#- just makes me laugh every time. like it's not even a BAD vibe as it is a completely discordant one. paints such a funny picture

[batsplat]

controversial opinion but I don’t think that in terms of rivalries and feuds marc is that interesting. like if you exclude valentino you’re left with who? dovi? they did have exciting on track battles for sure but let’s face it dovi was never really a huge title threat. and their off track relationship as a result had no tension. but who else?

qualified agreement in that, yes, I also don't think marc's slate of rivalries/feuds is all that satisfying... I just don't feel like this is entirely marc's *fault*. I mean, first off, valentino is definitely a positive outlier in this regard in that he was just working overtime in terms of coming up with compelling feuds. he's not quite the spiders georg of fantastic feuds, but he's not far off either. secondly, when compared to the other aliens + dovi... marc is at a very obvious disadvantage in that those guys were all direct peers who already had a lot of history with each other. dovi made fourteen year old jorge cry, twenty year old casey threw a temper tantrum when dani beat him, teenage jorge was judgemental of casey's fan engagement skills, and obviously there's the jorge/dani of it all. even the bits of that diagram that never had any major beef will have at least had a little bit of sizzling tension, like dovi's wariness of dani as a teammate. marc was always going to be on the back foot here - he really could have done with a pol esparagaro-type figure to crack on and become a big deal in the premier class. you need interpersonal history for a strong rivalry, and marc was always working at a deficit by having to start from scratch

this is the thing, right: imagine a world in which marc is born a few years earlier. in your hearts, do you seriously believe he would not have had a major sustained feud with at least one of jorge, dani, casey or dovi? I'm thinking he gets at least 2-3 in all honesty. casey if they ever ended up teammates is practically a given - and even without that you'd have to say it's a near certainty that it would've gone very badly. I mean good lord, casey vs the marc marquez towing addiction feels like it inevitably ends in casey physically assaulting marc on-track at least once. jorge had feuds with literally everyone, so that one also feels guaranteed. dani was a way less prickly character by the time marc got to the premier class but used to be a notoriously difficult teammate - so those two at honda and, again, odds are pretty good you get something going. dovi's a bit more marginal in that it kinda depends on what their respective competitive situations look like - plus dovi was generally more of a single issue jorge lorenzo hater - but you'd still expect it to be at least a little bit snarkier. so yeah, just a straightforward counterfactual - but it should still demonstrate that the picture is more complicated than 'marc marquez sucks at feuds'. there's clearly more going on here

so I kinda feel like there's two interrelated questions here, right. let's break it down:

how high quality are marc's rivalries/feuds?

to what extent can the quality or lack thereof of marc's rivalries/feuds be attributed to him, versus circumstantial factors that were outside of his control?

now with the first question, again, I do agree that right now in his career... marc could be doing better. he's got one major feud - and admittedly it's a doozy, but it's against a guy who has five major feuds to his name. if you look at that without context then it's quite easy to conclude valentino is putting in all the hard work, with little to no contribution from marc needed. apart from that... well, his other big rivalry on paper is with dovi - which, yeah, that one is lacking in narrative tension. the main issue with that rivalry isn't actually the lack of drama per se, it's that it just doesn't go anywhere. it's a bunch of strong on-track battles with no real arc to connect them, just ends up being completely static past the conclusion of 2017. I never got the sense that the two of them felt massively differently towards each other after 2019 than they had a couple years earlier... that's what kills it imo, like you need something to be happening in a rivalry. you need the two parties to have a substantial impact on each other! you can vaguely make that case for 2017 if you really want to push it - but it's just not enough, it only lasts for a few months, and it's lacking in the build-up and pay-off department. there's no real shift in their dynamic, not in terms of their relationship or their title fights or even their on-track battles... their first big battle is dovi beating marc in austria and their last big battle is dovi beating marc in austria, so you can't even say marc's learned how to deal with the red bull ring's final corner better. the only thing that's substantially changed is that marc knows he'll win the title anyway. look how far we've come

then there's marc's rivalry with dani, interesting on paper and they did have a reasonable amount of tension, but obviously you'd be hard-pressed to mention it in the same sentence as any of the real top tier rivalries. it's just over too soon, marc wins it too conclusively, and they don't have a single memorable on-track battle to their name beyond 'that time marc cut dani's sensor cable'. the jorge rivalry isn't terrible - you've got a few strong-to-iconic on-track battles like jerez + silverstone 2013, mugello + silverstone 2014, mugello 2016, austria 2018... but yeah, the tone is really quite muted and reserved by jorge's standards. there's not a massive amount of development in that relationship post-2013, and it just sort of fizzles out over the years. again, really becomes more of a collection of moments than an actual cohesive narrative arc - like something like austria 2018 is a fun throwback, you've got jorge being mad at marc over the aragon 2018 crash that essentially ended his season, but it also doesn't really lead to anything bigger. maybe there was a teensy bit of hope the honda teammate situation would reawaken that rivalry (me and casey both grabbing the popcorn, mind), but jorge just wasn't competitive enough for that to go anywhere

so, who's fault is this? is marc just mid at starting feuds? why hasn't he started more feuds with a bunch of people who showed they were perfectly capable of starting feuds with each other? why hasn't he given the people more to work with? who can we blame for this sorry state of affairs?

now, honestly, I reckon most of the issues with marc's track record can be put down to circumstance and poor timing. I already said that you'd expect marc to be doing way better if he'd been born early enough to run into the aliens in their primes. this is for several reasons. the first reason is that he managed to miss casey entirely - who on paper has to be the alien you'd expect marc to get on the worst. casey has the most rigid belief structure surrounding riding standards and acceptable levels of aggression, he's the least likely to be okay with marc's 'vicious on-track smiling off it' schtick, he had a multi-year vendetta against the exact sort of behaviour in practise and qualifying marc has made a habit of throughout his career, he is a strong believer in the kind of teammate cooperation in development marc memorably eschewed at honda, he would have also found marc's flavour of media games distasteful at best, he's highly sensitive to anything that could be construed as an attack on him... and marc in turn would have been aware of all this and actively enjoyed pissing casey off. in some respects they feel like an even worse match than valentino and casey. marc and casey on the 'alien compatible personalities quiz' score negative points. so that's just poor timing - marc barely missed out on him! you've removed the most irascible alien from the picture, the guy who had the highest quantity of low level beef with the entire paddock... it's already taken away such a major obvious feud opportunity from marc that you have to be a bit more lenient when judging his record

beyond that, let's turn to two interrelated reasons for why marc didn't get more narrative juice out of his other rivalries with that generation: a) the competitive landscape, and b) how the aliens themselves changed over time. the biggest and most important factor is (a). my general stance with feuds is that it's really really hard to start a feud in year one of a rivalry - you simply need more build-up than that. this is incidentally also 100% true of valentino's feuds. biaggi and valentino already despised each other going into 2001 (incidentally the lack of a narrative arc is why that one's also not a top tier rivalry for me), sete and valentino needed 2003 to set up 2004, valentino and casey were more or less fine in 2007 and ditto with jorge and valentino in 2008 and even mostly 2009. you can likewise point to valentino and marc already having enough significant interactions in 2013-14 to set up the volatility of their on-track encounters in the first half of 2015. for a counterexample, check out valentino and nicky hayden - who were title rivals in 2006 and 2006 alone, and managed to get through that entire year with minimal drama and their relationship emerging entirely unscathed. if hayden had still been more competitive after that year, maybe something would have changed... but as it stands, you do need time to build up the kind of interpersonal history for things to get nasty in a meaningful way. see also btw how dani and valentino's rivalry never got properly nasty, despite some build up in 2006

compare and contrast with marc's situation. 2013 is actually perfectly good set up... except then it's immediately followed by a dud of a season, where marc is dominant enough in the first half to make the title fight essentially a non-starter. after 2013, dani really isn't a competitive threat to marc anymore outside of isolated patches, and marc so effectively wrests control away from that team that he doesn't really need to do anything more dramatic. (also a question of the personalities involved - if you paired up jorge with marc as teammates in 2014, that situation immediately looks a lot more volatile.) now, okay, you might query the lack of tension between marc and jorge in 2015... but marc was just too focused on valentino that year, not least because that's the guy he was actually fighting on-track. and he nukes himself out of that title fight fairly early on, so the interpersonal valentino stuff kinda becomes the main source of competitive stakes for him at certain times in that season. 2016 the title fight fizzles out around assen, and then jorge's off into the competitive wilderness himself at first ducati then honda. and with dovi, you've got the obvious problem is that the seasons are in the wrong order. dovi was a serious title threat... but only in the first year of that rivalry, aka 2017. and only for part of that season! at the start of the year, it was really vinales marc was focused on - hence badgering him in pre-season testing - and it really took quite a while for marc and dovi to establish themselves as the two title contenders. as a season, it most closely resembles the chaos of 2006 - which, again, didn't lead to any drama between valentino and hayden in part because it just wasn't as focused on two protagonists. after that, dovi has a poor start to 2018, and by 2019 marc's just flattening everyone. it's basically like if you switched 2003 and 2004 for sete/valentino (though obviously sete's 2003 is a fair bit more competitive than dovi's 2018)... you needed the proper title fight when they were already established rivals. real take - valentino in marc's situation most likely doesn't start a feud with dovi in 2017-19 for the simple reason that he just does not need to. valentino's feuds typically come from some sense of competitive necessity, or at the very least convenience... casey is the strongest example here, where valentino behaves as closely as he ever has to a rational actor and only really escalates that feud when it makes perfect sense to do so. with dovi, given how little threat he posed in 2018-19 and especially presuming there's not a preexisting interpersonal relationship that can be twisted by the injection of competitive stakes (as there was with sete)... why bother?

this, to me, is really the main explanation for prime!marc's feud record. he runs into versions of the aliens that all eventually drop off competitively, and doesn't have to face the same level from them as a collective as he would have in say 2008-09. he doesn't have to face casey. and his sete equivalent is just not as much of a competitive threat as sete was beyond the first year of that rivalry. feuds do need something to get them going - and generally, competing against the same guy across multiple seasons, feeling genuinely threatened by them, is one of the most common and important preconditions. the second alien-related factor is how the aliens themselves had changed. again, we're missing casey... and then with jorge and dani, well, they'd definitely mellowed from where they were at c. 2006-08. there's a few reasons for this. firstly, they grew up. just a little. it's been known to happen. secondly, you do have to mention the sic factor... discussed a bit here and I don't really want to go into too much depth about it, but obviously it does make a difference that jorge and especially dani had gone through this experience where they'd essentially been feuding with another rider who then died. inevitably, that will have played into how they reacted to marc. thirdly, this is a topic for another post but... jorge and dani (and casey) had become pretty determined in 2011-12 not to give the media and fans what they were so desperately yearning for (drama) - in an act of generational solidarity against the concept of beef. it was a bit of a reaction against how they felt constantly misinterpreted by fans and media, as well as essentially being quite contrarian about being incessantly called 'boring' all the time... and a fuck you to valentino and his supporters in the fanbase + media specifically by having things be more civil between the three of them than they had been in times past (plus how they rejected any sort of hard riding). all this means marc has the misfortune to run into versions of the aliens who are actually very much trying not to start feuds. I mean, even valentino wasn't really out to start feuds, it just sort of ended up happening... it's way harder to start a feud with 2013!jorge than it is with 2008!jorge - and the two major jorge feuds that still flare up past 2013 are one where there's already significant history (like, say, jorge thinking dovi was already attempting to 'undermine his morale' when they were both teenagers)

the other situational factor is the time marc has spent in the competitive wilderness. marc was 27 when his arm injury happened. as a point of comparison, that's the age valentino was in 2006 - by which point he has had two major feuds plus a couple more minor ones. in a way, right, you can say marc wasn't doing that badly at that stage... marc is now 31, aka valentino's age in 2010. by then, valentino had added two more major feuds to his collection; he's quite productive in his late twenties you have to say. but marc obviously hasn't been in a situation where he's going to be getting embroiled in great rivalries... the only title he'd been fighting for before this year was champion of crashes. you're less likely to start feuds when you're in the competitive wilderness - there's just not any point and marc quite frankly had better things to worry about. the thing about 2019 is that at the time, people did feel like marc might have been setting up some juicy rivalries... the most common names talked about back then were rinsy and especially fabio. now, as it turned out, rinsy was outshone by his teammate in the one year suzuki was in the title fight, so that probably wouldn't have become a big thing regardless of marc's situation - but fabio... well, I don't know if I think marc would've started feuding with him necessarily, but you'd at least hope for some flavour of interesting rivalry. admittedly, you were giving marc a bit of an unfairly difficult task here, given the age gap equivalent rival for valentino is casey. again, look me in the eyes and tell me you think fabio quartararo isn't harder to start a feud with than casey stoner. starting a feud with casey is easy mode. give me fifteen minutes trapped with him in a conveniently broken lift and I bet you I could make him my lifelong enemy

still, crucially we never got to see that play out. and without the injury, marc would've already had several years to fight pecco and even jorge martin on equal-ish terms, which again just isn't an opportunity he's had until this year. those were some of his prime feud-starting years stolen from him... though also, speaking of casey vs fabio - I mean, that's the other thing, isn't it. whether you want to blame it on this generation of rider personalities or overly professionalised upbringing or the social media climate or whatever, the general willingness to feud with other riders has massively declined in the paddock. even insulting your fellow riders is pretty rare. casey thought the media and fans were too harsh to him back in the day, to put it mildly, but in a lot of ways it'd be far worse for him now. (incidentally, y'know the whole mir apologising to marc thing - can you imagine casey doing that? the correct answer is no, obviously not, how is that even a question, are you insane.) and even that generation was seen as a milder assortment of characters than valentino's lot, who in turn were at times considered oddly friendly by the guys who came before them. there are no max biaggi's in today's motogp. sete failing to threaten to punch valentino after jerez 2005 was considered disappointingly polite by a lot of the media. It Was A Different Time. it's not just that marc's feud rate is flagging - it's the case for everyone, which is how you get acosta offering to try and spice things up between the current title contenders. marc does need someone to feud with, and it doesn't help if they're all being so awfully conflict-averse

