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wonderland-productions-blog · 9 months

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Knight in Dulled Armor Ch. 6

Chapter 6: Acrobatic Academic

My eyes drift upwards, taking in the view of the city still. Not all of Braiewood was in disarray, many of the buildings and streets were cleaner as I explored more open areas. The architecture wasn’t exactly typical of what I was familiar with. Brick and wood serve as most of the building materials here, unlike much of the metal and raw stone used in Asteria. The most prevalent difference was the sheer height of the buildings here. Many aspects played with the height of the buildings, like lofts, patios, and raised foundations.

I decide to head back into the aerial arts center, following back down the road I came from. This time I enter through the large double doors, and take a seat near the front of the crowd. People seemed to be biding time at the moment with no one on any stages, several seats now vacant, and those still sitting were chatting or immersed in other activities. While seated I catch a whiff of food cooking somewhere. I scan the area, a peck of hunger setting in. I notice a small counter and bar area with a man cooking behind it in the far corner of the room.

The aerial performance seemed to be at an intermission for the time being, so I make my way to a stool at the counter. Only one other sat spaced between stools with me. I try to get the man cooking's attention, sticking my hand up and slightly forward. We make eye contact, but he doesn't bother to speak to me. I wait a few moments for him to finish what is cooking on the grill on the other side of the countertop. When he serves a plate to a man waiting and still doesn't bother to take my order I open my mouth to ask him when he is available to do so.

My mouth is filled with something, my hand jumps up to cover my mouth. Juicy, soft, and savory my stomach churns upon the realization that it was meat. "Excuse me, I don't really eat meat." he glances up from his work for a moment, a brow raised. "Not many do, that is a mushroom and vegetable blend, it only resembles meat. We're not orcs, don't be absurd." I push aside the seemingly heated comment, "Sorry, I wasn't aware. Can I get a men-" I am once again cut off by him flinging a bit of the warm mushroom meat into my mouth via spatula.

I chew and swallow, growing impatient with his unprofessional attitude despite the great quality of the food. He sees my mouth descend into a scowl, "You're hungry, right? What's wrong?" he says through a smirk. "I'm joking of course, the menu is behind me," he says, moving over to reveal a large menu board. Upon inspection, I decide on fried rice with local veggies. He quickly prepares it, asking if I wanted it in a box rather than a plate. I panic and say nod without absorbing the information at first. He preps it into a small box with a wooden utensil, then passes it to me by a handle on its folded top.

Light in the room shifted, blobs of color now dragging their way across the walls. My mind is brought back to wondering how the light morphs color and moves in such a way. The only possibility that remains after my eyes follow along the walls and floor extensively is that it was some kind of magic. Slow music kicks up, indicating the show may start soon.

I make my way back to my seat in the crowd. A woman walks out onto the stage from a set of curtains behind her. A short airy skirt made from a vibrant lace hangs just above her mid-thigh. Peaking through this translucent skirt I was a glimpse of white lacy undergarments. A small sleeveless top of a similar style clung to her chest. The largest piece of fabric on her was a long scarf draped over her shoulders.

She settled herself on stage, gripping one of the bars and gracefully pulling herself up onto it. She then hooks one leg onto a curved section of a bar, bending her body and allowing herself to hang from it. She morphs her body into different shapes with a series of twists and movements, creating a graceful and even sensual environment. She continues the aerial sport reminiscent of refined dance, using her scarf as a prop to hold herself in a brilliant display of strength.

The music fades out for a moment, a silence nestles its way deep into the room. I look around the room, trying to gauge if the performance was over. My eyes snap back to the stage as the performer, now sitting on a high horizontal section of a bar, juts her hands out, falling back only catching herself with her fastened scarf at the last moment. The music now swells at a faster pace to match their routine. I notice a set of clicks and clanking above me in the pause, noticing a tall tile ceiling.

Drawing my attention back, the woman covers her chest for a moment. She flings her hands back, revealing a new color of fabric on her top. She makes the same motion over her hips, changing the color of her skirt. She makes a quick jump onto a curved section of a bar rather than the previous slow precise movement. The bar begins to turn, and she begins a set of more exciting hangs and twirls.

Before I know it the show is done, the woman drops to her knees at the end of the stage, blowing a kiss to the crowd before disappearing back behind the curtain. A series of applause erupts from the crowd and a few disperse. My finds find each other through the burst of sound, adding another set of claps to the applause. I should leave too, maybe find a less crowded place to eat my meal.

I wait until all that choose to leave are gone so that I won't have to press through cramped doors and crowded streets outside. I step toward the door, feeling a tug against my shoulder.

"You aren't going out that way, are you?" A smooth feminine voice uttered. I turn to see a woman only a bit taller than myself at the bar counter where I'd gotten my food. "Oh, my bad, sweetie. I thought you were a performer." She says.

She was of a darker tone than I was, her complexion resembled Hidorah's but I'd say held more of a reddish tint to it. I recognized her as the dancer on stage from earlier when I'd been chasing him. She no longer wore her sheer lace set but now a cropped shirt with a square neckline and a section of straight lace beneath it. Her long sleeves were the same sheer lace. She also wore a short white skirt sitting above the knee hanging loose on her hips. A set of colorful densely beaded cords clung to her waist above her naval.

She must have noticed my staring, as she jutted a hip out and placed a hand upon it. She cocked her head, her dark frizzy hair bouncing up against her shoulder instead of scrunching against it as mine would. I shake my head finally, entirely too late for normal interaction.

"Oh, I caught a bit of your performance earlier, you're very impressive!" I blab with a nervous smile. She smiles back, arguably much brighter than my own. The man running the counter slides her a drink, and she glances at me. "Wanna buy me a drink?" She says this while going for a pouch hanging at her side onto the beaded bands on her waist. Before she can fish out anything, I've already gotten my coin ready. I slide it to the man and nod. With a chuckle, she signals me to follow her with a free hand and a drink in the other. I am led into a different room behind the curtains and led out to a different side of the building.

She walks down an unfamiliar part of town and I have little choice but to follow. There weren't as many people to push through, in fact, there were hardly any people at all. She finally looks back at me, "You know, you didn't have to do that."

"It isn't an inconvenience by any means, I enjoyed what I saw of your performance. I figured I should let you know." I say to her. We eventually stop at the end of a wide alley and sit on an old bench. Her skirt rides up her round thighs as she crosses her legs when we sat down. Without any tarps over the alley, it was just as bright out as the main street. The sun provided a great contrast on her skin, adding a shine to her skin in the light. I now envied her bare legs as I wore my continuously heating full-length pants. I wipe the sweat from my brow as subtly as possible. She must have noticed this and offered me a drink. I take the bottle, cool condensation wetting my hand.

It was an underlining sour fruit flavor that had been neutralized with a sweetener of some kind. It was overall refreshing and enough to put me in a better mood and ease my nerves. "Come on," she says, gesturing me up as she stands.

The end of the alley holds a short set of stairs leading to a large door. I reluctantly follow her, unsure of where exactly we were heading. She pushes open the door, leading us inside.

I immediately recognize the space as a library. Though this area was more space efficient and guest friendly with lofts to access higher literature on walls, there were still books lined edge to edge of the vast room. "A library?" I ask, obviously hoping for more reasoning than confirmation.

"Yeah, I work here. I figured you could at least walk me here, safer that way." She lets out. We continue inside, taking a few steps into a conversation pit embedded into the sandstone floor.

A lump forms in my throat, "Why is there such a heavy need for safety?" I pry, bracing a hand on the counter now between us. I watched her fetching a stack of folded clothes from beneath the counter. A fitting dark vest, including a silver pin on one side of her chest as well as a dark, fairly sheer knee-length skirt.

Such a climate seemed to allow for much less formal dress, I concluded. I didn’t mind, and people didn’t acknowledge it as much as I thought they would. For a moment I had to be reminded of the heat, a rare occurrence so far. The library was fairly cool inside, strangely enough.

"I couldn't tell you're new here at first, for the record. Your clothes seem normal, so I'll give you points for your adaptation skills, but I was suspicious when you thanked me for my performance. Then my hunch was solidified as soon as you paid for my drink. You're very formal." She tells me.

"That doesn't answer my question," I let out.

"Well, I get why you wouldn't know, is what I'm saying. Braiewood isn't the same as it was years ago. We've had a bit of an economic crumble for a collection of reasons. With that being said, it didn't exactly help the city's crime rates"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware."

"It's alright, you got lucky, I'm one of the few people who won't look at you like you're a barbarian for not knowing. Can't expect tourists to know when tourists haven't been around since all the changes." she shrugs.

I wait for her to continue, but she shakes her head as she steps behind a rounded counter. "We're in a library, you want information look around. I'm not an economist."

"Fair enough, care to point me to an elven history book? Preferably about the apparent deterioration of Braiewood. Shockingly the fluctuation of the elven economy isn't a huge seller in Asterian bookstores." I laugh out to her, putting my elbow on the table and shifting my weight onto it. I am genuinely curious about this, and I wonder if I’ll be able to discuss this issue at home once this all blows over.

In a sad discovery, I was met with a look of confusion over a chuckle. She runs her hand to my cheek, brushing my neck with her soft fingertips. I stare at her face now much closer to mine. I straighten my posture, but this led to her leaning further over the counter. Her mouth was left slightly agape and her full lips pursed into a pout as her brows furrowed. She pushed my hair behind my ears and her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened for a moment, her head seems to shake away a thought.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Um, I'll lead you to the history section. Just a moment." She takes me to a certain shelf and hands me a book with a faded yellow spine. This unexpected tension tightens my demeanor and I do my best to get things back on track.

"Do I need to pay or sign the book out?" I say as we walk back to her counter.

"Well, I'll consider waiving your fee for borrowing a book without having any identification since you bought me a drink. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you don't have a Braiewood sign of residence?"

"You caught me, alright. I told you I'm not from around here."

"Well, as long as I can get your name in case you want something from here again. You've got a name, right?" She says, hunching over a gridded paper.

"Elaine," I say.

She glances up from her sheet, expecting more.

"Thauma." I continue.

She scoffs, shaking her head as she jots it down. "Are your parents fans of traditional names too? Or just have a really bad alias?"

I shoot her a confused look.

"My name is Arani," she clarifies.

My confusion is momentarily dismissed as I remember that this is in homage to Azulah Arani, one of the more known and respected past Elven representatives. She's clearly under the impression that I am someone named after myself. A name popularized because of its presence in nobility, leaving me with a legacy to live up to before I have the chance to claim my name as my own.

"Nonetheless, Elaine, I'll lend you the book free of charge. Just make sure you set aside some time to return it. Maybe even consider grabbing another book, you'd get into the readers' hall of fame pretty quick." She laughs.

"Not many interested in the cultural classics anymore?" I ask.

"Nah, change in curriculum beats the information into kids without leaving any room for a want to research on their own. That's how my younger sister puts it."

"I see, I guess leadership doubled down on the education to attempt to prevent future mishaps?" I consider.

"You're not too far off, you sure you need that textbook after all?" Arani says.

"You'll have to pry this book from my cold, dead, educated hands." I laugh, packing it into my bag.

I find myself leaning back onto the countertop and chatting with Arani more about education, finding out she just got out of short secondary education. We were around the same age, her being only a little older than myself. She asks me about Asterian schooling and we compare our education systems. "Clearly you were taught well enough you wanted to seek more education," I say, gesturing toward the library shelves behind me.

"Maybe I wasn't taught enough at all and needed to take matters into my own hands," she jokes.

"Seems like you're the only one who feels that way," I tell her, staring at all the empty seats scattered around the room.

"Yeah, but what can you do? It's hard to convince people to learn when they think they know everything. Plus, if people actually wanted books I'd have to work more," Arani says, "I'm pretty content with getting paid to perform and then read books and dust all day."

"Oh yeah, you work two jobs with performing and the library. Is that normal?" I ask.

"Pretty normal yeah, most people don't care as long as they enjoy what they do. That's why you still see a few people selling original works in the market when they're aren't exactly a ton of tourists," she explains.

I nod and would have continued chatting if it weren't for a wave of light entering the room. A creak at the doors reveals the first visitors in the library since I'd entered. This cues my leave, and I attempt to wrap up my and Arani's conversation before they come to the counter.

"This was nice, it's not often that I get to talk to other people my age around here. Not many are as diverse, you could say, in their interests." She smiles.

"Of course, thank you for the information and kind introduction to the library. I'll get back to you once I've finished this."

She waves me goodbye and I head back into the city, now close to nightfall. If I wanted to blend in I'd have to keep my head down. Apparently, I stick out quite a bit when I gawk at everything in town and attempt to make small talk. Now that I thought about it, no one in the crowd even attempted to talk to me, and hardly talked to one another. The public was much more reserved than it was in Asteria.

I trace my path back to the way I'd entered the city. It was nearing time to leave if I wanted to get back to the tavern barely before sunset. I begin to pick at the food that I'd now been saving for a couple of hours through no choice of my own. This makes my walk more entertaining, but most certainly a bit slower. I finish my food and place the now empty box in my bag to throw away once I arrive at the settlement.

Since my walk time estimate was delayed from my meal it grew dark before I arrived in town. I could see the tavern lights in the distance, though admittedly only because of how flat the terrain was. I trekked on, now more so following the lights of the tavern from afar rather than the beaten path in the darkness.

Soon, the darkness swallowed all signs of the ground once beneath my feet, let alone a path to follow, no longer allowing moonlight to penetrate the darkness. I continue using the slowly growing lights as my only guide. The cold set in quickly, shifting from a hot sunny day to a chilly dark night in only minutes.

This wasn't a problem until the all light was eaten away by the night. It wasn't possible that Kenrik snuffed every lamp in the tavern yet tonight, especially in the common room. I stop, taking a few steps back. The lights reemerge.

