#but still!! I didn’t expect him to Actually nail himself to the fucking cross!!!!!

[tragedykery]

ok finished the book. what the fuck

[ikissjude]

funny bunny?¿ nrk.

in which bf!riki plays a prank on you for tiktok | tiktok series

riki x reader, fluff, crack-ish, warnings: cursing, pet names, riki is a little shit (when is he never)

riki giggled to himself as he set up the camera. one day, while mindlessly scrolling through tiktok on his phone, a particular video piqued his interest. a couple had gotten into a big argument over the boyfriend having a lot more knowledge on nails than his girlfriend expected. he immediately knew he had to make it with you. 

you weren’t too interested in tiktok, but you also loved to get your nails done. riki would often pay for your nails, even though you told him countless times he didn’t have to. he loved paying for your nails, and seeing what you got whenever you came back home. this seemed like the perfect prank to play on you.

it took riki two days to research more information about nails. he memorized the different shapes, some of the common polish colors, he even asked sunoo the difference between gel x and acrylic nails a couple times. today, riki offered to take you to get your nails done after having such a busy week, saying he wanted to “treat you as usual”. but this time, he wanted to give a suggestion.

riki pressed record and straightened his face after seeing you approach the car.  “hey baby,” he greets you as you settle into the car. “you ready to go?”

“yes, thank you for taking me ki.” he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. “are you gonna get your nails done with me this time?”

“aha, absolutely not.��� he laughs off your request. you’ve practically begged him endlessly to get your nails done together, but there’s no way he would budge anytime soon. “i was actually thinking though, you should get something different this time.”

“really? what should i get?” you smile at your boyfriend. the sparkle in your eyes almost caused him to falter in the moment. he took your hand and spread your fingers apart, pretending to get a good look at them.

“i know you like simple styles, maybe try a short tapered square with a french tip?” he could see your head twitch slightly in his peripheral vision, and it took everything in him to not smile and blow his cover.

“or you could get that funny bunny and bubble bath combo? i saw that and it was really cute, it would suit you well.” this time you snatched your hand away from his grasp. 

“riki, what the fuck are you talking about?” you shrieked. he looked up at your wide eyes, which were astonished at his recommendations. he let a giggle slip, just before pulling it together and feigning innocence.

“what? i’m giving you recommendations.”

“and where exactly have you seen these nails? and how do you know what they are?” you said in shock. riki was right, you liked simpler nail styles; however you didn’t expect him to know anything about nail shapes and designs. “who have you been hanging around?” you asked, squinting your eyes at him.

“baby this is, like, common knowledge.”

“no it’s not? are you seriously trying to gaslight me right now?” you laughed incredulously. 

almost comically, you looked around the vehicle to check for cameras when you caught a red light peeking from your boyfriend’s side. riki knew he had been caught when you turned to him with a smile and flushed cheeks from embarrassment. 

riki couldn’t help himself and busted out laughing, pointing at your sheepish face, and back to his phone. he stopped recording and saved the video to edit and upload later.

“i got you so good, y/n, you gotta admit i did pretty good with this one.”

“i can’t believe you did, i’ve seen this trend on tiktok too!” you groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “still, how’d you even know about any of that?”

“tons of research, and sunoo helped me a bit.”

“can’t believe you got sunoo to help swindle me as well.” you said as you leaned back in the seat and crossed your arms, a pout present on your lips.

“aw, it’s just a tiny prank, baby. besides, i’m still taking you to get your nails done.” riki said, leaving a peck on your cheek and pulling out of the driveway.

© ikissjude 2024

[edenalieth]

ON

Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader

Genre: bff to more, fluff, smut (mdni!)

Warnings: chan is a loud whiny boy, lowkey a perv too, dry humping, fingering (f), unprotected sex (don’t do this please), semi orgasm denial (f) 

Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles…

Words: 3K

A.N: hi it's cami! i think it's the first time im posting a fic so close of an other one haha, english is not my first language so I apologize for the mistakes.. hope you enjoy ♡ — 231105

« Come on, stop moving or I’m gonna mess it up », you sighed, highly concentrated on your best friend’s hand. « As if it wasn’t already » he scoffed. As expected, you glared at him which made him laugh a lot. In fact, the nail art you were doing on him was pretty good. A mix of black patterns, some nails fully painted and you even tried some chrome on an other one. He loved to spend his evening at your house. It was kind of a ritual. At least once a week, you met together to do an activity and relax from your busy adulthood. Tonight was nail salon, as you called it. Then you would probably watch something and he would leave around 1am. The usual. 

You were sitting cross-legged in front of him, wearing one of his old black tee you had stolen from his dressing and some loose sports shorts. If one of your friends were seeing you like that, they would not miss the chance to tease you about it. They always thought that you and Chan were crushing on each other. It was true that you were probably acting a bit odd compared to regular best friends. Always spending your free time together, calling each other daily, being a bit more touchy and cuddly. And saying you didn’t find him hot would have been a huge lie. Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles… 

A bit bored while waiting for you to finish, he was freely looking at you, knowing you wouldn’t catch him. Still concentrated, your lips were forming a pout, he thought it was really cute and held back a smile. What wasn’t cute was the way his shirt, too big for you, was dropping on your shoulder and collarbone. This felt way too domestic. He was about to look away when he noticed it. The way you were sitting was actually giving him a full view on it. You weren’t wearing any underwear… His hand twitched and you started to grumble « Chan Bahng. Please stop moving. It’s the last one. » He could feel his cheeks and ears turning crimson as you looked at him right in the eyes. Did you realize something ? You seemed slightly confused but went back to your work. Why did he had to see it ? He needed to think about something else, anything. « Tadam! It’s done! » you proudly announced, a smirk adorning your face. « You like what you see ? » you were expectant. You thought it was really great but your best friend’s face seemed uneasy. Chan was caught off guard by the double meaning of your sentence. « Y-yea, it’s really pretty. » he stuttered. And it was but something else was really pretty and he started to wonder how it would feel on his tongue… You frowned « Hmm, you don’t seem to believe it. » you stated, arms crossed on your chest. Damn it. His pants were feeling tighter and tighter. He cursed himself. Why was he acting like a teenager suddenly ? « Y/N. I love it. And I would also love some tea. » he said in an attempt to distract you and for him to calm down. You rolled your eyes. « Geez. You men always want everything. » despite your complain, you stood up and went toward your kitchen buffet. The black haired boy almost sighed in relief. He started to scan his surroundings furiously, trying to find something to hide his growing boner. A pillow was resting on your sofa, this would do the job. « Which flavor do you want ? Mint ? Raspberry ? Earl Grey ? » you called him out, bringing his full attention back to you. You were tiptoeing to grab the tea boxes, letting the curves of your butt exposed. This was no good. No good at all. He was glad the pillow was covering him but how much would it last ? He couldn’t stay like this forever. He had to jerk himself off or he would paint his underwear real soon. « Earl Grey, please ». You put two cups of water into the microwave and went back next to your friend. He thought you would stay in the kitchen while he would quickly disappear into your bathroom but you didn’t. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking about your body, about how much he wanted to fuck you right now. 

Getting yourself comfortable, you grabbed the remote to look through Netflix’s catalog in search of the movie you could watch and put your legs over Chan’s lap. When you did so, you felt your friend lightly jump. You looked at him. His eyebrows were frowned and he seemed in a sort of distress. « Channie, you’re okay ? » you were worried about him. His face was pretty red and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. « Yea, why would I not be ? » replied the man with a forced smile. You didn’t fall for his masquerade. « Stop this. You’re my best friend and I know when you’re not feeling great. » you came closer, your face few inches away from his as you put your hand on his forehead. He didn’t seem to have a fever but his skin was a bit moist. He gulped at the proximity. He needed to leave this room, right now. « My stomach hurts a little, that’s all. Maybe, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. » You nodded and grabbed the pillow covering him. « Sure. I’m sorry I put my legs on you. It must have hurt. » you said but his hand had grabbed the cushion as well. You tugged on it harder but your friend was resisting. He seemed all serious. « Don’t. » he pleaded. You came closer to use your full force on the pillow, distracting Chan long enough for you to remove it. « Why are you being so stub— » you didn’t finish your sentence, your eyes travelling from your best friend’s crotch to his face. 

He just wanted to disappear right now and your reaction didn’t help. « Are… are you actually hard ? » you uttered. Fuck. You didn’t mean to say those words out loud but you were so surprised. Surprised, yes, but in a good way. The black haired boy, decided it was time for him to leave, you would talk about it later and brush it off. Just like that, it would turn into one of your inside joke and you would probably tease him about it for a long time. Standing up, he took his sweater but you grabbed his wrist. « How ? » you asked. « Y/N please… This is already really embarrassing… » Chan whined. He glanced at you but you weren’t disgusted or mocking him as he would expect, you seemed rather needy. The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. Was he getting high hopes for nothing ? As if you heard his thoughts, you asked him to sit down again. He visibly hesitated but complied to your demand. With a sudden adrenaline rush, you straddled his lap and put your hands on his shoulders. Your core was so close from his bulge that the fabric of your shorts was brushing on it. Chan was frozen, not knowing if he was dreaming or no. 

« You don’t need to be embarrassed around me. I can help you. » you said faintly. The man was dumbfounded and he felt like his heart was about to burst. He wanted to protect your friendship badly but seeing you being so genuine on top of him made him loose his mind. « Please. » he breathed out, his hands carefully traveling to meet your waist. You set your eyes on him, looking at his features. His brows, his soft brown eyes, his beautiful kissable lips… You cupped his face and softly closed the gap between you. As soon as your lips touched his, you could feel his hands grasping your waist tighter, making you fully sit on his crotch, his moan being muffled by your kiss. « Fuck… » he groaned, « I’m sorry, I didn’t… » he stopped to catch his breath as you slowly started to grind down on him. « Hmm ? » you hummed. How was he supposed to function if you were pushing him into his limits. « Y/N, you’re already driving me crazy. Don’t make things worse. » he inhaled. You gave him another light thrust, the heat in the pit of your stomach dangerously increasing. « Is this not helping ? » you asked with a mischievous smile blooming on your face. You were playing with him and he kinda loved the sight of it. « I don’t want to cum in my pants but into you. » he bluntly replied. A small gasp escaped your lips at his words, his hips lifting up towards you. 

«  What are you waiting for then ? » you whispered to his ear. « Shut up » he chuckled. Placing himself more comfortably, he brought your body closer to him, your bodies meeting each other in a sensual rhythm, your hands on his toned chest. 

Chan was surely gorgeous but little did you expect to get dripping wet just by rubbing yourself on him, still being fully clothed. A sigh escaped his lips once again, his hands sliding to your hips to make you grind harder on him, making it almost painful. « You just looked so good earlier. » he pressed his lips on your neck, « Wearing my shirt as if you were already mine ». You tugged on his curls, making his head fall back. 

« And you got hard just with that ? » you raised a brow, your free hand reaching for his zipper. « You’re not wearing underwear, I saw it when… » another groan as you were feeling his length. It trembled softly. « When you were doing my nails. »

You felt your cheeks getting red. « That’s unfair ! You already saw everything ! » you pouted between wet kisses. He laughed at your behavior while your hands were busy unbuckling his belt. « You can see everything too ». Resting on the back of the couch, he let you unzip his pants. His dick was thick and trapped behind his black boxer. You seized the hem of it, finally relieving the painful member glittering with precum. Chan sighed loudly. From the way his lips were a bright pink or the veins of his hands and lower abdomen were popping, you could say that the view was so breathtaking it had you squeezing your thighs together. Your friend didn’t miss that and started to softly pump himself. « Sinful » you thought, trapping your lower lip between your teeth, hands resting on his lap. You could feel the electricity running through your veins at the way he was staring down at you while jerking himself off. You wanted to feel him deep inside. 

With a breath, you removed your shirt and started to lower your shorts but he stopped you. « No. They stay on while we fuck. » he almost growled those words, making your clit throb. « You can be so bossy sometimes » you shook your head with a smile. He hummed, kissing you with passion, biting your lip, sucking on your tongue. « I always knew you were a good kisser » you muttered. « Of course, I am. Never doubt of it again. » he replied with a smug voice. He started to lower his kisses, going down your neck, your collarbones, until his lips were attached to your nipple. 

You ran your hands through his locks, gripping it and he loved the small pain coming from it. You focused your gaze on his face as you started to hump on him again, searching for something to satisfy yourself, watching his reaction. And he didn’t disappoint, more muffled sounds coming from his throat, making your breast vibrates. After a bit, he put an halt to your movements. « It burns a little. » he sheepishly said. 

« Oh, I’m sorry! » he stopped you from leaving his lap, « It’s okay Y/N, we just need to put this to the side, hmm ? ». His look was eager, his hand waiting for your approval to move your shorts. You quickly nodded. With a grin, he put them aside, leaving enough place for him to touch your sensitive spot easily. « Gosh! You’re so wet that you even stained your shorts » he whispered, amazed. « Don’t say it out loud and do something for it! » you grumbled. What a pleasure it was when you felt his slim fingers sliding down your folds. He never thought this would happen, yet, here you were moaning on his hand. His dick twitched dangerously, some cum escaping at the sight of it. Your hips were unconsciously following his touch, steady and variating the pressure on his palm. When a first digit entered your pussy, you moaned into his shoulder, thighs lightly shaking. « Chan, fuck… ». It felt so good, just by the way he added one more finger, how he made them curl inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit, touching all the good parts of your core. 

« Ch-Chan, can I touch you ? » you panted. You wanted to share your pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to let you do that, he was already too close. However, he wanted to see how your soft hand would wrap around his shaft. Staring into your eyes, he nodded. He removed his digits for you to concentrate on him, which became rather difficult when he put his fingers into his mouth, tasting you. He licked every single drop of it as if you were made of honey. « You’re so hot… » you sighed. « And you taste so good. »

You wrapped your hand at the base of his cock, giving it few strokes. A loud whimper escaped his throat. You kept going, your thumb rubbing the top of it, precum making it slippery. Yea, it wasn’t a good idea to let you masturbate him. « Y/N I’m gonna- » he chocked. He tried hard to hold back his climax, in vain. After few minutes, his seed was all over your hand. « Wow, you truly were on the edge » you teased him. He pouted. « Can you blame me ? I've been horny for more than an hour... » 

He hooked your shorts further to the side. « But don’t think I can’t handle a second round, baby ». His voice was low and you got flustered by the pet name. He had never called you like that. « Make it wet for me, would you ? » he asked with an unsteady breath, bringing your hips down. Finally, your pussy was getting some attention, rubbing yourself on his length was making you lightheaded. You could feel Chan getting hard again under you, not wasting any time. Being skin to skin was even more appealing. You whined at the sensation, begging him to stop. 

« What did you say ? » he mused, lifting your chin with one of his hand so you could look at him. « Stop, please » you cried. He chuckled, « And I was the one being on edge ? ». You frowned but your hips kept moving uncontrollably. You could feel the heat between your legs increasing and, when your mouth started to form an O, your friend rolled away from you. Leaving you clenching around nothing, aching. 

« W-what ? » 

« You have to come around me, Y/N. » he tenderly hugged you, grabbing your thighs to lay you down on the couch. Now towering you, he removed his shirt, letting you admire his toned torso and perfect abs before he got rid of the last pieces of fabric covering his body. You touched his lower abdomen, sliding down his thighs, mesmerized. He couldn't help but smile and kiss your forehead, putting both his forearms around your head, caging you. « Ready ? » he asked, a tint of impatience in his voice. « Yes ». 

Positioning himself at your entrance, Chan started to push into you. You needed to get accustomed to the stretch yet, it felt already delectable. And the more he thrusted into you, the more you could feel your folds spreading for him. The growl he let out was the loudest you had heard until then. He was so vocal and it aroused you like crazy. You always had a sweet spot for men who were not afraid to let their partner know how much they felt good. « Fuck Y/N… you… » Chan blabbered. « Hmm ? » you hummed, unable to make an intelligible sentence. « It’s like you were made for my cock. » he panted. He was completely inside of you now, slamming his hips back and forth against your pelvis. His moans were filling the room and you inevitably joined him into his chorus. You were completely wrecking him, making you both see stars as a second wave of pleasure was growing. « Y/N, you’re… doing so well… taking me… all— ». Your name fell like a mantra out of his lips as he was marking his love into your skin. The praise electrified all your senses, making you unintentionally clench around him. « For fuck sake » he hissed. « Channie… I can’t—».

« Just a little more, baby… I promise. » he kissed you, your tongues twirling, your nails scratching the tender skin of his back. Wanting more, you lifted your hips up to meet his, the new angle giving him a full access to repeatedly hit your G spot. « Oh my god » you panted. Chan couldn’t even speak anymore. Your walls were getting tighter and tighter on him, making it difficult to move. He placed sloppy kisses, on your forehead, your nose, your neck, never stopping to compliment you. Tensed and overwhelmed, his pace was getting slower, creating something new after all that frenzy. That’s when you felt it, rushing through your veins. Unable to resist it, you let your orgasm take over you, shaking between Chan’s arms as he was reaching his own climax, painting your walls. He fell onto you, his head resting on your chest as you were softly caressing his curls. « Wow. » he laughed and you joined him. « That was intense » you added. He hummed, breathing the scent of your skin mixed to his own. « Was it helpful ? » 

He raised himself high enough to face you. « You know you’re a brat, right ? ». You smirked, coming closer to his face, his eyes shining in anticipation. « Maybe ». Rolling his eyes, he fell back down on you to kiss you more.

[romaevelizz]

˖ ࣪⊹ Just a bit younger

T.Kageyama x older!blk!femreader˖ ࣪⊹

Sum: While in Tokyo for summer break Tobio gets to practice Vollyball but also see his long distance girlfriend, what a surprise to the team to find out she’s older, and their rival teams manager.

Warnings: not proofread, fluff, flirty, maybe suggestive? cursing,

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

As soon as the team found out their bossy setter had a girlfriend they wouldn’t stop bothering Kageyama, pestering him with questions. As irritating as it was he kept to himself giving the simple answer that she doesn't go to school with them.

“Common I bet you're bummed out you can see your girlfriend huh?” Tanaka teased, earning a glare from the first year.

“Yeah, plus she's gotta be drop-dead gorgeous if you still won't show us a picture.” Nishinoya gawked.

“Or she doesn't exist.” Tsukishima scoffed.

“Well, she does exist and I don't have to prove anything maybe you all will get to meet her while we're in Tokyo,” Kageyama spoke his tone sharp.

