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nr1chaedickrider · 3 days

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Let's keep going (baby don't stop)

jeongyeon brainrot... wrote this in one sitting... short and nasty ^_^ not proofread

"god baby..."

the sound of skin slapping fills the supposed to be quiet room.

"i'm not feeling well" you remember saying to the others in the living room while watching a movie.

"i'll get her to bed" did jeongyeon say, before leaving the other members.

how did it go from you not feeling well to you gripping the bedsheets though?

her strap thrusts inside your walls and you feel her everywhere.

you wonder where she got all this strength from (not that you're complaining).

maybe it's from her daily hangouts with jihyo, that turn into them going into the gym together and working out.

you just never thought about jeongyeon working out to the point that she can practically manhandle you in every position that exists.

your moans are muffled by the pillow pressed against your head.

jeongyeon's fingers are curled into your hair, her grip tight - almost cutting off your breath by how much pressure she is applying.

you breathe heavily when she pulls you up by your hair, taking breaths like it's a privilege you earned.

the back of your head lays on her shoulder while she toys with your nipples, your orgasm approaching.

you slurr your words, begging jeongyeon to not stop.

"i'm so close-... p-please."

for jeongyeon, it's almost pathetic how you are begging for her to let you cum, while you know that she will make you cum no matter if you beg or not.

the thrill of asking for permission though, in your opinion - just hits different.

her deep voice whispers in your ear, giving you the permission you were searching for, repeating it like a holy mantra.

it doesn't take long for you to cum, creaming around her strap.

she lets you go and fall onto the mattress as you calm down from your orgasm.

it's obvious to anyone that you are already fucked out and dizzy - even after just a few orgasms.

jeongyeon thinks another one wouldn't hurt though.

she moves you around on the bed, making you lay on your stomach as you raise your head and look straight forward.

the mirror you usually use to take pictures of your outfits.

jeongyeon lets out a light chuckle as she makes eye contact with you through the reflection of the mirror.

"like what you see?" she teases, her voice deep and raspy.

she doesn't give you time to answer as she lays on top of you, holding herself up with her strong, buff arms. placing them next to both sides of your head.

"you look so pretty when you're moaning for me,

i thought how about i show you how pretty you actually look, hm?" she whispers into your ear, biting and nibbling a little on your earlobe.

you let out a soft moan in response, your hips moving against her body, seeking for friction.

"god you're so desperate baby.." she lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing the tip of the thick strap against your folds before shoving it completly in, giving you little time to adjust to the fullness.

the moan you let out is louder, making jeongyeon grin as she moves her hand around your neck - putting you in a headlock.

"don't take your eyes away from the mirror." she orders you.

like the good little slut you are, (that's atleast how jeongyeon would call you) you listen to her and obey, looking at yourself as she thrusts into you.

you let out a gasp when she uses her strength in her arm to choke you.

you grip the bedsheets as you let out more whiny moans.

the depth of the night is filled with skin slapping against eachother and your moans combined with jeongyeon's groaning.

she rolls her hips against you, hitting the spots that make your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl into the mattress.

your eyes are still fixiated on the mirror infront of you, starring at the reflection of yourself.

some tears rolling down your cheeks, mascara smeared, your lipstick? smeared. your neck full of love bites.

jeongyeon's thick biceps around your neck makes you moan even louder, holding onto it as your fingers scratch against her, leaving light marks (that are strong enough to make her bite her lip in pain though).

"s-so c-close-" you stutter, having problems to form such a little sentence by how she is cutting off your breathing.

"yeah? my slut is gonna cum so hard for mommy?"

you nod, over and over again.

your moans get louder and louder as jeongyeon fucks into you deeper, harder, and faster.

the big three that get you cumming for her so fast.

your eyes blur as you cum, letting out a loud moan that the others in the living room definetly heard (do you care about it though? not at all).

she fucks you through your orgasm, letting go of your neck as she pulls the completly drenched strap out.

you cough a little, blinking a few times to regain your vision.

you look at her, and she smiles at you sweetly.

your peace is disrupted by a knock though.

"jeongyeon unnie?" jihyo calls out from behind the door.

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angelltheninth · 2 days

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I need you to hear me out-

“Let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else” with Clark Kent for the smutty one liners

Hope you have a good day ✨

Hope you have a good day too!

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time having sex, size difference, gentle sex, strength kink, whimpering, blushing, size kink

Word count: 0.8k

A/N: The MAWS fandom has some kind of hivemind cause we all decided that Clark Kent was 100% a virgin.

2. "Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

"How... I'm sorry... but how am I supposed to fit this," Clark looked at his rock hard cock, "into there?" and then at where his finger was, inside your pussy. He was scared of this exact thing. There was always a chance he was too big for you, Clark was a mountain of a man after all.

You laughed, "Clark, you know that hole can push out a baby right? I can take that big cock of yours." You tried to make him feel better but you were nervous too. Your heartbeat drummed in his ears, making him sweat. When he moved his finger again your pussy clenched around it.

"But my finger is already filling you, what if I hurt you. I can hold back but I can't do anything about my size." He pulled his finger out to compare. His cock was quite a bit thicker. When he wrapped his hand around it the tip still fully peaked out, red and covered with pre. "And you're so small compared to me. What happens if I hurt you and ruin this?"

Doubt was written all over the superhero's face, and fear.

He could stop missiles with his hands, fly around the whole world whenever he wanted, move buildings and crush tanks. Compared to all of that you were as fragile as glass. "Then how about this..." You pulled him closer with your legs, both of you moaning when his cock parted your folds. "Clark, lets ruin ourselves for anyone else."

"What... do you mean?" His blue eyes were full of hesitation. You quirked your eyebrow at him. "Oh, it's your first time too isn't it? See, that's even more reason why I should-" His breath stopped as you took the big tip of his cock, "Should... what was I saying?" He linked a few times, eyes suddenly only able to look at where your bodies joined, "Gosh."

"How. The. Hell. Are. You. Real." You asked between kissing his square jaw. Clark grinned to himself, squaring his shoulders to appear even bigger.