"What?" I mutter. With this, the silence of the desert breaks. A strange sound reminiscent of wind fills my ears. Maybe I'd blinked without realizing it, causing the only thing in my vision to flicker out of existence.

Then, the air became warm. Within a couple steps the lights cut once more. I take a moment to ensure the influx of heat wasn't imaginary or something simple like my hot breath hitting my cold skin. No. This was heat. This was wind. This was darkness. Such a strange flip from everything just a few steps prior. I take a couple more steps.

Something hits my stretched-out hand. The palm of my hand was greeted with something soft and warm. I shift my fingers, feeling tufts of something between them. I pull lightly. The sound of the wind stops.

Just for a moment, something permeates the darkness beyond me. Two large, round rings of a pale yellow light set into my vision. Just as quickly as they flashed into existence, they disappear once more.

The dry, wispy texture beneath my fingers drags upward, and my hand is met with something now wet and hot. A white glint shows the curved outline of teeth in the night. My heart races as my brain strikes a similar experience. The canine creatures I first met in the desert, faijugh.

I didn't have time to waste, I skidded far over to my left until the lights came back into view. Its large black body was obstructing my view. I run, beginning to feel something sickening bubble up. I swallow what rises in my throat that was attempting to make its way out of my stomach. I put everything into my foot placement. Even a small stone could throw me to the ground and leave me as dog food.

A mix of my heartbeat and panting now drowned out every outside sound, I couldn't even tell if I was actually being chased. The lights in my vision were now huge and I could see the porch of the tavern. The only noise was the difference in sound from the stiff sand-like soil of the desert to the solid thump of my feet on concrete. I shove the doors open and thrust myself into my room. A loud thud shakes the tavern. This is followed by a series of scratches against the wood floor. I take a peak outside my room.

The black canine had attempted to force its body into the doorway, getting stuck in the doorframe and having to scratch its way out. A series of gasps emanates from the main room. One of which I note as Kenriks. He makes his way to the doorway. I couldn't let this elderly man attempt to get this monster out himself. I barge out of my room, "Kenrik! I'm sorry I-"

"Sorry? You're sorry?" He says loudly above the continuing scratches. I attempt to pull him back from the animal. He turns and looks at me with tears in his eyes. My stomach knots. The canine finally molds and compresses its large body and a thick coat of fur through the door. It makes its way toward Kenrik.

I see him tackled to the ground, a large paw pressing into one of Kenrik's shoulders. The Faijugh's face grew closer to his, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed him profusely. I attempt to throw myself at the beast in a final moment of desperation. I wait with my eyes squinted shut. Nothing, not an ounce of pain. I look down, unearthing my face from a mass of fur.

Kenrik was being licked and laughing from such. "Elaine, thank you!" He manages between breaths. I pry myself off the animal and take a step back.

"Elaine, you found Kyzu! How can I ever make it up to you?" he says.

I draw a breath in, "That's Kyzu? That thing is gigantic and monstrous!" the way that Kenrik described Kyzu as a protective and loving dog, yet this was the farthest thing I'd imagine from that. Oversized, provoking, and vicious was the thing in front of me. A sense of dizziness had wriggled its way into me. My vision begins to sway, though I futilely try to steady myself.

My heart rate hadn't acknowledged the lack of danger in the new setting, and my chest felt tight from such intense running so far. My throat felt raw from the cold dry air. I sucked a rickety breath in, it breaks itself up upon exhaling. I take a shaky step forward toward Kyzu, holding a deep sense of uncertainty in my mind. The dog doesn't seem to care about or even notice me anymore. Kyzu adjusts herself to allow Kenrik to get up. The faijugh mix lets out a sigh, pacing around the floor and letting out creaks along the way. She settles down beside Kenrik's chair, laying on the floor with a huff, her large body taking up considerable space in the common area.

Stepping over to her, I stand above this black shiny mass. I kneel down, taking a deep breath before feeling its long, straw-like fur. I swipe my hand up and down, watching the fur sway back and forth, the tufts of hair shining in the bright lantern light. Kyzu's chest rose and fell with every slow breath. I watch as her eyes fight sleep with each jolt awake before finally remaining shut.

It is just a big puppy. She now seemed so helpless, finally being able to rest after reuniting with her owner. It looks like under the voluminous fur there could be a bit of hunger residing, though it was hard to tell if she was truly underweight. Cracked, dry skin peeling on her nose and lips as well as her paw pads being so distressed that they were now jagged and rough to the touch. A seed of pity roots its way into my heart. I will also note the acknowledgment of a tinge of shame for both being afraid of such a seemingly timid creature and being wrong about its violent instincts.

I watch a sort of peace show its place in Kenrik's eyes, a new calmness to them. He sits at his chair under a lantern and pets Kyzu's head as they both rest. Almost all of which that were concerned about Kyzu no longer stared, an almost incredulous amount of trust in a bartender as a guest. I suppose this shows something special about the tavern, at the very least.

I let out a sigh, trying my best to place as much faith in Kenrik as the customers do. The feeling of danger is a hard one to immediately shake, though. Sitting at the counter seems like a good place to be since I wasn't ready to shut myself into my room yet. I take a peak into the kitchen, no staff. Not that it mattered, since I'm sure Kenrik wouldn't mind me pouring my own drink. I fill my glass with a berry mead and ice. Corking the slim bottle, I put it back onto the shelf and sip at my drink for a bit.

My ice now long melted, I slosh the watery remnant of my drink around my glass. The color was less pigmented and now almost transparent. I roll my shoulders, feeling much more relaxed. I get up, taking my glass behind the counter and into the kitchen to wash. I rinse it out and dry it with a new rag, returning behind the bar to set my glass with the others.

From behind the counter, I could see that the tavern was now dimmer, with a few of the lamps throughout the dining hall having gone out at this point. All dining patrons had retired to their rooms, tables cleaned, and the tavern quiet. By this point, even Kenrik had gone down into his room and settled into bed for the night.

As I set my glass on the shelf with the others, the doors open. I stand up from behind the counter after the creak emanates through the room. Val and I make eye contact; well, as much eye contact as you can make through a helm. He settles down on a stool at the bar, just a seat away from where I'd sat before washing my glass. He seemed a bit surprised, straightening his posture upon realizing it was me. "Elaine, are you the bartender for tonight?" he asked.

"I can be if needed, I don't mind too much if you only need a couple drinks. I just don't exactly want to get caught up working," I explain.

He responds with a nod, "Two glasses of whiskey, then," holding up two of his fingers as he speaks.

I pour him his drinks, putting more effort in than I would for my own, even making sure the ice amount was about the same in either glass. After putting away the whiskey bottle I take a seat on a stool just beside me, still sitting across from Val.

I caught myself on numerous occasions trying to sneak glances under his helm when he took a drink. I was already naturally a bit lower than him as we sat, it felt strangely tempting to be sitting right across from him. I would always avert my eyes after, making it all the more obvious when I'd done so.

"It's awfully late, don't have anywhere to be tomorrow I take it?" I ask, trying to make small talk.

"Actually, I'm heading Northeast for business. I've just had a long day," Val sighs out.

"I can't imagine what a long day must look like for you, I feel exhausted just from an excursion to Braiewood today." I chuckle, seeing him soften his tense stature.

"You must have walked there, right? It’s a ways away, I take it you had Hidorah escort you?" Val asks, putting his head down. I see him go for his second drink, and in a moment I make the decision to drop a rag off the counter, giving me the chance to duck down to grab it.

"Oh, no. Hidorah didn't work today either but I left after he did, so I walked alone." I don't break contact while kneeling to pick it up. I could see the underside of his throat; a darker complexion, though I'm unsure whether this was the lighting, with a shininess giving the indication of stubble on a wide, defined jawline leading down to a large Adam's apple. I see his throat force downward with a swallow, I do the same out of instinct.

"Oh, alright then..." He says, waiting a moment to press on, "I hope you didn't run into any trouble. I've heard mixed things about Braiewood."

"You've never been? I figured you would have by now," I say.

"No, just haven't gotten the chance to yet I guess," Val says dryly.

I take a moment before responding. Some people are easier to talk to than others, it is embarrassing finding myself with nothing to say in conversation. "Well, it's late. I think I should head to bed, I work tomorrow after all," I tell him with a smile. I get up to leave, collecting the coin he'd set on the counter at some point and putting it in the drawer.

"Goodnight, Elaine." He says, almost coldly.

I squint my eyes hard, sucking in a breath as he says it. I nod, returning to my room for the night.

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phelanspharmacy · 11 months

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2amtoday-blog · 1 year

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Umbrella Buying Guide

Walking in the rain is usually not enjoyable, but a good umbrella can make the experience less miserable by keeping you dry and providing easy storage when not in use. Our top choice is the Repel Windproof Travel Umbrella, which is compact yet sturdy with its nine-rib construction that can withstand strong winds. It is also reasonably priced compared to other umbrellas that are twice the cost. choosing a right umbrella can be a task. Here's a guide to help you make a well-informed decision. - Type: There are several types of umbrellas available, including compact, automatic, stick, golf, and beach umbrellas. Choose the type that suits your needs and preferences. - Size: Consider the size of the umbrella when open and closed. A compact umbrella is easy to carry, but it may not provide as much coverage as a larger umbrella. - Coverage: Ensure that the canopy of the umbrella provides sufficient coverage to keep you dry. Look for umbrellas with a wide coverage area and a deep canopy. - Durability: The durability of an umbrella is important, especially if you live in an area with frequent rain and strong winds. Look for umbrellas with sturdy frames and ribs. - Windproof: A windproof umbrella will not turn inside out during strong gusts of wind. Look for umbrellas with vented canopies or double-layered construction. - Handle: The handle of an umbrella should be comfortable to hold and provide a good grip, even when wet. Wooden and rubber handles are popular choices. - Color and Design: Umbrellas are available in a variety of colors and designs. Choose one that matches your style and personality. - Price: Umbrellas can range in price from a few dollars to hundreds of dollars. Consider your budget and choose an umbrella that provides good value for money. Our selection process focused on the umbrella's ability to provide ample coverage, be of manageable size, wind-proof, and good value. We also have four other picks to suit different preferences, including a budget travel umbrella and a high-end stick-style umbrella that offers more coverage made from premium materials.

Repel Windproof Travel Umbrella

The Repel Windproof Travel Umbrella is compact when folded (11.5 inches long) and expands to a sizable canopy (37 inches in diameter) with a touch of a button to protect you from precipitation, except during the windiest conditions. Its textured handle makes it easy for hands of all sizes to grip, and it comes in various colors to make it easier to spot in a crowded umbrella bucket. Repel also offers a lifetime refund or replacement guarantee, but only if you buy directly from them and register the item under its warranty.

AmazonBasics Automatic Travel Umbrella with Wind Vent

The AmazonBasics Automatic Travel Umbrella with Wind Vent offers a lower cost alternative to our top pick, especially if you choose the black version. Its vented design and sturdy construction allowed it to withstand even the strongest gusts during testing. However, this umbrella has had stock issues in the past, making it difficult to predict availability. As of winter 2023, stock seems to have stabilized, making it a solid option.

Balios Folding Double Canopy Umbrella

The Balios Folding Double Canopy Umbrella has a premium look and feel with its wooden handle and solid build quality, while still being less expensive than our top pick. However, the handle is more slippery than the Repel umbrella's handle, and there's no wrist strap, so you need to be careful not to drop it. This umbrella held up well to strong winds, and its 37-inch-wide canopy bounced back easily after inverting during testing. It deploys quickly.

The Lewis N. Clark Umbrella

The Lewis N. Clark Umbrella, a previous top pick, remains a great value option. It frequently goes on sale for half the price of our other picks, making it suitable for kids or individuals prone to losing umbrellas. Though it's not as sturdy as our other picks, it's about a quarter-pound lighter and offers better coverage and wind resistance than most sub-$20 umbrellas. It's available in nine colors.

Totes Auto Open Wooden Stick Umbrella

If you want more coverage than a compact automatic umbrella, stick umbrellas have a wider canopy, protecting more than just your upper torso. The Totes Auto Open Wooden Stick Umbrella is the most affordable option among the nine we tested. It held up well against strong winds and didn't feel top-heavy, a common issue with this type of umbrella. Though it looks nicer than expected for the price, if you prefer premium materials, consider our other pick, the Davek Elite.

DAVEK ELITE UMBRELLA

The Davek Elite is a more expensive, high-end option with a stitched leather handle, high-quality fiberglass frame, and a 44-inch microfiber canopy. It withstands wind excellently and turns inside out before recovering easily, thanks to its flexible ribs. It's available in three colors and comes with a lifetime guarantee. However, its cane handle measures 5 inches across, which could be difficult for individuals with smaller hands to manage.

Other Umbrellas You Can Consider

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#EditorChoice #Review #umbrella

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enlivenplus · 3 years

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Folding Double Handle Walking Stick with Flashlight for Elderly:-https://bit.ly/3ydt5xj

#folding double handle walking stick

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meetmymouth · 3 years

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ooh I think #7 and #17 from the blurb list would fit very well together! if you want!

THANK YOU LINDS <3<3

prompt list here, send a number!!

#7 If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle

#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

THIS IS 3K IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF SO PLEASE REBLOG LMAOOOOOO!!!!!

"This is my room," comes a gruff voice behind you as you keep looking out the window, taking in the greenery and the beautiful ocean.

See, you knew he would be here.

You knew, because Harry and Mitch were attached at the hip, and you didn't mind. You didn't mind seeing your ex every time you were invited to hang out with MitchandSarah & co, except when said ex decided to be an evil arsehole.

Perhaps, calling him an "ex" was weird, seeing how your time alone only consisted of you both getting high, mostly naked as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear and promised to make you feel good, be the best you've ever had. Other than that, though, he was an insufferable bastard. Since you never hung out with the man without your friends around–getting rat-arsed and high... and the activities that followed aside–, you didn't know if he was always this annoying.

