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starillusion13 · 1 month

Text

Keep Talking to me

Pairing: bf! (Mark and Jeno) x gf! reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Smut

Warning: friend ditching you, insecurity of weight, comforting talking, use of sex toys, dom and sub dynamic, manhandling, oral(f. and m. rec.), face sitting, fingering, spanking, hair pulling, chocking, edging, orgasm denial, nipple and breast play, hickeys, marking, gentle and rough, double penetration, sex w/o protection(don't do it sillies), lots of kissing, pregnancy talk, aftercare. Full of love💕

W.C: 7.1k Network: @k-vanity

[ THIS FIC IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. It's only here because this @renjunnnaaa (my best friend) made my brain go crazy with this imagination after TDS3 pics clips n videos, and I am going insane over this. And well, these two are my biases. I would love if you all don't look at my husbands.]

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE POST🔞

🎀🫦🎀🚬🎀

This is not how your night was supposed to be. Come on, your friend can't ditch you for her new friends, Right? But she did. She really faked an excuse to make you feel dumb in front of everyone and went to have her fun with the new shitheads.

"I should have stayed back home." You mumbled to yourself before getting inside the cab. You were furious and broken at the same time. No No, you can't just let her make you feel this way. She is no one to break you down. You were reminding yourself with this thought and staring blankly at the passing street and street lights which seems a bit dazed like your brain. Oh, no you are crying. Bringing your leather jacket sleeves to your cheeks, it harshly wiped off the stream of tears on your soft skin. The leather surely did make your skin turn red and you didn't care about the eyeliner to get smudged in the corner.

You cared less about everything else because you just wanted to go back home and stay in your room.

Your boyfriends might be having a boys night together at Haechan's house and it would be so rude to call them and let them know about this. Surely, they would come running back home to comfort you. No, you should let them have their own share of fun. Closing your eyes and resting your head back against the seat, you waited for your place to arrive.

Thanking the driver and entering the gate, you noticed the lights turned on and someone's laugh coming from inside the house. Wait, that's Mark. With quick steps, you ran towards the door and pressed the bell. Surprisingly, Mark was quick enough to open the door and he pulled you towards him, wrapping one arm around you and kissed the side of your head, "Hi, baby."

He didn't look at your face for long enough to notice your distress but you kept a smiling face to get his warmth and he was still laughing at something. Weren't they supposed to leave for their night out? Following him towards the living room, you found Jeno standing there, his back towards you and he was fixing something, maybe his shirt or else. Looking at your side, you then noticed Mark and him, both were wearing shining leather jackets. Are they supposed to leave now?

"Dude, our baby is here. Turn around." Mark kept a hand around you, pulling you close enough and when he finally noticed your face, Jeno also noticed your fake smile at the same time.

But you were not looking at either of them because your gaze was fixed on Jeno. his bare body underneath the thick jacket and the way his skin was peeking from under it, with every long step he took towards you. He smirked when he followed your gaze. You noticed a tight black material under the jacket, only hiding his chest but his abs making you drool over it even when you were supposed to be sad because of the earlier incident.

Even if he was enjoying your gaze on him, feeling satisfied with the way you were not even trying to hide your attraction towards him yet he had a concern etching his face. Why are you looking so down? Your eyeliner smudged in the corner of your face and how you were biting your lips, he was not sure if it was because of your usual nervousness or you were losing control over him. Even if he had some plans in his mind, first he had to know about your concerns. Everything else can come later, first it's all about you.

Mark beside you, still holding you close to himself, was confused with your look. It was not the same when you went out. You were so excited and smiling brightly and to be honest, he was so jealous of what made you smile so much other than him. Oh well, at least you are happy. That's all he wants for you.

Jeno patted your head before his palms resting on your cheek, "you are back early, love." you nodded and looked to your other side to avoid their eyes. They surely can read you easily. "Why?" his gaze was boring on your side profile, Mark tugged your hair back behind your ears.

"Well, she had other plans after our meeting." he nodded, but not fully convinced by your explanation. Your usual demeanor after returning home usually seems something else and the way your voice sounds like betraying you was not setting in place. "Aren't you supposed to go to Haechan's place?" you asked him and glanced at Mark. Both of them nodded.

Mark placed a kiss on your cheek, "suddenly his girlfriend surprised him today and now he has some other plan for the night. Boy will have his own fun." he laughed afterwards.

Jeno slid his hand down from your cheek to your jaw and gently grabbed it, bringing his face closer to yours and placing a soft kiss on your lips, staying there a bit for too long to feel your breath changing the rhythm. Mark's hand rubbing your side and other hand playing with your fingers. You closed your eyes when you felt Jeno whispering on your lips, "tell me what happened, sweetheart."

That's exactly the only push you need to confess to them. Their touch, their voice, their warmth and their eyes on you. Yes. you would do anything, say anything and comply with them on anything.

"I waited at the park for one hour." he hummed against your lips, hearing your soothing voice was relaxing to him. He asked again, "and?" a tear slipped from your eyes, Mark wiped it off. "She never did. And then I saw an IG live from one of her friends. They are partying somewhere else."

"Is my baby hurt?" Mark softly asked you and you nodded, looking at him innocently. Jeno stood back straight and shared a knowing glance with the other boy. "So what will you do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe sleep." Mark took off his hand from around you and brushed back his hair. You took a full look of his outfit. Same tight jeans as Jeno, hugging their legs deliciously perfectly but he had a black t-shirt hiding his skin unlike Jeno. "What about you two?" you love it when they almost dress up like twins.

You stared at them and Jeno suddenly smirked, resting his hands on his hip, "we have a plan tonight."

"oh...good." You looked at Mark who smirked as well, you knitted your brows together and a confused look visible on your face, earning chuckles, "what happened? Why are you both laughing? With whom do you have plans?"

"So many questions we have. Right?" Jeno darkly chuckled and brushed his fingers over your cheeks, tracing the outline of your face, "we have plans with you."

"with me?" you don't remember anything about it.

He nodded and you felt Mark hugging you from back, resting his chin on your shoulder and his nose brushing your neck and ear, his breath rising goosebumps on your skin. Jeno pulled your face up by your chin and your soft gaze met his dark ones. His eyes scanned your face for any hesitation but there was none, so he leaned forward, "lift your leg up."

"what?" you were confused not until Mark whispered into your ears, "do it right, baby." he took off your jacket in the way.

You complied, bending your knees and lifting your leg, Jeno quickly held it and wrapped it around him, "Jump." You did. Mark pressing himself behind you and your legs now wrapped around Jeno's waist. Mark's mouth not leaving a single inch of your skin, licking your earlobe down to your neck, inhaling the perfume, "you smell so sweet, baby." Kissing and nibbling on your skin. your body shook in their hold when Jeno squeezed your chest above your top.

"Tell me how you are feeling." Jeno was not asking you nor telling you to say it, he was ordering you. His tone was quite demanding that he was not playing with any emotions rather totally concentrating on every thought going across your mind. Your breathing heaved with their every little touch and the skin was burning under their touch. The way soft sounds escaping your throat, vibrating against Mark's mouth, he hummed in response.

You couldn't think of anything at the moment, only focusing on their touch and finding a comfortable position to grind against one of them. "if you don't start speaking. We are going to stop here." Jeno said and attached his lips with your throat, sucking a deep red mark, earning a moan out from you. Both groaned when you grind your hip in the weird position, but to release the tension building up in you was to be eased.

Mark grabbed your hip and warned, "stay still. Keep talking and let us do everything."

You still didn't say anything when Jeno grabbed your chin rather harshly and brought your face near to his, "don't let me lose my patience, love. Use all your words to start speaking."

You nodded, "I..mhm..am just upset." Jeno's hand brushed your thighs before his hands disappeared under your skirt. He folded a bit of your high rise socks and again his hands sliding up and down your back of the thigh, "why?"

"s-she didn't even tell me about it." Your head fell back on Mark's shoulder and you clutched Jeno's jacket when he again sucked a hickey near your collarbone. He had undone only three buttons from your shirt, rest keeping as it is. "And, do you want to feel good?"

"yes." Honestly, you want to forget about everything from the evening and just want to spend time with them. And, of course they would always be too happy to fulfill your requests as why not. If they could, they would have kept you between them forever. Oh, you are a treasured one for them.

Jeno tapped Mark's shoulder whose mouth quickly left your skin and he nodded when the younger boy motioned towards the shared bedroom. Mark led the way while Jeno placed your head on his shoulder and rubbed your back, " you just have to tell us everything, okay? You trust us, right?"

"hm..." your arms and legs wrapped around him and his strong cologne hitting your nose, pulling you towards him more. You were quite surprised with his strength. He was holding you up for quite a while now and still, he didn't get tired. It's not like you are those skinny girls who can have those barbie moments from fictions but at least he should put you down now, his hands might get strain.

He followed behind Mark, kissing your earlobe and kissing the exposed shoulder, your shirt sliding down your shoulder. He placed you on the edge of the bed, kissing your lips before standing straight to look behind you. You turned your neck, noticing Mark pulling off his jacket, revealing his black undershirt and you gulped, knowing what's coming.

A hand caressing your head made you look up at Jeno, "you just have to trust us. Okay?"

You nodded as he grabbed your hairs and yanked your head back, you groaned at the pull, "words, love. What we said earlier? You will keep talking and we will do everything."

"Yes, Jeno." You blurted and he smiled, even if the smile was so cute but he pushed you back and left you balancing yourself on your elbows.

Mark's voice echoed inside the room, "come here." And you know better, you shouldn't waste your time and wait for them to lose their patience, you crawled towards him, Jeno's eyes fixed at your wiggling ass and Mark was looking at your chest peeking from the end of the shirt. They both groaned at the sight.

Mark patted his thigh and you quickly placed yourself, your legs on either side of his and your covered core in contact with the harsh material of the jeans. He took a hold of your hands and brought to his lips, kissing them softly and smiling at you. "Always pretty. So, how should we start?"

"Please fuck me, Mark." He chuckled hearing your response and Jeno shook his head before going towards a particular drawer. When you tried to look that way, Mark held your chin and faced him, "I'm here talking with you. Your pussy is almost touching me and still you are looking somewhere else."

You shook your head, "No no I am your girl. I'm yours, please fuck me."

"Aren't we already going to the end?" He curled the locks between his fingers and smirked, "we have so much for the night."

With that he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, pressing his lips onto you a bit too long and then moving it in a different rhythm to yours. His other hand unbuttoning your shirt and your hands placed on his chest curled up. You love the way he takes his whole time to kiss you, to make you feel every passing second when his lips are on you.

Soon, his lips moved with your flow, hands massaging your chest and your hands snaked around him to pull him more close when you felt him pulling apart. Teeth clashing with each other and tongues exploring each other inside but soon he felt your hips grinding against his thigh, he held your hips tightly to restrict your movements but not fully, still letting you to move a bit.

"Please..." you whimpered, trying to get more friction and chuckled, pulling his mouth away from yours, pressing a little kiss on your nose. Guiding your hips to move to his liking but it was not enough for you.

"You look so pretty when you beg like this. So desperate for me. My baby." He pecked your lips, and lifted you up when he felt your body was shaking. He chuckled, "You are trying your best to get yourself off with that little movement? So pathetic you are, baby."

"She is and that's why her friend took her advantage." Jeno spoke from the end of the bed but you quickly protested, still annoyed that Mark didn't let you come before on his thigh. "I will talk to her about this tomorrow."

Mark grabbed your cheek and simply stated with a stern voice, "NO. You are not speaking to her anymore."

" but-"

"I don't want to hear it. Now turn around for me." You did and he placed you between his legs, pulling you closer and your back against his chest. He patted your thigh and gently pushed them to either side, pulling them under his legs to cage you there.

