghan Boy. Maid of Arms has zero chance of winning what have you done?” He asked panic rising in his eyes as he looked between my face and the slip in his hand.

“I tried to put a bet on Monaghan Boy, but Mr Shelby stopped the bet before it could proceed.” I tell him, hanging my coat on the coat rack in the hall. Walking towards the small two seat sofa and taking a seat waiting for the twenty question I knew would be on his tongue at the mention of a Shelby.

“Mr Shelby took the bet?” James asked rushing to my side, sitting next to me. “It wasn’t Arthur, was it? Did he know it was for me?”

“It was a Shelby brother, I recognised the suit that dad made last month but I’m not sure which brother it was. I saw two of them I think but no he didn’t take the bet. He made the bet for me with your money.”

“What did he look like?” James asked rushed, his eyes almost coming out from their sockets as I told him what had happened only moments ago. “If it was Arthur he would fuck me over just to get more money out of me, Ana tell me it wasn’t Arthur.”

“I don’t know James” I tell him getting frustrated. I knew of the Shelby brothers, but I didn’t know what each individual brother looked like. I was a recluse since Anabelle died, spending my days at home or working, maybe the odd walk around the street, that was it.

“It was probably John; he always works in the morning. Yeah, if it was John, we will be okay. He is the decent brother, the human brother… wait you said there was two of them?" My brother started talking to himself, it was clear the attack Arthur lead on my brother still affected him badly, mentally.

“I have to get to work James” I tell him calmy trying my best not to startle or worry him any further. I just hoped that if this bet came through, he would be done with gambling all together for his own mental wellbeing and mine. “He had blue eyes and a razor-sharp jawline if that helps.”

“How blue where the eyes?”

“Piercing, like really blue” I tell him a smile creeping its way back onto my face as I thought about the eyes of the Shelby brother. But my smile dropped when I saw the fear on James’ face, the next thing I knew he ran off towards the kitchen to be sick in the sink. “Oh my…” I gasped running after him to rub his back as he brought up the bread and water our mother had served for breakfast that morning.

“You made a bet with Thomas Shelby Ana”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #Cillian murphy #peaky fucking blinders #peakyblinders #fanfiction #original #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders

[shootsun]

Stuck in the Shadows with You

Part 6! (part4 on Ao3)

-----------

read on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40386417/chapters/101570457

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The temple isn’t hard to find despite its dilapidated façade, and when Macaque sees one of the demons MK had been fighting duck under the wooden boards, he relinquishes his magic and the shadow clones fade into nothingness.

This time, he won’t be taken by surprise. He doesn’t need anyone else getting hurt on his behalf.

Macaque slinks into the shadows and peeks out in the hollows of empty spaces, gauging how many were holed up in the building before chuckling to himself.

‘Only ten?’ He thinks. ‘I think I can handle that.’

It’s nothing for him to frighten seven of the demon around the temple with a little illusion and some shadows – not even magic shadows, mind you. He lures the frightened demons into darkened halls with a myriad of spooky noises and spine-tingling cold breezes, whipped up with little more than a flick of his finger.

The magic he uses is minimal, and barely burns compared to the set of shadow clones he’d summoned earlier, but the steady ache in his chest only grows with each passing minute.

When the demons are cowering and covering their eyes, he leaps, knocks them unconscious, and locks them in a room.  Easy enough.

Macaque groans as he hefts the seventh grunt over his shoulder.

“I swear, you lot have progressively getting heavier. Are y’all hiding rocks in your pockets or something?” He flings the unconscious demon into an empty room and with a tired flick of his wrist, ropes tie themselves around the demon and a calling card; a little purple smirking monkey, settles on top like a bow.

“Seven down, three more to go.” Macaque cracks his knuckles and sighs.

He walks down the creaky hall, ignoring the eerie feeling that creeps along his fur. The worn wooden doors swing in a phantom breeze, and he almost snorts as ghostly whispers echo in the distance.

“Really? You saw what I did to your other guys, right? You know I’m not going to fall for my own tricks, right?” He raises an eyebrow as a white mist begins to pool around his ankles.

“Trickster, false champion.” Is whispered in his ear in her voice and he whips around so fast that the mist wrapped around his legs dissipates before creeping forward once more.

“You’re dead. The kid, the kid defeated you.” His voice shakes, but the demon couldn’t care less as he steps backwards.

There’s nothing there but ghostly giggles and fading mist, and Macaque steels himself, growling before dropping into the shadows.

He’s been playing with tricks and shadows for too long, he reasons as he slips into the main alter room, it’s starting to get to him. She’s gone, dead as ashes in the wind. Someone’s fucking with him.

It’s the last thought that has him grinding his teeth. This whole thing with his shadow and Wukong could’ve been avoided if everyone had just left him alone. Buddha forbid he get even a moments rest in his life.  

His whole chest feels like it’s on fire at this point, and there’s a tingling numbness in his fingers that has never boded well, but Macaque ignores the warning signs and looks around.

The hall is empty except for three golden statues situated against the back wall.

“Of course, it’s the Taoists.” Macaque mutters to himself as he squints at the deities. Did one of them just blink?

Macaque swears as he bends backwards, slamming his head on the wooden floor and narrowly avoiding a bolt of lightning that emanated from the middle statue.

He scampers backwards, and half merges with the shadows, waiting to see if the statues move further or if it was just a onetime freak of nature bolt of indoor lightning.  

Peaking his good eye out, he sees the statues begin to twist and stand. Just as he thought, Goat Strength Immortal, Deer Strength Immortal, and Tiger Strength Immortal step out from their hiding spot.

“I thought impersonating your gods was blasphemous,” Macaque taunts from the shadows, slowly circling the room, trying and failing to find an exit not blocked by the three false immortals.

“When one faces Sun Wukong, they tend to lose a little faith,” TSI says calmly, his eyes roving across the shadows.

“Tell me about it,” Macaque huffs under his breath, and spins out of the shadows from behind the immortals, sending them flying like bowling pins before melting back into the shadows with a cackle.

“Impudent demon!” GSI wails, and clutches the back of his head.    

“So, you want to play, monkey?” DSI scowls, and draws his sword, lightning and thunder brimming from the blade.

“Well, that’s certainly easier than prayers and burning diagrams.” Macaque muses as a storm unleashes itself in the hall.

“Foolish Buddhist!” Yells one of the false gods, and he scowls as he ducks another bolt of lightning.

“I’m not even religious!” He shouts back, and the trio gasps in shock. He takes advantage of the pause to shuck himself into the corner and hunker down behind a table before the barrage returns, almost doubled in ferocity.

“That’s even worse!” Another howls.

“You’re not even real Taoists!” Macaque hollers out, and when the air temperature drops by five degrees, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he should have kept his big mouth shut for once.

The table is upended with one hand by TSI, and then he’s being hoisted into the air by the front of his robes by GSI before he can blink.

“You shut your mouth,” GSI shakes him, and he digs his claws into the arm holding him.

“Shutting my mouth, got it.” He snarks, and the Goat scowls at him before he’s thrown to the floor.

Breathing deeply, he tries to sink into the shadows, to portal, anything, but a flair of pain has him muffling a groan and curling into a ball on the floor.  

“Get the cuffs,” Tiger Strength Immortal says, and Macaque blanches. If they mean demon suppression cuffs, he could die. They would sap the rest of his magic in nothing flat, and then he’d dissolve into nothingness.

He weakly kicks at the floor, scooting backwards as the Deer looms over him, and he flinches as hands reach for him.

“Fuck,” Macaque hisses, and he shoves through the pain to tug at his connection with his shadow, hoping he merges in the right direction.

Everything hurts, he can’t breathe, and he collapses to his knees with a cry, not registering he’d been standing in the first place.

“Macaque!” Hands reach for him, and he flinches again as someone brushes cool hands over his brow.

“What the fuck happened? Where did you go?” Wukong, it had to be Wukong, cries out, his voice bleeding concern.

Ha, there’s a funny thought, he blearily thinks. Wukong, worried about me.

That’s the last thought he has for a while as he sinks into darkness.

When he opens his eyes next, there’s a flicker of surprise that he’s awake at all, before he registers, he’s cradled against a familiar chest on a familiar couch.

Macaque tries to yank himself off of Wukong, but the stone monkey has both arms wrapped around his waist, effectively trapping him.

“Noho.” Wukong whines and tightens his grip around Macaque.

“Sleep.” The tired god crossly orders, exhaustion coating his voice.

“Wukong, let me go.” Macaque tries to growl, but his threating tone lacks any true heat as he feels his arms tremble with strain just from trying to hold himself up.

“In the morning. We’ll-” Wukong yawns before continuing, “talk in the morning. Just…get some sleep.”

“I’ll kill you.” Macaque promises as his arms give out, and he tiredly rubs his face against the other’s chest.

“I know.” Wukong mutters.

part 5

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/shootsun/690265987998695424?source=share

@winterpower98

@animemoonprincess

part 7

#lmk #lmk monkey king #lmk sun wukong #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mac #lmk six eared macaque #lmk liu er mihou #lmk shadowpeach #lmk shadow au #shadowpeach #shadow au #my writing #this has gotten so much longer than planned #i have plot now whyyyyyy

[literaldoorbell]

Give A Little - Chapter 5 - Picnic

Chapter 5 is finally here!

