#but i just really wanna say thank you to everyone who is still reading my fics and showing love for my art
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shurisneakers · 2 days ago
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hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️
a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3
this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this
warnings: swearing, light angst
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You slip out before the first toast.
The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.
You don’t belong inside.
The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.
So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.
You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.
You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.
Behind you, the door creaks open.
"You gonna jump?"
You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.
You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."
"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.
You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.
"You left early," he grunts out.
"So did you," you mutter.
"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."
You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."
"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.
"You're the most insufferable man I know."
"Honoured."
You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
"Why are you out here?"
Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"
You know he sees it.
"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"
You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."
"It’s a live band."
"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."
His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.
"Try again."
"No," you say flatly.
He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.
It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.
A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.
You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--
"Dance with me."
You blink. "Are you concussed?"
"Not recently."
You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"
"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."
"Then what?"
He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"
Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.
"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."
You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.
Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.
"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."
"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."
"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.
It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.
He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.
The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.
He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.
It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.
"You're terrible at this," you mutter.
"So are you," he grumbles.
You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."
"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."
You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.
Neither does he.
The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.
"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."
You frown, "What are you plann-"
You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.
It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.
Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.
"Jes—"
"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."
The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.
You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.
Five more minutes.
Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.
You close your eyes. Breathe him in.
And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.
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chrissturnsfav · 8 hours ago
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hello!! Can you write something about rapper Chris and singer reader at the Grammys and one of them wins best album??? Love your work btw <3
⋆.˚✮ singer!reader gets her first grammy
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the energy at the grammys is suffocating—cameras flashing, voices buzzing, celebrities everywhere pretending they aren’t trying to compete with each other. you don't really like events like this, even though they’re part of your life now. it's just so fucking overwhelming, so good thing chris is here.
he’s sat in a manspread beside you, wearing a sleek black suit with a black tie, jaw set like he's bored out of his mind. he taps his thumb on his knee, probably counting beats in his head.
you fidget with the sequins on your pretty mini dress, nerves tightening your chest. "i’m gonna throw up," you mutter under your breath.
chris doesn’t even blink. "nah, you ain’t," he scoffs, lightly nudging your shoulder with a smirk, his voice is calm, gravelly. "you built f'this shit, kid."
you shoot him a look, furrowing your brows with a small smirk. "that supposed to make me feel better?"
he grins, lazy and cocky. "you tell me," he shrugs.
before you can snap back, the presenter’s voice booms through the speakers. your name rings out like some surreal echo.
"and the grammy goes to..."
you freeze. the applause hits you like a wave. it’s loud, disorienting. you've just won the award for best pop song of the year. how the fuck...
your realization is interrupted when chris leans in, close enough for you to hear over the chaos. "get your ass up there."
your legs feel like jelly, but somehow you stand. the walk to the stage is a blur—faces, lights, a hundred thoughts colliding in your brain. you grip the golden statue like it might float away.
"uh," you start, voice shaky, letting out a nervous laugh, "wow. this is... wild."
"well, i didn’t prepare anything ‘cause i really didn’t think i’d be up here, so... bear with me."
there’s a soft ripple of laughter from the crowd, but you barely hear it. your eyes instinctively find chris. he’s still seated, staring at you with that sexy stupid smirk that hits you right in the chest. it’s somewhat of awe, but also pride.
you swallow hard. "i wanna just say thank you to my team, my family, everyone who’s been in my corner through all the highs and lows. i wouldn’t be here without you."
your voice steadies, warmth creeping in. "and to chris..." you pause, lips twitching into a smirk as you chuckle quietly. "thank you for always being so supportive and positive."
his brow quirks, lips curling into that signature half-smile.
"even if you’re annoyingly right most of the time," you add, a little sass creeping in.
the audience laughs. chris shakes his head like you’re ridiculous, but his grin says otherwise.
"thank you so much," you finish simply, heart full and light as you step back from the mic. "couldn't be more thankful, this truly doesn't even feel real."
the applause follows you down the stairs, but all you care about is getting back to your seat. chris is already standing, waiting.
"see? you killed that," he says, voice low and smooth.
"did i?" you tease, still catching your breath.
he leans in close, shades slipping down his nose. "told you, you ain’t built like these other girls."
you roll your eyes, trying to downplay the way your chest tightens. "you’re so fucking cocky," you snicker.
"nah, m'just right," he shrugs, the smirk on his plush lips deepening.
you laugh despite yourself, knowing damn well he’s never gonna let you forget this moment.
his smirk morphs into a soft smile, one of awe and adoration as his eyes soften. he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side and kissing the top of your head. "proud o'you, mama. knew you'd get this shit one day," he mumbles in a soft whisper against your hair.
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thank you for reading!! <3
tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @mattysketchup , @coquettechris , @courta13
@chrissturnsfav ™
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cloverapple · 12 hours ago
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hiii! i came across your blog yesterday, and i love your advice. that's why i feel like you would be the best person to ask these questions that I've been having for the longest time (sorry, long read ahead).
I've studied LOA for the past 2 years or so, and even though i have a good understanding of it, there are some things that always trip me up when it comes to shifting.
how do i deal with waking up to the 3d? yes, by assuming that you are in your dr and that you shifted last night. that's the most logical answer. but even though i know that, sometimes it is a lot easier said than done. for example, a few days ago i wanted to manifest shifting by simply deciding i could shift on command and that i am there. i could be 100% sure the day before that it would happen. the whole day, and even a few days after that I'd stay in that state of being a master shifter, and i would feel amazing because of it. but it's like there always comes a point where i wake up to the 3d and i get discouraged (yes, i acknowledge that i am manifesting that reality by saying this, but i finally have to get this off my chest). my thoughts get all messed up and i start spiraling, returning to my previous state. i start questioning myself a bit and feel down. the main reason for that being time.
it took me so so long to figure out this issue about myself. I'd be like: how long is it gonna take? when will it happen? i know i have it in the 4d but when will it appear in the 3d? having it in the 4d isn't enough, i need to have it in the 3d right now. stuff like that. i find it very difficult to formulate my thoughts, but basically I'm in a spiral of:
watching a video/reading a post about LOA/shifting that reminds me of how easy it is -> applying LOA to shifting/any desire in a way that feels good for a few days at most -> starting to question myself after a few days because it hasn't shown up yet in the 3d (which is caused by me forgetting the role the 3d plays and how LOA works) even though i did everything "right" (e.g. letting go of control or the outcome, deciding, not wavering, etc.) -> falling back into a state where i question how i can shift, what i am doing wrong, etc. -> repeat
how can i break out of this cycle?
i think the main problem here is time and in general the 3d.
i know that the 3d is not a measure of my success, only made up of my current assumptions etc. i know that. but it's like i forget it once i step into the state i wanna be in and stay there for an extended period of time.
i always hear people say that "time isn't real" but i still don't really know what that means, how to apply it or how to internalize it. i really need that mental "click" to finally understand it and use that concept in my favor. because my problem is that with manifesting/shifting, after a while i start asking questions about why it's taking so long the 3d. for example, most nights i fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my dr (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning. but when it doesn't happen eventually, i start to question why, because since time comes from consciousness aka me, it should work in my favor.
I'm honestly so lost right now and i would really appreciate some help because I'm spiraling again. I've known about shifting since 2020 but only realized how ridiculously easy it is after joining tumblr this year and yup, i acknowledge that i am desperate to shift, preferably right now. it's not something i admit to anyone or myself because that's basically continuing to tell a story i don't want to experience (a surefire way to fail), but it is unfortunately the truth as of right now.
thank you for reading, i know this was a lot to get through!! (*^^*)
So pause for a second, because I’m going to tell you something I hope to ingrain in the mind of everyone who sends me an ask—and that you need to remember before reading everything I’m about to say:
YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT. The ability is inside you right now. The moment you read this, your mind already knows how to shift. Everyone does.
The moment you accept this, you solve half of your problems.
And then you tell me, "But if I know how to shift, why isn’t the 3D reflecting that?"
Well, yeah. You painted the house, and now you’re sitting there watching the paint dry.
Look, watching the 3D closely and looking for results isn’t a problem for some people. Some can assume, “I’m already in my DR,” open their eyes, and BAM—they’re in their DR.
Some people assume, “I will shift tonight,” and just like that, they shift that night.
Some people let go of their DRs, stop putting them on a pedestal, and they shift.
Some people clutch their DRs close to their heart until their knuckles turn white—and they shift.
It sounds a lot like you’re forcing yourself into a method of applying the Law of Assumption that doesn’t serve you. Why?? If you recognize that your issue is focusing on time and constantly checking the 3D, work around it. Remove time from your shifting journey.
I don’t like assuming I already have something, then checking the 3D and not seeing it there. Hell, I can shift on command, and yet, if I were to lay in bed right now and tell myself, “I’m in my DR,” I guarantee you I wouldn’t shift. Why? Because that doesn’t work for me.
My dude, change the way you affirm. If affirming in the present (“I already shifted”) doesn’t work for you, change it! Say, “I’m going to shift.” If even that hasn’t been working, let go of implementing time into your affirmations.