Jeno climbed up the bed and rested between your legs, placing his hand over your thighs, "who loves you the most?" He stared at your eyes.

"You. Both of you."

He hummed again, "who cares for you?"

"You both."

He cupped your face, placing a soft kiss on your lips. He was doing it on purpose to make you crave for kisses more. The drools from the shared kiss with Mak earlier were still around your lips but he could care less about it. "And did we ever make you cry like her?"

You shook your head, "no."

"So we win this. Now it's clear that you should only listen to us. She is clearly jealous of you, love. You are perfect and nobody should dare to make you cry." He kissed your temple before retreating himself.

Your eyes were still looking at the black leather material with belt design inside his jacket and your curiosity did get noticed by him when he chuckled, "if you want to see it. Come, remove my jacket."

From somewhere you got the enthusiasm, you quickly pulled yourself up from Mark's chest and leaned forward to tug his jacket and he helped you to get it off from his body. "This is so cool. I like it so much."

He threw the jacket to the side of the bed and nodded, "I like this kinda vest too but earlier when you came, Mark was laughing at this."

Mark protested from behind, "woah dude. The way you were fixing it, I was just telling you that it looked like you were fixing your bra."

Jeno glared at him but both of them heard your giggle and it's the first time you smiled today's night, "I see you are enjoying this, y/n...that means we are your best boyfriends."

You nodded and Mark kissed your neck, shoulder blade and left deep red marks over your shoulder, pulling down the shirt more to expose you. "Yes but I'm feeling offended as you both might laugh at me when I fix my bra. Right?"

"No, love. It's about your comfort and also, I don't understand why you have to wear that around us as we could then see your tits and them bouncing perfectly." Jeno stated and laughed when you slapped his biceps. His muscles were more prominent and tight than the last two months, probably hitting the gym more.

When you were about to slap him again, Mark held your hands back. You were already spread in front of the man kneeling before you. "Now stay like this for Jeno, baby." He whispered with his deep voice.

Jeno took something from beside him and when he turned it on and turned towards your side, your body shivered with excitement. It was his favorite rose vibrator and you knew better than what was in for the night.

Mark pulled your skirt and rubbed his hand above your clothed core, groaning in your ear when he felt the wet patch, "ah baby. So wet for us. Just with our touch you might come. So filthy."

When you didn't reply and closed your eyes, leaning your head back to enjoy the sensation, he whispered seductively, "keep talking, baby. Or you are not getting anything."

"Yes yes. I'm so wet for you. So filthy just for you both. Only for both of you." Hearing you, he pressed his palms over your core and stayed there with the pressure. Both of their hungry eyes watching your every twist of expression and your legs shaking. "Please, do something."

After rubbing a few circles over your core, Mark pulled your panties aside and the cold air of the conditioner hit the bare core, making your body shiver. Jeno spreaded your arousal across your folds and groaned with the sight. You suddenly gasped when he brought the vibrator to your core, the setting was low and his satisfaction was high. Mark squeezed your chest, "do you like it?"

"Yes." a moan followed your reply. Even when the setting turned to a set high, you were not getting what you wanted. Your legs shaking under his tight hold, when you managed to free a hand and tried to bring the vibrator close, Jeno grabbed it quickly and glared, "take what I'm giving you and use your words, not your hands." He squeezed your hand above Mark's thigh.

The toy felt like him teasing your core with kitten licks. A frustrated groan and whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away the vibrator, denying your orgasm. That was not for once, he was repeating the action every time he felt you clenching around the toy. Both of them were reading your expressions like a straight A student as if they could just draw your every expression a second later. "Yes, baby. You are doing so good for us." Mark whispered and again, Jeno pulled away the vibrator.

"Please.." tears falling down your eyes, "Please...more...I can't." your pleadings only earned chuckles from Jeno and a laugh from Mark into your ears. Mark wrapped a hand around your throat to put pressure on the sides.

He mocked your expression, "you can't? But baby..." Jeno completely pulled it away and turned it off and when you tried to lift your hip, Mark slapped your pussy making you cry out, "don't be a bad girl now."

Jeno laid down beside you two and you looked at him confused. Mark relieved you from his hold and you turned to your side to take a better look at them. They noticed your tear stained face, flushed cheeks and beautiful red marks on your exposed skin. Your pussy was barely hiding under the skirt because of your disheveled condition. The way Jeno was laying down and his bare upper body with those tight belt material across his chest, resting perfectly against his chest was pulling you towards him. You would jump on him anytime but you knew that you didn't have any choice to do anything today without their permission. Anyways, they would really love to see your wild side though.

"Come here." The laying man called out for you but you rested yourself on your palm and confusedly stared at him. He rolled his eyes and extended his hand towards you and you grabbed it, still unsure of exactly what he wanted. "Sit on my face." he said and your eyes went wide.

"W-what? No. I can't."

Mark brushed your hair before taking a fist at it and yanked back, "did he ask you?" he pecked your lips, "go for it, baby."

When Jeno pulled you towards him, stumbling just beside his chest, tapping your thigh to sit on his chest, you shook your head again, "no. Jeno, please."

"Y/n, what are you requesting?" His tone was harsh and the way he was staring at you darkly was a dangerous look but still he waited to listen to your hesitation. If you were uncomfortable then he would appreciate you and wouldn't force you to do it. This was a new thing he wanted to try and when he, both of them noticed the fear in your eyes, they shared a look.

"I can't." he squeezed your hand and Mark stroked your back, "why you can't?"

You looked down at your lap, "I am heavy..." you whispered and only if you did notice the disbelief look on the face of the man laying down. He scoffed, "and do you think I care?"

"Do you think your weight matters to us?" he kissed the back of your palm, "you are perfect, y/n. No one compares to you."

"Yes, baby. You are our perfect girl." pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "go, listen to him."

Jeno guided you slowly to sit on his chest and the moment you did, your fingers started admiring the material on his chest, the silver parts brushing against your hot skin. His hands moving up and down your thighs, rolling down your high rise socks. "Do you like it that much?"

You nodded, "this is looking so good on you." you met his eyes and smiled, "looking like mine."

"Is my y/n flirting with me?" he raised a brow and you giggled. Mark patted your thigh, "let's take this off, sweety." he indicated under your skirt. You nodded and Jeno guided you on your knees and Mark helped you to take your panties off, still keeping your skirt on and your shirt almost falling off your body. As soon as your bare heat came in contact with his belted chest, you let out a moan and clutched his shoulder, your body leaning forwards.

"Come on, I'm starving." he pulled you towards his face but he felt you grinding on his chest and chuckled, "y/n, stay still." he spanked your bare ass and you yelped in sudden hit. Jolting forwards, he easily guided you to sit on his face and you sank down. His nose on your clit and his lips mounding over your core.

"Oh my god." you clutched the headboard tightly and on the other hand grabbing Mark's hand. "Ah..this feels so good." your breath labored and even if you wanted to grind your hip, Jeno gripped it tightly, surely leaving red marks over your skin. He sucked on your clit and you threw your head back with a loud moan. His groans vibrated against your heat, making your coils tighten inside your stomach, he lifted you up a bit and you whined for the loss of contact, "you taste so sweet." he kissed and bit your inner thighs, your body shaking under their hold.

Mark was smirking at the view in front of him. How your body was shaking and squirming and your tears falling down, he moved towards your face and kissed your cheeks. Your innocent eyes met his dark gaze and he crushed his lips with yours, directly moving his tongue inside when you cried out again as Jeno's tongue started torturing your clit. Sucking and lapping onto your heat like a starved animal. "Stay still." his muffled order with a groan from beneath you made your head shake against Mark, "listen to him, baby."

"I can't please. Make me cum. Please."

"You will, baby." he kissed your shoulder and slid down your shirt completely from your body, leaving you in your bra and skirt. He bit his lips at the sight and left your hand to get off the bed. You pleaded towards the other boy, "please Jeno."

As he felt you clutching and your arousal dripping on his tongue. He stopped eating you out and made you stay still. You whimpered and sobbed, "why why?"

"What? You thought I would let you come so easily? Not yet, love." he smirked. He spanked your ass again when he felt your attempt to move your hips against him. You both heard shuffling sound from your side and noticed Mark taking off his shirt and your eyes instantly trailed over his body and he amusedly watched you checking him out. "I know what you want, baby"

Jeno spanked you again and you quickly turned towards him, "did I say to watch him?" you shook your head and quickly added a faint, "no." he smiled and guided you to sit on his face again, latching his mouth to your heat, devouring and groaning and your moan echoing inside the room. Standing beside you both, Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and turned your face towards him, "won't you help me, baby?"

"yes...angh...I will."

"Good girl." he held your shoulder to hold you straight and your hands busily and messily tugged at his button to open it and pulled his pants down. Your hands and legs started shaking and Jeno's big nose bumping on your clit made you go insane when he suddenly stopped and you whined. Mark pulled his pants and boxer down to free his member and took it in his hand and rubbed it with his own arousal, groaning while his head fell backwards.

"why? " You whined and pouted while looking down at Jeno. you didn't know for how many more times he was going to deny your orgasm but before you could complain anymore, Mark grabbed your neck and guided you towards his length, "Now stop complaining. Be a good girl and suck on it like the way Jeno is making you feel good."

Shoving his length inside your warm mouth, he let out a guttural groan and tears brimmed in your eyes. He pulled out a bit when you licked the tip and swallowed the length, hollowing your cheek and resting it on your tongue, teeth grazing over his red girth. He put a pressure on your neck, pushing himself more into your mouth and soon you felt Jeno's mouth abusing your leaking clit, squeezing your shut and you felt your body shaking. Your one hand supporting your body and the other one taking a hold of Mark's member while he was abusing your mouth.

You choked on his length when he shoved himself more inside of you and started thrusting his hip with a tight grip on your neck. Tears streaming down and body jolted when he yanks your head back, letting you breathe. You gasped for air and panting, "please...please...I'm near."

He scanned your face, biting his lip and groaning at your messed up face, "what you say, Jeno?"

Jeno muttered while his tongue fucking into you fast, "what?"

"Should we let her cum?"

You pleaded, "please."

Jeno groaned and sucked hard, making your stomach do turn and twist, "I don't know. Should we?"

"Yes...please." you mentally prayed because earlier you have already been denied so many orgasms and you don't know how to hold it anymore. Jeno again said, "First make him cum in your mouth and then only you can cum. Okay?"

Your teary eyes begged again, "please, mark. Please, cum for me."

Mark clicked his tongue, "be a good girl for me."

He again shoved himself into your mouth and started fucking you relentlessly like Jeno fucking your cunt. Your moans getting lost on his length and the way he gripped tighter on your neck, you were sure he was near and so was you but you knew you couldn't come until he did. Soon, he moaned out your name and hot liquid shooting down your throat and some spilling down your chin. He held your head back, "swallow it." you did and even licked your lips to taste the bitter taste on the lips.

He bent forward, his breath hitting your earlobes and he whispered, "now come for us, baby."

Your whole body shook, letting out a loud moan calling out their names and he kissed your shoulder, "good girl."

Jeno gripped your hips gently to ride out your high and planted you to his side. You were panting and resting on your palms and knees. "Don't think we are done with you."

Jeno's voice made you look at them and he got off the bed to stand straight, "come here." you crawled to the end of the bed and stayed on your knees. His lips shining with your juices and some falling down over his vest and he licked his lips and wiped his chin.

"You like my vest so much. then, Take it off on your own." you nodded and searched for the way to open it. Both of them admired your movements. Your flushed face, red eyes, marked skin and messy hair was not letting their eyes off from you. As soon as you got rid of the material, your fingers tugged at his jeans button.