"I'm from space so I'm not sure myself." Good, he seemed to be a bit more relaxed now. "I know you're trying to calm me down, but I can hear your heartbeat too. It feels like I should be the one calming you down, you're the one who'll take... it."

"It? And what exactly will I take, hm Clark?" Rolling your hips downwards you took him past his cockhead, your pussy clenching and loosening around him.

His blush went all the way down his chest. Clark never cursed, dirty talk was new to him. He did try his best, he knew you enjoyed it, hearing him say all the filthy things.

"My... cock, you'll take as much as you can. I'd love if you could take all of actually! But please don't push yourself to." Always so sweet. You nodded and urged him forward again, little by little, he probably didn't even feel pushing past your hymen but you sure did. "Can I keep going? You got really tight, did that hurt?"

"You... feel bigger than you look. Fuck, I love it. I think I'm already addicted to your big cock." You had no problem admitting that, the heat between your legs, the pressure and fullness was already getting to your head.

"My big... oh my gosh." His eyes shut closed, focusing on how he feels, trying to hone in on the increasing heartbeat, the pulsing and drumming of his own heart. He wanted to be here in this moment, with nothing from the outside world interfering. As he nudged his hips forward he suddenly found them pressed against yours. "Huh? Is it-?"

You whimpered as he tried to move but found he had no more space to do so. "Jesus, Clark, give me a minute."

"Sorry." He smiled from ear to ear, "I just can't believe you actually managed to take me." Clark leaned down for a series of quick kisses. "This feels really nice. Is it nice for you too?"

You bobbed your head and leaned it against his broad shoulder, pressing kisses along the muscle. Since you couldn't bit him your lipstick would be enough. "You can rock back and forth a little, I want to feel you move with me." He waited for you to start but the moment you started moving back he met your hips with his.

There was simply no part of Clark Kent that wanted to be rough with you. It went against his nature. You heard him groan next to your ear when your inner walls fluttered around him, your pussy taking him to the balls and your legs keeping him there. The vibrations seemed like they traveled through his whole body.

Moments after the same happened to you, your body pressing against his, nails raking down his back, "Clar- mmn! Don't move please." You didn't think you'd come so quickly, not with all the toys you used before but it seems neither of them had anything on Clark's real cock. Like a real hero he didn't let go, not until you stopped shaking so he could pull you into a proper, deep kiss.

Your smaller frame was completely enveloped in everything that was him, all his love and gentleness and muscly mass.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #clark kent fanfiction #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman smut #superman fanfiction #clark kent x female reader #superman x female reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics smut #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics x female reader #maws x reader #x female reader #smut

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beenbaanbuun · 2 days

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hi! i wanted to ask something about yeosang

since he's a werewolf, would he change in full moon? would he have ruts? how would the family take care of it?

now, yeosang may not transform when the full moon hits, but he certainly acts more primal. even after he’s grown used to being around the family and coddled by darling, he can’t help himself when it comes to that time of the month.

the day before, he’s always a little grumpier. seonghwa can’t ruffle his hair without yeosang snarling at him, hongjoong can’t make a snarky comment without getting a snooty remark in return, and darling can’t irritate him as much as she usually does without him pinning her to the floor like a disobedient pup. not that she particularly minds being pinned; it only adds to her fun when he’s leaning above her, anger racing through his expression as he reprimands her.

but the day of the full moon is when the three of non-werewolf residents really need to watch out. if his mood is bad leading up to it, it’s absolutely foul when it actually hits. yeosang will go back to his old biting habits, baring his teeth if anyone does anything even vaguely in his vicinity. if seonghwa accidentally steps on that creeky floorboard whilst walking to his favourite spot on the chez, yeosang will snap his jaws. if hongjoong puts a chess piece down a little too loudly, yeosang will snarl. if darling dares to touch him, we’ll, let’s be real, he won’t do much more than pin her and bare his teeth, but it’ll still be much meaner than usual. the scolding will actually feel real for once, even more so than those empty threats he chucked her way during the first few weeks he was there. safe to say even she tries to avoid him when it’s that time of the month.

as for ruts, yeosang does experience them but it’s nowhere near as painful and violent as media makes it out to be. sure, it’s unpleasant to have a permanently hard dick for a week, three times a year, but he’s not bed bound or anything. he can still get up and move around and interact with the rest of the family without jumping darling’s bones. he’s just a little more… desperate… in a way that makes him completely and utterly submissive. like sure, he wants to breed but he’ll beg for it first. and yes, he wants darling to be in his arms 24/7, but if that means he needs to act as her personal teddy bear for a week then goddammit he will. he hates his ruts for this specific reason; he can hardly pretend to be the big bad wolf when every bone in his body is telling him to do whatever it takes to have his precious pup curled up nice and safely in his arms.

and hongjoong and seonghwa let him have what he wants, if it suits them. during the day when they’re both busy, he has to be good; keep his dick in his pants and stick solely to cuddling her by the fire. of course, yeosang will obey. in the state he’s in, he’s so desperate to keep darling with him that he’ll listen to whatever it is seonghwa and hongjoong tell him.

but as soon as one or both of them are free to monitor that he doesn’t go too far, and providing darling is okay with it, yeosang has free reign. the poor thing is so desperate that he barely lasts long, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s just as much about getting his partner off as it is himself. he explained it as ‘proving himself’ when hongjoong had asked why he was so desperate to make darling cum too. the man supposes that’s as good of a reason as any…

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #opposites attract universe #yeosang x reader #matz x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader

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gyuvxx · 1 day

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A Party ꩜⋆.°⭑

Sungchan x Reader

In which YN meets a cute boy at a party…

Genres/warnings: fluff, crack, party fic, mentions of drugs and drinking, suggestive (no smut!), make out session, consent is given!! kinda open ending

The wind blew across her skin as she walked behind her friends. She listened to them talk ahead of her, excitedly chattering about something she couldn’t quite make out. Her outfit was ill fitted for the weather, more skin exposed than covered, that did nothing to keep her warm. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes, with ten more to go. If they didn’t freeze by then.