Change “I’m going to wake up in my DR in the morning” to “I’m going to wake up in my DR at some point because I KNOW I can shift.”
Change “I’m in my DR right now” to “I can’t wait to be in my DR.”
Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions, because that’s clearly the problem here. Instead of trusting that you’ll shift tonight, trust yourself because you already know how to shift. Or trust your mind because it knows how to shift. Trust your awareness because it knows how to shift.
“I fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my DR (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning.”
If this were completely true, you wouldn’t be sending me this ask. You wouldn’t be doubting yourself as much as you just did in everything you typed. Truly letting go means releasing the need to see results in the 3D.
So, take time out of your assumptions. From now on, say “I will shift.” Or say, “I already know how to shift.”
Your brain then goes: “……???….uh….” looking at the 3D all confused “When? We haven't shifted!”
And you tell it, “It doesn’t fucking matter because I’m going to shift eventually.”
Now, let’s say hypothetically, one week passes and you haven’t shifted. One month passes, and you haven’t shifted. Two months pass, and you haven’t shifted.
And then you come back and say, “Clover, why the heck haven’t I shifted yet? It’s been (insert amount of time). You told me to remove time as an expectation, so why haven’t I shifted yet??”
And I’ll smile at you and ask, “So you’ve been counting the days?”
Let me tell you something about letting go—and hypothetically, ignoring the 3D.
Treat your ability to shift like your fortune. You have a fortune sitting in your bank account right now, and you’re rich. Do you think a rich person checks their bank account every hour to confirm they’re still rich?
"Well yeah, Clover, because a rich person’s reality already reflects that, they’re sitting in a mansion with all their riches."
Your fortune, what makes you rich, is your ability to shift. You already know how to shift. Shifting isn’t something you learn how to do, just like breathing isn’t something you learn how to do. Just like chewing isn’t something you learn how to do. It is an integral part of every human being. If you have awareness, then the ability to shift exists within you.
You don’t learn shifting—you learn yourself.
You learn what makes you shift. What makes you manifest easily. What makes you assume easily. What kind of affirmations your subconscious doesn’t argue against. What makes your self-concept skyrocket.
Because everyone is different, everyone shifts differently. What works for Person A might not work for Person B. What works for Person B might not work for Person C, and so on.
Even my reply to you, it might not resonate with you. But that’s not my fault, and it’s not yours. If that's the case, your job is to look elsewhere—and, in the best-case scenario, look internally because that’s where the answers always are.
Let’s go over your fix options because I just yapped a lot:
YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT.
Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions. Removing time from your shifting process makes it so you have nowhere in the 3D to look.
Stop paying attention to the 3D and pay attention to yourself because what’s going to shift is your awareness, not the damn 3D. Every time you catch yourself thinking, “Oh, but it’s not showing up in the 3D,” remind yourself:
A) You already know how to shift.
B) Shifting is something you can do.
C) It could happen at any moment, so why should anything else matter?
If you were promised a million bucks from a 100% trustworthy source, would you spiral?
One more thing before I wrap this up:
It could be that actively using the Law of Assumption isn’t what works best for you. Maybe you work better with visualizing. Maybe you induce the feeling of being in your DR or being a "master shifter." Maybe subliminals work better for you. There is a world of options out there, and it is completely useless to force yourself to do something that's only bringing frustration in the end. Because there is no singular way to shift. There is no singular way to manifest. And sometimes—for some people���while the Law of Assumption is always true, focusing on it directly isn’t what serves you.
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wasabi-gumdrop · 3 months ago
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Sabi i come to you humbled and humiliated to ask for one thing..PLEASE GIVE US ONE CHAPTER OF NEON GLORY FOR CHRISTMAS
neon glory chapter 12 in the works 🥹🫶🏼
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edelorion · 9 months ago
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#edel vents#disclaimer: really personal issues in the tags. also wishes of death upon others. this is PROBABLY too much information tbh...#so if you're not up for it scroll down fast!!!! the deluge is coming!!!#today was... eventful. bad. also very bad. grandma's birthday celebration was today#and while she... definitely has Old People Issues (racist) shes also very lonely since the death of my grandfather so i can't really not go#i'm the only one who really visits her regularly to begin with#aside from the... very serious racism issue... she's “alright”. i guess. but that's besides the point. there's family there#and among those... my parents. which i don't like to talk to#discovered they threw more of my old stuff away. typical. wanted to strangle them. as usual.#had to “talk” with my mother (read: spend approximately ten seconds reciting exactly why i *don't* talk to her anymore)#so that whole ordeal completely soured my mood.#went home tired. can't really do anything right now.#at least the food was good i guess. but i also really want to cry... which i can't. which sucks.#...i really like to think i've improved as a person. i used to be really hateful of everything and everyone#worst of all myself. still kinda do but i'm... getting better..?#i like to think i've grown past most of it but every time i see my parents i feel this gripping at my heart. as if i haven't really changed#as if instead i'm still the hateful person i “always was” deep down... bc there's this visceral joy that i feel whenever i'm mad at them.#when i looked at my mother and told her how much i despise her i felt a shiver of happiness. righteousness.#to be clear: i do NOT care for her. at all. she's the worst person on this earth#and the only person whom my philosophy of “nobody deserves to die” does NOT apply to. i'm not scared of hating her.#she genuinely deserves this. but...every time i see my parents - and thus her... i feel as if i'm slipping back into that mindset of hatred#i don't want that. not anymore. it consumed me whole. i was a horrible person back then and i've caused so much grief for so many#i can't let go of this hatred. i can't forgive them. they don't deserve my forgiveness anyway. but i'm tired of hating.#i'm tired of letting that hatred define me. i'm tired of letting that hatred direct me. i'm tired of letting it bring me to ruin.#i'm tired of being who i was. i'm no longer “that”. i'm edel now and i'm happy for people now. if i don't like something i just walk out.#i can just leave. “if it sucks hit the bricks” right?.. but i didn't. i had to say it. i had to tell them. her. and i liked it.#and... i'm scared of that. because it tells me i haven't improved.#i'm not sure what i'm expecting out of posting this i guess. maybe help. maybe i wanna be told that this is normal or something.#maybe i just want to get my thoughts in order. i don't know. i'm gonna stop writing now.#sorry for making you read all this. thanks for doing it anyway. tags were cut off on this one btw so it may look like a mess. but. yeah.
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dawntheduckrb · 1 year ago
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I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)
I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏
#seriously though I'm sorry for just up and disappearing like that#wanna talk to people and interact with them so bad lately but I just can't bring myself to do it#so the best i can manage is blabbing in the tags like always#i don't know wtf is going on but over the past few days I've just felt like i don't deserve to talk to anyone#tried to reblog posts from mutuals several times but something in my head keeps saying;#'yeah they don't actually care for your input at all and you're being a bother for even trying etc etc'#and i know deep down that's probably not true (i hope) but i can't reason it away you know#and i know the best solution to this is to just talk to someone#let it be known that i *did* make an attempt to#i tried texting someone (and succeeded) but i couldn't keep doing it and I'm back at square one (and now feel worse lmao)#i'm not really putting this here for anybody to see it as much as i am for myself#but i know that (hypothetically) this could be seen by a real human so it still kinda feels like I'm reaching out in a way which feels nice#makes me feel less like I'm shriveling up in my own self imposed solitude#so uh hello person who might be reading the tags (there's six of you guys here now which is crazy cause i post nothing but junk here lol)#((but thanks anyway for following and even more thanks for reading this if you did))#i'll make my way around all the posts i missed soon enough don't worry#i'm sorry i'm really not meaning to ignore anybody#i have drafted quite a few posts from moots that i couldn't finish leaving comments on but i have seen them#everyone here is super cool and talented as always <3 whether that be through art or writing or just finding neat posts to share#this wall of text is long enough and i'm very eeby so thank you again for reading this#tldr; not dead and i'll be okay eventually :)#not rb#hey look i didn't post a picture of my dog this time (a crime)#i'll make sure to share one the next time i get a good one
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Posts here will likely be on hiatus for a couple weeks as I finish up the semester <3 I'll be back soon enough!
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relicsongmel · 7 months ago
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Being a music-based synesthete with absolute pitch is wonderful but so frustrating because the vast majority of people have no context for the way I experience music and thus whenever I try to explain it it makes no sense to them. What do you mean you can't tell what color this song is. What do you mean you don't hear a Bb minor chord and feel your body react to it before your brain does. What do you mean you can't feel the warm sunbeams of D major dancing across your face. My world is filled with musical color but even if people think it's cool they will never really see it and it makes me sad
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taegularities · 1 year ago
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Rid I'm so sad that you're receiving this hate but for me you're one of the kindest people in here. I'm always rooting for you. Sending hugs. 🥰
thank you babe, i think i needed to hear this.. you're the sweetest, all the hugs back 🥺🤍
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atsu-i · 1 year ago
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Hello, I just saw the anon ask talking about you not being on tumblr that much anymore and we don't really talk to eachother (I think we only ever exchanged messages once), but I wanted to say, while I can, that I have wonderful memories of this website and a lot of them include seeing the mangacaps that you reblog or reading your tags, including all of the occasional venting and even some of the adorable auntie stories.