so, that's the marc defence case. marc just hasn't had enough plausible opportunities to start proper feuds, and you can't really judge him by how situational factors keep conspiring against him on that front. now, I think that is probably the main reason why it's been quite so dire for him... but still, it's also not quite satisfying to pretend like marc and valentino are quite literally identical in that regard, that they would have ended up with exactly the same profile of feuds in each other's positions. admittedly I don't really believe valentino would have had a radically different number of feuds in marc's career timeline... jorge is if anything the most proactive of the lot, often not even really needing much competitive justification to escalate a feud. still, you do suspect that there are differences in marc's approach that would always make him a little less likely to come up with these high quality feuds. one factor is motivation - valentino generally needs to get more creative in order to motivate himself to win than marc does, cf how much more flighty he gets when things are going well for him. valentino has long had a reputation for using his rivals to motivate himself, building them up as enemies and so on. there's rivals for which this is more the case than others, and it's a bit more complicated than that... but in general, valentino really benefits from these feuds, and is more reliant on them than marc is. marc can also use his rivals to motivate himself, cf 'his record at misano'. the most egregious example is 2019, where he comes in off the back of two back-to-back last lap defeats, hops onto the rear tyres of the yamaha's for much of that weekend until eventually he has that spat with valentino in qualifying that conveniently gives him the fire to reverse the recent trend and snatch victory away from poor fabio on the last lap. that's probably the most proactive he's been about it, and it's the kind of enterprising spirit I'm always happy to see in my riders. but in general... he does also just seem pretty content to reel off victories without any added source of motivation. valentino needs to jump through a few more hoops to get himself going, which happen to be very feud-inducing hoops. marc is far more capable of showing up and just doing the business

there's a related factor here that's a bit more nebulous and it's just... how they go about winning, both races and titles. now, okay, obviously they're both aggressive riders - marc notably so for the entirety of his career, while valentino got more aggressive after leaving honda and having to compensate for a bike disadvantage (having already been a menace in the lower classes). generally marc is the more aggressive rider, with valentino a little happier to pick and choose his moments and only escalating when he really feels he has to. similar peaks, lower baseline of aggression. that being said, valentino relied on one-on-one duels a lot more in winning his titles than marc did. marc's biggest strengths in winning his titles was a consistent and relentless pace advantage over the opposition, where he was able to score higher on his bad days than they were on theirs. his wins were generally more likely to be dominant than valentino's were (though it is admittedly quite hard to tell at times whether valentino was really riding anywhere close to 100% in his honda days) - and the momentum swings in his title fights tend to be because his opponents had made errors. valentino kinda needed the 1 vs 1 thing to be clicking for him to win his titles, because that's what his whole game is built on. 2004 plays out completely differently if valentino doesn't win any number of close duels - obviously welkom, but perhaps even more importantly the mugello/catalunya/assen stretch of the season he entered with a points deficit and left the new championship leader (with his relationship with sete rather worse for wear to boot). 2008 is obviously the poster child for this, as to a slighter lesser extent is 2009, which has been covered elsewhere on this blog and will be again in the near future... marc, by contrast, kinda thrives on losing close duels against his title rivals that are worrying to them because he was so close to victory at his weaker tracks. you can cite various mugello and austria and qatar races here... again, has been discussed elsewhere, but the point is that it's just a bigger part of valentino's game than it is for marc. and if so much in terms of stakes and championship momentum is attached to these single races... well, that's actually pretty much the perfect trigger point for starting feuds. by the latter half of his prime, marc kinda knew he could get away with losing some of these fights, especially against dovi (vs how he allegedly was 'angry' after the rins defeat and really relished the triumphalism of beating poor sweet fabio). valentino could extremely not afford to lose some of these duels if he wanted to win the title, and often ended up souring his relationships with his competitors in the process of winning. again, laguna 2008 is the poster child here - valentino's behaviour in this race is far more significant in determining that relationship's trajectory than him being 'mildly chilly' towards casey for the preceding one and a half years

the last factor kinda feels like the most obvious one: valentino often was just more proactive in his shit stirring, especially off-track. marc tends to do a lot of his psychological warfare on the track, which is discussed in more detail in the mind games post but is obviously reflected in stuff like stalking specific riders endlessly in practise and qualifying. valentino does plenty of on-track psychological warfare and he certainly wasn't averse to the odd towing shenanigans (just ask casey), but he was also more prepared to just fire a few shots in the media. he's capable of more subtlety than he's sometimes given credit for, had a pretty good feel for escalation... which can actually be quite frustrating, because at times you have to take his rivals at their word when they say he was being mean about them in the media - not always easy to find actual examples of that! he'd also get creative about how to exert pressure on his rivals - for which one of the more obvious examples would be getting proxies like his crew chief jb to do the mudslinging on his behalf. still, it shouldn't be too controversial to say he's more likely to attack his rivals directly in the media than marc is - who ramps up the subtlety all the way and usually just gestures vaguely in the direction of saying something that could be a snide remark... but isn't really direct enough to actually be a clear attack. now, if you set baby casey or baby jorge on the case, notoriously sensitive characters that they were, there'd still be a decent chance they take offence at the sort of thing marc says about his rivals... but as it stands, marc clearly prefers this less obvious approach, and this current lot isn't going to call him out on it. and yes, obviously sepang 2015 and the repercussions thereof will have strengthened marc's conservatism in this regard, a wish to avoid any further drama paired with a desire to show that valentino was the problem in that particular rivalry by avoiding any further feuds. and if marc's less likely to be proactive in media mudslinging and is also less likely to find himself in the sort of race that burns interpersonal relationships... well, it's not surprising he'd be less predisposed to feuds, is it

there's some other stuff we could bring in here, like valentino's tendency to play an active role in narrativising his career that fortunately just happens to also makes feuds more likely (topic for another post currently in the drafts). you could talk about how marc is less sensitive than jorge or especially casey, how he's more likely to brush off criticisms and then commit himself to on-track revenge. how he has a lot of low level beef with other riders that has just never quite been given the space or opportunity to grow into a proper feud. how jorge is more impulsive and is likelier to start fights immediately in response to a perceived slight, versus marc who is far likelier to bottle things up. in general, though, I still put most of the blame on circumstance. while valentino is definitely the frontrunner in the feuding department, there's no single correct way to go about starting your feuds - and jorge, for instance, has really showcased an alternative approach that can also yield some very positive results. marc should have been given more opportunities to figure out his own way to start up multiple narratively complex rivalries/feuds. he has some traits that are well-suited to a strong profile of rivalries and feuds, from his on-track aggression to his tendency to play games in the media to his ruthlessness to his ability to take defeats personally and feel threatened by rivals. the towing thing. his behaviour as a teammate. how uncompromising his approach towards riding is. there's a lot of strong stuff there, it just hasn't been given the chance to shine as much as you'd like

all that being said... he still has time! there's no reason to believe next year won't give us what we hope for in that regard, as long as that's a reasonably competitive title fight. and I don't think it'd be fair to pecco and marc to attribute any heated rivalry between them completely or even mostly on valentino - they have enough reasons unrelated to him to desperately want to beat each other. if anything, the valentino factor is unfortunately more likely to make them both a bit more restrained in that regard, wary of the drama of it all... but here's hoping! and they've already built up a bit of history now, some significant on-track encounters - I'd say that in an ideal world they've done more than enough prep work for them to get to feud territory next year. the other obvious name is pedro, a charmingly genre aware child with what a rather pronounced scepticism towards marc specifically, who feels like he would not only be up for a feud with marc but has quite possibly already game-planned what that feud would look like. hey, you never know, maybe I will successfully barter away my soul to finally make yamaha competitive again... let's see if we can try to get that depressed frenchie interested in some proper rivalries once he's back in the game. hopefully, marc still has a few competitive years ahead of him - and hopefully, he'll also get some help from the other side to get something narratively compelling going. I believe in him! remember, valentino pissed away two entire years in his early thirties but still managed to start his most long-lasting and emotionally devastating feud at the age of 36. isn't that inspiring? it's never too late to burn bridges. I for one hope marc still has something rancid in store for us

[tommygettingwrittenoff]

i need eddie to get another guy friend in season 8, and buck loses his shit about it (again), so he breaks up with t because he's convinced that the weird feeling he gets when he sees them together is because he is Really attracted to the new guy.

[vulpinesaint]

absolutely unreasonable over this coworker that i rlly like rn. thank god i don't like men or i would have fucking Lost it by now! as it is i don't even know what has me so dkfjghsdf about him i'm just sitting there with my head in my hands going "he's so normal about trans people..."

[sparingiscaring]

Girl (Gender Neutral) Help I gave my throwaway Seeker OC a Tragic Backstory and now I'm attached

[alexanderwales]

"I don't think I could have the relationship with you that you have with me," she said. She was very casual about it, and I was immediately on the defensive.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

She put the book she'd been reading down. "It's just, the way you've described it, and the vibe that I get, I don't think I could do it how you do it."

"I still don't know what that means," I said.

"You're always doing this like ... micro calculation thing," she said. "You weigh your words. You try to time things. You have never once called me up while I was at work, or asked me for something when it was inconvenient for me, and you check and double check that you're not being a nuisance."

"And ... that's bad?" I asked.

"No, I love that about you," she said. "It's very kind and considerate. I know that if I tell you I'm not in the mood to hang out, you'll apologize and not push it. If you suggest that we get pizza and I say I'd rather have Korean BBQ, you fold instantly and we get Korean BBQ. I like that. I get the things I want. But it seems like an exhausting way to deal with people."

"I want you to be happy," I said with a small voice.

"I am happy," she replied. "You're great. You remember when we first got together I was like 'hey, look, if you want pizza, we can get pizza, it's just not what I'm in the mood for', and you kept insisting that you didn't care, that you would rather have me follow my needs? And I just thought, 'you know, maybe I should just trust that's what they actually feel'. And it is, as far as I can tell. There's not some secret part of you that wants me to break your way."

"You think I'm ... a simpering coward?" I asked. Even as I said it, it felt too accusatory, the wrong thing to say in the situation.

"Whoa, no, not at all," she laughed. "I think you do all that stuff because ... I don't know, you want to? Because otherwise why would you do it? It's how you are with every aspect of your life, you're a tryhard. I mean you said to me that you wanted to reclaim the term. Your relationship with me is that you're a tryhard (affectionate)."

"And you're ... not?" I asked.

"I'm not that way with anyone," she replied. "You know why I hang out with you so much? It's 'cause I like you. Most days, I am very much in the mood for you, and if you ask for a meetup, I'll say yes, and if you don't ask for one, then I'll ask you first. And for you ..."

"What?" I asked.

"It's like ... you're keeping track," she said. "You want to make sure that you're not sending me more messages than I'm sending you. You're balancing social micro stuff that I don't pay attention to. You're consciously monitoring how much each of us has said and making sure it's the right number of words or whatever."

"It's really not about the number of words," I replied. "It's more ... making sure that social and emotional labor is equitable, that there's a good rhythm to the conversation. I don't think you'd get good results by tracking word count."

"But see, I don't do any of that," she said. "I talk because I feel like talking. I listen when you need to vent because I like you and it feels good to give you an outlet. I mean you are undoubtedly putting in a bunch of work, and for me, there's no work. That's all I meant, really."

"You've thought about it," I said.

"Oh, I'm just reading this book, and there are two characters like us in it, and I was like 'yes, exactly', and then 'that would not work for me'." She shrugged.

"And if I stopped 'putting in the work'?" I asked. "Would we still be ... friends?"

"See, I don't know," she said. "Because that's never who you've been. You're asking me if I would still be friends with you if you changed your personality and how we interact with each other. Maybe? Probably? Who knows? Maybe we'd be better friends somehow. Maybe we're just two basically compatible people, and every time you've ever worried about anything it would actually have been completely fine."

"Or maybe it's load-bearing," I said.

"Maybe!" she replied with a smile that slowly faded. "You okay?"

"I'm thinking," I said. I didn't know if I could verbalize what I was thinking in a way that would be palatable.

"Do you not like being this way with me?" she asked. "Because I have never asked you to. I've made my preferences known, but if you've been bending yourself into knots and feeling a burden, then ..."

"No," I said, because I knew it was what she wanted to hear. "No, I like the way things are between us."

"Good," she smiled. "I do too."

[lisired]

DREAM BOYS: slut me out

pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)

summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

If I was a bad bitch,

I’d wanna fuck me too

There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 

For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 

The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 

Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 

Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 

But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 

There was no way in hell he was a whore. 

The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”

Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”

You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”

“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.

You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 

Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”

“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”

Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”

You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”

“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”

Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”

Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”

You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”

Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 

Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.

He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 

When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 

Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”

Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”

“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”

God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 

“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.

You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That’s it.”

While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.

“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 

Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”

“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”

“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”

You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”

Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”

You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”

Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”

You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 

There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”

You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 

Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 

You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 

But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”

Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”

You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 

With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”

You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 

“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”

That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”

Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 

When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”

Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”

Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”

Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 

“Why?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”

“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”

Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”

“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 

You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”

Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”

And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 

Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 

When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 

“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 

You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 

Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 

His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 

You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 

Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”

He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 

You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 

It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 

As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 

His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 

It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 

“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.

You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”

Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”

You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 

You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”

The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 

Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 

With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 

It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 

“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 

Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 

He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 

You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 

You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 

Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 

You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 

Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 

You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.

Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 

With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 

And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 

Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 

You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 

Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”

Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”

“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 

When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.

The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 

“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 

You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 

He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 

“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 

It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”

Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 

You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 

“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 

Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 

He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”

You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 

Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 

You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 

That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 

Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 

When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 

He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 

Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 

You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 

“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 

Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 

In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.

Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 

When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”

“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 

Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 

When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 

jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting

mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 

jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin

jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 

haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you

Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 

And he wasn’t losing.