YN felt herself wobble in her heels, none of her friends ahead of her were waiting up for her. She just continued, not too bothered by silence, enjoying the peace in the atmosphere. She appreciated quiet moments, but couldn’t deny she felt a bit left out. She suddenly felt an arm sling around her shoulder, and turned to find who was next to her.

“Don’t be nervous,” She said playfully. Yunjin was dressed as a cowboy, a bandana tied around her neck, and a brown hat sat on her head. She said she was matching with the hosts of the party, two of her friends from class.

“I’m not nervous,” YN laughed, leaning into Yunjin. “I just don’t really want to go,” she confessed. YN was dressed like cupid, wearing a pair of little wings, and white boots that were too tall for her to walk in comfortably.

Yunjin smiled at the shorter girl. “If an hour passes and you still aren’t feeling it, then we’ll walk to the milkshake place,” She told her, lightly shaking her friend. “But you have to actually try to have fun, have a drink or something,”

YN nodded, but still felt reluctant. She was never the type to party, which was polar opposite to many of her friends, who spent a fair amount of their weekends at house parties thrown by other people at their school. YN didn’t blame them, she could see how they enjoyed the parties, but never really liked them herself. She didn’t like the crowds of strangers, or having to shout over everyone to talk to a friend, and she didn’t want to get drunk in a room full of strangers.

Her friends had convinced her to tag along with them, telling her it would be fun, and they would all stay together. It was halloween, she’d be so lame not to go. She agreed reluctantly, not holding much hope that she’d have a particularly good time. The group was made up of girls they’d met in class, all sweet, friendly girls, but Yunjin was the only one she was really close with.

When they got to the door and the host opened the door, YN could immediately gauge the atmosphere of the house. Loud, and crowded. Wonderful. The host, Shotaro, was in her chemistry class, and seemed to be close with Yunjin. He let them all in with a smile, and when she stepped foot into the building, the smell of weed, alcohol and body odor hit her senses immediately. As her group walked in, they all huddled for a moment, sticking together for the most part, until one by one, they began splitting off.

Yunjin kept her hand on YN’s, not wanting her to get lost in the crowd, leading them into the kitchen to get some drinks. She looked around cautiously before opening the fridge and grabbing two bottles of beer. No one was supposed to get into the fridge, but YN assumed it was okay since Yunjin was close to the host. She grinned as she handed her a bottle, and the two clinked their glasses together.

The two girls drank for a while, moving around from time to time whenever Yunjin felt like it. They laughed while trying to yell over the loud music, and the other people yelling around them, finding it amusing how the other would say ‘what?’ after every five seconds.

YN saw Yunjin look around the room, and wave to some people YN didn’t know. Yunjin turned back to her friend.

“Do you wanna come with?” she yelled, gesturing over to two boys dressed as cowboys.

“I’m okay, go talk to them!” YN yelled back.

“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked, not wanting to leave her friend.

“Yes, now go!” YN yelled with a small laugh, pushing her friend away to go talk with her other friends. Truth be told, she didn’t want Yunjin to leave, but also didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.

After a few minutes of Yunjin being gone, YN got annoyed with the atmosphere once again, moving from her spot to lean against the wall. She sipped her drink, which by that point was getting warm and sticky. She opted to people watch from her spot, waiting for Yunjin to come back.

No one approached her, which was a relief, she didn’t want to deal with drunk college students. She looked around the crowds for Yunjin, but couldn’t find her. The music seemed louder without anything to distract her, the house was hotter, and the smell stronger. It all was beginning to be too much for YN. So when Yunjin pushed her way through the crowds with a grin, YN couldn’t stop the sigh she let out.

“Have fun?” she asked, returning to yelling like before.

“Yeah!” Yunjin shouted back. “They’re in the basement right now, it’s cooler down there!” she yelled, and YN tilted her head.

“Who?” YN asked.

“My friends, duh!” Yunjin locked arms with the shorter girl. “And there’s someone I want you to meet,” she wiggled her eyebrows as she began leading her downstairs. The pair weaved through the crowds, pushing their way past people as Yunjin grinned. They walked downstairs, and YN felt a rush of cool air graze her skin.

“Is that her?” one of the cowboys asked from the couch. YN looked down at the seven pairs of eyes staring up at her, and gave a small wave.

“Yup,” Yunjin dragged her down all the way. “This is YN, everyone say hi,” the boys all greet her at the same time.

“Hi, I’m Shotaro, and I’m also the host tonight,” one of the cowboys stood up to greet her. “The other cowboy is Eunseok, we’re twinning with Yunjin. Freddy kruger is wonbin, Luigi and mario are seunghan and Sohee respectively, men in black wannabe is anton-”

“It was last minute!” the younger boy shouted in protest.

“Okay, whatever. And angel boy-” he looked around before getting cut off by a tall boy approaching with two drinks, one that was somewhat unfamiliar, and one that happened to be her favorite.

“I’m sungchan,” The tall guy said to her, a playful smile spread across his pretty face.

“Nice to meet you,” She replied with a small smile, locking eyes with him before his eyes drifted to examine her further.

Sungchan handed her the bottle of the drink she liked, and she took it without hesitation. She looked around the room, the big couch in the center with a pretty big TV in front of it, and a bar by the stairs. It was a calmer atmosphere, relaxed, just YN’s cup of tea. Shotaro told her she could sit on the couch if she wanted, so she walked over.

“Yunjin said there was someone she wanted me to meet?” YN asked as she sat down. She saw how Eunseok and Shotaro smiled teasingly and Sungchan looked behind him to see Yunjin grinning at him.

“Some friends are playing some games upstairs,” Yunjin grinned. “You can join us if you want,” she offered before walking up, Eunseok and shotaro joining her.

Seunghan and Sohee were upstairs drinking, catching up with their other friends. Anton was talking to a girl he liked upstairs, and Wonbin was playing beer pong. It was just Sungchan and YN in the basement. She didn’t realize until the awkward silence set in, and she looked up to see sungchan standing by the bar, sipping his beer.

