#by all means it just seems a bit irrational??

[architectureandmorality]

Everything wrong with John building a house

It's my 2nd playthrough and I still can't understand what John's doing. Idk if it was supposed to be wrong and funny or if it was just an overlook. If any of you can justify these things please speak up, I want to know.

First thing: Laying this beam on nothing, there's nothing supporting it.

Nailing it to nothing, there's nothing under where John is hammering the nail onto.

Nailing the beam onto brick??? (3 or 4 instances of this)

Setting up some windows in what seems to be like the inside of the house.

Nvm, he's going to nail a plank across the window (also he just starts nailing them at random heights?).

And now, time to nail the ceramic tiles 😭 (also in random order).

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #I've never built a house (but I've made furniture from scratch) before so I might be wrong here #by all means it just seems a bit irrational??

[semercury]

Should I get irrationally angry over people enjoying a ship from a game I haven't even played based on what I've heard other people say happens in canon? No. Am I? Ha ha...

#stuff sarah says #irrationally angry is a bit overkill. its irrational but like. i just dislike it #like she was MEAN TO HIM. she BETRAYED HIM. she DOESN'T DESERVE HIM! #(or so ive been told. by... self ship blogs who definitely arent biased at all) #(but also based on the comments on the picture too...) #one day ill play the games and watch the movies #until then ill just be sad about my man chasing after someone who seems like she just wants to use him

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere alhaitham #yandere kaveh #yandere tighnari #yandere cyno #yester.writes #yester.au — househusband 💍 #[noooot quite satisfied w what i did w cyno bc i wanted to explore him beyond being a joker but. sigh. not enough media to give me a read o #that side of him]

[songmingisthighs]

ateez reacts to you catching a bouquet at a wedding

group : ateez

pairing : ateez (individual) × reader

genre : relationship, romance, crack ?

wc : 3 k

warning : idk relationship ??

a/n : my impulse strikes again

buy me coffee ?

hongjoong

From the moment the mc announced the bouquet catching session, Hongjoong was tense. He sat slightly straighter and his eyes were wide as his attention was focused on you who joined the other people on the floor.

"Oh look, he's about to shit himself," Wooyoung snickered as he sip his cocktail. Seonghwa smacked his younger friend on the chest and shook his head, "Don't be an ass, bouquet toss doesn't have to mean anything," he said as he shifted his eyes to his frozen friend. "Is he even functioning?" Mingi asked, peering over to wave a hand in front of Hongjoong's face, noticing how the older only move to take small sips of his scotch. "I am, thanks for asking," Hongjoong answered in a monotonous tone, everything he had was put solely on your excited form, not knowing how to feel about you possibly catching the bouquet and expecting things.

What Hongjoong didn't expect was expecting for you to actually catch the bouquet and feeling happy when you did it. He couldn't possibly forget the look on your face as you ran back to him to show off the pretty arrangement. "Did you have fun?" He asked, can't help but cracking a smile as you sat down on your original seat next to him, making the others disperse to give you two a moment. "Of course I did, look!" You giggled, showing off.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see people looking at the both of you and he began getting nervous again. Noticing this, you reached your hand to grab his and smiled, "Don't worry Joong, I'm not expecting anything from you. It's just a fun activity to see if anyone would embarrass themselves," you leaned in to peck him on the lips gently, "So you stop looking like you're about to shit your pants, okay?" You said as you stood up and walked off to your friends.

It was at that moment that Hongjoong realized that he really do want to spend the rest of his life with you. You were so understanding with him and you could always seem to calm his irrational fears. Maybe people were on to something about wedding bouquets.

seonghwa

In all honesty, you never thought of joining the others in the bouquet toss because a. it's cheesy, b. it's barbaric, c. you're in heels and you'd make a fool out of yourself. But it seemed like Seonghwa REALLY wanted you to join in, failing miserably to "subtly" encouraging you. Who'd say 'It's good to get a bit of movement' ?? Your boyfriend Park Seonghwa, that's who.

So you found yourself amongst other people in the middle of the floor, looking at your boyfriend who was grinning at you by the sidelines. "I hate you," you mouthed at him to which he replied by blowing you a kiss, "I love you too," he mouthed back. You could've just walk away but your boyfriend wanted you to do it and honestly, you'd rather comply to the bouquet catching than the other thing he wanted to do. In public space. Semi-public place. Or an open space. Or basically just... A place.

You weren't even paying much attention but somehow you managed to catch the bouquet, it just fell into your hands after three people fought over it on top of your head. The whole crowd couldn't help but stare at you in your dumbfoundedness for a solid five seconds before errupting into a big cheer. The crowd made a path for you to go to your boyfriend and your body just moved on instinct, welcoming his awaiting hug and breaking out of your trance when he pecked your lips. "Seonghwa, I swear, I don't-" you wanted to explain but he just grinned widely, "Guess you're just lucky," he chuckled as he placed his hand on your back to guide you back to your seat.

Little did you know, Seonghwa pulled the bride to be in cahoots with him, making sure to aim the bouquet at you and hope for the best because in a week's time, you'd change your status from being his girlfriend to his fiance.

yunho

Weddings are always your and your boyfriend's thing because neither one of you can resist people in fancy clothing dancing like goofy dorks. And the celebration of love and whatever but mostly the goofy part.

That particular wedding, you and he were pretending to be someone else. Each of you have characters, personas that you assume to mess with people. It's not his fault that people believed that he's south korea's first classically trained didgeridoo player who won an award for breakdancing to mozart. You wondered why he and you hadn't got caught yet for making a mockery of someone's marriage ceremony. A mockridge ceremony.

Not even when the bouquet toss happened did you two start to pay attention. Because you both obviously didn't. You both were doing subtle goofy dances by the edge of the circle, completely immersed in the song they played to wind up the crowd, giggling at each other like lovestruck fools. The last thing you remembered was raising your hands in the air, hearing someone yelled 'the bouquet!', then when your hands dropped back down, you were holding said bouquet.

With wide eyes, you stared at each other dumbly for some time before Yunho broke into a fit of giggles while grinning dumbly. "Guess I really need to learn the didgeridoo so i can turn you into a didgeri-i-do," he joked. You rolled your eyes and slap his chest without trying to hold back your own wide grin from his lame wordplay but also the very unique situation. "What if it's a didgeridon't?" "Not possible, you love me too much," he teased, kissing your lips with the crowd cheering behind you two.

yeosang

You love your boyfriend but you sometimes hate how seriously unserious he is. For example, who would think about why perry the platypus was teal? Who would suddenly ask if you have a bandaid in your purse only to put it on Seonghwa's leg and ripping it along with his leg hair? And lastly, who would start a bet at someone's wedding? Oh yeah, your boyfriend.

"And what will you give me if I do catch the bouquet?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow with crossed arms as you leaned back on your seat. Yeosang pursed his lips for a moment before shrugging, "We can iron out the details later but for now, let's just say it's anything you want and same wager if you lose." "You're on," you pointed at him before standing up, leaning close to his face and squint your eyes, "Get ready to eat dirt, you no-good loser. Love you," you pecked his lips before skittering away to join the forming crowd, leaving Yeosang smirking in amusement.

San pulled Yeosang to get a closer look at you, standing a bit further away but close enough to see you clearly. "Look, she's standing a bit out, she's gonna lose this bet," Yeosang pointed at you to San who furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't know man, look at the determination in her eyes, she might kill someone to win your stupid bet," he stated. And true to what San said, you actually jumped into the air with no trouble despite your mid-length skirt and heels, catching the bouquet and landing safely in front of Yeosang, making eye-contact with him. Your boyfriend stared at you with widened eyes and when you raised an eyebrow at him before turning around to face the crowd, he could feel his lips curling into a grin, amused.

Laughing, San leaned back slightly and muttered to Yeosang, "You're so screwed man, she's gonna play you like a damn fiddle." And that's when Yeosang's grin fell.

san

Everything is truly fun and games in your relationship with San. In a good way, of course. He has a knack of finding the fun in everything, even the most serious situation.

"Honey, you have to get that bouquet," he panted after rushing from the dessert bar to your table. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "What are you talking about?" "The bouquet toss!! I heard Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa hyung are doing it so you have to do it too!" He said, grabbing your hand to tug you up. "Me? You're the competitive one, you do it!" You said, slapping his hand away to sip your champagne. San raised an eyebrow and spoke in a monotonous tone, "I heard Wooyoung saying you don't have it in you to win against them and the crowd." Well, that ticked you off just right. One second you were sipping your champagne, and the next, you downed the whole flute, "Move," you hissed, pushing San out of the way and stomp over to where they were preparing for the bouquet toss, San hot on your tail grinning like an idiot.

It wasn't even a real competition yet he was hyping you up like how a coach would. He even motioned for you to elbow Wooyoung and anyone else if you had to (which of course you won't because that's crazy, you're not an animal, and it's so not worth the hassle if you're charged with assault). But as much as he was excited for your participation, that excitement trippled when you really did catch the bouquet (and managed to "accidentally" knee Wooyoung in the gut). He couldn't help but run to you and spun you around. You grinned and let him hold you, liking the attention and utter pride San had for you. "That's my baby!" He exclaimed happily, causing people (mainly girls) to squeal and swoon at how sweet you two were being.

mingi

"Babe, what if I caught the bouquet?" You asked your boyfriend who had his eye on his cake but turned when you called him. "This bouquet?" He asked, pointing to the arrangement in the middle of the table. You chuckled and shook your head, "Sweetie, that's a centerpiece and I won't be able to catch that," you then nodded to the bride, "That's a bouquet and the thing she will be tossing. I wanna catch it," you stated determinedly. Mingi simply shrugged, "Then catch it, I'm rooting for you," he grinned, leaning down to peck your lips.

You knew you shouldn't expect anything, but you know the meaning of catching the bouquet. So in your wedding haze-infused head, you thought that it was Mingi's way of hinting about the future. Particularly your future together. So you excitedly skip over to join the others, determined to catch the bouquet and see if your boyfriend would do something about it.

Your determination proved to be fruitful because you did catch the bouquet and the moment you did, your friends (especially the male ones) went over to pat Mingi on the back and shook hands with him. He was looking around confusedly, not understanding why he was being congratulated when it was you who caught the bouquet. He wanted to ask you but you were still surrounded by people and there was no way he could get to you.

Thankfully, Hongjoong came over but judging from the smirk on his face, Mingi wasn't sure if he should be glad. "So happy for you man. When are you gonna do it?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi scoffed at his older friend and crossed his arms, "My sex life is not up for small talk, hyung. What are you, raised by animal?" Hongjoong rolled his eyes though he wasn't too surprised. "Not that, dumbass, I mean proposing! When are you gonna do it?" The confused look on Mingi's face was hilarious and concerning and to be frank, Hongjoong didn't know which he should address first. "You do know that catching the bouquet means that you're gonna be married next, right?" After hearing that, things started to make sense to Mingi.

Rushing to you once the crowd dispersed, you were surprised when Mingi grabbed your shoulders, "Does this mean I have to propose now?" You simply rolled your eyes and pat his cheeks, "Not right now sweetie, this is our friends' big day. But soon would be great and I hope it would be a grand gesture," you smiled sweetly and pecked his cheek before walking off to get a drink, leaving Mingi there dumbfounded.

wooyoung

It started off as a joke. You know your boyfriend and you know how he likes to play things cool like as if he doesn't care but he so does.

"I'm telling you, I will do it," you said seriously, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at him. "I know and I'm telling you go ahead," Wooyoung shrugged oh so simply with his arms also crossed in front of his chest. Quite frankly, you wanted him to be affected even if it's just slightly like raising his voice, squeaking, or even laugh like a damn witch possessed by a tea kettle. "I'm telling you, I will really do it," you took a step away from your boyfriend, closer to where people were gathering. But Wooyoung simply shrugged again, "Okay? Do you need me to change shoes with you? Trade outfits so you can move better?" Now he was starting to sound condescending so you simple huff and stomo away and as soon as you were away, Wooyoung cracked a smirk.

"You're going to hell for this," Seonghwa sighed as he sidled up next to Wooyoung who was watching you closely. There was still a stupid smirk on Wooyoung's face, "Might as well, hyung. It's about time hell has a new ruler." "You know this can potentially end badly right?" Seonghwa asked, "And a meteor could potentially hit earth at any given moment yet here we are still functioning as a society," Wooyoung said as he pat his hyung on the shoulder. Just as Seonghwa was about to answer, Wooyoung shushed him because the mc announced that the bouquet will be tossed and he wanted to see you succeeding.

As much as he was an ass, Wooyoung actually liked how you two interact. He loves you and he likes the relationship a lot. Which was why there were no question or hesitance to his plan.

It wouldn't even matter to him if you caught the bouquet or not but as it happens, luck was in his favour and you actually caught the bouquet. In the midst of your utter excitement what with cheering and jumping happily, you didn't even realize Wooyoung standing behind you until people started hushing and all eyes fell on you two. You turned around to see Wooyoung looking at you so intently and your eyes widened considerably followed by people gasping when Wooyoung got down on one knee slowly. "(y/n)..." He started, smiling gently at you which made your heart beat faster and eyes watering.

Then he looked down and tied his shoes before standing back up. "Come on, I wanna take a picture to show my mom," he nodded to the exit before walking away.

Not just you, but the whole crowd of bouquet toss participants were looking at you with their jaws slack while some people in the back (Yunho, Mingi, San, and Hongjoong) laughing their asses off.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You hissed as you followed him once you realized what had happened. Wooyoung was holding his laughter as best as he could, knowing that being riled up like this, you'd definitely like the surprise he has for you at home.

jongho

Never would anyone guessed that Jongho would be such a simp of a boyfriend. Then again, no one (his friends) thought he'd even be a boyfriend considering his aversion to skinship, cutesy talk, and any and all forms of love being displayed proudly.

"You're so disgustingly in love, it's sick," Wooyoung cringed, looking at how Jongho was looking at you with a dumb smile and lovestruck eyes. "Shut up hyung or else you'll die alone," he retorted, smile ever present and even widening when you turned to look and waved at him. "Can you not make googly eyes while she's about to seal your fate of marrying her? It's so... Simpy," Wooyoung stated again. Thankfully, Yeosang slapped his best friend on his neck to shut him up, "Let Jongho be happy with his premature engagement," it was then that Jongho realized that Yeosang was also making fun of him.

But he couldn't care less. He shrugged and crossed his arms, "If she wants that, I'll go buy a ring tomorrow," he challenged. Mingi then scoffed from his standing position behind Jongho, "You won't even buy me a candy ring, how are you gonna buy your girlfriend an engagement ring?" To which Jongho scrunched his eyebrows and turned to look at Mingi, "I think you just answered your own question."

No amount of noise could disturb how focused Jongho was on you. His eyes followed over your every move with curiosity, affection, and worry, a combination that got him teased endlessly by his friends. But it wasn't as bad as when you actually caught the bouquet and you immediately ran to your boyfriend who got out of his seat to wait for you with open arms.

"Jongho, look!" You showed him the bouquet with a happy grin on your face, "I caught this for you," you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Jongho chuckled at your adorableness and nodded, "Thank you, darling, I appreciate your effort," he said before pulling you by your waist back to your seats. "No fair, I got him whiskey just now and all he said was 'where's the ice?'. It's favouritism!" San whined. Jongho simply pushed his chair closer to yours and draped an arm around your shoulder to bring you close to him, "What can I say? You're not (y/n), hyung," he smirked before leaning down to whisper in your ears, "And I'm willing to give you anything you want," he said before pecking ypu on your cheek, making your whole body heat up at the insinuation. From both the sfw and nsfw spectrum.

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[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.

kinktober day three - dumbification

pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader

wc: 9.0k

summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!

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IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50. 

so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down. 

joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you. 

but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does. 

he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up. 

it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.

but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.

shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.

you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you. 

you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt. 

joel.

“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table. 

“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing. 

you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door. 

“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes. 

“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.

“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv. 

“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off. 

“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass. 

“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath. 

you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed. 

it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you. 

“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug. 

joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.

“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom. 

joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts. 

“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.

joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep. 

you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them. 

you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day. 

the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills. 

you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.

“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face. 

“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.  

you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly. 

“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.

“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his. 

“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly. 

“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.

you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you. 

he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments. 

“so damn pink,” 

“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”

“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?” 

which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him. 

but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything. 

“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it. 

“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. 

your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.

never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.

you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance. 

you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him. 

“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth. 

“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off. 

you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment. 

joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.

he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.

he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor. 

joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways. 

but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.

but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did. 

you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim. 

he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything. 

the opportunity showed itself, he just took it. 

now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight. 

you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.

he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically. 

he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole. 

he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum. 

he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt. 

“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do. 

“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now. 

“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more. 

“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so. 

“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room. 

“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite. 

“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently? 

“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side. 

“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him. 

“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him. 

“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass. 

“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead. 

“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished. 

he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be. 

“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed. 

“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you. 

“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.

“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.

“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth. 

“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?

“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions. 

“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask.  you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up. 

“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it. 

“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it. 

he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet. 

“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him. 

“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.

but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him. 

“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you. 

“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought. 

“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him. 

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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were? 

he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place. 

after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel. 

one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine. 

you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself. 

you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find. 

you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex. 

you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that. 

in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.

he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.  

you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.

“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered. 

“it’s joel,” he said and you paused. 

“joel?” you asked. 

 you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him. 

now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted. 

“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you. 

“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes. 

“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him. 

“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly. 

“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight. 

“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight. 

“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.

he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything. 

“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh. 

“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you. 

“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him. 

“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face. 

“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here. 

“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall. 

“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body. 

“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined. 

“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck. 

“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream. 

you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall. 

“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back. 

and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize. 

“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours. 

“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional? 

“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck. 

“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you. 

“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.

his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin. 

“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock. 

“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,” 

he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face. 

“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you. 

“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did. 

only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman. 

“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you. 

“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen. 

he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you. 

“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging. 

“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him. 

“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again. 

“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction. 

his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half. 

“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side. 

“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you. 

you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him. 

“just,” 

“he, ugh,” 

he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?” 

“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel. 

“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists. 

“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place. 

you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,” 

it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal. 

“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch. 

“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,” 

if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck. 

“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit. 

“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” 

he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it. 

“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs. 

“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off. 

“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you. 

“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath. 

“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb. 

you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him. 

it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you. 

your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling. 

“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees. 

“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass. 

“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you. 

he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him. 

“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle. 

“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy. 

“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?” 

“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him. 

he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him. 

“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air. 

“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched. 

you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists. 

he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct. 

it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up. 

“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest. 

“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released. 

“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job. 

“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer. 

“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice. 

“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you. 

“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper. 

his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body. 

“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself. 

“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey. 

the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands. 

you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you. 

“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck. 

“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing. 

you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak. 

“such a pretty girl,”

“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,” 

“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”

“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”

you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out. 

you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.

“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either. 

“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter. 

“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still. 

“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.

“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face. 

“i’ll help ya with that.” 

joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in. 

he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.

#plus size smut #chubby smut #plus size reader #joel miller #joel miller x plus sized reader #joel tlou #smut #chubby #joel the last of us #tlou series #tlou hbo #tlou joel #fat girls #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #female reader #october #halloween #fall

[dufferpuffer]

Longbottoms boggart wasn't Snape.

I mean you'd think this would be obvious enough - but people who hate Snape bring it up as their sort of trump card. "He was so bad he was a 13yr olds biggest fear!" No. He wasn't. Boggarts don't quite work like that. Boggarts are not themselves your worst fear - they make you FEEL your worst fear. Hermione isn't actually scared of McGonagall. (I'm sure alot of first years are scared of her though I mean she is strict and stern and a little scary at first.) Did she have some irrational fear of suddenly failing all her classes? Yeah, maybe a little bit - but it is BECAUSE she is scared of not being good enough. From the first book we see her struggling to fit in with her peers. She is muggleborn, she learned she was a witch so suddenly that she poured herself into being the most perfect witch she could.