He held your hand glared, "did I say anything else?" you stared at him and he pulled you up in a kiss. His kisses are always different from Mark in every aspect and this is why you realize every little kiss from them. Who is the one kissing you even when you're asleep. He sucked your lips, biting it down and sucking your tongue. He tries to be gentle but as soon as he gets a taste of you, he will lose control.

Gripping your jaw to suck hickeys on your throat and shoulder, he messily makes out with you. His grips were way more strong than Mark's because the older one becomes gentle now and often, but the younger one's grip doesn't falter ever. His other hand guided yours to his abs, finger tracing each bump and the muscle lining down to his jeans button. He tapped your hand to signal you to open it and you did it quickly, surprising the one standing beside you.

"So eager for him. Aren't you?"

Jeno pulled your head back by your jaw, "answer him."

"Yes. yes. I want you, Jeno."

He chuckled, pecking your lips and pulling down his jeans along with the boxer, "have patience. You will be getting me." his fingers entangled with your hairs, massaging your scalp. Your eyes closed and leaned to his touch, when he suddenly made you hiss with the sudden pull, "suck me. Come on, you can't be greedy now."

You nodded and attempted to lean forward, his grip became tighter to meet your face, "behave, y/n."

"Yes. I am not greedy."

"Good girl." Before you could have adjusted him inside your mouth, he thrusted forward, choking you in the process, he was slightly bigger than Mark and you had to use your palm to match both the rhythms, hollowing your cheek and teeth grazing while his tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears spilling from your eyes and your drools by the corner of your mouth, trailing down to the chin.

You felt a presence behind you, his hands exploring your body, roaming around, giving you feather touch with some occasional squeeze here and there. Your whole body jolted when he pinched a nipple above your bra. His chuckle was faint due to the loud groan and moans of the man in front of you. With a quick snap, your bra was undone and he was quick to fondle your chest and kiss all your bare back. His hands were playing with your stomach, tracing patterns when he took both of the nipples between his fingers. Pinching them and pulling them before releasing them when you were squirming. Repeating the same action all over again.

Jeno pulled you away and you gasped for air, drools sticking to your chin and trailing down the throat. Mark left one nipple to insert a finger into your hole and you moaned. You were adjusting to the new feelings of a finger inside you, when he shoved inside another one and started pumping in a full speed. You gripped the bedsheet tightly and Jeno slapped your cheek with his member, "don't think of coming before you make me cum."

And again, he shoved himself inside your warm mouth, feeling the satisfaction and pleasure again. He guided your head to his own liking, grabbing your hair and moving it in a rhythm and Mark was showing no mercy to your abused cunt and maintained his own pace, your body squirming and eyes shut close. "Look at me." Jeno's harsh tone made your eyes flutter open and you quickly looked up, meeting his eyes. "Keep looking at me." Mark pinched your nipple and the other hand was busy making you nearing your climax.

Jeno moaned loudly, not caring the neighbors would think someone growling inside your house and pulled himself out. "Swallow it." you tried to swallow the hot thick sticky liquid but some still spilled from your corner of the lips and trailing down your chin to your chest. "Do you want to come?" He noticed your struggle to keep eye contact and as soon as you nodded, he pinched your left out nipple, making you cry out. "Mark, stop there." he ordered and kissed your nose with a smile.

Mark was quick to stop and retreated his hand from your cunt. You whined and sobbed because of another denied orgasm. Jeno shoved off his pants aside before climbing on the bed and then when you noticed Mark had no clothing on himself. Jeno pulled your back flushed to his front. His member poking your lower back and Mark resting between your legs when he kissed your inner thighs and his member hanging limp in front of you. You gulped at it and met his gaze. You loved this. They knew about it. You loved edging and getting denied orgasms and they were well aware of your limits and if it was too much, you better knew how to use the certain word.

"Do you trust us?"

"Yes, Mark. I do. Please."He kissed your temple before smoothly sliding himself inside you from front and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, kissing down your collarbone and biting some sensitive areas. Groaning in your ear and licking it afterwards when you felt a cold sensation in your ass. Jeno was spreading the lube to prep you with a finger and then two when he suddenly inserted himself. Groaning in your other ear, both of them using you like a fuck toy and it was a whimpering and groaning mess inside the room. Jeno's lips and teeths were not leaving a single area to suck and his fingers kept rolling and pinching your nipples, sometimes turning your head around to kiss you.

Mark brought your face to kiss you again and other hand circling over the clit.

"So full, Mark. so full, Jeno." you were mumbling so many things. Jeno hummed in your ear, "I know. Take it like a good girl." you grabbed Mark's wrist which was busy down there, "please, Mark. Too much." he kissed your closed eyes, "shh...you are doing so well. Taking us so well."

The double stretch was burning you out and you were sobbing between them but their hot touch was building your coils inside you again. Their rhythm soon matched with each other and Jeno kissed the sensitive spot in the back of your ear, whispering, "come for us, baby."

Your head fell back on his shoulder and soon after both of them bottomed out inside of you, filling your two holes with their hot spilled seeds painting your walls. Jeno bit down on your shoulder and Mark bit your throat slightly when they hit the climax. Three of you were panting in the position. Neither of them pulled out from you, Jeno kissed your shoulder softly and Mark kissed your cheek, "look at me, y/n."

Your hooded eyes looked at him and he smiled sweetly, "let's clean you up. Come on."

You shook your head, not having a bit of energy to talk. Now it's Jeno who spoke up and held you still when you whined as Mark slipped himself out, "y/n, just stay awake for a while. Then we will sleep together. Promise." he kissed your head and he slipped himself out, you were nodding your head and tried to fall to your side but he swept you off the bed and stood up with you in his arms.

Mark entered the bathroom first to prepare for the bath and soon after Jeno followed him with you. Jeno took the shower by himself and Mark cleaned you up with him. In the meantime, you cleared your fogged mind and stared at both of them while dressing up into fresh and comfy clothes.

As the three of you reached near the bed, you climbed on it quickly and fell down on your back, staring at the ceiling in comfortable silence. Both of them followed you on either side and chuckled at your cute reactions. You hugged Mark and snuggled your face into his chest when he stroked your hairs and rubbed your back. Jeno turned you around and pecked your lips, "are you okay? Were we rough with you?"

You shook your head, "no. you both were perfect. If you were hurting me then you would have listened to me and stopped there."

He nodded and patted his bare chest. Neither of them were wearing any shirts, only in boxers but you were in a camisole and a satin shorts. You happily rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes against his heart beat, "can I ask you both something?"

Mark hummed and urged you to speak, placing a kiss on your shoulder and pressing himself to your back. You felt both of their body heat against your skin and it was the best feeling ever you could get in your life. Both of them together with you and no other tension surrounding you.

"Both of you cummed inside me. What if I get pregnant?" you rubbed patterns on Jeno's stomach. He stroked your hair and massaged your scalp. "So?"

"Are you both okay with it?"

Mark turned you around and smiled, "we will be more than okay. It will be so nice with your swollen belly and after a few months, a crying baby in the household."

"And then there will be two babies for us to handle, Mark." you hit Jeno's arm when he teased you. Both of their laughs match the pitch and you made annoyed faces at them. "Don't worry, y/n. We are okay with everything which you love. If you are fine with having a baby, we are happy too." Jeno smiled down at you.

Mark added, " we won't pressure you for anything. If you don't want one, then also it's fine. Just take it easy. No rush. I know you got this."

"I love you. I really love both of you."

Mark smiled, "I love you too."

"I love you too, y/n." Jeno caressed your cheek.

Yes, the love between you three is incomparable. You don't think if anyone else in this universe can ever make you feel loved like them. You just want to stay between them like this forever. If only you could sleep in their arms and forget all other worries from life, just you and them and your sweet dreams.

"Keep talking, y/n. I will have a nice sleep." Mark laughed at Jeno's statement and you glared at them before pressing your face further into Mark's chest when he pulled you towards him, blocking your attempt to hit Jeno who was smiling at your cute act. He finally hugged you from behind, with you three drifting off to sleep.

Atleast, the night was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

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vacantwatchers · 4 months

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Platonic Stobin discuss Steve's relationship with Nancy. It's kind of critical on Nancy bc I'm biased (and a hater). Read it on Ao3 here.

“Explain to me why Henderson thinks you’re into Nancy again.”

“Fuck knows, Rob. I haven’t seen her around, let alone spoken to her since all that shit at the mall.” He didn’t really like the way she’d frowned at Robin when they’d met up, definitely hadn’t liked the antagonistic tone she used when she’d asked who Robin was.

Steve felt Robin sigh before the gentle weight of her head rested atop his. “The little gremlin cornered me at lunch and demanded to know why we weren’t dating–”

“I’m out of your league,” Steve muttered to her right hand as he slowly coated her index in the dark red polish.

“Keep believing that, Popeye. He asked me if I thought you were repugnant or something and that's why I wouldn't give you the time of day.”

Steve paused to swipe away polish with his nail. “What does repugnant mean?”

Robin hummed, a little delay as she tried to find a definition for him. Steve can imagine her flicking through a little rolodex that’s full of what Robin considers Steve approved explanations.

In the space of his waiting, he’d managed to finish the first coat on her right hand and gently lifted her hand up, smiling to himself at the way Robin moved from his hand to his shoulder.

(It took three weeks of working in Family Video, working back to back shifts so dead they made the burnt shell of Starcourt look lively for Robin to come in one day with a bulging pencil case and the demand that “if you’re just going to sit there, at least paint my nails, dingus.” It took three attempts with Robin smudging her nails with her flailing before they established that when he finished a hand, he would lift it, and she would rest it on his shoulder.)

“Repugnant is like when something is really distasteful, unacceptable.”

“Tammy Thompson’s muppet singing is repugnant.”

Robin snorted into his hair. “Perfect use of repugnant, Steve. It’s also a word you can use similar to revolting, repulsive, disgusting and offensive.”

Pulling her left hand closer to his right side so he could see what he was doing, Steve hummed. “Okay. So Dustin thinks you think I’m revolting, repulsive, disgusting, and offensive?”

“Yeah, Steve, I told him I just couldn’t date such a disgusting man who spends twenty minutes on his hair after a shower and ignores me every time I tell him he needs to go to an optometrist because the way he can’t see makes me sad. No. I said that while I am happy to spend my life with you as my soulmate, we are strictly platonic.”

Sliding the brush back into the bottle, Steve gently swiped his nail down the side of Robin’s thumb. “That absolutely didn’t shut him up. Give them a minute before I do the next coat.”

Robin nodded her understanding, which made him nod. “No, me saying that didn’t stop him. Me asking if the reason he was so interested in your love life was because he was the one with the crush on you, however, did.”

“Ew, Robin, he’s like my brother.”

“That is exactly what he said, just with a lot more volume and yelling.”

Steve leaned further into the weight of Robin at his back, taking a moment to absorb the fact that she lets him take whatever touch he needs without freaking out the same way she does whenever someone else tries to touch her in the slightest. Uses the pause to organise his thoughts out of the jumbled train they come at him in. “I’m not sure when, uh. When we dated, I’m not sure it was love.”

“Okay.” Robin’s hum tingled through his diaphragm. “Talk it through, you were convinced last year you’d loved her. Don’t even try to think it out for me like you do, just say it all.”

“The ol’ Robin treatment, huh?”

“I hate that that is what you call it, but yes. Please proceed.”

“We dated, and I tried to be there for her, right? Like I had to go to these absolutely depressing dinners with Barb’s family every fucking week, because Nancy thought it was the right thing to do and I had to pretend to eat the food, and I tried to give her space when it felt like she was pulling away. I’d take her out to get her away from thinking about it all because I could see that she was struggling and thought maybe doing normal shit teenagers did would help. Would sit with her and listen when she needed me to, or just be with her when she needed silence. I’d ask about how she slept, and if she was still having nightmares, I would reach out and just try and hold her hand or hug her.