[hoshifighting]

okay hear me out…..pick me seventeen like completely pathetic and yearning seventeen who act like picks me for their s/o attention

pick-me!seventeen, attention-seeker!seventeen pathetic!seventeen, yearning!seventeen

seungcheol is the ultimate pick-me. it’s like he’s got a radar for your needs and wants. you forget your hairbrush? no problem, he’s got a new one waiting on your desk. craving ramen? a steaming bowl appears out of nowhere. it’s a bit overwhelming, honestly, especially when the gifts keep getting more extravagant. you were about to stop him when you saw an yves saint laurent bag on your desk. you tried to explain it wasn't necessary, but he just grinned like he won the lottery. “i just want to make sure you have everything you need,” he says, looking way toopleased with himself as you see yet another luxury item appear.

jeonghan tries to play it cool, like he’s not affected by your presence at all, pretending he doesn’t care while he’s actually dying for your attention. he’s got this casual air about him, but you can tell he’s obsessed. the way he casually tosses a snack in your direction, or how he pretends to be deep in conversation with friends, but keeps glancing at you. when you finally acknowledge him, he’s way too nonchalant about it. “oh, hey,” he says, as if he wasn’t just counting down the seconds until you noticed him. “didn’t see you there.” his tone way too casual for someone who’s clearly been waiting for you.

joshua takes a more direct approach, pulling out his guitar or starting to sing whenever you're nearby. it’s like he’s trying to lure you in with his talent. sometimes, it’s a bit awkward, especially when he messes up a chord or stumbles over lyrics. but he keeps going, hoping you'll compliment him. “how’s that for a song?” he asks, trying to sound casual but clearly hoping you’ll swoon over his performance. it’s awkwardly charming, and you can’t help but smile. “not bad, right?”

junhui is always trying to be the cool guy, but he’s clearly not very good at it. he’s playing basketball outside, and every time you walk by, he tries to show off with some flashy moves. he dribbles a little harder, jumps a little higher, and always makes sure to throw you a grin that’s way too hopeful. “yo, you see that shot?” he calls out, clearly trying to impress you. “thought you might want to see my skills up close.”

soonyoung can’t help but embarrass himself trying to get your attention. he’ll leave a banana milk on your desk with a sheepish grin, saying, “for you, shawty.” he says trying to sound cool but clearly embarrassed by the gesture. his cheeks are a little red as he avoids eye contact, clearly hoping you’ll appreciate the small, quirky gift. you can’t help but laugh at his antics, and he looks so pleased when you accept the drink.

wonwoo is all about paying attention. he overhears your conversations about books or skincare and then subtly drops references to them in his own conversations. you catch him reading a book on dermatology right after you talked about skincare. “i heard you’re into this stuff,” he says, trying to sound casual. “thought i’d give it a read too.” he mumbles, clearly hoping to impress you with his attentiveness. it’s sweet how he goes out of his way to connect with you.

woozi is subtle with his attempts. he’ll spin a pen or crack his fingers, trying to look cool and nonchalant. when you ask him to teach you how to spin a pen, he’s caught off guard and turns beet red, clearly flustered by the close contact. “uh, sure, I can show you,” he stammers, trying to hide his embarrassment. it’s adorable how he struggles to maintain his cool.

minghao is protective in a subtle way. if he overhears the boys talking shit or swearing next to you—you know, boys. he’ll step in, saying, “hey, we’ve got a girl here, watch your language.” he’s got this protective vibe, and you can’t help but appreciate how he stands up for you, even in small ways. it’s clear he values you and wants to make sure you’re treated well.

mingyu like flaunting his strength and height. if you’re struggling with something, like lifting a chair, he’ll swoop in to help, lifting it effortlessly. when he’s next to you, he’ll flex his muscles or show off his veins, trying to get you to notice. “need a hand?” he asks, lifting your pile of books effortlessly for you. “just thought you might need some help with this.”

seokmin is the ultimate “pick me” guy when it comes to social media. he’ll post things related to your interests, like a song from the artist you mentioned or a dish you posted about. when you like or comment on his posts, he’s over the moon, celebrating like he’s just won the lottery. “I saw you liked my post,” he’ll say, grinning like a fool. he’s clearly obsessed with making sure you know he’s into the same things you are.

seungkwan loves making you laugh. he’ll crack jokes loudly, making sure you hear them, and give you a sidelong glance to see if you’re laughing. when you try to hold back a laugh, he’s beaming, he flashes a triumphant grin, clearly pleased that he managed to get a reaction from you.

vernon is always tuned in to your preferences. if you mention liking boys in pink hoodies, he’ll show up in one the next day. if you talk about sour patch kids, he’ll have a pack open right next to you, offering you some with a shy smile. “you like these, right? I don’t really like them, you can have it...” he says, clearly hoping you’ll appreciate the gesture.

chan is the quintessential attention-seeker in P.E. classes, for example. he’ll go all out to show off, from pretending to be hurt to make you worry to making sure you see him perform. “hey, partner up with me!” he’ll call out, positioning himself right next to you, clearly hoping to get closer. when he’s showing off, he needs to make sure you’re paying attention to him.

[theemporium]

[4.9k] things start to feel real as luke’s rookie season in the nhl officially begins. but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. and maybe those good vibes will follow him off the ice too. (smut)

series masterlist

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“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

Your smile widened as you pulled the door open further, letting the boy shuffle inside with a small wince at the bright sun shining through your windows. The hood of his jumper was thrown over his head, his curls a mess and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he stole from Jack’s room after he woke up. 

It wasn’t the best state for you to see him but, truthfully, that was not his biggest concern at the moment. 

A few months away from college and he almost forgot what a bad influence his friends could be when it came to drinking. There was a vague memory somewhere around the fifth round of shots where Luke was pretty sure Nico tried to get them to drink some water, but it was pointless when Ethan found another bottle of tequila and insisted they had to drink it before it went to waste.

And, to Luke’s drunken mind, that sounded like the most logical solution. 

He was honestly surprised the three of them had managed to wake up early enough to catch the plane back to Michigan. They had woken him up to say goodbye, muttering something about afternoon practice and other things that Luke vaguely remembered before he fell back asleep for a few hours. 

Luke was pretty sure he was still drunk when he woke up a second time to the sound of Jack blasting music in the kitchen. 

Somewhere between his annoying brother and the lingering anxiety that followed with the hangover as result of the night before, Luke found himself at a local bakery to grab some goods before he stopped over at your place, not even thinking to message you beforehand (if he even knew where his phone was). 

“But you don’t smell shit so that’s a plus,” you noted as you shut the door behind him before taking pity on his state, dragging the curtains shut again whilst Luke muttered his thanks under his breath.

“I think I bought half the bakery,” Luke admitted with a sheepish expression as he extended the bag towards you. “I asked for every cherry based thing they owned, which surprisingly isn’t much.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I should have tried another bakery.”

You laughed, brows raised in question. “I’m surprised you can stomach anything right now.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Luke said, his nose scrunching up in disgust like the idea made him feel nauseous. It did, if he was being honest. It was bad enough he almost threw up after Jack made him chug some water. “These were…well, they were the start of an apology.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“For…abandoning you in my room after everything,” he continued, his cheeks heating up. Because apparently no matter how much he drank the night before, he remembered well enough that he was a bit of a dick with how he ran off with his friends. “It was a shitty move. And it was shitty for me to make you hide under the bed.”

“That did throw me off,” you admitted, though there was a slight teasing tilt to your voice. “Although, your bed was surprisingly clean under there. No plates growing mould or other questionable diseases.”

Luke scoffed a little. “I’m not a slob.”

You shot him a look.

“I’m not that much of a slob,” Luke corrected, grumbling under his breath before he let out a sigh. “You know, you are making this apology a lot harder than I imagined it being.”

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re hungover as fuck,” you teased, but you took the baked good from him. You peaked inside, noting just how much he had actually bought and something warm twisted in your stomach. “You really didn’t have to. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Luke.”

“But it was to me,” he murmured, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I…I shouldn’t have done that. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. And I know they wouldn’t judge me but…”

“Hey,” you stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch him. “It’s fine, I promise. This was a part you hid from them for so long and it freaked you out. I get it.”

“I’m not embarrassed by you,” he blurted out, because apparently he has no filter or control over the words leaving his mouth. “Just in case you thought that. Because I’m not. The boys would probably love you but like—”

“You just don’t want them asking questions,” you finished for him, watching as the boy shyly nodded his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself but thank you, anyways. And thank you for the pastries.” 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, nodding a little. “Well, I–”

“Go lay down,” you said, a smile growing on your face when his shoulders slumped in relief. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit. The fact you are even awake before noon is shocking, to be honest.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief as he made his way towards your couch, his feet shuffling against the floor. “If I had to go back and listen to Jack blast his obnoxious playlists, I would have died.”

You snorted. “Aw, baby is facing his first, proper hangover outside of cheap college vodka.”

He pulled his sunglasses off to glare at you. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Lie down,” you prompted as you gently pushed him a step forward. “We can nap on the couch. I’ll even show you the trick to hangovers.”

He raised his brows. “It’s not gonna be some weird shit like drinking raw egg yolks, is it?” 

“I was going to offer head scratches but if you want raw eggs—”

“No!”

You grinned. “That’s what I thought.” 

…

The thing about playing with the team during playoffs was that, as amazing as it was, they did get knocked out and the whole thing felt fairly short-lived.

Don’t get him wrong, it was still a surreal experience. Hockey had been a constant in his life, something that always felt familiar and welcoming no matter where he was. It had felt as recognisable and comforting to him as his family was. 

But to know he had made it? To know he was skating and playing and wearing the jersey of an NHL team? 

It brought a new thrill to hockey he had never expected, but basked in, nonetheless. It added an extra layer, an extra kick that college hockey could never compete with. It made him feel like everything was worth it, that everything worked out and his dreams aligned with the stars and—fuck, he was making his debut in the National Hockey League. 

But as fast as it came, it went. 

And then summer happened. 

And he was distracted by long nights in Michigan summer heat and cool beers and boat rides that made him feel like nothing else existed beyond the lakehouse. It felt like he was just a normal guy, spending the summer break with his brothers and his friends and pretending like life was always this easy. 

It was his last thread to normalcy before his life fully changed. 

And then he was moving to Jersey, his belongings packed into boxes and cases as he moved in with Jack for the first time since his brother was drafted. He spent days being paraded around his new city, trying to feel familiar in the unfamiliar apartment, trying to bond with a team that had been together long before his arrival. 

It was confusing and exciting and baffling and scary. Every emotion a person could experience, Luke had felt tenfold since he had started preseason training. He felt like he was stumbling through a life that wasn’t his, trying to catch up and get a hold of himself. 

Then, in a blink of an eye, he was about to step out for his first official game of his rookie year in the NHL. 

And, for some stupid reason, he was far more nervous than he had been for the playoff games. 

There wasn’t a pressure on him during the playoffs, not really. People were letting mistakes slide, willing to look over things because it was his first time stepping foot onto the ice for an NHL team. He knew he technically had that luxury now too, that he was a rookie and he was allowed to use this year to find his footing.

But it was hard to remember he was a rookie when everyone and everything kept reminding him he was the third Hughes brother. He wasn’t just a normal rookie or young kid starting out their career in the big leagues. He was the third brother to try and live up to an insane standard his brothers have set, he had to prove he wasn’t a bust who only got here because of his name. 

Luke felt more than ever that he had to prove he belonged, that he deserved to have his spot and his place in the team. That he was more than just his surname and the connotations it brought.

He had to prove—

cherry🍒: break a leg or whatever they say in hockey

cherry🍒: actually wait

cherry🍒: don’t break a leg, that would be pretty shit for you

cherry🍒: feel like it would be pretty useful to skate with two unbroken legs

cherry🍒: what i am trying to say is good luck! 

And, in a silly way, he knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t need to hear someone else say something, to try and reassure him. Jack had tried a few times to prompt the conversation as game day approached. A few of the other guys had tried too. Hell, even Quinn had called him to try and give him a pep talk.

But, in the nicest way he could put it, it felt meaningless when it came from people he felt like needed to say it. 

They needed to believe in him. 

You didn’t. 

Fuck, you didn’t even know a single thing about the sport. You didn’t understand the significance of his last name in the sport. You didn’t understand just how intense the next year of his life was about to be. You didn’t understand a single thing that the other people in his life had been trying to reassure him over. 

And, for some reason that was beyond Luke’s own understanding, that was what he needed.

He needed that unwavering, unbreakable faith from someone who didn’t have to support him. You weren’t his family. You weren’t his teammate. You weren’t a fan. You had no reason to lie to him, to sugarcoat your words and fluff away his worries. You had no reason to believe in him other than the fact you just did. 

And it was what he needed.

It was what he needed minutes before the game was due to start, the clock ticking to puck drop and his eyes lingering on your messages before he had to get up and head out to the ice.

He needed you. 

…

They won the first game of the season. 

And then, because the person in the league who was organising the game schedule decided they wanted to try and test them this early on, they played their second game the next night. 

And they won that one too.

It was surreal, to be fucking frank. It was a kind of buzz that Luke had never experienced before, not in hockey at least. 

Winning was always great, regardless of what age or what league you were playing in. Truthfully, he didn’t think anything would beat the thrill college hockey gave him. His attachment to the boys on his team, the adrenaline of the win pumping through him as he basked in the cheering crowd. 

He thought that was his peak. He thought that was the best it would ever get. 

And then he joined the NHL. 

There was something about wearing the jersey, about knowing that they had thousands of fans watching the game. There was something about skating straight towards his big brother and feeling Jack scream in his ear as they were crowded by the other boys. There was something about knowing this had been his dream since he was a kid, to know he was now living it out. 

It was the perfect way to kick off their season—to kick off his rookie season—and Luke genuinely didn’t think he could sit down for longer than two seconds if someone asked him to. His body was bone-tired, he needed decent rest because professional hockey was no joke and his body was still not used to the jump from college hockey.

But he was buzzing. He was practically vibrating with how excited he was. He felt like he could do anything at that moment.

The locker room was buzzing with talks about how to celebrate. Most of them were tired—happy but fucking tired. The younger group wanted to head out to a bar, the older ones wanted to try to be responsible for the sake of practice in the morning. Nico was somewhere in the middle, trying to be diplomatic and find a solution that worked for everyone.