Professor McGonagall, a stern and strict witch she respects, telling her she isn't good enough despite all of her best efforts makes her FEEL her worst fear. It has nothing to do with Minerva personally - honestly it could probably be replaced with Dumbledore or someone... its just she has far more interaction with Minerva.

SO - Longbottom and Snape: How do I know that Snape isn't his absolute worst fear? Because he still attends Potions every fucking week!!! Do you think RON could attend Charms if it was run by a spider?!? He can pass Snape in the hall, he can sit in the same room as Snape, he can even be teased and bullied by Snape. His parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. Severus Snape is NOT his worst fear, that's stupid. Snape just makes him FEEL his worst fear - like McGonagall makes Hermione feel hers. SO what is Neville worst fear? I think the clue comes with him quickly saying that he also wouldn't want the Boggart to turn into his grandma. Inadequacy. Neville has never been good enough. He has low self worth. The tiniest bits of praise overwhelm him. He never wins any house points and losing some devastates him. He got his magic late, his family kept trying to tease it out of him, thought he was maybe a squib. He has a proud legacy to uphold and he is terrified he cannot. He is the worst potions student Snape has ever had.

Snape makes Neville feel inadequate. His grandmother makes him feel inadequate. But mix them together... and suddenly these two very scary people that seem to have such control over his life... look a little ridiculous.

DO you think Lupin is LITERALLY scared of the moon...? Or does the moon make him feel powerless and dangerous and inhumane? DO you think Harry is LITERALLY scared of Dementors...? Or is he scared of how powerless he is against the horrible way they make him feel - the trauma they bring up from the deep recesses of his mind?

Snape was not so horrific, so awful, so scary, so mean - that he as a man became Nevile's worst fear. He, like his grandma, makes him feel inadequate.

#neville longbottom #severus snape #is say headcanon but no this is just canon #people need better media literacy #heres a headcanon though: Lupin actually is a little sacred of the moon. he blocks the sight of it with his hand if he goes out at night. #hp #hermione granger #remus lupin #harry potter

[weird-is-life]

Please be careful

Pairing: Hockey!James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James gets injured during one of his hockey games and he's desperate to see you

Warnings: angsty, fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, mentions of concussion, hospitals...

Words: 0.9k

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

It was supposed to be a normal, regular hockey game with James as the captain for the game. And you,  unfortunately, couldn't attend it, so you were hoping for a happy phone call from James.

Instead, you get a phone call from Remus and you instantly know, that something is wrong.

But you don't expect it to be that bad. Apparently, James got slammed into the boards by another player. Though, that's not unusual for hockey games, you've seen James get boarded plenty of times.

But James's helmet was not tightened properly and as he got pushed into the boards, it slipped off of his head, meaning James bumped his head hard.

James is stable, he has a pretty bad concussion and keeps loosing his consciousness, but he is stable.

You try not to panic, as you listen to Remus explain. But it's hard not to. You don't know, what you'd do If something happened to him.

You will those scary, irrational thoughts away and rush to the hospital. When you get there, Remus is waiting for you outside.

You immediately go give him a tight hug.

"How's he?" you ask with a worry, while you quickly follow him towards James's door.

"He's okay, still disoriented. But okay,  he's got some painkillers for the headache, so keeps falling asleep," Remus reassures you, he would feel the same panic, you feel right now, if it wasn't for Sirius being by his side the whole time.

"He's been constantly asking for you, you know," Remus adds with a smile, "like every single time he wakes up, it's your name he says first."

"Really?" you smile at him back, it lifts your mood up a little, hearing that James's been asking for you.

"Yeah, really. Now c'mon, let's go inside. I know, there's at least one person in there that can't wait to see you," Remus means James, but also Sirius.

Sirius may seem like he's a really tough guy, when in fact he is actually the biggest softie. He instantly goes to hug you, too.

Another fact about Sirius is that, he gives bone-crushing hugs, that leave you almost aching. You can't say you hate them, they are comforting. So his tight hug is exactly, what you need, to calm your racing heart completely.

When you pull away, your gaze lands on James's lying figure. He looks almost the same as he usually does sleeping, except for the quite big gash over his forehead.

You go sit in the chair next to his bed. "Hi, Jamie," you whisper, as you take his hand into both of yours," you scared the shit out of me."

You chuckle quietly and wipe away, the one tear that escapes from your eye. You lift James hand up to your lips and kiss the back of it, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

The guys leave you alone with James to go get something to eat, which you are thankful for. Because you can finally get a minute only just for yourself to breath it all through.

With your eyes closed as you take one big breath in after another, you don't notice James's eyelids opening.

That cheeky bastard, stays quiet for a few minutes, just looking at you and smiling happily to himself. He's over the moon, that you are finally there.

"H-hi, my love," he croaks out with a groggy voice from the sleep.

Your eyes shoot open, widening when you see him smiling at you," James!"

"You're awake...How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Is your head spinning?Do you need some more painkiller...-?" you stress, but James interrupts you.

"Lovely....-" he starts, but you ignore it.

"Or-or should I go get some nurse?" you ask him nervously, already getting up to leave.

"Y/N," he says your name to finally get your attention.

"Yeah, Jamie?"

"Just breath, yeah?" he squeezes your hand, " I'm perfectly okay, now that you're hear." He knows, he must have scared you pretty badly. I mean, he was a bit scared himself to be honest.

You do as he tells you and make your worrying stop," a-are you sure, you don't need anything?"

"Actually, there's one thing," he says, cheeky smile already painting his bruised handsome face.

"Anything...."

"I could really, really use a hug from my best girl, right now," you hesitate for a second, not wanting to hurt him any more, then he already is.

But James has none of it, he pulls you by your hands towards him, basically pulling you into his lap.

"James!" you giggle at his action, but finally close to him, you give in. You tightly embrace him, hiding your face into his chest.

"I thought, we'd agreed, that no injuries for you," you mumble into his chest. Your heart still goes fast from the worry and you're pretty sure that James knows, because his hold on you tightens a bit.

"I know, I'm sorry pretty. I'm so sorry, I scared you," James mumbles back and kisses you on the top of your head. He shouldn't have done that, because his head starts to spin from bending down to kiss you. He doesn't tell you that, though.

"It's okay, I know it wasn't your fault. But please be more careful next time?" you ask innocently, rubbing your hand up and down his back.

"I'll try," James promises.

"Good."

"Good." You stay quiet for a longer moment, just processing that James's really okay. Even if he's a bit bruised.

"I love you, you know that?" James whispers lovingly.

"Of course, I know. I love you, too."

You stay cuddled up on James's bed, until the nurse comes and looks at you two very sternly, which has you climbing off of him and the bed in a matter of seconds.

#james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter

[cod-dump]

Step dad Graves is so so funny. Especially if they’re close in age and both secretly love it whilst putting up a fuss. Let Ghost collect father figures and Graves get to impart knowledge . Let Graves hate it at first then get some Ghost lore and be like “…I’m not your stepdad I’m only 6 years older than you…… what do you mean you never had a birthday cake…… what do you mean you were made to laugh at a dying prostitute…… “well guess I’m getting this man a skull cake and we’re playing catch in the yard

The more Graves learned about Ghost the harder it was to pretend he didn’t like him.

They were barely friendly when they worked together going after Hassan and Graves’ betrayal ruined whatever that was. Graves cutting ties with Shepherd and fully working with 141 (to atone for his past and right wrongs all while being able to still work) Ghost had greeted him with much expected hostility.

And Graves responded with indifference. He figured things would stay that way, Ghost would never let go what happened and Graves would never show any care for the man beyond comrades. But then Graves started learning bits and pieces about him, the longer they were around each other the more Ghost started to start talking to him with actual conversations instead of threats. That’s how Graves learned about his fear of snakes. The Ghost, the man who would pick up a fucking spider bare handed, an animal lover to the core, was terrified of snakes.

Graves discovered this during a mission together. They had spent that time in that forest in almost complete silence, waiting for Price to give them the go ahead, when the fearsome Ghost jolted where he laid, flinging something into the bushes nearby before moving away from the spot he had laid in without even moving an inch for two hours.

“Fucking devilish bitch!”

Graves saw the tail end of a snake darting away, and that was when he learned about Ghost’s fear. And that would open up to him learning a lot more about Ghost, more than he ever imagined due to their not so friendly work environment. He, of course, originally was going to taunt Ghost over his rather surprising fear, planning to exploit it until it was no longer effective.

But, of course, he would learn something else related to the snake. Ghost seemingly was deep in his mind after running in with the limbless creature, and he offered up a explanation for his irrational fear (irrational considering all the other creatures he adores).

“Old man liked to force them in my face. Thought how I squirmed was hilarious.”

And just like that, after that piece of information was processed, Ghost didn’t say another word. Graves was left with that piece of history involving Ghost he never expected to learn, let alone from Ghost himself. And after that, Ghost seemed to open up to him more. Graves would like to think he heard himself some leeway with Ghost by not going through with his original intentions on teasing him. It was the only thing that made sense as to why Ghost was starting to warm up to him.

Warming up to him to the point he was willingly offering up more of his lore.

“Don’t like crowds, especially not in dark places.”

He dropped that on another mission, completely unprompted. It was a mutter just for Graves to hear, even though Gaz wasn’t far away. That made something stir within him, something about Ghost just telling him something instead of a man who he is considerably much closer with. And that slight tug of his heart strings became pulling when he learned why he didn’t like crowds. And his old man was behind the reason as well.

The more Graves learned about Ghost, the more he hated his probably long dead father. There was a twisted similarity to Mr. Riley and Graves’ own father. And that just made him become protective of Ghost. He started treating Ghost like he did his Shadows. He was pretty much Shadow materiel with skill and efficiency, but now he was a Shadow to Graves because of what he went through.

Graves had a type he went for when recruiting Shadows. He looked for skill, experience, attitude — But he also looked at their history. He has a soft spot for those with bad home lives, made him feel more connected with them. If he was looking over Ghost’s records with the intention of recruiting him into Shadow Company, man would’ve been a Shadow after he learned about Roba.

“Since when are you two friends?” Soap had questioned, Graves noticing the jealousy in his voice but also the curiosity.

“I can understand his accent better,” Ghost jabbed at Soap, his eyes squinting slightly to show he was smiling under his mask.

Soap made a very insulted gasp, “Oh, is that so?”

Graves felt at place finally, standing next to Ghost as he and Soap bickered. It turned playful rather quickly and Graves felt more at ease next to Soap than he had since they first met. And, dare he even think it, Ghost felt comfortable standing next to him. Finally opening up, finally dropping his metaphorical mask of hostility (Graves doubts he’ll take off his actual mask any time soon).

And, of course Price noticed. He noticed a while back, Graves knows he had. Man knows anything that has to do with his boys, especially Ghost. He hadn’t said a word, never hinted in any way to show he knew. He just acted like it had always been. It was like he wasn’t even surprised. Goes to show he knew Ghost was better than anyone.

“Good to see you two finally getting along,” Price said to Graves one evening, the two had long retired to bed while the boys stayed up playing cards (not UNO, they would be enemies before morning and it would take a few days to get them to drop the pettiness).

Graves hummed, taking a moment to realize what Price was talking about. He didn’t expect him to say anything without Graves mentioning it first.

“We’re tolerating each other.”

Price hummed back, slight smirk on his lips. He knew. He knew that Graves considers Ghost as one of his Shadows. As one of his boys.

#call of duty #modern warfare #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #simon ghost riley #phillip graves #john soap mactavish #ficlet #drabble #pricegraves

[thegoldencontracts]

I can make a request for Azul x Reader who confesses to him, but asks him to reject their feelings because they thinks he doesn't return their feelings and thinks he wouldn't date someone like them? Make it have a fluffy ending please!!!

Of course! Thank you for requestingg <3

Irrationality, Love

Summary: Azul never could help the irrational way he acted around you. An unexpected confession helps him sort himself out.

Notes: A dash of angst(?), I'm soo sorry to you anon I think I got a bit too self-indulgent with the prompt

You were an odd person. You weren't meant to be, that was the problem. You were average. No particularly remarkable talents or privileges to set you apart- at least, not when compared to the highly eccentric students of Night Raven.

And yet, you made Azul act in an infuriatingly irrational way. His heart raced, his face flushed, his head rushed. Seeing you in the hallways, he couldn't help but stare.

Your eyes, your hair, your lips- they were all tantalizing. Were they really, though? Or was that merely a part of the odd curse you'd set upon him, for him to be doomed to admire you no matter what?

It was an odd, addicting feeling. Why was it addicting? Why did he so crave the sight of your visage? He didn't even know.

He still remembered the first time he'd met you. Well, 'met' was a generous way to put it.

You'd been dining at the Lounge one day, and he'd been observing to make sure things were running smoothly.

But the moment he saw you, that turned into observing your face.

For quite a while. You seemed to sparkle, to shine. He couldn't look away.

Then, you met his gaze.

"Uh- is something the matter?" You asked, tilting your head in a confused manner that looked positively adorable. Wait, no, he wasn't supposed to think that.

"I don't understand what you're asking," Azul said, plastering his face with a condescending grin, before feigning a look of shock. "Oh, did you believe I was looking at you? Odd. I assure you, that wasn't the case. Apologies for souring your experience."

He had to save face. He was Azul Ashengrotto, the mercantile housewarden of Octavinelle. His ruthless yet elegant demeanor had garnered him fear and reverence alike throughout the school. He couldn't just throw that away over- this!

You seemed to accept that answer. Azul hastily left, only letting himself let out his long suppressed sigh of frustration after entering his room.

From next to him, Jade grinned.

"You seem out of sorts," he said, with the look of a predator analysing every weakness in their prey. Azul loathed having that look directed at him; he'd much rather Jade save it fort the clients.

"Shut it."

Jade merely laughed.

"I'm going to handle this- illness of mine, I assure you," Azul said, and Jade actually seemed confused at that. No matter. Azul wouldn't let himself be made a fool of. He couldn't.

Since then, he'd attempted to avoid you, though he'd failed quite a few times. More than quite a few times, in fact. Against his wishes and yet in compliance with them at the same time, you two'd grown closer, and the pounding of his heart around you only seemed to increase.

"Can't believe you're doing this for free, Azul," you said during one of your joint study-sessions, an impish grin on your face. "Is big bad Azul trying to make friends with someone? How shocking!"

Azul didn't know why, but the thought of you two being friends made him upset in a way that signalled that he wanted something more. What more could he possibly want? And why were you implying he was acting out of sentiment?

"P-Preposterous," he said, though his face was flushed. "I don't have friends, only business partners. A-and this is a mutually beneficial business exchange."

You just laughed.

"I never knew you could be so cute, Azul."

What was that supposed to mean? He wasn't cute, he was a businessman! A highly intimidating, refined businessman!

"F-Focus," he said. Why did he keep stuttering? This was all so odd. He only did this around you. He'd tried to get away, and yet he couldn't bring himself to? Why?

"Of course," you said, and that was it for your teasing. Well, for that study session, at least. It seemed like you'd never stop teasing him.

One day, however, you approached him in private, an uncharacteristically somber expression on your face. He wanted to wipe it off, to bring that impish grin back.

"I, uh, have something to tell you," you said, gaze downcast.

"What is it?"

"I love you," you said, as if it was nothing, as if you hadn't just brought a thousand questions to the forefront of his mind. You spoke once more after a few seconds. "...You can reject me now."

You'd been expecting rejection? Could he even reject you, when your confession had brought an answer to the question he'd had for ages?

Love. Was that the odd emotion you'd made him feel all along? It made sense.

"I assure you, you mustn't -"

"Don't try that customer service crap on me. I know you too well." A laugh and a choked sob, all at once. "I know that you're smart, hard-working, adorable and handsome at the same time, ambitious, strong, and just about a hundred other positive adjectives. And look-"

A tear fell from your right eye. It wasn't dramatic or even noticeable at a glance, but it was more heartbreaking than any cinematic breakdown.

"Look at me." Your words were naught but a cracked whisper. "I never stood a chance."

You'd expected rejection, but that wasn't what he was going to give. Azul had repressed his emotions, and that had hurt you. He couldn't let that happen. Not anymore.

Azul steeled himself.

"You're being much too hard on yourself," he chided. "And much too kind about me. If you think I don't return your feelings, then you're mistaken."

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock.

"You're joking, you've gotta be-"

In a fit of what he could only give the shameful label of primal instinct, Azul pulled you in by the tie of your uniform for a kiss.

Long, passionate, and greedy - though he was disappointed at the lack of internal fireworks that Idia's visual novels had promised him, it was lovely.

Azul pulled back after a while, leaving both of you breathless.

"Does that make my stance on the matter clear?" He said, and you nodded shakily. He was thankful for that, because he couldn't imagine having to say the words 'I love you' aloud.

"We're dating, then?" You said, a hopeful shine in your eyes.

He grinned.

"I'd love that."

Bonus:

"You've finally managed to overcome your emotional waterlogging, Azul? I couldn't be more proud."

"Yeah, little Azul's all~ grown up!"

"Hush, you," Azul said, before he realized.

"How long have you known?"

"Since you two first met," Jade said as if they were nothing.

Eh?

They'd known for- for that long? He'd been that obvious? How had he not noticed earlier? This was insane! He was slipping, and-

"Is something the matter, Azul?"

"I think you broke him."

#azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #azul ashengrotto x you #azul x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x you #fluff #twst #light angst #hurt/comfort

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

[holllandtrash]

hard truths | mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x leclerc!reader part 2 to disapproval - read part 1 here

after charles' comment sent you spiralling, you realize that the only person you can truly rely on is the one who will never be deemed good enough in your brothers' eyes, but that doesn't mean he's giving up on you.

word count: 3.4k warnings: none again except kind of asshole brother charles and a bit of poorly translated french, so sry

There was no way you could take Charles' call, not right now, not after just waking up and seeing that comment. You didn’t want to hear his half-assed, hungover apology. It wouldn’t mean anything.

All you could do was sit up in bed, the hotels’ white duvet pooled around your waist as you waited for Mick to get out of the shower, which seemed to take an eternity. When he did finally open the door, a cloud of steam following him, not even the sight of a towel sitting painfully low around his hips was enough to distract you. Your thoughts were too preoccupied on how the media was going to undoubtedly spin this. 

“What happened?” Mick asked, knowing right away that something was wrong. He recognized the strained look on your face and when you glanced up from your phone, his heart shattered at the sound of your timid inhale. 

As you started to explain the chaos that you woke up to, Mick began to get dressed. When you started going off for what seemed like the five hundredth about why your brothers were such assholes, he gave you his undivided attention as if this was the first time you were complaining about them. 

Mick always knew what to do and say. He knew that you preferred to be heard than to be given advice. He knew that when you were angry, especially at one of your brothers, the best thing that he could do was show you that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

He let you pace back and forth in the hotel room as you started transferring your fears into spoken word, which was something that Mick had actually encouraged you to do months ago. He said that voicing your thoughts helped you realise how irrational they were, and you had to admit, he had a point.

But this time was different. You knew it. Mick knew it. Your worries were valid.

Mick suggested that the two of you head to the next race location earlier than everyone else. Not only could you take a few days to relax before needing to see Charles in the paddock, but it was also Monaco, your home. Your apartment was there, your friends were there, you’d feel more at ease in the comfort of your bed than you would in another hotel room.

So you packed up your bags and Mick called the front desk to have his car brought around front. The drive was a few hours, but maybe that was for the best. Five hours in a car with Mick seemed ideal, especially when you thought about turning your phone on airplane mode to silence out the rest of the world. 

Mick grabbed both your luggage and his, rolling them behind him as you made your way to the elevator. When you stepped inside, you briefly checked in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look like a complete disaster, but before you could reach for concealer or mascara, Mick leaned down and kissed your cheek, not needing to say anything. That simple gesture alone meant that he would always think you looked beautiful.

The ride down to the main floor was tedious itself, but when the elevator doors finally opened, time froze.