He seemed to be getting along just fine with the others, especially Sarah and the other girls, so you had no problems scratching off the "women hater" off your list. And you can't ever recall him being this insufferable while you both were fucking which was, in his case, miserable. So, it was definitely annoying. You weren't that interested in him to think that he was being mean because he was secretly in love with you. That was a myth, a pathetic myth, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't steep that low. He was just an arse, full stop.

You turn around with an eye-roll, and within seeing his face, you nearly clench your fists like a ten-year-old. "Do you live here?" You ask, hoping the boring expression on your face is also detectable in your tone.

It's certainly not a surprise when Harry scoffs.

"I don't, but I picked this room first. Since, you know," he looks around, and walks further into the room, finally stopping at the feet of the bed. "You were late. As per."

"Oh fuck off. This isn't summer camp. Besides, I don't see any of your shit around. The room was empty when I arrived."

"If you bothered to look inside the wardrobe..."

Seriously, you find yourself thinking, how the fuck did you ever end up with this man. Naked.

There's a commotion downstairs, so you both turn to the door, but much to your dismay, there's no one coming to check up on you and hopefully, save you from Harry Styles' pathetic gob.

You turn towards the window again, eyes squinting briefly at the last bits of sunshine that's glinting from between the branches.

"Well. You shouldn't have left then. You weren't here when I arrived."

Harry shakes his head, and you swear you can see his nostrils flaring if you look carefully. Though, you just watch him with a smug smile on your face as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls open the white doors. True to his word, his clothes are there, perfectly folded, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt before you look back up at his face and see the furrowed eyebrows.

"See. My clothes. I'm sure Sarah will sort it out for you, find you another room or summat."

"There's only three bedrooms. Can't sleep with a pregnant woman and her boyfriend, can I?"

"What about Rachel and David? Aren't you best friend's with her?"

"Harry, you're ridiculous. Just–" you wipe the sweat off of your forehead, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter each passing minute. "–just sleep on the sofa. This is my first vacation this year. You go on holidays every week or so. Let us commoners have this."

"Oh, please. Didn't you have a girls weekend getaway or whatever the fuck in Soho Farmhouse two weeks ago?"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, and a raised eyebrow follows. "How do you know about that?"

"Because," he rolls his eyes, and slams the wardrobe shut. "You post seven hundred stories every day."

"You're a stalker."

"You sleep on the sofa."

You smirk, noticing how he avoided your previous statement.

To be fair, you hated posting on your story. Though, knowing Harry followed you on Instagram made posting on there fun, and seeing his username on the list of who watched your stories pop up at the very top every single time whenever you posted a story almost made you let out a mingy little laugh and rub your hands together, and scream "gotcha!".

"I won't."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"What a coincidence," you ignore the stare he's sending your way and walk towards your carry on, and start taking the contents out one by one, laying everything on the bed.

He watches with a scowl on his face, arms crossed across his chest, and a satisfied smile paints your features as you take out the toiletries bag next.

"Are you seriously unpacking right now?" Harry cranes his neck so he can see better. He looks ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed, but you refrain from saying anything.

In fact, you don't even answer him. Perhaps, you find yourself thinking, it was silly to unpack your underwear first. It wasn't as if you brought super "sexy" shit or lace everything. You can definitely feel his gaze watching your every movement as you take everything out carefully and place them on top of each other. With most of your underwear in hand, you get on one knee in front of the bedside table and open the drawer, placing everything inside and it's surprising how he hasn't claimed the bedside table yet.

"Look," he sighs. "I'll talk to Sarah, maybe you can sleep with her and Mitch–"

"–don't be stupid we're not making them sleep with other people because you can't be a gentleman and sleep on the sofa."

"Oh for fuck's sake," he growls, and you finally look at him, eyebrows raised in hopes of making him feel as stupid as he sounds right now. Unfortunately, though, he continues, "Okay, damn it, I'll sleep on the floor."

Fool.

"Common sense, Harry. Always pick sofa. No matter what."

"Were you born to make my life a living hell?"

"Look," you sit on the bed, and look around. "This is boring me to death. I'm sleeping on the bed. If you shut your gob, you can sleep with me on the bed."

Harry lets out an obnoxious laugh. "Just admit I was here first and you didn't bother checking the–"

"Yes, I didn't and what about it? I'm here now, aren't I? I'm on the bed, babes. Anyway," you get on your feet, and with one last look at him, you start walking towards the door. "I'll see you in a bit. I guess."

You both manage to avoid each other as much as you can throughout the day, and really, it wasn't that hard considering the good company of your friends, good food and good alcohol. You mainly helped Sarah and Rachel in the kitchen as the men lounged on the sun loungers, Mitch handling the grill and David helping you guys with the drinks that came in and out of the house pretty quickly with the way you lot consumed them like water.

You spend the night eating, laughing and drinking, sometimes singing along to whatever song played on David's fancy Bluetooth speaker, and everyone begins ushering inside with full bellies and most of them–except the very pregnant Sarah–with a tipsy smile on their faces.

You leave before Harry though, leaving him smoking his last cigarette by the pool while you run up the stairs and into the room, closing the door behind you. You quickly get rid of the romper and get your favourite pyjamas on, eyes searching for the orange makeup bag so you can take off the remaining makeup before bed. You knew it was silly not to do your night routine, but you still zip the bag closed with a sad expression on your face, not wanting to see your toner and night cream any more than you needed to as you throw it on the floor next to your bags. It's pathetic really, how determined you are to get in the bed before Harry can that you forego your whole routine and stick to some cotton pads. Though, plugging your charger and getting between the cool sheets make you forget all about it as you let out a sigh, and unlock your phone to do your nightly scroll before falling asleep.

As you double tap on a selfie, the door opens, and you hear him scoff, again. You keep scrolling though, and try to sneak a few glances at him as he makes a beeline for the wardrobe, and to your surprise, begins to undress. You try to stay calm, and not to think about how domestic this whole thing seems; being in the same room as him as he gets ready for bed.

Right, getting ready for bed.

You keep your eyes on your phone as his clothes hit the floor one by one, and when you look up briefly, he's got a pair of joggers on, and he's throwing the clothes he had on in the wardrobe.

He turns around, and find your gaze, and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew you'd be in bed, here, as soon as I heard someone running. Forgot you were a literal five-year-old," he mutters under his breath, loud enough so you can still hear him. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."

"I love how you're basically arguing with yourself."

"Like I said, I'm not sleeping on the sofa. I didn't come all the way to sleep on a bloody sofa."

"Suit yourself. I guess we're sharing. Unless," you lock your phone, and place it on the bedside table. "You want to share," you shrug, adjusting your pillow and sigh at the cool fabric against your hot cheeks.

You can feel him thinking, the wheels turning in his head, and you finally hear the floorboards creek underneath his feet as he walks closer to the bed, and pushes the sheets off of you. The whole thing.

You blink in surprise. "Stop it, dude! What the fuck."

"I'm getting in! Fuck's sake, be quiet."

"You did that just to annoy me."

You're both quiet for a minute, Harry taking his rings off and then comes his socks, and he finally copies you, laying on his back on the bed. He covers the both of you, though you know it's not intentional since he couldn't do it without covering his own body with the duvet, and then he lets out a strangled sigh.

"The bed's too small."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"What?" He turns his face to you, and perhaps it's the first time he's looking at you– really looking.

His brows are furrowed, and lips turned downwards in a pout.

"I'm taking the piss, Harry. I know you're not calling me fat."

"Good," he says, though his voice isn't exactly soft. "I wouldn't."

"Good."

Silence.

It's unbearable.

Despite the hot weather, you feel yourself shiver, and you wish you were the only one in bed so you could do the whole burrito technique with the duvet. Alas... you stay where you are. You both do.

A dog barks in the distance, the high-pitched bark coming through the open window, and you can feel Harry breathing too fast beside you. You want to shout at him, tell him to fuck off and... not breathe too fast, though it sounds a bit too rude even for you, so you stay silent and wait for the dog to pipe the fuck down.

You try to turn on your side, because you could never see yourself fall asleep laying on your back like a vampire, but you almost fall, not anticipating the tiny space you've got going on. It's bad, and you know you're not going to get a good sleep. So, you find yourself contemplating about getting up and sleeping on the sofa because honestly, fuck him.

Harry shuffles next to you, presumably trying to find a good position to sleep in himself, but he lets out a groan and it startles you.

"What's wrong with you!"

"The bed's too fucking small."

"We've established that."

He sniffs, hands clenching the sheets around his body. "I don't sleep on my back. My back hurts."

You don't say anything, hoping for him to just get up and leave, go sleep on the sofa. He doesn't, though. It's another fifteen minutes before you let out another sigh, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and Harry copies you. You both turn on your sides, facing each other and Harry groans when your knee makes contact with his thigh, making you cringe in embarrassment. A quiet sorry leaves your mouth and he shakes his head, then turns the other way, facing the door.

"Fuck," he spits after a minute. "If we both want to fit, we'll have to cuddle."

"Cuddle? Fuck no."

"Just," he turns to you again, but the bed is too small for you both so his knees touch yours. "Just come closer. Either that, or go sleep on the sofa."

"Why don't you–"

"You're so stubborn! Come closer, I won't eat you or fall in love with you. Fuck."

You groan, but oblige for some reason, feeling your heart beginning to beat faster for some ridiculous reason.

It's been a long time, you find yourself trying to convince your heart. It's been a long, long time since you've been this close to a human being. Too long since you've cuddled with someone, so obviously you were going to feel a little excited, and weird. Yes, definitely weird.

You get closer and he lifts up his arm, you both sharing a look before you roll your eyes and place your hand on his wrist, placing it on your hip. He's quiet, eyes searching yours, and the crease between his brows are gone, and you want to laugh, because who knew it only took your skin against his to wipe that stupid grimace off of his face.

"I still think you're annoying," Harry mumbles, clearly sleepy. His hold on your hip becomes tighter as his thumb strokes your skin over the fabric.

"I know. Just shut up and sleep."

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #concepts #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #babyurthendofjune #ask

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves.

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

“Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #jahmfic

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Dark Grey

A/n: So this was request but I couldn't find who requested it (and it wasn't anonymous!) So whoever did just give me a hey! This is literally the longest fic I have ever written.

Warnings: Blood, gore, death, sad Kaz, language, torture, Parem I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Your a double agent for the dregs

"Come on you little shits, we have a job to do." One of the higher ups of the Dime Lions yells at some men at some tables at the Emerald Palace in the back.

Little birds have told me that people have been raving about this place being extravagant, but it's really just extra dramatic if you ask me. The green of the building is like someone drunk from the Crow Club wandered over here and puked on it and someone just decided the color looked pretty, so they mixed some glitter and red and pow. There you have it.

That may just be me though.

I start to get up with all the others but the man who just yelled, jets hand in front of me, fast like I'm going to run off.

"The boss wants to talk with you about getting you higher status." The man growls obviously not happy about someone who could be possibly taking his spot and he's probably not happy it could be a girl. Well sucks too suck.

I almost nod and have an emotionless face on but I realize that's the real me would do that, have have to be Cozbi and she's a little naive. But she's good enough if Pekka wants to notice her.

I let a smile crawl on my face; "Well I guess your just going to have to tell Mr. Rollins I would be delighted." I say nearly flirting with an accent, but more taunting like as I twirl my tailored unnatural bright red hair (like it's VERY bright) around my finger and I grin like a popular school girl.

"I'm not your messenger." The man scowls.

"But boss wants you up there in five minutes." He snaps and goes off face all red.

I barely even manage keep into place long enough as the men walk out to start their job. As soon as they do I speed off to a bathroom and I write on a piece of paper in a stall.

Giving me higher status, think he's getting suspicions though. Their going on a job tomorrow night to take out the Blacktips. Amush. Pekka also got a stash of Parem. Don't know why. Stay Safe, don't give clues. Frame someone.

-Your favorite person from the barrel

I open the window above my stall and I do a low whistle.

Fweet. Fweet.

A crow comes and lands on the window sill I grin slightly and my (also tailored) e/c eyes touch down on the raven haired bird. I'm reminded of Kaz's raven hair and his dark brown eyes as I hand him the folded note and the bird tilts it's head and takes the note and fly's off.

I flush the toilet and hurry out heading to Pekka's office.

I open the door slowly priding myself for being exactly a minute late, it works really well for who I'm playing. I see Pekka siting in his chair but instead of waiting for me like I thought he would be. Right now though he's reading something with a almost confused look on his face.

Shit.

"Well, well, well Cozbi your finally here." Pekka smiles not a nice smile - though he is a barrel boss.

The door shuts behind me and someone shoves me to the ground and people surround me and hold me in place.

"Or should I say Y/n." And then everything goes black.

_______________Time skip a few hours in a random warehouse (not that you know that)😈😈😈___________________________________

I slowly open my eyes and I look around the place. I'm tied to chair there's no light in the room so it's hard to make out anything but I think the floor is concert but the walls are wood.

Cheap.

"I didn't think you would be up so soon Y/n... Well this is a surprise." Rollins says and then in flash stabs a dagger into my stomach.

My scream fills the air as he pulls the knife out. I make my voice quiver I can still be Cozbi, I can still be Cozbi.

"I-I don't know who Y/n-Y/n is sir-sir." I stutter but my entire body is on fire from being in enough interrogations before. It's telling me to be harsh to not get to the point, but I might be able to get out of here if I play the part.

He takes my jaw and shoves it forward harshly. "We already know who you are L/n. Y/n L/n the dregs notorious double agent that never gets killed or even better caught."

Pekka smiles sadistically.

"I'm going to make sure this story ends in red." He laughs.