The two of them made eye contact, as sungchan was already looking at her. She broke it after a moment, looking down at her lap. Sungchan took the opportunity to walk over, sitting down next to her, a little bit away. He turned to look at her, and she glanced up to meet his gaze. He gave her a soft smile.

“I think I’m the one Yunjin wanted you to meet,” He confessed, and YN tilted her head.

“Why do you think that?” she asked, moving to face him a little bit.

“She overheard me talking to shotaro about how I thought you were pretty,” He shrugged with a smile. “I saw you while you were upstairs, and told them about you. Yunjin went ‘oh I know her, i can go get her!’ and then she dragged you down here,”

YN smiled a little. “So that’s why she seemed so excited,”

“I guess,” sungchan agreed. “You have full right to tell me to fuck off by the way, I will not be offended,”

YN laughed, pushing her hair over her shoulder before looking at him. “I wasn’t really planning on it,” she shrugged. “I think you’re pretty cool, and for whatever it’s worth,” she paused, contemplating her words. “I think you’re cute too,”

The two looked at each other for a moment. YN felt the heat rush to her cheeks, feeling silly for just calling a guy who was two heads taller than her cute. Sungchan just smiles, relaxing into the couch a little bit, a smirk on his face.

“So… would you want to chill with me? I’m great at scaring people off,” Sungchan offered, looking over at her.

“Sure,” YN nodded. “Do you wanna go upstairs? Have some more stuff to do?”

“Sounds good to me,” He stood up, and offered His hand to her, seeming more confident than before. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, interlocking fingers as Sungchan led her upstairs.

The two of them joined their friends upstairs and teamed up for some games. Sungchan taught her how to play beer Pong, standing behind her to help her aim to sink the ball she threw. He cheered her on through the game, and drank whenever she drank. When the two of them won the game, they high fived each other, and neither of them fully realized Sungchan’s fingers intertwined with hers.

Through the next game, Sungchan’s hand rested on her waist, keeping her close when she took her third shot. YN always had one hand interlocked with his as they continued, pressing up against his side as the night continued, feeling gigglier than usual.

They played a few more games, and took a few shots too many, when YN felt that fuzzy feeling she got when she had a little too much to drink. She leaned against sungchan, talking to Yunjin as she felt the alcohol really kick in.

Sungchan stopped drinking a bit before her, only having a light buzz when he realized YN was getting a bit drunker than he was. He kept her close while they were upstairs, trying to keep her out of trouble, and to keep her from getting lost.

Sungchan had suggested they take a break from the crowd when he noticed her steps got wobbly, and started giving her water instead of more alcohol. He saw Yunjin give her a look from across the room, and he knew it was about time for them to start winding down, so neither would be too hungover.

The two of them went back to the basement, sitting on the couch while their friends relaxed around the room. YN leaned against him, as his arm draped over her, fingers rubbing gently against her dress. The two of them talked for a while, getting to know little things about each other. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, almost resting on his lap, as sungchan absentmindedly played with her hair.

“I want another drink,” YN murmured before looking up at sungchan, battering her lashes to really convey the message.

Sungchan smiled at her, and brushed the hair back from her cheek. “You’re drunk, cutie, you shouldn’t drink any more,” his finger grazed her cheek, squeezing her skin lightly.

YN jutted out her bottom lip, looking up at him through sad eyes. When she saw his smirk, and subtle head shake, she returned to leaning against his chest. “You’re no fun,”

Sungchan laughed a bit. “Sorry, baby,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her hair. He rested his arm around her again, holding her close to him as they sat together.

There was a silence between them, comfortable as He played with her hair. Sungchan noticed some of his friends had left, and now the only three left were Yunjin, Eunseok, and Shotaro. The three of them were clearly trying to observe what was going on between Sungchan and YN, and noticed Sungchan looking back at them. They made a few gestures, shotaro mouthed, ‘should we go?’ and all three filed upstairs when sungchan nodded.

It was just them in the room, and sungchan felt his heart beat against his chest. He didn't know what to do in the moment. He didn’t know what would be the next move, or what would be too far. So he decided to just try and take things slow.

“You know,” he spoke up, ears heating up at the confession. “Yunjin told me what beer you liked before you came downstairs,” YN looked up at him a bit. “She also told me you were a lightweight, so I should probably keep an eye on you,”

“I’m not a lightweight,” YN pouted.

“Sure,” Sungchan smiled, looking into her eyes. “But you’re drunk now, so i’ll take care of you,” he had a silly smirk across his lips, hand resting against her waist.

“You don’t have to take care of me, I’m just buzzed” YN muttered, looking down. “I’m a big girl,”

“I know,” he admitted, bringing his hand under her chin. “I just want to,”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, YN’s eyes were wide, getting lost in his soft gaze. It was only a moment before YN sat up a little bit and leaned forward, gently pressing her lips against his. It was a soft kiss, lasting a fleeting moment before YN pulled away, embarrassed by her sudden movement. She looked at sungchan who had a playful smile before brushing his thumb against her bottom lip as he held her chin.

YN grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes, all the embarrassment gone. Sungchan’s gaze faltered for a moment.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a hushed tone as YN leaned back on the couch, pulling him to hover over her.

YN nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling one of his hands press against her waist. His lips pressed against the skin of her cheek, breathing heavy.

“Are you sure?” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You’re drunk,”

YN just nodded again, pulling him close and kissing his lips. This time sungchan Let her have her way, still lightly buzzed by his previous drinks. He groaned lightly as he kissed her back, his forearm resting on the couch cushions while his other hand held her waist. YN had a hand in his hair, lightly brushing her nails along his skin.

They were both frenzied, lost in their own passion and lust for each other. Their kiss grew sloppy as YN began unbuttoning Sungchan’s shirt. Everything felt so fast to her, and she was unable to tell if it was because of the alcohol or sungchan, and his intoxicating cologne. Sungchan was about as lost as she was, kissing her neck, leaving light marks across her skin. The two of them were so lost, they didn’t even realize Sohee had walked downstairs.

“Oh shit!” Sohee gasped, pulling Sungchan and YN out of their dazes. He quickly covered his eyes and ran upstairs, hollering, “I saw nothing!”