But honestly, Luke didn’t want to stand in a bar where he would either have to sneak drinks or stay sober. And he didn’t particularly want to get drunk in the first place. And he didn’t want to just head home with Jack when his body felt like it could start bouncing off the walls. 

He had this ever present, insistent buzz itching beneath his skin and he had a million and one ideas on how to scratch it. 

Truthfully, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember the post-game interviews or whatever chirps were being thrown his way in the locker room. He didn’t remember what fuck-ass excuse he gave Jack as he clambered into the backseat of an Uber. He didn’t even remember ordering the Uber in the first place. 

He just knew it led him to your doorstep, knocking on your door somewhere past eleven when he hadn’t even stopped to think if you’d be awake or not. He just knew he wanted to see you. 

It was almost a shock when the door swung open a couple of seconds after he knocked. 

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team, winner?” You teased, leaning against the door as you spoke. Though, you didn’t look all that bothered with Luke showing up this late to your place unannounced. 

But his brain was still moving a million miles an hour and he knew—somewhere amongst the chaos of his thoughts—that he should have said hello, or apologised for randomly showing up, or for banging on your door when you could have been asleep.

But the only thing he managed to blurt out was, “I want to make you come.” 

You blinked. And again. And then one more time. 

And he thought his racing heart was going to explode in his chest before you pulled the door open wider, an invitation for him to step inside as you muttered something about your nosy neighbours overhearing the whole conversation and eavesdropping. 

Luke stood aimlessly in your entrance hallway, watching as you spun to quickly close the door behind him before turning on your heel to face him. You leaned back against the door, making his chest tighten in some kind of way at the way you smiled at him.

“Feeling confident after your big win, huh?” You grinned, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and he couldn’t help but find the act oddly endearing. “Does this mean you’re, like, first place or something?”

Luke didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on his face. “Yeah, we basically won the whole thing. Everyone has just forfeited from the championship.” 

“You know, you joke but if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you trying not to laugh at me, I would have believed you,” you said to him before pushing off the door, taking a few steps closer to him. “You never answered my question though. Did the win make you feel more confident?” 

“Maybe,” he swallowed, his fingers itching to just reach out for you the second you were at arm’s length from him. “It’s just…you always do stuff for me. I wanna do stuff for you too. But like, it’s okay if you don’t want—”

“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.

He frowned a little.

“Don’t second guess your own confidence,” you corrected yourself as you stopped just a step or two away from him. “Be sure of yourself. It’s hot.”

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, though it didn’t sound all that self-assured. 

“Remember, just like hockey. You practice and then you play. We’ve been doing the exact same.” And weirdly enough, your words were comforting. “Have some faith in yourself, Luke.” 

“Right. Just like hockey,” he murmured, glancing at the small distance between the two of you.

“Just like hockey,” you repeated with a small nod.

And, just like hockey, Luke let himself act before he over thought his actions too much. Hockey was about acting fast and thinking later. It was about acting on your instincts and trusting your teammate would be on the other side of the puck. It was about letting every move, every hit, every shot to be nothing but one hundred percent. It was about taking the chance before it was gone.

Luke took a step forward, closing the distance between you two as his hands reached to cup your face before he kissed you. You let out a noise of surprise that sounded from the back of your throat before you sunk into it, letting your hands rest against his stomach as he took control.

It was intoxicating, in a way you had never experienced with Luke before. Most of the time, he was happy to let you take control. He got this cute but hopeless look on his face when he didn’t know where to put his hands. He was happy to just sit back and let you tell him exactly just how you wanted to be touched, kissed, held. 

But this was different. It was overwhelming. It was suffocating in the best way possible. Feeling his body tower over you, feeling his large palms holding you just where he wanted you as his tongue slid into your mouth. Feeling the way Luke acted when he didn’t think, when he didn’t get in his own head, when he just let his body act the way it wanted to. 

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands dropped from your face, fingers wrapping around your thighs with a stuttered ‘jump’ whispered against your lips before he lifted you with the ease only a professional athlete could achieve.

He barely pulled away as he walked deeper into your apartment, the layout practically memorised in his head considering the fact he spent just as much time here as he did in his own apartment. His arms were locked on you, not letting you slip a bit as he wandered into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a gentleness that made your stomach dip. 

“Show off,” you murmured as you glanced up at him, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt.

He lazily grinned down at you. “I can be impressive sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” Your lips twitched upwards as you shuffled back until you were sat further up the bed. You reached for the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head and tossing the clothing off to the side. “Come show me how impressive you can be, Hughes.” 

He swallowed, eyes darting over your figure before he slowly began making his way onto the bed. “You’re sure?” 

“You were the one who came knocking on my door, saying you wanted to make me come,” you teased. 

“Yeah but,” Luke paused for a second as his gaze caught yours. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because I want to.” He flashed you an awkward but sweet smile. “Consent is sexy, you know?” 

You snorted, but you grinned back at him. “You have my consent to make me come, Luke.”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I just…I want you to enjoy it but I don’t…”

“Breathe,” you murmured in a softer voice, reaching up to gently squeeze his cheeks to catch his attention. “I’m still here, you’re not doing this alone. Just like hockey, remember? Think of me as your teammate.”

His face instantly scrunched up. “I really don’t want to be thinking about any of my teammates right now.”

You snorted, despite yourself. 

“Yeah, okay, maybe not my finest choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing this alone. Sex is a ‘two way street’, ‘it takes two to tango’ kinda thing, Luke,” you spoke as you reached down to guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings. “We’re doing this together.” 

“Together,” he murmured with a nod.

“Just like hockey,” you said to him again, seeing a hint of his earlier confidence shine in his eyes as his fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down your legs. 

He tugged them over your feet before throwing them off to the side, where your hoodie still laid. He didn’t even hesitate before he ripped his own shirt off over his head, in some weird mixed statement so you weren’t the only one who was half-naked—and because he felt his whole body running far warmer than he thought was normal. 

“Foreplay is important. It’s like warm-ups, it’s necessary and preferred and makes the game easier, as well as more enjoyable,” you said, your voice a little lower than before as you gently guided one of his hands from your waist downwards. “It makes her feel good. It makes you feel good. It’s sexy.” 

“Sexy,” he noted with a nod, though his eyes were transfixed on you. 

Luke gulped a little as his fingers rested along the elastic waistband of your panties. His heart was racing in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears and it was a little hard to focus on the words you were saying when his dick was twitching in his sweatpants.

“Just gotta know where to touch her,” you whispered, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers lightly skimmed over your clothed cunt. You choked out a gasp as you pressed a slow, deliberate circle over your clit. 

He didn’t think even a meteor crashing into your bedroom could make him tear his eyes away from you right now.

“Try.”

Luke’s brows raised a little as you stared at him expectantly. 

“C’mon, winner,” your lips twitched upwards. “Just like hockey.”

Just like hockey.

Luke slowly ran his hand over your waist, feeling the cotton fabric of your panties under his touch. He kept his eyes locked on your cunt, trying to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 

A soft sigh left your lips and his eyes snapped up to look at your face, to watch your expressions closely to see what you reacted to. His thumb pressed down experimentally and your nose twitched a little.

“A little higher.”

He listened. 

“Firm but gentle.”

He listened.

“Fuck, just like that, Luke.” 

He listened.

“A little faster.” 

Luke listened. 

He listened as you guided him. He listened until there was a small wet spot on the front of your panties. He listened until you were panting and telling him to pull them down your legs. He listened as he gently glided his fingers between your folds, watching with dark eyes as his fingers glinted with your release. 

“I get it,” he muttered out at some point, his thumb pressing down on your swollen clit as your hips bucked up against his touch. “The noises. Why you like them.” He gulped a little as his eyes glanced up at you. “You sound pretty when you’re moaning, Cherry.”

“Shit,” your eyes fluttered shut as you reached down to grip his wrist. “Just…fuck, I need to feel you inside me.”

His cheeks burned hot. 

“Just,” you panted, chewing down on your bottom lip until it was red and a little swollen. “Slow, okay?”

He gulped. “You sure?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “You wanna make me come?”

He nodded.

“Then yeah, I’m sure,” you murmured, brows furrowed together as you felt him glide his fingers through your folds until they were completely covered. 

And, if Luke was being so completely honest, he could have come in his pants from the sight alone. It was like at the last possible moment, his brain remembered to look up as he slowly slide one finger inside you and, fuck, he was glad he did.

He felt entranced. He felt mesmerised. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hypnosis and he couldn’t look away. 

He wanted to burn this moment in his memory so he could never, never forget it. He wanted to memorise the way your eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to memorise the way you felt squeezing around him, like you didn’t want him to ever leave. He wanted to memorise the way your lips parted with a silent scream as he slid another finger inside you, as he curled his fingers, as you bucked your hips. 

He wanted to remember every single fucking moment until the day he died.

“A little faster,” you breathed out, your head thrown back on your pillow as he followed your instructions. “Shit, yes. Like that. Fuck.”

“Good?” Luke murmured, his whole body feeling like it was on fire and his dick straining against his boxers but, fuck, he couldn’t care less when his attention was on you.

“Good,” you confirmed with a nod as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching down to give your clit some attention. “So good, Luke.” 

Something in his stomach flipped at your words. 

If someone asked Luke Hughes how the last forty-eight hours of his life had been, he would tell them it had been fucking amazing. 

And if they asked him what the best moment was, he should probably answer that he has too many to choose from. That maybe it was the fact he officially started his rookie year in the National Hockey League. That maybe it was the fact he won not one, but two NHL games. That maybe it was the fact they won them one after the other. That maybe it was the fact he did all of the above whilst sharing the ice with his big brother.

But, in all fucking honesty, Luke would have chosen this moment. 

He would have chosen the sight of you writhing and squirming beneath him. He would have chosen the sight of you panting and moaning and begging. He would have chosen the sight of you coming on his fingers, your back arching off the bed and his name a whimper on your lips. He would have chosen the sleepy smile you gave him as your body twitched as he pulled his fingers out, already missing the feeling of you clenched around him. He would have chosen the look of pure lust and desire in your eyes as you watched him slide his fingers in his mouth, his body moving before his brain caught up as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers. 

He would have chosen this moment. And maybe that realisation would be a lot more alarming and head-spinning in a couple of hours, but right now it was a passing thought before he slumped down on the bed next to you.

“Luke?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re a good student,” you murmured, feeling a smile on your lips as he let out a small huff of laughter. “A little more practice and I think you could have a good business going for you if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.”

He shook his head. “I think my skating skills are still better than my sex skills, but the confidence you have in me is appreciated.”

“Hm, true,” you said as you nudged his arm, lifting it up before you curled into his side. Luke didn’t say anything but wrap his arm around you to pull you closer. “You do skate very fast.” 

“Those two videos really told you everything you needed to know, huh?” He teased, his words light-hearted and joking and warm. 

“No, the games you just played told me that,” you corrected.

Luke froze, his mind replaying the words in his head like he wasn’t sure he heard you right the first time. “You watched my games?”

“Yeah,” you answered like it was obvious. “You said they were the start of the important ones, the ones that counted. I mean, I didn’t understand half of it and I spent a significant amount confused but,” you paused to shrug. “I wanted to support you.”

His chest tightened and it was a little harder to breathe, but he didn’t really want to let you go just yet.

“You didn’t have to,” he eventually choked out.

“I wanted to,” you answered before continuing. “Who knows, maybe I’m your good luck charm.” 

He knew you were joking. He could hear as much in your voice. But it still made his heart clench a little at the thought.

“Guess you gotta watch every game then.” 

“Guess you gotta teach me the game so I understand it then.” 

His arm tightened around you, his face burned red and his heart skipped a beat or two. But he still managed to mutter out, “Deal, Cherry.”

.

[its-your-mind]

ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel

The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.

But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started

Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.

Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).

And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.

But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.

AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…

It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.

Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.

Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.

Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.

And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.

[avianyuh]

Jeon Wonwoo as a boyfriend...

Other SVT as bf's { S.Coups , Jeonghan , Minghao/The8 , Hoshi }

Like most, I'm sure Wonwoo appeals to you because upon introduction, you think he's the quiet, brooding type

But he'd show a different side of himself in a relationship with you

A goofball all the way

Any carat knows that he's a secret comedian

I think he'd always be trying to make you laugh

Had a bad day? He'll make you watch a funny video he saw

Texting him that you miss him?

You will be sent stupid pictures as his response

GAMING

He's not competitive though

He likes to play chill games with you just because he likes to spend his time doing one of his favorite things with you

And that makes him really happy!

Please encourage him and geek out with him over video games

I think he can be sensitive sometimes

But strikes me as the type to not verbalize when something is bothering him

So being with someone observant would do him good, get him to open up more

Especially in the beginning of the relationship

I think overtime, you won't have to try as hard to get him to share his feelings with you

He'll just naturally start to feel really comfortable around you

The g-gl-glasses

Ughhhh

I know you love them

You get to see him in his glasses basically everywhere

Barely takes them off to begin with

Even some promotions he keeps them on

Imagine late night gaming with him

The lights are all out and your sitting as close to each other as possible

And the reflection of the computer screen is in his glasses and he's all happy because he's really enjoying himself omg

You're just looking at him and thinking Damn that's my man...

As I've pointed out in my previous dating seventeen posts, you have to pass the vibe check and get approval from all the members if you want to be a permanent part of Wonwoo's life

Strikes me as the type to see you on the down-low for a few months

Would probably mention you to Mingyu since last I heard, they're roomies

You'd be introduced to Mingyu first

Then he'd probably mention that he met someone to the rest of the guys

Then he'd bring you around the dorm, or a dance practice, somewhere you can meet as many members as possible

That way Seungkwan can be his extroverted self and make you feel comfortable.