“But, I don't know. I’ve been thinking back on it, and Nancy never really did the same shit back, y’know. She would have these moods where she’d just be so angry. Angry at herself, the situation. Me. And I get it, it was fucked up and we couldn’t tell anyone without the threat of being taken away. But she’d go on and on about how we killed Barb and it was our fault and then it would turn into how it was my fault she was dead. And then so often she would say this line and at first I was like, she’s saying it in this fond way so she doesn’t mean it, but she said it so oft–”

“What would she say?”

Steve tilted his head back so he could look up at Robin. “What?”

“Nancy. What would she say?”

“Oh.” Steve looked back down, fiddling with the nail polish bottle. “She’d say ‘you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington’ and she’d make these comments, and I don’t even know if she was aware of it. Like she’d call me dumb and say don’t be stupid, or imply that I wouldn’t be able to do something or understand because I wouldn't get it.

“And when she went over my work she’d say it never made sense, and like, her tone, her tone always said it because I wasn’t smart enough. Like, she’d read over things and point and make comments, and honestly, it was more confusing than anything because the points made sense to me, but apparently not to her–”

Robin made her little grunting sound. She did it every time she needed to interject something. “Yeah but that's like, your mind's process. You do it when you talk too, that structuring thing you do where you make these links to things, and it all somehow flows. My mom said you might have something called dyslexia or dysgraphia. One of those two.”

Steve looked up at Robin, eyebrows scrunching up. “You talk to your mom about me? When did she even have time to figure that out?”

“I talk about you to her all the time because we both love you. And she noticed when you were helping me with my English homework.”

Huh. “Okay then.”

“Keep going with what you were saying, sailorman.”

Seven months, and she still hasn't given up on the nautical nicknames. Jesus.

“After early admissions for colleges had closed, Henderson actually found the essay I wrote, and he said it was good. That the parallels were there and with only a little tweaking it would have been great, and when I mentioned what Nancy said he kind of paused before reading it again and said he didn’t see what she was talking about. He even had his mom read it because for a while, she was admin for a college, and she said it would have gotten me in. After Christmas, I asked Nancy if she wanted to go with me to tour some colleges once and she looked at me when I dropped some of the names and said, ‘Do you think they’ll believe you’d fit in there?'"

“Jesus Christ,” Robin muttered.

“It just, it built up and I think at the time I was blind to it because I was trying to lose myself in the relationship, in being there for her.”

“What about you?” Robin’s hand slid down from its perch on his shoulder to his chest so she could pull him closer. “Was she there for you? Like, you told me that since ‘83 you can’t eat meat because of the smell of burning demogorgon put you off, and that having to lure the demodogs with meat was really triggering. And I know you have trouble sleeping and you have those awful nightmares that make it so that sometimes you can’t eat.

“Which, can I just say, is really concerning because you already have this habit of forgetting to eat even when you’ve brought lunch. And I know it’s probably something to do with the way you get stuck into stock or shelving, but I hate it when you get into that groove. But I’ve also figured out that you will eat anything I hand to you, as long as I’ve taken a bite first, so it’s not that bad.”

Needing to move a little, Steve tightened the nail polish and started shaking the bottle.

“Oh, uh. Those dinners with Barb’s family, it was always KFC, that’s why I never ate anything there. She’d actually get annoyed because she thought it was disrespectful? That I only ate the bread and chips? And after that first night where Barb died, Nancy never came over to my house again because she said it had too many bad memories and it made her uncomfortable to be there. So she never really saw the nightmares. When she wanted to see me, she would have me come over and she’d push me on the bed and then when she was done she’d tell me it was getting late, and kind of push me towards her window to go.”

“Steve– that doesn't sound healthy at all.”

"Yeah."

Lifting the nail polish bottle, Robin took it as the signal it was and dropped her hand in his again.

“I think, even when I was dating her, she talked more to Jonathan than me.”

“That’s fucked up, Steve.”

“I think that’s just trauma, Bobby. We weren’t good together. I don’t know. Whatever Dustin is seeing between us is completely in his head. Especially considering the money moves I'm making with Operation Metalhead.”

“You need to stop saying money moves. All you've done is wave at him and blush when he loaned you a Megadeth tape.”

Gently guiding her hand back into his best field of vision, Steve started in on the second coat. “I don't know, sounds pretty money to me.”

Steve felt Robin inhale for a deep sigh, her warmth increasing against his back for a moment before she exhaled. "I think Eddie might have actually graduated before Operation Metalhead gets anywhere close to being a success."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler critical honestly #platonic stobin #pre steddie #steddie fic

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frenchkisstheabyss · 22 days

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♡Housewarming (2)♡

♡ Pairing: dom!fiance!yeosang x sub!chubby!fem!reader x best friend!wooyoung, best friend!seonghwa, best friend!hongjoong

♡ Genre: smut/angst

♡ Summary: You thought things were settled after your not so innocent sundress drew a bit more attention from your fiance's friends than he would've liked but things are far from over for you. If it's attention you want then it's attention you'll get and only he gets to decide when you've had enough.

♡ Word Count: 2.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom Yeosang, possessiveness, choking, gagging, cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration (oral/vaginal), oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, reader's super needy/has full on baby girl vibes, probably a strength kink, voyeurism, Hwa & Joong are watching but not involved (this time), pet names (good girl, baby girl, etc), praise, dirty talk, strong language (obviously), Yeosang is daddy, and it's reaaaal wet in here

♡ A/N: Babes, I mean, like, look, I thought I wasn't into Yeosang but am I into Yeosang? Is dom Yeosang my thing now? I already have too many biases in this group. I'm gonna go to that concert in August and simply die on the spot now, I fear.

Anyways, as always, I hope ya'll enjoy my chaos and let me know what you think!

♡ Part One Here

♡ Part Three Here

It’s difficult to load the dishwasher when your head’s still fuzzy from the events of the last few minutes. All of this over a dress? A dress you hadn’t put the faintest thought into when you first put it on. Naturally you thought it was cute, you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise, but sexy? That was the last thing crossing your mind when you picked this sundress off the rack. It’d crossed Yeosang’s though, enough to make him jealous. And his friends…had they really been looking at you?

Leaning down to close the dishwasher, your thighs squeeze together a bit bringing back the tingling between your legs. If his friends were looking or not, you aren’t particularly mad at the consequences you had to face for it. Riding your fiance’s thigh in your hallway within earshot of his closest friends made you feel absolutely filthy and you'd 10/10 do it again. You love how determined Yeosang was to make it known to all of you that you belong to him. That he can reduce you to a whimpering, dripping mess wherever and whenever he wishes.

You catch yourself staring into space, your thighs slippery once more with your arousal. “Get it together” you say to yourself, clicking a few buttons to turn the dishwasher on. You still have to meet Yeosang in the living room—for whatever reason—and you can’t go like this. Readjusting your sundress to cover as much skin as possible, you fill your brain with the least sexy thoughts you can to flush out the horniness. By the time you make your way out to the living room, memories of volunteering at a nursing home have made you sufficiently turned off.

You let out a sigh of relief as you position yourself on the arm of the chair Yeosang’s seated in. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung are scattered across the remaining couch and chair, their attention seemingly dedicated to the random Youtube video playing on the flat screen.

“What are you guys watching?” you ask, laying your arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and petting his cheek. The side eye from the guys is instant. They couldn’t make it more obvious that they’re trying not to acknowledge you if they tried.

Yeosang slips an arm around your waist, smiling up at you, “Mmm, nothing…yet.”

“Okaaay, well, what are you gonna watch?” you ask, hoping to push through the awkwardness.

“Come here. I’ll show you” Yeosang says, guiding you onto his lap so that your back rests against his chest. There’s that side eye from the guys again but you now recognize it for what it is. It isn’t from awkwardness, it’s from…anticipation?

Trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, Yeosang tilts your head back to whisper into your ear, “They heard you, you know that right?” He spreads his legs, opening yours along with them, “Heard you grinding that pretty little cunt on my leg. Fuck, it is so pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeo—” you gasp, attempting to snap your legs closed, but he stops you, tucking his knees inside yours so that you have no choice other than to sit here exposed. Magically whatever’s on the TV doesn’t matter anymore. Every set of eyes in the room is fixed on you and the gorgeous space between your legs. You wiggle in Yeosang’s lap, attempting to get away but the muscular arm locked around your waist isn’t budging. “Yeo, baby, what is this?”

Yeosang plants kisses behind your ear, his hand reaching around to fully grip your neck. He squeezes your neck, not too hard but just enough to make you gasp for air, your body arching from how good the pressure feels. You press harder into his lap and his cock presses right back, twitching against the plush of your ass.

“What is this?” he teases, mimicking your voice, “Consequences. You can’t just go around teasing our guests. That’s not very nice is it?”

The hand by your waist gathers the front of your dress, yanking it up so that your soft, cute belly pops out. A smile tugs at Wooyoung’s lips, the bulge forming in his pants becoming more and more obvious by the second.

“I…I didn’t mean to” you swear, your face the picture of innocence.

But your body betrays you. Yeosang dips his fingers down to stroke your entrance and they’re wet before he can even touch you. “My dirty little girl, dripping already. You want me to punish you, don’t you?” They sink into you and your walls eagerly suck them in, clenching as he lazily fingers your core.

“No, I’m sorry. So sorry, so…” you mewl, your voice trailing off into angelic moans.

He adds another finger and your body weakens, your head threatening to fall back but Yeosang won’t let it. He won’t let you ignore how badly the others want you. You have to see it this time. You have to see Hongjoong biting his nails, thinking of all the ways he’d fuck you if you were his. And Seonghwa almost squirming in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position to conceal how hard you’ve gotten him.

“Are you really sorry, baby girl?” Yeosang asks, pretending to be sympathetic to your struggle. You manage a weak “yes” that’s cute but could be better. “Say ‘Yes, daddy’” he instructs, choking you a little harder, his fingers curling into your gspot as he fucks you with them as hard as he can.

You grab onto the arms of the chair, your eyes wide and shimmering, “Yes, daddy. I’m, ah…I’m sorry. I’m, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

It takes minimal effort now for Yeosang to keep your legs open. You spread them willingly for all the men to see, surrendering to the pleasure of being watched so intently by the four of them. It has you so wet that you’re leaking down to your fiance’s wrists, the splashing of your juices audible over the TV.

“Show daddy how sorry you are” Yeosang says, depriving you of his fingers. They leave your core with a pop that’s music to their ears. Without them there your pussy still clenches, your clit twitching and begging for attention. Yeosang lifts you in his lap ever so slightly, unzipping his pants to free his cock. He lowers you down onto it inch by inch, teasing you with that delicious stretch until your mouth’s watering.

He fits perfectly inside of you, the way he always has. Your walls cling to him so desperately that you can feel the blood rushing through every vein traveling down his length. It has the perfect curve to it, intensifying that pressure behind your belly. You want friction. You want it so badly that you’re already rocking in his lap. Behind you Yeosang lets out low, controlled grunts, raising his hips to bottom out.

This self control thing is like torture when you’re this cute and needy but he has to keep it together. He grabs you by the waist, keeping you both as still as he can while leaving you whining for more. You glance back at him, pouty and sad, with a face that it tears him apart to deny.

“Aww, I know, baby” he coos, kissing you on the cheek, “You want daddy to fuck you but I need you to do something else first.”

“Mmm, like what?” you ask, sneaking in a bit of movement that he let’s slide just this once.