Standing there, waiting to enter to presumably go up to his own room, was Charles. The dark bags under his eyes and the energy drink clenched in his hand gave away just how much last night had affected him. But regardless of how exhausted he looked, there wasn’t a single ounce of remorse on his face.

Nothing that indicated he felt even a little sorry for that comment. 

He just stared at you, lips slightly parted as if he was going to say something but there was nothing for him to say. His eyes darted towards Mick who had tensed up the second he spotted your brother, but Mick didn’t say anything either.

There was a lot he probably wanted to say but this wasn’t Mick’s place to intervene, not yet at least.

The elevator doors tried to close because of the lack of movement in the cart but you were quick to slam the palm of your hand against it to activate the sensor, keeping the doors open. Charles flinched, as if thinking you were about to hit him. You should have. 

“Nothing?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “You have absolutely nothing to say?” 

“Oh now you want me to say something?” Charles raised his voice, not bothered by the handful of people in the lobby that were within earshot. “I tried calling you earlier and you didn’t answer!”

“I had just woken up!” You yelled back and Mick raised his hand to your back, a gentle reminder that now was not the time nor place to start a screaming match with your brother. 

You glanced up at Mick who’s glare was still firmly locked on Charles and you shook your head helplessly, looking back at the person who was supposed to be there for you, supposed to support you and be happy for you. He was family for christ sakes.

Your phone chimed again, another notification that would certainly cause your blood to boil should you choose to open it.

“Media’s going insane with this. C'est ton problème. À toi de le réparer.” This is your mess, it’s up to you to fix it. You jabbed your finger against his chest and Charles backed up, not saying another word as he stepped out of the way for you and Mick to exit the elevator.

Mick grabbed the two suitcases and led the way towards the front door. You made sure to keep your head down. Even though this hotel was rooming mostly drivers and people from various teams, the last thing you needed was to be bombarded with questionable stares. 

When you finally got into the car, Mick reached across the middle console to rest his hand on your thigh. You knew it would stay there for most, if not all of the ride. When he offered for you to pick the playlist, nothing came to mind.

Feeling defeated and helpless in this situation, Mick put on a playlist the two of you had created together and gave your leg a firm squeeze. When you glanced in his direction, Mick leaned forward to crash his mouth against yours.

You hated PDA and you knew that his windows weren’t well tinted, but at the moment you didn’t care who outside the car saw you kissing your boyfriend. If anything, this was a giant fuck you to your brother. His immature comment and lack of brain cells wasn’t going to stop you from being with the man you loved.

You just hoped this would all blow over soon.

“A fucking Instagram story apology?” You screamed at Charles through the phone about a minute after you stepped into your apartment, switching between cursing him out in French and English. Mick picked up on a few words here and there but he kept raising his eyebrows when he had no idea what it was you were saying.

“What else do you want me to do?” Charles yelled back, his voice was muffled and there was a lot of noise in the back. Wherever he was, it meant he wasn’t giving this situation the attention it deserved. 

“I want you to not lie on social media and put some fucking effort into getting along with Mick!”

You made the mistake of trying to unpack while on the phone with your brother because every few seconds, whatever you had in your hands would just get crumpled between your fist or you’d throw it out of anger. 

Mick stepped towards you, taking your hand in his to unclench your fingers to release the shirt you were currently digging your nails into. He gave you a look that basically said stop trying to multitask, you suck at it.

“Give me one good reason why you don’t approve of me dating him,” You ordered and Charles went silent on the phone. You waited about twenty seconds before you scoffed into the receiver, “Tu ne peux pas." You can’t.

Finally, Charles blurted out, “He’s older than you.”

“By two years.”

“He doesn’t have a career.”

“Maybe he’s not currently driving but that doesn't mean he’s done for good,” you retorted, standing up for your boyfriend. 

“He can’t support you.”

“I can support myself.”

You heard Charles sigh loudly, “You shouldn’t be dating a driver, Y/N, okay?”

“Just because you were a shitty boyfriend to your ex-girlfriends doesn’t mean Mick is going to treat me poorly too.” 

Mick’s eyes went wide at that comment. It wasn’t like you to bring up his past and you both knew how delicate of a topic his relationships were. No one in the family talked about what happened, Charles kept it to himself. But between you and your other brothers, you sort of put two and two together that whatever happened was his fault. 

Mick reached for your hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you to stand between his legs. He ran his fingers over the back of your legs, the light touch making you shiver, but he knew you needed this type of comfort right now. 

You draped your arm over his shoulder, lazily sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as you waited for Charles’ response, but all you could hear was quiet breaths and voices in the background. 

“Charles, I don’t know what happened in your relationships,” you started off hesitantly, “but whatever fear you have, whatever you did…Mick isn’t the same guy. He’s not you, he’s-”

“Better,” Charles said under his breath and you actually chuckled. Mick heard it too and smiled.

“I mean, yeah,” you agreed and Mick tried to hide his laughter by reaching for your hand, kissing the back of it. “And I get it, you want to protect me but this isn’t how you go about it. You’ve just been cruel and closed off and you haven’t even tried to see Mick for the guy he is. Do you even know how happy he makes me?”

Charles went silent again. That could have meant two things. Either he truly disassociated himself from your relationship and had absolutely no idea the smile Mick brought to your face, the joy he brought into your life. Or Charles saw everything and he could see how much Mick meant to you, even if he tried to ignore it. 

You looked directly at Mick, resting your palm against the side of his cheek, “I love him.”

Mick’s blue eyes quite literally sparkled. He mouthed the words back to you. ‘I love you.’ 

The next thing you heard was the dial tone.

Mick heard Charles’ hang up and he took the phone from your hands before you could throw it or break it or crush it between your fingers, which he was confident you could do. He tossed it onto the bed behind him and pulled you onto his lap.

“I don’t get it,” you whispered, eyes starting to gloss over. “I don’t want to keep having this conversation with him. I want him to be happy for me, for us.”

“I know,” Mick nodded, the worry lines in his forehead coming back as his eyes darted all over face, thinking of the ways he could try to make things better. 

“And I don’t need his approval but-”

“But you want it,” Mick could read your thoughts, he knew you so well. “He’s your brother, it makes sense.”

“I don’t even want to go to the race this weekend if he’s going to be acting like this.”

“You don’t need to,” he backed up that idea without any hesitation. “Why support him when he can’t do the same for you?”

But that felt wrong. You had a huge heart, you loved Charles and you wanted to see him succeed and especially in Monaco of all places. Not being there for this race just seemed so horrible. 

And people would definitely speculate if you weren’t there to cheer your own brother on. 

“I have to,” you eventually said. 

“You have a few days to decide.”

Mick titled his chin upwards to press a kiss to your cheek. Obviously it made you smile and that smile only grew when he continued to pepper quick kisses all over your face. Your hold around his shoulders tightened and you pushed him backwards so he landed face up on the mattress with you still on top of him.

“I love you,” he told you, his gaze dropping from your eyes to land on your lips for just a second before looking up again. “I will always love you, Y/N. Nothing is going to get in the way of that, I promise.”

“Not even stupid brothers?” You asked and Mick chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not even stupid brothers.”

You dropped your forehead to rest against his, letting your hair fall around his face. Mick slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt and the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin sent a chill down your spine in the most comforting way. Your nose nudged against his and just like every other time before this, when he kissed you, your entire body felt like it was on fire. 

Mick had the ability to light a match within you from just a simple touch. You were electrified when you were with him and you couldn’t get enough. 

He pushed your shirt further up as your kiss deepened. His tongue traced your lips, just enough to leave you breathless and Mick took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You could practically taste the coffee he was drinking in the car and you loved it. 

You sat up suddenly, giving yourself a few seconds to pull your shirt off because it was bound to come off anyway. You tossed it behind you and Mick pushed himself up as well, attaching his lips to your throat. Your head rolled back when his teeth grazed over your skin and you knew that if you didn’t stop him, he would leave a mark. 

But you just tugged your fingers through his hair, your faint moan encouraging him to keep going. You didn’t care what people would think if your makeup failed to cover it. Let them know how much you love Mick. You wanted people to know that you were his and that wasn’t going to change.

Mick trailed his lips upwards, his kisses were soft in comparison to the merciless sucking on your neck a few seconds prior and the contrast was driving you insane. 

He was the sweetest, most caring guy you had ever met. With kind eyes and a heart bigger than anyone deserved, Mick was truly the most lovable person on this planet.

But good god there was another side to him. A side you only ever saw when it was just the two of you alone and you craved it. He had the ability to flip a literal switch and take complete control over you. Mick would have you begging in seconds, he knew exactly how to please you and how to leave you wanting more. 

Which is why you were more than irritated when his phone started ringing in his pocket. You could feel the vibration against your leg and you pleaded for him to just let it go to voicemail. 

Mick laughed against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot right below your ear, “You know I’d love to sweetheart but-”

“-but you can’t,” you groaned, finishing the thought for him. Just because he wasn’t a full time driver didn’t mean he got out of F1 obligations. You adjusted yourself on his lap so he could pull his phone out. Charlotte’s name lit up the screen, head of PR for Mercedes. 

Mick answered the phone, still keeping his other hand on your waist. You overheard some of the conversation just from being in close proximity but when Charlotte asked if Mick could join a Zoom meeting, you rolled your eyes.

“Say no,” you whispered, wanting to get back to what you were doing. 

Mick covered the speaker with his hand, “I can’t say no. Mercedes has to do a bit of damage control before the race this weekend.” 

You groaned loudly and you were certain you heard Charlotte laugh from the other end of the call. Mick kissed your cheek before you climbed off of him, reaching for your shirt to put back on. 

“Blame your brother,” Mick told you as he grabbed his laptop from his backpack, heading into your office. He shut the door behind him and you just knew you wouldn’t see him again for at least three hours.

You reached for your phone and flopped yourself on the bed. As much as you should have been staying off social media, you couldn’t help but wonder what people were saying about this whole situation.

It was endearing, and slightly humorous, to see that some fans hated Charles’ apology as much as you did. But it was painful knowing that they too saw the distaste your brother had for Mick. 

When you opened instagram, you noticed that Charles had deleted his story post. He probably did that after you told him how horrible it was. However, it just meant that there was still a mess he had to clean up. 

You didn’t like how the conversation with him ended. He hung up so abruptly. And even though that was not the first time he’d done that, you didn’t want him to get away with it. The two of you needed to talk, you needed to put an end to this bullshit.

So you called him, only for it to go right to voicemail. 

You waited a bit and called again, same thing. 

Not wanting to get too in your head about it, you reached for the remote to turn the tv on. If Mick was going to be in meetings for the better part of the evening, you could at least catch up on some shows.

As the day went on, you kept trying to get a hold of Charles, but to no avail. Eventually you texted the one person who should have at least had an idea as to where he was.

Defeated, you tossed your phone aside. You got up out of bed and made your way down the hall. The door to your office was still shut but you pushed it open the slightest bit. When the hinges squeaked, Mick turned around in the chair and smiled at you. 

There was something so humbling about seeing your Formula 1 driver boyfriend sit at your pastel pink desk with the cheesiest grin on his face. 

“Almost done, I promise,” he told you, glancing at his watch. What you assumed would be a three hour meeting had turned into a five hour one, but at this point they were probably discussing everything for the week so Mick could spend more time with you before the race weekend.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you said, blowing him a kiss. Mick reached his hand up in the air, pretending to catch said kiss.

“I’ll order us something to eat, yeah?” he suggested, grabbing his phone. You nodded in agreement to that idea before retreating out of the office. 

There wasn’t much to do as you waited for Mick to finish up so you started tidying up. Your apartment wasn’t messy by any means but you had to distract yourself. Otherwise you’d just start thinking about what Charles is up to and why he wasn’t answering your calls and you didn't want to pull Mick away from his work to help you out of whatever self-destructed spiral you would surely fall into. 

When there was a knock on the door, you paused. Usually delivery drivers would use the intercom buzzer on the main level to gain entry into your building. You also weren’t sure how the food managed to be prepared and delivered so quickly.

“Mick!” You called out. “Did you give the delivery driver my access code?” 

There was no answer, but there was another knock at the door.

Not wanting the food to get cold, you reached for the door handle and pulled it open. 

Only, it wasn’t food.

And for the second time in less than twelve hours, your older brother’s unpredictable actions had left you feeling a little confused and terribly surprised as you came face to face with the man whose eyes bore so much resemblance to yours.

part 3 here

---

tag list @spicyclover @leclerc16s @totally-random-person @majx00 @lighttsoutlewis @ellethewitchbitch @grimmducky @lucyhotchner @clintsupremacy @sussyzee @fock-smash @that-aesthetic-chic @alma23f1 @sbgal @h0e-xoxo @ivegotparticulartaste @sachaa-ff @emiiarmenn @konsti081 @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @melagemo0263

#mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher instagram edit #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #f1 social media au #f1 one shot #f1 requests #f1 #charles leclerc

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

The case of live-action atla zutara.

First of all, the scarf scene. I won't be repeating myself, here are some main points - there was absolutely no reason for Zuko to act the way he did and for the scene to be shot this dramatically. Even if they did the shipbaiting in this scene - it means there's a ship which is much more than live-action kataang has at this point. Also I don't really think these guys are shipbaiting type but that's just the impression I got.

Then - the second obvious one - Oma and Shu's visuals. We have star-crossed lovers from two towns at war, basically the local equivalent of Romeo and Juliet (as in legendary lovers who are known above all for their love) wearing coincidentally colors that are primarily associated with two of our characters (who shared this dramatically shot scene in the previous episode).

And I know, it may seem so insignificant - but but but but! - you have to think about this. Of course there are creators, writers and showrunners that are unaware of some non-canon ships or don't care about them. But it's not the case for atla. No, creators of atla were so aware of zutara - they wrote a parody scene in a in-world trashy play to mock this fan pairing and it still proved absolutely nothing and just gave zutara more content. The creators and writers of this adaptation clearly had the discussion "what we should do with kataang" - because there is no trace of kataang in the 1st season. So it was a conscious decision to omit that - but where would the romantic subplot go? Well, I don't know, but they are showrunners, they most certainly discussed options. They are clearly very, very, very much aware of zutara. And they still do this? They still show us Oma and Shu wearing red and blue? All they had to do is to give at least one of them any different color. Any. But they didn't. (for fuck sake, it is the Earth Kingdom - yellow and green would do it)

There were zero, no, nada Kataang interactions, implications or those scenes that are filmed just a little bit too dramatically like the scarf one. I don't know, there's still a chance that they will wait for season 3 to make Aang's crush on Katara happen. I'm also not so sure what will happen to Aang failing to open seventh chakra, I mean - his love for Katara has a huge purpose in series, so it still doesn't look very good. But you can't even imagine how glad I am that they didn't do this secret tunnel thing. It was very uncomfortable.

So it was the more fact-based part of my case, let's get to the irrational, almost delusional part, tin foil hat probably needed.

Almost all the scenes Zuko and Katara shared in the first season kept reminding me of another famous enemies-to-lovers ship that actually became canon in the infamous final episode - Reylo, the way it was filmed in The Force Awakens. I mean - the first fight in the woods where she looses, the intensity of him staring at her, the final fight in snowy location where she kicks his ass and shows her mastering this superpower, him trying to talk to her during this fight and mentioning her learning/having to learn...Zuko calling Katara a peasant reminded me of this "Rey is no one" discourse. I don't know man, I haven't thought about The Force Awakens reylo for a very long time and it just kept popping in my head.

All of this - it's like a blueprint for enemies to lovers.

Also I actually think that the look they shared in the 2nd episode was also shot kinda weirdly and dramatically. It's not to the extent of the scarf scene but I do remember thinking that "why did they film it they way? it's too intense".

In the conclusion I'd like to say that as much as I like all the season 1 zutara stuff they left out in the adaptation - necklace subplot and implications, pirates and the famous "You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" - I think I actually prefer the scarf scene. Yes, it would be so great to see those things in adaptation but in the end of the day they would still be just the things they kept from the original and probably noting more. Like the cabbages or the secret tunnel song or anything else, just things from the source material that implicate nothing. While the scarf scene, the Oma and Shu's clothes - it means they made a conscious decision to make it that way. It means they put some thought into that and some meaning. And this gives me hope there's a chance for Zutara in this adaptation.

P.S. I told about this my sister who hasn't watch the series yet and she said "I think people who made this show are just shipping zutara in secret". I do not necessarily imply she might be right - but creators of animated series (the very same people that made kataang canon, not zutara) DID leave because of some creative differences and because they couldn't control creative decision. Might as well be THAT kind of decision.

#finally got it all out of my system #this whole thing just screams: Coincidence? I think NOT! #but seriously #can we have this one? #zutara #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla spoilers #netflix atla

[venusxstars]

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄 ⸻ nsfw.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader

nagi just thinks that you feel so good. nothing else other than that matters.

keynotes ⸻ reader with implied sagging breasts. implied body insecurities. breast fondling / sucking. fingering. penetration.

venus’ note ⸻ boobs of all different shapes and sizes are beautiful. no one can fight me on this one.

YOUR BREATH COMES OUT SHARP and ragged as you feel Nagi’s soft lips connect lazily against your neck, tongue running in small and slow circles on the skin before he gently nips on it. Your place on his lap was a constant thing, after all, Nagi wasn’t one to put effort into hovering himself on top of you whilst going through the trouble of balancing himself with his two elbows. He voiced out his concerns repeatedly the last time you both tried before settling back to your usual positions—you sitting snug on his lap as he sits comfortably on the couch with his broad back leaning against the soft rest.

You squeal as he suddenly lifts up your shirt and you instinctively move back, pulling your shirt back down. It was an irrational concern, truly, to hold such insecurities over breasts that functioned normally. But you didn’t like the way the weighed down above your abdomen whenever you’d sit down nor could you seem to get used to the image of them without your bra lifting them up more ‘attractively’.

See, lookism has become more prevalent along the recent years with the constant increase of the usage of social media that wordlessly promoted unattainable beauty standards. Everyone had their own certain charm to themselves, but with every comment thoughtlessly uttered, apparently certain groups of people had a surplus amount of it. And that only fed onto the irrational thoughts on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” Your boyfriend furrows his brows in genuine confusion. His hand moved down to clutch onto the edge of your shirt, frowning a little at the way you pulled them down.

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away. “Can I keep my shirt on?”

He tilts his head, dark and round eyes gazing into yours quizzically. He speaks bluntly. “Why? … I mean, it’s your choice, but I wanna touch ‘em.”

You chuckle at the way the words roll out of his mouth with a certain lack of care and genuine confusion, and perhaps, that nearly enough to convince you out of your irrational thoughts completely. You cup his large hand that was still holding onto the shirt you were wearing before explaining softly. “It’s a weird reason, but I just don’t like the way they look.”

He nods in agreement at your first statement, looking down at your clothed breasts shamelessly, muttering. “It is a weird reason. Dunno, but they look fine to me. Besides… don’t really care, just wanna touch ‘em…”

He dips his head down onto the crook of your neck once again, breathing in your natural scent before kissing your skin lazily again. He mumbles quietly against your neck, slowly snaking his large hands up to grope your clothed breasts. He squeezes them gently before running his thumbs down onto your nipples that were poking against the shirt.

You breathe out shakily, holding onto his bare shoulders as he plays with your tits mindlessly. You see the way he subtly pulls back a little, head dipped down to stare intently at the way his own large hands were fondling with your soft breasts—the weight on his palm nearly satisfying him, along with the way the fabric of your shirt forms creases every time he squeezed.

“Come on… let me see ‘em, please…” His hands move a bit more roughly and you gasp at the movements. “S'not enough…”

This time, you don’t stop him when he lifts his shirt up completely above your head and throws it onto the floor. You don’t know what he’s thinking as he stares down at your tits wordlessly for a few seconds, dark eyes pinned on it without moving away for a single second. Finally, he snaps out of his stupor with a soft whine when you smack the back of his head lightly.

“Seishiro…” You begin to grumble. “What are you—”

You gasp when he suddenly dips his head down, lifting your breasts up a little with his hands, before sucking on the tips of your puffy nipples. You shudder, unconsciously tightening your legs around his waist as you pull yourself closer to him.