Like, imagine meeting another relatively quiet member like Jun or Woozi

"Nice to meet you😐🙂"

Please tell me you can see that happening cuz I can

Maybe even Minghao or Seungcheol would be sorta awkward

Like not in a bad way, but introverts need time to warm up to someone new (speaking from experience)

But once everyone has been acquainted and they like you, you will be family and it will shift from like to love

Because you treat Wonu right and you make him happy

Wonwoo being with you would make him more energetic and outgoing

He's a homebody

Normally I would say opposites attract, but in his case I definetly think being with another introvert would be ideal lol

Would recommend you a lot of books

And would want you to read his favorites so the two of you could discuss them

Same with video games

Remember I told you to let him geek out?

PLZ LET HIM BE A GEEK!!!!!!

I think Wonwoo would love to go on vacation every once in a while

I think he can drive abroad

But even just driving in Korea

Going on day trips

Just talking, singing to your favorite songs

Teasing him by playing some of SVT's music

Or just sitting in a comfortable silence

That's the best type of silence and it's very underrated imo

One thing about Wonwoo is how tall he is

6 feet I think? (182 cm for those not in the U.S.)

And he has very broad shoulders

Imagine watching a scary movie with him and hiding your face in his chest, and he wraps his arms around you

Lowkey protective

Just wants to keep you safe

Loves everything about you

The type to stare at you and just blurt out that he finds you beautiful

He's well read so he'd probably say something really poetic

Just makes you feel special

Shexy Shtuff:

Okay, we need to sit and have a conversation about how buff this man is...

Look at those pecs

Damn

He's ripped

He's not a gym bro, but he definitely likes going

Imagine him coming home and he's all sweaty and his muscles are all visible

He loves a good sweater or hoodie so I think seeing his physique is rare

The quiet ones are always great kissers...

This bitch is all dark and mysterious

A.K.A most likely a FREAK

Uses tongue when he kisses

Like, probably pulls you on top of him if you're on the couch or lays you down on the bed

Or pins you against the wall if he's frustrated or hasn't seen you in a while

If you ever got in an argument he's apologizing profusely and then making up for it in bed

Definitely a grunter

Not overly vocal

More concerned with your needs

Definitely a giver

I don't think he's that adventurous when it comes to location

Bed, shower, couch maybe

Most of the time, you'll be watching a movie or maybe sitting on his lap if you come in while he's playing games on his computer (or just doing something on his computer in general)

So there you are, sitting on his lap, not trying to do anything sexual, just asking what he's playing or doing

And at first everything's good but as you're readjusting yourself in his lap, you're shifting around and suddenly he's getting turned on

He'd start kissing your cheek, your neck, moving his hands up to waist

Eventually getting impatient and scooping you up and taking you to his bedroom

Shower sex after the gym

Or late at night after practice if he isn't too tired

I see him being a big pillow-talker

Get's really emotionally vulnerable with you after sex

And that's how you know he trusts you

And congratulations, his voice is already deep as is, but in the morning, omg he'd sound so hot right after he wakes up

Would love to just keep you in his arms and lay in bed for a while, especially if he had nothing to do that day

Okay, i think this is long enough now

In conclusion, I think he'd be a great boyfriend

~

{A/N: AHHH, omg I'm sorry I've been inactive the past two weeks, I got pneumonia. I'm still recovering but felt really bad that I hadn't posted. I've been trying to make up my missed schoolwork. I couldn't think of a fanfic to write so I decided to do a headcanon for seventeen to add to the series. Wonwoo was my first bias back in 2017 before I realized I'm a coups girl. But I'll be honest, sometimes I'm creeping on Wonwoo's fancams (sorry Cheol) Anyways, I love you guys so much whether you're a frequent reader/follower or this is your first time reading anything from me. I love you, have a great day/night, whenever you're reading this, mwahhhh❤️ I put in a continue reading because this one was so much longer than my previous bf headcanons, Wonwoo, a man of substance lol}

[lcriedlastnight]

Enemies to lovers with Lando. Someone says something bad / criticises Lando in front of reader and she immediately defends him without knowing he’s behind her and can hear everything. And maybe as she’s defending him she’s also unknowingly/ without realizing / accidentally admitting her feelings for him

i love this idea! thank you so much anon, love!

tw: fem!reader, swears, logan hate (do not support!), little lando hate, not spellchecked or proof read, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 2k

you and lando had never gotten along. you’d never gotten along and you’d never tried to. it was just one of those things, you supposed. you didn’t make a big deal out of it as the two of you shared a friend group and didn’t want to cause any issues between the group. lando however, well it seemed like he had a serious issue with you.

at first you did try to get along with him, his ego was massive and that really did put you off wanting to be friends with him but you could be fake a friendship with him. a friendship out of convenience was perfectly fine with you. lando was just having none of it. he’d ignore any conversation you would try to have with him - even in a group setting. you had tried just not talking to him but even that left you on the receiving end of dirty looks and mean comments. you’d had enough with it so you stopped caring about him entirely.

well that’s what you told your friends. in reality; you cared what he thought, you looked for his reaction to any story that was told in the room and you looked to see if he laughed at your jokes. every single time you were left with blank stares and bored expressions.

your friends noticed this and tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you but because of lando’s stubbornness, there was nothing they could really do. he really did make things difficult sometimes.

you had all gathered around the drivers house to celebrate a mutual close friend’s birthday. you and you close girl friends had gotten ready for the get together at your house and headed to the party together.

“so is the vibe for tonight party or chilled?” your friend asks as you jump out of the taxi outside lando’s apartment complex. your other friend snorts in amusement before she replies.

“girl, we’re at lando’s what do you think the vibe is?”. you frown. the party vibe wasn’t really what the birthday boy enjoyed so you hoped for his sake it was more a chilled, hanging with friends vibe. you also didn’t really dress for a party, your favourite pair of jeans on as well as one of those cute baby tee’s you found on tiktok.

“i hope not. fin doesn’t really like parties.” you remind them as you press the buzzer for lando’s. it rings for a second then you hear his crackly voice through the speaker. “hello?”. he sounded sober. good start.

“can you let us in please?” you ask into the intercom. there is a pause before lando replies.

“no. we’re full.”

your friend rolls her eyes at his words, knowing all this is was because he was talking to you. if he would just stop acting like a dickhead for more than two seconds people could maybe get things done. meanwhile, you huff at lando’s words opening your mouth to complain to him but your friend cuts in. “just let us in, norris.”.

she sounds fed up enough already that lando immediately tells them to “head on up, then.” she storms ahead of you and your other friend. you look at each other with annoyed looks.

“to be fair it’s a good thing she did that because you haven’t fell into his traps in months.” she reminds you as you reach his door which was open waiting on you and your friend. you nod. it was true, ignoring lando was really going well for you… from your friends point of view anyways. your mind was still plagued with thoughts of him.

your friend walks in before you so make sure to close the door behind you.

“so i guess we were wrong. looks like it is a chill night.” you friend says as she sees your friends dotted around the place, conversing. it looked very adult. weird for something lando was in charge of planning. you didn’t know he was capable of being anything except snide and rude. maybe he could be thoughtful and caring to the people he loved. the thought makes you frown but before you can linger on it for too long your friend grabs you both a drink and you take seats on his couch.

you notice you’re the last ones to arrive and try to find your friend that stormed off earlier. your eyes rake around the room until they land on her sitting with fin, the birthday boy. they looked cosy. ‘good for them’ you think as you take a sip of your drink. you notice lando sitting with his friend, max, on the couch next to you. you glance in his direction then redirect your eyes.

after maybe half an hour of socialising and drinking, fin announces (with your other friend hanging off his arm) that he wants to play a game of truth or dare. you thought it was a bit childish but everyone agreed so you did too. you all sit in a circle and decide to place a bottle in the middle.

“this is so high school.” you say to your friend, who just laughs in agreement. you had ended up sitting next to max on one side and your friend on the other. you quite liked max, he was nothing like lando, which helped you like him a lot more.

“since it’s my birthday, i’ll go first!” fin says as he spins the bottle. it lands on max. fin grins before asking the question you know you’re going to be tired of hearing after tonight.

after a couple of rounds a few of you disperse to get drinks and use the toilet. you were pretty sure some went for a smoke break. you didn’t even know anyone where smoked. lando was one of the people that had left, he went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and max. the good thing about not being able to let anyone know you were staring at lando was that you got good at lip reading and hearing things from a distance. you also got good at seeing things out of the corner of your eye. it was during your turn when lando asked max if he wanted another drink. you felt like you were keeping tabs on the boy, you were starting to feel a bit creepy as you answered your question.

the game continues as people (lando) leave. it was your friend turn but she was a bit more than drunk and would only accept a question from fin, the man she was clinging to all night.

you can all see the wheels turning in fin’s mind as he thinks up a question. “how good of a driver do you think lando actually is?” he finally asks.

everyone perks up at the question, wanting to see if your friend had any unpopular opinions on lando’s driving skills.

“he’s shit. like- that’s him just won his first race? after racing for like five years? that doesn’t really scream future world champion does it?” she criticised, words slurred. your face is screwed up in disagreement. you bite your tongue though, knowing she was drunk and probably just wanted to start something. you’re sure you heard someone gasp.

“you don’t really mean that?” another one of your friends asks in shock. your drunk friend only nods.

“i do. he’s bad. like he’s not logan sargent bad but he’s mid at best and i don’t understand the hype. i never have and i don’t think i ever will.” she smiles a little and that’s what gets you.

“i’m sorry are you being serious right now? firstly the audacity you have to sit there, shitfaced, bashing on the person who’s house you’re inside and who bought you the drinks in the first place is absurd,” you start, bring her down a peg. you hear footsteps behind you but you’re too pent up to acknowledge them right now.

“secondly, have you even watched a race? ever? or even recently? because if you had then you would know just how good he actually is. you’re sitting there talking about him like you know exactly how hard he worked to get to where he is and to achieve that win. millions of people - who actually watch the races, by the way - have said how difficult it is to end verstappen’s win streak and lando was the first person to do so this season.” you rant, enraged that she spoke about lando like that.

her mouth opens and closes a few times before she says, almost cockily. “carlos sainz won before lando did, in australia. you act like i don’t know shit about f1.”

“lando’s win means way more than carlos’ because max was still in the race in miami. he had the chance to actually win it, whereas in australia he dnf’d. so do you actually know what you’re talking about? i, along with like a million other people like lando and think he’s going to go very far the rest of the season.” you educate her. she should really know all of this seeing as you always told her every detail about the races on the mondays following.

“bitch.” she has nothing to retaliate with so she chooses to resort to name calling. you don’t even give her a reply and stand up to go outside to get some air. you stand up so quickly you don’t see the feet standing directly behind you or the hard chest you smash into. you could tell it was lando from the scent. was it weird? maybe but you didn’t care much. you’re embarrassed that he probably heard your rant defending him and that you just smashed right into his chest so you step backwards and head to lando’s balcony to sit outside with the smokers.

you rush outside and sit down in the far corner next to the railing. you watch the streets below for a few minutes, trying to forget what you had just done and who you had done it in front of. you feel lando looming over you a few minutes later.

“y’alright?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. you feel uncomfortable a little, you’ve never been this close to him, even though that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted for the past three years. and he’s being nice to you. lando have never been nice to you. ever. you’d seen him be nice to others, hundreds of times before so you knew what it was like, but you could only have dreamed of being on the receiving end of it.

“yeah.” you reply. you move your head from watching the cars pass on the road to rest your forehead on your tucked up knees.

“thank you for what you did… well said i guess. it was really nice of you.” lando starts, his hand sits awfully close to the edge of your shoe. it’s not touching but if you shuffled your foot a few times towards him, it would be.

“i know i don’t really deserve it. not from you anyways. you’ve always been so sweet to me and i’ve kinda been- well a dick.” you let out a breathy giggle at his choice of words.

“yeah. you have been a dick.” lando grins as you agree with him.

“what if i said i didn’t wanna be a dick to you anymore?” he said, you’re sure you heard a hint of shyness in his voice.

you move you’re head from it’s resting place to look at him in confusion. “you don’t? how do you want to treat me then?” you ask.

lando smiles. “like i should’ve been for the past god knows how long.” you give him your own smile back.

“for the record i like you too.” lando teases, his hand coming to clutch at your thigh. you groan.

“i hate you.” he laughs that laugh.

“no you don’t.” you rest your head on your shoulder and listen to the traffic. lando’s thumb rubs across your skin. his touch is soothing. this is the first nice memory you have with lando.

[chrissturniolosbiggestslut]

— BRATTY BITCH

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

in which:

chris fucks your attitude out of you in the bathroom, nick and matt in the room just next door.

warnings: dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sex ( boooo wrap it before you tap it), pure filthhh, degrading, praising, oral (m receiving), creampie, slight breeding kink

**NOT PROOFREAD**

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

it wasn't often that you and chris had arguments. however it was often that you and chris would have a huge fucking attitude on the same day. seeing that you and chris both were on the sassy, petty side of things, disagreements tended to spike when one or both of you were having a bad day.

though something about today was different, the way you and chris continued to shoot bitter and snarky remarks back and forth ticked you off just as much as it did him. but this time it set another something off inside of you; lust, desire.

as odd as it felt, the venom in chris's harsh words and the deep set appearance of his eyes and brows while he stared at you in annoyance caused a familiar warmth to grow between your legs. 

there was nothing you could do about it now, though, as you and chris were streaming on twitch, accompanied by nick and matt. you knew exactly what you were doing, constantly flashing him the "fuck me" eyes was your favorite thing to do right now. but as much as you appeared to want him, you only continued to shoot disses at him.

"im sorry this stream isn't giving as hard as it should be," nick begins, "y/n and chris have been bitching and complaining all day and like hate each other today so the vibes are a little off!" he states sassily, dramatically side-eyeing you and then chris before returning the attention to the game him and matt were in the middle of. 

thinking about what nick said, you smirk and turn your body so your back is rested against the couch's armrest. you pull your legs up toward your chest so that you just barely clothed pussy is on display for chris at the other end of the couch, it only covered by the thin sleep shorts you're wearing and nothing more.

chris looks in your eyes, down between your legs, then back up into your eyes. you couldn't help but notice the shift of his hips and the darkening of his eyes once he met your eyes again. you smirked once more, biting your lip and looking away. 

chris has finally had enough, glancing at nick and matt to ensure that the stream won't be able to see his massive boner when he walks by before making his way, grabbing you harshly by the wrist and dragging you into the bathroom just outside his room.

he slams and locks the door behind you both, immediately locking his dark eyes to yours. "you think you're fucking funny, hm?" he questions, his expression dripping in annoyance, anger, but most prominently, lust. 

you shrug, "i think i am, yeah." 