If you allow me to ramble a little bit, I want to talk about the blog that you called "shitty" and how I think it is actually really cool.
You might not think that you do much because you mostly just reblog stuff, but I feel like all the mangacaps that you reblog are more meaningful than most people think. I think that they are an act of self-expression and throughout the years I've felt like those kinds of posts express a desire that people have to be more honest with their feelings and put them out into the world. I've felt like the mangacaps, combined with all of your text posts, probably do accomplish some of this.
I am not going to say that your blog changed how I view life or anything like that, but I can say that your blog, along with many other similar ones, have seriously been a part of my journey of better understanding myself.
For example, today I liked a post that had a guy feeding a cat in it. And I didn't like the post because the art was amazing. I liked it because I thought that the guy is gentle and that aspect of gentleness resonated with me personally. And obviously, there are times where I might like a post just because I think that the art looks cool, but I think that a lot of times when I'm browsing through tumblr I'm just learning more about myself through the things that I like.
Maybe the whole thing isn't supposed to be that deep, but sometimes (not always) for me it is. I think that this whole thing feels unreal for you because you don't put a lot of effort but I think that it is pretty cool that a bunch of people like the blog despite that.
As always, have a nice day and drink some water.
;-;
#wasnt expecting a reply to that anon reply but tysm for....somehow telling me how you felt about this blog#and somehow me?#also just like the anon...i wanna say ty for appreciating this blog of mine#like seriously I just reblog stuff that resonates with me#and sometimes I just rant and share stuff I wanna share and yeah sometimes I just reblog coz I find it pretty#also the manga's i read shows i watched and will watch...its all here lol and it's...how should I put it#it's just me and somehow it doesnt feel 'real' that anyone will give attention to it? am putting myself out here and not expecting anything#but somehow...some of you notice and am like why lol coz you know my content.....it's very depressing most of the time tbh#anyways haha i still remember you btw haha we talked I think twice? waayy before and am glad I did#thanks for rambling to me...it's always welcome btw#I like reading what you guys think and feel#and somehow I always receive kindness which I think I still dont deserve but you still give it anyway#all I could do is say ty ;-;#like this blog really is my escape tbh....and some of you appreciating it makes me sad and glad at the same time? ;-;#really tysm#and yes am rambling too in my response haha i hope it doesnt bother you reading all this nonsense lol#again ty idk how many times i should say it but yeah#this means a lot...you and everyone else who appreciates me being here#and with that....I would like to say have a nice day/night dear!#I always stay hydrated lol but yeah i hope you do too ^^ stay safe yeah?#oh also! thanks for thinking the blog is cool ;-; you are nice for thinking it that way ;-;#lastly ty for still following me and remembering stuff I shared on here even the personal stuff#again tysm ;-;
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tojisun · 7 months ago
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something about best friend simon not knowing any boundaries (or, deliberately bulldozing through boundaries)—
the way he’s the one who picks you up in the airport even though you and your boyfriend already made arrangements for the pick up, but simon just says he offered to take over because your parents needed help setting things up in their lake house and that your boyfriend offered to help them.
(simon made him offer to help. it’s hidden so well behind honest concern that your boyfriend didn’t notice that simon’s been pushing him into the role until simon's calling out his goodbye's, saying he's off to pick you up now.
"oh, i can-"
"don't sweat it, mate," simon replies with a pinched smile. "i'll drive carefully, promise. bring her back, all safe and lovely.")
you didn’t even know simon’s invited to the vacation, but you gladly murmured to him your thanks, too caught up in your exhaustion to notice the little mean grin that tugged his lips up.
you clamber to his rover messily, blinking slowly, and before you can reach over to buckle your seatbelt, simon leans over and does it for you.
"could've done it myself, y'know?" you whine.
"sure you can," he grunts as he pulls himself back to his seat. "not like y'were one blown wind away from keeling over, but sure."
you roll your eyes at him playfully before biting a giggle when he scrunches his nose at you in reply.
he takes the long route back.
"want anythin' to eat?" simon asks after a while.
"don't we—" you pause, yawning. "need to hurry back?"
"not really," he replies, eyes flicking to the side mirror before he rounds a sharp curve. your body jostles, falling to the side, slipping towards the gear, and simon's hand falls to your lap to steady you.
he doesn't remove it even when the road straightens.
"okay," you finally reply, tired eyes blinking at the size of his hand on your leg. "m'kinda hungry."
he huffs a fond laugh and says he knows a place close by.
it's a local burger joint, apparently known for their fries and milkshake. simon buys you one.
"aww," you croon, grabby hands pulling the cold cup closer to you. "thank you, si."
you two eat in his rover, too lazy to actually settle in the diner.
it's greasy and messy and delicious. simon says you look filthy, before reaching over to wipe the stray milkshake on the corner of your lips. you poke your tongue out to him in reply; he says to swallow that back in before he yanks it out.
you laugh, chucking a balled-up napkin towards him before jumping out of his SUV to run to the bathroom.
(you didn't notice the throngs of messages coming in from your boyfriend nor the way simon swiped your phone from your back pocket and kept it.
he remembers your passcode—still unchanged even after all these years—and reads the messages that your boyfriend sent.
he's asking if you've landed or if you and simon are on your way back. he says he also misses you dearly, and that he can't wait to finally be with you again.
simon deletes them all.)
the two of you return when it’s well into the night, and everyone's gone to sleep. you sigh, feeling the exhaustion hitting you harder now, and amble to your room where you know your boyfriend must be waiting for you, only to stop when simon holds your arm.
"wanna sleep with me?"
"what," you begin, turning your sleepy eyes up at him. "no that's alright. my boyfriend's—"
"asleep, already. probably got ordered 'round by your pa, huh?" he smiles, his thumb swiping along the side of your forearm. "y'might wake up the poor lad if you go there so why don't you sleep in my room just for tonight?"
simon's words wash over you and you know, somehow, there's something wrong with them, with him, but your mind is bogged down by your drowsiness. you can't rationalize what's going on, so you say yes.
that's all simon needed to pull you to his room and into his bed.
you slip out of your clothes, per simon's instructions—his words all muffled as you try to stay up awake—and slip into something loose and baggy—stretched in its overuse but so comfortable on your skin.
it's simon's shirt, you'll learn tomorrow, but for now, you drop to the bed, your eyes shut close, and fall in deep sleep.
the last thing you feel is the heavy dip on the mattress behind you before a thick arm is thrown over your side, pressing into the fat of your stomach to push you back and into simon's front.
limbs lay tangled together, breaths shared, and the summer heat buzzing as skin meets skin.
-
simon doesn't get any better after that. he gets so clingy, and intrudes in your space and forces your boyfriend out.
your boyfriend complained, of course he did, but what could you do? what could you say? simon's your childhood friend so there's nothing malicious between you two. there's nothing more into it.
he gave up fighting then, fists tucked close to his sides as you kissed his jaw and told him to trust you on your words.
but—
how can he calm down? how can he not burn in anger when he sees the way simon pulls you to his lap and you readily nuzzle close. granted it's all because the two of you are watching some game on your phone and the position must be the only way to watch it comfortably, whatever, but it rubs him so wrong how familiar you and simon fall into each other.
how can he not doubt your words when he catches simon's eyes narrowed at him in quiet delight, before deliberately curling his arm around your stomach, and throws the other one on your lap, so dangerously close to your crotch.
it's even worse when the family gathers to the lake, and you and simon are chasing each other, playfighting in front of everyone. simon picks you up with ease, big hands digging into the fat of your belly or your thighs or gripping your ass like simon's so intimately familiar with your body.
how can he not hate himself a little bit when he realizes that it was always you and simon. that that's the dynamic.
-
(and if simon successfully seduces you during this vacation, well—)
-
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hurtspideyparker · 4 months ago
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Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together
Part 1 Part 2
-
Mission debrief:
Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?
Peter: *slowly raises hand*
Natasha: Don't worry you're still young
Peter: 😟
-
Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?
Clint: *points outside*
*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*
Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/
-
Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?
Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke
Clint: No but it might... grow
Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them
Clint:
Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education
-
2:34 am
Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*
Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*
Tony:
Sam:
Tony: Let's never speak of this?
Sam: Yep.
-
Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory
Tony: Thank you thank you
Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS
Tony: Uh
Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE
-
Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*
*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*
Tony: Oh come on. All of you?
*nodding*
Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time
Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*
-
Bucky: Don't sit so close to me
Sam: Why, cause I'm black 🤨
Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat
Sam:
Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-
-
During training:
Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*
Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that
Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*
Natasha: Seems like you already know how
-
Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self
Clint: I'll take that bet
*7 minutes later*
Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!
Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-
-
Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you
Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day
Bucky: What. How do you know about us.
Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...
Bucky:
Natasha:
Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation
-
Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing
*Box is missing the last piece*
Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*
-
Natasha: Kings
Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?
Natasha: Nada. Fives?
Bucky: Shit. Here
Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?
Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve
Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*
-
Steve: Do you want to play catch?
Wanda: What?
Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?
Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about
Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?
Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me
Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*
Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures
Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?
-
Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?
Steve: What did you just say about my chest...
Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.
-
Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?
Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings
Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!
Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs
Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented
Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat
Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence
Bucky: God I hope so
2K notes · View notes
seokgyuu · 6 months ago
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The Sweetest Thing
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All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.
Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 
Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot
Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings under the cut
Word Count: 9.2k 
a/n: and here it is!! my little box of filth. i wanna give a shoutout to @c-oupsie for hyping this up and telling me to keep going, ilysm!! and also @chwepen for beta-reading!! sending you smooches. <3 now everyone, please enjoy this sausage fest.
Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee, @gyuhanniescarat, @branchrkive, @doublebunv, @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie
Smut Warnings: threesome, dom!heeseung, dom!sunghoon, sub!reader, lowkey public sex, p in v sex, throat fucking, unprotected sex (be smarter than this pls!!!), degradation (usage of the words: whore, slut, filthy, stupid (only indirectly?)), praise, tit job, mc is described to have big tits, sunghoon can carry mc, manhandling, cum eating, cum play, shower sex, consensual sex taping, pls tell me if i missed any!!
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Pastel colors are slowly but surely becoming your greatest enemy. You can’t count how many different patterns and matches you have seen on this day alone - and the preparations for this wedding have been going on for months. 
In all honesty, you didn’t even want to be here. As pretty as Tuscany is - this is the last place you want to be at right now. You would rather sit at home and play a game, would rather sleep in and not have your mother be all over you, pressuring you to do better in a job you never wanted in the first place. 
It is your sisters’ wedding. Yes, sisters’. They are both getting married at the same time, same place. Just the grooms are two different men (even though you wouldn’t put it past them to share a man for convenience). Men, you haven’t even met yet. Men, that your mother and sisters kept on swooning over. Look, it is no surprise your sisters got lucky in that department; They are extremely conventionally attractive and they love doing fun things like going out and spending money on things they really didn’t need. 
You grew up with them being six and seven years older than you, making them already inseparable when your mum decided to push another one out. Getting along with them sure as hell wasn’t an easy task, in fact it still isn't. It’s pretty clear you only got the job as Linda’s maid of honor because your mother threatened her to do so. There was probably a very heated rock, paper, scissors round going on between your sister dearests to decide who got to have you. 
And now you are here. In warm, beautiful Italy with yet another color scheme to look over and authorize. You surely didn’t sign up to suddenly become the wedding planner as well. 
“Yeah, that’s perfect, thanks,” you say to one of the florists who are just now setting up the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner happening tonight. 
It’s hot, so hot that you have to take shelter every ten minutes because of the fear of burning up. You don’t usually like to spend this much time outside - let alone in the scorching hot sun, so this is rather the change for you. 
When the florists leave to get another load of flowers, you decide to take this as the next round of shade and air conditioning inside the resort your sisters have chosen for their special day. 
It’s insanely beautiful. High ceilings, incredible murals on the wall, a big round table in the center of the entrance hall with a crystal vase on top, filled with flowers that would make the florist outside turn green in envy. 
The air inside immediately cools you down and you take the moment to sit down in one of the arm chairs in the lobby to calm yourself. Only a week. That’s all you need to survive. A week with your sisters and their fiancés, soon to be husbands and your and their families. Guests would arrive the night before the wedding and as soon as the reception was over - you could finally leave and hopefully not see your sisters for another year or so. 
“Ah, there you are.” You close your eyes for a second. 
“Shouldn’t you be outside?” Linda and Liza are standing in the lobby in their designer sun dresses, very obviously judging you for not being where they want you to be. 
“I just came in to escape the heat for a second, that’s all.” You explain as you open your eyes again. The two certainly don’t look happy. In fact, they roll their eyes and flick their perfect hair over their shoulders.
“Okay, well, time is up. If this wedding doesn’t go according to plan, it’s on you.”
“You don’t want us telling mum you don’t care about your big sisters, do you? She’d be so disappointed knowing you aren’t doing your job right.” 
Your fists almost immediately ball into fists. How many times have they been like this over the three days you’ve already been here? You honestly lost count. One week. Just one week.
“I was just about to go back outside, don’t worry.” 
Anger well hidden away, you stand up and present them with a fake smile, moving to go back outside. 
“Oh and, Y/N?” Linda’s voice feels like a ray of ice hitting you, “try to look a little bit more presentable when talking to our staff. We don’t want them to think we can’t actually afford being here.” 
Your sisters giggle happily all while you bite your tongue once more. One week. Stay calm. One. Week. 
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Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 
It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 
Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 
What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 
And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.
“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 
“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”
“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”
They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 
“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”
“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 
“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”
“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”
Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 
“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”
The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 
Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 
Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.
“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 
“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.
“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 
Oh.
Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 
They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 
But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 
It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.
“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 
“It’d be my pleasure.”
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The very small bathroom stall is crowded with three people, but you make it work. 
Sunghoon is holding your head in place, his cock buried so deep down your throat he’s seeing red. You’re perfect. The sweetest thing on the outside, and a filthy little whore behind closed doors. You literally begged him to thrust down your throat without paying you any mind. You wanted, no, needed him to use your throat, to act like you were nothing but his little fuck toy. And, shit, he was more than happy to do exactly as you asked. 
His hips are moving in rapid speed, his groans music to your ears. Drool is running down your chin and dripping onto your knees. He is not holding back, he is just doing whatever he wants with you and you are throbbing. Throbbing around Heeseungs fat cock that is fucking into you with no care in the world. 
Heeseung is sitting on the toilet seat, his hands on your hips, cock rapidly leaving and entering your sopping hole. His head is literally spinning at how fucking good you feel. He bets you’d also sound fucking perfect if only Sunghoon’s cock wasn’t in the way. He can tell by the way you are already squeaking around his best friend’s cock, how your pussy is continuing to spasm around him after you already came on his cock once before.
“Take it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung breathes out, hips speeding up and your eyes roll back into your head, your body seemingly on fire. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been fucked this good by a strange or, in this case, two strangers. All you know is that you’ve already cum before and that Heeseung surely will get you over the edge another time. He’s thick and veiny and he fills you up so good there was nothing you could do but cum after only a minute of him fucking you like an animal. 
“Shit, look at you,” Sunghoon groans, one hand now wrapping around your throat, his eyes glossy as he stares down at you, still fucking down your abused throat, “you’re a perfect little fucktoy, aren’t you? Enjoy being used by two cocks, huh? Fuuuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum, fucking slut.”
Heesung feels you squeeze around his cock, feels the way you suck him in even deeper. 
“This filthy little thing likes when you talk to her like that, Hoonie. Squeezing my cock so fucking hard.” His head tips back and his mouth drops open as he focuses on his pleasure, already fantasizing about stuffing you with his cum. He moves his hands up, squeezing your perfect tits over your dress and you moan around Sunghoon’s cock, tears streaming down your face. Every touch, every thrust, every word is getting you closer to another high. With Heeseung’s hands on your breasts you can freely move your hips now, bouncing up and down on Heeseung’s cock, matching his thrusts perfectly. 
There is no chance Sunghoon will last much longer. Your mouth, your throat - he’s scared he already developed an addiction to them. Maybe it’s the long time he hasn’t experienced anything like this, but right now it feels like no throat has ever taken his cock so well before.
“Where should I cum, huh? Down your throat? On your pretty face?” Sunghoon groans, his cock twitching over and over before he finally pulls out, jerking himself off so you can answer the question. 
“Cum on her tits, look at those fucking perfect tits, bro.” Heeseung decides to answer for you and Sunghoon smirks as he watches Heeseung get your tits out of your dress for which you thankfully don’t need a bra. Your perfect tits bounce free now and Sunghoon nods, eyes glued to them and how they bounce now that Heeseung continues to fuck into you, your back now arched against him. 
“Fucking hell, such fat fucking tits,” Sunghoon is in a trance, mouth dropped as he jerks himself off with the help off your spit and his precum. 
“Tell him to cum on your tits, slut, come on, tell him how much you want his cum all over you,” Heeseung whispers into your ear, his cock still continuing to ram into your g-spot like it has never done anything else. 
You moan loudly, eyes flying open and Sunghoon almost doesn’t need you to say anything - your fucked out face could well be enough to make him cum. 
“Pl-please g-give me your cum, want it a-all over my tits, pl-please, need it so bad!” You cry out and Sunghoon feels his orgasm hit him, thick spurts of cum landing on your tits and neck, some even on your lips that you hungrily lick off of them, only making another spurt come out of Sunghoons cock. 
“Holy fucking hell, shit,” he groans, falling against the stall door, his chest heaving. 
Heeseung, meanwhile, grabs your hair and tilts your head back as he does his final thrusts, filling your pussy with his seed, white making you feel warm inside and tipping you over the edge, milking him for all he has with your own orgasm, high pitched moans escaping you as your toes curl and your hands grip the material of your dress. 