He groans quietly against your breast, looking up at your contorted expressions. “Looks fine to me, baby… so pretty, even. Feels good in my hands and mouth… Wonder how good my cock would feel between your tits…”

He presses his lips all over the surface of your chest—soft moans tumbling out of his own lips as if his own ministrations were pleasurable for himself—alternating between each of your breast. He sucks on the skin, leaving soft red marks in its wake, and soon, your breasts is painted with a harmony of colors like a simple abstract painting of the picturesque lust.

Your bodies are both hot, and you can feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy through your thin panties, leaving a patch on your boyfriend’s gray sweatpants. He pauses his ministrations to dip his hand down against your heat, cupping your clothed pussy completely.

“Ah, fuck… it’s so wet, baby” He mumbles, cheeks and ears dusted a light shade of rosy red. “Got some on my pants. Let’s take ‘em off…”

You lift your hips up as he pulls your underwear down and throwing them onto the floor before making a move to take off his own sweatpants. Soon, you’re both bare for each other to see and admire. You rub the side of your arm a bit shyly at the exposure especially with the bright fluorescent lights of the living room glaring down over your figures. It shows every single part of yourselves—every crevice and color marking your skin.

Nagi slowly reaches up to touch the back of your neck and push you forward to capture his lips with yours. It’s soft and gentle, just like how kisses between the two of you were always shared—exploring every part of each other through tongues slowly slipping in.

You pull away breathlessly. “Want more, Sei…”

“Me too…” He mumbles, immediately moving his fingers down against your pussy again. He rubs slow circles with his middle and ring finger around your wet clit, keeping his eyes trained on your face to watch your expression contort, presenting varying feelings of the pleasure he was providing you. He feels the wetness on the pads of his fingers, pressing them a little more against the area before slowly easing a finger in. His cock hardens, pressing against his lower abdomen as he hears your drawn-out moan dragging out of your parted lips.

“Got me so hard with those sounds, baby… let me hear some more…” He groans out softly, pumping his middle finger inside your pussy, searching for your g-spot. He moves in a little deeper, touching the bundle of nerves inside of you and rubbing it a little with the pad of his finger. He watches you jolt on top of him before deciding to do the same movement twice. Next, he pulls his finger back slowly, experimentally bumping the pad of his finger against the spot.

You were in cloud nine at his seemingly mindless and entertained movements, feeling every part of his finger with your walls clamping down on it tightly. Warmth spreads around under your belly and you can feel it building up with each passing second. You whine when he pulls his finger out again, watching him pump his cock slowly with his head thrown back against the back rest of the couch.

“W-Wait just a second, baby…” He gasps a little, pumping his cock that was oozing with pre-cum. It drips down on the length of his cock and he sighs before aligning the tip against your entrance. “Hurts so much— wanna be inside you so bad…”

He pushes his cock in and you both simultaneously let out a moan. It was thick inside of you and you can feel every single crevice and vein with your gummy walls clamping down on it as he slowly helps you ease down on his cock. His long fingers were digging down against your hips, pulling you down breathlessly until he’s completely sheathed inside of you.

You both take a short pause as you accommodate his length inside of you.

“You okay?” He asks a little breathlessly, chest rising and falling deeply. You can see him grind his teeth a little.

You nod after a while before slowly lifting your hips up again and dropping it with the same pace down on his cock. You furrow your brows, biting your lip at the pleasure that seemed to swarm throughout your lower body.

“H-Help…” You request as your thighs burned slightly at the continuous movements you were making. Obediently, he places his hands onto your ass, helping you lift and drop your hips against his.

“F-Fuck, s’good, baby…” He moans, watching the way you repeatedly bouncing on his dick. He lifts his gaze up and groans this time at the way your tits bounced along with the movements of your whole body. He moves his head forward, burying his face between the valley of your breasts, loving how the warmth engulfed his skin comfortingly. “Love your tits so much…”

He lifts and drops your hips a little faster, digging his fingers down on your ass more that it seemed to be leaving marks behind. His clouded mind and pleasure-filled body taking control of the pace each time he feels your soft yet tight walls squeeze and pulse around him deliciously.

“S-Sei!” You gasp, bouncing on his cock harder and following along with his wordless command.

“H-Huh? F-Fuck… yes, baby?” He bites his bottom lip hard, leaving it swollen and pink before he starts babbling between your bouncing chest. “Love having you fuck yourself on my dick like this… Wanna see you cum around my— c-cock, shiiit…”

He throws his head back, forcibly picking up the pace as he lifts and drops your hips on his cock before he then begins to meet your movements by thrusting his own hips up. The sound of skin-slapping fills the area along with the breathy moans leaving both of your lips.

“S’too fast, S-Sei— a-ah!” You gasp, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back.

“Looks so f-fucked out, baby—” He groans out, thrusting his hips up faster and deeper inside of you as you meet his hips—the impact leaving your clit hard and aching as it slaps against his skin, sending waves of sharp delicious heat up and around your core.

“G-Gonna… gonna cum!” You moan, digging your nails against his shoulder as you suddenly twitch, pussy pulsing and walls clamping down hard around his cock. Your mind blanks when you reach your climax and you shudder as your boyfriend continues to move.

“S-Shit, got so tight… W-Wanna cum too—“ He buries his cock deep one last time before it twitches, then pulling out to shoot his milky white cum on your breasts. “H-Haah—”

You both pant loudly at the exertion then you drop your head down against his shoulder, laying against him limply and tiredly. You can hear his heart beat even with your ears up from where you were and you were certain that he could hear yours too.

“Thanks, Sei” You blurt out quietly.

“For what?” His words come out a little breathlessly.

“For everything”

You can feel him tilt his head and you chuckle when you hear him utter his response cluelessly.

“Don’t really know why you’re thanking me, but… no problem, I guess…”

#venusxstars! #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock #female reader #blue lock oneshots #blue lock smut #blue lock thirst #blue lock x female reader #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi smut #nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi thirst

[sailorkamino]

Hospital Bed Confessions

relationships: jake lockley x fem!reader, established marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

warnings: car accident/hospitalization/injuries, protective (but soft) jake, referenced childhood abuse, non sexual showering together, little bit of jealous!jake, jake has never been in a healthy/loving relationship and it shows.

translations: cariño- dear, princesa- princess, mi vida- my life, muñeca- doll

‘Has Y/N sent her home text yet?’ Steven asks from his reflection in Gus’ II’s and Gil’s fish tank. Jake looks away from the TV, “her what?” His alter looks annoyed, ‘you know what I’m talking about. The text She sends everynight to tell us she got home safe.’

Jake sighs dramatically picking up their shared phone. When he sees the late time illuminated on the screen something twists in his gut. Ever since you started dating Steven, and later Marc, you would send daily texts to whoever was fronting. The amount would vary depending on your workload but there were always three constants: good morning, I’m home, good night. 

Jake clenches his jaw. He tells himself he’s being irrational, clingy even. He tries to keep his voice even when he responds. “No, but she said she was working late.” 

This time it’s Marc that speaks up. ‘She should definitely be home by now. Call her.’ 

“You two are so dramatic,” he grumbles, although he was about to do that anyway. You don’t answer. Jake tries to ignore the worry churning in his gut. You’re an adult, you don’t need him hovering, but something feels off. Marc and Steven are pestering him to go to your flat but he barks at them in Spanish, trying to gather his own thoughts. A notification has them all freezing. 

Jake takes only a moment to read the message before an unreadable expression flickers across his face. He bolts out of the flat, leaving his altars in the dark. If you heard the way he was yelling at the cabbie to hurry up you would be pissed but manners are the last thing on his mind. Once the car comes to a stop he throws some money (including a tip because he’s not a monster) at the poor driver before jumping out. 

He’s practically running through the hallways, ignoring the poor doctors and nurses dodging his path. Finally he finds the room. He bursts through the door but the sight before him makes him freeze. He’s seen, and done, many violent things but seeing you hurt is something he’ll never forget. 

You peer at him for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw, before a tired smile spreads across your cut lips, “Jake.”  He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and approaches your bed. His hands clench by his sides. He wants to touch you, reassure himself that you’re here, but he’s afraid of hurting you worse. “You should see the other guy,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, eyes becoming impossibly darker. 

“What happened?” 

You blink slowly at him. You know Jake is incredibly protective but you had never witnessed it towards you. Jake has always kept you at arms length so to speak. You would text some whenever he was fronting but he woukd mostly just tell you about Marc and Steven. He didn’t seem to realize that you cared about him just as much, and wanted to get to know him too.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast. I was driving home, I saw headlights then just… pain.” You wince at the memory.

His gaze is much softer now. “Are you in pain now, cariño?”

The pet name has you grinning, despite how sore your face is. “Some, but not too bad. They have me on a lot of drugs.” His eyes travel your scratched and bruised form. He wonders how many more injuries he can’t see and clenches his jaw. “Where are you hurt?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing he won’t like the answers. “Umm my back is sprained, broken ribs, whiplash, and a concussion… plus I have some cuts but it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Your attempts to soften the blow do nothing as he curses in Spanish (which is actually really sexy but now is not in the time.) His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can only assume Steven and Marc are griping in his head.

You brush your fingers against his in an attempt to calm him down. He looks down to see you weakly grabbing his rougher hand, effectively making his heart stutter. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he hisses, gently running his thumb over your chilled skin. He lets go of your hand (much to your disappointment) so he can remove his jacket and drape it over your body. You breathe in the familiar cologne that all the boys wear, snuggling into the leather.

“Thank you, Jakey.”

He shakes his head at the nickname as he takes a seat in the plush chair beside your bed. You turn your head to look at him playfully. “You know this isn’t how I imagined our first date.” He scoffs in response, "this isn’t our first date." You feel the sting of rejection and consider hiding under his jacket to cry a little but then he takes your hand in his (where it belongs, in your humble opinion.)

"Once you're better I’ll take you somewhere real nice, okay? But you have to heal up first.”

Your heart rises from where it had fallen in the pit of your stomach to flutter in your chest. “I’d like that,” you hum. Your gaze travels to your interlaced fingers, thinking about your words carefully. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you liked me.”

‘Nice going, locker,’ Marc seethes mentally. ‘You hurt her feelings.’

Jake ignores him as usual. “Oh princesa,” he sighs deeply, “I’ll admit at first I didn’t trust you. Nothing personal, I just didn’t want Marc or Steven to get hurt. But then I saw the way you treated them and I started falling for you too.”

This time his altars are quiet. Your voice is soft when you ask, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. And you seemed so happy with them.”

Your heart melts at his confession. You’re not naive. You know Jake has a dark side. He’s the manifestation of anger and resentment Marc felt as an abused child, but he’s also a protector. “We’re lucky to have you,” you softly confess.

He looks at you in awe for a moment before you notice his lip slightly quivering. He bows his head but you can still tell he’s holding back tears. “Oh baby,” you coo softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him against your chest, or even wipe his wet cheeks, but your injured back and sides won’t allow it.

‘You deserve to be happy too, mate,’ Steven pipes up, only making his eyes burn more. ‘Yeah man, stop shutting her out. She cares about you,’ Marc adds.

“Are you okay?”

He nods slowly, his altar’s words echoing in his mind. “Sorry princesa, I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m glad you can be open with me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration it makes you shy. Then he gently kisses the back of your hand, “I should probably let Marc and Steven talk to you. They’re worried sick.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to visit me again, amor.”

He grins at the sound of you using his first language. “I promise, mi vida.”

____

Within a few days you’re released from the hospital. Your boyfriends insists on staying with you until you’re better.

“Alright muñeca, bed or couch?” Jake asks. “What about shower? I smell like the hospital.” You counter, leaning into his solid chest. His arm flexes around your waist as he leads (practically carries) you into the bathroom. “Do you need help, princesa?” He asks. You nod shyly.

You lean against the counter as he gingerly pulls your baggy shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare (you learnt quickly that broken ribs and bras don’t mix.) “There’s my beautiful girl,” he coos. You grin bashfully, looking away as he kneels in front of you to pull down your sweatpants and underwear, leaving a gentle kiss on your hip. “Jake!” You protest shyly with heated cheeks as he stands in front of you.

“Sorry mi vida, couldn’t resist. This is my first time undressing you, after all.” He smirks before ducking into the shower to turn it on. He strips himself before wrapping his large arms around you to help you in the shower. You let out a happy sigh as the warm water hits your sore body

“Stand still so I can wash you,” he instructs, reaching for your fruity body wash. “Wait,” you interrupt, making him freeze. “Can you use yours? I like smelling like you guys,” you sheepishly admit. It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re worried you weirded him out, when his lips brush against your ear,

“Marc wants you to know that that’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.”

You grin at his words, trying to ignore the goosebumps left in their wake. “Tell Marc he’s cuter.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting through me.”

You bring one of Jake's large hands to your mouth, pecking his knuckles. “Aw baby, don’t be jealous. You know I don’t play favorites with my boys.”

Jake smiles so big it makes his eyes crinkle. Suddenly belonging to someone doesn’t seem so bad, especially when they belong to you too. He wordlessly kisses your neck and reaches for their body wash. You giggle to yourself but it turns into a gasp when he puts the cold loofah on your back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks worridley, movements stilling. You shake your head softly, “no, I’m ok, just surprised me. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Once he’s washed your back and shoulders he helps you turn around to face him. He runs the loofah over your front, being extra careful of your broken ribs. He places intermittent kisses across your face and forehead to distract you from any discomfort, mumbling apologizes against your damp skin.

After you’re cleaned off he helps you out of the shower, running a fluffy towel across your body to dry you off. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, mi vida,” he coos as he walks you to your room and sits you on your bed. He grabs you some underwear then moves to your closet.

“What do you wanna wear?”

You immediately point to your favorite stolen item of clothing. “The black jumper.”

Jake takes it off its hanger, examining it closely. “Is this Steven’s?”

“Mhmm, I always take his clothes.” You confess as he lays it on the bed beside you.

“Well Steven isn’t the one who just helped you shower but by all means,” he grumbles to himself as he helps you pull up your panties. You playfully roll your eyes at his childness. “I already told you, baby, I don’t play favorites, it’s just that Stevie wears the comfiest shirts. And besides, I don’t have any of your clothes yet.”

“Oh, so now he’s Stevie?”

“I tried to call you Jakey and you said you didn’t like it.”

“I was lying! Obviously!”

You scoff at his unprecedented jealousy. “Just get in bed, Jakey. I want to watch Encanto.”

____

A few Disney movies later Jake leaves to get you dinner and feed Gus II and Gil. When he comes back he’s bearing gifts.

“This one’s from me,” he explains proudly, presenting an oversized Yankees shirt. “And this piece of trash is from Marc,” he groans comically, presenting a Chicago shirt. You giggle at his dramatics, making him smile proudly.

“Oh and the flowers were Steven’s ideas but I picked out the type,” he adds on, holding out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. If your body wasn’t in so much pain you’re sure your heart would be beating out of your chest cartoon style.

“I have the best boyfriends ever.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon boys

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART SIX

leave us in peace and we shall leave you in kind.

cut the crap.

we just want to go home.

enough of this charade.

i'll not play pretend anymore.

you'll soon learn what it means to ally yourself with the likes of this garbage.

i'm free now, and i'm never going back.

fuck them.

felt good letting off a little steam.

if i burn any hotter, i might explode.

don't get too close until i've found a way to calm down.

it's a bit early to be getting into tragic backstories.

let's save the scar-show for later after we've worked up an appetite for tragedy.

in the grand scheme of things, i'm inconsequential [to her].

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

it had the makings of a good stage show, but i did not want to be one of the players.

torture, bloodsport? or perhaps just a good old-fashioned walloping?

you owe me nothing.

i could extort you, if that's what you want.

you're teasing me now.

ignorance is alive and well it seems.

don't make me get the wooden spoon.

you'd best have one hells of an apology for me.

if you think your precious little god holds any power here, you're in for a surprise.

do you treat all your guests so poorly?

i don't like busybodies.

you are as thick as they come.

are you telling me you made love to a goddess?

i shared a bed with a goddess and yet i wasn't satisfied.

shall i share the story behind it or would you rather head straight to its sordid finale?

how are you still alive?

we've come this far together and we'll continue on together.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i'll rip your spine out of your asshole.

i'll use your blood to spice my stew.

i'll keep you alive until i've sucked the marrow from your bones.

killing me is a waste of time.

you bastard, you ruined everything.

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

a slap is all you deserve.

a hag was never going to help you.

they don't help anyone but themselves.

that double-crossing, filthy, lying hag.

focus on the positive.

forgive the aroma.

perhaps that is why i have survived so long where more fearsome peers have not.

your loyalty is admirable but misplaced.

his kind have charm beyond our mortal means to resist.

who'd keep a secret like that from his friends?

you can't trust anyone these days.

even in the middle of nowhere, he can reach me.

why do you insist on exhuming the past?

people think the biggest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake.

they're scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts.

i am what i must be, says what i must be.

how does it feel to be a devil?

i can't tell if you're being silly or serious.

you have to admire the man's ambition.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

you kept me by your side despite the menace i am.

i learned quick how to stay alive.

to feel invincible again.

this isn't where i thought i'd end up.

maybe when this is all done, you can show me where you came from.

i'm not normally one to begrudge someone their secrets, but..

i'm already blessed to have you at my side.

don't you cut a fine figure.

i am not some lower city coinlad offering you a tumble.

there is nothing so depressing as learning one's true value.

i could use someone with your skills.

they're ravenous predators with fangs like daggers.

it's hardly an irrational fear to harbor.

you've been decent to me, so far.

everyone's got their own fears.

maybe that's what i like about you.

all of this was for nothing.

if you're here to help, get to the fight quickly.

gods, i thought you were one of those beasts.

i'm not chasing after it, if that's what you're thinking.

the little beast's charming once you get accustomed to the smell of rotting flesh.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme #starter sentences #rp starters #rpc #starter meme #sentence prompts #sentence prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #writing prompt #bg3 meme

[neowinestainedress]

DRIPPIN'

pairing: boyfriend!haechan x inexperienced!fem!reader x haechan’s best friends!mark, jeno, jaemin 

genre: smut, pwp, non-idol au, established relationship (with haechan) | requested

summary: you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

warnings: smut, fivesome (here we go again lmao), unprotected sex, dubcon bc of corruption kink and innocence kink, minor (unconscious) exhibitionism, voyeurism, thighs riding, fingering, (at first) non-con (then) consensual filming but with a bit of manipulation so dubcon filming, oral sex (m and f), loss of virginity, pet names, praise kink, nipple sucking, spanking, anal (f), c*m play (like a lot), dacryphilia, double penetration, minor pain kink, subspace, too many orgasms, overstimulation, jaemin is nasty, jeno bites, mark and haechan seem normal but they aren’t either | if i missed something lmk

word count: 18.211k (of smut, nothing else, just smut)

a/n: big sigh, this was a challenge on so many levels, from the innocence kink to the fact that it’s my first (and probably last lmao) long-length fic written in second person and present tense. It probably takes more to flow compared to my usual stuff because I didn’t want it to be too overwhelming at the start (wanted to keep as consensual as possible) but I hope when it kicks in, it flows well. I also hope it’s what the person that requested wanted. I know I say it every time, but I seriously think this is the filthiest thing I ever wrote. Please, please, let me know what you think about it, especially if you read my old stuff because this is such a new thing for me and it would mean a lot to know if it’s as good as the rest or if should stick to the old way. Enjoy!!♡

You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel a weird sensation in your body. It’s... funny, that’s how you would describe it, apart from feeling hotter, and more sensitive at the slightest touch. 

You don’t think you’re sick or something, it’s not the first time that this happened and it’s not painful, just annoying. And the worst of it all is that you don’t know how to take care of it. 

An irrational part of you is telling you to talk to your boyfriend, Haechan. But another feels that it’s wrong. It’s like a prude part of your brain is screaming to keep it to yourself. 

And yes, it had happened before but it never felt like this, it never lasted this long. It had been two days that you feel... You feel... Needy? Clingy? Whiny? 