He goes to leave but he puts his hand up.

"And make sure she's can't see." His henchmen put a blindfold on me as I hear the door close. I can feel them coming closer and I hear one smack something on the ground that must have been a bat.

"Let's have some fun girly." I tug at my bonds hopelessly and helplessness fills my body.

________TIME SKIP_________________________________________

My screams ring this room for the next week.

Or what I at least think is a week. There's no windows in here so it's hard to tell when time pass's. Pekka doesn't come back again but I know his coming soon because his henchmen have been worse than usual because they want a raise or something.

I gave up thinking Kaz would come. I remember what he told me last time I saw him before I went on this mission.

We won't come for you if you get caught and it's only a matter of time before you do.

I messed up the last mission we were on with the crows, I got Inej hurt and he wasn't happy. So I did this job.

Because maybe then I would get what I deserved.

My hands have knives through them sticking them to the chairs, there's blood all over my face from the daily beatings. My one leg is twisted and broken in ugly places and cuts and bruises litter my body.

I know it's only a matter of time before my body gives out and Pekka finally wins.

The door to my (what feels like) cell opens and there's Pekka and six more henchmen in the room.

Those are new.

They might not be henchmen though I think we're past that at this point, I think their assassins.

Or something like that anyways.

Their hoods are up but I can clearly see that there's two girls and four guys. My vision blurs a little. Maybe death will grant me mercy sooner than I thought.

"Meet my new friends Cozbi." Pekka mocks and jesters towards the cloaked figures.

"Ironic that you choose the name Cozbi. For did you know, it means liar? I thought maybe I should call you that now, liar. It fits perfectly you know?" Pekka spits in my face.

"Anyways..." Pekka drawls on for a bit and I realize the lack of movement in the halls. But before I can question that one of the male hooded figures gives a box to Rollins and he opens the box. Rollins grins like someone just made his day.

Fuck.

He advances on me with a small packet and I stay deadly still.

"Do you know what this is Cozbi." I keep my eyes trained on the packet.

"My name is Y/n."

Pekka laughs and grins evilly.

"You wanted to be Cozbi so you will be called as such." He growls and calls for is henchmen.

Two men come to tip my head back and hold my jaw in place. I try to shake them off by moving my head but it's no use.

"It's Parem." I freeze. No, no, no.

"For grisha you suffer by always wanting it not inculding the rare cases. But for normal humans."

He takes a step forward and he opens the packet and holds it over my mouth.

"It kills you terribly and so, so, so painfully." He crouches down and looks at me.

"Your going to die as Cozbi. Your going to die a liar, and I will make sure all of Ketterdam remembers that."

He gestures towards his henchmen and instead of trying to prier open my mouth like I expect them too.

They go and pull up my hands.

My hands go through the hilts of the blade and it hurts so much I can't do anything but scream.

Pekka shoves the Parem in my mouth.

My body feels like it's withering away and Pekka laughs as I vibrate against my seat. I feel my eyes widen and the only thing going through my head is that Rollins is a foul.

The knives.

And I'm not going out without a fight.

I pull the knives out of the handles of the seat and I scream as the hilt of the blades touch my skin but I quickly cut the bonds around me and I stab one of my knifes into the first henchmen.

I leap towards the other and I barley manage the scrap him before my body hits the floor and I can't move anymore.

Searing pain stabs through my body like multiple knives just stabbing me over and over again I expect Pekka to be the last face I see and I murmur something about the saints but then I see it.

The hooded figures.

It's the Crows.

The henchmen are down on the floor and Pekka is tied up and gagged to the chair. I feel my vision start to blur and the Crows go to check the area.

"We have to get her a healer!" Someone yells. But I'm on my back looking up and I barley even recognize that things are happening around me. It's like I'm watching from a different world but I can't do anything.

"Y/n!" Someone yells and picks me up from my spot on the ground.

"Come on Y/n!" Someone whisper-yells.

I groan as the person starts walking and I let out a rattling breath, that I knew that should concern me but I couldn't care less.

I just wanted it to end.

"Your not dying on me today Y/n."

Kaz, I think it's Kaz.

Everything shifts back into focus, Kaz is running (even with his bad leg) and somehow the searing pain from the parem in my body has started to subside. Noticing the many, many yards of guards running after the crows and some group of them has so, so, so many guns pointed right at Kaz.

Then it happens.

Suddenly I feel above the others, like I have powers that no one has ever had. The universe was bending to my will and I gasp as I'm lifted up into the air by something shadowy, and dark blackness surrounds my legs all the way up to my waist. I don't quiet know what I'm doing but it feels natural, like I knew how too do it all along.

I raise my hands into the air and shadows burst out into the open.

Guards are being cut in half, some are being chocked to death, some look like their getting stabbed multiple times as wounds just show up. Others look like they have a disease as darkness spreads across their bodies. And some just fall to the floor and die silently.

Their dead.

The power, and the need to protect everyone I care about is gone.

I don't even scream.

I hit the ground with a thud and I try to open my mouth as Kaz frantically pulls me into his arms cradling me. No, that couldn't be right though.

He yells for someone but I can't make it out I try to blink, but even that is hard and it's so slow and I can feel Kaz bring me closer too him but I don't really know what's reality anymore.

"Y/n." The voice (although it tries not to show it) lets concern and fear run through the words. I gasp.

"Kaz." I manage to say. He pulls me (somehow) closer as he lifts my face up to look into his.

He says something, but I can't comprehend anything he's saying. The edges of my vision start going black and everything else is going fuzzy.

"You'll live!" Kaz says, trying to reassure me but it sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more.

I place a hand on his and I want to say something, but the words are all mixed up and it feels like concrete is holding my jaw shut. Everything starts slowly turning black and I'm internally screaming in my head;

No! I have to say something! I can't go like this!

It's useless though, because everything slowly fades away the last thing I see is the dark brown of Kaz's concerned eyes.

_______TIME SKIP_____________________________________________

The light bulb of whatever room I'm in flickers off and on as darkens seems to try and cover it. I take a look around to see all the Crows tied up to a chair each, they have gags in their mouths and they look like they have been tortured out of their minds.

I run over to Wylan trying to help him out, but he let's out a muffled scream as I go towards him. I quickly turn to Jesper but he's so still in his seat not even looking at me.

Nina and her confident demeanor is gone, her aura is laced with panic and Matthias is with her on that one.

Inej can't seem to stop shaking, making her presence known to everyone. Then I turn to the last chair and my heart must have stopped.

Kaz's corpse lays, in the chair. Bubbles of darkens, are around his mouth and it looks like it chocked him to death.

Dirtyhands was finally beaten.

Then darkness shoots out of me, and I can't seem to stop it as it kills everyone else.

I sit up and a scream rips through my throat. I breath in heavily trying to get the air into my lungs. Everything in me burns, pain course's through me like a parasite on steroids, but at least time I succeed at muffling my scream.

I hear someone running from another room and the door fly's open. On command darkens shoots out from my hand and starts chocking the person- Holy shit! That's Kaz!

"No!" And it all appears to fade away into the shadows.

Tears start to fill my eyes, what will happen when I'm in a real state of panic? Could my nightmare eventually come true?

I feel the bed dip beside me and despite my hardest efforts, my eyes wander over to Kaz.

He looks like he hasn't slept a day in his life, with the essentially black moons under his eyes. His skin looks chalky white, contrasting his red rimmed eyes that looks like he had been crying just a few minutes ago.

Concern fills my shadowed heart, something must have happened for the Kaz fucking Brekker to be like this. My fears about being a shadow summoner disappear, they do stay at the back of my mind but finding out what's up with the bastard of the barrel is more important.

I carefully place a hand on his cheek. He tense's up a bit before relaxing into the palm of my hand and even leaning into it a bit.

"What happened?"

Kaz looks at me in disbelief. "What happened?" He lets out a chocked laugh that holds a sob in the background.

"You died." My breath hitches in my throat, wait... That can't be right. Can it?

"Matthias had to do chest compression's on you while Nina tried to restart your heart. All because I couldn't fucking do it."

He takes in a breath and rips my hand away from his face.

"Your heart stopped Y/n, we thought you were dead. But they kept going and somehow saved you!" A sob tears through his throat and Kaz Brekker breaks down in front of me. His walls that he has tried so hard to keep strong have had a boulder thrown at it. Smashing it with so much force that he couldn't possibly rebuild it.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. "For all the pain I caused you." I somehow manage to speak as my own tears start to come up.

"Seriously? Your sorry?" Kaz turns to me and grips my shoulders.

"Your the one who died, damn it!"

"Hey I have something to hold over Jesper?" I try to joke and it gets a small, very tiny tried smile out of Kaz.

"And the fact that your a shadow summoner."

"I didn't know." I say quickly and I pull back defensively, Kaz just sighs.

"I know."

He lets his hands run down my arms and his hands make delicate patterns on my skin. Then I remember the parem. Fuck.

"What were the effects of the parem?" If anyone would know, it would be Kaz.

He pause's for a second seemingly in thought before opening his mouth the speak.

"Well your life span was shortened to a normal one." I exhale in relief at that news, I really didn't want to live for centuries.

"But your powers could surpass the Darkling's, and the only reason you don't have the opposite of what you have now is because you pushed it down for so long. The healers somehow purged the parem out of your body before it could make you a mindless addict."

"That better news then I thought I would get." Kaz nods but there's something else lingering in the back of his head.

He thinks I'm going to leave.

I intertwine our hands together, and I turn my head to look him right in the eyes.

"I'm not leaving." I blurt out.

"If I went to the little palace I would get hunted, if I went anywhere else I would get hunted. I might go into hiding for a bit, but I'm not leaving you."

A smile that's even bigger than the last one by some means crawls up on his face.

"Good, because I just got you back."

Words 3021

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua

(If you want to be added just comment taglist)

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imaginationmess · 3 years

Text

TAKE MY HAND (Zombie Apocalypse) [Bakugou Katsuki X Reader]; ONE

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

"We are still fucking fighting and won't stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!"

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ZERO; Masterlist

Chapter One

Word Count: 1,500

The intruders' hands were tied behind their backs. There is a young woman who sighs out of annoyance seeing them not awake yet from one of the children's quirks. They were doing what they were trained to do to protect their home.

"Why aren't we killing them, yet even torturing them for invading our territory? Miss Glitch." An older man with tattoos all over his body and many burn scars on his face from his old days of being an assassin.

"Daichi. I made a promise a long time ago to their teacher. He wouldn't lose another student. I will admit it was the stupidest bold thing they could ever do. I am not usually here on the main base and taking care of business on the other bases." The [hair color]ed young lady pulls a chair to sit down, knowing they are gonna be waking up soon enough.

"Was it that time? You decide to try to become a hero enrolling in that prestigious school. You were acting to be a normal teenager once in your life to blend in with the normal ones." Daichi recalls when you were 15 years old.

You left the mafia life, having no other choice because there would have been lethal consequences. If you didn't leave, you may have lost your life. He was more of a father than your biological one. He was the one who helped you get a new identity using your mother's last name and getting in contact with your biological mother who left your father to find out how abusive and dangerous he was. She lost the custody battle against your biological father due to him having the money to bribe the judge.

You thought back to a couple of years ago, where it felt like a good dream to be too good to be real. You had a normal teenage social life where you have friends around your age instead of being way older than you and weren't afraid of you. Those connections that you made were genuine, not faked despite everyone thinking it was.

You were just a child who wanted to be accepted and cared about.

There was a knock to reveal the 8-year-old girl that snaps out of your daydream state before ordering her to come inside.

"You can go ahead, wake them up, dear." You smiled at the young child who returned it, before running off to touching their skin.

"Wake up." Her command was crystal clear, causing all four of them to stir awake.

You stand up and reach into your pocket, your knife flicking it up with a snap. The sound of the knife opening cutting through the tense air.

"You can go back to playing with the kids. This is gonna be a conversation for the adults." Daichi walks the young child out of the room. Daichi hands her over a piece of candy that is technically like treasure due to the state of the world.

The four started jumping up and down on their wooden chairs to break them. They have the right to be scared. They realized who was standing in front of them. You had killed their friend in cold blood all those years ago at the beginning of the apocalypse. You were approaching them with the calm expression similar to their encounters with serial killers.

You walk around their chairs despite them moving around attempting to break free. You cut the restraints off of them swiftly. You didn't flinch when all of them turned around to try to land an attack on you.

You let your body become ghost-like letting their punches phase through you causing them to be surprised. You took your hands to make them solid again and grabbed the two colored-haired and the green-haired smash into each other heads harshly. You teleport out from the tight spot a few feet away from them.

Your body reverts to normal and takes a seat casually.

"Are we gonna throw punches at each other or we are going to talk about how stupid the four of you are for walking into mafia base? You only got lucky. I was even here because you would have met your end by my soldiers from the normal protocol when it comes to outsiders invading our base." You laid back on your chair and crossed your arms against your chest.

The green-haired male was hesitant and took a seat on the chair that he was originally tied to. This caused a domino effect among the group.

"We were sent by Pixie Bob and Eraserhead to recruit the leader, but... we didn't know it would be you." He lays out the facts.

"Midoriya, why would they even want to recruit m- Unless you guys are planning to travel in other territories that aren't in my restriction." You voiced your thoughts.

"We may have found a way to find a cure. The downside is we are lacking supplies to complete it." Midoriya stares into your eyes with confidence.

"If you know what you need, I may already have it. I can spare some of my laboratory materials." You crack your neck, relaxing your shoulders from the tension of thinking. You need to fight.

"Don't take us like dumbasses who can't use their brain. What's the price?" The sandy blond male standing up from his chair.

You smirk mischievously. "It's the simplest thing. You can easily provide. Bakugo."

Bakugou's face scrunches up in frustration. He can't read your body language like before. He can't tell if you are teasing or being serious.