"who the fuck do you think you are, running your mouth all day with that big ass attitude?" he questions eyeing your body up and down. you watch as the print in his sweats grows, and you almost laugh.

you smile in amusement, "you act like you weren't doing the same fucking thing! ignoring me every time i tried to be nice and actually help you with something, really?" you sigh, "i mean it's seriously just unbelievably how-"

your rant is cut short when you're slammed against the bathroom door with a thud and suddenly, chris's lips are on yours. as much as you hate to admit it, you immediately gave into the kiss, answering it with so much desire and neediness in you.

feeling chris's hands squeeze on your ass, you gasp, apparently giving chris an invitation to shove his tongue down your throat, deepening the makeout even further. 

you clasp your hands behind his neck, kissing him harsh as you feel his hands leave your ass and instead slip your tiny shorts off of your body. his hands glide down your ass to your dripping pussy, gliding a finger through your slit, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. 

you feel him pull his lips from yours as he stands up straight. "c'mon baby, put that stupid little mouth to use, yeah?" he states, fiddling with the waist of his sweats before pulling them down and kicking them off at the ankles, soon removing his shirt as well.

you oblige, sinking to your knees desperately, feeling a twist in your lower stomach as more time goes by without him inside of you. 

he lets you do the honors of ripping his boxers down, letting his huge, hard dick spring out from under them. he kicks those off too, leaving him completely naked. you stroke him a few times before kitten licking his tip, causing his head to be thrown back as he leans against the counter. 

"we don't have all fucking night, bitch, let's go," he spits as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

you look up at him through your lashes, stuffing his cock down your throat. "oh shit," he whimpers softly, pushing your head down harshly, forcing you to take all 9 inches of him in your mouth.

you gag, spit dripping down your chin and into your shirt, onto your tits, however you didn't care one bit. instead, you took your hands off from chris's thighs and pulled the top of your tank down, causing your plump tits to pop from your shirt as you continued to suck chris off.

"yeah you do it so fucking well baby, jesus," he shoves you down profusely, your gags and tears constant as you look up at him, pleading for a break. he, of course, ignores you.

you moan against him, sending vibrations down his cock, eliciting yet another moan from him. "oh goddamnit baby. oh shit im finna fucking cum."

his motions sped up and got more intense, the hand in your hair pushing you down so hard that it was starting to hurt your nose, but at the same time, you loved it.

chris moans one last time, throwing his head back as his hot, white cum shoots down your throat, you immediately swallowing it all. chris looks down at you, satisfied. you stare  back up at him, sticking your tongue out just to show him how you drank up all of his cum.

he smirks, "such a fucking cumslut for me, hm? yeah, bend over for me, baby. you're gonna fucking feel this shit."

you do just as he says, bending yourself over the counter. you soon feel a cold hand press against your back, arching your fat ass up even more. 

"so fucking beautiful," you hear chris mutter, as he slaps his dick against your pussy before lining himself up. "such a shame your such a goddamn brat," he states, violently shoving his huge cock up your dripping wet pussy. 

your eyes roll back, loving his huge size. almost instantly, you begin to moan unstoppably. you were drunk on his dick so fast it was almost insane.

"shit," he groans, slapping your ass harshly, "you fucking love my cock, don't you, bitch?" he grits, pounding into you harder.

you moan loudly, "oh fuck! yes, god daddy i love it so much." you feel his tip brush against your cervix, his hard thrusts doing things to you.

"how do you feel, hm? you're such a fucking little slut, moaning my name so loud when my brothers; your bestfriends are right in my room next door. you must want them to hear me fucking you, huh? you want them to see what a slutty bitch you are for me," he spanks you once again.

you did, in fact, love it, to say the least. the feeling of him filling you up was probably one of the best feelings you've had. and the way he slapped your ass was something you could dream of. the sting that went through you hurt so good. all you wanted was more.

chris's thrusts got harsher, your insides surely bruised at this point. "god, you take me so fucking good, baby. you love being split open on me, yeah? you're so cockdrunk, its pathetic," he spits, placing a hand on your stomach just to feel the bulge of him inside you. "feel that, love? feel how deep in your stomach i am?"

you moan the loudest you have all night, his intense dirty talking getting you so good. "oh god, daddy i love your cock so much; fuck it feels amazing."

he smirks behind you, "yeah, i know it does- shit!" he moans, "im close, baby."

you whimper as chris slaps your ass once more, leaving a bright red handprint, "me too, oh my!"

his hands move from your hair and back to your hips, giving him a better grip to pound you as hard as he has all night, lifting screams from the back of your throat.

"you gon' let me cum inside you, slut? let me feel you up with my fucking kids, yeah?"

you moan, "yes, chris! oh shit im cumming! fuck!" you shout, letting yourself go all over him as he did the same inside you. he thrusts a few more times, fucking his cum into you.

he pulls out, leaning against the counter next to you, the two of you panting heavily. 

while you're still left collecting yourself, chris is already almost finished getting dressed. he opens the door, leaving you there; all fucked out with his cum dripping down your legs. he looks you up and down with a smirk, meeting your eyes again before saying, "maybe think about it next time before you act like a little brat all day."  with that, you hear him greet his brothers once more as you still sit there in disbelief. how could he get you so good, then just… leave?. but damn, that shit felt good.

[pearlymel]

I don’t know if your request are open rn but I was wondering if you can do Boothill, Gallagher, and Argenti, and Aventurine with an Actor reader, considered the silver screen queen of Penacony and The Robin of “Film”.

If you need inspo, I was thinking the vibe and style of Judy Garland, Audrey Hepburn, and Marilyn Monroe. (No pressed)

Synopsis : you're the famous person they fell in love with.

Includes : Boothill, Argenti, Aventurine, and Gallagher.

Notes : afab!reader, no pronouns except being called "princess" in Aventurine's. Sfw, All fluff. My dear anon i hope this was what you requested (from what i understood.) Ty for the request, it was pretty creative. Quick reminder that my requests are closed for now!! This is just old requests im trying to finish. feel free to send in your thoughts or thirsts instead. ♡

↳ AVENTURINE.

You were in the acting industry, a known star across penacony that everyone would scream to have a picture with.

Fairly, you don't even know how you ended up with this gambler. Despite you having the money, he still spoils you rotten.

Aventurine is not surprised (or he acts to) that he managed to bag you with his charmness, even though internally he was just one of your die hard fans at heart.

To this day, he's still confused how you returned back his feelings.

Like many other times, Aventurine leads you out of a shopping mall. He’s carrying some bags, and he always makes sure to pick out the heaviest ones to show off how strong he was. He always liked to make a show of his wealth, especially with you.

“You bought so many things today,” he grins. “What’s the matter? Is your current wardrobe that empty?”

"Just things for my family, and you, of course." You grin back.

You didn't expect Aventurine to spoil you at some yacht this time, he puts an arm around you and guides you forwards. All formal butler's at your service, bowing down elegantly just right outside of it. It’s expensive—he wouldn’t dare to spend money on anything less perfect, after all.

He makes a habit of keeping his hand close to the small of your back. He likes to feel the warmth of your body, the way your clothes feel against his touch. He hums lowly from beside you. “I have a surprise for you,” he comments, his tone low and teasing.

"You're full of surprises today."

“Only the best for a diva like you,” he responds back. He can’t help the smirk on his face as he leads you towards the yacht. He’s certainly proud, because he knows how perfect it is. Every part of the exterior is luxurious to suit your taste.

Aventurine climbs on it and holds a hand out for you. “Careful while you board. You don’t want to trip and ruin your pretty face, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes playfully, taking his hand in a firm grip, "Oh don't be dramatic."

He guides you up the small set of steps and grins, his thumb running over your knuckles.

Aventurine leads you further into the cabin. It’s clean and spacious, a large bed on one side. There’s a door leading to a bathroom, and a large screen on one wall.

He sets the bags down and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the empty side of the bed while giving you a smile. “Come here, princess.”

You laugh, dashing towards him and jumping right on him, pushing both of you down on the bed and he grunts dramatically, but laughs along with you. His hands move to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He adjusts himself so he’s laying on the bed with you on top of him, and his eyes soften.

"I'm happy," you start, "It's not about this, how thankful i am to be experiencing this. But i love spending every moment with you, the good and bad."

Oh, stop giving him that expression. He's going to melt and giggle like a highschooler.

“And I love spoiling you,” he answers. “I love making you feel loved and appreciated because it’s what you deserve. Especially after dealing with me, princess.” he finishes it off softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek.

"Sooo, you rented this yacht just for both of us to enjoy the view and eat good food?"

"Do you like it? Y'know what, scratch that. I'll buy the yacht if you love it. So we can come back here everytime."

↳ ARGENTI.

To you, You were just a normal dancer, following your love and passion for this field.

To Argenti, you were the most elegant, and beautiful human to ever have the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

He has been admiring you, at a distance, for a while. So when this gentleman approached you on his knee with a rose on his hand, you were pretty shocked and flustered.

"I apologise if I startled you," Argenti gently spoke as he offered the rose, his voice smooth and warm like velvet, his redish-green eyes locking onto yours. "But your beauty caught my eye while you were dancing. It is not often that I am rendered speechless, but your grace in every movement bewitched me."

You take the single rose from his hand with a wide smile, your thumb and forefinger toying with the stem and rolling it as you lift it and near it to your lips and nose to inhale it's fragrance.

"I love it," you whisper in awe.

Argenti's heart melted further as he observed your smile and the way you brought the flower up to your face. It was like a vision straight out of a dream for him, and it fuelled the desire within his heart even more.

"It brings me joy to see you like this," the knight replied, "Might I have the honour of knowing your name?"

And you utter your name out, the words leaving your tongue like it was made of silk.

A name as beautiful as the one bearing it, he thought to himself. "A name that reflects your grace and elegance," he responded, "As for myself, I am called Argenti. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"You may stand up, dear Argenti."

Argenti's heart fluttered at your endearing address towards him, and he immediately obliged to your request. He rose to stand up, his stature proud and imposing.

"As you command, my dear" he voiced, his gaze remaining on you. He made a subtle, respectful bow.

That day, you agreed to go on this little date with him, courting you was his next goal.

The sun finally settled beneath the horizon, casting the world into the soft, silver-tinted embrace of night. A gentle breeze gently ruffled his hair, the faint scent of the rose you held earlier wafting around.

"It appears our meeting is coming to an end, isn't it?" Argenti mused as he silently studied your delicate features, silently committing the image to memory. "Thank you for taking me out today, Argenti."

"It is my pleasure to have spent this time with you." He whispered back, ending it with a murmur of your name.

"This evening has been a moment of clarity for me. May I have the privilege of seeing you again sometime in the future?"

↳ GALLAGHER.

Gallagher was secretly your lover, despite his status as a bodyguard to you; the famous popstar singer.

You chuckle to yourself when you watch how he talked off some unwanted guests prying at your personal business, which was just drinking at some small coffee shop.

Gallagher sensed your amusement, catching your smile in his peripheral vision. He took a step closer to you, his hand resting discreetly on the small of your back. "Something funny, pretty?" He spoke first, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"Just the scene of you handling the situation is amusing." You say before taking a long sip from your drink. He gave a subtle scoff, his lips forming a wry half-smile. He knew that he probably looked like a protective dog, "just doing my job," he replied in a lax tone.

"Because you're my bodyguard or because you're jealous?"

"Both," he muttered, his eyes flickering over the place, still scanning for potential threats. "I'm your bodyguard, so it's my job to keep others from getting too close. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little...jealous."

You pat his shoulder, looking around before resting your chin on his shoulder, "I'm all yours, nothing to be jealous of." you whisper into his ear.

Gallagher's firm expression softened even further at your reassurance. Your words reassured him deeply, erasing any traces of jealousy from his features.

"You're damn right about that," his hand moving from your back to subtly wrap around your waist, as he drew your seat a little closer. "You're all mine, no one else's."

"And if they start being suspicious of our relationship?"

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his expression growing a bit more serious as he considered your question. "They can speculate all they want," he shrugged, his eyes flickering over the quiet area before returning to you. "S’not like we're doing anything wrong. I'm your bodyguard, but I can't help how I feel about you. There's no harm in a little...physical closeness. No one's going to catch on as long as we keep it subtle."

And it was your turn for you to turn all soft, "you know.. i wouldn't care if they find out. I'll gladly show you off to the world."

↳ BOOTHILL.

"My love, this is too much."

"Too much? Nah."

But Boothill's demeanor changes as he senses your guilt, your guilt of recieving loads of expensive clothes and gifts just for you. His strong hands gently grip your shoulders, his gaze fixed on you. He hated whenever you tried to protest or object to his generous gestures.

Leaning in a little closer, he adds in a soft voice, "It's not too much if it's for you, darlin'. You deserve everythin' that money can buy. So don't you dare feel bad, alright?"

Everything he brought to you was to your taste, as a fashion designer. How did he even manage to get these majestic attires for you?

"It's my turn to spoil you, i will make sure to look pretty for you." You promise, and his heart skips a beat at your promise to make yourself look beautiful for him. He gives a low chuckle, "Darlin', you're already the most radiant sight a fella like me could ever want." He steps a little closer, his eyes roaming over you for a moment, taking in the sight of you.

"But I'll still be lookin' forward to seein' you all dolled up," he adds with a sly smile.

And you do, entering the bathroom to change then coming out and giving him a private show of you modelling the clothes he got you.

He lets out a low whistle, a smirk on his face as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes roam over your form, appreciating the curves and the elegance you exude.

Boothill's jaw practically hits the floor.