“I agree with Tsukishima there's no way an actual pretty girl would date you.” Hinata crossed his arms only to get pushed out if his seat by Kageyama.

That was the whole bus ride, especially after He mentioned she lived in Tokyo. Some of them didn't believe she was real or tried describing her only to fail terribly in describing her appearance. Kageyama of course had bragged about her because he knew she was gorgeous, smart, and funny, even though he would never admit it to her.

The bus had finally arrived at the gym the boys came off the bus only to be greeted by Nekoma. “Took you guys long enough to get here,” Kuroo spoke His arms crossed against his chest.

It didn't take long for Kageyama to find her eyes, hers already looking and him her glossed lips curved into a smile that made his heart flutter his face flushing red quickly adverting his eyes.

“This is our Manager L/n Y/n,” Kuroo introduced her, “she wasn’t with us last time we saw you.” He laughed.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” She spoke offering a sweet smile.

It’s didn’t take long for Noya and Tanaka boy start gawking leaving her to roll her eyes at them, but then she turned to him. “It’s good to see you again baby.” She smiled at tobio.

“Wait, SHES YOUR GIRLFRIEND.” Nishinoya yelled.

“No Fucking way!” Tanaka and Tsukishima said together.

Tobio didn’t say anything his face just beat red as she laughed at his teams reaction, though her team was no different.

“Wow didn’t tell them about me?” She teased now standing in front of him her hand moving his face to look at her.

“I- I did tell them just didn’t show them pictures or anything like that!” he spoke his hand holding her wrist lightly.

She laughed once more, and an embarrassed Kageyama let his head fall onto her shoulder. “I didn't want them gawking over you,” he whispered his voice filled with jealousy.

Her nails trailed the back of his neck soon creating in his hair, her touch making him shiver softly. He missed her, missed her gentle touch and intoxicating laugh, the way she smelled. Everything, as embarrassed as he may get he couldn't care less right now, His face in the nape of her neck.

“I missed you..”

She moved his head up “I missed you to love,” he likes meeting his cheek.

It didn't take long for the moment to be ruined “You're dating a first-year.” Yamamoto spoke.

She turned around “Yeah? What about it weren't you Messing around with a first year?”

“Thats different.”

“It's not.” Kuroo and her said in unison.

The rest of the night went on as planned, everyone settled in their rooms, the coaches setting rules, and now everyone was at dinner. Tobio teams non-stop talking about himself and his girlfriend, they definitely weren't expecting her to be older mind you, of color. They just didn't see him as the type, but he was.

At the dining hall, he didn't see her sitting with the rest of the managers, so with his tray, he began to walk out the doors, and there she was filling up water bottles. “How come you aren't eating?” his voice obviously startling her.

“Oh, um i just over heard some guys were gonna practice in the gym after dinner so filling bottles uo before then,” she spoke watching him step closer.

He hummed, she must have heard Hinita talking about it. “Could we eat out here i can make you a trash and be right back…” he offered, his voice shaky.

She smiled up at him the sunset reflecting on her eyes and completion so beautifully. “Why are you so nervous huh Tobio..” she said looking through her lashes stepping closer to him.

“I'm not!”

“Mmhm wanna give me a kiss than before you go in?”

He nodded placing his tray down, giving her a quick kiss only for her to pull him back by the shirt. Oh! Oh.. She tasted like shea butter he thought melting into her kiss. Pulling away he felt all fuzzy, “I'll- I'll go get your food now if that's what you would like.. Can I have one more please..?” he muttered the slightest stutter in his voice.

“Yeah, you want another kiss?” she leaded, he hummed.

“I would, I would like another kiss.”

So she did his weight shifting pushing her against the cement sink, her hand placed on his face as she kissed him again her hands trailing down to his neck scratching it slightly causing a groan from him. Pulling back, their breath heavy as Kageyama stood up straight quickly. “I’ll be back!” walking away quickly only to come right back, cupping her face kissing her lips quickly “I Love you.”

She giggled “I love you to!”

I have no clue how to end this😔 but hope you like it!!

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part nine] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (18+ mdni), nausea (but no getting sick)

word count: 3.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!! ; i know minho is the chef of the group but just suspend your disbelief for this series and pretend it’s jisung

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

The kitchen on the Fallin’ Flower was small, but still impressive considering it was on a boat. Everything was up to standard, as far as you knew from what you had learned from Jisung, and covered in sleek stainless steel. 

You sat atop one of the counters while Minho rifled through the cabinets in search of something for you to snack on.

“I swear we have crackers somewhere around here,” he mumbled to himself. 

“I can just eat the leftovers,” you suggested for what must’ve been the third or fourth time. 

“No! What we had was spicy, that won’t be good for your stomach,” he insisted.

“Was it objectively spicy, or spicy to you?” you asked with a hint of a smile. 

“You wanna go there? The Korean versus the American in heat tolerance?” he challenged. “I’ll have you know that I quite like spicy food.”

“Are you sure?” you said, calling his bluff. 

“You know what, when you’re feeling better we’ll see who can handle it more between the two of us.”

“Name the time and the place I’ll be there.”

“Oh, here! I knew we had them!” Minho exclaimed, holding up a packet of saltines victoriously. 

 You took them from him gratefully and ripped open the plastic sleeve. Minho watched you carefully as you ate. He was leaning against the counter across from where you were sitting with his arms crossed over his chest casually. His features were softer than you remembered seeing them, like he was actually relaxed for once. 

He was always so tense, clenched jaw, stiff posture, you had just figured it was his default. But looking at him now was like seeing him for the first time. 

You offered him a cracker and he took it, smiling.

“Thanks.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” you said back. 

He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s nothing.” Then he trained his eyes on the floor. “Are you still mad at Jisung?”

You sighed and shoved another cracker into your mouth before answering. “A little,” you admitted. 

Minho nodded thoughtfully in understanding but didn’t respond. You wanted to explain yourself, explain that you weren’t just an angry girlfriend but you refrained. You weren’t sure how much of yourself to reveal to him, how much truth you could let slip through the cracks before you crossed into dangerous territory. 

You were a side character to the Han Family, a temporary one at that. You were playing a role, and in a couple of months you’d be written off and eventually replaced. Was it even worth it to open up to them?

“The thing is,” you started, surprising both yourself and Minho by breaking the silence, “I used to do the same thing.” You still did the same thing. “Whenever I slept with a stranger Jisung would lecture me about it, but apparently he was doing the same thing behind my back and it just… feels fucked up.”

“It is fucked up,” Minho agreed. He seemed angry now. “I’ll be honest, I’ve done that too, but he never said anything to me.”

“I know he means well, and he wanted me to be safe, but now it just feels like he was reinforcing some double standard. Do you know what I mean?”

“You mean you felt like he was judging you for something men do all the fucking time?”

Hit the nail on the head.

“More or less,” you said quietly. “I know he didn’t mean to-”

“Even unintentionally it’s not okay. You’re right, he was probably just trying to be protective, but he was still out of line.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No!”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

You nodded insistently. “I should be the one to talk to him.” You glanced over at the clock on the oven and straightened up. “Actually, I should go do that now. It’s getting late.”

Minho looked conflicted, words lingering unsaid between you. But he cleared his throat and offered you his hand to help you down from the counter. You took it and hopped down, almost colliding with him in the narrow kitchen alley. 

Your chests were nearly pressed together, that’s how small the walkway was. You thought that if you breathed you would surely brush up against him. So you held your breath.

“Okay, goodnight,” Minho said finally.

“Goodnight. Thanks for the crackers.” You held the half-empty package out to him to take, but he refused.

“Keep them. You might feel better now, but you’re going to need more food to soak up some of the alcohol.”

“Thanks.”

“Make sure to drink a lot of water, too,” he added. “I don’t want you to feel hungover in the morning.”

You promised him you would and let yourself out of the kitchen to go back to your and Jisung’s bedroom. You clung to the wall in the hallway as you stumbled to your room. You couldn’t tell if your inhibited balance was due to the rocky sea beneath the boat or your own drunkenness, but it felt like the room was spinning. 

Once you found your room you practically fell through the door onto the carpeted floor. Jisung caught you clumsily, saving you from rug burn on your knees. 

“Y/n!” You could hear the surprise in his voice as he hoisted you onto the bed. “I went up to the top deck to look for you, but you were gone, so I came back here- but you weren’t here either.”

You didn’t have the energy to explain yourself so you just held up the crackers that were still in your hand. 

“How much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t know, enough for me to lose the fucking game,” you grumbled. “I forgot to have dinner too, so that didn’t help.”

Jisung grimaced. “Oh, that’s right.”

“Yeah.”

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to stop the dizziness, but it only made it worse. Jisung was looking down at you solemnly, hands on his hips like a worried dad. You avoided his eyes, too ashamed and angry to meet them. You knew that if you did you would start crying. 

“I’m really sorry,” he said gently, after a moment had passed. You could tell he meant it, but a little part of you doubted.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” you sighed. 

“I think I do.” You stared at the ceiling, waiting for him to continue. “It’s because I was an asshole about hookup culture, isn’t it? I always tell you that you shouldn’t sleep with strangers, but I went and did the same thing. And I never told you about it. Does that about cover it?”

Your silence was a confirmation in of itself and Jisung shook his head at himself. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, it really was before I met you. And it’s the only time I never got their name.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, not even convincing yourself. “You can fuck whoever you want, just don’t be a hypocrite when it comes to me. I know you want me to be safe, but I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” 

Jisung looked at you like he didn’t believe that last part but ultimately agreed. “I’ll try my best,” he assured you. “Just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“No more frat guys, please.” You laughed. “I have a heart attack every time I check your location and you’re at a frat house. If you care about my health you’ll go back to athletes.” 

“Fine,” you sighed. “I guess I can do that.” 

Jisung gave you a satisfied hum and took a seat on the bed next to you, pushing stray hairs out of your face. Even lying still, you still felt like you were being tossed and turned. The boat’s steady rocking was doing nothing to help your state. 

“Ji, I don’t feel good,” you complained, holding your stomach.

“Want me to run you a bath?” he offered and nodded towards the door to the ensuite of your room.

“This boat has a fucking bathtub?” Jisung just chuckled and nodded. “Jesus Christ.”

“Do you want me to run you one?”

“Yes please.”

Jisung slipped from your side and disappeared into the bathroom. You heard him turn on the faucet and let the water run until it was hot before plugging the drain. He appeared in the doorway again before you could process anything else. 

“C’mere,” he said and beckoned you over. “It’s ready for you. Call me if you need anything.”

He had left a towel out on the counter for you and turned out all the lights except for the one above the mirror so it wouldn’t be too much for you. The water was the perfect temperature too. 

You felt a pang of guilt twinge in your stomach thinking about what had gone down between you a few hours ago. You’d yelled at him, embarrassed him in front of his brothers, and here he was admitting he was wrong, apologizing, and doing something nice for you. Even if he was in the wrong, you weren’t absolved of all responsibility. You had been the one to let your temper and insecurities get the better of you. 

You blew out a breath and slipped under the surface of the water, letting it overtake your senses. You took your time washing your hair and body, content to sit in the bath until the water got cold and your fingers pruned. 

Jisung was lying on the bed reading when you came back into the bedroom. He looked up at you and smiled when he saw you wrapped in a towel. 

“Cold?” he asked, as if your shivering wasn’t apparent enough. You nodded. “Put your pajamas on and come warm up in bed then!”

“But that’s so much work!” you whined, even though you were already searching through your suitcase for your PJs. 

Jisung rolled his eyes at you and went back to his book. You got dressed and promptly hopped into bed next to him, pulling the blankets all the way up to your chin. 

“Do you think tomorrow will be awkward?” you whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Like with your brothers and stuff, because we kind of had a fight.”

“Oh, maybe a little,” he admitted. 

“I think we should have makeup sex then,” you decided. “And then we can just pretend like everything’s fine.” 

“My brothers are all the way on the other side of the boat, though. It’s not worth it to have fake sex again if they can’t even hear us.” 

“I’ll just give you a hickey this time.” 

“But you’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

Jisung shrugged. “Fair enough.”

You wriggled out of your blanket cocoon enough to reach his neck and licked a stripe up the column of his throat before settling on a place to suck.

“Fuck,” Jisung let out with a surprised shudder. You forced yourself not to think about it and kept going until a nice rosy bruise had blossomed under his skin. 

“I think that’s good, what about you?” 

Jisung stood from the bed and walked over to the mirror to admire your work. He angled his head so that the light would shine right on the mark and swore. It was still pink and raw, but the purple and blue shades were already starting to emerge underneath. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “What am I supposed to tell my parents, y/n?”

“I don’t know, that you got hit with a ping pong ball or something?”

“Like they’ll believe that!”

“I made it low enough so that it can be covered with a t-shirt, just wear your shirt around them if it’s that big a deal.”

“But it’s going to be hot tomorrow.”

“Oh my god, stop being a baby. Yours isn’t even as big as mine was.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“Jisung,” you pleaded, “please just come back to bed already. I’m tired.”

Your best friend relented and returned to the bed, this time slipping underneath the covers next to you. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table and rolled over to face you. For whatever reason, you felt compelled to be closer to him so you rolled onto your side and pushed your body back against his. He took your cue and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you so that he was spooning you. 

You fell asleep tangled together like you had hundreds of times, only for you to dream about his brother.

-

It wasn’t your fault, really. It’s not like you could control your subconscious. The dream was innocent enough… 

You were with your friends in your old apartment playing beer pong when Minho came up behind you and slung an arm around your waist. He pulled you close, kissed you on the cheek once, and turned his attention to the game. 

“Who’s winning?”

“Y/n’s up by two,” Ruby, a girl from your cohort explained.  

“That’s my girl,” Minho said with a wink, squeezing your hip. 

His girl. It rolled off his tongue like he’d said it a thousand times, like he’d say it a thousand more. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed. “I’m tired.”

“What? You’re winning! You can’t quit now,” he insisted. 

“Sure I can.”

“What if I join your team and play a couple of rounds for you?” he suggested. “How does that sound?”

“Fine, I guess. Just don’t ruin my score.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Minho lifted his head to address your friends. “Mind if I take over for a sec?”

“I feel you’re going to do it anyway regardless of what we say.”

“You’re right,” Minho quipped before aiming the ping-pong ball at the other side of the table. He sank the ball into a cup in the upper left-hand corner effortlessly, shooting you a victorious grin.

“It’s not fair that they’re playing together,” Ruby’s teammate whined as Minho scored another point. 

“Drunk and drunker always win,” your friend said matter-of-factly, bringing the plastic cup of beer to her mouth. 

“No, we don’t!” Minho argued. 

“When you’re sober you don’t,” Ruby agreed. “That’s how you got your nickname.”

Minho handed the last ping-pong ball to you. “You make the winning shot, babe. You’re the one that did most of the work.”

The next thing you knew he was kissing you in celebration, swinging you around like you’d just won the World Cup. You kissed him back, but something felt off. You never did this with Jisung- then it hit you. 

“Where’s Jisung?” 

Minho set you down and gave you a look of confusion. “Who?”

You jolted awake with a start, guilt immediately flooding your senses. The dream hadn’t been anything sexual, but you still felt like you had done something wrong. 

Jisung was still holding you, his arms wrapped around your midsection and his legs intertwined with yours, and you suddenly felt suffocated by the position. As gently and as quickly as possible you untangled yourself from your best friend and climbed out of bed. 

Your head was pounding and you remembered what Minho had said about drinking a lot of water last night, and about how you’d ignored it. 

You splashed some cold water on your face in the bathroom, but all it did was get your hair and shirt wet. It didn’t wake you up at all. 

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom you saw that Jisung was still asleep and breathed a sigh of relief. You weren’t ready to face him yet. You knew he wouldn’t know about your dream, but for some reason, you felt like he would. Like he’d take one look at you and know your subconscious had replaced him with his older brother. 

The hickey you’d given him the night before was peeking out of the collar of his shirt. It had faded a bit since then but was still noticeable. You wondered if anyone would say anything about it. 

-

“Jisung, what the fuck happened to your neck?”

You nearly spit out your drink when you heard Felix ask his twin brother the question in front of everyone. 

Jisung turned bright red and automatically looked to you, even though you were screaming at him not to with your eyes. 

“I, um, burned myself,” he sputtered.

You wanted to tackle him to the ground. What happened to the pep talk you’d had with him yesterday about this very scenario?

His parents thankfully looked uninterested, but Felix just smirked. Minho had raised his head from his phone, but you couldn’t read his expression. He was paying attention to his brothers’ conversation but seemed annoyed. You thought he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to clown his younger brother, but he was acting like he couldn’t care less, like he wanted them to stop talking about it altogether. Felix had to fly solo on this one.

“I didn’t know burn marks could be purple.”

“You learn something new every day,” Jisung said through gritted teeth. 

“Mhm, you sure do,” Felix mused, biting his lip to keep from smiling too wide.

-

You only had one more day on the boat, then one day in Venice where you docked. Another taxi, another train, another two-mile walk because you got lost and you were checking into another hotel in Florence with the Hans. 

There was barely any time to settle into your rooms before you had to reconvene in the lobby. Apparently, you were already running behind on the itinerary and needed to be in the next location for the day in less than an hour. 

You had hastily changed into your matching t-shirt and walking shoes before dragging Jisung downstairs with you. The couple days of rest on the yacht had made the soreness in your legs subside, but ten minutes of walking through the city had it returning with a vengeance.

You couldn’t even enjoy the scenery because you were too distracted by the blisters forming on the backs of your heels. 

Florence was hotter than Paris, and even more crowded. There were people everywhere.  Every corner you turned had you nearly colliding with another group of tourists who, more often than not, were also wearing matching t-shirts. 

Jisung was holding your hand, but the contact was beginning to feel sticky and unbearable. You let go and wiped your hand on your shorts, earning a silent thank you from your counterpart. 

After what seemed like an eternity Dom and Nikki finally stopped in front of a small storefront with a small wooden sign hanging from the overhead balcony that read Vivanda. 

The second the air conditioning hit you you breathed a sigh of relief and sank into the nearest chair, only to be forced to stand up again when you were all ushered into another room. 

Instead of sightseeing today you were taking a class where you’d learn how to make pasta by hand. Jisung had learned how to make pasta a couple of years ago in his culinary arts program but wanted to take another class in the pasta capital of the world. He also wanted you to learn yourself since you were constantly asking him to make it for you. 