"We aren't trading Bakugo. If that's what you are thinking." The two-colored male responds.

"Todoroki, the naive one as always. I don't want him per se. You can keep him. What I want is a gallon of his sweat, in exchange for the materials I have on hand." You say, before standing up.

The shock of all their faces hearing something they never have heard from negotiating with other survivors. Bakugou's sweat.

"Do you even have what we wan-" The black-haired man with the red tips says, sticking his hand into his pocket to find it empty?

You pull out the list of materials that you stole from his pockets. This automatically causes them to search on their person to find out they have been unarmed.

"You are insane if you think. I was gonna leave you guys armed with knives to small pistols and guns. To answer your question, Kirishima. I do have them and you will get your weapons back when you depart from the base. It's a primary rule that is in this haven. No weapons allowed if you aren't on duty." You casually say as you double-check upon the list of materials.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard." Bakugou retorts.

"It's to prevent a tragedy if a minor doesn't know how to use a gun. This base is a primary home for families who have young children into orphans and create weapons. But do we have a deal or not?" You look up at them and fold the paper, slipping it back into your pocket.

"What are you gonna do with my sweat?" Bakugou asks.

"Make explosive bombs, of course. What do you think? What it takes to have the amount of territory I possess. I have to have an upper hand on handing the other mafia groups to keep everyone in my territory safe. I am gonna let you four think about it for the night." You turn around and walk to the door to open it. You wave your hand to signal someone to come over.

The same teenager who was in combination with the young child from earlier comes inside with two swords strapped on his back. You clap your hands on the young boy's shoulders.

"Speedy here, will give you guys a quick tour of the base and take you guys to take a quick shower because you four hella stink. Getting something to eat from the cafeteria and where you will be sleeping. He will be taking care of you while I am doing the rest of my business before you guys come interpreting it. He considers him as your watchdog. If you misbehave, he is allowed to knock the fuck out. He may be young, but he is deadly. See you boys later."

You walk away leaving your former classmates speechless. You are in a way welcoming them into your base knowing they don't trust you, which is why. You are using a young teenager to be their tour guide.

"I don't suggest acting out. We were ordered not to harm any of you, but we are still allowed to knock you out and kick you out without your weapons." Speed comments.

"We can take your punk ass down, easily."

"You hesitated because we are minors. We have been growing up in the apocalypse for a long time now. We aren't children anymore. We are survivors for a reason."

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

boogie business ⇾ myg, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.) x ceo!yoongi

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ 80s au, smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ after making an executive decision without the consensus approval of your co-partners, they generously show you how it’s done in the boogie business.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 8.9k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, switch!yoongi, undercut!yoongi, sub!reader, mentions of smoking (cigarettes), rough sex, public sex, ddlg kink, humilition kink, size kink, tongue kink, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, fingering (with big rings), choking, body worshipping, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, rimming, light bondage, anal, ass play, spit play, breath play, breast play

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ this is the thirsting result of the dynamite teaser and yoongi posting selfies only half an hour later… enjoy!

✼ banner by ⇾ @namluve (thank you so so so much hunbun~ // requested through bangtanhq’s request board)

✼ beta’d by ⇾ @uhgood-dooghu (thank you a bunch dear~) and @kkulmoon (you’re a champ for putting up with my thirsty ass lmao~)

✼ le playlist

Working late, you sit in your office. The neon glow of the downtown’s nightlife seeps into the room in hues of green and pink. The candy green cassette plays soft pop. Your white calf high, rubber boots tap along to the beat. Smacking your mint gum, you scribble notes about the demo in your little notepad. Owning a record company is hard, especially when you have two co-partners that cannot seem to agree with you on anything. However, it’s moments like this, moments you have alone with just the music that keep you grounded. You glance up at the glass walls that give you a full view of the empty office. With everyone long gone, you have the whole office to yourself too. It’s just the peaceful space you need to collect your thoughts before you really need to get to work. Humming along to the rhythm, you wonder what song this is. Maybe you can pick something like it on your way home. Though, you doubt you’ll be able to find it now.

A loud creak halts your writing. Trailing your gaze upwards, you find your business partners standing in the doorway. You’ve been expecting them, but you haven’t counted on them looking this good. The taller one, in a sleek emerald suit and swept blonde hair, leans against the frame. His uneven eyes already cloud with lust. The other one, sporting an undercut pushed up by a headband and a grey suit, tips his yellow tinted sunglasses down to get a better look at you. He smirks then bites his lip as if to keep from chuckling.

You flash them both a sarcastically sweet smile. “Now, now boys,” you mockingly pout. “You can do better than that. Why don’t you shut the door and try it again, with a little knock this time?”

Mr. Kim is not amused. He tenses his jaw. Mr. Min raises a brow, intrigued and impressed that you have the courage to speak to them with such acerbity.

Licking his lips, Mr. Kim pushes himself off the doorframe and steps around Mr. Min. “That’s cute,” he seethes through a taunting smirk. Already you feel your blossom pink thong wettening, sticking to your folds. His voice is so deep, reaching low enough to make the pit of your stomach tingle. He rests his palms on the edge of your desk and leans forward. You sit back in your chair, all smiles and feigned sweetness falling from your features. “You think you can tell us what to do, hmm? Little girl has her own office and suddenly thinks she owns the place.”

Mr. Min makes himself comfortable in one of your armchairs before your desk. He props his feet up on the table and lights himself a cigarette. “She just doesn’t understand the business yet, Taehyung,” he mumbles after a puff.

You drag your gaze from Mr. Min to Taehyung, slightly lowering your chin to gaze at him through your lashes. And while Mr. Min finds it amusing, Taehyung is still unconvinced. He cups your face, thumb over your freshly pink glossed lips. “I’m not quite sure that’s how she works, Yoongi.”

“Have a seat,” Yoongi tells him. “And let’s try to get to the bottom of this.”

Taehyung is reluctant to walk away. He pauses, stares, calculates. The corner of your lips twitch. Humming a low growl, he lets go of your chin and stands to his full height. You cannot help but stare up at him with a careful degree of innocence, then glancing at Yoongi shyly. Taehyung bites his lip and back peddles until he reaches the other armchair to take a seat.

Gaze bouncing all over your torso, Yoongi rubs his chin. “All you have to do is find the next star,” he starts before taking another puff of smoke and passing the cigarette to Taehyung. “Is that not what we told you when we signed off the contracts for the merger? Do you remember what we told you?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he lazily orders.

Though lacking depth, Yoongi’s voice is raspy, scratching at that uncharted terrority of lust within your soul. So tiresome, so unbothered, his orders still manage to ripple through you, pooling your core with a fresh dose of arousal. Gulping, you repeat their words in a squeak, “You find the voices; we’ll handle the music.”

Taehyung chuckles, a cloud of smoke breaking through his lips. But his vocal additions to the conversation start and end there. His eyes continue to speak for him instead. With a hard glare, he chews on his bottom lip and quickly quirks his brows. You cross your legs under the desk to relieve some tension, but it only makes you crave them even more.

“You’re such a good listener, darling,” Yoongi praises with a gummy smirk. “See?” He glances at Taehyung before redirecting his attention to you. “This is why I’m so confused. You listen so well but you still misbehave. Is it something we did, maybe something we said that made you think you can approve demos?”

Squirming in your seat, you pout at him. His once cold stare warms up a bit at the sight. His heart melts at submission, you realize. Sparing a glance at Taehyung, you find that he does not respond the same way. But, maybe some neglect of attention his way might get him to warm up to you a bit. Pushing your chair back, you stand up and circle around your desk to lean on the edge of it. The smack, smack, smack of your gum piques their interest, but it’s the tight pink, white, and pale green striped dress that captivates them. Their cocky defences fall upon it’s reveal, hungry eyes dancing around your curves. Taehyung almost drops the cigarette, quick to smudge it out in the ashtray and keep his hands free.

Resting your hands back against your desk, you arch your chest out and innocently explain, “I thought it was great. The artist asked for my opinion and as an equal member of the company, I approved of it. I don’t see why that’s such an issue. I wouldn’t be so upset if you found an artist even though it may be my job.”

The sweetness of your voice snaps them back into their roles. They share a knowing look before Taehyung rises from his seat. His eyes linger on how your ass sits on the edge of the desk, on the way the tabletop pushes it up and elevates its thickness. Meeting your gaze once more, he unbuttons his vest and smirks. “You really don’t understand the boogie business, do you, babygirl?” He whispers, one hand resting on your waist while the other cups your cheek.

Chest suddenly heaving, you find it hard to breath. So wet, you can feel the stickiness of your arousal slick on your thighs as you press them together. His gaze is so intense, you cannot hold it for long. Instead, you look to Yoongi. He has his hand over his crotch and tongues his cheek at you.

Taehyung nudges you back to him then kisses you. You lean into it without much thought or protest. Yoongi chuckles somewhere beside you, his callous fingers playing with the wavy hem of your dress. He pulls it up as Taehyung slips his tongue in. Playing around, Taehyung is quick to show you who’s in charge. He attacks your tongue only to stroke it with his own.

Breaking the kiss, he starts to chew on your piece of gum. “Mm, minty,” he notes with a wink.

“Oh?” Yoongi asks before replacing Taehyung’s hand on your chin with his own and directing your face towards him. Before you can even react, he presses his lips onto yours. He’s just as needy, but a bit more tamed. He gives you an opportunity to play with his tongue first before taking the plunge.

You moan into Yoongi’s mouth and Taehyung’s grip on your waist tightens at the sound. You break the kiss to look over at him. Yoongi does not seem too bothered with that fact, trailing kisses down from your jaw to your neck. His hands seem to keep busy too, one resting on the small of your back while the other cups your right breast, the one closest to him.

Tangling his fingers in your perfectly styled hair, Taehyung pulls you in for another wet kiss. That piece of gum bounces between your mouths, doused in your saliva before he takes it once more and pulls away. Your chin drips with strings of saliva, eyes already half lidded from the mere implication of what the two of them can do to you. If you had known this is what was in store, you would’ve signed that contract sooner.

He’s supposed to say something now, but instead he just loosens his red and green striped tie and takes it off. You let out a shaky breath, one that Yoongi picks up on as he stops all his kisses on your collarbone and looks back at Taehyung. He quirks a brow at his business partner, but Taehyung does not spare him a glance. “Hold her hands back,” he orders instead.

“But-”

“Now.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung regards you with feral desire, but Yoongi is more curious, and hesitant to follow Taehyung’s instructions. But the bark in his tone does not leave anymore room for an argument. So Yoongi caves, guiding you up off the edge of the desk and holding your hands back. And though you’re supposed to look nervous, you cannot hide your excitement. Little smile playing on your lips and eyes lighting up with intrigue, you hold Taehyung’s cold stare. You assume that’s another reason why Yoongi eventually caved. Both men know you’re eager to see what all this boogie business really is about.

Taehyung raises a brow, gaze drifting down your frame for a second. “No, wait,” he pauses and Yoongi instantly lets go of you. Smirking, Taehyung hands Yoongi his tie then presses his body against yours. His erection, hard and bulging, cannot be ignored. He rubs it against your stomach for a second as his fingers trail the hem of your dress. Pursing his lips, Taehyung spits on your cleavage. You gasp, leaning into him. The action surprises both men, but they must know that you had no control. It was reactive. He spits and you give in. You probably would’ve done the same if Yoongi had spit on you too.

As if reading your thoughts, Yoongi steps forward and tests the theory out. He spits in your face and you find yourself moaning, leaning in for a kiss only to have him nudge your chin towards Taehyung. All three of you snap back into the moment with that redirection.

“You’ve spoiled your dress, babygirl,” he tsks, feigning concern. “Let us help you out of it.”

Yoongi grips onto the edge of your dress while Taehyung rests his hands on your thick thighs. And as your older partner pulls your dress off you, the younger one slides his hands up, following every curve and dip of your body to your fingertips. He then brings your hands down and has Yoongi tie them tightly behind you. All you can do is gawk up at Taehyung as he towers over you.

He misinterprets the gesture, or you at least think that he must have, since he purses his lips once more and drops a wad of spit in your mouth. Your eyes flutter close upon tasting the warm, minty liquid then you swallow. Previously stone faced, Taehyung finds your reaction so amusing that he chuckles and calls Yoongi over.

“Spit in her mouth,” he laughs, once Yoongi circles from behind you. Taehyung’s eyes sparkle with excitement while Yoongi raises a brow.

After thumbing your chin to open your mouth, Yoongi spits in it. Your reaction is the same only this time you savour the taste a bit more. Taehyung may have that gum to chew away the remnants of the cigarette, but Yoongi doesn’t. His spit tastes a bit charred, like it had been smoked. And, for some reason, you feel the need to savour it more. This is not what was planned at all, but they must like seeing you like this. You like seeing them like this. You open your mouth again, turning to Taehyung. The action is obvious. He knows you want another taste of his tongue, but he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he sticks to what he’s supposed to be doing; punishing you.

Yoongi tosses your dress somewhere in your office, distracted by the way your thong disappears between your cheeks. He tugs at the hem to find it as Taehyung kisses his way from your neck to the valley of your breasts. You’re not sure what to do even though you’ve been in this situation often. These men are different. Taehyung takes what he wants. He’s impulsive and instant. Yoongi adores dotting on you. The only thing he takes is his time. He’s patient and calculative. Shifting behind you, he nuzzles his nose through your hair and against the nape of your neck. They inhale your cherry lime scent in tandem, making you shiver with lust.

Their cohesive force only starts there. The moment Taehyung cups your bare breasts, Yoongi does the same to your revealed asscheeks. Slap, clap, slap, clap, they alternate sides but the result is consistent. Your ass and tits jiggle with each hit, moans tumbling out of you. What have you done to be trapped in such a heavenly position? The thought almost troubleshoots your words back to you.