Find me on AO3: Give a Little - Chapter 5 - MeDonks - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

“Four hundred and fifty gold?!”

“However, seeing as how you are the Hero of Baldur's Gate, I’m willing to offer a discount of two hundred gold, bringing the price down to two hundred and fifty,” he offered apologetically. “Just a onetime thing, you understand. Restoration scrolls have become quite difficult to procure these days.”

“Yeah, I’ve come to see that,” Edith grumbled as she fished the coin from her purse. “I’ll take one then. I’ll just have to figure out something else for later.”

Having finished up with her purchase, Edith rejoined Astarion where he was perusing the offerings at a nearby stall. The whole back of the booth held shelves filled with bolts of fabric ranging from simple muslin all the way to embroidered imported silk. A table running along the front of the stall held every kind of notion one might need.

Astarion was eying an embroidery set that contained an array of iridescent floss in every color imaginable, paired with a trio of hoops, in three different sizes, and a pair of ornate snips that looked like they had been crafted by a jeweler – its bows formed out of a silver filigree that wound intricately around the handles.

With a wishful look on his face, he tenderly traced a gloved finger along the edge of the carved wooden box the set was housed in.

“Where to next?” Edith asked as she came up beside him.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He asked distractedly without looking up from the set.

“Yes – and no. Did you know it cost four hundred and fifty gold for a restoration scroll? A lesser one at that!”

He looked up, eyebrows raised in shock. “I suppose that means we’ll be sticking to our previous schedule then.”

“Well, they were willing to offer a one time discount that brought the price down to two hundred and fifty, so I did buy one – but we’ll have to find another option if it is going to be a regular thing.”

“You’re a bard. Can't you just learn the spell yourself?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes – and again, No. It’s not as easy for me to learn new spells as it is for a wizard like Gale. It’s certainly in my wheelhouse, but Shadowheart always had that covered for us so I set my focus elsewhere when picking up new spells. I wanted to make sure we had as many resources at our disposal as possible.”

She had thought about it already. She wasn't sure she would be able to pick up any new spells now, but she might need to give it a try if a better solution didn’t come up. Now that she had gone as far as offering to let him feed more often, she would feel terrible if she couldn't follow through with it because she hadn’t thought it all the way through to begin with.

Although… Astarion did badger it out of me before I could even decide if I was going to offer it. So the blame wouldn’t all fall to me if we can't find something.

“I’m sure we’ll find something. Until then, we’ll just have to stick to our usual timing. Shall we go?” He asked cheerfully while raising the hood of his cloak to cover his face.

“You’re unusually cheerful considering this means you’d be the one going hungry,” she said skeptically.

Astarion, clearly sensing her suspicion, waved a dismissive hand saying, “Yes, that is unfortunate my dear, but do I need to remind you that I managed on far less and far worse for nearly two centuries before your wonderful self came along?” He raised his chin to peer down his nose at her saying, “A man such as myself will always favor quality over quantity if it comes down to making a choice.”

It all sounded so perfectly reasonable, but coming from him it just felt – wrong? Especially considering his recent behavior. It was unlike him to settle for less when he could have had more.

“Okay… I suppose that does make sense. Just feels strange coming from you honestly,” she remarked.

“Darling, you wound me,” he said feigning offense. “Now, do you have any other judgments you’d like to administer or can we go?” He asked as he proffered for her to take his arm with a theatrical flair.

“I suppose I’ll let your ego remain intact,” she said, stifling a smile, while lacing her arm through his.

With the hood of his cloak up, she couldn't see his expression, but she did hear an expressive ‘Puh’ from within as he began to lead the way to their next destination.

The cloak was an impressive piece of work. Gale had managed to infuse it with a modified spell of Darkness, allowing the wearer to cast darkness on everything that remained within the cloak. Each casting only lasted an hour, but with three charges per day it would allow him to at least move about as needed without too much restriction. So long as he kept the hood up and wore gloves to protect his hands.

The part that Astarion disliked, was that an impenetrable darkness obscured his face when the hood was up. He could see out of it of course but in his words ‘How will the gentry look upon me and admire my beauty?’

Edith had tried to point out that he was still drawing looks from the people they passed on the street, but he saw through her weak attempt at flattery with a scoff and she let the matter drop.

Instead, Edith turned her thoughts to the bustling marketplace as they wound their way through its crowds. The market district in the upper city, called the Wide, was where one could buy nearly anything you could ever dream of. Its large open air space was filled with stalls that one could easily get lost among all of the chaos.

The only permanent structure and landmark of the Wide was a statue at the center of the plaza called The Beloved Ranger. It depicted a cheerfully grinning Minsc cradling his hamster companion, Boo, in his arms. Edith smiled at the sight of it and offered silent tanks that it had been spared from the destruction that had marred much of the city. As it was, the statue was already a reconstruction built after it had been destroyed by a surge of wild magic nearly a decade ago.

Business was only done during the daylight hours in the Wide, so Astarion had never been able to come here despite having lived in the city for centuries. The only possibility would have been to come here on a dark and cloudy day, when the sun was not likely to make an appearance, but even that would have been a gamble of his safety.

“I’m proud of you.”

The hood of the cloak turned towards her and tilted to the side as if in puzzlement.

“You’re using the robe – I know it doesn't come without its risks,” Edith clarified.

“Oh, this hideous thing?” He said, flourishing the edge of the cloak in a pompous flutter. “The only good thing about this” he gestured at the space where his face would be if you could see it. “is that anyone who sees me will be none the wiser that it was me.”

“If you ask me, the benefits and the freedoms it grants you far outweigh the fashion statement it makes. So long as you’re careful.”

He was quiet for a few paces and without being able to see his face she couldn't gauge his reaction. Had she misspoken? Things have been strange with him lately, and maybe she should have just let it go instead of trying to make her point.

Finally, he quietly said, “I can’t be a burden to you all forever.”

Edith stopped walking, surprised at the direction this conversation was going, and turned to look at him; or where she believed his face was beneath the dark hood. “You are not a burden, Astarion.” She fixed the darkness with a firm look and waited until he gave her the slightest nod before tuning to resume their walk. “You may be difficult at times, but never a burden.” A few moments later she added, “Besides, you’ve been through a bit more than the rest of us when it comes to the complexity in how the tadpoles changed our lives. I’d say you have more than earned the right to take some time to – adjust.”

“I don't need your pity,” he snarled like a defensive cat.

Ignoring his ferocity, she spoke soothingly, “Not pity, Astarion. Understanding. We care about you, and because of that we let you get away with being a bit of an ass sometimes.”

She had meant it as a lighthearted joke, but when the hood of his cloak tilted forward and he didn’t immediately toss a quip back to her, she realized it hadn’t landed like she had intended.

“I’m just trying to say – I appreciate you joining me today. It makes me happy to see you be a bit more like yourself.”

Astarion laid a gloved hand on top of hers where it rested on his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze, not saying anything in return.

Without being able to see his face, she couldn’t read his reaction to what she had said, but when he kept his hand on top of hers as they continued to walk, she felt his thumb rub soft circles over the top of her knuckles.

Their last stop was to an apothecary’s stall where Astarion spent a surprisingly long time talking to the owner about the various uses for oils and appealing combinations for fragrances. Seeing him have such an animated conversation about something that she had no idea that he knew so much about was endearing.

While the two of them chatted, Edith kept herself busy smelling the various bottles of essences, focusing on ones that she didn't recognize the names of. Until one with a label stating ambergris caused her to sputter and gag at its strong rotten, fecal, fishy scent.

The stall owner took notice of her distress and came over to investigate. “Now that is quite a rare find there Miss. The highly sought after ambergris – produced by the digestive tract of a sperm whale. While it may not have the most appealing scent when it is first procured, such as this one, it does mellow out to a more earthy, sweet musk as it ages.”

“I believe it is primarily used as an aid in perfumes to help the scent last longer. Isn’t that right?” Astarion asked from behind her.

“Quite right, sir!” the man said turning back to Astarion, “While its scent may add an overall faint musky undertone to a perfume, it is not typically something one would want to make the focal point of any fragrance. Unless your name is Moby Dick I suppose,” he replied while chuckling at his own joke.

Looking to Astarion, she could see that he was attempting to hide an amused smile at the suffering she had inflicted upon herself. When she wrinkled her nose at him he dropped the pretense of trying to mask his mirth and he flashed her a cheeky grin that she returned in kind.

Deciding it would be best to leave the two to their chat, Edith figured that she should step away and see what the other merchants nearby might have to offer. While she still held Astarion’s attention she gestured at a nearby stall mouthing I’ll be back to which he nodded in understanding.

On the way back into the lower city, they came across a small park with a meticulously cared for shade garden. Complete with a gazebo sitting next to a small pond that was shadowed by a weeping birch tree.

Edith stopped walking and tugged on Astarions arm prompting him to turn and face her.

“You still have one more charge left in the cloak, right?” she asked.

Giving her a single nod, while tilting his head to the side in curiosity he asked, “What do you have in mind?”

Hefting the shopping basket she had hanging from the crook of her arm she nodded towards the park. “I thought we could enjoy a little more of the day before we head back?”

A brief pause and then the hood of his cloak dipped in a nod and with a simple flourish, he bowed and indicated for her to lead the way.

They settled into a shaded section of the bench that ran around the perimeter of the gazebo and Astarion lowered the hood of his cloak while Edith unpacked the basket on the bench next to her.