The other students were already waiting in the kitchen for you when the six of you filed in. Your instructor introduced himself as Leo and passed down a disposable apron for each of you. You wrote your names in print big enough to read as he gave you the spiel. He was handsome, a little older, but still handsome with a 5 o’clock shadow and thick-rimmed glasses that were balanced on the bridge of his nose. You had to remind yourself not to stare. 

Jisung helped you tie your apron in the back and then did it himself with the expertise of a practiced professional before you both joined the line to wash your hands. The table was covered with wax paper and in front of everyone was a pile of flour and a couple of eggs.

Leo demonstrated how to create a little bowl in your flour mountain and then crack the eggs inside. He started to mix the ingredients together with his hands and everybody else followed suit. You didn’t like the feeling of the dough sticking to your skin, the texture of the flour was gritty and the runniness of the eggs made it feel wet, but you tried to ignore the discomfort and knead it as fast as possible.

Jisung was finished first, unsurprisingly, and tried to help you with yours. He stood behind you and held your hands in his, pressing his thumbs over yours to show you the technique. 

“Like this,” he said, pressing with a little more force than you had been using. 

“It’s hard,” you complained. 

“That’s what she said,” Felix whispered next to you, immediately followed by “sorry” when you and Jisung both glared at him. 

“It just takes practice,” Jisung assured you, despite all of the other first-time students kneading their dough with ease. 

“Jisung, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were the teacher of this class,” Leo complimented, testing the firmness of his dough. 

“He’s a chef,” you said proudly.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Minho interjected. 

Jisung scoffed, giving his brother a dirty look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

i see skz in a few days and i'm freaking out adkjfhsdj anyway lmk what you think, i always appreciate feedback!

iou tags: @sluttywoozi @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofafangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtoooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands

add yourself to the taglist here!

[ro-sham-no]

Sam fucked up.

Dean had always teased him for being a try-hard at school (with a secretly proud smile he thought Sam couldn’t see or wouldn’t notice, but oh, Sam noticed). He’d tease Sam, saying it would bite him in the ass one day, and now, at Stanford, it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq class he actually liked had given him extra work. It's not a big deal, not really, just reading out his stupid, gay-ass prose about his big brother in front of a crowd of people, all to get out of taking a final... Dean was across the country, so what could go wrong?

cw: wincest, referenced underage sex (barely), questionable prose lol

includes excerpts from "sweetness" - stephen dunn

“I’m telling you, man, they’re gonna expect more from you ‘cause you’re putting in all this extra effort.”

Dean was speaking in that slow, crooning voice that he always got when they were alone together in the quiet, like he was afraid to break the silence but still wanted to fill up Sam’s head with the sound of his voice so bad that he couldn’t stop himself. As if the way he was smoothing his hand up and down the breadth of Sam’s bare ribs and stomach - all palming and grabby, groping at Sam like he owned him - as if that didn’t already nail Sam’s focus and affection to the cross of their shared devotion. As if he needed to do anything at all, other than exist, to completely own Sam from the inside out.

Sam shook himself out of his trance to respond, huffing that scoff-laugh that only little brothers manage to pull off, reaching up to trap Dean’s hand against Sam’s stomach, splayed and possessive but finally stilled so Sam could actually think for a second. But before he could come up with a counter, Dean continued, sweet and slow in his ear, like syrupy molasses that’s just warm enough to drip and run down the spoon, 

“I swear, if we stayed in one place for longer than it takes Dad to fuckin’ blink, they’d have you up to your ears in extra work by now.”

Sam hummed at that, all smug younger brother proving a point, “Well I guess it doesn’t matter then, huh, Dean? ‘s not like the old man’s that old, his blinks aren’t slowing down anytime soon,” said with a finality that shut Dean up, finally granting Sam some goddamn peace as they basked in the feel of each other’s bed-warmed skin.

And that was that. Still, they rehashed it a few times, here and there whenever it got brought up.

Sam flicked Dean’s hand off his shoulder because, “I need to finish my homework, Dean. There’s a quiz on it tomorrow,” providing the perfect opportunity for Dean to bring up that old argument once again. Calling him a try-hard and a teacher’s pet, distracting him enough to bully him into their bed, away from his homework, and suddenly enveloped in the warm arms of his older brother - devious bastard that he was, dammit. 

Sam always got 100s on those quizzes, anyway. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the chase, the thrill of seeing Dean be jealous of a piece of fucking paper and a pen before Sam caved and they fell together oh-so-sweetly.

But that was then, when the metaphorical speed of Dad’s blinks still kept them flitting from place to place. Now, Sam had already been in this place for 9 months, consecutively, and he was in for at least another 3.25 years. Four years he would be here, and that’s where Sam fucked up, forgetting his “wise” older brother’s warning (because he’s not here to remind me), and it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq that he actually liked, Dr. Morris, had given him extra work. All because,

“This is really something special, Sam! I really think people deserve to hear it.” She saw Sam begin to protest but cut him off, continuing, “From the author’s mouth, don’t give me that. That’s you, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten. C’mon, the literary arts event is next week and they’ve been asking me to fill an inspired composition spot. I think this is the perfect work to fit right in, with the way you’ve expanded on Dunn’s poem, interpreting meaning from it and making it your own- just, Sam, I seriously want you to consider presenting it.”

“It” was an assignment to write a piece about or inspired by one of the poems Dr. Morris had covered in class recently. One of them had tugged at Sam’s recently-shredded heartstrings, and so he wrote something inspired by it - so sue him if he wrote a little prose, alright? But, Christ, it was soft and mushy and it was horrifically revealing. But he didn’t have time to redo it, so this was what he was stuck with.

Damn, she’s really trying to sell this, Sam thought with a sigh. 

Once again, though, his professor cut him off, this time with a conspiratorial look on her face, “Besides, a little birdy told me that the final for this class might be optional if you participate in the event…” 

Well, that’s just diabolical.

Sam pinched his nose with yet another sigh, arms clutched around his notebook, which conveniently contained the exact literary “work” Dr. Morris had been raving about for the last ten minutes. All Sam had wanted to do was to make sure that it fit what she was expecting for the homework prompt before he turned it in, and then she’d trapped him.

He really did hate taking tests for this class, too, and she knew that. UGH.

“Fine, Dr. Morris, you win! But that little birdy better be tellin’ the truth or another little birdy is so gonna write the meanest course review this school has ever seen, I swear to god,” he pointed his finger at her accusingly, eyebrows raised in faux intimidation.

She laughed along with him at his empty threat, holding up her hands in mock surrender with a gasp, “No, not an angry student review! What about my career?” 

She sobered a little, “The birdy is telling the truth, Sam, I promise. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam nodded with a rueful smile, “I know. Thank you, Dr. Morris, I’m uh- well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

It was worse. So, so much worse. God, Sam fucked up, colossally.

Somehow, his friends had gotten wind of his little performance - something about a poster with his name on it? (Damn you, Dr. Morris!) - and now Sam was about to go on stage and make a fool of himself in front of both liberal arts and now STEM majors alike. Four STEM majors, specifically, his “friends,” and he was never going to hear the end of it after this. 

I’m not even out to these people, what was I thinking? They’re gonna know, now. Sure hope they’re fuckin’ cool with it.

And, beyond that, he’d only read through the piece a total of two times without crying like a fucking baby. Reduced to hiccupping sobs over the stupid poem, and over his stupid feelings laid bare on the page, and over his stupid fucking brother that he’d basically broken up with when he came here like the incestuous freak that he was, and-

Goddammit.

Sam pinched viciously at his thigh through his pocket to stop his eyes from prickling.

This is gonna be a disaster.

But the final would be worse, Sam was sure, and he didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Morris - like the total sucker that he was - so he was gonna man up and do this thing.

The person on stage before him finished up their piece and, is the crowd seriously fucking snapping? Jesus Christ, these people are pretentious. Thankfully, pretentious or not, the event wasn’t that formal. They were just outside on a small stage, with standing and sitting room in front of it. Casual. Easy.

Yeah, right.

Still, Sam steeled himself and stepped out onto the stage as prompted, calmly raising the height of the mic stand while the event coordinator introduced him to the audience, “Thank you for that wonderful reading. Now stepping on stage is Sam Winchester, with a literary reading of his work, inspired by the poem “Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn.”

Sam cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, “Ah, thank you, for that introduction. So… this is just a piece I wrote based on that poem, which uses the term “sweetness” to describe more than just sensation - to me, it describes a feeling, an emotion, and even a person. That’s something that really struck me, and is the basis of what you’re about to hear.”

While he was speaking, he scanned the crowd and- yep, there were his friends, waving and cheesing so hard it made his own mouth twitch a little in response, amused at their amusement. Still, there was this odd feeling, almost like… nevermind.

He cleared his throat again, purposefully this time, and began, “Often, a sweetness comes and changes nothing in the world, except the way we stumble through it. Our sweetness, the one we make between us, changes the world - my world -  because of the way you envelop me entirely. The sweetness between us changes the world, shrinks it down to the size of your mouth, to the size of your hands.”

Images flash in Sam’s mind: silver ring; cupid’s bow; black bracelets on twin right-wrists, like their own secret wedding bands.

“But the world is no smaller for it, even though it’s shrunk to fit the shape of your body. 

It’s still ever-expansive, always with something new to explore. New gasps to wring out from the valley of your mouth. New ways to bruise and mar the landscape of your skin, changing its terrane to map out the topography of our love, our sweetness, and the way it blisters between us… 

Staining, always staining.”

Golden skin that’s littered with scratches, hickies marring it in impossible places, and freckles that reach out to Sam like starlight.

“Some days you believe it stains us down to the soul level. Those are the days I spend sick with heartbreak because those are the days you won’t touch me. Those are the days you won’t touch me, when you can’t even bear to look at me, littered as I always am (and how I always want to be) with the stains of our shared, world-changing sweetness. You see the stains on those days and, instead of cherishing them the way I would bid you to, you are sickened by them.”

A memory, now,

That beloved cupid’s bow stretched out in a self-deprecating sneer, “This is wrong, Sam! God, look at what I’ve done to you, I should be fucking locked up. You don’t even want this, you can’t!”

“Even worse, you’re saddened by them, the stains that I cherish, convincing yourself that you’ve doomed me by them. On those days, you believe you’ve doomed me to an eternity of fire and brimstone, even though the only God either of us truly believes in takes on the form of the finger-shaped bruises you leave on my thighs and the teeth-sized scars I’ve left in your skin.”

The stains, god, the stains: tear tracks on freckled cheeks, red and puffy eyes so unused to crying, bloody knuckles from losing to brick walls.

Sam’s eyes prickled. One hand went from the podium to his pocket and gouged its nails into flesh, welts forming on top of already-present bruises.

He cleared his throat again, blinking harshly, “But even if that were true, that you have doomed me, my love, then please: let me be doomed. The truth is that I am doomed. I am condemned by the shade of your eyes, by the strong elegance of your wrists, and the way your head tilts when you focus that I’ve never told you about.

I am doomed by the sinuous-sinful curve of your lips and your waist, by the crinkles caused by your breathtaking smile, and by the shade of reddish-orange on your teeth when you consume me. I am stained by these things, and for that, I am doomed.”

Sam's fingernails were digging into his skin through his pocket, but he still had to pause to sniffle off to the side, hopefully out of the range of the microphone. But the movement of his head let his peripherals sweep over the crowd and, there- the feeling from before was back, or maybe it was just stronger, now, never having left. 

The feeling that he was being watched, but not just by anyone. It was a feeling he’d memorized during late nights with the lights out, not seeing but nevertheless knowing that Dean was watching him, staring at him, in the dark. And that’s what it felt like, now, but that’s impossible… right?

He continued, “I am stained by our sweetness, and so are you. We are stained and left wanting, always wanting, because there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient to leave us sated, never to be needed again. For that, there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient, because it comes as if on a loan, ripped away at a moment’s notice. Re-possessed with an interest rate that leaves us desolate and bereft.”

His eyes were tearing up actively by then, and he knew it, but he couldn’t spare the thought to worry about it. Not while he was overwhelmed with DeanDeanDean, trying so desperately to avoid looking in that corner but- the figure ducked behind a group of people stuck close together, and wasn’t that just telling? Telling, but also heartbreaking, because,

He won’t answer a fucking phone call, but he’ll haul ass across the country in two days to come see me read some half-assed prose?

Sam regularly tracked Dean’s phone, see, so he knew where he was two days ago: middle-of-nowhere Indiana. How the hell he had heard about Sam’s current predicament? Sam couldn’t even begin to guess. But he’d learned of it, somehow, and had driven thirty-four out of the last forty-eight hours to get here and watch Sam fall apart on a sound stage, California-tanned cheeks lit up in the golden evening light and soon to be glistening with tears that he couldn’t seem to stop from forming.

There’s no way he doesn’t know this is about him. Fuck. It’s Dean, he’s here, and he’s hearing me turn whatever the fuck we had together into this flowery, perfume-tinted crap. Fuck.

He came to see me. He’s here. Fuck.

Sam searched for Dean in the crowd without a care for the rest of his audience, voice coming out strong and clear as he spoke directly to him, suddenly bold,

“But the loan lender is you, and I, the borrower, the loan holder. The interest rate is your guilt, entwined with your ever-infuriating sense of righteousness, and you rip away the loaned-out sweetness when it starts to make too much sense. 

When the sweetness starts to come too easily for your self-flagellating tastes, that’s when my payments are no longer sufficient. You rip away our sweetness and make it return to its supposedly dark source, the one you conjure up for it in your mind.”

Sam blinked tears out of his eyes and they rolled down his cheeks, but just he didn’t care. 

Dean stood frozen, mouth open and tears of his own making his eyes turn that same puffy shade of pink that it always did. His left hand was rubbing over his bracelet, on the same wrist as always, mirroring the one on Sam’s own wrist. Unsubtly, Sam reached over to shrug up his sleeve and reveal the black bracelet he also wore.

More glimpses of memories, Right hand reaching out to right hand, clasping awkwardly between them but it felt right, so right, to see the claim they’d put on each other stated so loudly, stark black lines so obvious across their wrists.

Dean’s golden amulet gleaming in the light, dragging across Sam’s chest as Dean stayed above him, so deep inside Sam that he swore he could taste it. He shivered at the cold touch of the metal, but all he could feel was warm.

They were holding each other’s gaze, now, and Sam’s face was twisting up as he tried desperately to choke out the next words, tried to reach out with his brain waves to shove them into Dean’s own skull, to make him understand,

“But-” he sniffled again, into the mic this time, “But as for me, in the end, I don’t care where our sweetness has been, within the depths of your mind. I don’t care what bitter road it’s had to travel, through the muck and the mire of your unfounded shame, your self-made sorrows and imaginary transgressions.”

Sam was one step away from weeping at that point, voice strangled and cracking intermittently as it rose in pitch, tears streaming all ugly down his reddened face, roughly scrubbed away by a stray hand. This was the most direct Sam had ever been with Dean, a lifetime of silent looks and unspoken words suddenly torn wide open; his ugly, accusatory feelings laid bare, but mixed in with forgiveness, and with yearning for a reunion that Sam knew was never going to happen. 

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Dean looked gutted, and it twisted up Sam’s own insides even more in response. He was clutching his bracelet-ed wrist tightly to his stomach, twisting the strands of it between his fingers in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was shaped with that familiar, guilt-ridden sadness, the set of his shoulders belying his age, making his 22-years-young appear suddenly ancient.

All the responsibility and burdens of a brother, a boyfriend, and a parent- a mother, wrapped up onto one person’s shoulders. Sam could only imagine how heavy it was. 

“Because oh, my sweetness - and that is what you are, what you have been this whole time - when the sweetness finally returns, when you have come back to me, I don’t care how long I’ve been in its absence, or rather in your absence.”

Sam could just barely make out the tempo of the tears streaming down Dean’s face as they fell, though he wasn’t sure if he could actually see them, or if he just knew the rhythm of Dean’s anguish better than his own heartbeat. 

Dean was a boy full of a sadness that was forced to stagnate, forced to fester and rot inside him, never to be allowed out. The rot was pouring down his face from where he stood in the crowd. Sam thought he’d never looked more beautiful than how he looked right now, back in Sam’s life after the longest time they’d ever spent apart.

“I don’t care what bitter road you’ve traveled to come back so far, to taste so good. It’s okay, it’s alright! Please, my love: lower your hackles, you’re on that bitter road no longer. It’s okay, and I don’t care, I’ve never cared, because in the end you come back, and for all of your travels, you never fail to taste so, so good.”

Sam fell silent and stepped back from the mic, smiling that sheepishly awkward, too-dimpled smile of acknowledgement and faux-gratitude to the crowd to signify his conclusion, never quite taking his eyes off Dean even as the crowd hesitantly-to-enthusiastically applauded his work.

Then Sam blinked, and Dean was gone.

[spookyboywhump]

So here’s the first part of a few parts lmao. I did say I started writing the next part. Still haven’t finished it. However I do know how it’s supposed to go and have a plan for it so at least this won’t be a mystery for both of us-

This is kinda more emotional than whumpy. That’s what the next parts are for.

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, discussions of nail whump but nothing actually happens, Zander gets really really sad oops-

***

Zander was silent on the ride back home. Wren shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsettled by the tense silence but knowing better than to make a sound. Zander had lost his fight, he was holding his arm close to his chest, his eye nearly swollen shut. Cain was absolutely infuriated, and neither of them wanted to do anything to attract his attention.

When they arrived home Zander was roughly dragged back to the room, while Wren trailed along behind. They were taken directly back to their cell rather than going straight to the expected punishment, Wren wished he could feel relief over that, but he knew it wasn’t actually a good sign as Cain harshly shoved Zander into their cell before grabbing Wren by the arm and doing the same to him.

“I’ll deal with you in the fucking morning, better rest while you can, mutt.” He sneered at Zander, before letting the door slam shut. Wren couldn’t help but relax now that they were alone, Zander went and collapsed on the edge of their bed, taking slow, deep breaths. Wren sat down beside him, there wasn’t much else he could do. He assumed Zander was just trying to relax after the fight, he knew it had been difficult on him, usually after a fight he wanted to shower and go straight to bed since he’d be so exhausted, but for now he just sat there, his head down, hair hanging in his face.