It feels pathetic, and you only hope that whatever it is, it will pass fast. 

“Oh,” you exclaim when you enter the living room and see your boyfriend’s best friends sit on one of the two couches. “I didn’t know you were coming.” You walk toward them and see their eyes linger on you longer than usual. “Oh, I was going to bed. That’s why the pj’s,” you chuckle, totally not getting that their gazes weren’t judging ones but horny, something you couldn’t know. You couldn’t even get it when your boyfriend looked at you like this, so how could you do it with his friends? 

“Babe.” Haechan’s voice makes you turn around and smile at him softly. “My bad, it was kinda a last-minute thing.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, shivering when his hand rests on your middle and rubs circles against the thin fabric of your camisole. Your eyes trail there, feeling your skin burn and you start to wonder if maybe you have a fever or something. “Beer and game night?” You force yourself to bring your attention back to them, smiling at the other three men as if nothing is going on. 

“Actually, no alcohol, we have to drive home,” Mark replies, gulping after he drifts his eyes away from your hard nipples. You’re not wearing a bra and they are rock hard under the thin layer covering your beautiful body and he knows is not due to the cold because the temperature in the room is normal. It even starts feeling hot the more he looks at you. 

“Well, have fun then,” you say, eyes wrinkling as you beam at them. “I’ll just go back to our bedroom —”

“No, come on, babe,” Haechan says, pulling you close to him. “Stay with us. You wanted cuddles before, didn’t you?" He coos, making you lower your head to hide how flustered you look. Yes, you did ask for it, hoping it would ease some of your pain, but it’s so embarrassing in front of his friends. 

“It’s because I had a rough week,” you justify to them. You always fear what you look like in their eyes. You have a feeling that they don’t even like you that much because you are quite different from Haechan’s exes or the girls they surround themselves with. You kind of envy them for being so confident and not so affectionate. Thinking the way you act makes you look dumb in their eyes. 

“It’s fine, no judgment here,” Jeno reassures, winking at you... And why do you find that attractive? 

You mentally slap yourself before letting Haechan drag you on his lap. One of your favorite cuddling positions; facing him, resting your head on his shoulder, and enjoying his hands rubbing your back. You’d like to listen to their talks, or discussions on what game they want to play or if it was better to watch a movie, but your mind is somewhere else. 

You feel off and euphoric at the same time, mind dizzy, disconnected from your rational part, guiding your body without you even knowing. You blame it on the way Haechan is touching you, smooth hands pressing harder than usual on your skin, and occasionally going lower on your half-exposed ass. You don’t think much about it, too lost in the sensation, and almost sleepy while your left cheek rests against his shoulder.

You don’t know that on the other side of the room, your boyfriend’s best friends’ eyes are boring holes into you, trying to play it cool, to don’t get caught by him while they stare at your skin, and think of how soft and pretty —and spankable— your ass looks as it starts grinding against him, trying not to drool like horny dogs.

“Hyuck,” you whine when you feel your body get hotter. “I think I have a fever.” 

Your boyfriend hums, bringing his attention to you that are now looking at him after pulling away from his body. 

“A fever?” He asks, raising a hand to touch your forehead. “Babe, you’re fine.” 

You want to retort and say that you don’t feel fine, but you guess he wants to spend some time with his friends and you’re already getting too much in the way. Maybe you should just go to your bedroom and sleep, it was going to pass, it had to pass. 

So you clear your throat and move away from Haechan. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, waving at his friends before leaning in to kiss him, shorts rising up more, giving a perfect view of your asscheeks.  And the other three have to suppress a groan and look away. 

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend checks in again, fingers grazing the back of your hand in gentle circles. 

“Yeah, I don’t feel,” you stop, not wanting to worry him. “I don’t feel like staying up.” 

“Kay, goodnight, babe,” he greets back, smiling at you, watching you disappear into the bedroom. 

You think it will pass. You hope it will. After minutes that feel like hours, you start to pray it will go away. But the more you try to fight it, the strongest it gets. You feel it between your legs, but the more you squeeze them, the more it grows. The more you rub it away the worst it gets. 

So you huff loudly, move the blankets off your body and go out again. 

“Oh, you’re still here,” you gasp when you see that his friends are still at home. And you don’t know what to do anymore. You really don’t want to ruin his fun, but you feel like you’re going insane and you don’t why you can’t control it. All the other times it went and passed but now it’s like your senses are enhanced. 

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice is worried, and he’s looking at you with apprehension. 

“’M fine,” you mumble, running to him, playing nervously with the hem of your camisole. 

“Want some water?” Jaemin asks, seeing how flustered you look and you nod, small steps to walk to him and grab the glass he’s offering you. 

“Slow, honey,” he chuckles when you gulp it eagerly and a droplet of water drips down your chin to your chest, making you whimper at the contrast between the cold water and your burning skin. “Don’t be messy,” he whispers, licking his lips, eyes telling you to do the exact opposite because he’s loving this shaken side of you.

“Thanks,” you breathe, handing him the empty glass and drying your lips with your thumb. You see Jeno shift in his place and growl lowly but you don’t think on it for long. And in a second you’re turned back to your boyfriend. You’re so close to them that Mark is really tempted to pull you on his lap and fuck you. But you slip out of their hold, running to your boyfriend before his fucked up thoughts can come to life. 

“Can’t sleep, can I sit on your lap?” 

Haechan hums, spreading his legs to make space for you, expecting you to give him his back but you sit just like you were before. And when you moan when your lower part brush against his body, he gets what’s going on. 

It had been days since you were needier than usual, oversensitive in a way you usually aren’t. He’s the perverted one that always touches you and teases you, making you shy while you push him away because it feels wrong. He’s the one that makes jokes you don’t get, only widening your eyes and mouth when you realize he’s hinting at something he shouldn’t be talking about so freely and casually. 

But you, God, you are the sweetest, most innocent person he has ever met, and it drives him crazy. He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t fantasize about ruining you, dragging every single piece of innocence and naivety from your brain and turning you into his nasty, horny girl, but he can’t help it. He wants you to be addicted to his lips, his fingers, his cock, every part of him. 

But, as much as he’d like to ruin you, he promised himself he was going to wait for you, wait till a small part of your prude shield falls apart and lets him in, and now, you are serving it on a silver plate. 

He tries to keep his attention on his friends, nodding at whatever Mark is saying and grinning when Jaemin argues back. But then you start rocking your hips on him and all his sanity is gone. 

What the fuck are you doing? And in front of his friends? 

He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t get a boner for the fact that you’re so turned on that you’re trying to get off in front of everybody without even knowing. 

It’s wrong. So wrong. 

But he forgot the line between wrong and right a long time ago when it comes to you. 

So he grips your hips tighter and for some unknown reason, that gets you even more. 

You bite your lips and press more against him, feeling… something hard? 

You blink hazily, sitting straight to face him with a confused expression but your hips are still grinding against him, slower than before, but the movement is perceptible enough to drag other three pairs of eyes there. 

“Hyuck…?” You ask, voice barely higher than a whisper and hands wrapped around his shoulders when you feel it move. “What — what is that?” 

“What, baby?” He fakes innocence, wanting you to break it, to slip into that world you kept your distance from for so long. 

“Why… why is it hard? Is it you? Or is it the remote?” 

You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, guessing it comes from Jaemin, and you’re about to turn around when Haechan cups your face and makes you turn to him. His hold is slightly rougher than his usual touch but you don’t mind, it surprises you, but it doesn’t scare you. 

“It’s me, baby,” he coos, smiling. You raise a brow when you see his lips curl in a smirk, a cocky grin that usually paints his face when he wants to prove something, or when he wins, whether it’s a game or an argument. So you don’t truly get why he has it on his face now. You don’t get that you are the game he wants to win. 

You don’t expect him to kiss you, hard and intensively, wrapping one hand behind your neck and pushing your waist toward him with the other. You expect even less to don’t pull away, and so do the others that are looking at the scene. You are the shy one that pulls away at the slightest peck on the cheek in front of his friends so what has taken over you now? 

They don’t know. And they know they shouldn’t care but the thoughts that have been crossing their minds for half of the night were already so fucked up that they surely weren’t going to stop now. You teased them without even knowing. You teased them in front of your boyfriend. And fuck, that was fucked up, but they had no intention to stop. In the end, it was going to be a silly fantasy they were taking home, slumping on their beds alone and jacking off thinking of you in those skimpy pink clothes, making sure Haechan wasn’t going to ever find out about it and then act like usual in front of you. 

“Hyuck,” you moan his name when he pulls back from the kiss, and his hardness rubs against you. “Wait,” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. “I — I feel weird. It — it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts, baby?” He purrs, stopping his movement, smiling when you nod. 

“It’s been hurting all day, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Where does it hurt, pretty?” He asks and your hands trail down your body, shyly touching your core. “Here.” 

Haechan kisses your pout away before his fingers replace yours and he pushes against your sensitive clit. You moan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Yeah, there,” you cry. “Hurt so much, Hyuck. I don’t know how to make it go away.” 

“Want me to make it go away?” He asks, hand cupping your ass and squeezing tight. 

Jeno’s eyes go wide as he stares at you in utter shock. “Wait… are you doing this now? In front of us?” He chuckles to water down the awkwardness and the excitement and you turn around confused. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, big sorry eyes locking into his, dark and intense, staring right into you. He makes you shiver as you fear he’s mad at you for ruining their night, so you justify yourself again, “I’ve been holding it all night, but I can’t keep it anymore. I don’t want to ruin your fun, I swear I tried to make it stop but I won’t, it won —”

“Shh,” your boyfriend shushes you with a kiss. Eyeing the other three that are starting with their mouths open. 

You truly don’t know anything. 

“It’s fine, you didn’t ruin our night,” he whispers, caressing your hip. “We’ll help you.”

“We?” Mark’s voice comes out strangled and even if you can’t see him, you know his eyes are wide open. 

Your boyfriend chuckles, smiling at his friends before he grins at you. “She looks really in pain. I’m sure she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Haechan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jeno replies, a nervous edge in his voice. 

“They — they don’t want to, it’s fine,” you say, voice huffing when his thigh flexes under your hot core. “If you tell me how, I can, I can take care of this alone.”

Haechan thinks you’re so cute, so close at your breaking point and yet still trying to keep it together. “No, honey, you can’t. I’ll help you.”

“But they —”

“If they don’t want to participate, it’s fine. But I’m sure they won’t mind watching. But they can always leave.”

At this point you don’t care, so you hum and wait for his next move. 

“Did it feel better when you grind on me?” 

“When I did this?” You ask, starting to rock your hips back and forth, hearing a groan come from behind you, but not being able to make out which one of the three is. 

“Yes,” Haechan replies, voice coming out raspy and lower than normal. 

“Am I hurting you?” The innocence in your voice and your eyes and in the way your hands are caressing his shoulders so delicately makes him groan and curse internally as he’d only wish to turn you over and fuck you deep and hard into the couch, not caring much if you can take it that hard or not. But he doesn’t, he has been patient for months, he can wait some minutes. 

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth and that makes you stop, tilting your head to the side as you study his contracted features. 

“Are you sure? Why are you groaning?”

“It feels good, babe. It feels so fucking good.” He grins when your eyes shy away at the vulgar word. He was used to holding back in front of you, knowing you weren’t really fond of swearing, but tonight he is going to have so much fun. “Do you feel good?”

You nod swiftly. Feeling a warm sensation spread in your body the more you move against him. And you feel… wet? You want to ask what it is but it’s like the words can’t form in your brain. Not only you don’t feel pain anymore, but you feel good. Better than ever before. And you feel… high. It’s almost as if your body is running after something bigger, stronger, and more intense. 

“Hyuck,” you call out crying when you feel your stomach twist and your pussy clench before a rush invades your body and makes your body tremble against him before you still, nails digging into his covered shoulders and jaw clenching. You stay like that for a while, chest panting and head thrown back while your eyes are closed and you try to understand why you felt so many emotions there. You know body parts, you know what it was meant for, but you never thought it could feel good. And why? You aren’t going to have babies, right? The doubt slips into the back of your mind, though.

“Feel better?” Haechan asks and you’re brought back to earth. 

You bite your lips, feeling shy when your body screams at you that it’s not enough. 

“A bit,” you reply lowly, looking down at his lap, seeing how hard he is. 

He snorts and then looks at the other three rolling his eyes. They swiftly look around the room, covering their boners the best they can. “Fucking fake prigs I can see your cocks twitch from here,” he mocks, making their eyes snap on him. “So, what are you going to do? Sit there and watch? Leave? Or do you wanna share and fuck around?”

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he means by that. But he ignores you, too busy staring at his friends, waiting for an answer as his feet tap on the floor.  

“Fuck it.” The first one to stand up is Jaemin, reaching you in a few seconds with big steps. If Haechan was willing to share you, he wasn’t going to say no. Virgin and inexperienced, it surely couldn’t have been worse than his hands and his memory of you. 

“Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it,” you mumble when you feel Jaemin’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you away from your boyfriend. 

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” He asks, tone gentle, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face. You’re so lost in how kind he looks your brain almost stops panicking and you only nod. Well, now you feel better, or that was what you thought, but it seems like the tingly sensation it’s creeping up your bones again. “We just want to help you feel good. Do you trust us?” 

You gulp when he sits you on the couch next to Haechan and when your eyes drift off him, you see Jeno and Mark stand over you too. 

You’re confused. A part of your brain is telling you that you should also probably be scared of what’s about to come but you pay it no mind. You’re burning up. You need something but you don’t know what it is. So how bad can it be that they are helping you with that? Also, you trust Haechan, he would never let them do something you don’t want. 

“Will I feel better?” You ask, looking at Haechan that is already smiling at you. 

“Like you never felt before,” he replies, caressing your cheek with two fingers, shivers running down your spine because it’s like you sense a shift in him —and everybody in the room.  

“O-okay,” your voice is low, but your body relaxes under his soft touch on your exposed thigh. You don’t expect him to kneel between your legs and part them open. You wait for the next move in silence and see their hungry eyes staring at you. 

You look so pure; pastel pink shorts wrapping around your soft thighs, the top laying softly on your upper body, flustered expression, eyes filled with curiosity, apprehension and lust. And when Haechan pulls them down, he reveals white panties, stained with wetness, highlighting even more the outlines of your pussy. 

There’s only one thought that crosses their minds. 

They can’t wait to ruin you. 

But you don’t see it, you’re still pretty unaware of what’s going to happen, how are they going to fix your aching pain between your legs. So that’s why you’re so shocked about what Haechan does next. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen and your legs clump together when he pushes your panties down your legs. 

“Trying to make you feel better,” he smirks as if it’s obvious. 

“You’re — you’re undressing me,” you mumble, feeling too ashamed to meet the others’ eyes, but you can still feel them on your skin. The air of the room seems so cold when it hits against your hot, wet skin and you feel so small and exposed because they are all standing around you, tall and broad, fully dressed and in control. 

“If you want to feel good, we have to see you.” You’re waiting for Haechan to answer but the voice that fills the silence in the room is Jeno’s. 

Your eyes skim to him, gulping when you meet his gaze. You feel like a prey. And he’s starving. They all are.

“But — but you’re not my boyfriends, isn’t this… wrong?” You ask, an instinct telling you that whatever is about to happen shouldn’t be happening like this, not with his friends. It should be only you and your boyfriend. Now you might be innocent but you know being naked is an intimate thing, you barely showed yourself to him after months of dating; the only time he got to see your naked form was after he spent hours convincing you to take a shower together and you gave him your back for half of the time. 

“Is it wrong if it makes you feel good?” Mark asks, smiling at you. 

You ponder on it. Will this make you feel good? You are sure it will, if it’s anything close to what you felt before it can’t be different, but you still feel like it shouldn’t happen. 

“Let’s ask your body, babe,” Haechan brings your attention to him again, spreading your legs and planting your right foot on the couch seat so they can have a perfect view of your cunt. 

You hide your face behind your hands, feeling too exposed, but Jaemin sits beside you and moves them away. 

“Don’t hide, pretty,” he purrs, nose nuzzling against your cheek, making you chuckle lowly. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Fuck,” you hear Mark moan when Haechan spreads your pussy lips apart, cold air hitting your core, making you moan. “She’s dripping.” 

You want to ask what he means by that, but your boyfriend’s fingers hitting a sensitive spot makes you quiver. Your head rolls back and your eyes fall shut. 

You hear muffled chuckles, but you don’t pay them much attention. 

“Look at him,” Jaemin whispers, encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stare right between your legs, you find it wrong and slightly humiliating, but you do as he says. He’s there to make you feel better, so he knows what he’s doing. 

“What is this…” you whimper when Haechan’s fingers touch the substance that is dripping out of your pussy, smearing it around, sticky and cold, making you squirm at the weird sensation. 

“This?” He says, lifting his fingers up after collecting it, two digits scissoring in the air, a white and transparent string connecting them. You nod, not expecting him to do what comes next. “This is how excited you are for us.” He brings his fingers in his mouth and you don’t know why, but something about it feels wrong and your legs close in shame immediately, but Jaemin parts them open.  

“No hiding, remember? You’re so pretty, why would you hide this from us?” He coos, bringing one of his hands where Haechan was before. 

You’re about to complain, once again feeling like he shouldn’t be the one doing that, but Haechan doesn’t say anything, and you can’t complain when he starts moving his fingers on you. Shocks of pleasure spreading through your body as he starts moving them so nicely. 

“Like it, bunny?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s not even watching where his fingers are, playing with you with his eyes closed as if he’s been doing it for ages. “Like it when I play with your clit?” 

The temperature of your body spikes up at his words. You may not know how good you can feel but you’re pretty good at anatomy, yeah, even that anatomy, no matter how embarrassing you found it, but this surely wasn’t for scientific purposes so, of course, your skin burns up and your legs are about to close again. 

This time is Mark the one that stops you, sitting on the other side of the couch and keeping your leg still. 

“You didn’t answer,” Jaemin reminds you, voice lower and sterner. 

“Yeah, it feels good,” you breathe out. Your breath shakes when he teases your entrance, the tip of his fingers pushing just against the opening but without sliding in. 

“Oh, bunny. You must like me a lot,” he chuckles, collecting more wetness and spreading it on your thigh. 

Your eyes look for Haechan, trying to get if it’s a bad sign, if he’s mad because you’re enjoying somebody else’s touch so much, but he’s lost, eyes staring right into your core and on his friend’s finger, and you shouldn’t feel so pulled toward him but something in the way he’s looking at you, well, your pussy, makes you feel even hotter. 

By now you got where this is going, it’s about sex. That’s where all your problems are coming from. But you don’t know what to do. And you typically don’t like not having control over things. 

“I — I’ve never done this before,” you blabber out, making them laugh. 

“We know,” Jeno replies. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.” 

“Is it — is it bad?” 

“Bad?” Jaemin grins, starting to move his fingers faster. “That’s the funny part.” 

You look at him with confused, yet curious eyes, and he winks at you. 

“Want his fingers?” Haechan asks, nervously shaking his leg because this is dragging too long and he just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, he had waited long enough, and now he has to have you. 

“Like… inside?” You dare to ask and Mark laughs, “so, you know something about sex.” 

“I — I,” you stutter, but the words die in your brain. You heard your friends talk about it, it was something along the lines of ‘taking care of themselves,’ and ‘he’s so good I couldn’t walk for a day,’ but you never indulged in those kinds of talks. Sex just felt too dirty and wrong for you, so you always avoided it. But maybe now you would’ve found those talks useful, maybe if you sat and listened just one time, you would’ve taken care of this yourself instead of ending up here, spread open, dripping wet, in front of your boyfriend and his friends. Not that you mind, but you’re not really sure you can take whatever is about to come. 

“Dude, it’s a miracle she knows how to call what she has between her legs,” Jaemin retorts and you glare at him. 

“Hey! I know how to call it.” 

He smirks, quickening the pace on you, your lower lip getting trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans. 

“Say it,” he orders, looking straight into your eyes, they look oddly soft for the way he’s talking to you and moving his fingers on your sensitive bud. But that’s what’s pushing you to the limit again, his contrasts. 