“That hurts, daddy,” you pout.

It doesn’t. Not too much anyway. But the complaint sparks something even darker within them. Taehyung lifts his face from between your breasts, sharing a sinister smile with Yoongi. “We hear you,” he smirks at you, groping your breasts like he owns you. “But we’re going to hit you harder anyways.”

“Sound familiar?” Yoongi questions in a whisper, lips pressed against your ear.

You’re supposed to reply, but they both seem to be eager to continue this punishment, cutting your words out again with more smacks. The stings ignite ripples of excited nerves to your core. The space between your legs is sticky, tacky, and sopping with your arousal. You don’t need to see it or reach a hand down to know that’s the case. Every hit sends a new rush of juices, coating your thighs with your horniness too. Clenching your fists, you try to resist the urge to stop Yoongi’s hand or fight against the silk tie.

Taehyung growls, so fascinated by the way your tits bounce with each smack. He dives his face back between them, teeth out and attacking while his tongue soothes the little bite wounds. Groping your breasts, he rubs the pain he caused away. Whining, you gaze down at him. He’s all too focused to look back up at you, but just watching him nibble on your skin then lick over it has your pussy clenching, tightening for that kind of attention too.

The hesitance lingers behind you. Yoongi is having trouble focusing on the punishment, wanting to ravish you as well. After one last smack, and a loud moan from you, he allows himself to get lost in the way your ass shakes. “What do you have to say for yourself, slut?” He questions on his knees in that rough rasp before his tongue meets your cheeks.

They both seem to have an affinity for using their tongues. What a warm and wet surprise it is to have it all over you. Digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass, Yoongi pushes your cheeks up and slobbers all over your asshole. His tongue is heavy, moist, and highly skilled in making you scream, as you have already done so thrice from just two laps against your tightest hole.

“I-” You start only for Yoongi to cut you off.

He groans after accidentally sneaking a taste of your wetness, piquing Taehyung’s interest too. Though he still holds onto your breasts, Taehyung lifts his head and peeks over at Yoongi on his knees behind you. Chuckling, he asks, “Does she taste sorry?”

You nod rapidly, leaning forward towards Taehyung to arch your back and give Yoongi a better grip on your ass. Taehyung smirks at you as he chews on your piece of gum. He looks absolutely sinful, but it’s the way Yoongi drags your arousal to your asshole and pushes his tongue in to ensure less resistance that has your jaw slack and eyes twitching. “Ahh, d-daddy,” you squeal as your knees tremble.

“I need a better look to know for sure,” Yoongi replies, looking over to Taehyung and ignoring the way you whine at the loss of contact.

Taehyung nods and nonchalantly suggests that Yoongi might be more comfortable on his back. He then turns back to you and wraps his hands around your neck. You can feel Yoongi pushing your legs apart and making himself comfortable beneath you. But, Taehyung refuses to let you watch his business partner gasp and gape at your drenched, thong covered pussy. He pulses his grip and whispers, “Feel that?” When you rush to nod, he says, “That’s how my cock will feel when it’s deep in there.”

Holy shit. He’s not supposed to say that. He’s completely taken this entire interaction into his own hands. It’s his show now and both, you and Yoongi, will follow every little thing he wants. That’s clear enough in his eyes. And though you know you can easily call all this off, stop every single hand on you and step away from this, you don’t want to. It’s not at all what you signed up for; it’s better.

You gasp, eyes watering from the ache of your pathetically needy pussy as Taehyung guides you down on your knees. Your crotch hovers over Yoongi’s face. As Taehyung tightens his hold around your neck, Yoongi brushes the top of his giant ruby jeweled ring between your clothed folds. You shutter through a dry sob. They’ve barely done a thing and you’re coming apart. You can cum in this very moment. The image of Taehyung towering over you, his concealed cock inches from your face, and Yoongi laid out under you, rings teasing, is ecstasy enough.

“Beg a little.”

Taehyung’s orders are always so cryptic. Yoongi’s are blunt, straight to the point and sting far worse than any of their spankings have. But Taehyung enjoys making you search for the answer. He loves watching your gaze shift as you wonder who to beg to first. You want that ring to stretch you just as badly as you want Taehyung’s cock to alienate your throat. Chewing on your lip, you glance down at Yoongi, who merely raises his brows. If he’s growing impatient, you worry that Taehyung’s patience might be nonexistent now.

Feeling him readjust his grip, most likely to cut your breath off for your defiance, you’re quick to plead, “Please just fucking ruin me, Daddys. Ple-”

Yoongi shoves his fingers in and you find that you’ve miscalculated. It wasn’t one ring, but two. Three fingers, two rings and one fast pace of destruction as Yoongi holds your thong aside with his free hand. Mouth falling open, you scream from the sweet stretch. If they hadn’t made you this wet, that first pluge would’ve shocked your body still with pain. But, with the amount of arousal they’ve coaxed out of you, it all slides in so easily.

Taehyung takes your wide gaping lips as an invitation in. While you’re distracted with the way those rings brush up so perfectly against your tight walls, he pulls out his cock and slips it into your mouth. Crossing your eyes down on his cock, you moan around him. Less than a quarter of him is in you, but he’s still so thick, so heavy, so fucking big. Your jaw’s straining, on the verge of aching from the sheer weight of him. And he’s so fucking veiny. Is Yoongi this veiny too? This fucking huge?

Hypnotized by the sight of Taehyung’s cock and the waves of pleasure from Yoongi’s rings, you fall out of your role. They both had verged off their goal of punishing you. Why should you continue to act like this is terrible when it’s all you’ve dreamed of. Hips rolling into Yoongi’s long fingers, you relax your throat and snap your gaze up to Taehyung. He sees something different swimming in your eyes. No more does that innocent act exist. If they want to flex their years of experience, then so will you.

Before he can react, you take him all in one go and hold him there. You gag, moan, and drool, saliva falling over Yoongi’s forehead, making him groan. Taehyung furrows his brows, lips in a scowl. He looks completely at your mercy. His board chest heaves at the sight of you so fucking compliate and eager to please. In the same rhythm Taehyung pressed around your neck, his cock pulses in your throat. It makes you cry, quite shamelessly, but it is not what makes you whine.

“Oh, is that what you are?” Taehyung questions. “A fucking cocksleeve? Babygirl wants her daddys to use her, hmm?”

Is that really the impression you’re giving? You barely even had to play into it. These men really brought out your most feral, unbounded side and let you run wild. And within what, the first ten minutes? This is not how it’s supposed to go. You’re supposed to talk more, flirt, establish a base to build off of before any dicks and tits are whipped out. And even as you are thinking all this, you cannot refuse the sexual call these two hold on your very body. It’s almost as if you were made for this kind of praise and attention from Taehyung and Yoongi only, no one else. They each reach a different side of you that you have not even discovered yet.

You nod your head slightly in response to Taehyung’s questions. He smirks down at you as if allowing you to be used as such, as the cocksleeve you so proudly are.

Though, your reign of pride ends there. Mewling desperately, your eyes widen as Yoongi pulls his fingers out, almost losing his rings from your tightness in the process. Ignoring your muffled protests against his decision, he barks, “Sit the fuck down, babygirl.”

You cannot resist that order, let alone his voice. Instantly, you drop your pussy down on his face. Very little care and grace greets that action, but you are confident that he will find his way through. And he does. With your panties already pushed aside, Yoongi slurps up your juices within seconds of your land. He gruffs and grunts and you’re worried that you might be suffocating him until you feel him hold your thighs down on him like he wants you to do so, to take all the air out of him and replace his life source with your arousal instead.

He’s a beast down there, but that doesn’t allow you to forget that you have a beast lodged down your throat too. While Yoongi is drowning in your pussy, you’re choking on Taehyung’s cock. Warming his length in your mouth has teased him enough, it would seem, as he flares his nostrils and glares down at you. He wants to be upset, wants to be furious, yet his eyes tell a different story. Pupils dilated and gaze soft, all you can see is a needy, desperate daddy in need of some release.

And who the fuck are you to deny him that?

Pulling him out, you leave his tip resting on your lips as you huff for air through your nose. You moan and whine at Yoongi’s ministrations below, rolling your hips into his mouth, then open up your own when you see Taehyung sneering at you. “Did Daddy tell you to stop?” He hisses.

Was that rhetorical? You suppose it must have been since he rams his cock back in your mouth, denying you the opportunity to answer. This may be seen as a disadvantage if he wasn’t doing what he knows you want him to, if he wasn’t using your mouth like his personal cocksleeve.

You hold your breath. In and out goes his cock, hips jolting with every moan of yours that vibrates around him. You’re being dined while dining. Is this always how the boogie business goes? If so, you have no problem getting down with it.

“Yoongi, she’s so adaptable,” Taehyung groans over your gagging whines. “So eager to learn and please.”

Mouth full of pussy, Yoongi mutters something against your folds and Taehyung chuckles, agreeing. The sight might have been more amusing to you if that little ripple of vibration from Yoongi’s response with his tongue darting in and out of you hadn’t taken you over the edge. Fighting against Taehyung’s grip on your hair, you try your best to pull him out of your mouth before you completely fall apart.

Taehyung’s still deep in you. Yoongi holds you in place. You are trapped and cumming while choking on moans, gags, whines, and a monster cock. Body shaking, you try to loosen your tied hands from their place behind you. All you need is a moment to ground yourself and try not to pass out from the mere wave of ecstasy that overwhelms you. With your head tilted back, Taehyung rams into your throat, unbarred and unleashed. Yoongi slurps you down below all the while. Your tears are boundless, streaming down your face. Both men hold very little remorse for the waves of pleasure they caused you.

“Babygirl is cumming,” Taehyung laughs, cooing down at you. Of course, it’s all while he’s thrusting in your mouth like the true toy you are.

“So sweet,” Yoongi seems to mumble. “So cute.”

He shakes his face between your legs as you grind down against him. You’re so eager to ride out this orgasm… until you’re not. Like a switch the pleasure flashed into hints of pain. Too much is the constant attack on your clit, the intrusion of your pussy. Too much is the warmth of his wet mouth. Too much is his tongue technology. You understand why they call him that now. There really isn’t anything that tongue can’t do, especially you.

Petting your hair back, Taehyung could have easily given the impression that he’s gentle. But his cock is jerking into you at an ungodly speed. “So precious,” he smiles, smacking that piece of gum like he did your tits.

There’s something in his tone though. Or maybe it’s the overstimulation of Yoongi’s tongue. Either way, you’re sobbing. Moans and cries escape you from the overwhelming pleasure and Taehyung suddenly breaks this Daddy character, and pulls his cock out. Yoongi halts all movements as well. He tires to lift you off him, but you only seem to want to grind further into his mouth, even if it means more blissful pleasure.

You heave freely with Taehyung’s cock now vancat from your throat and cry to your heart's content. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you whine with every circle of your hips.

Both men understand the cause now, and neither are pleased. Taehyung grasps onto your neck, digging his fingers in. Yoongi grazes his teeth on your clit, nibbling on it instead of sucking. You scream. Your once rolling eyes shoot open at the harsh actions. Taehyung lifts you up from his grip on your throat. You’re having trouble staying upright. Still, Yoongi slips out from underneath you. He wraps his arm around your waist and to keep you steady, telling Taehyung, “Get down there. She’s a fucking treat.”

Taehyung smirks, admiring the way you have completely smeared Yoongi’s face with your orgasm. He gets on his knees as you whine, “But, it’s too much, Daddy!”

Yoongi tsks. He smacks your ass with one hand and gropes one of your tits with the other. “No, no, babygirl,” he sighs. Up close, you can see every wet sheen of your arousal all over his face. You can smell yourself off him even inches apart. An involuntarily whine escapes you at the sight. Then a louder one fills the room when Taehyung takes a long, slow lap from your entrance to your clit. They’ve only just started. You’re already ruined.

“Nothing is too much for you, remember?” he asks before pressing his lips to yours. Taehyung goes in for another taste. You whimper. Yoongi spanks. “You took our duties, our jobs. That wasn’t too much for you, was it?”

Shivering against Taehyung’s face, you nod to Yoongi. “It was! It was!” You cry just to get Taehyung out from under there. His tongue is just as warm and wet. However, his approach to savour every bit of you he tastes just might drive you crazy. You’re not even supposed to give in yet, but he’s already going to make you cum a second time.

And he feels it.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums before nodding. “Maybe bending you over might help make sure the message sticks. What do you think, Tae?”

Taehyung’s too consumed with your pussy to look up at either of you. “Once she cums in my mouth too,” he mutters before feasting on you as well.

All it takes is five good jabs of his tongue in you before your legs are giving out and Yoongi has to cradle you to his chest to keep you standing. Kissing your cock bruised neck, Yoongi asks, “She’s delicious, right?”

“Fucking juicy,” Taehyung mumbles between slurps.

Or, at least you think that’s what they’re staying. Cumming twice in a row has you somewhat dizzy. Your ears are full of distortion, voices morphed and distant. Your vision is not any better as your tears only seem to blur it and the rush of ecstasy to your brain fogs your mind. Are you even thinking straight? You don’t think you’d ever know with Taehyung’s tongue still against you. The safe word is on the tip of your tongue but you don’t want to say it. You want them to continue to use you as they please. They’re having so much fun dominating you, playing off each other’s reactions to your body. You cannot end this fun for them, or yourself. This is the best fuck you’ve had since you came into this business and they haven’t even stuffed you with their cocks yet.

Taehyung suddenly emerges beside Yoongi. The effects of both their tongues are so lasting, it seems as though you can still feel their faces between your legs. Yoongi shushes your little mewls as Taehyung cups your cheek. “See what happens when you have too much on your plate?” He questions.