“That… that seemed really rough, I’m sorry…” Wren said after a while, unable to take the silence much longer. Zander just nodded, though he whimpered softly as the movement caused him more pain. He took a shuddering breath that ended in a choked off cry, and only then noticed he was trembling, only then did he notice something was wrong. “Hey–hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, shifting his position to face him.This wasn’t like him, he’d never seen him like this even after a bad fight. Zander shook his head, crossing his arms over his body as if to hug himself, refusing to look up at Wren. He hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, and when he didn’t flinch away he moved closer, putting his arm around him.

“I… I can’t do it…” He finally whimpered after a moment.

“Huh…?”

“I-I can’t do it…” He raised a hand to tangle it in his own hair, anxiously pulling at it. “Whatever- whatever Cain has planned tomorrow, I can’t fucking do it.” He said, his voice cracking. “I can’t take another beating, or- or a whipping, or anything he has planned, I can’t fucking do it!” He cried, and Wren’s heart just broke. He pulled him closer, and after a moment he managed to coax Zander into laying down with him, the taller man hiding his face against his chest as he sobbed. “I can’t take anymore, Wren, I’m so- I’m so tired, everything hurts, I can’t do this anymore!”

“I-I know…” He said softly, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m sorry, Zander, I know this is too much…”

“I just want to go home…” He whimpered. “I don’t want to hurt anymore… I’m so tired of being tired, I just… I want it to stop…” He whined, clinging to Wren like his life depended on it. Wren felt sick to his stomach knowing he’d been pushed this far, even though he’d been telling Zander he couldn’t always handle everything Cain did to him, it was still hard to watch Zander have to accept that he was only human, and he just wanted to go home.

He held Zander and let him cry as long as he needed to, even as his shirt was damp from his tears, he didn’t care. He played with his hair to comfort him and as he began to calm down, Wren was finally able to coax him into going to take a shower to further relax from the night, and to wash away all the blood and sweat from the fight. He stayed in bed, not like he had anywhere else to go, laying there and staring tiredly at the ceiling. He already knew what he had to do, he’d known since the moment Zander started crying. He wouldn’t say a word to him though, he knew he’d hate the idea, he knew he’d forbid him from doing it, but he didn’t care. Zander wouldn’t be happy with it, he might be angry even, but Wren knew that his body could only take so much and refused to sit by and watch him break.

***

Wren didn’t sleep that night. Zander slept just fine, too exhausted to fear the punishment he thought he’d be waking up to, but Wren couldn’t fall asleep. He was too anxious, too worried, wondering what was in store for him the next day. The sun rose and Zander was still fast asleep, holding Wren like a teddy bear to comfort himself, and after what felt like hours, the door finally opened, startling Wren and rousing Zander awake.

Wren had to act fast, before Zander was awake enough to realize what was going on, and before Cain could storm over and drag him out of bed to do god knows what to him. Cain had barely taken a step in the room before Wren had managed to slip out of Zander’s grasp, practically falling off the bed to drop to his knees in front of Cain, stopping the man from going any further. He kept his head down, trying to show him the most respect he could, and since Cain didn’t immediately kick him out of the way, he assumed that he was willing to see what he was trying to do.

“Please- please don’t hurt him, sir.” He said, trying his hardest to speak calmly and clearly.

“Wren-” He heard Zander start as he began to get up, but Cain cut him off.

“No, let the pup speak.” He said, sounding amused. “Go on.” He told him.

“I-I don’t- I don’t want to see him hurt anymore,” He said, leaving out that he knew Zander simply could not take it, “I’ll take his punishment for him, if that’s okay, please…?”

“Wren, no!” Zander snapped. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He felt Zander grab his arm, as if to pull him off the ground, but he quickly yanked his arm away, keeping his head down. “Stop it! Sir, you can’t listen to him, please-”

“Shut up and sit down.” Cain ordered him. “I’m considering going easy on both of you, if he really wants to do this.”

“I do!” Wren insisted, finally looking up at him, hoping that his expression conveyed just how serious he was.

“Alright, then.” He said, and Wren almost let himself relax, but then he continued, “What do you think an appropriate punishment would be?”

“Huh…?”

“I’m letting you pick your punishment, stupid. And don’t be a bitch about it either, or I’ll make you both fucking regret it.” He warned.

“I thought you were going to go easy-”

“Zander, if you open your mouth one more time I’m going to rip off every one of his fingernails. And if that’s not enough, I’ll take a lighter to the nail beds afterwards.” It certainly shut Zander up, and Wren nearly gagged at the thought of it, instinctively clenching his hands into fists. “Now, pup, what do you think your punishment should be?” He asked.

Wren took a moment to think about it. He knew it had to be bad, it had to be fun. If Cain thought it was boring then he’d get his fun out of both of them, and that’s exactly what he was trying to avoid. He briefly considered asking him to just go ahead and rip his nails off, but he knew that was a worst case scenario, if Cain went through with it then it could seriously limit his ability to fight, and that wouldn’t do them any good. He knew he didn’t have forever, his thoughts were racing, and finally, he looked up at Cain, asking him if he’d lean down so he could whisper it to him. He didn’t want Zander to hear. Cain seemed to think it was funny, but he humored him, he knelt down and let Wren lean in and whisper it to him, only to immediately pull back, looking at him, shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked. Wren’s heart sank immediately, he’d made the wrong choice, he’d messed this up, now they were both going to pay for it, Cain was looking at him like he’d grown a second head- and then he smiled. Cain’s smile normally wouldn’t put him at ease, but this time it did. “You’re a weird fucking kid, you know that?” He laughed. “I think that will be perfect. Now get up, let's get it over with.” He told him.

“Wren, what did you tell him?” Zander asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, getting to his feet.

“Of course I’m going to fucking worry!” He snapped.

“Well don’t! I-I’ll be fine, okay? Don’t worry, just… rest. Please…?” He asked, looking up at him hopefully. Zander didn’t look convinced, he just looked even angrier, but there wasn’t time to fight or argue as Cain grabbed Wren by the collar, causing him to stumble as he was roughly dragged from the room.

The door was shut before Zander could attempt to follow them, separating them completely until this was over. Wren didn’t want to do this alone, but he knew that he had to. He just desperately hoped that doing this at all had been the right choice.

[sunshinescribes]

All I Wanted Was You

Pairing: Okoye x Attuma

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alt!Attuma & Alt!Okoye, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Second Chance Romance, Makeup Sex

Summary: Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small. Except Okoye. Beautiful, incomparable Okoye. Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away?

Attuma had always been a fighter.

His mother often told him so, recounting how he had come into the world kicking and screaming, so full of life despite the uncertainties of her doctors.

She had whispered his name as he cried in her arms.

Attuma. Mighty one. Warrior spirit.

And how right she had been as he slowly grew from a temperamental baby to a young boy fierce enough to chase away the older kids. From a boy to a man who had been graced with imposing height and a thick build that made his family joke about his legitimacy.

His transition to adulthood had been surprising, especially to his mother who fondly remembered how Attuma once fit in the palms of her hands. He had grown, but his nature remained the same.

Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small.

Except Okoye.

Beautiful, incomparable Okoye.

The love of his life.

Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away? When the space between them grew until it was impossible to cross—until it felt like they were miles apart, and words couldn’t mend what had been lost?

It had happened slowly like all painful things do.

The arguments came first, petty little debates that somehow managed to go beyond what either of them had expected. Okoye would switch to Xhosa halfway through, and Attuma would stomp away muttering in his native tongue. They’d find each other later, murmuring their apologies while at the height of their ecstasy—Okoye rendering Attuma speechless with her mouth, Attuma turning her into a quivering mess with his thick fingers.

Distractions.

A way to wash away the tension without facing the actual issue. Little moments of peace disguised as salvation.

Next came Okoye shutting herself off, slowly pulling away. She became too busy with work. Too busy to be around. Too busy for their trip to the Yucatán Peninsula. Attuma had seen it for what it was, saw the cracks long before everything shattered, but he held onto the hope that if he gave her the space she seemed to seek so desperately, all would be well in the end. If it was what Okoye wanted, he would give it to her. He would have given her anything.

She needed you. She needed you, and you weren’t there for her. Not really.

Attuma could see the fault of his inaction now. Months later, miles away from her. He laid awake thinking of Okoye. Thinking about her cold exterior that hid a sweet, soft soul. Her love was not given freely, and what a gift it was when it was earned.

Attuma could hear her laugh echoing in the corners of his cousin’s apartment. Could feel her fingers running through his long hair as he laid in bed, felt her nails scrap his scalp in a way that always put him at ease. He hummed her favorite song to himself throughout the day, the soft lullaby she had grown up with.

Attuma had tried to push the memories away, tried to rid himself of anything that smelled of her, but it was nearly impossible to get her shea butter and gardenia scent out of his clothes. He tried dating again…that had been a bust.

His silent nature was a turn-off for some, his clear disinterest discouraging for others—and he found that it didn’t matter.

They weren’t her.

Nobody would ever be what Okoye was to him.

His equal.

The love of his fucking life.

The revelation was enough to make him a little hopeful—reckless even, as he made his way to the home they once shared.

Attuma wanted Okoye back. Wanted the life they had once shared before it all went wrong, but he could settle on her knowing that he still loved her—that he could never stop loving her…and an apology. One he had swallowed for months. The same apology he had debated texting to her in the middle of the night when everything came crashing back to him, like a wave hitting the shore.

It was late when he left his cousin’s apartment in the pouring rain. Attuma had hardly noticed, and it did little to deter him as he drove through the night until the roads became familiar, and the sight of a house that held everything good in his life came into view.

Attuma was a born fighter—he would fight for Okoye. Fight for her love. Fight for a life that only made sense with her in it.

Raindrops trickled down his face, soaked his dark hair as he approached the front door. His knuckles seemed to tap against the glass door of their own will. The sound of rain hitting the roof and splashing against the pavement did little to ease the rapid beat of his heart.

He knocked again and his heart caught as he heard Okoye call out.

“I’m coming! One sec—”

Okoye stopped as she pulled the door open, her eyes going wide as she stared up at Attuma. She blinked, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

She was beautiful—more beautiful than Attuma had even remembered, and he wondered how that was possible. Her rich, darkskin was radiant under the soft glow of the porch light. Her head was still clean shaven, displaying the traditional tattoos that Attuma had found so fascinating the first time he saw her. His eyes lowered. Okoye wore a simple dress shirt and a pair of shorts that exposed her long, thick legs.

Itzamna, how had he allowed himself to ever be away from her?

“Okoye.”

Attuma’s voice was a low, comforting rasp that ripped her from her own surprise—but it also brought back memories she had been desperately trying to forget.

She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared up at him with a guarded look.

“Attuma.” She glanced at the raindrop dripping down his jaw. “What do you want?”

You.

Attuma held his tongue—he could get to that in time, but for now he needed to speak the words she should have heard from him months ago.

“I’m sorry Okoye.” Attuma could see the flash of surprise in her eyes, the subtle lift of her brows. “For not fighting for us. For turning away when you needed me the most.”

Her arms fell at her side, and Okoye was silent as she considered him. Her eyes searched his, as if attempting to discover any evidence of dishonesty in him.

“You’re soaking.”

She turned back into the house, leaving the door open as she discarded her slippers and walked out of view. Attuma was hesitant, slowly pushing through the threshold, and instinctively dipping his head before it hit the top of the door frame.

The house looked different, more barren than he remembered it, but then he supposed Okoye had done the same thing he had—tried to rid herself of any evidence of a life they once shared.

She sat on the black couch in the living room, her legs pulled close as she cast him a curious look as she held out a towel for him.

Attuma took it with little urgency, drinking in the image of her before him. The memory of her head against his chest flashed in his mind, the book she’d been reading forgotten on the floor as Okoye slept silently against him, warm and soft and completely his.

“You stood in the rain to tell me you’re sorry?” She arched a brow at him, “a text wouldn’t suffice?”

Attuma huffed lightly. He never did anything too small.

“I needed to see you.” He draped the towel over his shoulder, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet clothes felt sticking to his skin. “Needed to tell you I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Okoye stilled; her breath caught as Attuma stared at her with so much sincerity it made her heart ache.

She averted her eyes, slowly lifting from the couch.

“You’re still wet. I might have some of your old clothes in th—”

Attuma reached out for her hand, his thick fingers catching her wrist as he pulled her back to him. His hold was gentle, light enough that if she wanted to be free of his touch she would.

“Okoye, please tell me what went wrong between us.”

Okoye started down at Attuma, taking in the soft vulnerability in his expression, the clear concern as his dark eyes searched hers, and her heart ached. Ached to know he believed it had been his doing.

“It was me,” Okoye whispered as her eyes began to sting, “Not you Attuma. It was never you.”

His brows furrowed as he stared up at her. He rubbed comforting circles into her hand, a gentle gesture meant to put her at ease—he had always been so good at that.

Where he found words lacking, Attuma turned to gestures. Thoughtful touches, a hand on the small of her back, the brush of his knuckles against her cheek—anything to remind her that he was there. He was there and he loved her wholly.

How could she have ever thought otherwise?

“I was afraid,” Okoye confessed, “I thought…I thought you would be like W’Kabi. Like all the people I have loved, and who have discarded me.”

Okoye could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them, feel the barely contained sob that wished to crawl from her throat.

“You were wonderful, and I was scared. If I allowed myself to love you anymore and you decided one day to leave…It would have ruined me.” She sniffled, rubbing away her tears as quickly as they fell.

Okoye hadn’t always been a cynic, but life had certainly made her one. Heartbreak had become so familiar, so expected after W’Kabi and Ramonda. Both people she loved fiercely—one as a lover, the other as a daughter loves her mother. Both had tossed her heart back at her, tattered and bruised.

She refused to add Attuma to her list.

She had done what felt necessary.

She had been a fool.

“In k’iino…” Attuma sighed, cupping her face softly. “My heart is yours. Always.”

Attuma leaned close, his lips brushing against her cheek, kissing away her tears.

He muttered his adoration in his native tongue, each word a declaration as he kissed a trail to her lips.

When their lips touched Attuma knew he could never go back—never be without Okoye again. Never be free of the taste of her soft, plush lips against his, or her demanding tongue running along the length of his bottom lip. He would never be able to do without the feel of her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, as if he might slip away.

Okoye pulled away with a sigh as she rested her forehead against Attuma’s, “You can’t imagine how much I missed you.”

“I can. It was the same for me.”

Okoye hummed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before glancing down at the damp shirt that clung to his form.

Okoye could not stop herself from thinking of what hid under beneath. “Take this off.”

Attuma grinned, eager to do as Okoye wished.

He pulled the shirt over his head, carelessly discarding it to the side.

Okoye’s eyes dipped, cataloging his body as if she were committing it back to memory. Her eyes followed the lines of the scars across his stomach, the same ones she used to kiss gingerly before taking him in her mouth. Okoye’s fingers trailed a path from his neck to the waist band of his sweats.

 Attuma practically shivered under her touch.

“And these.”

He moved with speed he didn’t even know he possessed, pulling his sweats down his long legs and kicking them to the side as he sat beside Okoye in nothing but his draws. The stark contrast between her clothed form and his nearly naked one was enough to make him dizzy and painfully needy for her.

Attuma pulled Okoye to him by her waist, groaning softly as her thick thighs straddled him. She whispered something about his lack of patience as she slowly unbuttoned her dress shirt.

Patience had never been his strong suit.

Attuma pulled her shirt open abruptly, caring little for the buttons that popped and fell to the floor. His sole focus where her beautiful breasts that spilled out. Okoye gasped, slapping Attuma playfully on the shoulder but he only laughed.

“Impatient man.” Okoye tsked, feeling the evidence of his arousal brush against as she grinded against his lap. Attuma cursed in his native tongue as he cupped Okoye’s breasts, groping her soft flesh as she continued to grind into him.

It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough, not with how badly he wanted to feel her again—hear her chant his name as he brought her to her sweet release.

Attuma placed his hand on Okoye’s stomach, pushing her down on the couch as he crawled over her body. He dipped down, kissing her jaw as he worked to undo her bothersome shorts.

They were swiftly discarded besides his wet clothes and long forgotten as he stared down at Okoye, absolutely mesmerized.

Attuma brushed his hand across her clothed pussy, earning a soft groan from his love.

“You’re beautiful.” He slid her panties down her legs. “So beautiful.”

His lips found hers again as he brought his thick fingers to her soft pussy, teasing her has he drenched his digits with her sweet arousal.

Okoye proved her patience was just as limited as his.

She reached inside his boxers, freeing his hard dick—the sound Attuma made was sinful—delicious, causing her pussy flutter. Okoye’s mouth watered as she thought about how good it would feel to have him where she needed him most, stretching her in way that nobody had ever been able to do before or after him.

Okoye pumped him with a firm grip, grinning wickedly as Attuma continued to groan into her neck. His hips stuttering, chasing the feeling of her fingers around him.

If Okoye kept it up he would finish all over her beautiful fingers, and as appealing as the thought was, Attuma wanted to bring her to the brink of ecstasy—wanted to feel her velvety walls clench around his dick. He wanted her sweet release coating him—marking him.

“Want to show you how much I missed you.”

Attuma pulled her hand away, before lining his throbbing dick along her entrance. He slid his hard length between her lips, glazing his dick with her wetness while teasing her soft nub.

Okoye whispered her encouragement, and it was all Attuma needed to sink into her.

They both gasped, acclimating—remembering just how good the other felt, how well they fit.

“My Okoye…” Attuma sighed as he thrust into her. She was so soft, so fucking wet. The squelch of his dick thrusting in and out of her sopping cunt was obscene in the most delicious way, spurred him to pound into her harder.

Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his back as she anchored herself to him, moaning as he fucked her like he was apologizing for leaving her without this—without him.

Attuma brought his arm around Okoye, pulling her closer as his other hand found her clit, lightly teasing her sensitive nub. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth hung open as she chanted his name, and Attuma was lost—completely and utterly drunk on the feel of her.

“I’m never leaving you again.” He rolled his hips harder, thrusting into her as deeply as he could manage. His dick throbbed inside of her, painfully ready to explode inside of her.

“Say it again,” Okoye pleaded against his lips.

She was clenching around him, and words were beginning to get caught in his throat, but Attuma still managed for her.

“Never…leaving you.” He grinded into her sweet pussy, rubbed her clit while she quivered beneath him. “Never again.”

Attuma pinched her clit and she unraveled. Okoye cried out his name, fingers digging hard enough to leave marks as her pleasure washed through her. Attuma fucked her through it, felt mindless as her walls held him, demanding his release.

He got one final thrust in before he was spilling inside of her with shaky legs. His vision blurred, his mind lost in the haze of his euphoria as he came down from his high with a groan.