Still, it’s hard to swallow and let the word slip out of your mouth, and when you do, when the word ‘pussy’ falls from your lips, you’d rather be swallowed by the floor. 

“Good girl,” Jaemin praises you and you have no idea of the effect those two words have on you until the same pleasure of before hits you unexpectedly. 

“And we’re down to two, she won’t last longer, you know,” Jeno says, looking at you with an amused expression, giggling at the way you’re so confused about what he’s talking about. “You came, baby,” he clears your doubt. “Just like before when you were grinding on him like your life depended on it. You had an orgasm.” 

“Ruining all the fun?” Jaemin huffs, glaring at him. 

The black-haired rolls his eyes. “She already had two, I’m not ruining anything.” 

“Can you stop?” Haechan stops them, getting up, towering over you. “I won’t let you come close to her if you keep bickering over bullshits.” 

You don’t say a word, but your body tingles seeing this side of your boyfriend. Haechan is one that knows what he wants but you’ve never seen him like this, so dominant, so in control. It’s hot, and it makes you wetter. 

Haechan would love to eat you out, he’s been dreaming about it since you first started dating, and your cunt glistening is basically inviting him, but he’s leaving that for later, maybe even to somebody else of them, knowing how disgusting his friends are, they wouldn’t flinch at going down on you with a mix of their cum dripping out of you. He has all his life with you to eat your pussy and leave you like a trembling mess, and even if you don’t know, he’s going to make sure to do that. 

“Want to help me with my pain, baby?” He asks and you frown. 

“You said you weren’t in pain?” 

“Oh, I’m not in pain when you’re paying attention to me, but you left me all hard and throbbing for you,” he pouts, shuffling with his pants and pushing them down his smooth, toned legs. Your eyes wander on them before something bigger catches your eyes. No, it’s not your first time seeing him, but the first time you barely paid attention to it and you’re more than sure it wasn’t that big. 

“You… you are in pain there?” You ask, briefly looking between his legs, pointing with a shy finger, before meeting his warm, brown eyes.

He nods, taking a step back. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation. 

“Damn, she’s obedient,” Mark notices with a small smirk on his face and something about it makes your heart swell with pride. 

“Does it hurt because it’s hard?” 

Haechan smiles, caressing your cheek, fighting the urge to stuff your mouth full and turn you into a crying mess, but it’s hard when you’re looking at him like that, big eyes and a genuinely concerned pout on your lips. 

“Kinda,” he replies. “I’m so hard because of you. We are hard because of you.” You turn around, looking at them but they’re all completely dressed up and that hits you, you’re so exposed while they’re not, and… “This is the effect you have on us.” 

“Oh, that’s not good. Why do I bring you pain?” 

“You don’t bring us pain,” he chuckles, thumb caressing your lower lip, “not if you take care of it.” 

“Do you want to take care of us?” Jeno asks, making you look at him. 

You nod eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I want to be good. Want to make you feel good just like Nana did with me.” 

Haechan smiles before moving closer to you, holding the base of his cock in his hands. “I’ll guide you, okay? If anything makes you uncomfortable just tap my thighs and I’ll stop.” 

You nod, anticipation bubbling into you. Fear long gone as this feels all new and exciting. And your competitiveness kicks in when you remind yourself that the others are watching. You want to be good. You want to make them want you even more. You want to prove to them you can be as good as them. 

“Touch it,” he says and your hand hesitantly moves to wrap around it, you follow his action and wrap around his base before he orders you to move up and down. It feels weird. It’s heavy and hard, so damn hard a small part of you is jumping with pride because you are the cause of that. 

You don’t know what comes over you but you lean in, tongue sticking out to lick his tip, dripping something salty and white. 

They gasp and you pull away immediately, taken aback. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Your eyes are apologetically looking at all of them as if you’re also doing something to them. 

“No, no,” Mark replies, voice clipped and face…red? 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m good,” he cuts you off and you don’t focus on him when Haechan clears his throat and you turn to him. 

“Can you take it all in your mouth?” 

Your eyes widen. All of it? 

“Sure,” you reply, swallowing your fear, pretending that you know exactly what you’re doing but you don’t know a thing. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even fear you’re going to get burned. 

You knit your brows when he pushes into your open mouth, it’s heavy on your tongue and big, so big you don’t know how you’re going to take it all since he’s not even halfway in and you’re already gagging. Has your gag reflex always been so terrible? 

“Oh, poor baby,” you hear Jaemin’s voice come from beside you, you guess he’s standing next to you now, but you don’t move your eyes to check, trying to concentrate on the big cock your boyfriend was trying to make you take. “Is it too much for you?” 

It is. 

But you’re too proud to give it to him. So you shake your head, a terrible mistake that makes Haechan slip into you more and you gag on it. 

They all laugh and you look up at Donghyuck trying to look menacing but you only look funny like that, cute, his cute little baby always, but funny. 

“Maybe, Nana is right,” he says, caressing your cheek, finding it endearing how you’re still holding him in, ignoring the way some spit is already dripping out of the corner of your mouth. And he didn’t start moving yet. “Maybe you can’t take it.” 

You cough when he pulls out, spit trickling down your chin but the thought of wiping it off doesn’t even cross your mind. You want to prove a point, make them proud. 

“I can, I can take it,” you squeak, shifting on your knees, the hard floor starting to burn on your skin. “Please, give me another chance, I just need to get used to it,” you say before lowering your voice and eyes. “It’s big.” 

They’d like to tease you more at how shy you are, mocking you to repeat it, this time looking at his eyes and saying that word, but they all leave it as a thought. Because if it might not be too much for you — it is — but it’s definitely getting too much for them. 

None of them is known for being patient, maybe Jeno, when he’s in the right mood. But they all move like beasts, eager to get more, and fast, and this is taking way too long. It’s hot, but none of them is used to ease people into sex, nobody else they ever fucked with would take so much to jump on their cock and come out of there looking like a mess. But you on the other hand… 

“We’ll try one last time, baby,” Haechan coos, “but if you disappoint me, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want it, right?” 

You shake your head. You have no idea what kind of punishment he’s talking about, but you don’t even want to find out. You will make him feel good. 

Haechan groans and throws his head back when you take all his length inside, trying to ignore the way the fat tip of his cock is pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You think that could turn him off, but apparently, the more you struggle, the happier he gets. And the same thing applies to the lewd sounds, you find them disgusting and embarrassing even, but the four men around you don’t feel the same. 

It’s hot seeing you put so much effort into something so lewd, innocently doing your best to make him feel good, staining your purity with squelching sounds, muffled moans and bobbing head. Your pretty pink camisole still covering your upper body, staining with spit and pre-cum dripping out your messy first blowjob. 

It’s not even the kind that Haechan loves the most, he might be eager but he’s rather neat — unlike somebody else — but he doesn’t care right now, he can’t, not even if usually, the feeling of so much drool spilling down his balls would make him cringe, right now it’s making him even harder. 

And after all, you will learn. 

They were all sure that by the end of the night they would’ve turned you into a completely different person. Addicted to their cocks and sex. 

And you are on the right road they want you to follow because as dirty as it feels, as much the piercing gaze of these men and their groans and dirty words makes you want to hide, they are once again igniting a spark inside of you. 

Your thighs clench and you knit your brows when you feel your clit throb and your pussy clench around nothing, an embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of you. How much do you like them? 

You think they don’t catch on it, too busy with the way your lips wrap around your boyfriend’s cock and your lashes flutter, looking up at him. 

But Mark sees the way you act. He has been studying you for a while, going crazy at the way you never realize how hot you are. He hates to admit it but he has fantasized about you a lot. You were rather physical with him because he seems so nice and sweet and, after all, he is Haechan’s best friend, so you never hesitated to be all over him when your boyfriend wasn’t around, hugging him longer than you did with others, even daring to kiss him on the cheeks when you greeted each other, and you weirdly loved his hands. 

So, he was going to give you a taste of it because he wanted to see your innocent façade fall apart. 

You almost choke more around Hyuck’s dick when you feel a hand between your legs and a body press against your back. 

“Hi, babe.” Mark’s voice hits your lobe and your ass press back against him, silently, and shamelessly, asking him to help you. “Are you in pain again?” 

You nod, try to, considering Haechan now has grabbed a fistful of your hair and is guiding you on his cock with more force. 

Mark only laughs, he doesn’t ask if you want his fingers, if you’re ready to take his fingers, eventually, you’ll have to get used to it, right? And your body seems more than ready anyway. And as expected, it’s not that hard to slip a finger inside you, your tight walls relaxing around him and welcoming in with ease even if it’s your first time. 

Your head falls back, pulling away from Haechan’s firm hold and spluttering when your mouth is finally empty again. 

“Fuck,” Jaemin moans, and then brings one hand on your face, you expect him to wipe the mess away, but instead he smears it around your face, making you gasp and blink in surprise. “What, bunny?” He snickers, a mocking smirk on his lips. “You look so pretty like this, like a painting.” 

You can’t see yourself, so you seek reassurance from your boyfriend that is looking at you with a tender — wicked — smile. “He’s right, you’re so pretty like this.” 

You don’t reply, a bit because you can do nothing but accept it and a bit because when Mark pushes a second finger inside, it feels too much. 

“Mark, oh… wow,” you whimper, head falling to stare between your legs how his hand is pressing against your clit and his wrist is moving to guide the movements inside of you.  

“Oh, wow?” Jeno chuckles, mocking you. “Do you ever swear?” 

You stammer, head snapping at him in surprise. He scares you because you can’t read him. He had barely touched you or teased you and you don’t know what to expect, he seems sweet, but is he? Are they? You don’t have time to dwell on them or their kindness because Haechan grabs your hair again, tugging at it harshly enough to make you groan in pain. 

You look at him asking for an explanation, but he just pushes his cock inside your mouth. He doesn’t have the patience to teach you with words anymore, he will throw you straight into the practice ground, hoping you will make it out alive. 

“I told you I don’t want to be disappointed,” he groans, hips moving with a steady, fast rhythm, now truly not caring if you can take it or not. “You were doing so good, baby, keep taking my cock. Show me how much love me. You love me, right?” 

You hum around him and you get that it must feel good because his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten around your hair. So you do it again, this time not to answer him, but you guess the sounds coming out of your lips are caused by Mark’s fingers inside you. 

Your eyes snap in panic toward Jaemin when you see him pick up his phone and as soon as Haechan frees your mouth you ask, “What — what are you doing?” 

“Filming you,” he smiles. A sweet, toothy smile that hides the grin in his eyes and the way the sight of you, teary eyes, ruined mascara starting to pool under your eyes, spit streaked chin and cheeks as the saliva dries on your beautiful skin, is making his cock rock hard.  

“But — but why?” 

“Because you need to learn, remember?” Surely, not because he was going to watch this over and over again and imagine you were kneeling between his legs letting him facefuck you. He would never do that. “You can watch this over and over again and get better with time.” 

“Oh,” you whisper. That makes sense. “But no one else will see this, right?” 

Jaemin shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, and laughing when your eyelids fall close at the gentle touch and a sweet whimper rolls out of your lips. “No one, bunny.” 

Your eyes look for Haechan’s consent again and when he smiles at you, your lips fall open again. When he starts moving inside you again it feels more comfortable than before, slowly getting used to the intrusion and his strength, and surely Mark’s fingers inside you are making the whole thing more enjoyable too.

More moans vibrate around his length as the two digits inside you curl and brush against a spot that makes your toes curl and your breath shorten. You don’t know what Mark is doing, but he’s so good at it because you know you never felt like this before. 

You want to warn them that you feel the same sensation build up in your stomach again, but you can’t, Haechan has no intention to pull out of you when he’s so close, and the orgasm hits so good, you wouldn’t say a thing even if your mouth was free. 

You think Haechan is going to let go of you but instead, he pushes deeper into your mouth, making you gasp for air through your nose, pressing your face so far that your nose nuzzles against the fuzzy layer of hair over his cock, and you almost choke when something warm and salty fills your throat. When he lets go of you, you gasp and are about to spit it on the floor when your boyfriend grabs your head and pulls you back by your hair. 

“Swallow it,” his voice is unexpectedly deep and stern and it’s enough to make you obey him with no hesitation, no matter how wrong and dirty it all feels. “Good girl.” You don’t know what’s kicking in your brain but the way he’s demanding and then sweet as he praises you, it’s making your head spin and want more. 

“What — what is — what was that?” You ask, squeezing your eyes, blinking some tears away. 

Haechan grins, kneeling at your level to kiss you. It’s soft, like the usual kiss he gives you when you cuddle in your bedroom, and it feels… romantic. As if there aren’t three hungry gazes staring into you, imagining the worst things to do to you. 

“That’s my cum, baby. Just like the one that is dripping out of you now.” 

Your eyes wander away from his, too shy and conscious about the mess between your legs. 

“It’s… it’s because you like me a lot?” 

He nods, “And because you’ve been such a good girl sucking my cock.” 

The vulgar words hit your core, and you expect to shy away but somehow, they make your pussy clench around nothing again. 

Is your body seeking more? Are they going to give it to you? 

“My knees burn,” you whisper, expecting Haechan to do something but you jolt in surprise when Jeno walks toward you and lifts you up. 

“Should we finish this in the bedroom?” He’s holding you in his arms, roughly hoisting you on his shoulder as if you are a ragdoll but he’s talking to Haechan. You get flustered because your ass is literally next to his face and you flinch when he bites down on the soft, plump skin. 

“No, the bedroom, no,” you cry. And they quirk a brow, looking between you and Haechan. 

“Bedroom,” your boyfriend orders and Jeno swiftly walks toward the room. 

“Jeno, no,” you cry uselessly, and when he opens the door, you want to die. 

“Oh,” he whispers, smirking when he eyes the bed. 

“So that’s what you didn’t want us to see?” This time is Jaemin mocking you, you get it by now that he looks sweet and gentle but under that façade hides a monster. 

“Your teddy bear?” Mark asks amused, staring at the toy laying in the middle of the bed, between crumpled-up sheets. You really tried to make it go away alone, didn’t you? 

“It hurt too much, I didn’t know what to do.” You confess even if they weren’t thinking at that, except Mark, of course. So they are even more surprised when they see a patch of the teddy bear slightly stained with your cum. 

“Oh, poor baby,” Jeno coos, laying you on the bed with no care at all. “Your pussy was begging for so much attention you just had to fuck yourself on your plushie.” 

Now that was too dirty for you to take. You had no idea you were doing that, it was just your habit to hug the toy with your legs and when you felt that the friction felt good your body started moving alone. 

“I didn’t know,” you defend. 

Jeno snickers, “I’m starting to think you’re playing a character. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you want to make us believe.” 

“No — no, I swear, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it was bad.” 

“It’s not bad,” Mark chimes in. “It’s never bad if it makes you feel good.” 

You’d argue with that, if it was another occasion, if you weren’t spread open with Jeno between your legs, fingers playing again with your sensitive clit, and teasing your glistening entrance. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, starting to hate how his fingertips are only brushing over your sensitive skin and not bringing you any pleasure. 

“Damn, already addicted to it?” Haechan mocks you and you don’t expect that comment to come from him. He had been nothing but nice with you tonight, apart from when he was shoving his cock into your mouth. 

“It feels good,” you mumble, hiding your face with your hands but Jaemin groans and pulls your hands apart. 

“I think we should keep these busy,” he says before winking at Mark. Your eyes widen when they both get rid of their clothes, cocks springing free, hard and thick, smeared with pre-cum at the tip. You can’t even look away because you are too amazed by them, and your gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the man at the end of the bed and the one on your left. 

You only lift your gaze when Mark climbs on the bed and kneels next to your face, well, until then, because when his cock hovers over you, you can only keep your eyes there. 

“Hey, you look at theirs with more love than you looked at mine,” Haechan scolds, now sitting next to Jeno that is still teasing your dripping cunt.  

You apologize feebly, wanting to tell him that you were too shocked by his before to have a positive reaction to it. 

“Are you going to punish me?” 

Haechan snorts but shakes his head. “I’m going to make you feel good. Show you how good my cock will make you feel.” 

“My mouth again?” 

“No, baby,” he smiles. “Here.” 

Your eyes widen when his hand palms your cunt, Jeno is sitting next to him, giving him space to fit perfectly between your bent open legs. 

“Inside?” It comes out as dry as your throat while your brain tries to think how it could fit in you. 

He clicks his tongue, “Where else?” 

“But it’s… it’s never going to fit.” You say when he starts rubbing his cockhead against your folds, collecting the wetness. 

“I promise you it will fit,” he reassures you, wrapping the hand that isn’t around the base of his cock on your hip and caressing gently, a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at you, hungry like a hunter that just got his prey after running after it for days. He’s drooling over you and he’s not sure he can promise you he’ll be gentle. 

“Are — are you sure it will feel good?” 

“Best you’ve ever felt,” he replies. “I promise, I’d never hurt you, you know.” 

You gulp, looking at how big he is and then your tummy, thinking that it’s impossible for all that to slip into you and feel good. And then you meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way he never did and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. 

“Just the tip,” he whispers, looking into your eyes before he brings them back where your bodies are touching and sinks into you, pussy fluttering around his thick tip and already squeezing tight. 

Your head rolls back and your jaw clenches as a gritted moan ripples through your throat. It’s nothing like Mark’s fingers. The stretch is triple it and even if it doesn’t hurt it still feels too much to take. You surely aren’t sure you could deal with it. 

You’re about to protest, moving a hand between your bodies to stop him but he sinks into you without a warning, and the high, broken moan you let out shouldn’t turn him —them— on so much, but it does. 

You only mumble senseless things, hiding your face between the pillow and Jaemin’s thigh, and they all wonder what will draw a curse out of your pretty, pure lips. 

“Big,” you cry, as if saying it out loud will change the fact his cock is stretching you wide and reaching parts you didn’t even know you had until two seconds ago. 

“You can take it,” Haechan reassures you, cooing against your ear as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I’ll take it slow, okay?” He has to try, he knows the others won’t take it easy on you, and he has to wreck you but not too much to the point you can’t take it anymore. He’s already scared you can barely take this, he wonders how you will go through more. 

But it’s easier said than done and the slow pace of long and intense thrusts only lasts what it lasts. 

“Hyuck,” your voice breaks, and tears start to form in your eyes when he picks up a rhythm you can’t keep up with, not that you’re doing anything, just laying there, half-naked, and looking over at the three men hovering you with lidded eyes. 

You think you’re pitying them but completely different thoughts are running through their minds. Jaemin and Mark especially are having a ball seeing you like this, helpless and yet needy for more. You’re falling apart slowly, lips moving without emitting a sound as not even you know if you want him to stop or if you want more. 

You’re so lost in the pleasure and thelittle discomfort that you forget for a moment Jeno is there too, and when his hand touches your thigh, you jump in surprise. 

“It’s just me, angel,” he hums, smiling at you, and you nod, biting your lips to muffle the moans. 

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin scolds you, slapping his cock against your lips to make you let go of them. “You will bleed.” He’s messing with you, playing you like a violin, fucking up with your brain more than he’s doing with your body. And yet, you fall for it, freeing your lower lip, not holding back anymore. 

“Hyuck,” you cry again when he lifts your hips and slides deeper into you, “I can’t.” 

“You can,” he groans back, holding your hips with more force and you’re sure your body will remind you of that hold for days. “You are taking me. Look at how good — fuck — you feel. Dripping, tight pussy sucking me in.” 

Your mouth opens to complain, or to let out a moan, you’re not even sure anymore, but Jaemin shushes you. When the tip of his cock slaps your cheek you’re startled, meeting his gaze in surprise. 

“Gimme your hand, bunny,” he purrs. And you don’t know why you find that petname so hot coming out of his lips, probably it’s the way he says it, the way his lips curl when he places it at the end of a sentence, so sweetly and yet with the intention of breaking you. You don’t know it, you can’t know it, but it’s like you sense it, and you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you. 

So, you obediently give him his hand, soft fingers wrapping around yours before he brings your hand on his dick. 

“See how hard I am for you? How much I like you?” 