From within she pulled out a bottle of wine, a pair of goblets followed by a small wedge of hard aged manchego cheese and a link of a cured meat that looked to be a sort of dry chorizo wrapped in a waxed cloth.

“When did you manage to pick up all this?” Astarion asked with an eyebrow raised in bemusement .

“While you were busy chatting with the apothecary,” she replied as she unwrapped the sausage.

Once everything was set out, Edith opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses before finally turning her attention to Astarion by holding out her hand palm up. “Knife?”

With a small smile, he nimbly pulled a knife from somewhere on his person, Edith didn't see where, and placed it hiltfirst into her waiting hand. He always had a few blades stashed, ready to be retrieved with little notice. She always found it impressive how well he could conceal them, and even more so in how quickly he could brandish them.

Using the knife, she cut a few slices each from the wedge of cheese and cured meat and set them aside on the waxed cloth.

Then without notice, she drew the blade across the palm of her left hand drawing a surprised hiss from Astarion as blood began to well up and pool into her palm.

“What are you doing?!” He threw a look over his shoulder to make sure they were alone before turning back to her in disbelief.

Ignoring his question, she balled her hand into a fist and tilted it over one of the glasses of wine to let a trickle of blood fall and mingle with the red wine within.

She then handed the blade back and waited for him to put it away before offering the bloodied wine which he took while giving her a wry look. Next she pulled the yarrow infused kerchief from her pocket and pressed it to the wound on her palm.

“Full of surprises, aren't you? I assume there is a point to all of this?” he asked, gesturing with the goblet in hand.

“There is…” Edith said, clearing her throat to give herself some time to calm the nerves that had come up without her realizing. “I wanted to apologize”

He scoffed at her dismissively with a wave of his hand. “What could you possibly have to apologize for my dear?”

“For the other night… I never meant to –” She sighed to stop herself from rambling and allow herself a second to gather her thoughts. While looking down at her hands in her lap she continued. “I let things go too far. I’m sorry. It won't happen again.”

A charged silence settled between the two of them. When he didn’t respond right away, she turned to him and was met with a passive expression, not giving away so much as a shred of his thoughts, until a flicker of – something – flashed behind his eyes. Before she could wonder at it, a lopsided, toothy grin took its place.

“Don’t go making promises you can't keep, Darling. Besides, a little of your selfishness would look good on me,” he said while giving her an assessing look.

Edith slumped her shoulders while looking heavenward and heaving an exasperated sigh. “Are you capable of being serious for a moment or is this all just a game to you?”

The cheeky grin dropped from his face. “I know I’ve been – pushy with you lately… It's hard not to. You make it so – easy.”

Edith gasped in offense at the word easy. “And now you mock–” She started to say before Astraion cut her off.

“No! Edith, wait. That's not – Look, I’m sorry.” He exhaled while running a hand through his hair before continuing. “I don’t know what I’m doing – I don’t know who I am supposed to be, or what I’m supposed to be doing. I spent two hundred years playing the rake, that was my assignment; and now that I have the freedom to choose what I want or how to feel… I just don’t know how. So, I fall back to what I know – what's familiar. What’s easy for me. You should be the one on the receiving end of an apology here. Not me.”

As he spoke, it was like witnessing an old and crumbling wall tumble down, exposing an equally worn and cracked foundation. He was right. For the last two centuries he had survived by locking away every hope and need to protect himself. Now that he was free, he was faced with the difficult task of not only starting over, but resetting the very foundation that he would build that new life upon.

Just the thought was daunting.

“I – I appreciate that. Thank you, Astarion. But – you don't have to have your life all figured out. That kind of thing takes time. Hells, I don’t know what I’ll be doing a year from now either, so don’t be so hard on yourself. We’re all in this together,” she said earnestly.

“It would be easier if I could move about as freely as I had been able to with the tadpole. I loathe that I’ve had to go back to lurking in the shadows more than anything. This cloak isn't much more than an accident waiting to happen. One stiff breeze and–” He made a poof gesture with his hands, “I’m nothing but a pile of ash.”

And there it is. He’s finally talking about it. Admitting that he's allowing it to hold him back.

Edith pondered for a moment on what to say to him now that it's all out in the open. She wanted to berate him for letting this one thing drag him down into a spiral of self pity that he had been wallowing in. Tell him that he’s allowed it to twist his perception of the world and how it’s leading him to say and do hurtful things.

While true, saying such things wouldn’t help him in this moment where he is taking a step in the right direction by being open with her, and it certainly wouldn't make her feel any better either.

Instead she thought about what he needed to hear at that moment. This was about him after all. Not her or her feelings. What he really needs right now is for someone to acknowledge his grief with understanding and patience – along with a gentle nudge to see things from a brighter perspective.

“I can’t say that I know what it feels like or that it won't be like this forever – because this might just be the best you’ll get; but that doesn't mean that you have nothing to be thankful for, Astarion. You have your freedom and that is the most important thing you have won in all of this.”

“I could have had both,” he murmured.

“You don’t mean that, Astarion.” Edith pleaded. “You made the right choice. Just because it was hard, doesn’t make it bad.”

“I know. I know. I just can't help thinking what if. Would it really have been so bad?” He asked, looking at her with a pained expression.

“Was Cazador so bad?” She asked rhetorically. “We both know It would have destroyed everything good in you,” she said sternly.

Astarion fell quiet as he stared off into the garden, eyes clearly not focused on the foliage, but lost in his thoughts. Edith let him have the space to work through whatever imagining he found himself in, trusting that he would come to see she was right. He deserved to have the freedom to come to that understanding on his own.

Or not… she began to wonder as the silence stretched on, a trickle of worry creeping up her spine. Did he really wish he had gone through with the ascension? Did he resent her for encouraging him to give it up? Her heart ached at the thought.

Finally he sighed deeply and slid a guarded look over to Edith before giving her a sheepish smile and clearing his throat.

“You’re right, of course. You always are.” he said.

“Enough of that for now,” she said, changing the topic. “ I also wanted this to be a celebration of sorts. You have achieved what you once thought impossible and that is worthy of a toast.” She raised her glass to him. “To your freedom.”

He smiled wryly as he echoed her words. “To freedom.” But before their glasses could meet in cheers, he countered her toast with one of his own.“To friends.”

Unbidden, a wave of rejection swelled within her, causing the pit of her stomach to drop.

Don't be stupid Edie. You did this. You don’t get to feel rejected when he's just agreeing to be your friend.

“To friends,” Edith repeated somewhat numbly before the metallic clink of their goblets rang out into the quiet of the garden and echoing across the pond.

Thanks for reading!

#astarion #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x mc #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 #eventual smut #eventual romance

[omegathebadbach]

So I love see how clones form Star Wars the clone wars and Star Wars the bad Bach how Thay love you and so on I decided to do one so hare go and sorry if I miss splitting some things as I am autistic and if you like them I will do more.

——————————————————————

Hunter.

He is happy to see a woman like you at he asked omega to say hello to you as he was very shy because of his high senses but he soon warms up to you.

He and his team especially omega see you for who you are omega definitely love you as much as hunter and his team.

Onetime he saw you confronting omega form a nightmare and she whispered in her sleep at she love you she say I love you mum it almost made you cry feeling happy at she called you mum he had a few tears in his eyes at his darter call you mum like he was called dad.

His team see at you are both a very good looking couple at Thay had accepted you into their squad.

——————————————————————

Tech.

He was a very quiet guy when he saw you he say to himself she is a very pretty woman but she would never like a guy like me to have her.

He soon saw what you was thinking about he soon started talking to you about different things and he did not believe at you listened to him he then ask you what you like and he listened whist you talk to him.

You had met his team and They had accepted you in to there squad because They saw how tech had been more happy at you came into his life.

——————————————————————

Echo.

He remembered you from the clone wars he remembered at you was a nurse in his ex squad the 501st as you helped kix a.k.a. Medkix when he and his brother fives got hurt you had patching him up waste kix was patching fives up he was giving fives a very long lecture on why he and his twin got hurt.

When you had saw him he told you about fives you was sad at his twin brother was gone you and him were sad he say to you at he love you and you just hugged him and you told him at you did too.

When he had a nightmare about the cinldel incident or his twin fives death you stayed whit him and he told you what upset him whist you and him had a drink in the lounge/dine area where the squad found you and him asleep the next day.

——————————————————————

Wecher.

He love you instantly he thought you was a very lovely woman and he thought you was a lovely little princess.

You love how cute he was and how handsome he was and how strong he was at you called him a strong man.

You and him love whit omega mantel-mix.

The squad saw how cute you both looked like and at someday you two would get married.

——————————————————————

Crosshair.

When hunter introduced you to his squad Crosshair was very quiet towards you at you often herd some he muttered under his breath.

When he had a nightmare you stayed whit him in the lounge area where he and you had fell asleep and his squad saw how cute you both were the next day.

He told you he love you and at you love him.

He saw at you was not only a woman but a loving woman and he loved you so much.