His eyes fluttered open, glancing down at Okoye with a hopeful smile. She glanced down at where they were still joined, before glancing up at him with a sultry look.

“I see you’re still ravenous as ever.” She playfully chided.

Attuma laughed a full, hearty laugh. Laughter had been rare occurrence during his time spent without Okoye, but now it felt as if he couldn’t do anything but.

“For you? Always.”

Okoye rolled her eyes, and Attuma lowered himself beside her on the couch. He brought Okoye flush against him, kissing her shoulder as he murmured his affection.

Everything had fallen back into place, and for the first time in a long-time things felt just right.

[nightwingshero]

WIP Wednesday (Late Again)

I was tagged by the amazing @detectivelokis thank you hun!

Tagging: @jinfromyarikawa @sstewyhosseini @marivenah @river-ward @simonxriley @playstationmademe @chazz-anova @voidika @shegetsburned @aceghosts @glowwormsmith @madparadoxum @ghastlyrider @direwombat @strafethesesinners @vampireninjabunnies-blog @poisonedtruth @ri-a-rose

tw: blood and violence, just Wren being Wren honestly. 

My jaw ticked as I glared down at her, but her face was made of stone—pure marble as she looked back with her cold blue eyes. “So you’re the one that set that fucking thing loose? That fucking monster that ran around the damn police station, the fucking—”

“The T-00 Tyrant, the Nemesis project, yes I’m quite aware of my work, Ms. Blake.” Imogen Edwards didn’t flinch when she spoke of it, nor did she blink as she shifted, crossing her ankles under the table as she carefully interlocked her fingers—her nails perfectly manicured and painted red—and rested them on the metal table. The glass of water remained untouched and ignored. “If you brought me just to go through every little file regarding the work relevant to any project that I’ve had a hand in, we will be here for a long time.”

I couldn’t tell what pissed me off more—her lack of empathy or the fact that even if her hands were covered in blood, she still looked so perfectly put together. A white button up with a black skirt and blazer, she didn’t look detained by Chris, she looked as if she had just stepped out of the office. “People died in that city, only a handful of people actually survived what you and Umbrella did—”

“And as I said to your overly muscled brute of a colleague, I was explicit in my orders to shut down certain projects due to lack of profit and the overconsumption of resources. Dr. Ainsley Spencer and I spoke in length over the phone regarding it. I wonder, when you were offering her sanctuary to correct her ‘sins’, if she perhaps mentioned that.” I froze and stared at the woman sitting at the table. The metal chrome wasn’t complementary by far, but she still sat like a queen, her head high and shoulders back. As if this was a regular meeting—as if she wasn’t the reason so many of us went through hell. The redhead sighed and rolled her eyes, the first show of emotion since I had stormed into the room and continued with a condescending tone. “That means it was costing too much money and—”

“I know what it fucking means.” I snapped. My hands began to shake as the anger, the guilt, the memories came flooding back. We had looked so hard for her; Chris was so set on getting her so that we could get more information—bring her to justice and get her to cooperate. That was the goal. But I seethed as the emotions got the best of me, images that I had tried so hard to forget came right back to the surface. “Innocent people died because of what you did—”

“Innocent people died due to carelessness of the professionals in charge of the subjects—the professionalism was quite lacking in Dr. Birkin himself as he became unstable. However I don’t expect you to understand things that are clearly above you—”

“And the people you experimented on?” I asked, my tone calmly edged as I took a step closer to the table. “The people in the hospitals? The people you took in for experimental treatment—what about them? What were they, huh?” Guilt ripped through me, but that only fueled my anger. Images of the day we had sat in the hospital and signed the papers, only to see him for the last time as something else entirely.

As if reading my thoughts, Imogen leaned forward with a smug glint in her eyes with a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “No profit, no results, useless. Waste of valuable resources and a damn waste of my time, most of them were dying anyway. They were expendable. It would have been comforting to know that their sacrifice meant something, but nothing came from the information we received from them or the testing we performed on them. I goddamn waste of time—”

It only took a second for my hand to reach out and clutch a fistful of her hair before swiftly, with all my strength, slamming her face against the metal table. A loud crunch sounded with the bang that echoed off the thick walls lined with tile and a one-way mirror. I could almost feel the panic and hear the yelling as they scrambled outside, and it was only another second before Chris burst in the room and grabbed me, pulling me away from her as blood pooled around her. As soon as my grip was released, she raised her head, blood pouring down her nose, dripping onto the table and her shirt, the red spreading quickly through the expensive fabric. She barely flinched, but her eyes blazed.

“Fuck you, fuck you!” I yelled as I fought against Chris, desperate to finish what I started.

“Wren, enough! Let it go!” Chris called, but he just went ignored as Jill and Carlos rushed in, hovering at the door as they watched in shock.

“Do you always treat people like this? So barbaric and unbecoming, what would your father say, Ms. Blake?” I choked as I stared at her, but she just offered a bloodstained smile in return. “Stephen Blake, early to mid-sixties, diagnosed with a disease that was rare even by our standards. I remember his case being quite abnormal.”

Tears fell as I glared at her, hating her and wanting nothing more than to claw her eyes out. “You fucking bitch, you killed him! You turned him into a fucking monster after promising to help him, you—”

“And did you read the fine print, Ms. Blake? When you signed the papers that gave us permission to your father’s dying body, did you or did you not read the contract?” Imogen scoffed, specks of blood spraying over the table. “You signed him over to us, you were told that it was experimental treatment with great risks, and you signed without even reading it, didn’t you? Come now, who really is at fault for the death of your father? The company that attempted to make his last months’ worth something or the daughter that was so tired of him, she shifted responsibility to the first person that offered her a pen?”

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 15

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for their child.

𓅪 Rated: M | 5.5k includes: slight praise kink this one came out of left field absolutely do NOT look @ me, bonding, steph being amazing

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter 15: Snowbird | ao3 - wattpad

In the passing weeks, you find yourself falling easily into their routines. 

The everyday moments you share with them no longer carry an awkward edge, even when you hang out with them on their own. 

During this time is also when the touching starts.

It starts off innocently enough with soft touches while they’d talk or caressing you in passing. So light and so brief you start to think you’re imagining it until, eventually, you can no longer ignore it nor pass it off as a mistake.

It’s casual, of course.

Roy snuggling you into his side while you game, Jason massaging your shoulders while you read to Lian. Even simple things like Roy lightly squeezing your thigh when you tell a joke or Jason’s swift touches along your lower back when you help him cook dinner. 

Nothing more than casual, though. Seriously.

This is why it’s completely casual to have Jason’s hands settled in the crux of your lap while Roy cleans up the remains of playtime. Lian had only gone down for a nap a few minutes prior, yet, to Jason, it's the perfect time to dip into the past.

“Stop moving,” you chastise lightly as you force his hand back into its original position.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters mirthfully, following your demand easily. 

His hands rest back on your skin so you can pick up right where you left off. You can’t deny that the stray pink nail polish that had somehow snuck its way into your surviving bag looks really nice against his complexion.

“I think the last time I did this for you was before the club." You swear he blushes, looking away from you. It's rare to see him actually embarrassed like this and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips because of it. 

Roy wolf whistles, “Trust me, you looked good. You’ve definitely come a long way since cross-dressing while denying your sexuality, Jay babe.”

“I know,” he grumbles as if not used to all the attention. You expect him to joke back, but he just continues to stare at your handy work with a distracted gaze. 

You find yourself going back to Roy’s comment. “Why do you think you denied it for so long?” you ask Jason.

While Bruce didn’t seem like the type of dad to show up tits-out at Pride, he also didn’t strike you as a conversion camp freak either. 

“Even though Dick’s always been a flamboyant fuck, I just didn’t feel the need to show it in that way. I guess I thought that because I didn’t fit some mold, I wasn’t actually gay- bi,” he corrects himself, looking at you with an unexpected intensity. “I’m bi.”

You know it’s a statement completely in line with the conversation at hand, but you can’t help but feel a tiny portion of it is directed towards you, telling you that you have a chance.

You can’t stop the blush that overtakes your cheeks, hoping the dimness of the evening covers it enough to avoid any further miscommunications, “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

“You’ve always been accepting of me, even when I was still figuring it out for myself,” the raven admits.

“Of course. What are friends for?” You smile back at him, but this time, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

•••

“What’s a movie we’d all like?”

“Texas Chainsaw?” Jason offers.

You fake gag. “What about something less gory? Moonrise Kingdom?”

“Fucking boring, as usual,” Jason drawls without removing his hand from his palm where his elbow is propped up on his knee. 

“Hey! I resent that.”

“Keep bickering all you want,” Roy leans back on the couch, watching the tiff go down in amusement, “just know I’m not watching some period chick flick for you and Jason. Not doin’ it.”

You and Jason smack him with the same deadpan glare. He knows you and Jason are always down to watch Pride and Prejudice. 

“Then what do you suggest we watch?” 

“A classic film, perhaps,” he says with a wry grin spreading across his freckled cheeks. “Avatar.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s loads better than any period drama.”

He smacks your arm. “Alright, Wes Anderson apologist.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I am, you fucking creep,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you search through the next onslaught of films on screen. “Lego Batman.” You’re instantly met with a resolute chorus of no’s. “Aquamarine,” you try again.

“How are these titles getting even worse?” Jason grumbles and nudges your shoulder to get you to keep searching.

“I’m just wondering how the ‘recommended blockbuster’ section on here went from Texas Chainsaw Massacre to Aquamarine,” Roy chortles as he shifts next to you, hitting your hip in the process. “Oh, no fucking way. We’re watching FernGully, Jason,” he cuts off Jason’s rant prematurely. “Honest to god, we are watching these elves save the fucking forest. I’m not backing down on this one, loves.”

His boyfriend’s angsty ass blows at the overhanging white hair on his forehead as he flops back against the couch in submission. The force alone is enough to send you sprawling backward with a thud as part of your rib cage comes into contact with his muscular chest. In the disruptiveness of the action, you’ve completely missed Roy’s newest nickname.

“Your one chance to watch, you know, an actual adult movie while Lian is asleep, yet you still manage to pick some dumb elf movie that she’d love.” 

You’ve yet to move from against his chest and are completely surprised when he rests his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in closer. There’s no time to overthink his action before Roy’s laying down across your thighs so his head rests in Jason’s lap. And, yeah, you were jealous you couldn’t nestle your face in his thick, muscular thighs too, but his sturdy arm around you and Roy squirming around in your lap was still fucking bliss.

It's times like these that make you forget about the looming threat of… well, who knows?

“They’re fairies, by the way,” you correct him. 

“Fairies, elves, same shit. You and Jay would look cute as one either way,” he reaches up and ‘boops’ the two of you on the nose.

“Why not you?”

“Well, princess,” he proudly clicks on the film, electing to squirm much in the way Lian does when she gets a sugar rush, “I’m already basically in it.” 

“Let me guess,” you say, booping his nose right back, “there’s a redhead in here who looks nothing like you.”

“Fuck you. Disrespect Pips and me like that again and…” he trails off with a constipated face that has you and Jason smirking at each other. “I don’t know, but fuck around and find out,” he threatens and sits up to try to flick you on the nose in retaliation, but you smack his hand away as you push him back down into Jason’s lap. “Oh, I liked that.”

Jason grumbles something incomprehensible as he turns up the movie to drown out Roy’s annoying ass whining. Meanwhile, your hands retreat from Roy’s body with a speed that rivals the Flash. 

You’re grateful for the distraction, anyway. All the recent touching and lack of personal space is driving you crazy in the best way possible, but damn if it wasn’t dangerous. 

Roy flops around on Jason’s and your thighs, squirming what seems like every two minutes. There's no possible way he’s getting a chub from the animated movie or anything like that and he doesn’t seem to have any previous issues with focus from what you’d noticed in the past. Thus, it seems that the random wiggling seems specifically directed to torture you.

His dumb fucking smirk spattered across his freckled cheeks further confirms this.

“There are dogs that lay more still than you, dude.” You smack at his hip as he begins another wiggle assault. “What’s your damage?”

Roy laughs as he flips over from his side, then to his back to stare at you over his shoulder from the comforts of Jason’s lap.

“I really have to pee, but the part I like is coming up.”

You shoot an unimpressed glance at Jason, who merely shakes his head in response.

“Yes, I’m aware I have two kids. You don’t have to remind me with that smug ass look,” he says your name at the same time he flicks at the tip of your nose, seemingly wanting to be included in all the booping.

Your so-called ‘smug ass look’ effectively drops. Your eyes cross as you stare at his finger that’s yet to leave your nose. Your nose crinkles as if you’re about to sneeze until he finally removes his finger with a small laugh.

It’s not that it’s a boring movie; you’re just tired as fuck.

Roy’s newest thing has been flipping on top of you in the middle of the night. That alone you can deal with, your own personal weighted blanket of sorts, but no. He's Roy and Roy’s annoying as fuck, so of course, he utilizes the position to snore directly into your ear.  

It’s his apartment, so you’re sure as fuck not going to be the one to wake him up. For such a light sleeper, Jason seems largely unbothered by Roy’s roars. Every now and then, a particular snore would have Jason shifting against you, but he seemed to have already grown accustomed to Roy’s irritating sleeping quirks. 

Jason, for the most part, sleeps like a log. 

You’ll sometimes hear his quiet exhales early in the morning, but that’s about it. Recently, he’s been attaching onto you in the middle of the night. Well, at least until one of you gets too sweaty and, subsequently, wakes up. 

Not realizing you’ve drifted off, you’re awoken when your pillow, Jason, moves. Your head falls the short distance to the warmth of the now empty cushion below. 

You always thought you ran cold, at least your feet did, until you started sleeping with two men. Well, really, just Jason, whose body heat seemed to spur your own to exponential amounts. Roy, on the other hand… 

You gratefully cling to the squishy icicle on top of you. The heavy lump groans lightly in response before nestling further into your radiating heat.

•••

It’s light out; you can tell even though your eyes remain shut. 

You know you've all slept in and that it's probably the afternoon, but you still attempt to doze on and off for a few more minutes before you can’t deny the weight on your stomach is crushing your insides slowly. 

A light snore rings out in the quiet of the room, louder than the gurgling of the coffee machine off in the distance.

At the sound of quiet, approaching footsteps, you allow your eyes to flutter open.

You squint against the open blinds only to flush when you find Roy’s fiery, splayed-out locks burning in the light against your chest. You’d probably give in to him right then and there if you hadn’t noticed, more like stopped yourself from laughing at, the puddle of drool he’s left behind on one of your tits.

Jason doesn’t say anything as he hands you a cup of coffee that you try to hand back so you can sit up, but the dark smell of the roast is enough to wake Roy up.

Upon seeing your precarious position, Roy slurps up the remaining spit from his chin and smiles lazily. “Mornin’, princess,” he offers in a sleep-ridden rumble.

His eyes are half opened and his hair's a mess, but you swear he’s never looked so attractive. Your stomach flips and, with the close proximity, you’re worried he’ll be able to feel all the butterflies that are thrashing around in your stomach. 

You’d never really considered your looks: ugly, pretty, whatever. You've just always known the way they looked was out of your league. 

Laying there, looking from Roy’s chiseled jawline to the light wrinkle that stretched a nail’s-width across his forehead down to his tantalizing freckles, you feel way out of your depth. Regardless of the logistics, he’s everything you want.

You should kiss him.

The angelic glow radiating off of him in the morning light, his steady weight on all the right spots, his dopey sleep face. 

You need to kiss him.

Your fingers drag along the stubble of his jaw all the way over to tug playfully at his bottom lip with your thumb. One of his eyes perks open with interest but flickers shut immediately as you tilt his head up within inches of yours.

You’re going to kiss him.

And, no.

The spell is broken when he unleashes a dad yawn that smacks you square in the face with his horrifying morning breath. 

You buck him off of your front to the floor with a disgusted look. “Jesus, Roy.”

Jason snorts, handing Roy his own cup of coffee before he can start bitching.

Lian eyes the passing of the mug enviously, following along with it like an extension of the steam rolling off the top. “Do I get some?” she asks.

“Sorry,” Roy snorts, ruffling her inky hair, “too young, champ.”

Your head snaps over to Lian, who’s playing on the ground next to Roy’s half-asleep form. You silently beg her not to out the one time you let her have half your coffee.

“Trust me. You won’t like it, sweetie.” Roy crawls over to pick up a Barbie that her Triceratops savagely murders as soon as he tries to place it in the toy convertible. “Why won’t you play with me?” Roy whines and quickly snatches away his discarded cup of coffee that Lian had been going for while he’d been distracted.

“Lian,” Jason’s deep daddy-tone stirs the attention of everyone in the room. “Dad said no coffee.”

She looks from him to you with narrowed eyes. You return the look with a telepathic warning that if she ever wants coffee again, she better keep quiet.

You clear your throat uncomfortably as their focus instantly turns to you.

“What?” you feign innocence.

Lian looks from the coffee clasped protectively in Roy’s bionic grasp, then back to you. It seems like she’s about to give in and snitch but realizes the situation at hand and pouts. Eventually, she moves on and nudges Roy’s Barbie with her Triceratops, effectively dropping the topic altogether.

You’re so absorbed in her Jurassic Park slay fest that you don’t even realize Jason’s gotten up.

You’ll never admit it, not like they couldn’t tell anyway, but you startle when Jason suddenly gets up from the lounge chair to join you on the couch. This time, instead of draping his arm around your shoulder, he snakes it around your waist to draw you closer to him.

Your stomach flips as you allow the movement. You follow his lead into his firm body in your sluggish, early morning state. You can’t help the pleased inhale that escapes you, welcoming the closeness easily. You snuggle into his side, drawing your feet up underneath yourself on the cushion to further cement your comfy spot. 

“You sniffing me, little bird?” Jason asks quietly. His eyes flash and he looks down at you quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

You wince, realizing how fragile he still thought you were. 

All those weeks ago, when he’d said it for the first time in years, it had thrown you off. His coming at you from behind also didn’t help, but it had been a one-off event. Never again. You aren’t weak… It was a one-off event, you repeat to yourself.

In all honesty, his use of the nickname this time hadn’t left you feeling any sort of way, so you do somewhat believe your lie.

Somewhat.

“I don’t mind,” is all you say.

It’s enough. 

No one questions you further, though you feel their stares linger on you long enough for you to know they can see right through you.

As soon as you finish your coffee, Lian gets up and tugs you from Jason’s grasp over to the kitchen. 

