#♡sounds

[xochimillilili]

Kinktober day 2: Knotting

Shit I wanna fuck my knot into my pretty little puppy so badly. Need to grip their hips and bend them over, keep them pinned down with my weight as I tear their underwear off. Shove their face lower into their plushie when they start whining that it won't fit, as I start shoving my thick throbbing cock between their legs

You're okay puppy, you're alright I've got you. I'm right here, I'll hold your hand, kiss your back and rub your hips. You're my good pup, my precious love and and I'm not stopping until I've popped my knot into your warm tight little fuck hole. We're not done until you're pumped full of my pups, and you're a blissed and fucked out puppy for me, and don't worry, I'll make it fit~

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: leehan x f! reader

warnings: perv! leehan + objectification (sort of) + creampie + mention of anal

💌: um so . yeah . i have nothing to say except u can all thank my twin for this… she put the thought of perv! leehan in my empty lil head and that’s all i’ve been able to think about T_T

perv! leehan calls your cunt “her” by the way <3 before stretching you open on his cock he’ll tease you with his tip, the slit already drooling precum as he taps your clit with his length, refusing the look away.

“fuck, look at her, doll.” he sighs, “she’s so messy, bet she missed my cock, isn’t that right?”

it’s almost like he’s talking at you rather than directly to you, unable to register that you’re even beneath him. after all you’re just his pretty little fucktoy… and fucktoys don’t need to speak.

well, make a bit of noise, though. it may not seem like leehan’s paying attention to you, but his cock twitches at your moans when he’s ballsdeep in your cunt and your pathetic sobs are enough to make him cum; rope after rope of his seed spilling deep inside, clinging to your walls and painting them white.

but just filling you up isn’t enough :( he’ll clean you up afterwards, pretty fingers curling in your cunt as leehan watches your hole clench around them, leaking cum and he’s nearly salivating, unable to look away from the sight of it spilling out of you and trailing from your pussy to the puckered rim of your asshole.

hm… maybe he’ll have to fuck that hole too.

[chilumitos]

𓈒 🐩 ࣪ 𐙚 𓈒 ◌⟆

[sunrisemill]

*Intense barking noises*

[hellishgayliath]

Clem’s been busy in the pumpkin patch 🎃

[miss-conjayniality]

heeseung's dusky complexion is the sexiest, most beautiful sight i have ever laid my eyes on. fuck ANYONE who dares whitewash his sunkissed skin!!!!!!! whoever dares to commit such a heinous crime to his ethereal, exotic complexion deserves INTENSE persecution!!!!!

heeseung’s skin is mesmerizing in every way possible. he is the epitome of eye candy. he’s the living personification of honey. I wanna lick his skin because i’m SURE it tastes like honey. pretty sure the sun kissed his skin a little too hard 😮‍💨 I’m actually quite jealous of the sun because it was able to even KISS heeseung’s skin in the first place!!!!!!

could you just IMAGINE kissing heeseung’s sunkissed, naked body? and seeing him get all flustered and holding back his whines because he’s so shy by all the praise you’re giving him about his beauty!???🥺

god. the way i view unwhitewashed idols is no different from a victorian in the 1800s freaking out at the sight of a woman’s ankles or wrists….

[jaeyxns]

heeseung + flowers for @romanceuntold ₊˚❀.*:･

[anantaru]

i tHiNk i LiKe tHiS LiTtLe LiFe✨

[satirn]

these freaks make me SICK

[sunrisemill]

Genuinely wtf is the drama NOOOWW ?!?!