You nod but neither one of them acknowledges it. Instead, they get you into the next position. On your knees, Yoongi stands in front of you and Taehyung behind. You bend forward and spread your legs, looking over your shoulder to find Taehyung admiring the view. The sound of Yoongi’s zipper pulls your attention back to the front. His cock springs out and it’s just as enormous as Taehyung’s. Yoongi looks slightly thicker though.

Mouth watering, you reach forward to wrap your lips around the tip, but Yoongi tugs your head back with a tight grip of your head. “Did you ask?”

When did he get so cold? You pout and his expression somewhat softens but his point still stands. No, you didn’t ask. But, you hope that the exaggerated innocence in your eyes is enough to grant you what you want without the continuous betrayal of your dignity and power. Why must you always ask? That was never planned. In their eyes though, you know it’s what they both want. And Yoongi has no problem showing you that.

Taehyung, about to push into you, hesitates for a second. Upon only hearing the demo you approved on the cassette player and not your needy begs, he growls. Your ass jiggles once more with the force of his spanks. “Too busying being a slut, you forgot your manners?” He asks between spanks.

Yoongi watches your face wince, smirking when he hears you whine. “A good cocksleeve begs to be used,” he adds. “Can’t you do any of your jobs correctly? How long do we need to keep fucking you into your place?”

“As long as it takes until I’m satisfied.”

Both of them freeze. They never agreed to you being this bratty. You’re supposed to be meek and easy to control. Their dominance brings something else out of you, though. It’s almost as if they’re coaxing you into talking back and when have you ever been able to resist them?

Taehyung gropes your ass, pushing the supple flesh up. Your breath hitches. Not being able to see the anger in his eyes is chilling. However, Yoongi’s frozen frame is terrifying. You also cannot read his expression for the life of you. Leaving you in suspense seems to be his method of punishment. Taehyung, though, decides that teasing your asshole is even more torturous.

A breathless gasp escapes you as he spits on your gaping hole. Long fingers swiping through your folds, Taehyung brings your orgasm up to your ass. Staring up at Yoongi, you realize Taehyung’s not teasing you. He’s preparing you. The new conclusion has you spreading your legs even more, inviting him in.

“Satisfied?” Yoongi asks, finally breaking the thick silence between the three of you. His voice drips with sarcasm. Completely unamused, he leans down and shakes his head, “No, babygirl. Satisfaction is not our goal.” He tugs your hair back, your mouth falling open for a gasp. “Discipline is.”

The moment Taehyung begins to push his tip into your asshole, Yoongi shoves his cock down your throat. Having seen the challenging look in your eye, Yoongi does not give you any time to adjust. He snaps his hips up into your mouth, your throat walls burning from the forced stretch of his thick girth. Your tears return but you do not care. Gagging and whining, you show him that you’re fine being used.

Behind you, Taehyung is a bit more considerate… until he realizes there’s little to no resistance around his cock. Your ass adjusts to him a bit slower than usual, but quicker than most others. It’s obvious you’ve been in this position before. You’re not sure if that’s what’s got Taehyung switching the pace of his thrusts or if it’s merely the fact that he thinks you can take a rough fucking, but either way he’s giving you his all. You barely even have to bob your head around Yoongi’s cock now. The force of Taehyung’s body smacking against yours is enough to rock you back and forth.

“That’s right, you incompetent slut!” He shouts behind you like he’s supposed to. “Suck his fucking cock!”

Yoongi chuckles a bit through raspy moans at his business partner’s words. Moving his hands to his hips, he watches your tearfully innocent eyes as you look up at him and choke on his dick. “She’s so pretty like this,” he smirks between grunts.

Taehyung rumbles a deep laugh, his thrusts never missing a beat. “Isn’t she?”

Their compliments should put you off. But, you can’t help the swell of pride in your chest. They think you’re pretty on your knees with a mouthful of CEO dick. You cannot argue against that logic, squealing to show them your agreement.

Everything you do seems to be a source of amusement, even when you’re supposed to be disciplined and punished. You knew they were wrapped around your finger the moment you got up from that chair and walked around your desk. The way they ogled your dress and curves makes you think that they might as well have undressed you there and then. So the fact that they chuckle at your reactions and responses, call you cute, pretty and precious as they fuck both ends, makes you hornier for both of them. You are unable to envision one of them near you without the other around.

Taehyung twitches inside you. It makes you moan and hollow your cheeks around Yoongi’s cock. You don’t care if you’re supposed to be learning some sort of lesson right now. Both of them need to cum inside you, filling up both your holes at the same fucking time. However, while Taehyung is on the verge of releasing any second now, Yoongi seems to need more convincing. He’s into it and reveling in the way your lips wrap around his length, but he needs more than just a sucking to get off, you conclude. If only you can use your hands. You’d play with his balls too and really drive him insane.

Yoongi’s cock pops out of your mouth as Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. Holding you still, he circles his hips against your ass and shoots his warm cum deep in you. Yoongi groans and steps forward. In the midst of your high pitched moans from the erotic sensation, Yoongi grips onto your hair and returns his cock in its place down your throat.

“If you got something to say, slut, say it on my dick like a good babygirl,” he seethes.

He’s unbarred now, not letting his amusement get the best of him anymore. He continues to fuck your mouth while Taehyung nuzzles his face into your back and fills you of his load with the roars of his pleasure. Not too long after that, Yoongi fulfils your goal of having both your holes filled. He has your cheeks puffed with his lust too. Then, he slowly pulls out and orders you to swallow. You’re a professional, knowing when to breath and when to swallow to ensure you get every last drop in your mouth. With every gulp, your throat tightens around his cock. He throws his head back as grunts and curses escape him.

Once you’ve flattened your cheeks and Yoongi is completely out of you, Taehyung shoves you forward and pulls himself out too. His cum follows along. It trails down to your pussy in thick globs. You shudder, pressing your cheek against the wet shag rug. Wait… why is it wet? Looking up you find a puddle of Yoongi’s cum soaked in the rug. Have they both fucked you so hard that you’ve completely lost a hold of yourself? Your cheek is stained by his white cum, but neither one of them seems too concerned by that.

Gasping for air, you try to recollect yourself and stick to the next part. You’re meant to ride one of them now while the other has another go at your ass. But Taehyung suddenly performs the unexpected. He begins to untie your hands. They both have a habit of following directions until they don’t want to. But they’re professionals too so you suppose that they know what they’re doing.

“On your feet,” he orders in a gruff voice. All that moaning seems to have taken a toll on his vocal chords. Your voice is also shot from the dual attack on your throat. Now every moan and whine that leaves you trickles out in a horse croak.

Pushing yourself up, you shakily return to your feet. It’s a bit odd using your hands now after having them bound for so long. You almost feel like they should’ve kept them behind you for the next round. It doesn’t matter much now though since you can’t even summon the words to tell them this. You didn’t cum, but it sure feels like you did. Still clouded and stumbling, you try to regulate your heartbeat. Both men hold onto one of your arms to keep you stable, but that only does so much. Knowing you’re going to fall, you stumble and lean into Taehyung.

He laughs and gropes your tender asscheeks to press you against him. He’s still hard. They both are. Not a lot of men in this business can continue to perform this well in such a short timeframe. But, you suppose that’s what makes them such professionals.

“What do you think, Tae? She learned her lesson yet?” Yoongi asks behind you, pushing your hair aside to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Taehyung hums in thought. He stares into your soul with that cocky sparkle in his eye. His face glistens with sweat, adding a heavenly glow to his unholy features of beauty. You wonder if you still look that good or if they’ve messed you up so hard that you’ve become a total wreck.

As Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, Taehyung swipes the pad of his thumb from under your chin. Shit, have you been drooling or is that just the slobbery remnants of Yoongi’s fuck in your mouth. Taehyung smirks and shoves his thumb into your mouth. You taste Yoongi’s salty cum.

“I think one last round should pound her back in her place,” Taehyung finally replies.

You’re not given a chance to speak as he lifts you up by the grip on your ass. The wrap of your legs around his waist is instant to which he smirks and shifts his jaw. Wait, is he still chewing that piece of gum? Your taste must be entrenched in it based on how he ate you out not too long ago. He’s either genuinely interested in you or just that committed to his role.

Taehyung shifts his grip up to your waist while Yoongi moves his down to your ass. You know what’s coming, but you don’t think you’ll be able to stay as coherent as they’ll want you to be. You shudder a breath then hear their colliding chuckles at your anticipation.

Yoongi kisses your shoulder saying, “Relax, babygirl. Your Daddys are just teaching you how to behave.”

“Be a good girl and next time we’ll take turns,” Taehyung adds.

The idea of doing this all over has your eyes widening. Taehyung huffs a chuckle at your reaction then nudges you back into leaning against Yoongi. “She’s fucking adorable,” he tells him.

Yoongi nods. He kisses your temple then replies, “So cute, it almost makes me want to let her get away with acting like a sluty little brat.”

He tucks his cock between your cheeks, letting his length glide up and down. Taehyung adopts the same technique. His hard length also grinds between your folds, but doesn’t enter. You still mewl and rile your head from side to side. Everything feels so sensitive and raw. Your pussy is quivering and ass shaking from the little bits of friction against your clit and tight hole.

It’s all too much without being enough. The teasing impression of their dicks so close to ruining you but all holes so empty has you groaning out in frustration, “Just fuck me already! Fucking stuff me until I can’t function!”

Taehyung growls, slapping your breasts with one hand. “Where are your fucking manners, you little bitch? You still think you can demand shit from us, huh?”

Yoongi bites on your neck, nibbling on your flesh all while Taehyung scolds you. “Where’s our good girl? Fucking ask politely or you won’t cum at all,” he threatens, voice thick with lust but not at all as aggressive as his business partner.

You let out a loud whine like a child throwing a tantrum. You’ve noticed that they’d usually soften up when you act as meek as this, but they’re just not yielding this time. Pouting, you cave in and desperately beg, “Pretty please use my holes, Daddys. Please, please, please just fucking ruin me. I don’t want to walk without your cum dripping out of me.”

They share a cocky look. One, two, three beats of silence with only that demo playing in the background and they still haven’t made any sort of effort to enter you. It must not have been enough, you think. Parting your lips, you go to beg all over again, so needy to feel full that you don’t care how much of a pathetic whore you sound like.

In unison, they push in you. The collided catastrophe of their moans rattles your bones and warms your blood. Then, there’s the simultaneous stretch of both your holes. Full does not begin to describe how well they don’t fit in you. They’re splitting you open, tearing you apart so beautifully, you can’t even breathe. A loud, long scream escapes you as they bottom out.

You thought Yoongi would slip in so easily with your ass already having been stretched by Taehyung’s monster cock. But, you forgot that Yoongi is slightly thicker meaning he stretches you a bit more. And Taehyung’s cock in your pussy barely even pushes its way through.

“Tightest babygirl, huh?” Taehyung asks over your screams.

Yoongi only hisses in response. His face continues to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. That tongue of his does not take a day off, working around every inch of your skin as they’re joined thrusts begin.

Open for their pleasure, tears of ecstasy pool in your eyes. They start to bounce you back and forth between them. Cock in your ass means one pulling back from your pussy. Left and right, up and down you’re passed between them. Your grip around Yoongi’s head and Taehyung’s shoulder tightens. It doesn’t help you out much since you’re still losing your mind with how good they're pounding you. Taehyung presses his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans as he tastes Yoongi on your tongue. You feel that piece of gum hop around your tongues but Taehyung doesn’t let you take it back.

“We know you’re a good girl,” he mutters against your lips while you pout and nod rapidly. “You’re the bestest little one. But you have to learn where you belong, baby.”

Yoongi pushes the meat of your ass up with one hand while his other massages your tit. “Do you have anything to say to your Daddys?” He questions against your jawline.

You want to answer but Taehyung’s praises and the joined sound of their pleasure has completely stolen your voice. You cannot even summon the words to reply. All that leaves you is squealing cries of bliss. And they’re getting impatient. Enough of that hopping around. They keep you still to ram into you at the same time instead.

“I’m sorry!” You cry, voice breaking from the pleasure. “I’m sorry for- Ahh Daddys, Daddys please!”

Your vision keeps blanking, flashing blurry images of Taehyung and Yoongi. They’re not too bothered by that though. It’s that broken sentence you didn’t finish that’s consumed their attention.

“For what?” Taehyung growls. His grip is becoming deadly.

Another meek squeal of a moan leaves you as you force yourself to answer, “For not doing my job. Ah-ha, I’m so fucking close!”

Yoongi purrs praises of encouragement in your ear. But Taehyung wants more out of you. The three of you know that’s not all you should be sorry for. Though, just as you’re squeezing around them and losing control over your entire body, so are they. Their thrusts don’t match anymore even if they are still fast and rough. Each man has taken a different consistency of destroying your holes until they can only accept their cocks.

Breasts bouncing, skin slapping, holes clenching, you screech the loudest, earaching whine and cum. Taehyung sighs, his load not too far behind. You do not register it at first. Your eyes have rolled back your head, and your body convulses so hard that you almost slip from their combined grip. That extra force down on Yoongi’s cock also has him filling your hole up to the brim.

In, in, in. They continue to go in and imprint themselves within you. Your legs around Taehyung are starting to slip and in the midst of his own orgasm, he’s having a hard time concentrating on keeping you up. One of your legs fall and this new angle knocks the life out of you. You gasp, eyes shut, and lose the ability to speak entirely.

It’s a complete blur from there. Holes leak, cocks soften. However, their thrusts are still persisting, as if they’re not ready to let go of you yet. At one point, they both shove their tongues in your mouth at the same time and kiss the life back in you. Your eyes flutter open but vision does not fully return. You think they’re out of you. Their cum leaks out, or you think it does. You think you can feel it trickling down your legs.