Yeosang brushes his fingers across your lips and they fall open for him like they just know. “I know they’re all wondering what my pretty girl’s mouth can do,” he whispers, easing his fingers between your lips and coating your tongue in your own arousal. “You gonna open up and show them for me?”

“Mmhmm” you hum, wide eyed, suckling and drooling around them.

Pleased by your obedience, Yeosang’s gaze drifts around the room, “Who do you want first?”

You take your time, pretending that you don’t already know who you want, “Woo, please.” This entire time Woo’s been glowing with admiration for you and you long for more of it.

Woo approaches you casually, the same as he would any other time. There’s that familiar sense of playfulness you adore so much about him but also something darker, more intense. Yeosang pulls his drenched fingers from your mouth and Woo, cradling your chin in his palm, replaces them with his tongue. Woo’s kisses are sloppier than Yeosangs, the excitement of the moment too much to contain, but you enjoy it as much as you imagined you would.

When he pulls away to see your lips glistening, your mouth hanging wide open for him, he swears he’s dreaming. Yeosang watches attentively as Woo undoes his pants, slipping his cock between your hollowed cheeks. It’s impossible, with how tightly you’re wrapped around his cock, for you not to feel your fiance pulsing inside of you at this display.

Woo clasps his hands behind your head, snaking his fingers in your hair, “Fuck, you feel amazing. I see why he wants to marry you.” You look up at him, batting your eyelashes, and relax your throat to take him deeper. Woo makes small thrusts, the suction between your cheeks milking him of every drop of precum.

“Look at you, taking that cock so well. Good girl” Yeosang beams, pulling down the front of your dress to cup your breasts.

There’s a sense of relief as he massages your neglected tits, shaping them under his touch. His thumbs curve around the sides, coming together with his pointer fingers to pinch your sensitive nipples. You make a muffled squeaking noise when he does, urging him to pinch them harder.

At the same time, Woo’s hips are picking up speed, the head of his cock knocking at the back of your throat. Your tongue wiggles on the underside of his length, dipping left and right to explore the finer details of his cock. Your brain goes fuzzy again, your body overstimulated by being stretched to your limits at both ends.

“Aah, shit, so fucking perfect” Woo hisses, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each thrust. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, baby? Hmm?”

Your mouth’s too full to answer and even if it weren’t you couldn’t string a sentence together to save your life. You’re nothing but an incoherent, moaning mess of a girl, on the edge of coming from being used like a toy.

“Oh my god, what’s this? Don’t tell me you’re about to come” Yeosang taunts, his right hand venturing down to stroke your clit.

Woo smiles down at you, dragging his cock out to paint your lips in his arousal,“Yeo, you’re being cruel. Look at this pretty thing. All fucked out and she hasn’t even been fucked yet. Let her come.”

Yeosang lays his fingers flat on your clit, rubbing it as fast as his wrists will let him. Woo shoves his length back into your mouth, forcing you to take him down to the base. Your body’s on fire in the best way, every sense is heightened to the point that it’s making the room spin.

“Go ahead, baby, do it” Yeosang says, easing down lower in the chair, “Squirt all over daddy’s cock. Show everyone how much my girl’s pussy loves me.”

Those words from your fiance are enough to break you. You come hard down his length, creaming and leaking, ruining his pants. “Look at you, mmph, fuck” Woo moans, his breaths growing quick and short. The tension in him snaps and he’s squirting come down the walls of your throat. You swallow it just as mindlessly as you bounce in Yeosang’s lap, ignoring earlier implications not to do so.

Your fiance knows he should stop you, stick to his own rules, but he’s been ready to come since he first felt you and he’s too close now to stop it. He’s already hitting his high, pumping you full of his come just as the last few drops of Woo’s dribbles down your chin.

The room’s chaotic for a short time, wonderful and utterly feral all at once, and then a serene silence. You fall back into Yeosang’s arms, your lids heavy and your lips a little puffy. Woo gives you a grateful peck on the lips, kissing down your neck…your shoulder…your arm.

“Thank you” he says, kissing the back of your hand. Your ability to talk remains limited but you’re able to give him a smile that lets him know you enjoyed it too. Yeosang turns you in his lap, draping your legs over the arm of the chair so that your head rests on his shoulder. Woo hands him a throw blanket and he covers you in it, making sure you’re nice and cozy.

“Are you okay, my love?” Yeosang asks, inspecting you while he awaits your answer.

You cuddle up to him, your eyes falling closed, “Mmhmm, I’m okay.”

“I’m happy to hear that. Now let’s get you some water and a snack. Let you rest a bit and then…”

Your eyes shoot open and you perk up, “And then…what?”

“And then,” he sighs, booping you on the nose like a kitten, “You finish your punishment. You’re still a little disobedient but we’ll fix that, won’t we?”

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #poly ateez x reader #Wooyoung x reader #Wooyoung x you #wooyoung smut #ateez angst #yeosang angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

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icyg4l · 10 days

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PAC: What Do Your Passed On Loved Ones Admire About You?

Hello beautiful people! Today's reading will be a lot more serious than normal so this is a warning for those who will get emotionally triggered. Your passed on loved ones are with you always! I am simply just passing on the message. My condolences to those who have lost a loved one in their lifetime. If you are interested in this reading, please don't be afraid to dm me so that you can book with me! Be sure to refer to my guidelines and dm me if you have any questions. Without further ado, please pick the image that resonates with you the most.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)

Pile One: Tenacity and strength are the first characteristics that come to mind. Your passed on loved one wants you to know that your childlike innocence is a gift not a curse. This could be your uncle. You are someone that can get the truth out of everyone simply because you know what to say. There’s not a lot that you have to say either. You’re quite the persuasive being. They also admire how level-headed you are. Some of your loved ones were more on the fiery side and because of that, they wish they could have been more balanced with their temperament when they were still here. However, this does not mean that you back down to a fight. You know when to open your mouth to protest against the injustices of the world. You have an undying love for humanity, nature and animals. You are so sensitive and precious to your loved ones. You also know when you’ve made a mistake. Your passed on loved ones see you as their Princess Diana. You’re kind and loving to all, but you fight when your back is against the wall or when others are being judged.

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Magician, 9 of Discs, Princess of Discs, 3 of Discs.

extras: blue ribbon ice cream. no limits. satisfaction guaranteed. mild. “there’s a lesson in everything.” monthly visits. crown. like mike (2002). lesbian. learning accommodations.

Pile Two: “You’re so cool” is the first thing that I heard. You are someone who is the standard. You are the Beyonce of your family. People try to impress you because you’re just that girl/guy/enby. You are an angel on earth. I feel like some of you were bullied when you were younger and this person came to your defense. This could have been an older sibling/cousin, maybe your mother who was younger than most. But you did not let these traumatic events harden you. You grew into a beautiful person. This pile as a whole went through a lot of back-to-back trauma in their lives but your passed on loved one wants you to know that they admire your peaceful approach to life. You are someone that is easy to bond with. I feel like you choose not to drink when the opportunity is presented because you have a bit of a temper when drunk. Your passed on loved one could have been the same way. You also have a fair way of viewing things. You try not to be biased when shown two sides of the story. You consider everything. You value the truth and the moral of the situation. Your integrity matters, Pile Two. Your passed on loved one wants you to continue to be this way.

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, Temperance, The Moon, 4 of Swords, Death, King of Swords, 6 of Discs.

extras: wet shirt. pushya moon. water sign. effervescent. sniffing flowers. moniker. “grown man.” glow. party pants. amazon. purify. NBA roster. sims 4 gaming channel. kawaii.

Pile Three: You are so humble, dear. Your passed on loved ones really admired your ability to talk to anyone. You never felt like you were above anyone. You treat everyone with the respect they deserve. You have stripped yourself down to the point where everyone can see through you clearly. You do not have to depend on material things to make up your self-concept. Your vulnerability is beautiful. It’s not a level of self-awareness that everyone can achieve. Some people may try to make you feel bad for where you come from but you carry yourself with nonchalance. That saying about sticks and stones is personified. Your passed on loved ones admire how you stay out of the way. “This is a crazy world” I heard. It feels like this is an elder talking to you. They believe that you will do big things in this world despite how little you have come from. You were not set up for failure. You have the tools to improve your situation.

Cards Used: The Star (RX), 6 of Cups, The Hermit, The High Priestess, Princess of Discs, Wheel of Fortune.

extras: neck tattoo. “kiss the ring.” ring around the rosie. martian. elephant in the room. malleable. solar system. troubleshoot. best buy. filled gas tank. empty condom box. snoring. aaliyah.

Pile Four: Your passed on loved one admires you in totality. This is your lover, could have been your fiance/fiancee. This also could have been your best friend. They miss your scent. They miss being in your presence, period. They love the shape of your eyes. They love the way you smile and tilt your head downward. You have this unexplainable quality about you that lights up the room. They know that life is different without them but they want you to keep going. Your go-getter, flirtatious nature is admirable as well. You have this lust for life that everyone should have. Your lover misses your physical touch. Your ability to get up every morning and go to sleep at night makes them want to come back down to Earth temporarily. Your person could have had some egotistical qualities about themselves but they love that you loved them with all your heart. They see you as their other half. They want to reunite with you in another life. This story is to be continued, my love.

Cards Used: Princess of Swords, 9 of Wands, 4 of Cups, King of Wands, 2 of Cups, The Lovers.

extras: eartha kitt. purr. austin powers costumes. chapell roan. meeting in college. musical.ly.

Pile Five: You take pride in your appearance. You stay in the gym to keep your figure right. You get your nails and hair done. You pick out the right colors for your wardrobe. You stay on top of your shit. But you also have this side to you that is in tune with the world around you. You have the perfect amount of both feminine and masculine energy to them. Are you a lawyer or social justice advocate? Your passed on loved one wants you to know that you can do all. You’re living proof that anything can happen. This feels like a male’s energy. He was a dominating force in the household and he was young. This could be your father or older brother. They are smiling down on how you have manifested everything that you two talked about. They were there in spirit when you made history/reached a milestone. They also admire how you keep in touch with family even after their death. They admire how you keep your promises even if it’s something that you don’t want to do. You need to learn to ask for help though and stop being so stubborn. They appreciate the altar you dedicated to them. If not, you need to. It would strengthen the relationship between the two of you.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups, The Emperor, Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 10 of Wands, 10 of Cups.

extras: quen blackwell. new workout plan (2004). ari fletcher. olivia pope. kpop bias. fallen curtain. sweeping feet.

Pile Six: When I pulled for you, I thought of the movie ‘Paid in Full’. Whoever your loved one is, they lived a dangerous/risky life at some point. But they admire how cutthroat you are. You get stuff done. You keep stuff moving. Your passed on loved one says that you have their swag. You have a lot of mental energy. You’re smart, both book and street smart. Your loved one says to stay safe and live life to the fullest; but also live it the clean way. They like how you stay outside in nature with the wildlife. I feel like you are the breadwinner or you at least have a lot of money saved up. You are attempting to gain financial stability at a young age and I can hear claps because of that, lol. Along with your practical side, they admire your outlook on life. You try to be as fiscal as possible but you also try to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You will party with a lot of people. I feel like your person was kind of uptight. I feel like you never miss a chance to make money. You’re a “hustler”, just like your loved one. This person feels like an uncle, a cousin, maybe your father.

Cards Used: King of Discs, King of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Swords, 7 of Swords, Queen of Discs.

Extras: “keep it in the family.” “no one knows.” pork rinds. round glasses. beeper. shady business. groupme. “out of line.” solo dolo. throwback. paying tribute.