You laugh lightly, “What do you want to eat, chickie?”

“We’re making scones,” Jason says. He traps you against the counter briefly as he comes up behind you to grab the butter in front of you. He stutters as soon as he realizes the familiar position he put you in and startles backward, “That alright?”

The scones or the position, you didn’t know.

Lian saves you from further embarrassment by being her usual cute self. “What’s sk-ons?” she asks.

“Teaching her the British way, Jay?” Roy’s still splayed out on the floor, sipping his coffee obnoxiously. “Alfred will be so proud.”

You and Lian measure out the flour and sugar when Jason suddenly sets down an ingredient you’re 100% sure was not on the original recipe card he'd given you.

“Bro.”

“What, bro?” Jason mocks you as he begins to stir together the dry ingredients. 

You stare down at the offending container.

“Bro.”

He huffs with faux-annoyance, “I’m not going to keep amusing you by asking ‘what’ again, you know?”

You can hardly look at his traitor-ass when he smugly adds baking powder to the white mixture in the bowl.

“You told me baking soda, Jason.” 

After years and years of lackluster scones, you remain deadly serious as you confront him. 

You'd thought maybe it was you. Maybe your Achilles heel was scones. Not so bad; everyone has one, but scones? If you had a recipe for the best scones in the world, which you did and they still always turned out meh, which they did, then, yeah, you start to doubt your cooking abilities and sanity somewhere along the way.

“Did I?” 

It’s too nonchalant. 

You’re not even breathing as he pours in the rest of the ingredients with their familiar measurements you’d memorized after all those years of botching the recipe.

“You did.”

You stare down the side of his face, noting the smile that hid just below the surface of his scarred cheeks.

When he does look at you, you almost wish he hadn’t.

It’s too… open.

Too tender.

You gulp under his direct attention, hating the way his eyes blatantly follow the movement under the plushness of his inky lashes.

“Why would it be baking soda, babe?” Jason asks, tapping you lightly on the forehead. “You know how to cook. You should’ve noticed that mistake.”

“You’re telling me this whole time they tasted like shi- oot,” you cut your curse off at the last second. You look down at a curious Lian as you attempt to salvage your curse before completely giving up and starting again. “They tasted like poo just because you wrote it down wrong?”

“How is poo any better than shit?!” Roy calls from the floor. “Shit,” he hisses. 

You and Jason exchange an amused glance when you both turn around just in time to see Roy smack himself in the nose instead of over his mouth. Meanwhile, Lian goes over to him to continue playing, seemingly content that breakfast is being made by the two best chefs in the house.

“Now that I think about it,” Jason pretends to ponder, “maybe I did miswrite it on purpose.”

You knew it!

“Bastard!” you hiss.

It’s like your narrowed eyes are fuel-feeding his sickening smirk. How can he find this situation so amusing?

“Consider it payback for slipping Lian coffee.”

“Oh, sure. Preemptive payback for your future child,” you snort in disbelief. “Completely sound logic, yeah?” You move around the island to watch him stick the tray of dough in the fridge to chill. “Besides, it was one time! Only half a cup, I swear.”

“Half a cup?!” Jason repeats incredulously, nearly dropping the tray in the process as he turns to face you. “She’s a toddler!” 

“You know I drink glorified coffee. It’s loads of sugar with all cream, just like Roy.” 

“How do you remember that?” the redhead calls over, then seems to remember you’ve been over enough mornings by now to know how he takes his coffee. What you’d never admit is that, yes, you had, in fact, still remembered from all those years ago. “Never mind, you would have freaky detective skills. I always forget you’re basically a Bat, too.”

You couldn’t help but preen even though you’d long stopped paying attention to Batman and his clan of birds.

“Please, I haven’t trained in all these years. I’m out of practice,” you hesitate. “Well, not that I was ever truly in it, but, well, you know,” you trail off self-consciously, busying yourself by cleaning up the excess flour that had spilled onto the counter.

Apparently, your cleaning methods are too sporadic and Jason takes over by placing his calloused hand over yours. The movements are slow with a firm yet gentle control as he guides your hand across the counter, settling behind you with a warmth you’re steadily becoming familiar with.

You allow yourself to lean back into his warm embrace and force your eyes to remain open if only to save yourself any further embarrassment. 

The coffee slip-up with Roy had already been bad enough. 

“Good, just like that,” he murmurs and gently presses the bulge of his sweatpants against your lower back. You react without meaning to, flushing when you realize you’ve just pushed back into him. “Lian, go help your dad find something to watch on TV.”

“Okay, daddy!” Lian leaps over to Roy, who wiggles upward, accidentally spilling his coffee all over Barbie. He then notices you peeking at him innocently from within the confines of his boyfriend's flexed arms. 

Your eyes hold his impish ones, your mouth remaining slightly open as the situation settles across the two of you. 

You watch his red hair bob when he looks up at Jason, who you assume is also looking at Roy, but you’re too afraid to move and risk the chance of ending whatever this is. 

The moment with Roy on the couch, now this? Hell, you’re scared to blink, let alone move.

Jason’s never, had never, been one to call the shots before. You can’t deny it feels nice to have Roy on the same playing field with this unfamiliar territory. 

Your eyes slip from Roy’s as you allow Jason to shift your attention back to the counter. 

Lian screaming the Paw Patrol theme song long before the actual show starts is all background noise to you. You’re fully present with him wrapped around you so deliciously. 

He lowers his head closer to yours, where he seems to wait, gauging each and every minute reaction. He then proceeds to nudge your cheek with his once he begins to scrub a stubborn spot. “This okay, babe?” he asks in a low voice.

The flour, or you wanting him to bend you over right here and now?

Say something sexy, say something sexy.

“There’s so much flour,” is what you manage to choke out instead.

Awesome.

He laughs lightly with his breath brushing the side of your cheek, “Help me clean it then, babe.”

You nod dumbly, noting how Roy’s left a highly amused Lian to her show to join the cleanup crew. 

“What’s goin’ on over here?” 

You startle away from his boyfriend instantly. The last thing you want to do is step on anyone’s toes.  

Roy merely snickers as he stops off to the side, flipping through the stray mail on the island too quickly to really be reading anything. You’re not completely oblivious to the way his eyes flicker between the papers and you. He gauges your reaction as he steps closer, treating you like you’ll break if they make one misstep. And, hell, maybe you will. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, but he’s already shaking his head before you can fully get the word out.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, princess,” Roy says and gestures back to Jason, who looks- wait, what? Jason glances at you for what you think is reassurance and wish, once again, that you could read them like they could read each other. “Never hurts to have two good housewives like you and Jay’sall I’m saying.”

His wink falls flat as you read way too far into his statement, but he takes it the wrong way. His teasing smile falters briefly at the corners of his mouth before he plasters it back in place like it’d never happened.

Ever since you’d learned about their secret identities, they’d been exponentially more open with you. Still, you couldn’t help but feel like you were still being left in the dark about certain things. That, and you’re more confused than ever about where you stand with both of them.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” 

You shudder. 

“What’s on your mind, babygirl?” Roy asks. He’s clearly trying to see why the mood soured so quickly. Typical, you can’t help but feel like you always bring down the mood. 

You clear your throat as you try to think of a logical excuse for why you’d gone so stiff after, well, after almost saying fuck it and fucking them. 

Now, your mind is somewhere else completely. 

“Just thinking about the attacks,” you lie easily.

Roy nods understandingly, easily changing his approach after the clear shift in mood. “What about them?”

You’d finally gotten around to doing more research on the bombing, but you couldn’t quite get a certain notion out of your head. Now would be as good a time as any to let them in at least somewhat on what you’ve uncovered from the coffee shop security footage.

“I’m starting to think the mugging and coffee shop are all somehow connected to the break-in.” You wait for them to shoot down your idea or tell you you’re being paranoid, but, much to your relief, they’re nodding along as if they’ve already been thinking the same thing. “Just a hunch,” you add with a shrug in case you’re completely misreading everything.

 “We may be dealing with the same set of people, but we can’t be sure. We need to stay alert,” Jason says.

His phone suddenly rings in his pocket and you watch him pull out his non-burner iPhone. The only reason you even know the difference is because he added a picture of the three of you and Lian from game night for his personal phone background. His work phone, as he calls it, is reserved for the Gray Ghost.

You watch his eyebrows knit together in confusion at the contact. The familiar last digits have your stomach filling with anxiety.

Damian.

Jason shoots you a look before wandering off into the bedroom to answer. 

You turn to Roy to see if he has any idea what that was about when Lian seizes the moment to gulp down Roy’s abandoned coffee, spilling it all over herself in the process.

“Etai yazi, no!” 

Jason comes back in the room moments later just as you and Roy manage to wrangle Lian into the tub to clean off the remnants of coffee.

“We’ve got work stuff,” Jason says, looking at the cute scene in front of him with tender eyes. “Stephanie’s on her way over.”

“Ah, so now the babysitter needs a babysitter,” you giggle as Lian dumps a pile of bubbles on top of your head. “Well, maybe I could use some backup.”

Backup and the opportunity for much needed venting.

When Stephanie arrives a little while later, she wastes no time pulling you into a hug. 

“It’s just Auntie Stephie and mommy?”

Stephanie chokes on her spit and whirls around to face you accusingly, “And when did this development happen?”

“I mean…”  Should you mention you were sleeping in their bed in front of their kid? 

Meanwhile, Jason and Roy quietly slip away, having already said their goodbyes. At least this time, you kind of knew what they were up to with their previously elusive duffle bags.

She suddenly shoots you a knowing glance, “Bedtime?”

“Auntie Stephie, no,” Lian complains, shaking her head petulantly. “You can’t just put me to bed to talk about dad.”

“It’s almost eight!” Stephanie tries to reason with the toddler, then seems to realize the ridiculousness of it all and snatches Lian up to place in bed. “Besides, don’t think I didn’t see you yawning, missy.” 

Lian narrows her eyes when Stephanie boops her on the tip of her nose. “I won’t forget this, Auntie Stephie,” the little girl threatens.

“Oh, Jesus,” Stephanie cackles and backs away. “Remind me to sleep with one eye open.” She winks at the pouting cuteness that is cranky Lian. 

She didn’t stay on the bed for too long, though and, soon enough, you and Stephanie were running around the room to grab her. Hey, at least all this running would probably tire her out… Probably…

It's a bad bedtime kind of night, you realize with an exasperated sigh.

Bedtimes with her are always a hit or miss. She's either bouncing to get under the covers and get her bedtime story, or she'll complain the entire hour up until bedtime and refuse to go anywhere near her bed.

“Lian, chickie, come on,” you urge, swooping Lian into your arms and dodge her usual tired swings to place her back on the bed. “We can even pick out two stories, okay?” 

“Two whole stories from mommy?” Stephanie teases until you silence her with a sharp glare. It doesn’t stop her from teasing you at all, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Yes.” Lian crosses her little arms, not understanding what’s so funny.

The running had seemed to tire her out and she finally melted into your arms, allowing you to place her in a sleepy heap under the covers. 

“Two stories, okay?”

“Two,” she nods.

You shake your head exasperatedly before picking out the two books you know she loves the most. 

She’d definitely become spoiled with the nighttime reading for sure. When you first started, she’d been content to get halfway through the book before falling asleep. Now, she'll still be rolling around after the first book and well into the second. It's inevitable that, within a matter of weeks, it’ll have to be three books. Soon, you’ll be reading to her through the night. 

When you’re done, she turns sleepily toward you for her goodnight hug. You forget Stephanie’s still in the room until Lian mumbles she loves you and Stephanie absolutely loses it.

“That is so freakin’ adorable!” You can practically see the hearts forming in the pupils of her eyes. 

When you turn back around, you’re met with Lian’s light exhales. You click on her night light before following Stephanie back into the main room.

“So, two bedroom?” She wiggles her eyebrows at the lack of sheets on the couch.

“Yup,” you respond awkwardly, rubbing at the back of your neck.

“And the ‘I love you?’” Her brows raise teasingly. 

“Yup.” You refuse to meet her eyes.

“Do you say it back?”

The question forces your eyes back to her maniacal-looking ones. “To Jason and Roy?” you ask in confusion. At your response, Stephanie shoots you a knowing glance and you attempt to backtrack. “Oh, Lian. Um, yeah. Of course, I say it back.”

“To Jason and Roy?” She smirks.

“To Lian!” you sputter indignantly as your eyes narrow at her. “You’re good- you know that?” 

“Of fucking course I do, bitch.” 

You both burst into a fit of laughter, then quickly remember Lian and smack each other to shut up. It only serves to make things worse as Stephanie runs around making kissy lips at you, pretending to be Roy and Jason. You both eventually flop into the pile of blankets Roy had left on the floor earlier, surprising her when you nearly meet her joking pout with your soft lips. It works.

She ruffles lightly, backing away with a smack to your shoulder and a joking curse. Still the same ol’ Steph. 

“So, besides taking two dicks at once and calling me for a ride a city over without ever explaining, what’ve you been up to?” Her expression lets you know she isn’t going to let you off the hook this time. 

Figures.

“Well, I got mugged," you start listing off on your fingers, "got stuck in the middle of a hold-up in a cafe and oh, yeah, my apartment got blown up,” you sigh. “Didn’t even get to celebrate my 20th birthday all those weeks ago.”

“Damn, that’s a lot,” Stephanie says with a wolf whistle. "You know, I always forget how much younger you and Damian are than me.”

“Me too,” you admit, even though it's just by a year. “You asked about that day Damian invited Jon and me to his yacht?”

“Bruce’s, but go on,” she teasingly corrects, leaving you to giggle.

“Everything seemed like our usual bickering at first until he just blew up.”

“He just blew up randomly?” she questions suspiciously.

You think back to that day. “Well, I guess it happened after I mentioned Jason and Roy.”

“Dude," she drawls as if it's obvious, "he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?” you repeat dumbly.

Stephanie shoots an unimpressed look your way. “You were smart enough to be in my grade, don’t play coy. He’s been in love with you since he brought you home that first week.”

“First week?” you repeat dumbly again.

“Yeah,” she snorts that she can’t believe you haven’t already worked it out. “When we were walking home together?”

“Oh, god, Steph,” you exclaim, your head falling to your hands. “I really fucked up.”

All those years of being a fucking hypocrite. 

“Mhm,” she nods. “And?”

“And,” you pout, lifting your head up to meet her encouraging smile, “and, I… I just want my friend back.”

Stephanie says your name, “Do you know how to be his friend without leading him on?” 

Her question is pointed and leaves your stomach churning uncomfortably. If it were anyone else, you’d probably get up and leave, but with Stephanie, you appreciate that at least she’s asking the deep questions. 

It’s something you wish you’d asked Jason and Roy back then. There's no way they didn’t know they fucked up, but even though you’d been young, so had they. 

Was being an adult realizing everyone was always a bit in the wrong? 

Ugh. 

That whole time you’d been lamenting about them using you, had you inadvertently been using Damian the exact same way?

“I feel like everyone in this family leads people on.” 

Her laugh startles you, “Oh, see. Sometimes I forget you’re an honorary Bat until you say some real shit like that.” She sighs as she looks over your pouting form, “Girl, just go make it right.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?!” you exclaim in exasperation. “You know how he is."

"Yes, and you know how you are," she insists. "What are your goals?"

You think hard on it before speaking, “I don’t want to lead him on anymore. He means too much to me as a friend. He’s been there for me through everything and the last thing I’d want is for him to resent me.”

"Then, go talk to him before it gets to that point," she trails off like it's obvious. 

Maybe it has been completely obvious and you’ve just been blind to it this whole time. 

“Steph, you’re a genius!”

“Finally, you see the light,” she says with a roll of her eyes before shoving your phone back into your hand.

When he'd told you to figure it out, you sure as fuck didn’t expect it to take you this long to piece together something so obvious, yet here you are. 

I understand now. 

Your text is read instantly. 

You’re barely able to blink as text bubbles appear, then disappear and his response overtakes your screen.

Come over. 

A/N: the song for this chap (snowbirds by anne murray) for some reason is what inspired this entire fic lol

[next]  ||  masterlist ||  pinned || ways to support

[genyasglockk]

warnings: brief mentions of suicidal thoughts. like very brief. this is a steve whump. nothing super awful but i do make my boy very sad.

Nobody was there to celebrate Steve Harrington finally getting his high school diploma. Steve didn't look out to the crowd and search for familiar faces when he walked across the stage. He knew he wouldn't find any. Nobody came to the ceremony just for him. There wasn't an uproar when his name was called. There wasn't anyone proudly shouting that's my boy! Steve wasn't anyone's boy. He was barely anyone's son. After the final speeches and the "congratulations class of '85. you've made it. we know there's so much in store for all of you," Steve drove himself home. He pushed through the clusters of families and slowly made his way to his car. He tucked his diploma into the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot. The radio didn't play, and Steve didn't notice.

He decides to stop at the diner and treat himself to some pancakes to go. When the waitress brings him his box of food, she smiles and asks "Oh, you just graduate? Congrats! These are on the house then, big guy." Steve had forgotten he was still wearing his cap and gown. He desperately wished he'd remembered to take them off as he sat in the car and tried not to cry over the fact that some stranger decided to be nice and give him some free shitty pancakes because he graduated and that's something worth celebrating. Steve had spent every day for the past month telling himself that he didn't care about people celebrating him today. He didn't care. He didn't want anything from anyone, and he didn't need anything from anyone. Especially not today.

He graduated from high school. Big fucking deal. Plenty of people get that done all the time and they do it way better than he did. Graduating was something he was supposed to do. He wasn't special. Today was not special. It's not like he fought tooth and nail to be able to walk across that stage. It's not like earning his diploma felt more special than surviving literal monsters did. Because Steve hadn't expected to graduate. He hadn’t expected to scrape by the way he did. When he realized he’d actually passed, he was surprised. The kind of surprise that wasn’t present when he survived his first Demogorgon. Don’t get him wrong, the thought of holy shit I’m gonna fucking die had most definitely crossed Steves mind a few times during every encounter with the Upside-down, but deep down, Steve knew that some interdimensional monster wouldn’t be the thing to end him.

That would’ve been too kind. Too merciful. Life was too cruel to Steve Harrington and that’s why he was so sure it wouldn’t let him have the easy way out. Steve wasn’t suicidal. He’d never kill himself. His will to live was just weaker than others. The only reason he tried so hard to keep himself alive was for the sake of protecting his kids.

The diploma in his passenger seat meant more to him than the life flowing through his veins. And wasn’t that just sad? 