Sungchan groaned a bit and YN just looked up at him. She met his eyes before she continued unbuttoning his shirt. Sungchan’s eyes widened, and he lightly grabbed one of her wrists, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” YN asked, eyes wide, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Nothing,” he said gently. “I just… don’t think we should do this right now,” He told her, pulling her up from her position to sit next to him. “You know, in the basement of a stinky house party,” He heard a soft Giggle from YN. “And you’re drunk, so let’s not do anything we could regret,”

YN reluctantly nodded, smoothing out her dress and looking down at her hands, feeling the embarrassment creep back up on her. Sungchan studied her for a moment, noticing the shift in demeanor, and how she tried to make herself smaller.

“Let me take you home,” Sungchan Offered. YN looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “I’m bored of the party, and you probably should go get some rest,”

“I didn’t drive,” She admitted.

“I did,” Sungchan reached for her hand, and took it gently.

“We both drank,” She points out.

“I’ll walk,” He told her, looking at her with a serious look. “If you don’t want me to take you home, just tell me,”

“No! It’s not that, sorry…” She sighed, pushing her hair back. “I’d really appreciate it, thank you. It just surprised me a little.”

Sungchan smiled and stood up, buttoning his shirt back up and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He offered her his hand, and pulled her up to stand next to him. The two of them walked up the stairs and through the house, said goodbye to their friends and left.

The walk To YN’s apartment was quiet, neither of them knowing what to say to break the silence between them. YN showed him the way, and sungchan walked along with her, keeping their hands interlocked despite the unspoken words between them. YN felt embarrassed for getting drunk, and being so forward with Sungchan, only to somewhat be rejected, and have him walk her home. Sungchan didn’t mind at all, enjoying the change of pace for the night. It gave him a moment to study her more, to take in her beauty.

When they got to her apartment, YN let go of sungchan’s hand, dropping it to her side, missing the warmth of his palm in hers.

“Are you okay here?” Sungchan asked, studying her expression.

“Yeah,” She said after a moment, a slight sigh in her voice. Sungchan picked up on it.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” He asked. He watched as she processed his question, debating in her mind what she should say in response. He was hoping she’d say-

“Yes, please,” She gave him a shy smile, and Sungchan wrapped his arm around her waist, nodding for her to lead the way.

In the elevator, YN leaned against Sungchan, wishing she had taken the stairs to try and squeeze in more time with the handsome stranger she met that day. The two of them didn’t speak much more, just resting their arms around each other and enjoying the peace. They reached her floor, and Walked towards her flat. When they reached the door, they each said a quiet goodbye before YN slipped inside, and closed the door.

YN regretted it instantly, wishing she would have invited him in for some food, or to just try and get more time with him. Likewise, sungchan was beating himself up mentally for not trying to make another move. They both stood on opposite sides of the door, both ready to make a move to try and get the other to stay, even if just for a moment.

When YN swung her door open, she was met with the sight of a shocked sungchan, who had his fist raised to knock on the door. “You’re-!” they both stuttered out, shocked to see the other had the same idea that they did. The shock wavered and left the two just smiling at each other, both blushing a bit.

“Do you want to-”

“Can I get your number?” Sungchan interrupted her, feeling like if he didn’t ask at that moment, he’d never be brave enough to ask again.

YN smiled and took his phone, entering her contact information, and a little heart next to it. Sungchan grinned and pocketed his phone. “I wanna take you on a real date, not just a sloppy makeout session,”

“I’d really like that,” She grinned at him, unable to hide her happiness at his proposal.

“What were you gonna ask?” Sungchan asked.

“Oh! Well, i was just gonna ask if maybe, you wanted to stay for a little bit… but i know it’s late so,” she told him shyly, not wanting to pressure him.

“Do you want me to?” He asked leaning towards her with a little smile.

YN smiled, grabbing his hand and lightly pulling him inside. “Just for one movie,”

ITS FINALLLLLYYYYYY OUT

I have a lil smth smth planned for a part 2… and 3, 4, 5 😈 so lmk if you want those or just a silly oneshot

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent

#sungchan x reader #riize sungchan #sungchan oneshot #jung sungchan #sungchan fluff #sungchan #riize oneshots #riize x reader #riize fluff #gyuvxx ᯓ★#my love {sungchan} ☆.ᐟ #⋆｡°✩riize

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abramswife · 19 hours

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HALF OF ME (ii)

SUMMARY: When Soldier Boy doesn’t return from Nicaragua, Vought creates a bullshit lie, talking him up as a hero who died in a devastating, world-saving accident. You’re handed down the mantle of leader as Payback, and spend your time trying to live up to how Ben had lead them, while also attempting to figure out what truly happened to him.

WORD COUNT: 2945

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Vought’s corrupt behaviour, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, death, gore, vomit, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sexual content, smut; descriptions of sex.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Ben didn’t come home from Nicaragua.

Blown to pieces by some Russian laser weapon (what the fuck?), the.. chunky remnants of his body were taken away in a helicopter. Presumably to be experimented on.

It made you sick. Ben might’ve been an asshole, a deep rooted cunt, but he didn’t deserve to have his corpse be defiled like that. Maybe you’d just gone soft for him, that’s all. Maybe his hushed, sweet words and gentle touches, in his last few days, had softened your heart.

But you spent nights grieving your loss, hyperventilating in your room as you felt his fingers tracing your hips again. If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could see him.

You’d never planned for Ben to die. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to do. He was supposed to be ageless; a man who didn’t die. Vought would hide him away when it became suspicious, and he’d live peacefully… as peaceful as he could get, anyway. That was what was supposed to happen.

But his guts were strewn across the base camp in Nicaragua, and you’d never see him again.

It only took Vought three months to create a bullshit cover story.

After all, they couldn’t tell America their beloved Soldier Boy was actually at the site of a cocaine smuggling operation when he was blown to bits. No, that’d taint his image that Vought had spent literal decades moulding. He needed to die a hero. A man that would live gloriously in textbooks and stories.

A nuclear reactor meltdown is what they came up with.

Fucking bullshit, really.