Back in your dress, they’ve somehow clothed you again. It is now you register the fact that they’ve degraded you so much to the point that they remained dressed while you were stark naked, your white boots and pink thong the only items of concealment you were offered. It makes you crave them all over again, even when you know you can’t take them so soon.

They sit you down back in your seat behind your desk. After tucking themselves back in, Yoongi fixes his shirt and belt. Taehyung puts his tie back on and sweeps his hair back from the sides with both hands.

Smiling, Yoongi puts his yellow shades on and asks, “All is forgiven, babygirl… This time anyway.”

Taehyung rolls his sleeves as Yoongi speaks, then takes out a cigarette. He lights it, takes a puff then bumps his fist against Yoongi’s. Smoke out, he smirks, “And that’s the boogie business.”

“Annnnnnnd cut!”

The lights of the studio come alive all at once. Out of the eighties and back into the twenty-first century, all three of you return. The two men in front of you fall to their knees the moment cameras are off. You fall forward, folding your arms on your desk and resting your head on them. You know you’re a total mess. Nothing went according to the script and you hope they don’t make you all redo this after a touch up to your hair and make up.

The director claps, stepping onto the set. “Well done,” he beams before turning around. “That’s a wrap for Boogie Business.”

Sitting back up, you catch both Yoongi and Taehyung already staring at you. The video is done but they still have that look of absolute sin in their eyes. You furrow your brows as someone offers you a towel and a bottle of water. Set designers are already working on tearing the little retro office apart. The crew is packing up their equipment. And still, these two pornstars look ready to devour you all over again even in their exhausted state.

This is usually the time when you stop pretending to have been worn up and stand up like nothing happened. You’d go to your seat near the hair and makeup section and get your face all clean from whatever sexual endeavours you’ve agreed to. Only this time, none of your performance was exaggerated. You truly came all those times and apologized for something you didn’t really do. Honestly, you enjoyed your time with both of them. They’ve very big in the porn industry, their reputations of owning a scene really rings true. So you are honoured to have worked with them.

You raise a brow, wiping your mouth and face. Every part of you wants to get up. You’ve done your job and done it well. But, you’re half conscious and completely aching all over. They did exactly as you asked. They ruined you.

“Good job, boys,” you smile after a few gulps of water.

A crew member offers each of them a bottle of water and towel too. They raise to their feet and clean themselves up. Taehyung approaches the prop desk first, tossing his towel and water on the surface like he really is a CEO of a record company. “You really came,” he mutters, sounding surprised. “Three fucking times? Is that what you also do?”

You don’t think too much of his shocked tone. Being a pornstar is a job after all and finishing is not always a guarantee. You smirk as Yoongi approaches the desk as well with the same impressed look. “Mhm,” you hum innocently. Their eyes light up. “And you both did too. It happens sometimes. I don’t see the issue.”

Tossing a glance at each other, both men share a look. You freeze. It’s identical to the ones they’ve been giving each other the entire time while filming. Were they…Were they serious? Is that why they delved off the book so many times? They really wanted to fuck you. You’re not one to complain or judge since you really wanted it too, but you expected all this to be an act.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Yoongi asks.

You bite your lip. Looking between them, you feel rejuvenated with horny energy all over again. “No,” you smile.

Taehyung nods. “You do now. Meet us at my trailer in twenty.” He smiles at Yoongi before looking back at you. “There’s still a couple of things we’d like to try.”

You have a rule against getting involved with coworkers. But, clearly, these two men seem to be something more. You couldn’t resist them before and you sure as hell can't resist them now. Sitting back in your seat, you cross your cum slick legs and nod. “Yes, Daddys,” you chime in your most delicate voice.

Their eyes darken.

With a lasting smirk and innocent giggle you add, “Anything you want.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritersclub #btswritingcafe #vantenet #houseofddaeng #btsgoldnet #winterbearnet #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #min yoongi smut #kim taehyung smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #bts poly au #bts smut

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samadiw · 3 years

Text

Knickers - Part 05 - We need to talk 🤐

D : "You smell good."

Hermione jumps

H : "Shit, you scared me, Malfoy."

Draco smirks and leans in closer.

D : "Didn't you ask me to meet you here?"

Hermione nods nervously.

H : "I did...."

She eyes him in his all black ensemble.

Merlin, he looked sexy as fuck.

H : "Umm, why aren't you in uniform?

Draco smiles fondly.

D : "My mother asked to see me, she misses me."

Hermione's heart melted.

H : "Oh, is she okay?"

D : "Yes, she's doing quite well, thank you."

Draco trails Hermione's bottom lip with his thumb.

D : "Its been hours since we kissed."

Hermione leans into his touch, her lips part and she whispers.

H : "Yes, I think it's time you refresh my memory, Malfoy."

Their lips touch and Draco deepens the embrace oblivious to their surroundings.

The sound of books falling to the ground interrupts them, they break apart and turn to the source.

A frightened 1st year stares at them.

Draco narrows his eyes menacingly.

D : "Move along, repeat what you saw to no one."

The terrified boy nods vigorously

Hermione rolls her eyes.

H : "Must you scare them."

Draco puts his hands in his pockets and raises a brow.

D : "Must we hide?"

Hermione looks at the blonde intently.

H : "I thought we agreed to keep our encounters secret."

Draco grins mischievously.

D : "Yeah, it does add to the fun, doesn't it?"

He closes the gap between them and traps her with his body.

D : "Meeting up randomly and snogging in forbidden places."

His fingers travel up her thigh and disappear under her skirt.

Hermione gasps but let's Draco do as he pleases.

Draco drawls seductively.

D : "Makes you feel dirty and adventurous, doesn't it?"

He presses flush against her.

D : "You get off thinking about me, Granger?"

Almost every night, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

Hermione rolls her eyes.

H : "Oh please, I have better things to do than masturbate every single night.

His long practiced fingers push aside the cotton underwear that covers her sex and strokes her inner folds.

Hermione whimpers and throws her head back in pleasure.

Draco grins in satisfaction

D : "Plenty wet now."

Laughter from the next aisle brings Hermione crashing back to her senses, she steps away from Draco and warns.

H : "Stop, there's alot of people around."

Draco chuckles.

D : "Why did you want to meet in the library, Granger? Is there a fantasy you've suppressed and want to bring to life?

Hermione averts her gaze and blushes.

H : "I, umm, have something to discuss with you."

Draco eyes the nervous Gryffindor.

D : "Go on, I'm listening."

Hermione's cheeks redden further and she stares at her feet.

H : "So, umm, Valentine's day is coming up and...."

Draco brings his hand up and interrupts.

D : "I'm going to stop you right there, I don't believe in fucking Valentine's day."

D : "It's a money making bloody ridiculous day."

Hermione's face falls in disappointment but she hides it well.

H : "Oh, I see, then this conversation is quite pointless."

Draco frowns.

D : "Granger, finish what you started to say."

Hermione grabs a large book and holds it tightly to her chest, she averts her eyes again and mumbles.

H : "Umm, no...I have to go."

Draco watches in confusion as Hermione hurries away from him.

Over the next few days Hermione ignored Draco and his advances.

She gave him various bullshit excuses.

What he did however see was Michael Corner (The sodding Head boy and shite Quidditch player.) Chatting up the witch he had been secretly snogging.

In frustration Draco walks towards The Great Hall and sees a bunch of people crowding around a bright red poster.

He walks upto Blaise and Theo

D : "What's going on?"

Theo grins excitedly.

T : "Valentine's day party."

Draco frowns and leers

D : "You can't be fucking serious."

Theo rolls his eyes and retorts sarcastically.

T : "Yes, yes, we are well aware of your crazy feelings about the day."

He smacks his forehead.

T : "Fuck, I've got to ask Luna."

Blaise nods in agreement.

B : "Good idea, mate, I'm going to ask Patil before some other fucker does."

Theo raises a brow and quips.

T : "Will you be joining the festivities with your mystery witch or are you going to drown your quacker ideologies in a bottle of firewhiskey?"

Draco sneers.

D : "First of all, theres no bloody mystery woman and second, well, yeah...maybe I'll ask someone."

It dawns on him.

Fuck, was this what Granger wanted to talk to him about before he rudely interrupted her?

Malfoy, you fucking donkey.

He had to find her

Draco looked around wildly, Granger was nowhere in sight.

D : "I have to go."

Theo asks suspiciously.

T : "Where?"

Draco glares sternly.

D : "None of your bloody business."

Theo chokes back a sob mockingly.

T : "It's like we dont know you anymore."

Draco rolls his eyes

D : "Stop acting like a possessive girlfriend, Theo."

Theo pouts and sticks his tongue out.

T : "You used to tell me everything."

Blaise rolls his eyes

B : "Stop your moaning."

Draco turns to sprint down the corridor to find Hermione but bumps into Corner instead.

D : "Watch where you're going, you insufferable git."

M : "Mind your attitude, Malfoy."

Hermione steps out from behind Michael and bends to pick the books she dropped.

M : "Are you okay, Hermione?"

Her eyes dart from the poster to Draco

H : "Yes, I'm fine."

Draco rounds on Hermione and asks desperately.

D : "Granger, can I speak to you?"

He throws a look of disgust at Michael and demands.

D : "In private."

Hermione puts her books in her bag and shakes her head.

H : "Sorry, I'll be late for class, let's catch up later."

Did she just disregard him like he was some unworthy piece of shit?

Hermione disappears into the Hall and Michael high fives Terry Boot.

Boot asks at once.

TB : "Did you ask Granger to the party?"

Michael frowns and shakes his head.

M : "I didnt get the chance, she's always got something going on."

M : "What I wouldn't give to tap that."

Draco heard word for word, he balls his hands into fists and controlls his raging temper.

Terry laughs.

TB : "You better get a move on then."

Michael nods enthusiastically.

M : "Yeah, I'm going to do it now and get it over with."

Draco almost drops his books and bag.

What the fuck?

What was this weird feeling of icy cold doom he felt in the pit of his stomach?

It slowly turned to blinding rage and he tried to tame it.

What he wanted to do was grab Corner by his robes and beat the mediocre wizard into a bloody mess.

Draco doubles over and fights the bile that rises.

Blaise eyes his best friend in concern.

B : "Er, you okay, mate?"

Theo frowns.

T : "Fuck, is he going to be sick?"

Blaise quips.

B : "Chill, hes feeling several emotions at once."

Theo raises a brow in question

T : "What?"

Blaise starts to count.

B : "1, 2, 3...."

It hits Draco like a ton of bricks.

He fucking liked Granger...alot.

Hook ups and random kissing aside, he wanted more.

Shite...

Draco straightens with renewed purpose.

D : "I need to go."

Blaise smirks and nods.

B : "Yeah, you do that, mate."

Draco rushes into The Great Hall

Theo stares after Draco's distraught figure.

T : "What the fuck is going on?"

Blaise lazily points to the Hall.

B : "Let's go watch, shall we?"

Michael reaches the Gryffindor table first and taps Hermione on the shoulder.

Everything happens so fast.

Draco runs at breakneck speed and tackles the unsuspecting Ravenclaw, they go crashing to the ground.

Everyone around them gets to their feet and stares at the struggling men on the floor.

Theo takes a step forward but Blaise holds him back.

B : "Let Draco handle this."

Michael groans and rubs his bruised side.

M : "What the fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?"

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest and asks impatiently.

H : "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Both men get to their feet and try to adjust their tangled school robes.

Michael opens his mouth to speak, but Draco waves his wand effortlessly and places a silencio charm over the Head boy

Corner glares sternly and makes obscene hand gestures.

Draco clears his throat quickly and blurts out.

D : "Granger, will you go with me to this stupid Valentine's thing?"

Hermione blushes and grins triumphantly.

H : "People are staring at you."

D : "Fucking let them, I don't care, go with me?"

H : "I'll think about it."

Michael grins smugly.

Draco is indignant.

D : "Really? Are you fucking serious?"

Hermione steps closer and kisses Draco lightly on the lips.

H : "Of course, I'll go with you."

Theres pin drop silence, the entire body of students and teachers were staring at them with their mouths hanging open and eyes wide, except Slughorn.

He continued to eat his breakfast.

PS : "Minvera, my dear, I believe, you owe me hundred Galleons, did I not tell you the unlikely duo were a couple of sorts?"

McGonagall stares at Draco and Hermione in shock.

PM : "You did indeed, I just never believed it."

Draco smiles fondly.

D : "Marvellous, see you in potions, Granger."

Michael stares at the scene before him dumbfounded.

Draco mutters the counter spell.

D : "Oh sorry, Corner."

Draco slides in next to Theo at the Slytherin table.

His housemates gossip around him.

Theo continues to stare at his best friend and asks in disbelief.

T : "Granger?"

Its Blaise who answers.

B : "Yes, Granger, you need to learn to be more observant, Nott."

T : "Hermione Granger?"

Draco bites into a piece of buttered toast and grins.

D : "She's brilliant, mate."

The second Hermione sits down, Ron expresses his rather colourful feelings.

R : "Malfoy??"

Ginny snorts into her pumpkin juice.

G : "You are incredibly thick, Ron."

Harry laughs.

Ha : "I knew you were doing something, but I didn't think it was Malfoy."

Hermione blushes.

H : "No, umm, we haven't."

Ron looks at them in disgust.

R : "She kissed the snake."

Hermione smirks smugly

H : "I've been kissing him for weeks."

Ron looks like he's about to vomit.

R : "That's disgusting, you know that's Malfoy, right?"

Hermione rolls her eyes exasperatedly.

H : "Yes, I know, now drop it."

She looks around and scolds

H : "And that goes for the lot of you."

Ron bites into a sausage savagely.

R : "The world is going bloody bonkers."

#dramione #draco and hermione #draco x hermione #hermione granger #draco lucius malfoy #dramionefandom #dramionefanart #dramione smut #dramione fanfic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

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