—————————————————————

A/n: hay so see top notes and if you like this one I will do more

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb omega #tbb #the clone wars #tbb tech #arc trooper echo #tbb hunter #bad batch #omega #tcw #tbb crosshair #domino twins #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #arc trooper fives #clone force 99 #clone wars #echo #tech bad batch #woman #autism #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #tcw kix

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt4

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: Hongjoong checks up on how you're doing. San finally gets a proper feel of you without getting chomped by Wooyoung.

wc: 9.5k

ch. warnings: dom San, switch Wooyoung, sub reader, threesome, vaginal fingering / sex, light bondage, creampie, sloppy seconds, cumplay, copious amounts of drool, finger sucking, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, dirty talk, light dumbification, praise kink (‘cumdump’ is used 1x as praise), condomless sex with IUD, mention of stomach bulge, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘sweet/good girl’), use of ‘yellow’ safe word, aftercare

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

additional warning: the opening scene touches on some of reader’s struggles with amatonormativity and (internalised) arophobia. i promise this is not a super angst-heavy story, but that part calls for a little head’s up, i think

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

“Are they nice?” a slightly distorted voice asks from the video call on your phone.

You snort at the screen, raising an eyebrow at Hongjoong’s critical face. His hair is a bright blue these days, but today he has hidden most of it underneath a fashionable white beret. “Joong, since when do you care if the people I fuck are nice?”

You’ve taken the day off to quietly lounge around the apartment, giving your body some time to rest. It’s nice and relaxing, and your memories of last night are a soothing balm for the soreness of your thighs — a soreness not only caused by Wooyoung’s bites; you have a damn muscle ache from riding his face.

(You have always felt strongly that sex should be exempt from such nonsense but alas, it is a cruel world.)

San will probably be over later; he offered to check in after work, to see if you need anything. You suspect it’s also for his own peace of mind, so you did not try too hard to dissuade him.

But that won’t be for another few hours, so for now it’s just you and Hongjoong; your long-time friend who, ever since he moved away for his dream job at a fashion house, is also your long-distance friend.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about ‘nice’ with your onetime hookups, no,” he says, “but it’s been a while since you had something more involved going on.”

“It’s been two times; I’d hardly call that ‘involved’,” you point out, but you know you’re just being contrary for the sake of being contrary. It is getting a bit involved.

Hongjoong knows it too. “Right…” he drawls lazily, resting his chin on his hand, “so you don’t already have a date set for the third round?”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. So. Are they nice, or did you end up with more assholes?”

“I resent the implication that I have bad taste.”

“Not bad taste, just bad judgement. The other asshole was pretty hot.”

“Wow,” you say flatly. “That makes me feel much better, thank you, Joong. Also no, they’re not assholes.”

Last night gave you enough proof of that, if you needed any more. San and Wooyoung had patiently heard out your awkward little ramble. You don’t exactly consider yourself closeted, yet the simple truth is that ‘coming out’ stays an ongoing experience.

But San and Wooyoung took it without fuss; thankfully ‘aromanticism’ was not a new term to them, and they accepted your need for boundaries. If the guys were disappointed by the lack of a romantic prospect, or put off by the suggestion they might want one, they hid it well.

San just listened with an intent expression, brow furrowed. He thanked you for telling them, but also confirmed that yes, they absolutely are open to this becoming a regular thing.

Wooyoung had just asked a straightforward question; “We can still be friends, right?”

And when you answered with an emphatic yes, his follow-up was equally straightforward.

“Alright, so we’ll be friends who fuck. Works for me.”

You had agreed on a few points right after that, and put a pin in a few others. No sleepovers, no kissing outside of sex — yes, yes cuddles afterwards are fine, yes, hugs are always good! — and when you hesitated at Wooyoung’s offer to make you and San dinner sometime, he just told you to think it over.

(In hindsight, you feel silly about that last one. You make plenty of food for your other friends; you like sharing a meal together! It’s not like Wooyoung suggested a romantic candlelight dinner. You’ll have to get back to him on that one.)

“Hey? You still there?” Hongjoong says, waving his hand. “Is the screen frozen or is that you?”

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink to shake it off. “Sorry, yeah, that was me,” you say. “But seriously, you don’t have to worry about it. We talked the thing through, I don’t think I’ll be accused of keeping anyone on the hook this time around.”

(You’d think that “I’m not looking for something romantic” would have covered it with the other guy; but some people don’t take a hint even when it hits them over the head with a baguette.)

“So… you’ll be okay?” Hongjoong asks, the scepticism in his voice poorly hidden.

“God, what’s with all the fussing today! I’ve lived next to San for almost a year, I know he’s a nice guy. So is Wooyoung! And you know me; there’s no strings attached. No feelings to get hurt here.”

Hongjoong makes a face of distaste. “No, don’t pull that crap, alright? Don’t blow this shit off,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know you. So I know that ‘no feelings’ is bullshit. Just because you don’t do romance, doesn’t mean you don’t do any feelings at all. Your strings just happen to look a little different. Sure, you don’t want a lovey dovey boyfriend or two out of this; doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt by them.”

His annoyance lilts over into awkward self-consciousness at the end; Hongjoong knows damn well that you took it hard when he moved to the other side of the country.

(You didn’t resent him for it — how could you, when he was literally chasing his dream? — but it did leave a sting, and you do miss him. Videocalls are nice, but it’s just not the same.)

You wonder how much Hongjoong senses of the things that are hiding between the pieces of what you told him; he is right, you are already getting attached to San and Wooyoung, to their easy companionship and the growing friendship between you. It’d do you good to remember that you don’t know how long this arrangement will last.

Still, you are warmed by how Hongjoong is scolding you; a cornerstone in your friendship. It’s how he shows he cares.

“Okay, okay, you win. I won’t blow it off. But really, it will be fine, Joong,” you say, totally blowing it off. “They’re great, they’re fun, I’m having fun. We’re friends who fuck!” you go on, echoing Wooyoung’s description.

“And you claim you’re not a romantic,” Hongjoong deadpans, but he leaves it be for now. “So. The dick is good, then?”

You snort; now that’s more like the Hongjoong you know. “No idea actually,” you admit (but you’re pretty damn sure it will be.) “The tongue is incredible though.”

“What do you mean, ‘no idea’?!” he says, with a face of incredulous disbelief. “What the hell have you been doing? No, no actually don’t tell me. Keep the specifics to yourself.”

“You’re the one who asked!” you laugh, unsurprised at the way he’s backtracking. Hongjoong always bites off more than he can chew when it comes to the details of your sex life; nosy as fuck, but also appalled whenever you indulge his curiosity a little too much.

“It’s called being a supportive friend. You’re supposed to answer ‘yes, Joong, the dick is fantastic’ and move on,” Hongjoong says, pinching the bridge of his nose; like he is painstakingly explaining advanced mathematics to a toddler, already knowing the futility of his efforts. “Except you’re not getting any, I guess.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Alright, mister. ‘Yes, Joong, the dick will be fantastic’,” you parrot back. “Thank you for asking, my dear supportive friend.”

“See? That’s all you needed to do.”

Just like that, the conversation passes on to other things. Your call doesn’t end until much later, once you and Hongjoong are fully caught up with another’s lives. You’ve even started to plan a long-overdue visit in person; it’s been a while since you had the opportunity to menace Hongjoong with hugs.

You mosey around your apartment, starting up a chore or two and giving up immediately when your body complains too loudly. So you lounge on the couch for the day, and try not to think too much about how Hongjoong had scolded you about disregarding your feelings.

You’re moderately successful at this.

In general, you are perfectly satisfied with the relationships in your life. There is no feeling of ‘missing out’, no hole in your heart that you can’t fill with platonic or familial affection. No craving for ‘more’ than friendship and sex — but you are painfully aware that without a romantic commitment, you usually fall to the wayside in your friends’ list of priorities.

No matter how much you invest on your end, it’s never a given that their long-term plans will include you.

And that? To know that the people most precious to you don’t prioritise you as highly as you do them?

That part does hurt sometimes.

But all these thoughts are completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, or so you firmly remind yourself. It’s like you told Hongjoong, right? This thing with San and Wooyoung is just about having fun together. As long as you keep your expectations in check, you won’t have lied to Hongjoong about whether he needs to worry about you.

Thankfully, your concerns are a fading memory by the time San comes over to check up on you. You really don’t need help with anything, but he stays over to chat anyway.

At the start of everything, you did have some worries about disrupting your neighbourly bond with San — but if anything, you have grown more comfortable with each other. You’ve always been friendly enough, but you never crossed the threshold into actual ‘friends’. A polite, shy distance always held you back.

But now? The shyness has been thoroughly scrubbed off of you both.

So you enthusiastically tell him about your plans to meet up with Hongjoong, and he proudly tells you about his students’ progress. There is always a glow about San when he talks about ‘his’ kids, and you listen and watch fondly as he gives an energetic demonstration of the new kicking drills he’s been teaching them.

(He is adamant to teach you too; which you try to refuse at first, considering the state of your muscles. But there is no force in the world that can withstand the strength of San’s pout — so you make a brave effort. It’s absolutely worth the spike in soreness when San laughs with crescent eyes at your disastrous attempt.)

“Hey, about next weekend,” San starts, just when he is about to leave. His hand rests on the doorframe, and his cheery demeanour fades. He raises his eyebrow just slightly — a quiet intensity taking over. “You said you’ve dabbled with bondage before, right? Just curious, how do you feel about getting tied up this time around, instead of Wooyoung?”

Your chest jolts at the mention of Wooyoung tied up, plunging you back into memories of last night.