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actuallyverynormalbtw · 7 months

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i dont like to talk about self-diagnosis because i dont enjoy people making assumptions about me, my illnesses, and my diagnostic status. but i will say:

i have self diagnosed and gone on to be medically validated with an official diagnosis. multiple times actually. i was never wrong about my self-diagnoses.

however, i have been misdiagnosed by professionals FIVE TIMES. and let me tell you, a professional diagnosis being wrong is far more harmful than a self-diagnosis being wrong.

if your self diagnosis is wrong, maybe you used the wrong language or put yourself in a box or now feel invalid and whatnot. but if your professional diagnosis is wrong, it can lead to abuse, medical trauma, panic attacks, issues with medication, even suicide.

i was misdiagnosed with BPD when i was 15 by a psychologist that i spoke to for hardly even 10 minutes. this diagnosis was based on my parent's description of my reactions to abuse, and the diagnosis was used to validate and excuse their abuse.

i was misdiagnosed with MDD when i was 12 and put through several different types of anti-depressants. we never found anything that worked, because it was actually ADHD and dissociation, but i did end up with panic attacks and insomnia all throughout middle/highschool!

when i self-diagnosed with autism however, it saved my life. it took me out of active suicidality because i was able to finally able to accept myself after years of feeling like i am just "being a person wrong". i had the knowledge to accomodate for myself and the language to advocate for myself. this was life changing. even if i was wrong, which i wasnt, i dont see how it couldve caused any harm.

my opinions on self-diagnoses arent black and white, and im not entirely settled on them either, but i do think this is important to understand. doctors and psychologists are not all knowing. we live in a time where we can access thousands of dollars worth of university level education on the internet, even the same exact resources medical students use. plenty of people are capable of interpreting themselves and that information to come to a conclusion about what they are experiencing and what might help.

sure, self-diagnosis might be biased. but a professional is most likely going to be just as biased, and possibly less aware of it. its just silly to use bias as a primary argument when it is an inescapable feature of human psychology. there is a reason ADHD is underdiagnosed in women. there is a reason anxiety disorders are underdiagnosed in men.

an incorrect self-diagnosis wont take away resources or your space in your comminities. but professional misdiagnosis can cause real damage.

(i am not trying to fear-monger about professional diagnosis, moreso responding to the fear-mongering surrounding self-diagnosis)

#self diagnosis #psych critical #actually mentally ill #self diagnosed autism #anti psych #anti psychiatry #discourse tw #tw discourse #madpunk #neurodivergent #neuropunk

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roo-bastmoon · 1 month

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Off My Chest

Rant about Hybe under the cut. I give you my word I will try to post a majority of positive content, because the world (and my mental health) doesn't need more negativity, but sometimes you just gotta vent.

Folks, if you've known me for a hot second, you've realized I am a Jimin-biased Jikooker... but I am OT7, and I sincerely love and support BTS.

I believe Jimin is a grown man who can advocate for himself and I believe Jungkook absolutely supports and adores him, whatever their relationship status is.

I always try to accentuate the positive and avoid online drama and negativity as much as possible, but I need to get this off my chest.

I will never be gas-lit into believing that the way Jimin was treated in solo era was fair, or equitable, or even made any kind of business-sense. I've genuinely tried to entertain other people's points of view and listen to people who claim to have industry expertise, but...

I will never forget his mail being tampered with four times, his leaked insurance information, denial of more music videos, overlapped solo release, only 9 days of promotion, split title tracks, no radio or play-listing, no bio for his Spotify for months, no restock of his single CD for months, hundreds of thousands of frozen and deleted sales, millions of culled streams, shady articles in WeVerse and Billboard, insulting dialogue in In the Seom, failure to submit to RIAA certification for months, only a paywall documentary on WeVerse, zero official acknowledgement of his Hot 100 #1, 1 billion streams on Spotify, or wins for The Fact, MAMA, and two Webbys, plus broken in-ears, anemic little balloons and a sad background tarp as decorations for his fan events… and the company telling him how doing more would just be impossible.

I compare all that to the push that other members and other groups got, and I know it just isn't true. It wasn't impossible.

Hell, Jeon Jungkook put in more effort to promote Jimin’s work and showed more respect for Jimin as an artist during his at-home lives than that whole company did, which honestly makes no sense from a profit standpoint.

I will never forget it, and I will not entertain arguments that say I’m a solo or an anti or jealous about it. I have eyes.

I am not out to shade any other members nor put forth any conspiracy theories. I simply want all our boys to get everything they justly deserve.

And yes, other members have suffered mishaps and neglect, but nothing of this scale, this consistently. It baffles me, I cannot understand it, and I'm done trying. Something strange was going on behind the scenes and we may never be privy to the details.

In trying to put this awful feeling behind me, I will say I am elated that Jikook are serving together and can support each other. I am glad there will be a Jikook travel show. I'm continually impressed with all of Jimin's success (in the military and professionally) despite all odds. I will always love and support all of BTS with my full heart.

And I sincerely hope the company has been taking notes and course-corrects for PJM2, even if it rubs some higher ups the wrong way if they had a different vision. Considering Jimin’s unique talents and his amazing star power—even his ability to bring Paris and New York to a screaming standstill just for the opportunity to see him exit a car—I would hope the company will “do their best to promote all labels and artists without discrimination” going forward.

But what happened truly sucked, and I needed to get that off my chest. I am not interested in further discussion or debate. I am now going to do my best to shift my focus and energy on to the things I want to manifest, instead of the things that enrage me.

So let me end on a positive and hopeful note: I put all my trust in Jimin, who signed a new contract with Hybe and who unfailingly adores all his members. There can be no love without trust. I will always do my best to trust BTS.

But I'm watching carefully. For Jimin and all our boys.

Love, Roo

#jimin #jikook #park jimin

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pastadoughie · 6 months

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i am literally begging people to stop putting sexism and transphobia on my dashboard please fucking think critically abt ur internal biases for 5 secconds and please accept even an ounce of critisism without assuming that someone is attacking you unfairly

alot of you have extremely sexist beliefs that you dont recognize because within social media as a whole these are incredibly normalized, covering blatent homophobia and misandry in tumblr buzzwords doesnt make you not sexist it just lets you be sexist and homophobic and transphobic in a way that is socially acceptable and incouraged within a queer centric space

i keep seeing posts talking abt how people actively like artwork (writing, photography, drawings) more when they find out its of a butch lesbian and not just a dude, and like, if your opinion on a peice of media can change solely based on the gender of the person being depicted by it, with zero change to the character, then that implies an inharent bias against men like, just because its men doesnt mean it isnt sexism

same thing where people think that media depicting gay men is better when it explicitly isnt written by a gay man, like that implies a fundimental disrespect of the work based on the sexuality and gender of the author. if you like an artwork but then you find out its written by a trans women, and all of a sudden you think its garbage, you are transphobic, but when people try to point this same bias out for the works of queer men this is largely written off.

i know ppl will argue abt punching up and whatnot, and while i do in some ways agree with that overall sentiment, i think that we should be striving to uh, not be sexist at all, rather then just being misandrists instead of mysogenists, like, if you only care about sexism when it hurts women/women ajacent people then you dont actually hate sexism you just want it to harm a different group of people, you dont hate the system you just want to be ontop of it and benifit from it

misandry and mysogeny present in different ways, they arent a directly comparable thing, different people have things worse in different ways so its rlly hard to take a group and say "this group has it worse", like yes generalizations like that can help in an extremely broad sense, but the world is not black and white and this kind of shit is mindnumbingly complex, trying to act like there is some kind of objective scoreing system for who is more oppressed then who is just unproductive and harmful

and moreover, someone having it worse then you doesnt make you less deserving of trying to make your situation better, i dont experience racism and in many many many ways i have it easier then poc people, that does not make me undeserving of support and that doesnt make me complaining or trying to better my situation unreasonable

we can care abt the lives and want to better the situation of different groups simoltaniously, we dont have to stop caring about racism because we want to better transphobia

i get that transwomen have it rlly bad and i do not experience the exact same struggles as them, and therefore cant comment on alot of them, but so often i see erasure of queer men in order to give more focus to transwomen, and just because trans girls go through alot of shit doesnt make that ok

one thing that people have to recognize about misandry and specifically transmisandry that you dont really have to see as much with its mysogeny counterparts is that they have far more attention and people care far more about activism for queer women/women in general, queer mens experience and specifically the transmasc experience is very very very often erased and written off even by supposedly trans friendly and queer sorces, people care more about butch lesbians then they do trans men dispite the insane ammount of overlap between the two groups, when researching about historical butch lesbians alot of them are just, trans guys that people are misgendering and mislabeling as butch lesbians because ooooo woemennnnn

being transmasc myself i can say that like, the erasure of trans men is an extremely large issue, for large swaths of history the experiences of trans people arent paid attention to at all, and even looking at media coverage today, if people are going to talk abt transgenderism they are talking about it specifically under the lens of trans women

this is largely because misandry (specifically, people thinking that having cock and ball makese u somehow predatory) makes trans women an easier punching bag, trans women get more attention because they are easier for radfems (misandrists) to be bigoted against in a more violent way, if you assume all men and amab people are violent and predatory by nature then this makes justifying violence against trans women easier

and yea being a punching bag for the media is fucking hard but it does mean that activism for that group is much much much louder, more people are complaining about trans women so more people know abt the specific issues they face

but dispite trans men yaknow, also existing and recieving a shit ton of transphobia and erasure over history they dont get talked about as much, people hate us and are violent twards us but we dont nessasarily get the same outrage for our treatment

trans men are just as often get the dismissal for being women, and the outrage for being men as trans women do we just dont get as much support and thats really difficult! often people seek to treat transmasculinism as some kind of new thing like, i get the comment often that "usually its boys that wanna be girls" and its like, no. its not. its simply that people care less about us

i think that its really easy to misenterpret me here so im gonna just get this out of the way, i dont think that women have it easier then men in a broad socital sense, but also, i dont nessasarily believe that means that my complaints are invalid, being a queer woman is not a walk in the park, and neither is being a queer man, and both groups experience homophobia transphobia and sexism in different ways, so acting as if saying one is objectively worse then the other is unfair and reductive

i think that if we want to get anywhere in regards to making it easier to be trans then we need to talk about all queer experiences, you cant just, only care about trans women you have to care about all trans people, and moreover queer people in general, this means you HAVE to be vigilant about people wrapping up sexism in a tumblr buzzword packadge, you need to consume things critically and you are not immune to pipelines, people dont just wake up and become radfems you get continually fed more and more extreme idologies, being fed things that you 90% agree with untill you eventually become completely removed from the groups you were supposed to stand with

you can care about the oppression of multiple groups at once, and if you think activism in any way involves the erasure of a certain group then you have fundimentally misunderstood what youre supposed to be doing, queer men exist and they deserve support and respect and you need to be able to support and respect them without being like "ohh she is soooooo trransfemme coded" like. men can be queer and still be men, they can be queer and still deserve your love and support, i am begging.

also yes i am aware that outside of my specific experience of tumblr people fuckin hate trans girls and women in general and they dont feel the need to do this shit. but that doesnt mean what im talking about is not an issue and is not something that people need to change and address. if you find urself doing this shit you have got to reflect on yourself, you arent immune to transphobia or homophobia or sexism ESPECIALLY if you think that you somehow are magically immune. nobody is. no identity is. everybody is suseptible to this shit and it takes active critical thinking in order to combat it

#the beast speaks #i keep seeing this shit on my dash crying screaming throwing up i am begging people to get even a single ounce of reading comprehension #i get this is the piss on the poor webbed site but i try to have hope in humanity and every day i am disapointed further #retchid opinions

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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (11)

She ever thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Her involvement in the case becomes more crucial than she lets on. wc: 2.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: I know this part is long overdue, I've been very busy lately and I can't seem to write anything good for me to post. But do not fret, I am back and better than ever before (lol) Also, thank you for patiently waiting for this update🤍

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"I WOULD HAVE STRANGLED HIM IF I WERE YOU."