"My sweet darlin', you look like a vision straight from my wildest dreams."

"Mhmm, and you're the chosen man."

"And I've never been more grateful for that title in my life, darlin'. You look like a piece of heaven right here in my arms."

You roll your eyes at his words, your hands on his shoulders as you look down at his seating figure, "You're exaggerating."

Boothill lets out a hearty laugh, enjoying the banter between you. He playfully pulls you even closer, his hands roaming unabashedly over the curves of your body.

"Exaggerating? Sweetheart, I may have a flair for the dramatic, but in this case, I speak nothin' but the truth." His eyes roam over you once again, "You could be wearin' a potato sack, and you'd still be the most beautiful sight to my eyes."

You narrow your eyes at the idea, "i will wear that potato sack next time."

He grins, "and I'd still be achin' to get up close and personal, darlin'." he says, his voice low and sultry.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Spider-verse with a S/O that gets hurt often? Idk it this should be put as clumsy but really up to you. Thanks!

(Hello! Sure I can do here ya go!)

Taglist

Reader Who Gets Hurt a Lot

Miles Morales

Obviously he's worried about you

He's telling you over and over again to be careful

Most likely it is because you're clumsy

So he's watching you out of the corner of his eye almost everyday

See you trip over something?

He may shoot a web at you and pull you back up so you don't fall

But the times he doesn't get you and you do get hurt, he sighs and walks over to help you

He's always glad to help patch you up though

Just don't do anything dramatic like go up a tall building

He may actually have a heart attack

A stressed mother vibes

Earth 42!Miles Morales

He's scolding you more than the others

It's because he loves you and he's worried you may actually get hurt really bad one day

He doesn't want it to get to the point of you needing like, really bad medical attention

You've been to the hospital a few times due to like a broken finger or something similar

He was there those times when they happened and he can feel his heart drop

He may be a little like, annoyed, but more at your clumsiness but he's not blaming you

Sorta like

"Just be more careful, ma. You're gonna get hurt even worse if this keeps happening."

He's just worried and wants to make sure you're alright

Stop scaring him, man!

Gwen Stacy

Gwen may laugh under her breath

It's a reflex and she will help you though

Obviously, she's worried but she's more chill about it

Will help you up and bring you to help clean and bandage up your shit

Unless you are one to harm yourself to the point you need medical

Then she flips out and panics

She's worried, she loves you and wants you in good health

She sometimes can't focus on her health due to being Spider-Woman

So she does her absolute best to make sure you're okay

Will poke fun at you

Tease you and shit but it's from a good place

Will pat your newly acquired injury, kiss your cheek and be on y'all's way

Hobie Brown

He's worried but he hides it

He teases you about your clumsiness, especially if you get hurt because you're tripping and falling down all the time

"Falling for me now, are you?"

Sorta shit like that as he helps clean and bandage your wound

He actually likes helping take care of you

It gives him the feeling of something normal in your guys' lives

Even if it's because you accidentally hurt yourself

He's watching you every few glances and normally saves you from getting hurt

Has either w hand on your waist, holding your hand and it's to keep you up

Will pick you up when you fall

He's more calm, hides his worry and teases you a bit

It's from love though

Pavitr Prabhakar

You're both always getting hurt

You both spend so much time patching each other up

Someone when he tries to help you get up or help you when you get hurt, he gets the same exact injury

You guys match wounds and hospital trips a lot

It's something that now bonds you guys together

So much bandaids, so much disinfectant and so much time spent patching each other up

But he loves those moments oddly also

Especially if he has like scraps on his face and your holding his face and patching him up

He gets to do the same for you and you guys just love it

Obviously he's nervous about you getting seriously injured

But he's usually around to stop it

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Secrets ♡

♡ Pairing: sugar daddy!yeosang x chubby!fem!sugar baby!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: It's your anniversary and everything's going wonderfully with the man of your dreams until you're forced to spill a secret you've been hiding for a long time. You've always wanted a family with him but never pushed the issue, knowing it's something he wouldn't be interested. But you might just be surprised what he's willing to do and how eager he is to do it.

♡ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♡ Warning: discussions of pregnancy/motherhood, breeding kink, nipple play, unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, yeosang has some dom vibes at time, spanking, pet names (mommy/daddy/baby), hair pulling, creampie, and that's about all.

♡ A/N: I wrote this as a request for @rems-writing who I adore to pieces. I really hope that I did justice to your request, my love. It was really fun to write and is only worsening the fact that Yeosang is wrecking me these days so thank you for that.

In the beginning things were different. Yeosang was your sugar daddy. He was there to spoil you beyond your wildest dreams, giving you everything your heart desired. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. In return he got you, however and whenever he wished to have you. But overtime, as all things do, the situation grew more complicated than either of you planned.

One day you woke up to find that you weren’t reaching for your phone to call him about the newest pair of shoes you had your eye on, you just needed to hear the sound of his voice. And Yeosang found himself caring less and less if seeing you led to anything sexual. He was more than happy to simply have you in his arms.

You both had, against all of your better judgment, fallen completely in love with each other. It’s been 3 years since you both broke down and admitted this was far deeper than something transactional. 3 years down to the day that you decided to truly be together and neither of you have regretted it for a moment. 

Staring lovingly at your gorgeous side profile as the two of you navigate your way through the crowded lantern festival, Yeosang can’t imagine ever regretting being with a girl like you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. With your hand securely held in his, he feels like he’s got the very center of his universe in the palm of his hands. That’s why he did everything in his power to make this anniversary special for you.

There was the breakfast in bed that he spent all morning whipping up himself. The shopping spree that almost cleaned out your favorite store. A four course meal at a lavish restaurant overlooking the water. And now a starlit walk through a breathtaking lantern festival where gorgeous neon sculptures illuminate the night. You stare at them in awe the same way you have every single thing he’s placed in front of you today. You’re sincerely happy and that’s the only thing he wants in this world. 

“Yeo, look at that! Isn’t it beautiful?” you beam, dragging him over to a tree sprinkled with dozens of fluorescent cherry blossoms. They twinkle overhead, bathing you in a soft pink light that makes you glow. You’re so ethereal in his eyes that he doesn’t even care that you nearly yanked his arm off to get him over here. 

“Yes, it’s beautiful, baby,” he laughs, his voice soft and deep. You’re the cutest when you get like this over things and he can’t help but be tickled when that childlike excitement comes out. 

“And what’s so funny?” you frown, your nose wrinkling adorably. 

Despite a half hearted attempt at holding it in, your bratty nature only makes him laugh harder. “You’re just so cute. I can’t help it” he says, pulling you into his arms and attacking your cheek with the sweetest of kisses. 

“Kang Yeosang, you’re being a very bad boy right now” you giggle, spinning around and straight into a kiss on the lips that has you blushing so hard your cheeks are heating up. 

He leans into your neck, lips tickling their way up to your ear. “I can be much worse,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Feeling your mind stray to places a little too obscene for public, you pull away from Yeosang and find a tiny human staring up at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Mommy!” a girl no older than 4 or 5 cries, tugging on your dress. She’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen with her teddy bear and her pigtails. It breaks your heart to see her crying. 

“Hey, honey. Did you lose your mommy?” you ask, kneeling down to comfort her. Now face to face with you, she realizes that you aren’t her mommy and throws an even bigger fit. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetie” you coo, patting her on the shoulders. She throws herself into your arms and you automatically wrap your arms around her, letting her know that she’s safe with you. Your gaze darts to a panicked Yeosang for help. You know kids aren’t really his thing but you could use the assist right now. 

Yeosang peeks at her over your shoulder and smiles in a goofy way that gets a giggle out of her. “Everything will be okay, sweetie” he reassures her, “We’ll find your, mommy.” Patting her on the head, he takes off into the crowd in search of her mom or a worker who can help. 

“That’s Yeosang, he’s a great finder” you say, balancing her on your hip like a pro. “I like your dress by the way” you throw in, noticing that you’re both wearing the same light green sundress only her version is much tinier and much more adorable. You figure this must be how she got you confused with her mom. You had no idea this dress was so popular when you brought it. 

Fascinated by the discovery, she begins to play with the fabric of your dress, her curiosity shifting to the shiny silver earrings dangling from your ears. They’re one of the many gifts that Yeosang surprised you with for your anniversary. As she marvels at the way they sparkle, the giggles overflow from her and your heart flutters. 

It’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to Yeosang but you’ve often wondered what it might be like to walk around a park like this. Yeosang by your side and a little one bouncing on your hip, giggling her life away. You’d love this more than anything that comes with a price tag but it’s a dream that you gave up long ago.

Yeosang made it clear from various throwaway comments he’s made over the past 3 years that kids aren’t in the cards for him. And, no matter how much it pains you, you have to accept it. Instead, you keep your dreams to yourself and cherish precious moments like this where you get a taste of motherhood, however faint. It’s bittersweet but sweet nonetheless. 

“Pretty” the little girl says, fidgeting with one of your earrings. 

“You like them?” you ask, smiling gently, “They were a gift from—”

“Sophia!” a woman yells, racing over to you with Yeosang not too far behind. Your suspicions were correct. She’s wearing the exact same dress as you with the added accessory of a few tears. 

“See. I told you he was a good finder” you whisper, handing her over to her relieved mother. 

“Honey, I was so worried,” the mother pants, struggling to catch her breath as she squeezes her daughter tightly. 

Yeosang returns to your side, placing a hand on your waist and giving you a look of admiration you’re too distracted to notice but it’s there. 

“Thank you so much for looking out for her” the mother says, laughing when she notices her daughter still holding onto your dress, “I think she likes you.”

Your face lights up at the adorable gesture and you pinch Sophia’s cheek playfully. “I like her too. You be good now, Sophia.”

“Bye!” Sophia waves, finally letting go of your dress. Her eyes are still glued to you as her mom mouths another silent “Thank you” and the two head off back to where they came from. 

You linger there for a moment, swirling in thoughts of what motherhood might be like. You’ve pushed it to the back of your mind for so long that you’d forgotten how deeply you yearned for it. It’s enough to keep you lost in thought until Yeosang takes your hand, snapping you out of it. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, knowing perfectly well that it isn't. You can’t hide your feelings from him, even if you think you can. When something’s upsetting you he can feel it. He knows your heart’s breaking. 

“It’s…it’s nothing” you say, setting your sights on another sculpture a good distance away. “Why don’t we go check that out?” You tug at his arm but this time he doesn’t let you drag him an inch. 

“Something’s wrong. Talk to me” he pleads, his face as serious as you’ve ever seen it. Yeosang’s typically playful and gentle with you, seldom showing his stubborn side but it’s out tonight and you know that arguing with him is a lost cause. 

You sigh, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact, “I can’t really talk about it here.”

“Then let’s go back to the car. We can talk there, okay?” He isn’t asking as much as he is telling you what’s about to happen.

It’s his turn to drag you along as he maneuvers you through crowds of families and lovey dovey couples to get to the car. All the while your stomach’s doing backflips at the thought of telling Yeosang the truth. You promised long ago that you’d always tell each other the truth, no matter how afraid you were, and you’d deal with the rest together. It’s a promise that you’ve never broken, not even for the smallest thing, but tonight lying seems more appealing than ever.

By the time you make it into the car your mind’s already been made up that he’ll leave you for this. Your 3rd anniversary will be your last one all because you couldn’t get over one silly thing. 

“So,” Yeosang says, the silence dancing between you becoming almost unbearable, “Are you gonna tell me what happened back there?”

He watches you with the kindest eyes and your heart breaks even more. This may be the last time he looks at you like that. You take a deep breath, soaking it in, your heart still toying with the idea of lying. 

“I want to be a mother” you blurt out, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

It’s simultaneously terrifying and relieving to have that off of your chest after holding it in like a sneeze for the past 3 years. “I know you don’t want kids and I’m okay with that, I really am. It’s just that when I’m around kids like that, sometimes I…I don’t know.” You begin to tear up and Yeosang places a comforting hand on your leg. 

“Who said I didn’t want kids?” he asks so softly you almost think that you imagined it. 

“Uhm, you?” you sniffle, your bottom lip quivering. “You said that all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess of everything.”

Yeosang pulls his sleeve down, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Baby, I didn’t mean it that way. Well, I did mean that but not in that way. Yeah, all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want a family with you.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. If it’s not what you want it’s not what you want.”

“Look at me” he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I would love a family with you. Not because you cried but because that’s what I want. I just downplayed it because I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Oh my gosh, do I want it?” you say, perking up at the mere thought of it. “Tiny versions of us running around the house would be the best thing ever. Imagine going shopping for their little clothes and the family vacations. It’d be so cute. You’d make such a good dad, Yeo.”

There it is again. That childlike wonder that always brings a smile to his face. “And you’d make a wonderful mom. I only wish you would’ve told me sooner. I want a life with you and everything that comes along with it. Promise me you’ll never doubt that again.”

Yeosang extends his pinky to trap you into the legally binding pinky swear. You hook your pinky into his, rolling your eyes at how silly he can be. “I promise.”

“Good. Now here,” he says, handing you the aux cord, “Talk about it more when we get home?” 

You nod, skeptically taking the cord. It’s not his willingness to hand over control of the music to you that has you skeptical. Let’s be real, you always control the music anyway. What throws you off is how laid back he’s acting when he knows that you can read him as well as he reads you.

The entire ride home there’s the ghost of a smile on his face, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, as he nods along to your music like the conversation never happened. But the wheels are turning in his head, he’s thinking about something and not knowing exactly what is eating you up inside. 

Did he really mean what he said? Is a family really what he wants or was he just trying to please you? You once again recall your pact not to lie. It goes both ways and you have to trust him to stick to it. Still, as you pull into the driveway and he leads you up the stairs of your shared home, you feel in your gut that there’s more to it than he’s leading on. 

“Is now a good time?” he asks once you’ve made it safely into the dimly lit living room. 

You turn around, eyeing him curiously, “Is now a good time for what?” 

Yeosang steps towards you, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. “You said you wanted to start a family” he says, his eyes scanning over how well that dress fits your curves, “So tell me, is now a good time to start?”