The leather handcuffs made a return for his punishment, looped around the slats of the headboard. It exposed Wooyoung’s chest for San to give him a taste of his own toothy medicine. Wooyoung had shuddered and gasped at every hard bite, whimpering while San used his skin as a canvas to paint with red marks and bruises. Tears and sweat had streamed down Wooyoung’s face as San stretched him with deft, practised fingers, milking his prostate until Wooyoung was completely dry and trembling, his torso covered with his own cum.

You also remember the dopey smile on Wooyoung’s face after he came down from the onslaught of his ‘punishment’, grinning tiredly when San undid his cuffs.

(Because no matter how San punishes him, you doubt any lessons are ever learned. Taming Wooyoung seems to be a hopeless endeavour.)

“Did I do well?” he’d asked eagerly, still a little drunk on pain and overstimulation.

“You did so good,” San had assured him, wiping his forehead to press a kiss there.

“Hm. You too,” Wooyoung had mumbled, not letting his exhaustion stop him from lavishing San with praise.

Praising San is part of his aftercare, you know now. Like a soft cushion for San to land on after a rough session. Confirmation that every degrading word spoken, every flash of pain inflicted, had been for the pleasure of his partner.

The trust between them is truly something special — and by asking you about bondage, San has indirectly asked you a second question, hidden deeper underneath; do you trust him as well? Enough to leave yourself completely in his and Wooyoung’s hands?

You know that San would back down and drop the subject without another word if you said no, and that seals the deal for you.

“Yes. Good. I feel good about that,” you say, with warm confidence.

He grins, his lips carrying that dangerous cocky edge that you’re getting real familiar with. “Great. We’ll properly talk it through later, alright? Then maybe we can have some fun with that.”

Of that, you have no doubt.

San’s lips are pursed in concentration, drawing them into an adorable little pout. He is clearly practised with the linen rope in his hands, but still takes the utmost care as he ties your wrists together. He makes a point of checking your comfort, and tests whether the knots slip and if the doubled ropes are tensioned evenly. There is a pair of safety shears on the nightstand.

You are gathered in Wooyoung’s arms, who sits against the headboard of the bed. While you watch San intently, Wooyoung is more interested in plying your neck with impatient kisses, his hands running restlessly across your bare body.

Wooyoung is dressed casual in a simple dark grey shirt, the material soft against your skin, while his trousers do nothing to hide the first hints of a growing bulge. San also opted for the casual look, wearing a tight black t-shirt and fitted jeans. The contrast with your own nakedness makes you fidgety, itching to pull at their clothes; but your incapacitated hands leave you with no choice but to wait.

“There,” San says, finally satisfied with his knots. “Now, what did I tell you?”

“Any tingling, pain, numbness; anything feels wrong, and I say the word. ‘Red’,” you obediently repeat back to him, trying not to get distracted by Wooyoung’s hands squeezing at your thighs.

“Or?” San presses.

“Or if I just want them off. If they don’t feel good anymore.”

You find that hard to imagine; the linen rope is softer than you expected, and already a fuzzy smile plays on your lips. It’s not your first time getting tied up, but the fact that you’re with San and Wooyoung breathes fresh excitement into the situation.

“Exactly. Good girl,” San praises, cupping your chin with a soft brush of his fingers. You melt into his gentle touch with a content moan, nuzzling into his palm.

The ropework is not excessively restrictive; your hands are tied in front of you, giving you some freedom of movement and putting minimal pressure on your joints — but San wanted to ‘start off easy’.

You whine a little when San pulls away, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

Just a small, simple gesture, barely a warning; yet you instinctively quiet down at the sight, already sinking into hazy surrender. Satisfied, San takes your bound arms and hooks them behind Wooyoung’s head.

“Wooyoung?” San says, who glances up from kissing your neck. “Have fun.”

Wooyoung’s grin spreads against your skin. “Oh, we will, won’t we?” he coos at you, his voice alive with anticipation. His hand trails further inward. “I’ll be so good to you, don’t you worry.”

You shudder when his fingers delve between your folds, and Wooyoung’s breath picks up as he slowly spreads the growing arousal around your clit. His teeth graze against your shoulder, red hair tickling your cheek, and you try to angle your hands to grasp at the strands. He moans eagerly when you find a grip, and his fingers pick up speed as they get soaked with your juices.

San has his hands on your knees to keep them apart, watching you with dark eyes. You burn under his gaze, your breath hitching when his eyes keep wandering from your face down to your cunt, his jaw clenching at the sight of Wooyoung toying with your clit.

“Gonna be so nice to you today,” Wooyoung groans against your neck. “Promised San that I’d behave with you tied up for us; get you all ready to take his cock. You’ll need it, Sannie is being sweet to you now but once he sinks into that tight pussy? Fuck, he’ll want to ruin you so bad, I just know it.”

He giggles when you whimper in response, dipping a finger inside your already slick entrance. San’s hold on your knees tightens.

“Yeah, you want San to ruin you, don’t you?” Wooyoung rasps, and laps up a bead of sweat on your neck with a thick swipe of his tongue. He is getting antsy, his voice tight with barely held back excitement.

“Then I’ll get you ready for him, baby. Stretch you out nice and proper so he can bury that thick cock inside you as hard and deep as he wants. Ahh, he will fuck you so well, you’ll be good to him too, won’t you? Gush all over him when you cum, just like you did on my face. I can still taste you when I close my eyes, fuck, aren’t I taking good care of you? Listen to that sound. Getting so wet…”

Wooyoung groans at the squelch of you, sliding in a second finger alongside the first. You pant at the intrusion, thighs flexing against San’s grip, your head spinning from the endless stream of filth spilling from Wooyoung’s lips.

“Don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers is enough to turn you into a mess,” Wooyoung babbles, leaving sharp nips on the places where your skin glistens with his saliva. “But you’d be dripping right now even without my fingers, wouldn’t you? Can’t wait to have this leaking pussy stuffed with cock, greedy thing that you are. So wound up at the thought of San fucking you dumb.”

“S-shit,” you stutter, clenching around Wooyoung’s fingers. San bites back a quiet groan and his eyes catch yours, full of sharp intent.

Wooyoung grins, his free hand squeezing at your breast. “Maybe I could take a turn after, hm? Fuck his cum deeper into your hole after he fills you up. Make sure you carry it around for days. You’d like that?”

A moan breaks on your tongue, your back arching into his touch. Wooyoung sighs happily, nibbling at your earlobe.

“Fuck, yeah I knew you’d like that,” he mumbles eagerly, curving his fingers inside you. You jolt when Wooyoung finds what he’s looking for; and he hones in immediately, massaging electricity into the spongy bundle of nerves. He groans as your hips cant into his touch, sparks flashing with every press of his fingertips.

“Can I, Sannie? Can I get a turn?” He almost stumbles over the words in his enthusiasm. “I’m being good, aren’t I?”

You whimper at how hungrily Wooyoung chases after praise rather than degradation, now that you are bound and left to his whims. So eager to know that he is taking proper care of you — and he is. Skilled fingers draw gaspy moans from you as he drives up the tight pressure in your abdomen, coiling rapidly.

(You had okay-ed it beforehand for Wooyoung to fuck you, of course, but your permission is not the only one he needs.)

San’s eyebrows quirk at Wooyoung’s question, teeth flashing as his lips pull into a crooked smile. He does not answer; instead he leans in closer. His presence is solid and imposing, and you bite down a swear when his hand joins Wooyoung’s between your thighs.

“In a sharing mood today, Woo?” San asks, grabbing Wooyoung’s chin in a firm hold. Down against your cunt, his index finger rubs slow circles around your swollen clit. “Let me have a feel this time?”

Wooyoung just whines, nodding his head. He is so pliant today — perhaps San’s punishment has done more to (temporarily) mellow Wooyoung out than you had given him credit for.

“Good boy,” San purrs, and pulls him into a kiss. His finger experimentally presses against Wooyoung’s two buried in your twitching hole, then slides in to find a home alongside them.

You let out a throttled moan as you clench around the added stretch, arms pulling against the rope. San makes a point of taking it slow, giving you time to adjust while Wooyoung continues to curl his fingers inside you, but he quickly picks up his pace as the slide gets easier. Your thighs are slick with arousal, their fingers drawing obscene noises from your cunt and your lips as they work in tandem to scissor you open. Your head falls against Wooyoung’s shoulder, gasping for breath and eyes starting to roll back.

Meanwhile San licks messily into Wooyoung’s mouth, jaws shifting as their tongues entangle. Wooyoung whimpers against San, rocking his hips into you; pushing his hard cock into your lower back. You try to match his rut, but Wooyoung and San’s finger-fucking makes any controlled movement on your part a near-impossibility. They never let up during all this; if anything, their fingers pick up speed, like the desperate urgency of their sloppy kiss floods over into you.

San detaches his lips from Wooyoung when he realises how close you are. He presses his free hand against your shaking knee to hold you open, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the skin as your vision starts to blur. Wooyoung nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder with a groan, his breath scorching. His free hand finds your clit, and the circles he draws are anything but soothing.

“Ahh, Woo is being good to you, isn’t he?” San murmurs, his lips ghosting across your jawline. You can only whine your agreement, trembling as you inch closer and closer to the brink. “Maybe he does deserve a turn,” San contemplates with a quiet moan, his mouth finding yours in a faded shadow of a kiss. “If you can still handle it, after I am done with you.”