I swear to god every time I open tumblr there’s some new shit and I have no idea what’s going on 😭😭

Can someone fill me in please

[rosekasa]

please someone validate me and tell me im not insane. ive been getting so into writing what happens in london and getting my head into ladybug's pov that when im vibing in my day to day life i keep forgetting that i am not the one in a relationship, ladybug is

[w3bgrl]

90 degrees!

synopsis: hyunjin and jisung, with a habit of arguing, make the poor decision of starting a fight the night before evaluations. not just evaluations - but evaluations for jyp’s new trainee survival show; stray kids. this doesn’t go over well for them, but in hindsight, it was the best decision they could’ve made that day.

date: circa late 2016 to mid 2017

word count: 1.3k

featuring: kang juyeon, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

warnings: hyunsung being mean to each other

a/n: all members mentioned without shoehorning it in fuck yeah (also not sure how i’m feeling abt this -.- )

it was in the early hours of the morning when juyeon finally said “last time!”

the boys behind her sighed a mixture of relief and distain for their last run of the choreography details before evaluations. they had been polishing it up for hours now and the members honestly couldn’t see a difference in the moves anymore. yet minho, the skilled dancer who stood the closest to her in order to help with monitoring the weak spots, was the only one who actually seemed up for the last round. the rest of the boys were understandably exhausted and ready to be in their beds, but if they wanted to be the trainee group to make the show, they needed to be the best. and being the best took a lot of practice.

“minho, do you want to lead this one?”

the older boy agreed with a toothy grin and took her spot in the middle as she stepped to the side, squatting down to rest her legs while she watched. minho counted them in with the smile lingering on his lips and the second he began to dance a serious look plastered over his previously enthusiastic manner. it was like the choreography just took over - his aura totally changed.

juyeon pulled her eyes from minho’s obvious expertise with hopes that he would help lead future practices and focused for a moment on jeongin, eyeing the sequence he struggled with the most - but the jarring misstep beside him ripped her eyes away.

jisung seemed to have stepped on hyunjin’s foot during their transition and said something to him, resulting in hyunjin saying something back. juyeon huffed. hyunjin had a habit of somehow starting arguments out of nowhere, specifically with jisung. they had a hard time getting along most of the time and had a few altercations in the past, such as the time hyunjin may or may not have ‘accidentally’ spilled his drink on jisung. but because of their frequent quarrels juyeon had gotten good at putting them in their place - especially when they’re doing the last runthrough.

“excuse me.” she used a stronger voice than usual to make sure they heard her but not loud enough to disturb the members actually doing the choreography. however, the arguing pair were too caught up in their tantrum to think about the other people in the room and continued making remarks toward one another.

“i wouldn’t have to dodge you if you could do it correctly” hyunjin snapped

“boys.”

jisung’s lip pulled into a sneer, “oh, yeah, cause you’re such hot shit.”

“better than you, that’s for sure.”

“hey.” juyeon was now speaking in her chest voice, projecting enough that the other members were stealing glances while still trying to keep up with practice.

“at least i can rap! it’s a real good thing you’re pretty because if not you’d be nothing more than a backup dancer your whole career.”

jisung’s retort was finally the last straw, as now she was more angry that they were ignoring her. juyeon stood, and for the the first time ever - even for chan, the members heard her shout.

“hey!!”

the bickering boys whipped their heads in her direction, as did the ones who had been practicing diligently. all eyes were on juyeon as she walked in quick, swift strides to the door, holding it open with an unfaltering glare toward the accused.

“go.”

still steaming from the words exchanged, jisung and hyunjin slumped out the door, hands in pockets and gaze avoiding the older girl. juyeon then shut it behind them swiftly without slamming it on the hinges leaving the rest of the boys with their mouths open.

“i’ve never heard her shout before” changbin muttered

chan sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his thumbs. “me neither”

the boys fell completely silent as they listened in to hear her scolding them. but honestly, the more they tried to listen, the more they couldn’t really hear anything.