The drive home was long and silent. Steve could barely remember pulling into his driveway and making his way to the front door with his pancakes and diploma in hand. He didn’t come back to himself until his back hit the couch. 

The house was as quiet and sterile as he left it. Pathetically, a small part of Steve, the part of him that was still young, had thought that maybe his parents would come around this time. That he’d see his dad’s car parked out front and his parents would be waiting for him inside with a cake. Waiting for him with a kiss on both cheeks from his mom and a pat on the back from his dad. As if his parents had ever bothered to do anything like that before. As if they’d care.

Steve opened his box of food and decided to dig in with his fingers. He chewed quietly and stared forward at nothing. His pancakes had gone cold. He was still wearing his cap and gown. 

“Congratulations to me.” 

[choking-on-tae]

ATEEZ Reaction to: You loving to hear them moan

A/N: This was not requested but I just got this idea. Mainly because I think it's hot when guys moan. Might have gone more out with this than I have in a while.. oops... Anyways... hope you guys enjoy! As usual gifs aren't mine and credits to the rightful owners! x

Seonghwa

Seonghwa was a little surprised when he heard you say that, but it didn't come out of the blue either. He noticed that you always clawed at his back whenever he let some of his own moans out, just like you're doing now. He smirks softly as he slows down his pace, almost coming to a halt as he looks you in the eyes.

"I already thought you liked them, but I'm glad you told me." He says, brushing your hair out of your face as he leans down to kiss you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as you pull him impossibly closer, making Seonghwa smile against your lips. When you tug a little harder on the strands he can't stop himself from letting out a groan. Feeling you clench around him in response.

"Fuck you really love it when I do that, huh?"

You quickly nod your head before going back to kissing him. Seonghwa responds eagerly as he continues moving his hips, slowly picking up pace again until you pull away from his lips, throwing your head back against the pillow as your nails scratch down his back.

Seonghwa lets out a low grunt as he continues slamming his hips against yours, bringing you closer to your highs.

Hongjoong

Hongjoong wasn't quiet during sex, but he was definitely holding back his moans. Because he wanted to hear you since it really turns him on, little did he know that it was the same for you.

"Please don't hold back your moans, Joong." He looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your words.

"But I want to hear you." He says, lacing his fingers with yours as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of it.

"I want to hear you too." You whisper softly, afraid of his reaction. It's then that it clicks in Hongjoong's head. A smug smirk spreads across his face as he raises his eyebrows playfully.

"Ah really? You like to hear me, hm?"

You nod your head as you try to look anywhere but his eyes. Hongjoong is having none of it and tilts your face so you're looking directly at him.

"Eyes on me baby. Let me show you how good you make me feel."

He crashes his lips against yours as he continues thrusting inside of you, making both of you moan in the kiss.

Yunho

Yunho is a sweetheart but can also be a teasing little shit when he wants to be. Yunho was never quiet during sex, always letting out low grunts that sound incredibly hot, but he still tried to hold back his own moans so he'd be able to hear you. When he discovers that you actually get off on hearing him moan he starts to use it against you.

Yunho stops holding back his moans when you have sex, letting his head fall back against the pillows as a low grunt escapes his lips. He instantly feels you clench around him and a proud smirk spreads across his face.

"You really like hearing me baby, don't you?"

You rest your hands on his chest as you lean in closer, so your noses are almost touching. You nod softly as you feel Yunho's hands on your hips, holding you down as he thrust up into you.

You throw your head back as a loud moan escapes your lips, Yunho does the same as he continues snapping his hips against yours.

Deep grunts escaping every time he does so, feeling you clench around him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Fuck Yunho you sound so hot."

A teasing smirk spreads across his face as he brings you down enough to kiss you, holding you close as he brings you over the edge.

Yeosang

You always loved hearing Yeosang's deep voice, but in certain situations it had a different effect on you. Yeosang took notice of this and one night when the two of you were having sex and he let out a loud moan, he instantly felt you clench around him. He stopped moving as he let out a low chuckle, looking at you with a smug expression on his face.

"Why did you stop?"

Yeosang rests both hands on either side of your head, effectively caging you in as he leans down, stopping just above your face. That same smug expression still plastered on his face.

"I didn't know you liked to hear me moan, baby."

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you try to look everywhere but his eyes. Which is easier said than done when he's literally above you. Yeosang grins at your shyness and leans down to press a kiss against your lips.

"It's okay sweetheart. I really like hearing you moan too."

He pulls back just enough to snap his hips against yours, making you dig your nails into his shoulders. Yeosang lets out a loud moan as he looks you in the eyes. His intense stare only bringing you closer to your high.

San

Listen. We all know San can't keep quiet, but he'd still try sometimes. He gets off on hearing you moan so therefor he tries to hold back his own sounds. When you notice him doing just that you pull his hair to get him out from the crook of your neck, your action causing San to let out a involuntarily loud moan. His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as he looks up at you, feeling your wall clenching around him as he connects the dots.

His flustered expression makes place for a smug one as he smirks at you. "That's why you don't want me to hold back my moans. Does my baby get turned on by hearing me?"

Your eyes widen at his words as it's now your turn to be flustered. San chuckles at your expression as he hovers above you. That same smug smirk still evident on his face.

"Don't be embarrassed Y/N. Now I know how to make this feel even better."

You raise your eyebrow at his words until you feel him slamming his hips into yours at a fast pace, loud grunts escaping his lips as he places one hand next to your head, the other holding your hip tightly as his eyes bore into yours. The eye contact only making you get to your high faster.

Mingi

Mingi wouldn't be very good at being quiet in the first place, which was something you liked. You just never realized how much he was holding back his own sounds of pleasure whenever you two had sex. Because when you blow him he's a lot more vocal than he is during sex, which confuses you. So when you're having sex and notice him biting down on his bottom lip to prevent him from moaning, you stop him.

Mingi looks at you with confusion written all over his face as he stops thrusting into you. "Why did you do that?"

You wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to you, brushing his hair out of his face as you lean in to press a soft kiss against his lips. "Because I want to hear you too."

"Really?"

You nod softly as you smile when you see him doing the same. "Okay, I just hope the neighbors won't complain tomorrow."

You want to laugh at his words but don't even have the chance to do that since he snaps his hips against yours, letting out a deep grunt as he closes his eyes in pleasure.

Wooyoung

listen, we know Wooyoung is loud and a tease. So expect that from him when he finds out just how much you like to hear him. He stops what he's doing and pulls back enough to be able to look at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he's smirking at you.

"Ah really? It turns you on, hm?"

You want to slap that smug smirk off of his face but instead just roll your eyes at your boyfriend. Wooyoung chuckles at your expression as he leans down enough to whisper in your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Well, maybe I should be even louder then, hm? Let the whole apartment complex know how well we fuck."

"Wooyoung!"

He laughs as he sees your flustered expression, quickly hiding your face behind your hands as you feel your cheeks heat up. Wooyoung chuckles as he pries your hands away from your face, looking at you with that same smug smirk.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about baby."

"Can we stop talking about this and please continue?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Wooyoung eagerly returns the kiss as his hips start moving again, soon slamming against your own at a fast pace. Loud moans escaping your lips as Wooyoung grunts lowly, bringing you closer to the edge.

Jongho

Jongho would be so flustered when he first found out you like hearing him moan when you have sex. He always loved to hear how good he's making you feel and it didn't even cross his mind that it might be the same for you. So one day when the two of you are having sex he decides to stop holding back his moans. What he didn't expect however was for you to react the way you do.

As soon as he lets out a moan he feels you clench around him, his eyes growing wide momentarily as he realizes just how big the effect is on you. He lets out a soft chuckle as he feels his confidence rising.

"Y/N, why didn't you tell me just how much you like to hear me? If I had known this sooner I would have stopped holding back my moans a long time ago."

You don't even have the chance to response because Jongho continues thrusting into you at a fast pace, making you throw your head back against the pillow as you dig your nails into your boyfriend's shoulders. Jongho groans in response as he feels you clenching around him.

"Fuck baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that."

[chippedaxe]

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Title: Irritated Arousal

Warning(s): cursing, NSFW, thigh f!cking, sub reader, tell me if I should add more warnings.

Pronouns: They/Them, non specific anatomy

Synopsis: Karl with a reader that gets angry when they’re h word <3

Pairing: c!Karl X Sub! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Note: unedited* idk why I wrote this? I was just bored one night and couldn’t think of anything else to do.

- also don’t bully the title, LITERALLY couldn’t think of anything better!

- also I copied and pasted this from my notes instead of writing it on tumblr so that’s why it might look a bit weird or different!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Your head whipped around to stare blankly at the silly boy “what?” You spat out at him as he stared back dumbfounded “why’re you upset, is it because of me?” He poked your cheek innocently and you slapped his hand away.

“Yes! It is- go away!” You waved him off “please tell me what’s wrong! What did I do???” He started nagging at you and pulling at your clothes which annoyed you even more “stop it Karl!” You exclaimed “ah- sorry!” He pulled away and apologised “I just- I’m really annoyed right now!” Your face was tinted with what he thought was anger but was really embarrassment.

You knew how you got when you were horny and you knew the crabby attitude that you were portraying was just a front to hide how desperate you are. You crossed your arms and tried to take it off your mind, trying to avoid Karl as well.

“Come on sweetheart, what did I do wrong?” Karl caressed your cheek and you shivered slightly “don’t do that- I told you! I’m just annoyed!” You pushed him away “would it be better if I let you alone for a bit?” Karl got up to give you some space but you stopped him “Yes! Wait- no? Maybe? ugh- I don’t know!” You held your head in your hands.

Your thought process is literally fucked when you’re horny, most of the time you’re unable to think of things other than sex when you’re aroused. “Can I do anything to make you feel better?” Karl gave a sweet smile, you knew exactly how you wanted to answer that but hesitated.

“Maybe..” you considered whether or not to just straight out tell him, you’d expect him to tease you for being cranky over something so silly. “What can I do for you, honey?” Karl leaned back on the couch “you.. could..” you tried to think of something but your mind only led you back to one thing. Sex.

“AH! You’re a stupid nerd!” You shouted and then stomped off, you were obviously irritated and a bit annoyed but you didn’t wanna say or do anything that would actually be damaging. “Stupid? I’m literally the smartest person in the world” he joked around and you gave him a weird look.

“Aw come on! I thought you’d like that!” He lowered his head, you sighed in defeat. He was really trying to cheer you up even though he didn’t know what was wrong! You may as well tell him your problem, right? I mean he should be happy to help!

“What is it?” He noticed your sigh and came over to caress your face, you lowered your head and buried your face in his chest as you confessed sheepishly “I’m horny.” He gave out a little laugh “sorry- what?” He asked again “I’m.. horny!” Your face was full of embarrassment, you felt slightly humiliated.

“Is that all? I thought you were really upset with me for a moment!” He snickered, his lips pressing to your cheek for a moment. He straightened his back “alright then- we walking back to the bedroom or are you happy for me to take you here on the couch?” You pouted at his question, obviously you didn’t care where he stuffed his dick inside of you!

You didn’t bother to move so he just assumed you wanted to fuck on the couch, Karl got on top of you and started to lean in for a kiss. You snubbed him and turned your head, you still weren’t feeling happy with how long he took to figure out you were horny!

“Still mad? That’s alright, I’ll fuck the happiness into you! Or at least fuck the anger out” Karl kissed your temple lovingly “shut up” you tried not to smile at his silliness “make me!” Karl tried to kiss you again but this time you let him, his lips capturing yours in a passionate and loving kiss.

His lips were warm and soft, it made you melt underneath him- or the anger might just be melting you. You reached up and took a hand full of his hair, using it to deepen the kiss. Your tongue made its way into his mouth, the pink muscle slithering around every crevice of his mouth.

He pulled away for air, his face red and Karl’s hair sticking to his forehead. He was panting and starting to become really sweaty “aw gross! You’re all sweaty!” You complained but he laughed “oh baby, I know you love it!” He kissed your cheek again.

Karl unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off “it’s starting to really get hot in here” he sighed when the cold air hit his body. Karl then took your shirt off for you and inspected your body, the way he looked at it was like he’d never seen it before, like this was the last time and he’d never see it again.

You squirmed under his predatory like gaze “don’t stare at me like that, hun’ it’s making me feel exposed..” you complained lightly “oh I’m sorry darling, didn’t mean to make you feel ‘exposed’” he laughed to himself as he slowly leaned in and began leaving light kisses along your jawline.

You tilted your head back a bit to allow him more room, he smiled against your skin and began to suck a little bit as he kissed your jaw. His hands roamed your chest curiously, pinching and grabbing at the soft flesh. You whined out loud as he groped you up, hands clawing at the couch.

“Y-you’re taking too long..” you voiced your complaints, feeling slightly agitated at how he was testing your patience “just thought you might like a bit of foreplay, forgive me..” Karl caressed your cheek. You slapped his hand away and huffed “I’ll hurry it up now then, pants off please darling” he smiled at you.

You pulled your pants down your thighs and let it drop to the floor, thumbs hooking under the waist band of your underwear and sliding them off as well. Karl leaned back and admired your body, eyes glazing over every nook and cranny.

Karl gently parted your legs, his eyes immediately being drawn to your aching hole. “Oh darling, that looks painful.. let me help you” he lowered his hand down and allowed one of his slender fingers to curl up inside of you. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, eyes squinting to look at him.

“Is this too much?” He asked you, you shook your head and decided to be a bit of a brat “n-not enough.” You told him. Karl’s smile faltered for a bit but then returned when he shoved a second finger into you, your hole taking his hand so easily.

Your tight fleshy walls clenched around his two fingers, your breathing became a bit more heavy as you were starting to get close. “G-gonna cum..” you warned Karl “oh? Already? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you..” he pouted at you. You could see that he was obviously teasing you but you still gave him what he wanted.

You opened your legs up more and looked at him through your eyelashes, head tilting downward slightly “I want you to fuck me still..” you spoke quietly. Karl smiled and pulled his hand away from your hole which made you whine, you then quickly dismissed your negative feelings as he replaced his two fingers with his penis.

Karl slid himself into you gently, your hole already being stretched open- sucking him in. You leaned your head back and arched your back a bit, your hips aching from the hold that Karl had on them.

Karl gripped your hips tightly, starting to thrust against you. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust he did, the sounds of skin on skin echoing around the room. You hoped your disturbing noises wouldn’t be heard from outside.

You squealed and struggled to keep your mouth shut as Karl pressed himself deeper inside of you, the head of his cock pressing against your insides. Karl let out a soft groan as he rocked his hips against you, nails gently dragging along your thigh which left light scratch marks.

You couldn’t help letting out a loud moan, feeling much better letting it out than to conceal your pleasure. Karl started going faster the moment you started being more vocal which only encouraged you to stop being quiet.

You were sure the whole SMP could hear the two of you now, heaving sweaty bodies pressed to each other with the sounds of clapping and groaning in the room. Your hands wrapped around Karl’s torso, nails threatening to scratch his skin.

Tears pricked at your eyes gently as you felt what may have been the best orgasm of your entire life about to approach, you tapped Karl and tried to make it clear that you couldn’t hold on for him any longer and you had to let go “g-gonna cum!!” You exclaimed “that’s okay baby, do it for me..” he encouraged.

You let go, cumming around his cock. Juices from you started to leak out of your hole and onto your thighs, making you groan in annoyance “oh perfect.. Baby, you don’t mind if I get off with your thighs, do you?” Karl smiled up at you.

You shrugged and laid down, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath, feeling a bit sensitive as Karl pulled out of you and slid himself between your legs. His dick slipped between both of your thighs closed together.

He started to fuck himself against you, now only thrusting for his own pleasure and enjoyment “oh thank you, baby..” he moaned out softly. His hands gripped onto your soft plushy thighs, his cock twitching against you which let you know he was about to cum.

Karl shuddered, his hips pausing their movement as he suddenly came; cum shooting out onto your thighs and covering a bit of your stomach. “Ah! Thank you!”Karl flopped on top of you, arms hugging your sweet body “No problem but I’m all dirty now!” You complained “I guess we’ll have to bathe together then, my dear” Karl chuckled before kissing your forehead and getting up to run you two a shower.

[jakesavocado]

Who Would Have Guessed? || P.SH

Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (Unprotected Sex)

Words: 1.48k

Warnings: 18+ content, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Your brother's best friend comes over for some video games, only to end up spending the night with you.

﹅﹅★

“Y/n! Can you get the door? It’s probably Sunghoon,” your brother Heeseung shouted from the bathroom. Groaning in annoyance, you got up off your bed and quickly stomped to the door, pulling it open to reveal your brother’s best friend. He smiled at you, brushing past your shoulder without a word. You watched the way he sauntered up the stairs, most likely entering Heeseung’s room for another night full of video games. Rolling your eyes, you went back to your room, getting back to the book you had been reading.

Hours passed, but the boys’ yelling didn’t cease. You wondered why your parents didn’t tell them to keep it down. But then you remembered, if they were home, Sunghoon wouldn’t have been here in the first place. Having enough of their chaos, you huffed and walked over to your brother’s door. As usual, it was locked. You pounded on the door with your fist, not stopping until you heard the lock click on the other side. Instead of Heeseung, Sunghoon poked his head around from behind it, giving you that same, kind but forced smile.

“Can you guys be quiet? I’m trying to sleep.”

Sunghoon’s smile widened. It only looked more insincere. “Sure thing. We’ll try our best.” He didn’t wait for a reply, slamming the door shut on your face. Scoffing, you turned around and returned to your room, trying your best to fall asleep before their chaotic shouts reached your ears again.

Spoiler alert; it didn’t work. You stared at the ceiling, completely exhausted. It was almost 4 in the morning and though your body was tired, you couldn’t seem to get any rest. There was no noise coming from your brother’s room, a sign that the two boys had put their games away and most likely gone to sleep.

Unsure of what to do, you left your bed and ventured downstairs, in dire need of a glass of water. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, mind too fatigued to worry about anything spooky. As you sipped your water, you heard a creak near the stairs. Whipping your head towards the sound, your eyes widened when you saw a tall figure standing in the shadows. “Heeseung?” you called, setting the glass down on the counter. The lights flickered on, revealing the silhouette’s identity. “It’s me,” Sunghoon said, walking into the kitchen. He saw your half-empty glass and picked it up, downing the water inside it, all in one gulp. “You could’ve gotten your own glass you know,” you said, unamused. Sunghoon tsked. “You were done with it anyways.” Scoffing in disbelief, you crossed your arms over your chest. “No I wasn’t. I just put it down cause I saw you creeping around in the dark.” Sunghoon grinned. “I wasn’t creeping around. I just couldn’t sleep.”