The man was practically immortal (which did raise the question of, how the hell did the Russians kill him in the first place?). Some radiation wasn’t going to take him out. You’d watched him take two full magazines from an assault rifle, and get back to his feet like nothing happened.

And now he was dead. You didn’t know how. You wished more than ever that he’d let you accompany Payback on this godforsaken mission. Because you were utterly clueless as to what had gone down, and no one was answering your questions, tearing up whenever you mentioned the place.

You wanted — needed — to know how this was possible.

You knew Ben, better than anyone else on the team, even Crimson, who stood up on stage, talking about how good of a man Ben was.

Ben was a good man — to those he thought deserved to see that side of him. He was reserved and harsh and rude. And, yes, he was naturally an asshole. But, there was a part of him capable of respect and kindness and love. It was just stuffed deep within.

You’d been drawing it, slowly and carefully. You’d dug your hand in and grasped onto it, worming that side of him out of his heart with every night you’d spent cuddled into his chest. And he’d been warming. His touches had been gentler, his words softer, his eyes more admiring. You’d made him that. You were the only one he’d deemed worthy of his love and trust and respect.

Crimson had never seen that side of him. She’d never even come close to opening him up, seeing who he truly was.

As she talked fake stories of their blinding romance, about how he was such an incredible boyfriend, you just rolled your eyes in the audience. The only time Ben spent with Crimson outside of the public eye was when he was balls deep inside of her. And, even then, he liked to say she was a terrible fuck.

He also liked to say you were a good fuck. It was his favourite compliment; as funny was that was. As he railed you against his mattress, his hands keeping you firmly where he wanted you, he muttered praises.

That was different to the Ben the other women got. He’d degrade them: call them every name under the sun as he practically broke their pelvises. With you, sure, he was rough, but he complimented you; whispering and grunting softly, making sure you felt pretty and loved as he violently fucked you into unconsciousness.

And he always made sure you were okay afterwards. Ben giving aftercare was not something you’d expected, but he was damn good at making you feel safe and secure. He was a man of many talents.

The country was honouring him, as you begged for any kind of rational answer from Payback, from Edgar, from Vought. You were close to falling to your knees and pleading. But they didn’t care. Too busy basking in the boost of popularity that came from Ben’s death.

So, they upped their game.

And, when Vought erected a statue of Ben outside of Vought Tower, you threw up in the bathroom. The night you were named the new leader of Payback, you threw up again.

Apparently, it’s what Ben wanted. Which was bullshit. He wanted you in his kitchen with a dinner plate (lovingly, he’d told you that night. How could something like that be a compliment? You didn’t know, but it was Ben, so you guessed it was possible). But, you couldn’t fight it. So, nearly exactly three months after the last night you saw him, you took his place.

It felt wrong, and disrespectful, and you were lost and out of place. You had no knowledge on how to lead a team of asshole supes, that didn’t respect you or really like you that much.

Ben did this so easily. He lead Payback like a natural born leader. You lead like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

But you did it anyway.

“Soldier Boy was a national icon.” You held the microphone with shaking hands, willing them to stop, staring out at the gathering of civilians. It was wrong; America was mourning a death they’d all been lied to about. You swallowed your bile and pushed on. “And I am honoured to be taking his place as the leader of our brave and dedicated superhero team, Payback. I will be leading in his image, and his honour, and I hope that my work would make him proud.”

It was all bullshit.

You hadn’t written a word of this shit.

Edgar had shoved it into your hands and pointed you onto the stage. No warning. No cooperation. No opinion. Just… here you go, now go put on a show.

But, the audience was eating it up, and Edgar and your PA were giving you a thumbs up from backstage. They liked your performance. Ben, however, would be gagging in his mouth hearing this. He’d probably mock you, and claim you’d be better off just blowing his dick. He’d be right. Every word that was coming out of your mouth was corporate propaganda.

Your hands curled tighter around the microphones, knuckles whitening. You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be home, as far away from Vought and these grieving people as fast as possible. “Soldier Boy was a respected, beloved hero, within your hearts, and Vought’s.” God, what cliche, sappy horseshit. “He was a good man, who lost his life saving millions.” You held back your scoff. “Vought will forever live in his shadow. We ask that you give us time and space to grieve our loss. Thank you.”

The audience applauded, loud and roaring, as you walked off stage.

The rage bubbling up in your chest was ready to burst, overflowing. This was all fucking sickening. No one was telling you anything. And they expected you to get on stage and do these speeches? To sit, cry and look pretty as you grieved the mighty Soldier Boy?

Fuck that. You were going to get answers.

There was some dark shit happening behind the scenes, and it had Vought’s grubby handprints all over it. The cover story. Payback’s silence. Edgar’s lack of care. None of it was adding up.

The moment the audience could no longer see it, your mouth curled to a scowl, heels clicking as you stormed up to Edgar. You were going to get answers, even if you had to physically get them. You’d find out what happened to Ben in Nicaragua, even if it cost you your head.

Stan Edgar, despite knowing he was now on the receiving end of your anger, stood tall. Cocky bastard. You could kill him with ease. But, of course, he didn’t care. There was only one person you’d ever seen Edgar cower from — Ben. To be fair with the guy, though, anyone would cower if Soldier Boy was screaming at you, inches from your face.

“What is going on?” Despite your rage, you kept your voice to a low hiss, not wanting to attract attention to your anger and frustration. “Can someone fucking explain to me, what is happening?” He began to walk away, and you followed. your words still flying out. “Why am I taking Ben’s place? How did he even die? You were in Nicaragua — what happened? Why did it take you so long to come up with that shitty reactor meltdown story?”

He turned to face you. You abruptly stopped, almost smashing into his chest with the suddenness of it, taking a stumbling step backwards. “I understand you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at his professional tone, hands linked behind his back. Typical. “But I cannot answer those questions.”

“No, I deserve to know” You demanded. It was a losing battle, and you already knew that, but it doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try your hardest. “What. Happened?”

You weren’t getting an answer from Edgar. And that became clear when he turned his back to you, engaging in a conversation with his secretary, and leaving you in the dust. Glaring at the back of his head, you muttered obscenities.