You nod, licking your lips, feeling your throat get dryer because Haechan is still fucking into you, pounding deep and hard and no, it doesn’t feel bad, but it’s too intense and you don’t know how to deal with so much pleasure. You feel like it’s getting to your head, like all your sanity is slowly being dragged out of you, your hold on control is growing thin and you don’t know what to do. You should panic, some sort of self-defense should tell you to run, but you don’t want to. You want to see how far this can go, how much more you can feel. Finally liberated to being pushed into a world you’ve been ignoring for so long, too long. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing we’re so hard just from watching you.” He starts moving your hands on him and when Mark does the same after grabbing your other hand, you turn to him. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration, and he’s lost looking at your pretty, manicured hand and how it looks so beautiful on his hard girth. And he wonders how you can be so delicate and pure even now. 

“You’re so pretty,” Mark whispers when he meets your glossy eyes. And you’d like to let yourself get lost in the compliment but with your boyfriend fucking you feverishly, slamming into you after pulling all the way out, creating disgusting, lewd sounds, you can’t think of anything else. 

“So fucking good for me,” Haechan moans, throwing his head back and biting his lips, and through wet lashes, you can’t help but feel happy because you are making him feel this good. He looks even more beautiful than usual, almost as if he has a different glow radiating from him, and you like to think it’s because of you. 

And probably that thought makes you convulse more under him as you come again, squeezing him tight, the movements on Jaemin and Mark’s cock, coming to a stop as the pleasure overtakes you. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” Jaemin grunts, slapping your cheek with his cock again. “Come on, be good and make us feel good. You’re not selfish, right?” 

You shake your head, mind hazed by the pleasure that dims but doesn’t seem to stop. 

“Good, be a good little play doll and make us feel good.” 

“Open up,” Mark says, pushing his cock to your mouth. You think he’s going to do the same thing your boyfriend did before but you’re surprised when he only teases your mouth with his tip, and you’re even more surprised when Jaemin turns you around and does the same. They keep teasing you like this, and without them telling you, you eagerly start to suck on them, sucking more of their length in, cheeks hollowing as you shily try to do more to make them happy. 

So you set your own pace, turning side to side with a pretty decent rhythm to suck Mark first and then pass on Jaemin. Blowing them with more strength every time that you hear their groans and moans grow bigger, you find that so exciting, and you think it’s a shame you can’t see their faces contorted in pleasure but sucking on them —united to your boyfriend’s cock — makes your eyes fall close in bliss. 

And Haechan loses it completely, he pushes your legs up, pressing them against your chest, your eyes snapping open in surprise and because you can feel him even more. 

“Hyuck, no,” you wail, tears dripping down your temples, drying in your hair. 

“Shut up,” he retorts, leaning in, making his friends pull away, kissing you harshly, not caring that his friends’ cocks are so close to his face and were into your mouth just a few seconds ago. He needs you. “You feel so fucking good, babe. You’re making me so — fuck — so happy.” 

You smile when he pulls away but once again Mark and Jaemin are on you. 

You once again think he’s in pain, you think all of them are in pain, when your eyes shoot open and they have a frown on their faces. 

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin whispers through gritted teeth, you don’t get why but you obey and you’re lucky for that because you feel hot liquid spurts on your face and chest and you gasp in surprise. 

That’s the last thing it takes for Haechan to make him come. It’s fucking wrong but fuck, if you’re hot covered in cum, moaning as he stimulates you, chest falling and rising swiftly and nails digging into the sheets. 

“Hyuck,” you cry when the warmth fills you up, coating you in white. 

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “So good.” 

You feel a thumb clean something off your face, well, only off your eyes because you can feel the rest of it stick on your cheeks, lips, neck and probably even forehead. 

When you open them again they’re smiling at you, as if what just happened is the most normal thing in the world. But you’re not any different from them. You feel thrilled. You need more. 

“More,” you plead and their eyes sparkle up. 

“Move.” You don’t expect Jeno to yank your boyfriend away and come between your legs. 

“Hey,” Haechan warns, glaring at his friend. “She’s mine.” 

“Don’t share her if you want her all to yourself,” he retorts before sinking down and cleaning your face from his friends’ cum. You were fucking hot like that he wasn’t going to lick any of it off of you. You eagerly kiss him back when his lips meet yours, but it doesn’t last long, he has other plans and he wants to make them happen as soon as possible. You are a fucking dream, but you’ve not come true, yet, and patience is not a gift God gave him. 

“Jeno,” you yelp when he rips your camisole off of you. 

“Not my fault they weren’t eager to see your boobs,” he smirks, throwing the ripped fabric behind him. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he mumbles, staring at your chest, fondling the skin, and then sucking on your nipples. 

You don’t expect to be that sensitive there, but you are and the way his lips wrap around your bud and suck on it with passion makes your head spin. It feels so good that you don’t even realize you start grinding against him. 

He grins against your skin. “Turned you into a needy mess already?” 

Your eyes shy away and realize that neither Mark nor Jaemin are at your side anymore. But you don’t have time to see what they’re doing because Jeno’s lips are around you again while his fingers tease the other nipple and your brain shuts again. 

Jeno’d love to make you come like this, he’s more than sure he could make you come like this. But he’s not so sure about your stamina and he doesn’t want to risk it. If he doesn’t get into you now he will go insane. 

“Need you.” But it’s you the one that whimpers those words, catching him — them — by surprise. “Jeno, please.” 

“Please what, angel?” He teases, he will drag nasty words out of your pretty lips. 

Normally you would’ve stuttered and begged him to just get what you wanted but right now you’re desperate, his lips and fingers on you, the warmth of your boyfriend’s seed inside, Jeno’s hard cock grinding against your sensitive, hard clit. 

“Please, fuck me.”

Their eyes stare at you in surprise and amusement, shocked and entertained that your shell is coming off, slowly, but all those walls are crashing down. 

He groans and kisses you roughly again, you noticed that even if he’s rough, he’s not messy, and he likes to bite, a lot. On your lower lip, on your neck, and on the soft flesh of your boobs. But you find out you like it. 

“Where are you going?” You panic when he rolls to the side. 

He chuckles, “I’m not leaving you, don’t worry,” his tone is tender but there’s a hint of a mock in it. “Come here,” he pats his lap when he sits on the bed, kicking the teddy bear with his feet to have more space.

“Hey! Mister Teddy,” you complain, crawling on wobbly legs to fix the stuffed toy at the edge of the bed, hoping it could be safe from whatever will keep happening from then on. 

“Mister Teddy?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Thought you were more creative.” 

“I was ten when I got it,” you reply, plopping on the mattress next to it. 

“Damn, he’s really living all your first adventures,” Jaemin laughs, looking at the toy briefly and not catching your glare. 

“Come here,” Jeno calls you again, spreading his legs more, giving you space to kneel between them. 

“I’m leaking,” you whisper, feeling discomfort when cum starts dripping out of you due to the position; hands and knees, ass perched up as you crawl to him. 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stuff you again.” The way he’s so vulgar about it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. You find something so hot about the contrast between you and them, even your boyfriend and Jaemin whom you always imagined were the calmest and most similar to you. It’s clear that this is completely different from the everyday world. 

“Why are you still covered?” You ask timidly, kneeling between his open legs, but not dragging your eyes on his crotch, for some reason he makes you shy. You truly don’t know what to expect from him, one second he looks like he’s indifferent and one later it’s like he wants to eat you alive. 

“Wanted you to unpack the gift,” he jokes, pointing at his black boxers and then at you with a nod of the head.

You lean closer to him, ass perching up, making the three men behind you groan, and you note for the first time that they sound so animalistic, like starved hunters that are just sweet enough to wait for you, their prey, to offer yourself to them. But you leave them in the back of your mind, delicate, manicured fingers, hooking in the bands of his underwear, pulling it down with the help of his hips lifting from the mattress. 

If you were in a cartoon your jaw would be on the floor, and your eyes would be big, coming out of your skull, but you’re in the real world, and no animation can help you take what Jeno has between his legs. 

You gulp, looking at him, finding an amused grin on his face. Oh, he loves that. But you love a challenge, and Haechan wasn’t that much smaller than him so if you took your boyfriend, you could take him, right? Either way, you didn’t care much how impossible that felt. You needed more. And you just seemed addicted to the feelings that sex brought along, throwing yourself into something you weren’t ready for. 

“Do I suck you?” 

“Honey,” he snorts, “I need more than your mouth.” 

“But shouldn’t I lay? How are you going to fuck me like that?” 

They totally weren’t used to hearing those words slip out of your mouth, and it was absurd how normal, clean, and innocent they still sounded coming from you. You were an angel sent on earth, there was no other explanation they could give themselves. 

After the first shock, he shakes his head and signals you to crawl closer. “Come close, I don’t bite.” 

You snicker because he bites very much but you do as he ordered. 

“I want you to ride me.” 

You tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a cute, confused expression and he has to take a deep breath not to flip you over and piston into you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. 

“Slide down on my cock and I’ll guide you for the rest.” He tells you instead, somehow gaining some composure back to hide how desperate he is to have you. 

You hum hesitantly, he holds his cock up for you, and you slowly sink on it. 

“Fuck,” you curse when he’s halfway in, already feeling like he’s splitting you in two, and you are soaking wet and have already been stretched by Haechan before. “You’re too much.” 

“I’m in, angel,” he reassures you through gritted teeth because you are tight and warm, and he feels like a teenage boy about to come just by that. It’s pathetic almost, as if this is his first pussy and his body doesn’t know how to react. “Just bottom out, I promise it will feel good.” 

You trust him, and so, sinking your nails into his shoulders, you reach the base. You decide to also blame it on the position but fuck, if he’s deep into you. 

“Was I good?” You are eager for validation and everybody in the room takes note of that. Haechan already knows it, it’s a thing you have even on non-sexual occasions, but it’s nice to know you crave that even in bed. And the others two can’t wait to use it against you. 

“So good, angel,” he praises you. “Now, move on my cock.”

You hesitate, trying to get what he wants. Feeling time pass by, sensation highlighted by the gazes that are burning your back. Somehow the fact that they are not all over you but patiently waiting and staring at your every move makes you a bit more anxious. “I don’t know how to do it,” you whine in a broken confession, voice cutting because he’s not moving and he’s already fucking with your brain. 

“But you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Want to learn? You’re such a good learner, always been a good, eager student, I’m sure you can be a good student even now.” 

You nod, squeezing your eyes, hoping to unfog your brain and focus on what you have to do. Not only you don’t know how to do what he wants but your brain is far gone. 

“You are big, though,” you weep. “You fill me — fill me so well.” 

Jeno’s nails sink into your skin when your wet insides clench around him. You’re not controlling your body and yet you’re driving him insane. 

“I promise,” he huffs, throwing his head back, shaking his black hair out of his face, and then looking at you, “promise it will feel even better if you start moving. Remember what you did before?” 

“When?” 

“On poor Mr Teddy and Haechan.” 

Your body sparks in flames of shame when he reminds you that, feeling guilty for having done something so dirty with your precious teddy bear and with your boyfriend in front of his friends. But once again, the needs you need to satisfy are making your body go in a different direction. 

So you start grinding your hips back and forth, moaning lowly every time your clit rubs against his pubes. 

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his lips. “Just like that, angel. Keep moving.” 

You whimper when his hands wrap around your waist and Jeno starts fucking you on him, he starts slowly but then his slams get harsher. It takes a while to get what he wants, but you try to follow him as he guides you. 

And soon you start to try different patterns, circling your hips, lifting your body up and down, just grinding, and trying to press in your brain what makes the both of you feel better. When you finally find it, and Jeno leaves you more freedom of movement, you feel on cloud nine. 

“Fuck,” somebody moans behind you, loud enough to remind you that you and Jeno are not alone in the room. “Look at how good you are at this.” Only when more words leave his mouth, you realize it’s Jaemin. 

“Do — do you like me like this?” You ask in a whimper, throwing your head back, the image of the three men pumping their aching boners appearing upside down in your eyes. 

Mark would say that he loves you like this, but keeps it to himself, afraid of crossing lines that are not meant to be crossed. 

“Don’t you see how hard we are for you?” Your boyfriend replies instead. “This is what you do to us.” 

You smile, head moving to fall against Jeno’s forehead, happy with the answer you received. 

“And you?” You groan. “Do you — do you like me?” 

He groans, nose twitching as his face contorts in a frown. “Are you kidding? Don’t you feel how much I like you? Do I — shit — have to prove it more?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out in a whimper, his arms wrap around your frame and he helps you with your thrusts, and then he bites on your lower lip, pulling roughly before he lets go of your soft lips. “Pro—prove me how much you love me.” 

Jeno starts sucking on your nipples. It’s loud and wet, and gets your cunt dripping around him so hard that another orgasm rips out of you before you can do anything. 

“Horny, dumb, baby,” he mocks, slapping your ass cheek, grinning against your boob when you clench down on him at the impact. “Love the pain, don’t you? Love when I hit you,” another loud smack follows. “Love when I bite you,” his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast. “Do you love when I pinch?” He asks, twisting your other nipple in his hand, your toes curling and your stomach closing in a knot again. 

“Yes, love it so much, Jeno, please.”  

“Good, keep being a good girl for me, shit,” he groans. “And take all I give to you. All the pain and all the pleasure.” 

You think he has an addiction to your boobs because he never lets go of them, lips and fingers torturing them, causing more shivers to run down your spine. But you don’t mind, it feels so good that your brain starts slipping down a treacherous path where you have no control anymore. 

And he thinks that too. He might be addicted to you, actually. Because as you bounce up on him, pussy sucking him with eagerness and dripping down his balls, boobs bouncing up and down, he gets lost in your face for a second. Long lashes falling shut on your cheeks, streaked with a messed-up mix of spit, cum, tears and mascara. Swollen soft lips parted in search of air, letting out the prettiest, softest, and most sinful sounds he ever heard. He can only think one thing. 

Haechan is a lucky bastard. 

But he’s not. So he better make the best out of this situation and fuck you more, maybe even make you miss his cock so when Haechan will fuck you again and it won’t feel as good as this you will think of him, how good he made you feel. 

And in the depth of yourself you too wonder if anything else will make you feel this good because you didn’t feel like this before, brain dizzy and barely feeling your body, like you were watching from the outside and yet feeling every sensation. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he moans, face buried in the crook of your neck, groaning when he sniffs you and even if you’re sweating, he can scent the delicate perfume you applied on yourself, so sweet and intoxicating mixing with your natural scent, driving him insane. 

Haechan is a lucky bastard. 

“Gonna give you all of my cum — fuck — fill you ‘til you’re dripping,” he groans, biting on your skin, making you throw your head back. 

He’s about to ask you to beg for it, to push you even more, but once again the words come out of your mouth on your own.

“Give me all,” your voice breaks. “Give me all your cum, please. I want it, want it so much.” 

They broke you. 

That’s Jeno’s last straw, hips stuttering against you harshly, fucking you messily, moaning louder as you come too and your pussy clenches around him more. 

“Fuck,” he groans when your bodies stop convulsing against one another. “You’re so fucking good at this, so perfect.” 

You whine when he rolls you over, and then slips out of you, leaving you empty, gaping, and leaking. It’s humiliating being so exposed, or you’re sure that’s how you should feel, but your brain only screams ‘more.’ 

You don’t have the strength to say it, throat dry and eyes too heavy to even stay open. You blank out for a moment and when you open your eyes again you find Haechan staring at you. 

“You good?” 

You beam at him, a new glow spreading around you, and he smiles back before he leans in to kiss you. You feel hands on your lower body, but you let yourself get lost in this tender moment with your boyfriend. It doesn’t last much though because Jaemin has other plans. 

“You’re so filthy, bunny,” he mocks as he pumps two fingers inside your sensitive cunt, pumping the cum in and then out, grinning dumbly at the lewd image in front of his eyes. Loving how easily your destroyed hole lets three of his fingers in. 

You think he’s weird not because of what he’s doing but the way he acts about it, the way he’s been acting about it all night, but that still doesn’t make you find him unattractive or not hot. Probably it makes you underestimate him. 

“Come here,” Mark calls, and you frown when he lays on the bed next to you. 

“But… I’m tired,” you whine, legs shaking with a shiver since Jaemin is still rubbing his fingers against your walls. 

“Oh, already?” He teases you with a fake-kind pout on his face. You flinch when Jaemin pulls out and smacks your pussy hard, sending electric shocks through your body. 

“Spoiled brat,” he hisses, pinching your thigh. 

“Want us to help but won’t do anything to help us,” Mark complains, giving you a daring glare you don’t really understand. 

You don’t expect Mark to drag you on top of him, making you sit on his abs with little to no care, your muscles screaming in pain. “Princess wants us to do all the job for her.” He eases you up and makes you fall back onto his cock, a loud groan coming out of your lips because he keeps catching you unprepared. And because it seems that no matter how much you get stretched, your cunt still can’t get used to it. And you find out you love-hate this position. 

“Is this how Haechannie treats you?” Your boyfriend sneers at the nickname, plopping on the bed next to you, staring at your fucked out face with an amused grin. He never imagined he would enjoy so much seeing your friends throwing you around. 

“Pampers you.” Mark thrust up into you, leaving you breathless. “Touching you gently.” Another one. “Afraid you may break.” And another, even harder, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

You hum, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes again, palms of your hands falling flat on his chest, feeling his muscles flex every time he lifts your ass up and down on him. Mark’s moving you so easily you should be afraid but your body tingles in excitement and your brain shuts down again. 

“What a surprise you love being treated like this,” he mocks, spanking your ass, chuckling when your cunt clenches around him. “Does it feel good? My big hand against your soft, delicate skin, princess?” 

You whine. The sweet pet name somehow makes you feel like he’s mocking you even more. 

“Answer me,” he groans, cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him while his other hand sends another loud spank on your other ass cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is broken by sobs, salty drops following down swiftly, hitting his skin, too. 

“For how long you planned on keeping it a secret from me?” Haechan asks, kneeling next to Mark and grabbing you by the hair so he can lift you up, pulling you away from his friend’s body. “Had to put on a show in front of my friend so I would snap and let them fuck you and ruin you, uh?” 

“No — no, I — I swear, I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know?” His usual cocky smirk creeps on your boyfriend’s face as his hold in your hair gets stronger and drags an unexpected moan out of your lips. And he thinks that he’s going to have so much fun turning you into an even needier, kinkier mess from now on.

You shake your head, silently telling him with your eyes that you were honest before, that you never imagined that pain could lead to this pleasure. 

“Come on, leave her alone. Don’t you see that she means it? She’s just such a good doll that learns so easily what we want from her. Aren’t you?” Jeno reaches you too, coming to the other side, turning your face to stare at him. 

“I’m — I’m not a doll,” you cry, but in reality, you don’t mind being called that. You love dolls. They are pretty. And if they think you are one, you don’t care. It just feels a bit weird to be called one in this context. 

“But you’re so pretty and love to play with us,” he pouts, kissing you slowly, cupping your ass harshly before he smacks you again. “You love playing with us, don’t you?” 

You nod, falling backward when Mark hits a spot into you that makes your toes curl, and luckily you fall into Jaemin’s strong chest and arms. 

“Careful, baby. Dolls can break.” You can hear his evil smirk but it still doesn’t prepare you for what he’s about to do to you. 

The scream you let out dies in your throat when you feel him tease your rim. 

“Damn, honey, I didn’t even push in,” he laughs at your reaction, feeling your body tense. 

“I — I, what are you doing?” You turn your head around when he rests his chin on your shoulder and he’s smiling at you. Fucking evil. 

“Filling your pretty ass,” Jaemin replies nonchalantly, batting his lashes at you.  

“That’s… that’s…” 

“Nasty?” He finishes for you and you nod, biting your lips because Mark is fucking up into you faster and Jeno and Haechan are sucking your nipples and you feel like you’re about to explode. 

“But we are nasty,” he grins. If your brain was still with you, you would’ve told him that he is nasty, but you’re too far gone to bicker with him now. 

But you still feel that that place is wrong. 

“I don’t, I don’t think…” you bite your lips, eyes squeezing as you try to let out words that make sense. “Nothing should go there.” 