Once he’s done fucking both of you through your orgasms, Heeseung helps you up, his cock slipping out of you. You’re a little shaky on your legs and Sunghoon catches you before you can fall, his eyes immediately going to your tits that are covered in his cum. He licks his lips. 
“If we had more time I’d take you to my room and fuck those tits until they are covered in even more layers of my cum, baby.” He mumbles, one finger scooping up some of his release and shoving his finger in your mouth, watching in awe how you eagerly suck it clean. 
“Holy fuck, you’re perfect.” Heeseung has put his cock back into his pants, considering to get it back out just to have you lick it clean of your and his juices. He decides against it mainly because he knows there isn’t much time. He and Sunghoon have to get back to the hotel, their fiancés probably awaiting their return. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sunghoon says, but you shake your head, only putting your tits back into your dress and stepping back into your panties.
“I wanna keep it for a bit, keepsake if you will.” 
Both men are silent. Where the fuck have you been before they got engaged to the sisters from hell? For a second they contemplate just keeping you. Using you for when their soon to be wives were being difficult again. 
Obviously, though, this was just a fantasy not meant for reality. 
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Perhaps it’s well deserved. Having the worst morning all week, the day right after you fucked two strangers in a restaurant’s bathroom. Two engaged strangers. It’s not a surprise that you didn’t care about the blurred lines of their… relationship status, considering you’ve had quite a few hook-ups with married men who were out of town and needed someone to fulfill their needs while their perfect trophy wives were sitting at home waiting for them. Not the proudest thing you’ve done, but whatever gets you cumming. 
Today, your sisters seem to have it out for you especially. You blame it on the nerves, after all their perfect fiancées are about to arrive today. Everything needs to be in order, their dresses, their hair, their nails, everything. 
You’ve become their personal stylist, nail artist and hairdresser all for nothing more than a chuckle at the way your shirt rises up and shows your stomach that they love to comment on. It’s a win-win situation, for sure. 
“Can’t you see you’ve made a mistake!” Liza screeches, pointing at her (to your eyes) perfectly drawn eyeliner. You blink at her and take a deep breath. Six days. 
“I apologize.” Quickly, you move to fix your error, but your sister slaps your hand away and rips the pencil out of your hand.
“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself, like everything else, you useless piece of trash.”
Six. Days. 
Since there is no point in responding to her, you only nod and turn to Linda who is currently checking herself out in her hand mirror. 
“Anything I can do for you?” You ask, feeling ridiculous. One could think you’re their personal assistant and not their younger sister. 
“Just get out, Heeseung and Sunghoon are about to arrive and I don’t want them seeing you first thing, imagine their shock.”
Heeseung and Sunghoon. 
Something rings in your head. Had they ever mentioned their fiancés names before? Probably - why else would they be so familiar to you. 
“Alright. I’ll be by the pool then.” 
Neither of them deems it appropriate to even slightly acknowledge you before you leave the room.
A huge sigh leaves you the second you step out of Linda’s room and instead head for your own. Just a quick change into a bikini and down you go. A few hours in the sun, maybe a couple laps in the pool. Another bit of peace while your sisters are occupied. Sounds like the perfect morning to you. 
Just that, when you reach your room and change into said bikini - you notice a bruise right above your hip. Your eyes widen at the sight, moving closer to the mirror to inspect it. There is no other possible reason but what happened last night. 
“Shit,” you mumble, looking around your clothes for this one light pink scarf you could easily wrap around your hips as some sort of cover. The last thing you want is for your sisters to see this and ask questions. Bad enough you had the face and figure you had - imagine their outrage if one of these was even further damaged! 
For as long as you can remember your sisters had been your biggest haters. No matter what you did, if you changed your hair or your wardrobe, they’d be mean to you about it. To them, you were nothing but an unwanted addition to a family they had deemed already perfect. Neither of them had ever wanted another sibling, especially not six and seven years apart from them. Suddenly, you were the center of attention, had your mother cradling you and loving you and not giving them the attention they were sure they deserved. 
Even now, at their grown ages, about to get married, they couldn’t seem to get over it. 
From an outsider's perspective their lives were fairly more successful than yours. With great jobs in high positions, a perfect routine that included gym visits four times a week, and of course their perfect soon-to-be husbands. If it weren’t so frustrating it might have been funny how they literally kept them from you - kept everything from you. Blocked you from their socials to not be associated with you, living in their own little bubble, acting like you didn’t exist. 
So, expect your surprise when Linda called and asked you to be her maid of honor. You had only accepted because you know your mother would be devastated if you didn’t. 
That all seems like an okay trade for the view of the hotel pool right by the beach, your body rubbed in sunscreen and your sunglasses on top of your nose listening to music and enjoying your moments without a sister (or mother) around to tell you what to do. 
But your life wouldn’t be yours if your peace weren’t suddenly interrupted by the high pitched laugh of one of your sisters floating through the air and reaching your ears. It hadn’t even been half an hour. Maybe, you think, they won’t even come over. After all, they had hidden you away from them for as long as they had been together. Perhaps they wanted to wait til the day of the wedding next week to finally introduce you. 
Curiosity gets the best of you at last. Who are these men they’ve been gatekeeping from you, who have been nothing but your mother’s pride? Slowly, you turn into the direction of the high pitched laugh, opening your eyes behind your sunglasses. 
And the world around you seems to shake. 
“No fucking way,” you breathe out, moving quickly to get up. Panic arises within you, sheer ugly panic that has your body shaking. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening! You move to throw your phone and headphones onto the lounge chair, your eyes darting back and forth between here and your sister’s location, finally freeing yourself of all the things that can’t get wet to jump into the pool. It seemed like the only way not to get noticed by them. 
There are several other people in the pool and the splash of you jumping in had been drowned out by the sound of a child laughing and screaming. You stay underwater for a good while, thanking your strong lungs, and only come back up when you feel like enough time has passed for them to have left - only to be met by absolute horror. 
They had taken seats right next to your stuff. In their bathing suits from Chanel or Prada or whatever, they looked breathtaking. Not that they would ever get into the pool. It wasn’t them, though, who made your blood turn cold and the insides of your stomach threatening to say hello again - it was their fiancés. 
Short dark hair, beautiful faces. One with a mole on his nose. The other with clear shock in his eyes. 
The men from last night. 
As if to remind you further, you feel the bruise on your hip suddenly starting to throb with pain. You wince and look down, noticing your make-shift cover up being gone. Wonderful. 
Your sisters notice you now, their eyes widening when they see you in the state you’re in. Dripping with water, your hair pushed back out of your face, your body dressed in nothing but a flimsy bikini. They had always envied you for your breasts - not that they would ever admit this. But seeing them right now made them even angrier, after  all Heeseung and Sunghoon were right here and could see those monstrosities! 
And yeah, they see. See your body in that bikini that is leaving nothing to the imagination. See your tits almost falling out of the bikini top - tits that were covered in Sunghoon's cum not even 24 hours ago. They see your pretty face, your long eyelashes, droplets of water sliding down your soft skin. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon don’t realize the gravity of the situation yet, right now all they think about is how they’ve hit the jackpot because you’re in the same hotel as them. Right now, neither of them knows who you are besides the girl they’ve fucked the night before. 
“Y/N!” Liza screeches, “get out of that pool right now, you look ridiculous!” 
Linda gets up and grabs one of the towels next to her, throwing it into the Pool. She wants you to cover up, needs you to cover up. 
It is then that Sunghoon and Heeseung slowly understand. Your name. They have heard that name before. Time and time again. 
“Mum made me pick my ugly little sister as my maid of honor, Hoonie, can you believe her?” 
“Ugh, Y/N, called today. Wanted to congratulate us. Can you believe her? I bet she is so jealous, Hee, she could never get a man to stay. She’s just… too…. ew.”
You’re their sister. Their little sister they have nothing good to say about. 
You. The girl from last night. The girl who potentially could become the best fuck of both of their lives. 
If they had been able to, they would have looked at each other. But they are too mesmerized by you getting out of the pool with the towel wrapped around your body, or at least around your upper half. They can still easily see your legs, your perfect thighs, the little bikini bottom that does almost nothing to cover up your ass, can see the bruise that is a clear indication of what happened last night. It’s safe to say they are both growing harder in their trunks. Relatively bad timing. 
“Sorry, I told you I would be at the pool,” you mumble once you get out, grabbing for your stuff.
“I don’t think so, I would have remembered that!” Liza hisses, her arm sneaking around short hair. So, he must be Heeseung. Heeseung who had his cock buried inside of you mere hours ago and whose cum was most likely still inside of you. 
“Just go back upstairs,” Linda shoos you away with her hand and you let your eyes wander to mole next to her. Sunghoon, then. Sunghoon who had been craving a mouth around his cock, Sunghoon who had his cock in your mouth, who had cum all over your exposed tits. 
Your body heats up and you quickly turn around to leave. 
“It was nice to meet you!” Sunghoon calls after you and you swallow hard, not turning back to them before you leave. 