If you weren’t getting it from Edgar’s lips, you’d get it another way.

Namely, breaking into his office that evening.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Now, you weren’t a seasoned criminal, but Ben had taught you a thing or two. He was, very much, a criminal, and knew things you were never too curious to ask about. Like picking locks. Which was the most normal of his odd knowledge. (The fact that man has known the recipe to make a bomb was… terrifying.)

Picking a lock wasn’t in your expertise, but you remembered enough from what he’d shown you. Enough to kneel down in front of Edgar’s office door, and use a bobby pin to turn the lock until it clicked.

You grinned, internally thanking Ben for his… strange teaching techniques. Glancing down the hallway, both ways, you ensured it was empty; that no one was about to see you going against every rule in the book. Once it was cleared, you slipped inside the door with practiced ease, and shut the door behind you.

The sun was setting over the horizon — the golden hour hue lighting up the room enough for you to make your way over to Edgar’s shelves. You were determined to find something. Anything.

Something was going on. Something sketchier than Vought’s usual dirty work. And you were going to figure it out.

Your index finger skimmed the folders, peeking at the names. Until you found Ben’s — a cream folder with ‘SOLDIER BOY’ written across the front. Pulling it out, your eyes locked onto the bright red ‘DECEASED’ stamped under his name, your heart squeezing.

Swallowing thickly, uncertain, you flipped it open. Reasons over the contents, your eyes narrowed in concentration and then narrowed further in frustration.

It was nothing you didn’t already know. His past. The human trial experiment. Comp V. Ben had already told you all of this.

You glared at the deceased marker on the front of it, and then slid the folder back into the right spot. Alphabetical order, you noticed. You continued flicking through the files, trying to find something that could be labelled as suspicious.

Your ears perked at the sound of sudden buzzing from across the room. Like a dog to a squeaky toy, you rushed over, watching a piece of paper print out of the fax machine.

You snatched it up the moment it came out.

BCL-RED was the title word.

What the fuck was that?

You’d never heard of it before. It had to be an acronym, but your mind came up blank, as you racked it for any familiarity. Cursing internally, you scowled — damn fucking code words.

Before you could read ahead, a voice floated into the office from outside.

“Shit.” You hissed under your breath, suddenly very panicked. Returning the paper to the machine, you dashed for the door, poking your head out just enough to peek down the hall. You spotted Edgar just a ways down, facing away from you, talking to Black Noir. Quickly and silently, with expertise learnt on the field, you crept out of the office, taking off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

All the way back to your room, you muttered the words to yourself.

BCL-RED.

… BCL-RED.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

It wasn’t in any folders documents anywhere. Not even your PA knew what a BCL-RED was.

You felt like a dog chasing its tail. Going in circles, trying to find any clues as to what happened to Ben. Every day your suspicions rose. Something wasn’t right. Edgar was having hushed conversations. Payback was having meetings that excluded you.

Your trail lead you to Grace Mallory.

The young woman handed you a cup of coffee, hands scarred and calloused from her days at war. Quietly, you thanked her, sat comfortably on her sofa, cradling the coffee. “I have to respect your strength. Putting up with Soldier Boy every day.”

You cracked a smile, sipping the steaming coffee. “He was a… acquired taste.” Your laugh was breathy and quiet, thinking back to Ben and his unique personality. “What happened in Nicaragua?”

Grace sighed as she settled back. She was pretty. No doubt Ben tried to get in her pants while he was there. “It happened quickly.” Your brows furrowed, sitting forward, elbows on your knees. “We were ambushed. Your team couldn’t find their guns from their asses.”

“Sounds about right.” You murmured. “I told Ben he needed me out there. The stubborn dick wouldn’t listen. Looks like it bit him in the ass, eh?”

“Big time.” Grace agreed. “There was an explosion. It knocked me out.” You listened attentively, frequently sipping the coffee. “When I came to… your team were in ruins. Half of ‘em were dead, the other half injured.”

You chewed your lips for a few beats. “Black Noir still hasn’t recovered. Doctors said he’ll never be able to talk again.”

Solemn, she nodded. “Not surprised. His face was more hole than it was skin.” You grimaced at the imagery. “Crimson Countess told me Soldier Boy was dead. He’d been killed by some… laser, his body taken by a helicopter.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You sat back. “Huh.” You murmured. “She’s lying.” You decided. The story wasn’t right. Sure, it was feasible, under different circumstances. But, in battle? When Ben was on his A-game? No way.

Grace looked confused. After all, why would Crimson lie about something like that?

You didn’t know.

But you were going to fucking find out.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

That night, you didn’t return to your room. Instead, you slipped into Ben’s in the dead of night. It hadn’t been touched since he left for Nicaragua. Since he’d railed you against the mattress and left you bed-bound for two days.

The air was musty, with dust covering each surface. Crawling onto the bed, you tugged open the curtains, letting sunlight in for the first time in months.

Every surface was covered in dust. And there were still drugs laid about. Half snorted lines of cocaine on the coffee table. Empty pill bottles decorating the floor. An ash tray that reeked of marijuana. God, this man had been like a teenage boy.

Flicking on the light, you gathered your bravery, and spent a few hours cleaning his room up. You didn’t know why. Maybe you wanted to feel closer to him. Feel like you were doing something for him. Ben hated it when things were messy. And he loved it when you cleaned up after him. You hated feeding into that old, sexist mindset he had.

But, god, you’d do anything right now to hear him demand you fetch him a drink.

After you cleaned his room, you stripped his sheets, gagging at the old stain. Definitely your cum. And his. Gross. You stuffed it into a basket, kicking it away from you.

Okay… remember to not touch that again without gloves.

As you finished the last, final touches, a glint of metal on his bedside table caught your attention. Curious, you padded over, expecting a pistol.

Instead, you found a chain.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Delicately, you placed the necklace in the palm of your hand, brushing your thumb over the metal surface.

His WW2 dog tags.

Swallowing thickly, you blinked back your emotion. Why the fuck were even so sad? You weren’t even dating the man. Sure, you’d been his friend for years. You’d been protecting him. He’d been protecting you. You’d been his right-hand man practically.