“You think Nana would put something there if it shouldn’t? You think Nana would ever hurt you or do something you won’t like?” 

You think about it, or pretend to think about it, because at this point your brain has no intention of collaborating, and also you really don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, telling you that what’s about to happen is even dirtier than everything else that already happened but you have no idea about it. So you trust him, even if no, you don’t know if he would ever do something to hurt you, because you thought he was nice and he’s surprising you more and more. 

When you shake your head and arch your ass back against him, Jaemin smirks and winks at Haechan that is looking at the two of you with an amused smile on his face. 

“Too good,” you whimper instead, not even worrying anymore that his wet finger — covered in lube or cum, or both, you’re not really sure about it — is prodding at your entrance and pushing in. 

“Jae —” his name doesn’t come out of your mouth because everything that is happening to you is getting to your head. 

“Shh, bunny,” he purrs against your earlobe, kissing it before moving to leave wet kisses on your neck. Why the hell is he so messy? “It won’t hurt you. I’ll prep you well to take my cock.” 

“Your — your cock?” 

“Yes, bunny, you’ve been so good, you deserve it.” 

“I deserve it,” you repeat mindlessly, letting your body relax in his hold, strong arm wrapped around your waist, following the way Mark is moving you on him. 

“Shit,” Mark moans, you’re squeezing him in every time that Jaemin adds another finger. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, shocked that Jaemin’s fingers are not hurting you at all, not even when you have Mark pressing into you from the front. 

“Nasty princess,” Jeno groans, biting down on the soft, smooth skin of your breast, making you hiss. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this. Are you grateful for this?” 

You nod, meeting his eyes, filled with lust. 

“You are? Why don’t you thank us?” He teases, starting to rub your clit, flicking it fast enough to make you clench even more around Mark. “Come on, say thank you.” 

“I… nghh,” you cry out. 

“No, baby. Thank you. It’s easy, even a dumb, nasty princess like you could do it. You just have to repeat. Or are you so cock drunk you can’t even thank us for what we’re giving you? We’re taking care of you, aren’t we?” 

You nod enthusiastically but still no words slip out of you. 

“We took away your pain,” he grunts, cupping your chin and kissing you harshly, letting his tongue play inside your mouth. “You begged for us to help you and we did. Say thank you.” 

You groan when you feel all of them move faster on a different part of your body, testing your brain to come up with two simple words. “Tha-thank you,” you breathe out, hand searching for your boyfriend’s hand and holding it tight when he locks his fingers with yours as his mouth keeps moving on your breast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant sounding more like a plead for more. 

“Good girl,” Jeno praises, biting your lower lip again before he kisses you roughly. 

“If she was good she would fuck herself on me,” Mark growls and your glossy eyes fall on him. You are letting him do all the job and you can’t promise him you have the strength to help. 

“I’m — I’m sorry,” you reply, hoping he can forgive you. 

“Then start fucking yourself on me, if you’re really sorry,” he orders and he stops moving, leaving you to complain at the loss of pleasure. 

You knit your brows, trying to find support on the other three men around you that are still stimulating you, and your hips start moving. You replicate what you did before with Jeno but now you find it even harder. Your body aches in pain and trembles in pleasure. And it’s all getting to your head. But somehow you manage to move, it’s like your body is moving on its own, it’s like it has already learned all the tricks they have been teaching you all night. 

“See, you can do it if you don’t act like a spoiled, lazy brat,” Mark praises, throwing his head back. 

When you feel something big and fat press against your rim, your eyes snap open and Mark’s comments slip into the back of your brain. 

“Jaemin what are — what are you doing?” You cry out, voice choking in your throat.

“I told you,” he says, pushing you down, closer to the man underneath you, biting his lips as he watches your ass bounce back and forth on Mark. “Fucking your pretty ass.”

You totally underestimated Jaemin. 

“Fuck,” you scream when he slams inside you completely and starts fucking you right away. Your body collapses on Mark and you hear him chuckle deeply against your ear. 

“Nana,” you cry out, biting down on Mark’s shoulder, making him hiss, more in surprise than pain. He told you he was going to fuck you there, but you thought he was going to do it after, not with Mark inside you. 

“Fuck, bunny, you’re made for this,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as his hands wrap around your waist and fucks deep into your other hole. 

“Mark,” you whimper, tears flooding down your face like a river in full. It’s not painful like you expected it to be, it sets your body on fire, bliss running in your veins along with your blood, and before you can even notice you come again. It’s long and more intense than before and you feel like you’re about to pass out, but two arms pull you up. You don’t know who’s doing what, but you feel hands and lips all over you, kissing, biting, pinching. You guess the harsher motions come from Jeno and the gentle ones from your boyfriend but as you faintly make out their grins and chuckles, you’re not really sure about who’s doing what. 

“You fucking love this, fuck,” Jaemin mocks. “Such a filthy doll, so nasty, so needy.” 

“Are you going to beg for our cocks again?” Mark asks. “Gonna crawl around the — fuck — living room every time we come around here. Letting us use you like the pretty fuckdoll that you are.” 

Haechan whispers ‘you wish’ but seeing how much he’s loving this night, he wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re his and you will always be, and a little fun never hurt anybody. 

“Yes,” the word slips out of your mind without you thinking about it. 

“Yes?” Jeno snickers. 

“No, I mean — I mean, I…” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Haechan whispers, tugging your hair again and staring at your wrecked face. “Nothing wrong with being our pretty toy. Nothing wrong with craving cocks so much after your first time.” 

You hum, but no thought is actually crossing your mind. It’s like the more they fill you up, the more your brain empties. 

And the strange thing is that you don’t mind. You truly love this feeling of having no power while they do whatever they want with you. 

And the normal–every day–you would be surprised to hear you beg for more, using such filthy words. But right now, that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Please,” you moan. “Give me more. Uh, give me — give me your cum.” 

Jaemin curses gutturally, throwing his head back before his forehead dips again against your shoulder. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” He knows you’ll haunt his days and nights to come, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to look at you as he did before. 

And as if you want to prove him a point, your hips start to grind on them, somehow finding the right pace to fuck against them while he and Mark keep railing you at their perfect rhythm. 

You hear Mark’s moans get higher and slightly whinier, and when you open your eyes to look at him, you smile faintly, falling forward and planting your hands at the sides of his head. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, biting his lips to don’t bite yours. He can’t believe you greeted them some hours ago looking like the most perfect, innocent, well-behaved girl, and now you’re letting them destroy you and are still begging for more. His brain replays images of you before, in your pretty, pink nightwear, with your sweet, loving smile, a thin layer of rosé eyeshadow, and some mascara on your lashes, and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there’s nothing of it left. You look like a mess. 

“Come here,” he encourages you, and you lean closer, a choked moan trapping in your mouth when his tongue lays flat on your cheek and he licks your tears away. “Gotta keep you clean, baby.” 

“That’s hot,” your boyfriend groans beside you, and for a second, you think again if any of this that is happening tonight is normal. Do other boyfriends do this too? Did he ever do this with their girlfriends when they were dating? But you shrug it off because wrong or right, you don’t care. Mark is right, if it feels good, that’s all that matters.

And you feel the same, strong and violent sensation built up in your body. They are close too since their thrusts against you are messier and they are both squeezing the skin on your waist to have a grip on the pleasure running through them. 

“Can fucking feel you,” Jaemin moans, pressing a hand against the small of your back, pushing you further down and making your ass arch up. You get he’s talking to Mark, and you find it weirdly exciting that they can feel each other through your thin walls separating them. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good.” You groan and burn in shame when he spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your wrecked rim, adding to the mess of cum and lube.

“Nana,” you cry out his name and he could come only hearing that. It comes out so well from your lips, so sweet and pure while he wrecks you and does the most disgusting things ever. 

“Is Nana making you feel good, bunny? Do you like how Nana’s cock fills your pretty, tight hole?” He coos, voice as sweet as the most temping sin. 

“Ye-yes, so good,” you moan, some drool spilling on Mark’s shoulder, too fucked out to care about it and control your body. It feels too good. Head spinning and muscles shaking as you know you’re close again. “Please, I’m — I’m close. Fuck me harder,” you wail and they both groan, obeying. Your boyfriend looks at you after clicking his tongue, thinking you will make him go insane, and then meets Jeno’s eyes, looking at him as if he’s silently reminding him how fucking lucky he is to have you. And Haechan only grins, because he knows. He’s so lucky that you’re his. 

Jaemin collapses on you, sandwiching you between his and Mark’s body, so closeted in that space that it could almost be claustrophobic and yet it makes you high. You love their skins on yours, heating bodies brushing together in a dirty and wet mess of cum, sweat, and so much more you can’t even tell apart. You love how raw this feels. As if you’re all running after a need you didn’t even know you had, chasing it for dear life. 

The orgasm ripples through the three of you at the same time, loud moans, groans, and wet sounds fill the room. It smells like sex, the air feels so thick that you could cut it. And you feel boneless, the weight of Jaemin’s body pressing you flat against Mark, the shocks of the nth orgasm still running through your tired bones, the faint praises you hear coming from one of them, two, or three, you don’t know. Their voices mix up, just like their lips and hands on your skin.  

When you lay there, gently turned to lay with your back on the mattress by Mark, too much cum dripping out of you, skin burning up, chest heaving swiftly, and wet cheeks, they think you’ve had enough. A weird feeling of pity screaming in the back of their minds to let you go, clean you up, give you some water and put you to sleep… in what bed they have no idea, considering the only safe thing is Mr Teddy.

But they underestimate what they truly did to you. 

“More.” 

They blink repeatedly, looking at each other to make sure none of them is mocking your voice and that’s the real you. 

“Please,” you plead. “Need more. Need you. Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll — I’ll take all you give me,” you mumble, praying them with broken eyes staring at them one by one. 

And that’s all it takes to make them jump on you again. 

They broke you. 

Stained your innocence. 

Dragged any sane and pure thought out of your brain and turned you into modelable mud in their hands. 

Anything they would’ve given to you, you would’ve taken. Accepting it with no second thought of how dirty or wrong it could’ve been. 

And in fact, you don’t. 

“Need to feel how good your pretty, little pussy is,” Jaemin says, sinking into your swollen and sensitive core. “So good.” 

“Nana,” you cry, wrapping your hands around his shoulders when his cock starts rubbing against your velvety walls. 

“It’s good, bunny. I know you love this.” 

You sniffle, rivers of transparent and black tears staining your face, and he throbs inside of you, groaning into your neck when his head falls forward.

You look like a complete mess and yet, is not enough for him. So one hand slips between you and when his fingers rub against your clit, more tears start to spill from your eyes. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, “need to film this. Can I — fuck — can I film you, bunny? Can I film how pretty you look right now? Pretty and messy and dumb.” 

You nod, expecting the flash to blind you when Mark passes him a phone, but Haechan turns on a small lamp at the side of your bed that tints the room with a warm light and is enough to light up your wrecked state. 

He points at your face, caressing it, smearing the mess on your soft cheek, telling you how pretty you look, the pretties doll when you cry. And then he moves it where your bodies meet, the wet, squelching sounds and lewd images being captured by the camera of his phone. 

“You’re going to make me so happy, bunny,” he whispers, angling the phone the best he can as he tries to fuck fast into you, and Jeno is so kind to grab it and film for him. They were only going to have one take and it had to be good. “Gonna think of you every time I’m in pain.” 

A dumb, sweet smile paints on your face, and that’s what it takes to throw him off. After all, you still are the sweet, naïve, girl they are used to know. And he thinks that Haechan — he believes they won’t be so lucky to have you again — will have to break you every single time. And he wishes he was him so bad, so fucking bad. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin growls. “You’ll be so full of us you’ll remember us for days.” He does as he promises, giving you what you asked for, cock throbbing hard into you as he let out longer moans as pleasure overflows him and you at the same time. He comes messily, hips barely moving against you as he empties himself inside and then pulls out, making his seed spurt on your thighs, and lower stomach.

You hum into your boyfriend’s mouth, and your brain spins faster at that. He’s kissing you so gently as his other three friends keep fucking you, teasing you and filling you with their cum as they like. 

A moan ripples from your mouth when his fingers reach your cum-coated mound, you truly have it everywhere now, and he reaches down to move on your clit. 

“Hyuck, no,” you cry, swallowing a scream. 

“No?” Haechan raises a brow, staring at you with a tender-mocking expression. “Sensitive?” 

You nod, blinking your wet lashes as your eyes try to focus on his beautiful face. 

“You’re not sensitive for them, though. I think you can take me, can take your boyfriend.” He smirks, watching your smile fade when you get that he has no intention of having mercy on you. “Can you?” He growls, slapping your clit, making you nod and mumble a thread of ‘yes.’ 

“Good. That’s my fucking good girl.” 

You don’t have time to recover from your orgasm or focus on the mess Jaemin and Haechan made, that you’re getting filled again. 

“Shit,” Mark moans, wide eyes fixated down where he’s fucking into you, pumping the white mess in and out of you. “You feel so good,” he almost cries, squeezing his eyes to imprint in his brain the sensation of your cunt because he’s sure he never felt something so good before and he won’t ever feel something so good again — well, unless Haechan hits his head and lets them have another round with you, but he highly doubts that. And he also knows that the videos Jaemin took —is taking— won’t be enough, that his hand won’t be enough to replicate this, to replicate you. 

“Mark,” you breathe out, glossy, bright eyes looking into his, letting him know how drunk on the feeling you feel, how it is too much, and yet never enough.  

“Yes, baby?” He asks, cupping your breast, kneading and pinching your nipples. 

Your hips buck up at his harsh moves on you, hands slapping against the sheets and moans coming out of your mouth like screams. “Feels good, so good.” 

“Shit, I know,” he replies through gritted teeth. He knows you love this from the way your heat is gripping him tight as you probably came another time, he can’t even tell it anymore, it’s like you’re going through an eternal orgasm; cunt clenching, body squirming, nails sinking in the sheets under you and moans and curses coming out of your mouth. 

Mark wants to make it last longer but your pussy is sucking him in, and he thinks you’re also sucking his life away, and he can’t hold it more, so he comes inside you again. 

Your head rolls back and your nails dig into the sheets when you feel another cock slip into you, Jeno. He’s rough, gripping your flesh tightly, slamming you against him, lost in his pleasure. 

And then they take turns again, and again, at this point, they’re not even fucking you, they’re just putting the tip in and coming inside, not even that deep as they watch the white, sticky substance drip to your ass, mixing with the one that is slowing dripping out of that hole. 

It’s a sick thing. And when you think they can’t do anything worse than that, Jaemin surprises you once again. 

Your eyes widen when you feel something soft and wet wrap around your pussy lips and with the little strength left, you take a glimpse at the man buried between your legs. 

You want to ask what he’s doing but you’re too tired, too shocked, too…too… is too much to do anything else but let your head fall back and let him do whatever he wants. 

“You’re disgusting,” Jeno comments, a grossed-out frown on his face as he looks away from his friend, walking around the bed to reach you on the other side, hard cock in hand as he positions over you, bending his knees on the mattress so he’s at your level. 

You look at him with half-lidded eyes and whine when Haechan pulls away from you, leaving your side empty. 

“Open up,” Jeno orders and your body follows his order in the blink of an eye. “Can let this mouth empty.” 

Jaemin would love to eat you out more, but when Haechan taps his shoulder, he can only take a step back and wait for his turn again. 

Your hips buck up when Haechan enters you. 

“Fucking finally,” he moans, throwing his head back, feeling your warmth again. He’s not jealous of the others, he kept staring at them going at you for so long and he found it so hot. But he only had two orgasms at the start of the night and he needs to feel you again. “All stretched out and dirty. Such a messy baby. Are you my messy baby?”

You nod, choking on Jeno’s cock, lungs burning up as you feel like all your strength is being sucked —fucked— out of you.  

“Fuck,” he hums. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before, can’t believe I let you fool me.” 

You don’t answer. You can’t; Jeno’s cock barely makes you breathe as he fucks your mouth with the same strength he fucked your pussy before, and your mind is too broken to let out words that are not slurred or moans. 

“Didn’t believe me when I told you this would ease the pain —shit— and now look at you,” Haechan coos, hand reaching your neck, feeling Jeno’s shape on your throat. “If only you took it easier, babe —fuck— could’ve —ugh— could’ve had this long ago.” 

You can hear the wet sounds of Mark and Jaemin’s cocks, jacking off swiftly, and you wonder how much more they have to give you and how it doesn’t hurt, because it’s starting to hurt you, it’s starting to truly feel too much. Pleasure getting unbearable, and yet, they seem to still have more. 

Haechan pushes your legs up and the sound you make is embarrassing, but nobody in the room truly cares, is not the only dirty sound filling the room. And they are too caught up in their world to even worry about a puff of air and squelches of cum coming out of your used holes. 

Jeno pulls out of you, and spit drools out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath. 

“Hyuck, close,” you cry, looking at your boyfriend with tears-streaked face, Jeno’s harsh thrust triggering your tears even more. And the sight would be enough to make him come but he needs to try one thing before coming one last time. 

“Hyuck, fuck,” you scream when he pushes into your rim, stretching your other hole again after it had relaxed. Why they never warn you when they fuck you there?

“Shut up,” he says, kissing you harshly, shielding you from Jeno that huffs in annoyance. “You took Jaemin, you can take me.” 

You nod mindlessly, nails running on his back, leaving red marks behind, and that makes him fuck into you faster. He loves this new side of you, he loves it so much and he wants to see even more. Drag a beast out of you. Turn you into a hunter instead of a prey. 

“Do it again,” he orders and at first you don’t get it but then your nails dig into his back again, scratching him more. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, throwing his head back.

A thought about why he wants you to hurt him crosses your mind for a split second but when the nth orgasm washes over you, your mind goes blank again. And Jeno uses your open mouth to fill you with his hard cock. You almost choke at the unexpected intrusion and your eyes widen when you feel two fingers dig into your sopping wet cunt. 

Jaemin. 

And then a pair of lips on your right nipple. 

Mark. 

Not only they are fucking you but they are fucking with you. 

Do they plan on making you pass out? Because you think you’re really close to that. 

You lose the grip on reality after what happens next, their moans get heavier and louder, cum spills on your face as Jeno pulls out of you, so sensitive he falls on the pillow over you. Your boyfriend comes soon after, the sight of Jeno jacking off on your face, painting your skin white, is the last straw, filling your ass, his cum mixing with Jaemin’s that was almost already all out of you. Mark would love to slip into you again but decides to go for another part of your body, using your limp hand to pump his painfully hard cock and come all over your breasts. 

You think they’re done, but Jaemin has once again something in store for you. 

Your feet plant against the mattress as your hips lift up from it when he starts eating you out, tongue entering your wrecked hole and lips sucking harshly on your clit while one of his hand keeps your body pushed down. 

The others look at you two in a drunken, dreamy gaze, they feel too tired, they have no idea how you’re still taking the last thing Jaemin wants to give you. But you do, you’re still moaning, crying and trembling in his hold, chanting his name and curses. 

And Jaemin gets drunk in that, slurping the mess on your cunt, leaving open-mouthed kisses, tongue lapping flat at your skin as he eats you out greedily, not caring about his, and his friends’, cum, and his fingers slip inside to push you toward the last orgasm. It’s intense, it freezes your body and makes you go slump against the mattress, whimpering and begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Jaemin groans, grabbing his cock and masturbating fast, ruining all the job he did to clean you up when he messily comes on your mound, on your thighs, and your tummy. But you’re still beautiful, in all that mess, in all their fucked-up fantasies, you still look so precious and pure. So he takes one last snap as he smiles at you, looking at him through lidded eyes, and he knows you’ll fall asleep in the blink of an eye. 

“You’re a fucking dream,” he hums, kissing you, licking off some of Jeno’s cum. 

And they all think that too as, too tired to do anything, they collapse next to you. 

All of you would’ve thought about the rest tomorrow morning when everything would’ve sunk in, for now, you are letting it drip. 

hope you liked it!! let me know with comments, reblogs and asks if you want to ♡

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