Y/n frowned as she watched the slight furrow on her friend's brow, adding an element of emphasis to her words.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sandy rolled her eyes, leaning against the plush couch in the living room with a tall glass in her hand. "I'm just saying," she explained. "He was being a total jerk."

She let out a sigh. A slight confusion weaved itself whenever she contemplated him. She thought that voicing out her emotions on what occurred these past few days could ease her, yet thinking of him was only making her question her sanity. It was as if her mind was attempting to decipher a language it didn't fully comprehend, leaving her caught between curiosity and apprehension.

She honestly didn't know what to think anymore. One minute she felt like she was head over heels for the guy, and the next minute strangling him didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

She could even list all of the things about him that riled her up, yet somehow the thought of having her hands wrapped around his throat reminded her of something entirely different, which was why she found herself saying, "You know, he would actually enjoy that."

Sandy raised her brows. "What? Getting choked to death?"

She scoffed. "No, not to that extent. But like, in another context." She then narrowed her eyes. "If you know what I mean."

The subtle innuendo didn't go unnoticed as Sandy's eyes widened in surprise. "No way."

"Way."

"Damn," her friend mused before taking a sip of her drink. "Smart and kinky. If only he wasn't such an ass to you."

Smart and kinky weren't exactly words she considered using in one sentence, but the sound of them put together surprisingly sounded enticing. It sounded enticing enough that her mind was starting to play tricks on her. It sounded good enough that she found herself starting to miss him, even when logic dictates that she shouldn't.

And now it sounded compelling enough that she couldn't help but weigh in the pros and cons when it came to the man, putting the cons on his ability to switch attitude in a span of seconds into a completely different person—not to mention his tendency to assume biased reasonings based on poor judgment.

On the other hand, the pros were very hard to ignore. There was a certain charm in his awkward demeanor, especially in his shy and uncertain smile every time it was directed her way. Then there was also his intelligent mind she was definitely drawn to.

But above all that, he was, without a doubt, a certified freak in the sheets.

And that was on top of her list.

A subtle sigh escaped her lips, revealing a hint of her internal struggle. "I mean, he did have a good point, don't you think?"

"Y/n," Sandy warned disapprovingly.

"What? He was only doing his job..." She glanced at her. "...right?"

"This is the alcohol talking," Sandy dismissed before standing up. "You would never forgive a man this easy if you were sober."

"It's Margarita Night, what's the point of being sober?" She proved her point by finishing the last drop of liquor from her glass, the vibrant notes of freshly squeezed lime and tequila playing across her taste buds.

Sandy simply scoffed as she took her glass and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking together following behind as she started making them a refill.

Y/n leaned back and closed her eyes, her body poised for a moment of relaxation. But just as the first tendrils of calm began to envelop her, a sharp interruption pierced through the air—the sound of the doorbell ringing.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she rose from the couch. "Our pizza is here!"

Light steps carried her to the door as her stomach grumbled in anticipation, the scent of cheesy goodness already wafting through her imagination. She slowly wrapped her hand around the doorknob and swung the door open, but instead of being greeted by the delivery guy clad in his familiar uniform, the last person she thought would be on the other side of her door stood right in front of her.

Her eyes widened, capturing the shock that rendered her momentarily speechless. Time seemed to slow as her heart raced with caution while she attempted to process on what was happening.

What were the chances of seeing him again right at the moment when she had her friend coming over just so she could rant about the guy?

It was as if the universe was playing a trick on her, presenting a twist she could never have anticipated. As the seconds ticked by, she then finally found her voice, a mix of caution and confusion lacing her words as she muttered, "You're not the delivery guy."

"I'm not," Spencer—god, she still couldn’t believe he was here—responded, his eyes scanning along her features. "Sorry to disappoint you."

There was a fleeting moment where their gaze met, an unspoken wariness passing between them. The memory of their last meeting surfaced with a wave of tension that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She watched as his expression shifted, the space between them seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.

Then a throat being cleared cut through the silence, a soft disruption that broke the spell of their locked eyes. Startled, her gaze broke away from his, shifting to the source of the interruption. And there, standing beside him was another figure—a woman she hadn't noticed until that very moment.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as she glanced at the familiar face, recalling the blonde-haired lady as one of the agents she met at the bureau the other day. Agent... Jareau, was it?

Yes, that was definitely her name. She was one of the few agents who actually treated her without judgment, checking in on her from time to time, which was why she focused her attention on her instead.

"Agent Jareau, what brings you here?"

"Sorry to barge in this late," she replied with an apologetic smile. "But we'd like to have a few words with you."

"It's fine." Y/n stepped aside and pulled the door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, it's alright, we'll be quick—"

"Yes."

Her gaze turned back to the other man and narrowed her eyes.

"I think it’s better to have this conversation inside."

She studied him for a moment before nodding, letting the two agents step inside her home. There was a clatter coming from the kitchen as she closed the door before walking down the hallway, expecting them to follow behind. "We can talk in the living room but—"

"We're putting you on protection."

She abruptly turned on her heels. "What?"

Agent Jareau sent a disapproving look towards Spencer as if trying to say this was not how they usually handle things in this situation. The woman turned back to her and gave her a reassuring smile before explaining, "We've been investigating the situation thoroughly, and it appears that the Unsub we're dealing with might have developed an unhealthy obsession with you."

Her heart slowly raced, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through her veins as the words finally sink in. "Obsession?” Her brows furrowed deeper. “What do you mean?"

"As you may know, all of the victims were related to you in one way or another, where you received some kind of mistreatment by them all. We believe the Unsub might be doing this out of his way to protect you."

She felt a knot tightening in her stomach, a growing sense of vulnerability she had never experienced before. "P-Protect me? But why?"

Agent Jareau's expression softened as she continued, "We're still working to understand the motives behind their actions. But given the escalating behavior and the potential danger it poses, we've decided it's best to put you under protection."

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. "Protection? Like... witness protection?"

Spencer, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "Something similar. We're proposing a protective measure—having an officer discreetly follow you during your daily routine."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to be followed?"

Agent Jareau interjected, "It's for your own safety. We believe that having an officer close by could deter any potential threat and give us a better chance of identifying the Unsub."

Her mind raced as she considered the implications. "But how will I know? Will the officer be obvious?"

"Officer Anderson is currently outside in a separate car. He's trained to blend in while keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings."

"I..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Will he be there all the time?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, but we'll do our best to be inconspicuous. You won't even know he's there most of the time."

The idea of having an undercover officer tailing her sent a mixture of emotions coursing through her veins. Safety, yes, but also an unsettling feeling of being under constant scrutiny.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is."

Her thoughts suddenly spun like a whirlwind, torn between disbelief and grim realization. She had always taken her daily routines for granted, the simple act of going to work or meeting friends devoid of apprehension. Now, each step she took seemed laden with an invisible weight, as if unseen eyes were tracking her every movement.

And to top it all, was she actually the sole reason behind these murders? She wasn't exactly the one acting out these gruesome crimes, yet it might as well happened because of her. Who could harbor such an unhealthy fixation on her? What had she done to attract this unwanted attention?

The unanswered mysteries gnawed at her.

Agent Jareau reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she read the familiar look in her eyes, it was the same look whenever a witness was starting to blame themselves. "This isn't your fault, we're here to support you through this. Your safety is our priority.”

With a deep breath, she nodded, silently accepting the protection they offered. The blonde-haired woman then gestured for her to open the door, which she did, and pointed towards a car parked a few blocks away with its window down, revealing a normal-looking guy sitting behind the wheel.

"That's Officer Anderson, he'll be trailing behind you at a safe distance. You won't even notice he's there."

The officer caught them staring and lifted his hand, a gesture of his greeting. Y/n waved back at him. "Great, I've always wanted a personal bodyguard."

Unfortunately, none of the two agents standing beside her caught the sarcasm in her voice. Agent Jareau turned back to her. "You have our number, right? You can call us anytime if you need assistance."

She did have her number, she also had Agent Prentiss' number who constantly assured her to call if she ever found anything new that could help with the investigation. But surprisingly, out of all the agents she met, the one agent she didn't have their number was the one she had been sleeping with all along.

Not that she was ever going to call him. She simply nodded out of politeness, and as she did, she could feel watchful eyes staring at her intently. Agent Jareau's keen eyes also caught the subtle interaction unfolding before her. She caught the way Spencer's gaze fixed with unwavering intensity on Y/n, who seemed determinedly oblivious to the weight of his stare, or rather, she was purposefully attempting to ignore his scrutiny.

Sensing the tension in the air, she took a step back, offering a fleeting glance to Spencer before turning to leave. "I'll wait in the car."

Her footsteps softly echoed in the night as she disappeared, and Y/n wasn't sure whether being left with him was a good idea.

She could feel the subtle shifts of his movements, the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, as they stood just inches apart. She could also feel the warmth radiating from his body, a tantalizing contrast to the cool breeze that brushed against her skin.

"You okay?"

The air felt charged with tension as he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and sincerity.

"It's safe to say I'm far from being okay," she decided to say.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers curling and then relaxing by his sides. His lips parted slightly as if he were on the cusp of forming the words he had carried within him for so long. His gaze, intense yet searching, traced the contours of her face as if trying to find the right entry point into a conversation that had been left untouched.

And then he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

She finally dragged her gaze on him with an expression that betrayed little emotion. "Are you sorry because a serial killer out there has an unhealthy obsession with me or are you sorry about your misconception of me?"

"Both." He seemed to search her eyes for a reaction, his uncertainty palpable. "But you must understand I was doing my job, it was never my intention to hurt you."

"But you did hurt me," she answered, her gaze dropping momentarily before returning to meet his. "Whether it was intentional or not."

He seemed to struggle for words, a mix of emotions playing across his features "I know. I'm sorry."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining impassive. After hearing the new update on the case and how much she was actually involved, she wasn’t in the mood to be having a serious conversation.

"It's getting late,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “You should probably leave."

Spencer let out a sigh. "Listen, I—"

"It’s getting late,” she repeated, her voice sounding severe. “We can have this conversation another time.”

His shoulders slumped, the weight of his remorse heavy on his chest. He had hoped for a reaction, a sign that his apology had made a difference. Instead, her indifference left him feeling adrift, as if it was a barrier that he couldn't breach, a shield that rendered his efforts to make amends ineffective.

There was nothing else he could do as she turned to face him fully again, her eyes meeting his with a calm finality.

"Good night, Dr. Reid."

He reluctantly took a step back.

"Good night," he murmured.

Then with a nod, he slowly turned away, leaving her standing there all alone. Her gaze remained fixed on his receding figure, his form gradually blending into the night.

Doubt suddenly gnawed at the edges of her consciousness—Had she made the right choice? Was her choice to distance herself a shield to guard against potential heartache, or was it a missed opportunity to rebuild what had been lost?

She shook her head and went back inside, closing the door behind her before leaning against it. It wasn't until she heard footsteps emerging from the kitchen that she realized Sandy was still here.

"What was that all about?"

Y/n glanced at her friend. The two freshly filled glasses in her hands were calling out to her and drowning herself in heaps amount of alcohol seemed like a good idea, even when she was probably going to regret it tomorrow morning. But she needed to feel numb by all of these emotions.

She watched as Sandy offered her a glass, waiting for her reply. There were a lot of things she could answer with, but the only matter that stood out to her was the new revelation on her involvement on the case. So she took the glass from her and pressed her lips around the rim as her mind drifted toward the disguised officer sitting right outside her house.

There was no other way than to explain it as it was.

"I think I might be in danger."

>> NEXT PART

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crazy-pages · 15 days

Text

First step to being a rationalist.