But, still!

With a lump in your throat, you carefully placed the dog tags over your head. The dog tags were cold against your chest. You tucked them under your shirt, inhaling shakily.

With one last look around the room, you turned around and walked out, with a basket of laundry balanced on your hip.

You weren’t going to rest until you found out the truth. That was for sure.

A/N: sorry for the lack of soldier boy in this chap :( he makes his grand return next chapter !!! in all his sexist glory lmao. he’s so fun to write, tho i do feel like a horrible person writing some of the shit he says. definitely fun to explore this universe and all its fucked up possibilities. thank you guys for the support on chap one :’) <3 next chap will also be longer promise

banners in use by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

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viviennelamb · 2 days

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If you're a real artist of any kind, never read opinions from non-artists or people who haven’t taken any risks in their lives. Remember, you're not a feedback reader, you're making people like you feel less alone and perfecting your craft and process. When it comes to your art, think of this and nothing else.

The ordinary person doesn't know what devotion is like because their brains aren't even 1% functional.

They're not full nor complex people either, they're an ego programmed to please others so they can fit in. Uncreative people target anybody different from them. This is why they’re into politics and activism and can’t stand that anybody thinks differently than them. This is the Ego's nature.

I was there at some point too and it was repressive, but now I'm free. Those who aren't free judge because they're prisoners of their own minds. always remain aware of envy and the crabs in a bucket mentality. Doesn’t matter if they’re race, gender or sexuality liberationists, they are against you if you’re a real person and will hate you for being free without needing their help.

I know a lot of the people reading this are looking to break through their mental barriers and I must tell you the obvious... life is a millisecond in cosmic time and you must act quickly on the opportunities presented to you.

Nobody is rewarded for being "the most liked by egos.” When you die, you need to leave something that somebody can unearth and feel like they hit the jackpot to read, listen and look at and cherish for the rest of their lives.

There's no time for preoccupation with what zombies think. If you have time to worry, you need to add more work into your schedule (all real work is Spiritual, everybody else is just a busy body).

Successful people are too busy winning, or at least learning how to win, to judge people who are focused on their own craft. If you see somebody doing them but you’re judging instead of being inspired, you’re average and always will be until you decide to go for what you’re most scared to do.

Play your role to the fullest and you'll stop being depressed regardless of what the world shows you. When you're doing all that you can, you'll be lifted out of your depression. Most people are long-term severe melancholics because they’re not creating, but believe they're well and project that depression unto those who are sane and healthy.

Since being a depressive is normal, those who have the drive to do what they love everyday, regardless of what anybody has to say about it, are deemed unwell because it's not socially acceptable to serve your soul. Everybody wants you to be their social slave instead.

Beauty isn't balanced or normal, it's extreme and rare.

You keep daydreaming and thinking "if only I could..." you can! The second you decide to go for what you want, everything becomes available to you. You don't have to plan, just make the vow and act immediately and once you iterate and record what works and what doesn't, you're making progress.

If you want a shortcut, find a mentor. The more you stay in the freeze state nothing happens. Your conscious mind cannot comprehend "how," so forget attempting to understand or map out the trajectory of your life and just act.

Even if you're an aspiring artist, stop reading stuff you can't relate to, or negative people who judge others for stepping out of the box because that affects your mental health and therefore your art, even when it's not directed at you.

That fear they meant to direct at others doesn’t actually affect the supposed recipient, but the individual saying it as well as their peers. Now their peers are secretly scared to be open with somebody they thought they trusted.

By the way, the highest art is the Art of Self-Mastery. Once you take back full control of your mind, senses and body, you're well on the path to achieving the purpose of life. Even better if you share the process of achieving your purpose. Don't wait until everything is perfect.

Sure, people will think they know you even though you only share 0.01% of your life, but at the end of the day, you're stopping yourself from doing what you're meant to do. Any obstacles you face is a test to show yourself how much you really want something. Think of these obstacles as checkpoints.

Once you get going, you will get real life checks to show you how strong you've gotten and how much you've improved in your role/craft. Stay locked in regardless.

The vast majority are extremely mentally unwell because they don't create or share anything that brings light into other people's lives. That stagnancy, as well as their hatred of the soul is the death of the mind.

Never listen to a dabbler who only creates once a month even worse, once a year, tell you anything about your creation. Just nod and smile because you're listening to an opinionated slave.

Remember, the only thing the ordinary person produces daily is an orgasm and poop. It would take the fragile and mindless a month to write a post like this, same with the art you're driven about, but they will judge and dissect what you do when they haven't done anything, ever. They don't have the discipline to write and release something in the same day because they're too busy arguing and gossiping about what a random thinks.

Only intake art and perspectives from people who are utterly and crazily obsessed and then you'll feel like your heart is finally waking up, which is what happened to me. Only then will you reach that point of being unable to feign lukewarmness and soullessness anymore.

Once you begin to exit mediocrity, you will see people's hatred toward you (which is really toward themselves) leaking out as false concern, fighting, and creating dossiers on strangers yet this person doesn't even keep a daily journal of their own thoughts. These individuals exist for you. They're waiting for you because their life consists of talking about others, so give them something to talk about.

When an individual can't be honest and haplessly spends their life energy, they become afflicted with loneliness, anxiety, and a chaotic mind regardless of how many bodies they pile around them and how much validation they get. Most people are unskilled, emotionally, and socially retarded for this reason.

When I read stuff from those individuals in particular I'm severely underwhelmed... it's all misinformation about other people's lives and it's not even at least entertaining. I’m looking for anything real from them and there’s nothing but there’s nothing but race policing and sexual harassment.

They don't know what it's like to strive for something bigger than personal comfort and social validation. When their useless life ends, all that will be left behind of their existence is documentation of their sex-addiction, their list of diagnosed mental illnesses, ideology fights, and gossip.

Also, the people who say they wish they could meet certain artists are all lying. They would've been part of the crowd who judged them if they lived during the same time, especially the ones who pride themselves on being conformists whose best accomplishment is getting a girlfriend.

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