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Dinner that night is horribly awkward, to say the least. The fact you’re even allowed to participate is insane. Your parents are delighted to welcome you once you sit down, your sisters and their fiancés showing up a little while after you. 
As it turns out, the two men had insisted you’d join them for dinner. Judging by the way they look at you, you feel like they’d rather have you be their dinner. 
Nothing could have prepared you for this. For the utter want you see in their faces, the utter want you feel in your bones. It makes all of dinner extremely awkward, makes you press your thighs together, shove around your food on the plate because suddenly your appetite is for something entirely different. 
But you know you can’t. The first time, so you tell yourself, was fine because you didn’t know who they were. You even go as far as to blame your sisters for this, after all they had never bothered to show you what Heeseung and Sunghoon look like. 
Now, it’s different. Now you know who they are. And as much as you despise your sister’s, you don’t think you could do this to them. 
… Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Because the second you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and find yourself pressed against yet another stall door, you know you’ve been lying to yourself.
It’s Heeseung, his hands on your hips, digging into the bruise on your side, having you moan in no time.
“What are the fucking odds, hm?” He whispers, his breath hitting your face. You open your mouth to answer, but Heeseung dips forward, his tongue sliding into your open warmth, his lips pressing down on yours. It doesn’t matter what you thought of before, doesn’t matter who he is. Your body is taking over, melting against the strong man, against his chest and arms. 
Heeseung kisses you hungrily, like he has been starving for days. He had wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked you into the one bathroom stall for men, had claimed you as his for the next few minutes.
“We-we can’t!” You cry out, pushing him away, but Heeseung only grabs you harder, turning you around, your chest hitting the door and a gasp escaping your mouth.
“If we can’t, why are you so fucking wet, baby?” His fingers are inside your cunt the next second and your eyes roll back, hips already chasing his touch. He smirks behind you, shoving your dress up with his free hand. Your backside is a sight to behold and he licks over his lips before landing a slap to your right ass cheek. You squeak. 
“I guess bathroom stalls are just our thing now, aren’t they?”
Just that this one is spacier. You’re pressed against the door that leads right into the open restaurant. You can hear the people outside, can hear the sound of cutlery meeting plates, of glasses clinking. 
“Hee-Heeseung, yo-you’re my sister’s fiancé!” You tried again, even though your hips were already bouncing on his fingers. Heeseung chuckled lowly.
“Don’t tell me now you care about the fact I’m in a relationship. It seemed like yesterday you couldn’t wait to get this taken cock shoved into your pussy.”
He’s not wrong. You bite down on your lip and turn slightly, looking over your shoulder into his dark eyes. God, he’s beautiful.
“Please,” you pout then, and his smirk comes back, his nimble fingers freeing his rock hard cock. You lean back against the door, your cheek pressed against the cold wood, your hands on either side of your head. Your pussy is dripping down his fingers and once he removes them, you’re already impatient to feel his huge cock fill you up.
Wiggling your hips, he lands another slap on your ass before shoving his cock into you, both of you groaning once he bottoms out. 
Then, he doesn’t show you any mercy. One of his hands sneaks around you, pressing down on your mouth to keep you quiet as he fucks you right into the door. He is panting, staring down at the way his cock slides in and out of you over and over again. His other hand fishes for his phone in his pocket, halting his thrusts for only a second to concentrate on opening the camera on the phone and hitting record. 
“Need to bring Hoonie something to jerk off to later,” he grins as he continues to fuck you, your moans getting numbed only by his hand. He just feels too good. Feels like no other cock you’ve had before. He’s big, wide and so god damn veiny. Every vein seems to drag along your walls, seems to push you closer to the edge. Your eyes are rolling back as your ass bounces off his hips, as his thrusts become sloppier with every second. He needs to cum soon and so do you. There isn’t much time for this, no time in fact. But he’s been craving you, and so has Sunghoon. Thank all the luck in the world for him to have won that rock, paper, scissors round. 
“God, you take it so well, you’re such a good little whore, aren’t you? All ready to go when I need to get my cock in you, fuck.” 
Heeseung’s words make your pussy spasm around him, his next groan deeper than before. He changes the angle slightly, fucking into you faster and harder, his orgasm getting closer with every little squeeze of your pussy. 
“Gonna cum so hard into your pussy, gonna have you sit at that table with my cum trickling into your panties.” He breathes into your ear and bites into your earlobe after, causing you to triple over the edge and cum hard around his cock - taking him right with you. 
He curses as he fucks both of you through your orgasms, his cum filling you up, warming you from the inside. 
Planting kisses on the back of your neck, Heeseung pulls out, watching his release drip out of you. 
“I could get used to this,” he says and puts your panties back into its rightful place. 
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It doesn’t stop there. And it also doesn’t stop with Heeseung. But while Heeseung is more daring (coming to your hotel room at night, sending you pics of his dick after a shower, telling you to send him a voice note of you cumming), Sunghoon decided to take his time to make his move. You know it’s coming. You just don’t know when. 
Heeseung is like a wild animal - he can’t get enough of you. He wants to have his hands on you, his dick in you and his cum all over you as many times as he can. But the week only has seven days, and you only have four more to go until this whole thing is over and they are married to your sisters. 
Four days until you won’t be around them all the time, four days until Heeseung won’t be knocking on your door at two in the morning asking you to get on your knees. He fucks you like he owns you, like he knows your time is limited. It is, after all. He leaves marks where it is hard to spot them, kisses you in places no one has ever kissed before. 
Yes, the nights with Heeseung are special and steamy and perfect - and yet you wonder where Sunghoon is in all of this. You see the way he looks at you, and you did get a dick pic from him the night you and Heeseung fucked at that first dinner, courtesy to him seeing the video Heeseung took of you. And that is the thing, Heeseung films you. He films you when you’re on top of him, when he’s behind you, when you got his cock down your throat, when you’re bouncing up and down his cock. All of it goes straight to Sunghoon, all of it leads to Sunghoon cumming all over himself in the bathroom and sending you a picture of it. He never leaves his room, though, never does anything about it.
It’s day minus three til the wedding and you’re at the beach with everyone. The other maid of honor has arrived, and so have the two best men. Jake and Jay, they had introduced themselves as and judging by the way they were looking at you… they knew exactly who you were. If you weren’t so busy with Heeseung, you’d gladly have slipped into one of their rooms at night. 
You’re laying on your towel, happy to have everyone around you be busy with something that isn’t you. Your book is in your hands, the words getting more and more raunchy, your thighs pressing together. Perhaps this isn’t the best place to read smut, but it’s not like you have any control over when these scenes happen in the book. You just know every word hits you deep and has you biting down your lip. Even with the soreness still left between your legs from last night's visit, you feel yourself growing wetter with every sentence. 
“In broad daylight, sweetheart, really?” 
The voice makes you flinch, your book flipping closed as you turn around, spotting Sunghoon standing right above you. He is wearing a slight smirk on his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Not just because he caught you with your book but because he’s standing there in nothing but his trunks, a cup of iced coffee in his slim hand. His chest is defined, so are his abs. His arms look strong, toned, like they could throw you against a wall and hold you there. You swallow the lust that is daring to come up.
“What do you want?” You hiss, sitting up and looking at him. 
He hasn’t really talked to you much. Too busy giving you looks and pretending like he didn’t when your sister or parents or any other already arrived wedding party approached him. 
“What would I want?” Sunghoon asks back, tilting his head. The view he has from up here, your tits sitting in your bikini top, looking as delicious as they always did. It takes all in him not to drag you up and take you in front of everyone. 
You snort and roll your eyes, turning back to your book.
“Well, if there is nothing you want, you can leave me alone.” 
He watches you, how you lay back on your stomach, how you open the book and look for the page you just read. Licking over his lips, he roams his eyes over you. At this point, he has lost count of how many times he’s looked at you. How many times he has waited in the bathroom at night for Heeseung to send the videos, the pictures. As much as he was jealous, he enjoyed looking at you as he used his lubed up hand to get himself off. Except… for the last two days. He hasn’t sent you a picture of him with his cum all over his torso or thighs for two days because he simply hadn’t let himself reach climax. He’s been edging himself for all this time, waiting for the right time to unload all of his seed… preferably on you. 
It doesn’t feel like enough. Just getting to watch you through a screen, imagine what you would feel like. Your mouth, he remembers. Vividly. Your pussy… he can only wonder. Only guess when Heeseung sends him those videos or when he tells him before they head down to breakfast. 
Letting his eyes wander over your frame, your neck and back, your hips and ass, your legs… 
“Get up.” He says. You don’t move. 
He growls.
“I said,” his voice is low and warmth gathers at your core, “get up.”
It is when you still don’t move, Sunghoon feels his patience run thin. He places his iced coffee on one of the tables next to the lounge chairs.
Then, he is quick to pull you up, both his hands on your hips, a yelp coming out of you as he skillfully gets you on your feet. You stare at him with wide eyes and your mouth agape. Oh… your mouth. He has to restrain himself - already half hard in his trunks. Sunghoon looks around, sees his fiancé in a conversation with your mother. An idea flashes before him and he smirks slightly, alarm bells ringing in your head. What is he planning?