“Yeosa—” you’re saying but your words are cut off by his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you passionately, his hands hungrily massaging your figure through your dress. Your head spinning from the kiss, you stumble backwards, finding yourself pinned between your boyfriend and the wall. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this” he confesses, hands slipping under your dress to massage your plush ass. “To just fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”

His words set your body on fire, every fantasy you’ve had about this very moment flooding your brain. “Please, I want you to fill me up so badly. I need it” you beg, palming a bugle that only tightens with your desperate pleas.

“Fuck, baby” he groans, drowning you in another kiss. Locking his arms around your waist, he sweeps you up and takes you to the couch where you take control, straddling him as you grind down against his clothed cock. 

The heat between your bodies is as intense as the heat between your thighs, your pussy growing wetter by the second. Yeosang trails kisses down your neck, gripping your thighs to spread your legs wider. Your stiff clit bumps the strained zipper of his pants and you let out a moan pretty enough to taste.

“Fuck me” you whine, hips rocking, desperate for more friction. 

“Already?” he teases, dipping two fingers between your legs to stroke your leaking slit. Your panties are so drenched the cotton feels like velvet. So smooth and so saturated with your juices that his fingers just slide across them. 

“I want to know how wet you are first” he says, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Show me.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull yourself off of him but you manage, standing up and turning around so that your ass is poking right in his face. Yeosang tears your dress up, kissing one of your ass cheeks while his free hand slaps the other. The sting makes you jump but the kisses are heavenly. A delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Bend over” he whispers, tugging your panties down as you bend over in front of him and spread your legs apart for him.

A sudden shyness overcomes you when you realize how exposed you are. At the same time your nipples stiffen against your bra knowing how hard he must be getting watching your cunt drip for him the way it does. 

His fingers meet your slit again and he hums in satisfaction, collecting your arousal on his fingertips. He pops them inside of you and you cry out, pressing your thighs together to feel them even better. 

“You’re clenching so tightly around my fingers, baby. You need to be bred that badly?” 

“Mmhmm” you gasp, fighting to stay upright as he spreads his fingers, scissoring in and out of your core. Your thighs are getting wetter and wetter,  your juices leaking between them the faster his fingers fuck into you.

Yeosang runs his tongue along your thighs, licking up the arousal that leaks out from around his fingers. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do. Use your words.”

“I want to have your babies. I want you to breed me” you moan like a melody and you’re snatched right back down into his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you before your brain has time to register it. 

Bringing your back flush against his defined chest, he thrusts into you with enough force for you to see stars. He’s feral, determined to ravage you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve had sex with him hundreds, if not thousands of times, up to this point but this time is so different. It’s the first time you’ve felt him raw inside of you and it’s pleasure beyond anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

You feel everything. The head pulsing and leaking each time he bottoms out. The blood rushing through the veins that travel along his length, twitching when  you clench, swallowing him deeper. Behind you Yeosang’s losing his mind at how perfect your bare pussy feels wrapped around him. He can feel all of the ridges, feel how slippery wet your walls are while he fucks you. It’s almost too much to handle. 

Smoothing his hands up your sides, a hand finds its way to one of your breasts, pinching the bud through your dress. He rolls it between his fingers, the pressure just enough to keep your senses on edge. His other hand finds its way between your legs, working your clit in small circles.

It’s sensory overload being played with in so many ways. Your core being fucked in perfect rhythm, your sensitive nipples twisting between his fingers, and your puffy clit being overstimulated. It’s like you’re falling apart right here in his arms and he loves it. Every single minute of it. You milk his cock so well when you’re like this, his whining, drooling, teary eyed girl. 

“C…cum first. You” you stutter, throwing your head back. Your fingers find his hair again and you pull it harder this time, arching your back and fluttering your walls. “Fill me up, Yeosang.” 

You’re so cute when you’re needy, too cute to deny. Truth is, he’s been holding back. He wanted to cum the second his cock felt what you were like without a condom. All this time the pressure’s been building and holding it back has been unbearable. His heart set on giving you what you want, as always, he slides down further on the couch, hitting your sweet spot as he fucks into you harder. 

“You’re so pretty you know that?” he growls, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re gonna make such a pretty mommy, aren’t you?”

You tug at his hair, swirling your hips in his lap, “Yes, daddy.”

Your words are like magic. One final twitch of his cock and he’s spilling inside of you so hard that you can feel him painting your walls. You wanted to be full and you are. So full of his seed that it’s dripping from your pussy, leaking all over him. The fullness sends you crashing towards your high, your walls gripping him tighter than ever as you both shiver in each other’s arms. 

“Oh god, don’t stop” you moan, greedy for more of his cum. Lucky for you it’s still flowing and your pussy devours it, taking every drop until you’re both spent. Cradling you in his arms, Yeosang brushes your hair back out of your face and kisses your cheek, lulling you down from your high. 

“You know I meant that” he says, breathlessly.

“Meant what?” you ask, stroking the muscular arms responsible for keeping you upright. 

“You’ll make a great mom. I can’t wait to see it” he smiles, planting another kiss on your cheek. “We just gotta keep working on it. Ready to go again?”

“Sir, you’re insatiable! I need to get away from you!” you giggle, clumsily pulling away from him and hobbling towards the stairs. 

Yeosang chases after you, scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face, “Well how else are babies made, honey?” 

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟛𝟘 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 30: Double Penetration, Hotdogging, Gape/Fisting

𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝

| PAIRING(s):  Joel Miller x f!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT:  1.8k | CONTENT: crude language especially concerning body parts, fisting, Joel has a filthy mouth as always, established relationship vibes | SYNOPSIS: Joel confesses his secret fantasy to you, and you do your best to make it come true.

You’d laughed in his face the first time he brought it up, but then you felt bad when his expression soured in embarrassment. It wasn’t like you weren’t up for trying new things, but fisting? With the size of Joel Miller’s hands? Your pussy almost turned in on itself at the thought. He’d been open enough to admit the secret little desire he’d never had the nerve to admit or try with anyone, and then you’d laughed in disbelief at the thought of it.

One thorough apology blowjob later and he was right as rain. Still, you wanted to show him that it had just been a bad, kneejerk reaction and that he really could trust you with his deepest, darkest desires. He shot you an understanding grin when you told him your hesitations about it, namely being ripped open like a damn sock puppet. You’d make him promise that no matter how much this wrecked your vagina that he was going to stick with you.

It was his turn to laugh in your face, a similar encounter with something considered preposterous to the listener, but he reigned himself in and assured you that it wouldn’t leave you like an old tube sock. He promised he’d read about it and would take as much time and patience and dedication needed to make sure you were comfortable every step of the way. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, too, even if it was his secret little fantasy.

When it finally came time that you’d worked up the nerve, you made him swear three times over that he would love you even if you ended up with a windsock pussy. That first attempt was unsuccessful because all you could see in your head was a monster truck wheel circumference opening that would require multiple stitches to repair. Attempts two through four improved slightly each time, but still no success.

The fifth time that you’d tried to take the entirety of his fist, and you were quickly losing hope that you could finally relax enough this time to get it all the way in. When his knuckles met the same resistance they had the past four times, he pulled back and switched to four fingers clustered together. Despite his insistence that you were doing so well and doing such a good job for him, you felt deflated that you weren’t going to be able to relax enough to give Joel the one secret wish he’d never trusted anyone else with.

“I can’t do it, Joel,” you whine. You try to keep the edge of self-pity out of your voice, but it’s not much use.

“You just gotta relax, baby.”

“I’m trying,” you grit out, mostly in frustration with yourself.

“Alright. Change of tactic,” he announces as he pulls his hand from you completely.

“What? What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that you need to focus on somethin’ that’s gonna help you relax. You’re so damn focused on tryna take it all that you ain’t actually enjoyin’ it, and that sorta defeats the purpose.”

“I am enjoying it,” you pout. It’s partially true. You actually do love watching Joel get so worked up whenever you manage to take just a little bit more. It’s been the main thing keeping you going. “I just don’t know what else you expect me to focus on.”

He tilts his head in thought for a moment, and then – “What about somethin’ that turns you on? A little secret fantasy or somethin’.”

You snort and shake your head. “I don’t think there’s anything I haven’t done with you. Well, other than this.”

“Yeah, but what about somethin’ that pops into your head when you’re all alone touchin’ yourself? Somethin’ that makes you come just from thinkin’ about it?”

You roll your eyes at this probing, as if there was some mysterious kink you hadn’t revealed. Sensing your reluctance, Joel prods again. “Humor me.”

So, you give it an honest shot. You think about the rare times when Joel was out of town or out late or whatever it might be that was keeping his cock from being lodged deep inside of you. You chase down the memories of what had made your toes curl and your vision go flat. “Oh.”

Joel jumps on the change in your voice immediately. “Yeah?”

“No, it’s– like, it’s not even a thing,” you say in a put-on casual, dismissive tone. Joel doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Yeahhhhh, you got somethin’ nasty? You gonna tell me what sorta nasty shit you think about when I’m not around?”

You groan and cover your face. It was bad enough that he’d caught onto your obvious recollection of something that had indeed got you worked up easily, but now you weren’t sure how to explain that it really wasn’t anything. It had barely been a passing thought. You hadn’t even entertained it past the times that it had intruded its way into your alone time because it would never be rooted in reality. Maybe the fantasy of it is what had made it so effective at making you climax.

“C’mon, baby. I promise I won’t say anythin’ smart about it.”

You tilt your head to look at him and sigh. “It’s not even some big fantasy or something. I just, I dunno– it just popped into my head. Sometimes. A few times.”

His eager grin spells trouble, but you know there’s no way you’re getting out of this one. “Yeah?” He scoots closer and dips his head to place a trail of soft kisses against your inner thigh. “You gonna let me in on the secret? ‘Cause I’m already gettin’ hard again just thinkin’ about you imagining somethin’ all nasty.”

You laugh under your breath and roll your eyes. “Okay, I bet you won’t be saying that once I tell you what it is.”

“Try me.” He grins like a cat and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, pressing his lips against your tender sex and drinking in the breathy sigh you let out.

“It’s – I imagined you—”

“—naturally,” he interrupts with an indulgent smirk.

“Shut up,” you snort.” I was imagining you, and– you were— what it might be like if you were with a guy or something.”

He pauses for a moment, eyebrows shooting up, and grins even wider. “Oh?”

You bite your lip and nod. You’re hoping he just fills in the blanks and doesn’t ask you for specifics.

“And what was I doin’ to him?” he purrs, joining in immediately on your confession.

You shoot him a shy smile.

“Oh. He was doin’ somethin’ to me?”

You nod again and force yourself to not look away in embarrassment. This man had just been attempting to shove his entire fist into your pussy, and your brain still had the nerve to be shy about a little sexual whim you’ve had.

“Mmmm, tell me all about what he was doin’ to me.”

So, you do. How this imaginary man ate Joel out from the back before fucking him from behind. Other times Joel was fucking you while the imaginary man fucked him.

Joel listens with marked amusement, seemingly thrilled that your fantasies involve him in such great detail. He slowly adds more fingers as you talk, and you find that sharing all this does seem to help you loosen up a little.

“I got a nice little addition to that whole thing.”

“Oh?” you wonder.

Joel nods and squirts more lube onto his fingers before stacking four of them and pushing inside. “I think I fuck that tight little ass of yours while he stuffs your pussy.”

“Oh.”

You can see it in your mind’s eye, clear as day. Sandwiched between two men fucking you into a blabbering mess. Joel grins wider.

“Yeah? Maybe we take turns and use your little fuckholes however we want,” he goads.

You make a squeaky little moan at the mental image, and this only spurs him on.

“Or maybe you think about both of us usin’ that hole at the same time, huh?”

“Oh fuck–oh my fu—”

You grab at your breasts, massaging the globes of them and toying with your nipples. The steady plunge of his fingers never stops, now up to the knuckle. He folds his thumb into the pinch of his fingers and continues.

“Yeah, you wanna get your hole stuffed with two cocks, baby? That what you been dreamin’ about? Gettin’ that little pussy all stretched out on two fat cocks?”

“Yeah,” you whine. “Fuck, that sounds so—oh my god—”

The burning push of his hand presses further and further, inside of you, but you lock onto the filth spilling from his mouth. 

“Got me workin’ you up to it, huh?” he rasps, his voice sounding a little bit wrecked now. “Gonna take my fist so we know you can take two fat cocks into this tight hole?”

You aren’t sure which happens first – your orgasm or his fist finally pushing all the way inside you – but they work in tandem to turn your brain to absolute mush.

“Oooohhh fuck yeah,” Joel groans. He gently pumps his fist inside you as your walls clamp down onto the rough shape of him.

Lewd sounds tear from your throat as he works his fist inside you and thumb firmly on your clit in tight circles.

“Goddamn she’s just suckin’ it in, baby. She’s takin’ the whole thing – beggin’ for it, honey,” he rambles.

You whimper and writhe until it’s all too much, and you quickly tap on his hand to signal you’re at your limit. He understands your silent plea and slowly pulls his fist out of your gaped opening. He spreads you open for inspection and moans at the sight. He douses your spent hole with more lube before spreading it all over his cock and bottoming out in one motion.

You cry out at the welcomed smoothness of his cock as he fucks into you, almost frantic with need. He murmurs into your ear about how warm it feels, how sensitive you are, how hard he can fuck you now that he fisted you open. Your ears are ringing by the time he starts spilling inside you, teeth biting into the curve of your neck and shoulder until he’s emptied.

You lie there, dazed out and fucked out, and let him clean your limp body with a warm rag. He runs you an epsom salt bath for good measure and fusses over you the rest of the night, repeatedly checking in that your little moist coin purse hadn’t been turned into a sideways sloppy joe.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Just a little tender.”

As you spooned later that night, gently drifting off in the cradle of his arms, the last thing you remember is the soft press of his mouth against the crown of your head with murmurings of “my perfect little sockpuppet” breathed between kisses. 

tagging anybody who has engaged with my previous fisting fics or who I feel spiritually aligns with fisting

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