San’s words spur Wooyoung on, his thumb pressing down harder.

“F-fuck,” you moan, toes curling as the world starts to tilt. “There, right there, W-Woo—”

His name ends in a strangled sob, your hips bucking into their hands as pleasure crashes down on you. Your legs try to clamp shut but San blocks one with his body, the other with his hand still on your knee. He slides his finger out of your twitching cunt while Wooyoung’s slow to a lazy crawl, easing you through your high.

San lifts his glistening finger up to get a taste, and groans lowly as he sucks indulgently at the slick. He releases it with a wet smack, licking his lips. “Hm, no wonder Wooyoung got so worked up over this pussy.”

“Told you,” Wooyoung mumbles between open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, the pads of his fingers still slowly rubbing into that sensitive patch of nerves. He giggles when you start to squirm against him, and playfully bites at your incapacitated arm. His fingers pull out, leaving you unsatisfyingly empty.

“I think you’re ready, don’t you?” he grins, and reaches to carefully manoeuvre your hands back in front of you. His fingers leave a sticky patch of your own juices smeared on your forearm. “All stretched and sopping wet for Sannie’s cock. I’ll watch this time, let you have an audience for a change.”

You moan at the excited buzz in Wooyoung’s voice, but San gives him an unimpressed look.

“You’re not an audience, you’re a heckler,” he says, a pout on his lips that he seems unaware of. He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion and throws it aside, muscles rippling.

Wooyoung laughs in surprise, his good mood inextinguishable. “Hey, don’t be like that!” he says, waving a hand at San. “It’s a special occasion today, I’m on my best behaviour!”

San just ignores him, continuing to take off his clothes. He shifts to sit back on his knees, legs spread — but instead of making quick work of his pants, San takes his time. Your breath hitches when he runs a slow hand up his inner thigh, the thick muscle wrapped snugly in his fitted jeans.

He oozes confidence, his face filled with complete focus. San bites his lip when he cups his bulge, squeezing it before moving on to undo the button and zipper. His hips tilt forward as he hooks his thumb under the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down until he can wrap a hand around his leaking cock, giving it a few strokes just for good measure.

Entranced, you watch how San’s eyes flutter shut as he rocks into his palm. Your hips move on their own accord, pushing back into Wooyoung’s clothed cock.

He groans right beside your ear, gripping your waist tightly. “Careful there, baby,” Wooyoung says, breathy. “Or my best behaviour won’t last.”

San’s eyes flash open, and he grins at the needy look on your face, how you squirm in Wooyoung’s arms at the sight of him.

“You know, I was gonna take it easy on you tonight,” he says, releasing his cock to shuck off his pants and underwear. “Spoil you, take it nice and sweet…”

Your breath hitches as he grabs onto your hips, pulling you out of Wooyoung’s arms. San pushes down on your shoulder, guiding you to lay flat on your back. Heat envelops you as his body presses against yours, immediately giving a smooth roll of his hips, cock sliding through your wet folds. Your bound hands are trapped between your chest and his, and you can feel his heartbeat, pounding harder than his self-control would lead you to believe.

“But… Wooyoungie is right, isn’t he?” San takes your hands and raises them above your head. He leans in to brush his nose against yours, his breath falling hot on your lips. “You don’t want me to take it easy.”

You shake your head with a whine, trying to arch up into a kiss. Your arms strain against San’s iron hold on your wrist; there is no give at all.

San chuckles at your hungered response. “Yeah, I should have known better,” he says, his hips grinding a little firmer against yours. “That first night, I saw the way you watched me fuck Wooyoung. Three fingers inside you and it still wasn’t enough was it? Still needed more. Even then, you couldn’t wait for that greedy cunt to get split open on my cock.”

And yet he won’t push inside you, taunting with his slow thrusts. The underside of his cock drags against your clit in delicious friction, but you need more. “S-San, please—”

“See?” he says with a grin, and sucks a rough kiss into your neck. “So fucking hungry for it. Want me to fuck you just as hard as I fucked him, hm? Until you can’t do anything but lie there and take it. Stuffed so full with my cum there’s no room for even a single thought inside that pretty head of yours. Was Wooyoung right about that, too? Want to get fucked dumb?”

There is a teasing lilt to San’s voice; he asks it like you’re a little slow already — which you are. You moan shamelessly, wrapping a leg around his waist in an attempt to guide him inside. The effort is completely in vain.

“Gonna need you to tell me, baby,” San insists, nipping at your earlobe. “Do you want me to fuck you until you’re dumb on my cock?”

(You can’t tell whether he is taunting you again, or confirming that you are still on board with rougher treatment. Either way, his question drives a spike of heat in your already throbbing cunt.)

“Hngh, yes, yes—! P-please,” you hiccup, “please, San. F-fuck me dumb. Stuff me until I can’t think, can’t think of anything but your cock filling me up, f-fuck—”

San grunts a strained curse, unable to hide how much your begging riles him up. Finally, finally, he grabs his cock, flushed dark and leaking, and guides it inside you. The stretch is manageable after his and Wooyoung’s extensive prep, but your jaw still falls slack at how he opens you up, tortuously slow.

“S-San, mmmh, n-need more, please—”

He hushes you with a soft, shallow kiss, though a tense vein bulges in his neck. “Shh, be our good girl a little longer, okay? We’ll get there, I promise. Wanna make this good for you.”

“It-it’s good, feels so good,” you whimper, uselessly straining your hands against the rope and San’s hold. “I just—”

His dick twitches inside you, and San presses his mouth against yours more solidly, teasing your lips apart to soak up every shaky moan as he bottoms out. “I got you, baby,” he pants. “Gonna give it all to you. Wooyoung?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says, his voice strained. You glance up, and realise that somehow he has taken off his shirt without you noticing. His trousers are undone just enough to stroke himself through his underwear; there is a damp spot in the crotch.

Wooyoung shifts closer at San’s call. He half sits, half lays down with his legs folded up beside him, and leans over you to plant one hand firmly into the mattress; right underneath your bound wrists, blocking your movement. Wooyoung’s dick strains against his underwear right at your eye-level, and his grin widens when that is exactly where your eyes go.

“One at the time, baby,” he teases, giving himself a firm squeeze. “At least for today.”

You suck in a breath at the suggestion, sparks ricocheting in your stomach. Fuck. You’re not even sure yet how you’ll handle San’s rather substantial girth, once he starts fucking you in earnest, yet the idea of taking them both at once has you clamping around him. San groans lowly, the sound ending in a hoarse chuckle. “Ohh, she likes that, Woo.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course she does. Now, are you going to fuck her or not?”

(Thank god, someone is asking the important questions around here.)

“San…” you moan weakly. You are primed for him to use every ounce of his strength and fuck you until you see stars; the snug fit of his cock buried in your core is intoxicating, yet maddeningly frustrating without any friction. “Please, need you…”

His endless teasing and refusal to move is driving you up the wall; you’re aching to grab onto him, to claw at his back and twist your fingers in his hair to yank him into a kiss — but Wooyoung’s arm blocks your hands from touching San, and San has your hips pinned onto the bed. There is nothing you can do but surrender to his inclinations. He’ll fuck you when he decides to fuck you.

But Wooyoung’s lips curl up with mischief, a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Ah…” he says, like some deep, secret revelation has come to him. He looks down at you, using his free hand to brush along your jawline. “Unless maybe our Sannie is worried that his cock alone won’t be enough for you anymore, now you’ve gotten a scent of more. Nothing but a double stuffing will do for our sweet, greedy girl.”

You sob in desperation, squirming against San’s hold. Already your thoughts are getting lost in a hazy fog, too addled and tongue-tied to object to Wooyoung’s taunt; so you completely miss how San’s jaw ticks at his boyfriend’s mocking jab. You only whine when San pulls out until just the tip teases at your entrance, and are entirely unprepared when he slams back in — then immediately thrusts again, hitting deep inside your gut.

The force rips a loud cry from your throat, your fingers clawing at Wooyoung’s arm as sudden pleasure floods your system. Your eyes roll back at the drag of San’s cock against your pulsing walls, a thin trail of saliva escaping the corner of your parted lips.

San grins smugly at your response, bucking into you like it costs no effort at all to fuck you to pieces. He raises an eyebrow at Wooyoung. “Worried?” he scorns, his hands digging into the soft meat of your sides to yank you up to meet his pelvis. “No, Wooyoung, not worried at all. Maybe you should be, having to follow up on me wrecking this sweet pussy.”

But Wooyoung barely seems to hear him, entranced by the sight of your sopping cunt stretching around San’s cock, squelching obscenely every time you suck in his thick length.

San quickly proves his confidence earned. You gasp for pitched breaths, moaning helplessly as the bed rattles with every sharp snap of his hips.

Because that, you soon realise, is the thing about getting fucked by Choi San; you can happily report to Hongjoong that the dick is fantastic — but it’s the hips that are life-ruining.

And San is unrelenting as he drives into you over and over again; balls slapping against your ass, his own breath becoming ragged. You try to move with him, but the attempt is futile as San jostles you around, his grip on your sides like iron. He is in complete control. Sweat drips down his temple, across his jaw to his chin, until it falls into the valley between your breasts to blend with the beads of your own sweat gathered there.

“How are you doing, baby?” he asks, almost condescending in the certainty of his answer.