Not even a second passes when he grabs his iced coffee and spills it all over himself.
“God, watch where you’re going!” He yells, making all of your family members and their friends look at you. This little shit. 
Linda immediately jumps to her feet.
“Look what you’ve done!” She screeches and you press your lips together, acting the part of the guilt ridden sister.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You defend yourself, but your sister just shoots you a deadly gaze. 
“My darling, are you alright?” She is looking at Sunghoon now at his coffee stained self. He shakes his head.
“I really wanted that coffee. And these are my favorite trunks,” he sighs, “come on, Y/N, you’re gonna get me a new coffee.”
“I can get you a new coffee, babe!” Linda tries, her fingers wrapping around Sunghoon’s arm. It fills you with a sense of triumph when he moves out of her grip.
“You didn’t do this, honey. She did. Go back to your lounging.” He says it to her, but looks at you. And, god, you don’t think you’ve ever been more aroused in your life. 
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It starts in the elevator up to his room. His hands are on your tits and your tongue is in his mouth. He groans when he feels you grabbing around his cock, hand swiftly inside his swimming trunks. There are no words being exchanged, only moans and sighs and gasps as he presses you against the wall, your kisses getting deeper and heavier by the second. 
Sunghoon has never wanted anyone as much as you right now. His cock is begging to be freed, leaking into his trunks. His thoughts are spiraling, a part of him just wants to push those skimpy bikini bottoms to the side and just fuck you right here, no matter if someone could walk in at any second, the other wants to take his time, bring you to his room and explore every inch of you. 
When the elevator stops at his floor, he drags you out, glad no one is around to see as he pushes you against the wall next to the now closing elevator doors, his hand immediately moving between your legs. He moans at the wetness already there. Well aware you haven’t been in the pool or the ocean today. 
“Fuck, look at you. So fucking wet.” He mumbles against your lips, pulling them into yet another heated kiss just as his fingers slip underneath your swimming suit, making you whimper. Your hips roll against his hand and he bites down on your bottom lip, fingers getting closer to where you want them, need them, the most. 
But he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you to his room, getting the keycard out of the small pouch he had in the pockets of his trunks. You watch as he opens the door, watch as impatience and need radiate off him and another feeling of triumph, of confidence overcomes you. He is actively choosing you over your sister. He wants you not her. 
Once you’re inside and the door is closed, you find yourself stuck between him and yet another wall, or in this case, door. His first mission is to get your tits out, his hands losing the strands of your top, the little fabric falling onto the floor a second later. He licks over his lips.
“I’ve been dreaming of these, baby,” he whispers, “come on, get on your knees.”
You do as told instantly. Dropping to your knees, eyes focused on him and only him. On how he now shoves his trunks down slowly, his cock, hard and red at the tip, springing free for you to admire. Your pussy starts throbbing. How badly you want him inside you, how badly you want him to fill you up with his cum, joining Heeseung’s from last night. 
“Open up, slut.” Again, you obey. Your mouth drops open, tongue sticks out and Sunghoon’s cock twitches at the sight. This is what he has been dreaming about. Your mouth around his cock, your perfect heavy tits naked and oh-so ready to be painted like that first night. 
“Good girl, so, so obedient.” He moves closer, right hand around his cock as the left is leaned against the wall, helping him keep his balance. Slowly, he brings the tip of his cock to the tip of your tongue, watching as you lick over it immediately. His eyes don’t leave yours when he begins shoving it in, his chest heaving. There is a good chance he might not last long, but he won’t let you leave this room without his cock having been inside you and if that means going again right after his first or second load. 
You take him like a pro. Feel him slide down your throat, hitting the back of it before going even deeper. You choke just slightly, breathing through your nose. He stops only when he is fully buried, his breath getting heavier with every passing moment.
“You take it so fucking well, what a good little whore.” Sweat is pooling at the top of his forehead, his knees about to give in. He begins to move his hips slowly at first, but when you tap his thigh, he takes it as a sign to go harder. And, shit, does he go harder. Throwing his head back as he brings both his hands to your head, holding it in place as he thrusts down your throat over and over again. His balls hit your chin whenever he moves to bury himself again, his moans and groans nothing but music to your ears. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” He groans in pleasure, pulling his cock out and the next thing you know there is cum all over you. Your tits are full with his seed, your neck, your chin, your face. You gasp slightly, staring at him with your lips swollen from the roughness of his movements. He breathes hard, hand around his cock to hold it steady as waves of his pleasure make more cum land on your tits. 
“That’s right, look at you, fuck,” his eyes are glossy watching your tits covered in his cum, his cock not losing any of it’s hardnes even after the amount of cum he just left on you. It’s not hard to notice. Your fingers scoop up a bit of it, sucking them clean and not letting him out of your sight. Sunghoon feels like he might have reached heaven. 
“You’re so fucking filthy,” he grumbles, pulling you up by your arms and crashing your lips against his again. He pulls you to the bed and pushes you down, watching your cum-covered tits bounce as you fall. You know what he wants and you slightly sit up, your elbows behind you, watching as he moves on top of you. His eyes are still so full of hunger, of need, of pure and hot lust. 
His cock slides between your tits, his hands pushing them together around it. Then, he begins to thrust again. Just like he had wanted back at the restaurant. Fuck your tits covered in his cum, add a little more. 
You feel like the luckiest woman on earth with him like this. Using you to get off, his cock fucking your tits like a madman, whimpers and moans and groans, his head thrown back as he enjoys the feeling. It is even better than his imagination. Every second feels like he’s gonna ascend any moment now. His skin is tingling with desire and he wonders if it’ll ever stop. Right now, he thinks, he could probably go on for hours, for days. Just you and him and your tits and your mouth and your pussy. 
When he looks down again, sees the way you look at him, see the way his cock looks sandwiched between your breasts, Sunghoon can’t help but cum again, less than before but still enough to cover your chest and neck, adding even more paint to the already perfect canvas. 
Exhaustion is starting to spread through his bones, but he’s ignoring it. Instead, he pulls you up with him again, kissing you hard, fingers now finally finding their way into your bottoms again. He shoves them inside you immediately. 
“Sunghoon!” You cry out, fingers gripping his strong shoulders as he places you on his lap, straddling him. He fucks you with his fingers, hard and fast. Your pussy squeezes them, your arousal dripping onto his bare thighs.
“So, so wet. So fucking filthy with my cum all over you. Tell me, baby, are you a whore?”
“Y-Yes!” You squeak. He grins wickedly, adding a third finger to the two. You cry in pleasure, bouncing up and down on his long, perfect fingers.
“So eager to be called a whore. Fucking a taken man, two taken men. Your sister’s men. Aren’t you ashamed?” He breathes into you ear and you moan again, nails digging into his skin.
“N-No!” You answer and he laughs quietly, thumb now pressing down on your clit. You feel the first tears starting to pool in your eyes.
“Oh, but you should be. Such a dirty fucking whore, full of cum, getting her pussy fucked by her sister’s fiancés fingers,” He chuckles, “and soon his cock.”
You reach the edge just then. When he promises you his lengths, when he tells you how ashamed you should be. As if you don’t know. That’s what makes this whole thing so ridiculously hot. 
He fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your mouth again, tongues slashing against each other in a heated fight. You need him to fuck you. Right now. And as if he could read your mind, Sunghoon picks you up, hands underneath your thighs, lips never leaving yours and brings you to the spacious bathroom. 
First, he fucks you in front of the mirror. Makes you watch yourself, getting fucked like a cheap whore by his sister’s soon-to-be husband. He makes you lick his cum off his fingers, thrusts them as deep down your throat as his cock is penetrating you. 
Your pussy might be the best he’s ever had. The second he was buried inside of you, he knew he was done for. Knew this couldn’t be the last time he did this. Every bit of you, he wanted for himself. He even thought about asking Heeseung to back off, which he knew his best friend never would. Not with you. Not when you were this perfect. Fulfilling their every need, letting them do with you whatever they wanted. 
When he gets you in the shower, he washes the drying cum off of you softly. He’s still inside of you, his still not fully satisfied cock. You squeeze around him, throb around him. You need him to do more, he knows it as well as you. But he’s gentle. Uses a sponge to get every bit of his seed off your body, his lips kissing your cheeks, lips, nose, neck and breasts. It’s almost too soft for you. 
This is supposed to be about nothing but sex. He is supposed to fuck you, call you names while you’re at it and then disregard you. Instead, he’s being gentle. 
That is, until the door outside opens and your sister’s voice interrupts the softness. It makes room for yet another wicked grin and Sunghoon’s first thrust inside of you for minutes. Your hand flies to your mouth covering the pathetic whimper that would have come out. Sunghoon’s eyes sparkle.
“Hoonie? Are you in the shower?”
He begins to thrust again, his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as he gives you his fucking all. Your eyes roll back.
“Yes, darling. Your stupid sister managed to get me all sticky with that coffee!”  
Your pussy fluttered at the words. He grinned wider.
“Oh, like it when I call you stupid?” He whispers into your ear, cock twitching rapidly as he bites into your neck, hips showing you absolutely no mercy.