“what do you think she’s saying?” seungmin asked openly for anyone who had an answer

“probably laying down the law.” minho chuckled and took a gulp of his water “i wonder if she’ll come back without them.”

silence fell over the room again as they leaned in to listen once more. still, nothing. with a grumble from his stomach, felix pulled his attention from the door and sat on the floor next to his bag with sweat still dripping down his temples. he really never thought he’d ever see juyeon so mad - she was so well-mannered and typically pretty peaceful. all he could think is how relieved he was to not be on the receiving end of her discipline. maybe she wasn’t so scary, but having let her down would be enough in itself.

little did he know - his intuition was stronger than he thought.

juyeon stood wordlessly in front of the younger boys with her arms folded tight against her chest, eyes more annoyed than enraged. babysitting is tough enough, it’s even worse when they’re moody teenage boys.

“noona, i have to look out for him -” juyeon interrupted him.

“i don’t care. i didn’t ask.”

hyunjin’s courage fell along with his gaze and he opted to watch the laces of his shoes instead.

“listen to me.” the older girl spoke with such authority “i don’t care what happened or why it happened, and i also don’t care what your problem is with each other.” she divided her stern glare evenly between them “what i do care about is this team, and there is no room for whatever your problems are. if we make-”

juyeon completely stopped for a second before correcting herself “when we make evaluations tomorrow and go to the show, we are proving to jyp that we deserve to debut together as a team. and when we do, you two will get to be together every minute of every day for at least the next 7 years. so here are your choices: you can either apologize to each other now and resolve your issues by tomorrow, or you can let the trainers know that you will not be attending the evaluation. does that make sense?”

the boys nodded silently with their eyes down, hoping - praying that juyeon would just lighten up a bit. it was very uncommon for her to be this…unfriendly - it was very uncomfortable. she didn’t look like she had this brazenness in her, and yet the younger boys now cowered before her. still, she stood in front of them expectantly.

“well?”

jisung was the first to speak as he hadn’t been directly berated like hyunjin did. “right now? i-in front of you?”

she nodded.

jisung and hyunjin looked at each other with an emotion that couldn’t be described in one word; a mixture of annoyance, cowardice, shame, and regret. in unison they began to say sorry, tipping their heads toward each other in a weak excuse for a bow - at least in juyeon’s book.

“90 degrees”

the boys heeded her word and quickly bent at the waist, the crowns of their heads nearly knocking each other as they bowed.

“thank you.” she let out a breath, the stern look on her face ceasing just a hint. she then nodded toward the practice room “now for them, too.”

the crack of the practice door being opened stopped all the boys in their tracks, halting conversations between the members as they all waited for the culprits to emerge.

jisung entered in front of hyunjin while juyeon stepped off to the side. the humbled boys walked toward the center of the practice room with pink cheeks from embarrassment. they looked akin to puppies with their tails tucked between their legs. together, they bowed - 90 degrees - to the members.

“sorry for how we acted. it won’t happen again.”

the rest of the boys were stagnant until the pair stood back up and all eyes shifted to juyeon who had waited quietly with her hands clasped in front of her. once she noticed everyone looking at her, she bowed as well.

“i’m sorry for yelling. i shouldn’t do that.”

jisung and hyunjin took note of her 90 degree bow.

[minzart]

Love Alfred with a cross bow... BUT COME ON THE JOKE WAS RIGHT THERE, THE PARALLELS, "the son of dracula" vs "the son of hellsing", also let one iteration of Hellsing be a gremilin, a swer rat, the manifestation of obsession turned insanity

[thebrainrotsreal]

Saw the s2 trailer for Invincible. Lost my mind. As one does.

[xochimillilili]

Wish I could go out on a silly little date with my cute boy, both of us getting dressed up all nice, fawning over him and how gorgeously pretty he looks, making sure to dress up as nicely as he does

Breaking in my new belt and giving him a cute accesory for our date as well, even if it's only us that can see it, by getting him to present like a good pet all pretty for me~ Seeing his pretty holes and cute little clit throb, as I spank them red and aching, leaving him dripping and itching for more as I kiss him better and tend to him, giving him a little collar of hickeys along his neck, knowing he'll be red and sore with the mark of my belt on his ass and my kisses all throughout our date