But you can only answer in a pathetic mewl, writhing underneath him as he fucks a white heat of pleasure into your core.

San chuckles darkly. “What’s this? I barely got started and you’re already dumb on my cock? Fuck, but you are taking me so well. So fucking wet for me… You wanted my cock so bad? Now take it.”

His thumb slides inward, pressing against the weeping mess that is your pussy. Sweat and slick soaks into the sheets but San pays it no mind, only caring about drawing more depraved sounds from your slack mouth. He does it so easily, the combination of his thumb on your clit and those brutal slams of his hips overwhelming your inhibitions. The building pressure in your cunt sharpens, honing in on the apex of release.

Another especially hard thrust causes a fresh spill of drool past your lips, and Wooyoung catches it on his fingers. He grins as he examines the glistening shine, and for a moment you think Wooyoung is going to suck his fingers into his mouth — but instead he offers them to San, who hungrily accepts.

Without letting up on his fanatical pace, San’s eyes flutter shut as he moans around Wooyoung’s fingers. He bits his lip when Wooyoung slides out again, and then cups San’s cheek to spread saliva across his face. “Brat,” San pants with heavy-lidded eyes, though he does not look in the least upset.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says with a grin, and leans in to peck San on his glossy cheek. “Now make her cum so I can watch, alright?”

“Woo…” San sighs an exasperated warning at Wooyoung’s brazen order, his rhythm slowing — and the loss of force threatens to take you away from the edge you were rushing towards, your orgasm receding out of reach.

“N-no, San—” you whimper desperately. “So close, s-so fucking close, please, wanna cum, let me cum, please—”

Wooyoung’s expression goes wicked at your pleading, delighted to have caught San between the choice of punishing him or pleasing you… or so he thinks.

Instead of showing any conflicted feelings, San just rolls his eyes and tsks, then leans down to smother your mouth in an aggressive kiss. This way, his hand is trapped between your stomach and his; but he can still press against your clit, the nub shifting underneath his thumb as he picks up his pace again, pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

And in this position? Wooyoung’s view of your face and cunt are almost completely blocked off.

“Sa-aan,” Wooyoung complaints, trying to pull San back up — but it’s like San doesn’t even notice Wooyoung, his tongue hungry as he sloppily kisses you. His spit freely spills into your mouth, dribbling past your lips when you gurgle out a wet moan.

Their petty behaviour over you just works you up further, and the orgasm that was almost denied you comes surging back all at once, violent and overwhelming as it rips through you.

San swallows up your loud cry like he does not want Wooyoung to even hear it, pressing a firm hand down on your hips to keep you in place when you convulse and clamp around him. He stops his brutal pounding, instead circling his pelvis as he stays deep inside you through your release. Wooyoung is still blocking your arms from moving, but your legs lock around San’s waist and he groans as you clench with every ripple of electricity.

His breath comes in harsh inhales, and San releases your mouth with a whine to bite at your shoulder, all his muscles tensing to gather every ounce of willpower not to cum right with you.

Your moans grow weaker as the strength slips away from your body, the aftermath of your intense orgasm leaving you boneless and exhausted. Wooyoung stares down at you, and an agitated excitement burns behind his blown eyes.

San relaxes when your body sags underneath him, sweetly lapping at the bite he left on your shoulder. “Such a good girl,” he purrs, dragging his nose up your neck to press a kiss on your jaw. “Doing so well for me. Are you alright to keep going, hm? Want to make Wooyoung wait a little longer with me? Give me a colour.” San’s voice changes a little at those last words; not lavishing you with praise or teasing Wooyoung anymore, but giving you an honest command.

(You hear Wooyoung make a noise at San’s comment, but he quiets at the call for colour.)

You take a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself. “Green,” you answer, meeting San’s intense gaze. “W-want you to cum inside me. I’m okay, j-just… let me hold you?”

San’s eyes go soft, and he motions for Wooyoung to let you move your arms.

Despite his earlier mood, Wooyoung obediently pulls his hand away. (Because you asked for it, not San, or so you suspect. He does give your wrist a light squeeze first, like he is loath to let go.)

San takes a moment to check the ropes, and helps you sling your bound arms around his neck when he’s satisfied with what he sees. Your fingers grasp at the sweaty dark hair at the nape, and immediately you feel more secure, more anchored, sighing when San leans in for a light kiss.

“There you go,” San murmurs against your lips, giving an experimental slow roll of his hips. “Is that better?”

You whimper at the slide of his cock against your fluttering walls — but frantically nod your head, worried San might take your noise as a negative. “Y-yes, so good. Feels so good.”

He lets out a strained chuckle at your enthusiasm, biting his lip as the speed of his thrusts pick up again. His previously deep and smooth rolls soon degrade to nothing but a frantic rut, focused on his own release. To fill you up exactly like you’d asked.

And although you are too wired to get yourself back to that edge this time around, San’s increasingly desperate and pitchy moans get you high nonetheless. His rhythm crumbles down further every time he buries himself in your cunt, his head dropping down against your shoulder, rough grunts falling on your heated skin.

“Got one more for me?” he asks, whines, and reaches for your clit again.

It is tempting, so fucking tempting to let San push you in and through the needling high of overstimulation, but you hiss as he makes contact and shake your head. “No, n-no. Yellow, yellow,” you slur out, the colour system still fresh in your mind from San’s earlier check. “C-can’t, hmnh—”

As much as you usually revel in the thrill of seeking out the furthest edges of your limits; there is no way in hell that you’ll have the stamina to keep going with Wooyoung if San makes you cum again right now.

San immediately pulls his hand back, switching gears as he simply grabs onto your waist again. “Happy just to be used by me, hm?” San hums against your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Asking for nothing except to get stuffed full. How lucky am I to have such a sweet, pretty cumdump.”

(Your stomach jolts with surprised pleasure; San has been encouraging you to share whatever preferences and fantasies you feel comfortable sharing, but you did not expect him to dip into this side of your praise kink tonight, with all his initial talk of slow and sweet. But obviously he is becoming more comfortable to improvise with you, and pull from his growing knowledge of your pleasure points.

Already you’ve come a long way from the San who refused to let Wooyoung eat you out — and you are still getting to know one another. That in itself is a feverishly exciting thought.)

“Yes, yes Sannie, please,” you babble, his affectionate degradation flaring hotly inside you. “Give it to me, please, fill me up— I want it, want it, want it—”

“Fuck, fuck, hang on, baby, fuck,” San says, cracks fracturing his voice and composure when you squeeze encouragingly around him. It only takes a few more rough, frantic bucks of his hips before he cums with a broken moan, painting your fluttering walls with ropes of hot, sticky seed.

You groan in satisfaction as San stills inside you, your bound fingers running through his hair best you can. He rocks into you a little longer with small, whiny noises, milking himself with your plush cunt until his arms tremble and his breath comes in tight moans.

“That’s it,” you murmur to him, “being so good to me, giving me everything.” You play with the sweaty strands of hair as he slowly recovers; which gives you a moment to recover as well. Your walls still twitch around San, overly sensitive, but the sharpest edge is wearing down.

Wooyoung’s hand joins yours in San’s hair, but there is a quiver to his fingers as he gently strokes his boyfriend’s head.

You glance up to Wooyoung, and see he has pushed down his trousers and underwear enough to expose his veiny, rock-hard dick. There is an angry flush to the leaking tip, and Wooyoung’s entire body looks like it’s pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Wooyoung…”

He swallows thickly at the call of his name, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He squeezes your hand, sensing the concern in your voice.

“I’m good,” Wooyoung strains. “H-hurts, but it’s good. I’m fucking good, baby. I-is it my turn now?” he ends on a whine.

San pulls out with a grunt, and you moan at the sudden emptiness as he slides off of you, onto the bed on the opposite side of Wooyoung. He is still catching his breath, sweat beading in his hairline. You give San a questioning look, but he just grins back. “Your call,” he says. “Is it his turn?”

Wooyoung restlessly pats at your hair, desperation shining in his eyes from unshed tears. But his expression is feverish, borderline feral; all that holds him back from pouncing you is a razor-thin wire of restraint tied to your consent.

You give it to him.

“Yeah, your turn,” you say, breathy, and bring your bound hands down to your cunt, smearing your fingers through the mixture of arousal and the slow dribble of San’s leaking seed. “You promised me, right? Was gonna make me feel San’s cum for days. Wanna feel you too…”

Wooyoung chokes back a whimper, his hips stuttering; and for a moment you think he is going to cum without his cock ever touching your waiting cunt.

But he manages to regain himself and, with ragged breaths, he kicks off his pants and underwear. Once his clothes are discarded, Wooyoung scrambles to lay down next to you. His touch is roughened by impatience, and you squeak in surprise when Wooyoung turns you onto your side, facing San, and hooks your leg back around him.

Before you get a chance to worry about more of San’s cum spilling out, Wooyoung’s cock pushes into your wet hole. He whines as he plugs you up, holding you close against him and teething at your neck. “Fuck, but this pussy is so fucking sweet,” he groans, shaky as he grinds against your ass. “Feels just as good as it tastes. Wanna make such a mess of you.”