“Ugh, I am so sorry about her! She’s not just a klutz, she’s also insanely dumb. I can’t wait to never see her again after this is done.”
Perhaps these words would have hurt you, if Sunghoon wasn’t railing you like the god he was. Every thrust was smooth and yet hard enough to make your toes curl. He made quick work to lift you up, your legs now wrapping around his middle as he continued to fuck into you, moaning into your neck to drown out the noise. 
“Yeah, she is a real piece of work,” he finally replied, his eyes staring into yours as he smirked. 
“No wonder she can’t get a boyfriend! Who would ever want to be with that?” 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, pressing his body closer to yours, kissing you again, his tongue licking sensually over your bottom lip. It makes a shiver run down your spine. 
“Anyway, where did she go? I didn’t find her in her room.”
Sunghoon reluctantly parts from you.
“No clue. She got me a new coffee and stormed off like the big baby she is.” 
He grabs your tits again, squeezing and massaging, nipple between forefinger and thumb, leaning down so he can put it in his mouth and suck and bite down, your hand on your mouth pressing down harder. 
You explode around him. Squirt like a fucking porn-star, liquid shooting out of you and down his legs, mixing with the water of the shower. Sunghoon’s knees are once more about to give in. He moans against your lips, hoping Linda didn’t hear and at the same time also hoping she did. Your climax makes him cum for the third time that day, his hot semen filling your spent pussy, painting it white like the clouds. 
“That, she is indeed,” Linda laughs, “anyway, we’re gonna go get dinner in the city, baby. I’ll be at Liza’s room, love you!”
Sunghoon doesn’t answer and Linda just leaves. You feel like no words were even needed to understand. 
Once you’re sure Linda is gone for good, Sunghoon and you step out of the shower. It’s quiet between you, quiet and somewhat heavy. You don’t like it one bit. You’re quick to grab your bikini and put it back on, relieved to know you most likely won’t find your sisters back at the beach where you’re headed now. 
You don’t turn around again when you leave the bathroom. And you also don’t expect Sunghoon to say anything. Still, when you open the door to leave, you feel just a tiny bit disappointed that he doesn’t hold you back. 
How utterly pathetic of you. 
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Heeseung doesn’t come for you that night. You wonder if it’s because of Sunghoon and decide it most definitely is because of Sunghoon. 
Yet, the slightly younger male doesn’t come to seek you out either. 
Tonight, it’s just you. 
And perhaps, you think, that’s just how it’s supposed to be. 
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to be continued...
header & divider credit to the wonderful @wongyuseokie <3
1K notes · View notes
gumims · 10 days ago
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tied by ink | choso x reader
for the @phantasmaebg event
wc: 1350
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your soulmate tattoo showed up on your sixteenth birthday, scrawled across your wrist like a bold declaration: “stay.” it wasn’t cute, romantic, or poetic like you imagined. it was blunt. vague. frustrating.
and years later, you still had no clue what it meant.
that’s why you were here now, sitting in a tattoo parlor that smelled like antiseptic and fresh ink, the fluorescent lighting humming faintly above you. you didn’t know what you wanted yet, but you knew you needed something.
“you here for a consult?” the girl at the counter asked.
“yeah,” you replied, your fingers twitching nervously at your side.
“choso’s got time. best hands in the shop.” she grinned, jerking her thumb toward the back.
you nodded, muttering a quick thanks before heading toward the artist’s booth.
as you turned the corner, you saw him sitting there—dark hair pulled into a messy half-bun, loose strands falling around his sharp face. tattoos covered his forearms, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.
hot.
his dark eyes flicked up as you approached, pinning you in place.
“you’re here for a tattoo?” his voice was deep, smooth like it didn’t belong in this tiny shop.
“uh, yeah,” you stammered, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.
he gestured to the chair in front of him, and you sat, trying not to fidget as his gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long.
“so, what are you thinking?”
you hesitated. “something small, but meaningful. i just… need something new.”
he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read you. “first one?”
“yeah.”
he hummed, his gaze dropping to your wrist. you’d forgotten to cover the soulmate mark today, and his eyes lingered on the word inked there.
“soulmate tattoo,” he said casually, like it wasn’t the most personal thing he could’ve pointed out.
you tensed. “everyone’s got one.”
“not everyone,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “what’s the story with yours?”
you glanced away, your face heating up. “there’s no story. it says ‘stay.’ it’s… complicated.”
“complicated how?”
you met his gaze, your frustration bubbling up. “it doesn’t mean anything. not yet, anyway. and honestly, i’m not holding my breath.”
his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “so you’re one of those people who doesn’t believe in soulmates?”
“i didn’t say that,” you shot back. “i just… don’t think everyone finds theirs. or if they do, maybe it doesn’t work out.”
he didn’t respond right away, but the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smirk. “fair enough.”
you watched as he grabbed a sketchpad, his tattooed hands moving with practiced precision. “let’s figure out something that fits,” he murmured, his focus shifting to the page.
the way his fingers moved, the way he hunched slightly over the paper, made it impossible to look away. he radiated confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing—not just with the drawing, but with you, too.
“so,” he said after a few minutes, his voice breaking the silence. “you’ve never thought about finding them?”
“my soulmate?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though his words sent a weird shiver down your spine.
“yeah.”
you shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “not really. it’s not like they’re going to show up out of nowhere.”
“sometimes they do.”
his tone was calm, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, your brows furrowing.
“has it happened to you?”
he didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before returning to his sketch. “maybe.”
cryptic much, you thought, but you couldn’t deny the way your pulse jumped.
“what does your tattoo say?” you asked, leaning forward slightly.
his lips curved, but he didn’t look up. “you really wanna know?”
“obviously.”
“you’ll find out.”
“that’s not an answer,” you muttered, but he ignored you, his focus back on the page.
when he finally turned the sketchpad around, your breath hitched.
“what do you think?” he asked, his voice softer now.
“it’s…” you swallowed. “it’s perfect.”
he gave you a small nod, standing to prep his station. “this’ll hurt a little,” he warned as you settled into the chair, rolling up your sleeve.
“i can handle it,” you replied, though your voice came out shakier than you wanted.
his hands were steady as he guided the needle over your skin, the soft hum of the machine filling the room. the sting was sharp at first, but it quickly dulled into a strange sort of comfort.
“so,” he said after a while, his tone almost conversational, “if your soulmate walked through that door right now, what would you say?”
you hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “i don’t know. maybe… ‘where the hell have you been?’”
he let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a tingle down your spine. “bold.”
“what about you?” you asked, desperate to turn the attention off yourself. “what would you say?”
his hands didn’t falter, but his voice dropped a notch. “depends on if they’d stay.”
your heart skipped, his words hitting deeper than you expected. you glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable, his focus entirely on your arm.
when he finally pulled back, he wiped the tattoo clean, tilting your arm toward the light.
“done,” he said simply.
you stared at the design, your chest tightening. it was beautiful, perfect in a way that almost felt… familiar.
“thank you,” you murmured, your voice softer now.
he leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. “anytime.”
as you stood to leave, you caught a glimpse of his wrist as he reached for something—a single word inked there in bold black letters.
“stay.”
your blood ran cold.
he noticed your pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he followed your gaze. when your eyes met again, there was no denying it.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered.
he smirked, leaning casually against the counter. “took you long enough.”
“you—” your words caught in your throat, your pulse racing. “why didn’t you say anything?”
“wanted to see if you’d figure it out,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm.
you took a shaky breath, your mind reeling. “so what now?”
he pushed off the counter, stepping closer until the space between you felt suffocating.
“now,” he said, his voice low, “you decide if you’re gonna stay.”
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shiroxichigo · 5 months ago
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Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).
I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.
Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.
Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.
It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.
We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.
Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.
Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.
So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.
So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.
Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?
Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.
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junkissed · 5 months ago
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goodnight n go (teaser)
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member — fwb!vernon x reader genre — smut, angst, non-idol au teaser word count — 1.7k full fic word count — 10.2k synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different. warnings — mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, car sex, guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, no physical descriptions of reader, vernon is afraid of commitment. this is a teaser and the final fic will have a happy ending !! notes — before you ask, yes this is based on the ariana song lol but also inspired by black eye because it's been stuck in my head the past few days. as always, thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i'm still on hiatus and requests are closed but i randomly had inspiration to write something for vernon so i hope you enjoy! i am planning on writing more for this story, but i'm back at uni and my time is already quite limited, so i'll try to write more when i can! reblogs, comments, and asks are super appreciated, it means a lot and helps me keep writing so please lmk if you liked it :)
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“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”
as usual, that’s how it starts.
you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.
you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice, and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.
at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.
you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.
he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.
every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.
hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.
he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.
he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.
he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.
hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.
he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.
his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.
you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.
he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.
the rest of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.
hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.
“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.
“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.
“i’ll wait with you, then.”
the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same. 
sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.
no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.
finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.
maybe this time will be different.
he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week. 
and you find yourself nodding.
you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.
maybe next time will be different.
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