Acknowledge it might not work.

Let me take a step back for a moment. The single most important principle of science, in my opinion, is acknowledging the possibility of failure, that something might be beyond you. People often think of science as how you discover the truth, but I think it is more accurately and importantly described by how it lets us determine what we do not know.

For most of human history, we not only did not know what the sun was made out of, the question was fundamentally beyond our grasp. There was nothing any amount of scientific principle could do that would let you know what the sun was for most of human history. To be a scientist about it, to apply the scientific method to understanding the sun, is not just being able to know nuclear physics. You have to teach yourself to know when to say 'I don't know'.

For most of human history the sun has been fundamentally beyond our capacity to understand. And yet it is one of the most enduring and common subjects of false explanations. To internalize the scientific method, truly in a way that changes your thinking relative to what it was before you learned it, you have to become someone who, if you were living in those times, would be able to say "I don't know" even when everyone around you has an answer.

So let's talk about rationalism.

Rationalism is not just the idea that we can understand human biases. It's not just the idea that we can be more thoughtful or knowledgeable people by understanding these biases. No, rationalism is specifically the idea that by learning enough about human biases and by leaning on hard enough on data, we can reliably make correct and optimal moral choices. It is the belief that by performing enough rationalist study and training, and applying enough information science to a problem, one can proceed on the assumption they have come to the correct conclusion.

And those are very different things. It is the difference between saying "by understanding wood better, we can construct better foot bridges" and "by understanding wood better, we can span the San Francisco Bay with it".

Because here's the thing, better is not the same thing as reliable. Even if we grant the assumption that learning about biases makes one less likely to fall prey to them, and that is an assumption, an 80% chance of making mistake is also less than a 90% chance of making a mistake. It's valuable, that's a good thing, but it is not sufficient to say "hey so I used this method to come to my conclusions, therefore I'm sure I didn't make a mistake".

If you want to be a rationalist, the first rational principle you need to apply is that of the scientific principle looking at the sun. You need to be able to say "There may be nothing I can do, with the resources I have access to, to be sure I am actually free of bias and mistakes in logic. This may be fully beyond me, for the entire span of my life." And not just in the sense that nobody is perfect, but in the very real sense that you cannot depend on the train of logic in your own head to lead you to a correct place.

And the reason this is important is for the same reason it's important in science. The moment that you presume something is in fact knowable in science, it just becomes a tool of accrediting whatever conclusion you come to. It stops being an actual tool of discovery and becomes a rubber stamp of validation. It becomes something which makes you feel better about the conclusion you came to, not something which actually helps you in any way.

The moment you say to yourself, "because I am a rationalist, I am confident enough in A, B, and C to take actions X, Y, and Z" you've failed to be a rationalist. (Unless you provide a double blind study of a large well-controlled population, one of which was given rationalist training and the other which wasn't, upon the end of which it was determined that the rationalist trained population did indeed perform to an improved standard meeting a high minimum on certain metrics (upon which you must limit your assumption of rationalist improvement to those specific metrics). And then this study has been in the corpus of literature long enough to be peer-reviewed and criticized and had duplicate research and further investigation and a good long while for the scientific community to dissect it. A thing which has definitely not happened yet.)

The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is not an understanding of a specific set of biases. It's not the particular ways human cognition is messed up and it's not any type of information science. It is the fact that humans are flawed.

The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is humility, not hubris.

To do otherwise is for rationalism to just become another tool of confirmation bias, something making you think you are more correct than you actually are.

The humility you have to learn from rationalism is that you must plan and behave on the assumption that no matter how rationalist you think you are, you might still be behaving in biased ways. That there might be no way to fix this. And so all you can do try to behave in ways where even if you're wrong, you're going to minimize the harm you do to others.

This is where futurist philosophies derived from rationalism, the idea that the unimaginable number of humans in the future are so much more than the ones now that it justifies worker exploitation and present harms to make the far future better, falls apart. This is where AI doomerism/utopianism, the idea that general AI is definitely the biggest threat and potential boon facing humanity so we have to put all of our resources into safe AI research at the expense of everything else, falls apart. This is where effective altruism, the idea that we can quantify the outcomes of charity thoroughly enough that it makes sense to hand over direction of all charity to a small group of experts, falls apart.

Because the answer to "what if you're wrong about these philosophies?" is that a lot of people get very hurt. We are flawed. Fundamentally so, and I don't know that anyone has ever proved a way we can get around this. The only thing I know that we can do about this, is to try to behave in ways that minimize harms while trying to make the world better, rather than trying to maximize a hail mary to find the holy grail.

To which I can already hear the rationalists saying that this might not be enough to save the world, that anything but convulsive directed effort focused on is already doomed, so we have to pick one of them.

To which I say. First off, how are you sure of that? How is this a thing that you know for certain?

But more importantly. Yeah. You're right. There's no way of knowing for sure what course of action will make the world a better place. There's no way of knowing that anything short of futurists sacrificing the workers of the present to build a brighter future will be enough.

But if you are actually a rationalist, well. That is what you have to live with. You've got to be the scientist looking up at the sun and saying, "I don't know."

And then you should go and do things to make the world better without being sure of your prognostication of the future.

#rationalism #ethics #philosophy #futurism

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steviewashere · 3 months

Text

I Am the Kiwi

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Insecure Eddie Munson, Negative Self Talk, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Calls Eddie Munson Pet Names, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

🥝—————🥝

Maybe he shouldn’t bother their tentative relationship by asking insecure questions.

But that’s not how Eddie’s mind works. He’s never known peace unless there’s been an answer. If he senses the beginning of a question like the itchy fur of a kiwi on his tongue, he has to spit it out. And only then, even if the answer is bleak and even if the answer is negative, he’s at peace with it. He’ll just remember to cut the skin off later, taste the fruit for what it is, find something else about it to savor. Because not everything is sweet. And most of the world is bitter like the skin of that kiwi.

He peels the skin off, hair and all, offering it out to Steve to ponder. In the quiet space of his living room, surrounded by warm love in the shape of Wayne’s mug and hat collection, the five year old instruction manuals for appliances they don’t even have anymore, and amber lightbulbs stained with the broken limbs and melted corpses of stink bugs. Maybe he is an unfortunate bug, drawn to Steve’s light. Maybe he is willing to give himself, all of himself, the ugly parts and disgusting parts to something warm and savoring and bright inside Steve. He knows he is. He always has been.

In the quiet, Steve hot under his arm, droopy with fatigue, chuckling low at the sitcom on the television set, Eddie prickles with unanswered unease. He drags his rough palm down Steve’s soft right arm, fingernails dully scratching from mole to mole, pressing into his loose muscles. Eddie leans his head down, cheek laid atop Steve’s voluminous hair, and he breathes him in. Fruity sweetness, floral undertones, some sort of professional salon shampoo. He kisses tender.

“Why do you love somebody like me?” He breathes. And in the quiet, he startles himself, no matter how much that question begged to break free. Steve tenses in his hold, but Eddie can only force him in tighter. Fingers pressing harsh into his fatty parts. Nails mean and sharp and jagged. He buries himself farther into Steve’s beautiful hair.

His boyfriend is gorgeous. And he’s self-sufficient. Kind in a way Eddie seems to have forgotten to be. How can somebody like Steve love him?

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His breaths falter in the room. Like he’s trying to catch his breath after being scared in a haunted house. Maybe, if Eddie allows himself to marinate in it, maybe it’s exactly like that. There’s something rippling, haunted, venturing lonely and howling under Eddie’s skin. He thinks it started with his mom’s death, percolated when his dad went to prison, came full bloom like a crumpled flower on Wayne’s doorstep so many years ago. In a way, Steve is scared. Not scared of Eddie. Or the truth. But this third thing, of answering the question. Of finding the right words, to which Eddie knows he struggles with—so in all aspects, asking something partially insecure and partially selfish is demeaning. It’s, if Eddie thinks about it, challenging Steve’s love.

There is no response, not yet. But what does fill between them is the live studio audience laughter. The laughter of people who probably didn’t find the joke particularly funny or even clever. They’re just there to laugh. To see behind the scenes of some TV show. To be recognized among the crowd.

Sitcom laughter. And Eddie refuses to let Steve see him.

He hears Steve take a tentative deep breath. The back of his hand touched by the softness of Steve’s palm. And he’s reminded, even in the simplest interactions such as this, that they come from two different worlds. Of all those biases he held onto for years. Unable to get over himself or get with the program. Steve is nothing of what Eddie thought. He’s a jock, sure. And he’s got the better life in some ways; nothing to really label him as other and a status that seems to override him, but it’s not negative. He isn’t a bully. He’s soft and kind and sweet and loving, not a douchebag. A good person. Where, sometimes, Eddie feels as though he lacks all the qualities that Steve seems to be plentiful in.

“Eddie—“

“No, sorry,” he apologizes immediately. His voice small and childlike. “Sorry, that’s not okay to ask. You love me and that needs to be enough.”

Then, Steve shifts. Pulling himself away, sitting on the edge of the cushion, turning to be face to face. And Eddie’s ashamed. He’s mad at himself, too. If the heartbreaking soft sadness in Steve’s eyes is anything. His little frown, pulling down his pretty lips and furrowing his eyebrows and making him wrinkle in all the bad ways. He tilts his head and peers at Eddie.

“I love you because I just do,” he murmurs, “I don’t know how to explain why I do. You’re unlike anybody I’ve ever loved.”

Eddie swallows, takes a breath, and asks, “In a good way or a bad way?”

Steve’s gaze softens. The sadness still lingering, but replaced by determination, even the lightest form of it. “Always in a good way,” he whispers. He reaches out, takes Eddie’s right hand in his left and squeezes. He’s so soft. “You know who you are. And you’re loud about it. I admire that about you.” He closes his eyes, thinking. When he’s gathered, his voice is enamored and murmuring, “And, baby, you’re gentle even if you don’t realize it. You know how and when to take care of the people around you. I’ve never—I’ve always been the one to do that in relationships. You make me feel…Complete.”

Eyes back on him, Eddie swallows most of this insecurity. “Really? You think I complete you?” He questions meekly.

Then, Steve nods, not even taking a moment to consider. Because he just knows. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I know we just started this whole…thing—“ he swings their tangled hands back and forth between them. Eddie chuckles, earning him the most earnest smile he’s probably ever seen. “But, I have a feeling that we’ve got something special. Plus, we’ve got all the free time in the world, y’know, now that it’s not ending. We’ll be okay. I love loving you.”

“I love loving you, too,” Eddie murmurs in turn. He brings his free hand up and brushes some stray strands of Steve’s hair back. Thumb tickling down his temple, swiping under his eye where it’s heavy and blue. “I’m sorry for doubting your love.”

“Honey,” Steve sighs. “It’s really okay. I get it, you know? Everybody has their insecurities. Hell, I have some deeply awful ones.” He leans into Eddie. His warmth radiating once more. Breath ghosting over his cheek, words soft, “I will always reassure you. Because I know you’d do the same for me.” And then, Steve presses a tacky, sweet kiss to his cheek. The tip of his nose crumpling with the soft plunge he gives into Eddie’s skin. He is cracked open raw and for once, instead of being turned away or shunned, somebody is there to enjoy him. Steve is there to savor. “You’re special,” he whispers, “my special one.”

Eddie can only melt in his hands. He’s content with this answer. Fulfilled.

This relationship may be new, but Eddie knows it’ll soon be something sacred. Like the sticky, sugary green insides of a ripe kiwi.

🥝—————🥝 Fun fact, I'm allergic to kiwis. Found this out after my tongue got itchy from the skin of a kiwi. That was a scarring thing to discover in the middle of my kindergarten snack time, tell you that much. Haven't had one since.

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort

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