“D-do it,” you challenge him, turning your head in an attempt to find his lips. “Mess me up, fuck, Wooyoungie…”

Wooyoung’s cock might not be as thick as San’s, but his length hits deliciously inside you, a toe-curling slide that is just what your raw and tender cunt needs right now. “Gonna fuck Sannie’s cum so deep you can taste him, promise,” Wooyoung babbles, sucking hungrily at your skin. “Aren’t I so much nicer than him? I am letting him watch.”

San scoffs. “Like that’s not for your own benefit,” he says, though his eyes are hard while he does watch how his own seed slowly leaks from your pussy between thrusts, dislodged by Wooyoung’s sloppy thrusts. “We all know how much putting on a show gets you off.”

Wooyoung ignores him, too caught up in the thrill of finally having some relief for his painfully neglected cock.

“Look at San,” he tells you, his mouth wet against your ear. “Look how fucked out he is from pumping your cunt full. Wanted to stay buried in this warm pussy for as long as he could, didn’t he?”

You moan when San’s gaze snaps up to meet your eyes; ‘fucked out’ barely covers it. He looks as ruined as you feel, lips plump from the force of his kisses and every inch of skin glistening with sweat, his broad chest rising with every breathless pull for air, punctuated by soft moans. His eyes are slightly unfocused but still he watches with quiet intensity, like he already can’t wait to bury himself into you all over again.

San takes your bound hands and lifts them up to his puffy lips. You expect a kiss — but teeth nip your skin instead, San’s hazy eyes dangerous as he bites at your knuckles, one by one.

You squirm at the gentle stings of pain, and Wooyoung lets out another drawn-out whine as you clench tighter around him. His hand shakily inches downward, but he grunts and yanks it back when he remembers your earlier limit. Desperately, you shake your head, arching into his touch.

“No, n-no, I—” you moan, wiggling your ass into him. Heat is coiling in your abdomen again, dizzying your tongue into slurred speech. “I, hngh, I can go again, please, please, mmmhh fuck, want you to touch me, Wooyoung, ahh—”

And Wooyoung — fucking menace that he is — even when balancing on the very brink himself; Wooyoung can’t resist being a little shit about it. “Touch you where, baby?” he pants, like he isn’t about to bust his load in your aching cunt. “Tell me where you need my fingers, then I’ll give it to you. Tell me exactly.”

With San holding onto your wrists, you can hardly force Wooyoung’s hands where you want them, so you have no choice but to give voice to your feverish desperation aloud. “P-pussy. Need you to touch my pussy.”

“That it? Nothing more… specific?” he asks with a salacious grin, running a single finger through your messy folds, cruelly bypassing the swollen nub that is begging for attention.

“Clit,” you sob, twisting against him. “Put your fingers on my clit and make me cu-uuhmm—!”

Wooyoung sighs in bliss, obediently rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger. They’re soon coated in an obscene slick, a mixture of San’s seed and your own smeared arousal. Your choked up whimpers can’t quite cover the wet noises of Wooyoung’s efforts, his fingers and cock making an even bigger mess of you. San watches silently how fluids drip from your thighs onto his already soaked sheets, something primal cutting through the exhaustion in his eyes.

Predictably, Wooyoung does not last long; especially now that you are clamping around his dick, your cunt instinctively trying to keep him embedded deep inside you. He burrows his face into your shoulder, biting down on the exact same spot that San had earlier.

You hiss at how it smarts, but the sound morphs into a pleased moan when Wooyoung cums hard. His hips jerk as he empties with generous spurts of hot whiteness, leaving you feeling so floaty and full, satisfied and swollen — you wonder if you’d feel the protrusion of Wooyoung’s cock and their combined seed, if your hands were free to press against your stomach.

But Wooyoung quickly pulls out with a pained whine, too sensitive to even simply stay inside you. Immediately his cum starts to drip out; except San is right there to gather his and Wooyoung’s seed on two fingers. He shoves them back inside you without delay, keeping you beautifully stuffed while Wooyoung frantically works your clit.

Wooyoung covers your cheek, jaw and ear with hard kisses, and whispers filthy encouragements as you begin to shake and tremble uncontrollably. San curls his fingers inside you, Wooyoung pinches sharply at your clit — and he grins against your cheek when you shatter apart with a wretched sob.

“That’s it,” he coos smugly as sparks sear through you like a shockwave. “Took it all so well, milking us for all we got. Been keeping San’s cum so nice and warm for us, making room for me too. Want a taste of what we stuffed you full with?”

You’re still trembling in Wooyoung’s hold, whimpering through the persistent spikes of pleasure while he continues to rub stubborn circles on your clit. The surges slowly grow weaker but they linger, and you are unable to do anything but make a sniffling noise that you hope gets your needs across.

San seems to pick up on it, sliding his fingers out your weeping hole. But before he lets you have that taste, his fingers smear across your lips, leaving a glossy stain. Wooyoung groans at the sight and can’t resist, sucking at your bottom lip to steal the mixture of fluids away from you. You whine in protest, though you do miss his mouth when he pulls away with a playful bite.

You can’t miss him for long; San nudges his fingers past your lips, presses them down on your tongue, and your eyes roll back as you finally taste Wooyoung, San and yourself. Hungrily you suckle at his fingers, letting out a small whimper when Wooyoung dips into your cunt and takes another swipe for himself.

San’s breath shallows as your tongue swirls around him, a light flush creeping up his cheeks. You wonder if he’s thinking about how your mouth would feel on his cock. You certainly are.

…That is for another time though, when you are not exhausted to the bone, fighting the urge to curl up and fall asleep on the spot. (Right now, it’s very hard to remember why you insisted on a ‘no sleepovers’ rule.)

San slips his fingers out when you and Wooyoung both quiet down, and turns his attention to your wrists. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says gently, tapping the rope.

San and Wooyoung help you to sit upright against the headboard, and this time Wooyoung is the one to get you some water while San begins to expertly loosen the knots.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing up at you. His gaze is still intense, though now also soft.

“No numbness, tingling feeling or pain,” you say in a tired sigh, reciting back the points he told you to be aware of. “Well… no pain there,” you chuckle. “Think I’ll be sore in some places tomorrow. But I don’t mind that. Not at all.”

“Hm, good,” San hums, and directs his focus back to your restraints. Silence falls between you, not even broken when Wooyoung returns by your side and carefully raises the glass of water to your lips, assisting you with taking slow sips. The ropes come undone — but San does not let you go just yet, taking his time to gently massage your wrists for circulation.

You look down on San’s thumbs rubbing into your skin, your thoughts winding back over the course of the evening. Suddenly you feel oddly vulnerable; even with San’s careful touch, and Wooyoung sidling up next to you after he set the glass away, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wooyoung grins and pinches at San’s cheek, praising him for taking such good care of you. San’s lips spread into that sweet shy smile, his eyes shining warmly when he quickly glances to you and Wooyoung. It’s safe and comfortable around them, a happy fuzz coating your memories; yet you can’t help a pinch of self-consciousness as you think back on one particular moment of the evening.

“Did I do okay?” you ask, feeling silly even as the question slips past your lips.

San’s eyes widen slightly, his hands stilling, while Wooyoung’s arm tightens around you and he immediately turns his praises on you. Of course you did well, he assures you. What a fucking champ, taking it all like that. Their good girl. How lucky they are with you.

You bite your lip in a small smile as Wooyoung’s words hum sweetly through your veins, but San frowns in concern.

“Did something happen?” he asks, still gentle but a firmness layered underneath. “Something worrying you?”

“Well—” you say, already feeling awkward. “I said ‘yellow’…”

“As you should have,” San says, even firmer this time. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”

“A little,” you admit; the people-pleaser inside you is a bit ruffled by bluntly asserting a boundary. “I know I shouldn’t, but— but I kinda feel like I should apologise.”

San shakes his head and squeezes your hands tightly. “Don’t you dare. If anything, I should say thank you. For helping me to keep you safe and feeling good. That makes it feel good for me too.” He breaks out another smile, his dimples joining in. “I felt good today. I hope you did too.”

“He really means all that, you know,” Wooyoung chimes in. “About thanking you. Never met anyone who cares more about this stuff than San here.” He leans in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush. “I swear, he almost nutted on the spot the first time I yellow-ed him.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” San says, rolling his eyes with a flustered flush burning across his face, and you relax with a giggle at their familiar bickering and warm reassurances. “I mean,” San mumbles sheepishly, “ideally you’d never have to use a safe word at all; but as convenient as it’d be in a situation like this, I can’t exactly read your mind—”

“Hey, hey,” Wooyoung cuts off San’s ramble with a laugh. “C’mon, you know I’m just teasing!” He grabs San’s chin to smack an exaggeratedly wet kiss on his cheek. “You’re the fucking best. Who needs a mind reader when we’re doing this together. You got our back, we got yours.”

San sighs in resignation, trapped by Wooyoung’s firm grip on his chin as Wooyoung makes a show of lavishing his face with loud, dramatic kisses — but you don’t miss the way his shoulders release tension, and his hands relax around yours.

You feel a bloom of warmth at the obvious fondness on display in front of you, and your guilt fades.

Finally Wooyoung lets San go free and cuddles up a little closer against you, while San presses up on the other side. Sandwiched between them, you blissfully surrender yourself to their attentive aftercare. And once you feel solid enough to move again, they both insist on escorting you the whole thirty paces from San’s bedroom to yours.

The gesture is excessive and unnecessary to the point of being silly. You burst with friendly affection for them.

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