He kept his eyes fixed on yours, poised expression not faltering even in the slightest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s weird,” you said, in an attempt to disturb the unsettling silence that fell over the room. “Don’t flatter yourself y/n,” he said, licking his lips while running a hand through his hair.

“Why are you even awake,” he asked? Why was he trying to keep up a conversation with you? Never once in his five years of knowing Heeseung, had he ever spoken to you for so long. You were breaking records tonight. “I’m awake because you and Heeseung were being too damn loud,” you shared, still quite bitter that you were missing out on some much-needed sleep.

Sunghoon laughed apologetically. “Sorry about that. We were having a tense match.” You didn’t care how serious their match was. It was no reason for you to lose sleep over. How very inconsiderate of them both, especially Sunghoon. He seemed to read your mind, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

You weren’t expecting him to ask you that, but now that he had, you didn’t know what to say. You shrugged. “How about you put me to sleep?” It was a sarcastic remark, but you noticed the way Sunghoon seemed to consider it. Somehow, you went from standing at the kitchen counter to being tucked under the covers of your bed together.

Sunghoon made sure to keep a fine gap between you. This was new for both of you.

“I can’t believe you’re in my room right now,” you said, thinking out loud. He smiled. “Me neither.”

You sat up, turning towards him. “How come we’re actually getting along? I mean, I always thought you were a douche like Heeseung, but honestly, you’re not that bad.”

Sunghoon surely hadn’t expected to be perceived that way. He shrugged. “I guess it’s just my charming personality that really draws you Lee’s in.”

You threw your pillow his way, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous comment. “You’re delusional.”

Sunghoon caught the pillow and tossed it back at you. Yelping, you threw it back at him, this time more forcefully, and took another pillow in your hands to defend yourself. Sunghoon chuckled and got on his knees, raising the pillow above his head. “Are we seriously having a pillow fight,” he asked dubiously? You shrugged and hit him with your pillow. “I guess we are.”

He managed to dodge your next attack, lunging forward to slam his pillow on your head. You fell on your back, holding your pillow above your face protectively. Sunghoon whacked it out of your hands, toppling over and falling flat on top of you. He froze, as did you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest, breath hitching when he pushed himself up hovering over you. His eyes locked with yours, shining in the dark. You had no idea why you were having such a hard time looking away from him. Sunghoon’s eyes wavered from your eyes to your lips. Without so much as a second thought, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You found yourself closing your eyes and kissing him back. Sunghoon grabbed your waist, moving his lips against yours passionately. The kiss escalated quickly, with you tugging at the hem of his shirt, wanting it off. Sunghoon sat up, pulling you with him and made you sit on his lap. He threw his shirt to the side, doing the same with yours. His lips were back on yours in a matter of seconds, fingers reaching behind your back to unhook your bra. He didn’t bother pulling it off, choosing to leave it be. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with the hair on the back of his head. Sunghoon hummed as you rolled your hips over his. You could feel him starting to harden up underneath you. The sensation made wetness pool in your panties.

“Is the door locked,” he asked, pulling away from your lips for a moment? You glanced behind your shoulder. “I don’t think it is but what’s there to worry about? Heeseung sleeps like he’s dead anyway.”

Sunghoon laughed and kissed your shoulder, going down till the valley of your breasts. Your head fell back, lips parting in awe. Sunghoon groaned against your skin. He was going to cum in his pants if you kept grinding on him like that. So, he made you sit up, tugging your shorts down your legs. He pulled his own pants down, throbbing member slapping up proudly. You took it in your hands, angling his tip at your entrance. Sunghoon held your waist, biting his lip as you sunk down on his cock. He was bit, stretching you out incredibly. Sunghoon guided your hips over his cock, lips finding yours again. You moaned into his mouth, clinging onto him desperately. “Hmm you feel so good,” he praised, squeezing your thighs. You cursed and pulled his body close, nails digging into his shoulders. Sunghoon ran his tongue over your collar bone, sucking on it softly. You mewled and kept bouncing over his cock, feeling a knot begin to form in your stomach. “Are you close,” he asked, feeling the way your walls clenched around his cock? You nodded frantically, not able to form the words to say it. “Me too,” he said, starting to buck his hips up into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warned a while later, toes curling in bliss. Sunghoon grunted, pulling your hips down on his one last time before his cum spurt out into your walls. You moaned, feeling your orgasm hit as a result. Sunghoon dragged your hips over his, riding out your high.

You smiled giddily, placing a small kiss on his lips. Sunghoon returned your smile, not wanting to let go of you. “This was nice,” you spoke, biting back a grin. Sunghoon agreed. “Your brother’s gonna kill me.”

- ♡ -

requested by anon

[mrschilly]

The Unexpected - Part II

Warnings: dom!Mason, dom!Ben, sub!reader, choking, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex, oral sex and I think that's all.

- In fact, I do. I'd really love to have a threesome with you both. - she blurted, covering her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, as she seemed embarassed.

It seemed like it wasn't an agreed thing with Mason, since his jaw dropped fully open, and Ben didn't knew anything until that moment.

- I'm sorry, you don't have to do it, if you don't want ... - she spoke after a few moments of silence.

- It's ok, you don't need to be sorry. - Ben caressed her cheek - I really like this idea, actually. - he smirked and he got close to her.

- I agree with you, mate. - Mason echoed, crossing the room.

- I guess you can be the first one to fuck me on that pretty sofa of yours, since it's your house. - she burried her face in the sleeves of her sweater and her cheeks flushed, since she wasn't sure they would be happy with her idea.

Mason kissed her and his tongue slipped inside her mouth. His kiss was messy and fast, his tongue dancing very fast with hers. He only broke the kiss to take off her shirt and bra and both his hands cupped around her breasts, drawing slow circles around her nipples.

- Get on your knees, I want to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours first. - he said authoritatively out of the blue, putting a hand on her shoulder and softly pushing her down. - I hope you don't mind watching, Ben. - he murmured.

- It's fine, mate. Take your time. - he said, sitting on the armchair. His dick was already hard and he pulled his underwear down enough to free his length.

Y/N did exactly what Mason wanted and she unzipped his jeans. He still wasn't hard but that wasn't a big deal for her. She surrounded his dick with her fingers and softly pushed them up and down. Few pushes were enough for his dick to grow harder and his breath to become heavier.

- You're such a good girl for me, y/n. Fuck... - he threw his head back as soon as her tongue touched his glans. Slowly, she began to tuck all his dick in her mouth.

- You're so fucking good. Holy shit. - he muttered, putting his hands in her hair and adjusting her rhythm to his.

Ben was enjoying the view and began to jerk himself off.

- Ben, would you mind letting her cum with your fingers? She’s so good with her mouth and I think she deserves it. - Mason said with his eyes half - closed. It was clear he was enjoying the blowjob she was giving to him and letting her cum was a sort of reward.

- Sure, mate. - Ben slowly approached her and kneeled behind her. He moved her underwear to the side and his tongue went directly where she needed him the most. His movements were slow but he still managed to send her over the edge when he reached her clit.

- Fuck… - her words were suffocated by Mason’s dick, as he was still thrusting himself inside her throat.

- I’m going to cum, princess. Cum with me. - Mason got down and whispered those words, knowing perfectly she was already close.

He held out his hand to cup her breast again and help her out.

- Oh my god, Ben…- she took off her mouth from Mason’s dick and her forehead leaned on his stomach. - Fuck, you’re so good… - she slipped her nails onto his back as soon as her legs began to tremble. Mason came a few seconds later, leaving a mess on the carpet.

- Don’t worry, I’ll clean it later. - he muttered helping y/n to get up. - Now, I guess it’s your turn, mate. - he smirked - I hope you don’t mind helping him out, babygirl. You were so good with me. -

- I can’t wait, honestly. - she smiled, kissing Ben. His kisses were slower, more mature than Mason’s and she could taste all the flavors of his mouth.

- Can I fuck your little tight pussy instead of your mouth? - he asked nonchalantly.

- I have a better idea, honestly. - she whispered.

She made Mason sit down on the sofa and she sat on his lap.

- I want you both to fuck me at the same time. -

Ben was stunned because he didn’t really expect it but he gladly accepted it. She slowly began to kiss Mason, while caressing his cheek. Ben put his dick in her ass and she gasped in Mason’s mouth, as it was a bit unexpected.

- Fuck… - she murmured, taking her a bit to adjust to his length.

She guided Mason’s dick in her pussy and both men just adjusted their rhythm to one another.

- Fucking hell, you’re so tight for me… - Ben was the first to speak, while his thrusts became faster. - I don’t know if I can resist any longer… -

He came few moments later, as he sank his head onto her shoulder and his hands clenched her hips.

- It was so good. - he muttered, slowly going out and throwing himself on the sofa.

Y/N was still focused on Mason and she didn’t really answer. She wanted to let him cum just another time.

She kissed him again and his thrust became more rushed than before. He returned the kiss and his hand began to draw small circles on her clit.

They both came together, again.

- I’m glad you accepted my idea. - y/n spoke, sitting between them.

- Well, I’m glad I did because you were so good, baby girl. - Mason smirked.

All of them were exhausted and it didn’t took much to y/n to fall asleep. Mason took her in his arms and brought her in his spare room. He put her in the bed and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Who knew if that fuck could become something more. He hoped so in his heart.

[bakugosbratx]

Hi hi! Congratulations!! 🎊

Could I please request a fic with Eren or Levi and could they have some yandere tendencies? Like they’re too protective, gets jealous easily, would absolutely fuck you until you’re screaming so that the guy who’s been checking you out heard?

NSFW 18+ Let them hear you — Yandere Eren Jeager x Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Sexual content, bdsm, degrading, unprotected sex, oral, non-con, abuse, possessive, toxic relationship, gaslighting, Jean abuse, punishment, violence, etc.

Words: 1.9k

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hey love. Thank you so much for the request! I hope it meets what you are looking for. I am only on the third season so I apologize in advance for anything that seems uncanny. Enjoy.

P.S. I am still on break but I am trying to complete some request that have been sitting in my drafts. I miss y’all and will be back before y’all know it. Thank you for all the love and sweet messages.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

You did nothing wrong. You were eating your lunch with Mikasa when Jean strolled on over. It is not a secret that Jean likes you. Everyone knows that Jean likes anyone with a pulse. You have told the man multiple times that you are not interested — along with Eren — and you have a boyfriend, but it does not stop the man from trying. Especially when Eren is busy.

“Hello Y/N.” Jean greeted with a flirty smile. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll.

“Hello Jean.” You sigh as he sat across you two.

“What’s with the sad face, pretty thing? Eren got you down?” Jean chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

You scoffed. “Me and Eren are doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Well, your face says otherwise. If you ask me, I’d say you can do better than that douchebag anyways—“ Jean’s spill got interrupted with a hard punch to the side of the head then another one to the nose. Gasp filled the room as eyes landed on who did this to the man. No one was surprised to see it was Eren himself.

Eren grabs Jean by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up to meet his height. Eren’s natural blue eyes were filled with rage. “You son of a bitch. Why the fuck are you flirting with my girl, Jean? She told you more than once she’s not interested.”

Jean manages to release himself from Eren’s grip, stumbling to keep his balance. This is not the first time these two have had altercations with one another.

“Ha, you don’t see the way she looks at me. Besides,” he pauses to wipe the blood leaking from his nose, “she was totally flirting with me.”

“Bastard!” Eren bellows as he goes to attack again, but the higher ups stop him along with you and Mikasa.

“Eren, stop.” Mikasa and you demand, hanging onto his arms.

“Let go of me! I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“That’s enough, Jaeger.” Captain Levi scolds. Eren snaps out of his rage to meet the small man’s eyes. “In my office. Now.”

Though Eren is still angry, he still knows when to show respect. Especially when it comes to the higher ups. Everyone in the room knew this.

“Yes, sir.” Eren sighs, still breathing heavy.

“Eren,” You began with sorrow filled irises. Though this is in no way shape or form your fault, you cannot help but feel the guilt within your bones. If only you would have done more than maybe Eren would not be in this situation.

Eren just glared down at your small frame compared to his, clearly not happy with you. It was a look you know all too well and you know you will be in for it later. Your heart pounded against your ribs at the thought.

“We’ll talk later.” Eren hissed before following Captain Levi to his office.

Jean did not mess with you for the rest of the afternoon. Eren was sent to clean up the horse stables while the rest of the team did their chores. Eren made sure to have his eyes on you anytime you were in close proximity. His glare was one you always refused to meet with your own two eyes. It made you feel small. Just like how Eren wanted.

Your anxiety has been through the roof all day. No one can blame you, though. Eren is a loose cannon on a good day. So, your super barely being touched was noticed, but not discussed amongst your peers.

Strong hands touched your shoulders. You jumped out of reflex. Looking up, you see your boyfriend looking down at you.

“Eren!” You exclaimed with joy and fear. He noticed both emotions.

“Follow me.” Eren orders, patting your shoulder more rough than he should have. You did not even have time to comply as his hand snakes around your bicep and pulls you along.

“Eren, you’re hurting me.” You whine as he pulls you towards the closest bedroom available.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

Slamming the door open, he ushers you along inside and swiftly closed the door behind him. Your hand wraps around your now warm, pulsating arm. You can feel the heat from Eren’s glare down onto you. You start to tremble.

“Eren, I—“

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren growls. He has taught you more than once to respect his orders, but you just cannot seem to listen. You will pay for that sooner than later.

Eren leans against the door, arms crossed as he heavily sighs. “What were you doing with Jean earlier today?” He finally asked. You turned to face him.

“N-Nothing!” You stammered. You know this made you sound guilty, but you are actually innocent. Just Eren knows how to intimidate you and when you’re in this position, your nerves take over.

Eren scornfully chuckled. “Please, do you really think I’m that dumb, Y/N?”

“I’m telling the truth, Eren! You know I don’t like Jean.” You spat. Your blood is boiling at this point. This accusation has been thrown at you more than once in your relationship and quite honestly, it’s getting tiring.

“Watch it.” Eren warned. You know you are not supposed to raise your voice towards him. He has corrected that behavior more than once and will do it again if necessary.

“Why was he sitting with you at lunch?” Eren interrogates after he notices you lose some confidence to yell at him.

You let out a deep sigh. “He just showed up. You know how Jean is.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Tell him to fuck off!” Eren barks.

“And I did!” You argued back.

A small shriek escapes your lips as Eren charges towards you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pushing you down onto the nearest bunk bed. You struggled to untangle his fingers as they squeeze your throat tightly.

“What did I say about talking back, slut?” Eren growls.

“I-I’m s-sorry, E-Eren.” You managed to get out as you lose circulation to your lungs.

“Oh, you will be. I’m going to make sure this filthy little mouth of yours will not be able to talk for weeks.”

Eren finally let’s go of your throat. You immediately cough. There is not enough oxygen in the room to get to your lungs fast enough it seems. Eren would argue and say you deserve it.

You hear a belt unbuckle along with his pants unzipping. His pants hang low on his hips as he watches you collect air. By the way his boxers are fitting quite snug, you know what is coming.

“On your knees.” Eren demands, pointing towards the creaky wooden floor below. You shook your head no, your eyes pleading. Eren did not respond to that well as he grabbed a hand full of hair and forced you to the ground.

“Do you ever fucking listen? I said on your damn knees.” Eren growls. You did not even have a chance to explain that you are not in the mood because Eren’s length is now being stuffed down your throat. You choked on Eren’s cock as every inch was entering your mouth.

Your nails clawed at Eren’s clothed abdomen. His hand never let up on your hair as he thrust in-and-out of you. You are choking, coughing for air, but Eren refused to show any ounce of mercy. In fact, he found it quite amusing. You should know better than to disrespect your boyfriend.

“Where is all that back talk now, princess? Don’t have shit to say with my cock down your disrespectful ass throat, do ya?” Eren mocks as takes another rapid thrust down your windpipe. Drool covered your chin and Eren’s dick. You can feel his girth stretch out your throat and he loves it. He loves seeing you struggle.

Pre-cum started to leak from his erected member. You are mentally thanking your maker. You needed a break and a gasp for air, but those prayers were answered quicker than expected. Eren pulls out his cock from your sore mouth. You let out pitiful coughs as he stroked himself to the sight of you.

“Strip then get in doggy.” He demands. Not wanting to make this worse for yourself, you do as your told. You are not even sure whose room this is. You just hope they do not walk into see the sinful things you and Eren are doing.

Each article of clothing fall to the floor and you get in the position Eren wants you in. All of your delicate tight holes are displayed for his taking. He walks over and spreads your ass out some more to get a better view. You yelp when a hard slap hits your ass.

Without warning, he brings you closer to him by latching his hands onto your hips and his cock slips into your tight cunt. Your walls do their best to expand to his girth, but no amount of sex with Eren can get you prepared for that. Your pussy takes in inch-by-inch. His stamina and merciless rhythm is forcing you to be accepting of his cock. Your knees shake under the pressure and your hands tightly grip onto the covers below.

A hard slap to your ass exploits the moan you have his behind your lips. “I kept your throat intact for a reason. Use it.” Eren scolds before hitting your ass again. You whimper.

“Eren.” You mewl.

“Yeah, who is making you feel this good?” He teases as he continues his venomous thrust.

“You do.” You sob. Your pussy is beginning to become accustomed to Eren’s erection and he is hitting all the right spots. He always does.

“Can Jean make you feel this good?” He groans, his knees slowly buckling beneath him.

“Never.” You wail. Your weeping cunt confirmed this as well.

“Damn,” he pants, “straight.”

Cum leaked from Eren’s cock deep into your cunt. You let out little moans as you became stuffed with Eren’s seed. Though you did not like he was not using protection, you have no say in the matter. This is for his pleasure and your punishment. You just have to take it like the good little submissive girl he taught you to be.

You milked every single drop of Eren before you were granted permission to put on clothes. Your hands intertwined as he lead you to the door. There stood Jean, Armin, and Conny. They all looked horrified as well as you. Eren’s smug smirk never left his features.

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Eren?” Jean exclaims in furry.

“Handling business,” he wraps his arm around Jean’s shoulder and let’s go of your hand to pat his chest, “By the way, thanks for letting me fuck my girlfriend on your bed.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved