#even then it’s nothing like it was meant to be 😔

[aeonophagic]

SQUELCH

[chirpsythismorning]

Just watched Brokeback Mountain for the first time and I need to talk about it.

Throughout the movie, we see Ennis experience a lot of intense discomfort and fear at the idea of being intimate with a man, despite it becoming abundantly clear in the details and based on his actions that that is indeed what he wants. He even admits to Jack that this fear stems from an experience he had at a young age, when his father showed him two men who were presumed to be lovers (they were roommates vibes), murdered and castrated, with him basically using it as a lesson to show Ennis that being gay was wrong and would get you killed.

Jack on the other hand was a little less discomforted or fearful at the idea of being with a man, in that we actually saw him return the following summer to Brokeback Mountain hoping Ennis would be there, only for him to show up alone. We saw how after this he confidently approached a man at the bar hoping to get to know him, only to get rejected and risk getting hate crimed (foreshadowing 😭). And we saw how, over time, Jack’s struggle had more to do with being hurt over Ennis’ unwillingness to commit or even just consider the possibility of them being together long term, even despite the risk of being gay in the 60’s.

Near the end of the film, upon Jack’s death, Ennis discovers from his father that over the past 20 years since they met at Brokeback Mountain, Jack constantly brought it up to his folks, how Ennis, his friend, was going to move up to their ranch and they were going to build a cabin and live together and take over for the family.

Jack was often the one in the moment taking the chances for them to be together. He was the one who mentioned that they could go to Mexico, with Ennis furiously rejecting it saying ‘you know what happens to people like you there??’

But what’s even more painful, is that in this same scene, Ennis’ acknowledges the truth more directly, and why it’s so painful is because it ends up ironically coming true:

Here, Ennis is basically saying that if he decides to be with Jack for real, aka faces his queerness head on, that’s going to be the thing that gets them (Jack) killed. Shortly after this, Jack loses it and has that infamous ass monologue, followed by Ennis breaking down over how it’s Jack’s fault that he’s this way in the first place.

In the end, when Jack dies, Ennis finds out about what happened from Jack’s wife, Lureen Newsome, who said Jack was pumping up a flat out on a backroad when his tire blew up, with the rim of the tire slamming his face, breaking his nose and jaw, and knocking him unconscious on his back. By the time someone drove by on the deserted backroad, he had drowned in his own blood.

The audience might’ve believed this story, if it wasn’t for how rehearsed it sounded coming out of Lureen’s mouth, but it also doesn’t help that images of Jack being hate crimed as his true cause of death are flashing across Ennis’s mind in real time while Lureen is telling him about the ‘accident’.

While it’s left up to interpretation, it’s implied from what his wife and father said, that Jack was hate-crimed by his father in law, with it being covered up.

Broken nose? Broken jaw?… Those are the kinds of wounds someone endures after being beaten up. And if it’s happening to the point of death, then he was essentially beaten to death.

This then fits into what Jack’s father said, because apparently, shortly before he died, he’d told his father he’d found a different friend that was going to come up there to the ranch with him. And so it’s very likely Lureen’s father caught wind of this as his plans to leave neared, leading to his murder (Jack also bitched his father in law tf out in an epic way, which on its own felt unnecessary in the moment, but within the context of this makes a whole lot more sense).

Either way, it seems Jack waited for Ennis to change his mind. 20 years he waited, and when Ennis didn’t, Jack finally moved on with someone else who made an offer of his own years before, only to get murdered just as Ennis feared he would if he decided to live his life authentically.

Ennis initially found out like this, in a postcard that bounced of him inquiring Jack about seeing each other again after that last massive fall out where they had, only for Ennis’s worst fear to be realized:

Nov 7th with deceased stamped across it has me spiraling 😭

Now, obviously Brokeback Mountain is one of the most well known queer films of all time, like there’s no denying that. So it’s fairly easy to assume ST could be taking some inspiration from this film just like they have with hundreds upon hundreds of other films. But especially if they are planning to go the queer route, homage to this film is pretty much guaranteed (there’s also one more reason it might be guaranteed, but I’m saving that for the end 🤣).

Regardless, as you can probably already tell, it’s very easy to see similarities between Ennis with Mike and Jack with Will.

Mike getting the ‘you see Michael? You see what happens?’ treatment from his father, in the first episode in the series, is very Ennis coded in that this is a TV show that follows that up with seasons of Mike pushing Will away from him, with it leading to a boiling point where he says, ‘What did you think? Really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement in play games for the rest of our lives?’ with Will responding, ‘Yeah. I guess I did. I really did,’ aka extremely Jack coded.

The really epic thing about this though, is that ST is clearly going on a different journey than Brokeback Mountain did, in that it’s simply subverting the bury your gays trope. While they are acknowledging the risk of being queer in the 80’s, they’re not letting it end ‘realistically’ like many people have insisted it must because that is the only option. And this will be a satisfying ending because it’s coming as a response to all those heartbreaking stories before it that have reinforced this idea that happy endings just aren’t an option for gay people who simply want to be together.

While Ennis and Jack didnt get their happy ending like they wanted, Mike and Will on the other hand 😏

And last but not least, on a more hilariously ironic note, the guy who Jack was going to settle for in the end instead of Ennis, was a guy named Randall Malone, played by none other than David fucking Harbour.

[fiie]

FIE WHAT DO WE THINK arent they so doomed mlm wlw UGHH I LOVE TJIS

I-

Kiana in the toji gojos fit is AAAAAAAA (i love women)

also fun fact but gojo and kiana actually share the same birthday !! (Dec 7)

THANK U FOR THINKING OF ME WHEN U SEEN THIS 🥹

[leslieseveride]

wish i had someone to watch sailor moon with. :(

[protaetia]

🐞

[starlightbright]

RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔

EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.

I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.

THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.

That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.

So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.

Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.

[coolnonsenseworld]

I haven't been feeling very good around social media.

That arm injury turned my life upside down and the pain dictated everything I did - how i ate, how I slept, how I held my phone, how I made money, and it drove me out of social life, because I had nothing wonderful to share except my own pain and the dread of the future.

I didn't have a heart to come up with something that will grip someone else's attention, that will tell a story, that will form the connection. I was too weary. But whatever happens - art will forever be my safe place and even if I didn't have that heart to share it with the masses, I worked hard to bring my arm back to functionality and worked harder to finish the new klance calendar.

And that's all I wanted to say this weekend. I will be publishing pre-orders very next week and I'm excited to share this with you and all 12 pieces with it and this post is just something I wanted to leave here, because oh man. I've been feeling like without art I meant nothing.

Thanks for waiting for me and supporting me during it 😔💕💕💕❤️💙

[starmocha]

Relentless Conqueror Sylus/Reader | 1790 words | Masterlist | AO3 To be wedded to the strongest warrior in the village was an honor and a blessing. A/N: I saw someone specified that Sylus is dressed as a Mongolian wrestler in the new memory. I am so excited for it, but um…this fic has absolutely nothing to do with that. My mind just swerved completely off-course the moment I saw this man manhandling us again lmao And…yeah…this is based on this post I made earlier. Still in my ✨shameful Sylus posting era✨ 😔 MDNI.

In the wide-open plane of the grassland, everything could be heard for miles all around. Stretched across the vast expanse, one area was occupied by numerous huts making up a small but thriving village.

Within the village, everyone had a role. The elders guided and led the villagers with their years of wisdom. The men were providers, hunters, and warriors while the women sustained the community and reared the children who would one day take over, thus continuing this cycle of life.

You were no exception. It was time for you to take your place among others with the new role you were about to take.

Fortune had smiled down upon you. Hushed whispers wove through the village, going from mouth to mouth, passing loose lips after loose lips, before the news finally reached you.

Sylus had chosen you to be his bride.

To be chosen by the strongest warrior in the village to be his bride was an honor bestowed only on you. He would provide you with a life of comfort and in turn, you were to bear him strong children. Many of the other maidens envied you, wanting to covet your place, to steal him away from you.

However, Sylus was truly the epitome of the ideal warrior: Large, strong, and imposing. He was unyielding on the battlefield, and he was unyielding in his decisions.

Of all the maidens who had crossed his path, only one had managed to ensnare him, to captivate him like no others.

You.

It was a prosperous union witnessed in a lavish ceremony by the entire village, cheered to be blessed by the gods themselves. A true match made in Heaven, many declared, as the wedding ceremony ended and the celebration began.

Arm linked with your new husband, you greeted and thanked the well-wishers, watching with wonders as everyone feasted and drank to your marriage. The merriment started from morning and continuing well into the late night. After nightfall had descended, Sylus led you away from the celebration. No one noticed the absence of the bride and groom, too drunk on alcohol and the festivities to even be aware of their surroundings.

Sylus whisked you away to his quiet hut, far from the music, laughter, and cheers. He towered over you, holding aside the curtain at the entryway to allow you entrance. As you entered, you could see the hut had been prepped for the wedding night.

It was a very comfortable living space, more extravagant than many of the other villagers’ homes. You barely had a moment to fully take in the sight of your new home before Sylus swept you off your feet, cradled in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He laid you down on fur, your beauty illuminated by the lamps within the hut. You could still hear the residual laughter and chatters outside as the rest of the villagers continued in their merriment celebrating this union.

“Pay them no heed,” Sylus ordered, grasping your chin firmly and forcing your sight on him. “Tonight, and for the rest of our lives, you are mine.”

He kissed you roughly, not minding your inexperience. It pleased him that your chasteness meant you were untouched, meant that he would have the sole honor of claiming you.

He disrobed his blushing bride, guiding your nimble hands to his toned body, letting you touched upon his firm muscles, feel the heat from his body. One by one, accessories fell, clinking and clanking on the ground. Then, his own ceremonial garments were discarded, tossed carelessly to the side and leaving him bare and nude, your eyes feasting on the wonderous sight of your new husband.

You swallowed slowly, feeling the gentle flutters of butterflies in your belly. He smirked at your nervousness. One hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You whimpered when he claimed your lips again, his large body overpowering you in seconds. He had you spread beneath him, his own body looming over yours and keeping you trapped under him. He cupped your sex, startling you as his long, slender fingers worked into your folds.

You let out a sharp gasp, fingers finding their way into his hair, and tugging at him nervously.

“Relax,” he ordered, “You’re not ready for me yet.”

He was well-endowed, his size intimidating, and you unconsciously clenched, only realizing when you heard Sylus’ deep chuckle. You blushed crimson, but your embarrassment soon passed the moment you felt Sylus working his fingers in and out of you.

“Ah—” Your hips moved on their own, desperately meeting his thrusts, wanting more, just a bit more. Your toes curled, body tensing up when you felt his thumb brushing against something that was causing you to jolt in pleasure. “M-more…Sylus…please…”

“You like that, sweetie?”

You nodded numbly, your voice coming out breathless. “Yes…please…my husband.”

You didn’t see the way Sylus’ eyes gleamed in satisfaction, didn’t hear his quick intake of breath over your own helpless moans. He smirked.

He seized your mouth again, taking in your startled cries, his fingers slipping in and out of your wet folds faster and faster. “My bride—my wife…” he murmured back, nipping and sucking greedily, “You’re so wet now, sweetie…Do you feel good?”

You sobbed and cried as his fingers curled inside. There was a tightening in your belly. You called out to him, scared. “Sy—Sylus…”

He shushed you gently. “Come for me.”

You clenched around his fingers, your cries filling the room. Sylus’ smirk widened as he watched you come undone by his fingers alone. He kissed your lips, praising you softly as you panted and sobbed. You barely recovered when he withdrew his fingers, his length taking place.

You bucked in surprise, eyes widening. “Sy-Sylus, no…”

“You are ready for me, my bride,” he assured. He pressed forward and you gripped a handful of the fur throw beneath you, your sensitive body feeling suddenly overstimulated by the massive intrusion taking place. Impossibly big, you thought, as your walls stretched around his thick length, taking him in slowly through much pain. He barely comforted you, seemingly enjoying the sight of you gasping and moaning as you were getting stuffed by him. His soft pants grew shallower, his eyes darkened with desire as he watched his beloved new bride taking him in inch by inch.

He praised you over and over once he was fully sheathed inside you, his deep voice comforting you in that moment. “You’re doing so well,” he said, voice thick with desire, “I have chosen the perfect wife.”

You felt a warmth in your belly, his praise filling you with unexpected joy. “Sylus…”

He smirked.

He took you brutally, riding you as rough and hard like his faithful steed. You wept and sobbed as his powerful thrusts reached that euphoric spot that had you writhing and moaning, begging him for more and more of this sweet, agonizing pleasure. You had never known the touch of a man before this night, and from this moment onwards, Sylus made sure you never will. He was going to make sure your body learned that you were his, craved only him, and only satisfied by him.

He was wrecking you, ruining you. You moaned as his large hand covered your flat belly. “You better prepare yourself, my bride,” he husked, “the women in my family only bear large children.”

You trembled, unsure if what you were feeling was fear or otherwise. He slipped his hands under you, groping and grabbing your buttocks and lifting you off the bed, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Immediately, your head lolled to the side, your moans resounded within the private space as you felt him penetrating you deeply, his pacing still unrelenting and unforgiving. This new angle had you calling out to him needily, feeling the second climax approaching fast.

Closer…and closer…and closer—

“Dear gods…” he groaned as you came undone again, your walls squeezing tightly around his cock. He pressed you back into the bed, letting you ride out your high as he chased after his. His hand grasped yours, pressing them deeper into the bedding.

“Gonna fuck my child into you,” he grunted, his hips slapping against yours, “Gonna breed you, have you heavy with my baby in your womb.”

He fondled your breast, massaging it roughly under his calloused hand. His mouth was close to yours, his hot, humid breath fanned over your lips. “Gonna have you swell, gonna have you bear me sons and daughters over and over again…”

Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him in closer to his surprise. He smirked. His hand reached out to brush your hair out of your sweat-slicked face. He leaned in closer, kissing you briefly, and then he asked, “Did you like the sound of that, my bride? Do you like what I am saying? Do you like knowing this is your role from now on? To bear my children over and over again?”

“Y—” you bit down on your bottom lip, embarrassed.

“Say it,” he demanded, thrusting in harder, eliciting more of your sweet cries.

He held you close and you sobbed into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck as you felt him still pounding into your pussy. “Yes…Yes…!” you cried out, clinging to him, “I want your baby…I want to have all of your babies, Sylus!”

“Fuck’s sake…” His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you come again already. This time, he also felt his own climax, felt himself pumping hot into you. He groaned again, “Take every last drop, sweetie.”

You felt so impossibly full, his seed flooding your womb. There was not a doubt in your head that this union wouldn’t be fruitful. You were going to carry his baby, bear him large, strong sons—future warriors to carry on his legacy.

“My bride, my beautiful bride,” he murmured, lavishing you in his sweet kisses as he pulled out. He gazed down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and doe eyes staring back at him. He hummed softly, his lips finding yours again, his large hand interlocking with yours.

“Mine.”

Beyond the hut, the celebration continued. Laughter and singing continued well into the late night, but within this hut, there was only the labored breathing, desperate gasps and pleased moans filling the space for hours on end. Time seemed to have slowed down, the world quieting.

He took you, claimed you over and over again. Your body was his, and his was yours. From this day and onwards, in this life and all of the lifetimes to come, you were his bride, the only one capable of stealing the heart of the feared conqueror of the grassland.

[decojellyfish]

So we saw Guard dog! ghost and kitten! reader

Rescued fighting dogs! Ghost and Soap with cat! reader

how about we get some of Price adopting a puppy! reader and reader having to learn the ropes from Older dogs! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz(maybe??)?

or just Price rescuing another former fighting dog! reader and them being all defensive against former fighting dogs! Ghost, Soap and Gaz(maybe??), maybe even fighting against them when they(soap) try to get too close for reader’s comfort

Thank you so much for being my second request!! I decided to go with the second prompt you offered me, and I had fun writing it! I just don't have fun making you guys cry because, fair warning, this one is gonna be angstyyy... 😔 But I hope you guys enjoy!

------

Bite

Hybrid AU! TF141 Retired Fight Dog! Gaz, Ghost, and Soap x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst

Warnings: Brief/occasional swearing, mentions of abuse, depression, extreme violence, trauma

───♡───────────── Beginning Your body ached. You didn’t know if it was because you were starving, or if it was your muscles and joints crying out for help from your most recent fight. It was a couple of hours ago, and it was rough. Your previous owner had disowned you when he found a new pup to use and abuse for profit. Part of you was happy, the years of abuse and ruthless training were over. The other part of you was absolutely terrified. You had no more food, no treats, no worn-out bed for you to sleep on, and no roof over your head.

You’d been homeless for nearly a year. You gave up on keeping exact track months ago. Your slightly sunken stomach never ceases its eternal growl, constantly yearning for food. Dumpster diving has become a part of your lifestyle. You had managed to find some food, albeit moldy and/or coated in garbage juices, but it was still food. ‘Food is fight fuel’ was constantly echoing through your head, while you fought off the sickness going through your head as realization set in that you were literally eating garbage. Sometimes, you even wondered if food was even worth it. You weren’t fighting as much as you used to. Sometimes you were suddenly assaulted by other stray fighter dogs as well, forcing you to live in constant paranoia, anxiety, and a never-ending feeling like you had to fight.

There were times that you even lashed out at strangers because of this constant fear. Domesticated dogs would find themselves abruptly thrown into a fight when you were around. They would leave with scratches, bites, bruises, and even chunks of flesh missing due to your fierce bite. In the underground fighting scene, you were most known for how gnarly the wounds from your bites would be.

This would result in animal control being called on you. But you’d evaded them countless times, which meant that you were far from where you originally came from. You would bounce from alley to alley, town to city. You were far from home if you could even call where you came from ‘a home’.

Though you were far from old enemies, you still made new ones. You were so used to lashing out that you were still getting into fights, but now you were getting into fights with fight dogs you didn’t even know.

Some days, you were tired. So tired, you just wanted to lay in your current alleyway and just rot. Let the bugs eat away at you, sometimes you even want to turn yourself into the pound. At least there you would have food in your belly and a semi-warm place to sleep. On other days, you were mad. So mad, you just wanted to paint the town red with any kind of blood, even your own.

Today was a tired day. You were lying against a wall, it was raining. Rain would be the closest you had to being bathed. Your rotted clothes were soaked and falling apart, your hair sticking to your face and skin as you stared at the opposing wall. Your eyes had nothing behind them, you were lost in your little world. Your happy place.

You imagined yourself in a cabin, or a cottage, just somewhere secluded and cozy. You had a loving partner, and pups of your own to take care of. A garden in the backyard, full of fruit, vegetables, and herbs. A flower garden in the front yard, full of daffodils, tulips, rose bushes, and trumpet lilies. You wore soft clothes like they were made of clouds. In your happy place, you were warm. In your happy place, you were safe.

Unfortunately, you were ripped out of your happy place by a smell. A familiar smell. Multiple familiar smells. Your heart had already started to beat rapidly, and the sense of adrenaline you had when in the fighting ring was coming back, slapping you in the face. You shifted your position from laying back against a wall to standing up and ready to fight, your teeth already beginning to show and a low growl slowly leaving your throat.

Familiar smells were never good, it meant that someone who had been made an enemy was close. Another fight was about to happen. You could hear men chatting with each other, though it was muffled by the ringing in your ear as your brain was now filled with nothing but adrenaline, panic, and one word. Fight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price was going on his weekly walk with his boys, all rescues. His home had become somewhat of a mini rehabilitation center. His pups, although fully grown dogs, were his pride and joy to be around. Gaz was his first rescue about seven years ago, Soap was rescued about two years after Gaz, and Ghost had been rescued three years before today. Price, himself, was a retired military veteran.

He enjoyed going on walks with his pups, he found it to be a nice bonding experience. Although today was rainy, it didn’t stop the group from following tradition. Gaz loved the rain, the sound and the feeling of raindrops hitting windows, umbrellas, or even himself was beyond calming for him. Soap didn’t particularly like rain, it mostly made him think of those unbelievably sad scenes in movies that involved rain, like an intense breakup. Ghost was neutral about it.

But Ghost found himself focused on something else, a smell. He glanced over at Soap, who could also smell this sudden scent. “Stop.” Ghost spoke firmly, grabbing Price’s shoulders and looking at the rest of the group. “Stay here, I smell something.” “Ghost, I don’t want you getting hurt-“ Price protested, only to be interrupted by Soap. “Stay, somethin’s here tha’ could rip out your throat.”

Gaz was worried as well, even though the scent wasn’t as familiar to him as it was to Ghost and Soap. He could smell a large amount of adrenaline and even panic or fear mixed in.

Ghost slowly walked up to the scent source and braced himself, slowly watching as a familiar face came into view. The two of you had been through plenty of fights together, each parting putting up a massive fight. You were snarling at him when he approached you, your body unconsciously moving closer to the wall, further away from him as he grew closer. Your hollow, starved appearance had him taken aback. You looked terrible. You were coated in scabs, bruises, and open wounds that had miraculously not gotten infected.

Your heart was beating so fast, that both you and Ghost could hear it. He had his hands up, his palms open as he showed he wasn’t looking for a fight. That didn’t stop you though. All you could see was all those fights, years ago. Ghost snarling back at you before he would nearly tear a chunk out of you while you almost ripped both of his ears off. You lunged at him with a loud bark, tackling him as you began to scratch and bite at him.

The group was startled, and terrified. They would all run to Ghost as they tried to get this rabid dog off of him. Of course, four men against you was an unfair fight and you were swiftly removed from the fight.

Soap held you against the ground, crouching over you as he pinned both of your arms behind your back as you continued to snarl and attempt to bite. You panted and stared at them with wide eyes, mostly focusing on Ghost and Soap since they were enemies from the past.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, aren’t you..?” You spoke shakily, to either of the boys. Soap could feel how strong and deep your breaths were as you hyperventilated.

All the men shared a glance of worry, Soap spoke up, “We’re not those dogs anymore.” Ghost would nod in shared agreement. “You don’t look so good, since the last time I saw you.” He looked down at you, noting how your stomach churned from hunger, how tired your eyes were, and your slightly raspy breath. Even your recent wounds worried him, some nearly looking like early stages of infection.

You grunted as you struggled under him, “Yeah, well, ‘m happy to see you guys living the high life.” You grumbled, the other dogs’ ears twitching as they heard a slight crack in your voice. You couldn’t ignore it, you were jealous. They didn’t look as tired as they did at your last fight, not on edge all the time, they looked well fed, and they smelled good too. And worst of all, what made you want to lash out at all of them, even their owner, was the fact that they looked happy with this new life. The life that you desired that always seemed to be out of reach.

All the men looked back at Price, Gaz included, with one question in their eyes. ‘Can we keep them?’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taking you back to their home was a fight in it of itself. You couldn’t help but be scared. Maybe they were all tricking you, maybe they were gonna lock you up in their house and sell you off to another owner in the underground fighting scene. Maybe they really were going to kill you. You only felt slightly safe with Gaz, but that’s because he didn’t look as scarred a fighter as Ghost and Soap, and his eyes held a safer gaze than the other two. He would hold your hand on the way home, firmly but protectively. However, he only did this after you attempted to run away from the group about 4 times.

Arriving at the Price household, there was an overwhelming amount of smells. Everything smelled like all the boys, but individually and in one unit all at the same time. You would stay close to the front door at the entrance, scared to step one foot further into the house. You still didn’t know if it was safe or not. Price respected this, though. He had Gaz let go of your hand so you could settle into the house at your own pace. The look of fear in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, he’d seen it in all his other boys when he first brought them home.

He had the boys all continue on with their night, only giving you directions to the bathroom in case you needed it at some point.

As time went on, your legs would grow tired of just standing. You remained seated, close to the door as you watched the household live out their lives. Price would only stop by you once for the night, and it was to give you a late-night snack and to wish you a good night. He had set down a plate with pieces of watermelon and a glass of water. He left after that, supposedly going to bed. The boys would stay up a bit later, they would watch you in secret. But you were quickly able to tell they were spying on you, however, you let them continue.

You saw it as a way to test if they were trustworthy. Your ears slightly twitch as you listen to their whispers.

“...how do you know them…?” Gaz would whisper, curiosity lacing his voice. “...Ghost and I have had a few tussles with ‘em years ago…” “...Fierce dog… don’t underestimate them…” Ghost grumbled in reply, Soap nodding in agreement. “...Nearly took mah whole face off…” Soap chuckled. “...They almost got my ears…” Ghost added.

You would faintly smile at the warning of underestimating you as a fighter dog. But then you were reminded that you were a fighter dog. And a successful one. Any moral being would never want to be a successful fighter dog. That meant you were scary and either could have killed or even mutilated another dog. Memories of all your fights would flash across your mind, like a blinding camera shot. Your successful ones, the ones where you would lose and your owner showed you what bad dogs get for losing. The bits of compassion you would feel for your opponent as they bleed out, or yowled in pain as their bones broke, pellets of skin torn off, or their bleeding gums from when you knocked nearly all their teeth out.

You wanted to hug them, apologize to them, tell them that you wished you could fix them. Only to have those moments of kindness wiped from your mind as the shrieks and cheers of your owner and the people who bet money on you were released into the air.

Coming back to reality, you were perplexed when you didn’t hear the whispers anymore. Taking a chance, you glanced up at the boys. Only to see that they were now staring at you, curious and worried. You didn’t know why they were staring until you heard a soft pit-pat against the floor beneath you.

Glancing down, you saw little droplets. Your hand instinctively raised to your face, feeling little beads of tears and the streaks they left behind on your face. You would quickly smear your tears away and shoot the dogs a mean growl before reluctantly stuffing a piece of watermelon into your mouth. You just wanted something else to focus on aside from the stares you were getting right now.

An hour later, the men had all gone to sleep and you had eaten all the food Price had given you and drank all the water he offered. You stayed awake throughout the whole night, however. You still didn’t trust anyone, believing the house was a trap.

Morning arrived, your eyes tired but still open as you didn’t want to lose your guard. Price was the first one up, yawning and scratching at his chest as he walked into the room. He would glance down at you, smiling when he saw you’d eaten all your food.

“Food was good, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll get you some more soon.” He chuckled, taking your empty dishes away and heading into the kitchen.

You felt awkward now, just sitting there as Price had begun to cook breakfast. You would quietly stand up and slink into the kitchen, sitting on the cold tile as you would watch him from a random corner of the room. It had been about ten minutes before Price would look over his shoulder to check on you, only seeing that you weren’t in your previous spot. He would then glance down at you in your new spot, chuckling to himself.

“Got bored of the old spot?” He asked before going back to cooking. He didn’t expect you to be speaking right out the gate, all the other boys were like that too when he first took them in. After a few minutes, Gaz would walk in, rubbing at his eye. A big smile formed on his face as he smelled the currently cooking food. “Smells good in here, Price.” He would then finally look at you, mildly surprised you had moved but he would regain his smile.

Waving at you, he would approach you but keep his distance. “Did you sleep well last night…?” You silently stared at him, your restlessness very obvious, especially in your eyes. “Did you sleep- at all last night…?” He looked concerned, his brows only furrowing more when you shook your head no. “...Too scared?” You stayed quiet. “That’s okay, Ghost and I were like that too.” He smiled at you. You couldn’t deny it, he was a comforting ball of sunshine to you.

“I could set up a bed on the couch for you, I could even keep the telly on for you if you like falling asleep to that sort of thing.” You remained quiet as he talked to you, causing him to let out a slightly amused but comforting huff. “That’s okay, you can think about it during breakfast.”

Breakfast included food that was the most delicious food you had devoured in years. French toast, fried eggs, bacon. You would quietly inhale the first actual meal you’d had in a long time, everyone else watching you at the kitchen table, some trying not to laugh at your eagerness.

You awkwardly stared at everyone else, wiping away some yolk on your mouth with your hand. Price chuckled, “That reminds me, we ought to give you a bath today and get you some new clothes.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awkwardly sat in the tub as Gaz would scrub a sudsy sponge along your back. Price was washing some clothes, making sure the scent was cleaned out so you had no trouble with wearing them.

“Don’t worry, I was like this when Price first took me in.” He laughed a little. “Quiet, scared, and I didn’t know if this place was my permanent home. But it is my home, and it’s gonna be your home too.” He smiled at you, now rubbing shampoo into your hair. “...what’s it like?” You looked up at him. “Y’know, living here? What’s it like?”

Gaz thought for a bit, also trying to make sure none of the shampoo got in your eyes. “Well, it’s nice. Good food, good clothes, good comfort. Price will sometimes pick up our favorite snacks for us, he’ll do that for you too, you just need to ask him or write it on the grocery list. We go on weekly walks around the block, sometimes we go to the park which is really fun. Especially with Soap, he really likes to play games at the park.”

That surprised you, you never took Soap to be a ‘fun games at the park’ kind of dog. Well, that could also be because you never got to see him or Ghost as a domesticated dog, your only memories of them being in the fighting rink. Maybe they have changed. Maybe you should give them a chance to show you they’ve changed.

Maybe they were doing that all along since they found you, only holding you down instead of attacking you in response to being attacked by an old foe.

The bath was eventually drained and you were dried off with a towel, Price coming in with a pair of folded up clothes, a t-shirt and some sweatpants. You were left alone in the bathroom to get dressed, also to let you just have time to yourself.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom in your new attire. You couldn’t lie, the clothes were beyond comfy and were nice and warm. Probably fresh out of the dryer. The rest of the boys were on the couch, watching a show on the TV. You would stare at them before slowly beginning to move your legs towards the couch as well.

They would notice your approaching, but wouldn’t bring any extra attention to it. They all remember their first time trying to get comfortable in the new home. It honestly warmed their hearts watching you hesitate on where to sit before eventually picking a spot and huddling into the soft pillows.

Price was already dressed for the day and was writing down the current shopping list before slipping his shoes on. “Oy, Gaz, you’re coming with me for groceries today.” He called out to the couch, Gaz promptly getting up and putting his own shoes on. He waved to you and the other two before stepping out the front door, Price giving a wave as well. “We’ll be back in 30.”

You sat there in silence, now stuck with your past enemies. There was tension, no doubt. At least, that’s what you felt. You were the one who was constantly looking over at the boys, a nervous sweat forming on your forehead. The two were just sitting there, watching the commercials play and pass by.

Now that the only pacifists in the house were gone, they were going to pounce at any second. You were sure of it. At any given moment, they were gonna do it. So you sat there, in a state of constant fear and bracing yourself for a fight you didn’t even know would happen.

Ghost noticed your condition, Soap a few seconds later would see it too. “... you okay, pup?” Soap would ask, seeing the little bits of sweat on your skin. “You’re scared.” Ghost stated, looking deep into your defensive form. “You don’t need to be, you’re safe now. We all are. We aren’t the same dogs you fought those years ago.”

They continued to watch you, watching as you stayed quiet and just stared at them expectantly. “We know you’re also no’ the same dog from those fights. Ye dinnae have a choice, only doin’ tha’ for your own survival. Like us.” Soap’s eyes were full of empathy and concern.

“No need to be scared. It’s safe here.” He smiled at you, slowly reaching out to you to rub your shoulder.

You only saw the worst in people, you would see a possible future where he was reaching out to strangle you instead of comforting you. You thought you could see his teeth start to bare, maybe he was snarling at you.

You felt like you were back in the fighting ring. You could feel the adrenaline begin pulsing and coursing through your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You didn’t know how you did it, it went by so fast. The last thing you saw was Soap’s teething smile and his hand. Now you were pressed up against a wall, hyperventilating at the sight of what you just did.

First, you  grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground before you began to bite and tear at his flesh and clothes. You woke up when Ghost pinned you to the ground, keeping your wrists together so you couldn’t hurt anyone or yourself. You scrambled away from him and coward into a corner.

You thought you were doing good, only a day into this house and you were doing so good. You didn’t feel like a good pup, not anymore. You weren’t deserving of this house, these new clothes. the food that resided in your stomach. You were a bad dog. There was no way you could look any of the boys in the eye now. Not after what you did.

Lost in a tsunami of your thoughts, you couldn’t hear Ghost trying to reassure you, that it was normal for an outburst like this to happen. He, himself, did it to Price. He brought Soap to the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit along with a few extra bandages. Living in a house with a bunch of retired fighter dogs, the first aid kits would be a bit more extreme than a regular, everyday one.

When he returned to check on you, to tell you that Soap was going to be okay, he didn’t see you in your corner. Not even the spot you were in on your first day here. But he saw that right next to the spot, the door was left open.

They lost you. ───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, or asks, feel free to submit them!

[justauthoring]

jerk [3].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate. requested -> me begging for another soulmate fic with bakugou 😔😔🤲🏻 requested by -> anonymous

a/n: something a little happy and fluffy for the episode today :) truthfully, i don't even know what this is...

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one. part two.

You liked to think you were good at picking up certain signs.

Bakugou, however, clearly thought the opposite.

U.A. was doing an interactive training program with other schools. This was necessarily anything new, you’ve done them plenty of times now; but what was new was this time you had a soulmate.

Or, rather, you were with your soulmate.

That in of itself was anything new. Lots of people had soulmates and although it was rarer to find yours when you were quite young, as young as you and Bakugou were, it wasn’t unheard of. As you watch the multiple of young heroes in training, just like you, run around, you pick up on the certain singles of bonded pairs.

Two girls walking hand in hand, with beaming smiles on their faces and cheeks rosy from the simple intimacy of their actions. You see a boy pressing a chaste kiss to a girl’s cheek in a corner a few feet away from you, the girl responding with a laugh and half-hearted attempt to bat away the boys wandering lips. Two boys training together on one of the allotted stages, which to any normal gaze looks like nothing special, but you pick up on the way their hearts race and their eyes dance across each other's figures in a burst of excitement because of your quirk.

So, no, you weren’t the only one and certainly not when it came to the world. Of course not.

It was still weird though. At least to you. Bakugou and you have been together for a few months now and at this point you’ve grown used to the relationship. There was even a sense of dependency you felt towards Bakugou, a way that your heart yearned for him in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

The two of you got along great. He made you laugh and smile more than anyone ever had and you seemed to be good at helping him see things through a clearer, calmer lens. There were nights shared together, just the two of you, where hours would pass that felt like seconds of pure bliss as you both simply talked. It was nothing special, if anything it was especially ordinary, but it flooded you with warmth and love and you cherished every second of it.

Things were good. Great.

But in the eyes of others, Bakugou wasn’t a big fan of PDA. He’d do it sometimes; he didn’t mind holding your hand or kissing you quickly after class, things like that. Overall though, his more intimate actions were shared behind closed doors and away from prying eyes and you had no problem with it.

You actually appreciated it. You liked having those special moments where it was just the two of you and no one else. It made them more cherished in your heart.

Bakugou, however, seemed to have no problem with PDA when it came beyond just the eyes of your classmates.

All the different classes had been given a free afternoon; meaning, students were free to choose to focus on whatever they sought best. It was, as Aizawa-sensei explained to your class, an opportunity to better get to know fellow-heroes-in-training and honestly, you’d been very excited at first. There was a group of girls that had quirks you thought meshed well with yours and you’d wanted to talk to them.

That had been the plan.

But Bakugou wouldn’t leave your side! Beyond that, it wasn’t just him hovering nearby, it was him constantly keeping a hand on you and not letting you leave his side. You didn’t necessarily mind if Bakugou came with you until you realized that he seemed to scare every person away from him, which, in turn, meant from you.

“You’re pouting.”

Huffing, you turn away from Bakugou; “I'm annoyed.”

“Is it wrong that I want to spend time with my girlfriend?” Bakugou quirks a challenging brow at you, smirking.

“No,” you roll your eyes. “But you scare everyone away.”

“Oi.”

“It’s true!”

Sighing, there’s an echoed moment of silence before Bakugou frowns down at you. “I’m just worried about you.”

Shifting so his arm is no longer around your waist and rather you’re holding it, you glance up at him; “we’re literally surrounded by a bunch of heroes-in-training.” Then, pausing, you add somewhat spitefully; “which includes me.”

Bakugou just shakes his head; “I know.”

“Katsuki,” you call, reaching forward to brush your fingers across his cheek in the way you know he likes. Instantly, the tension in his face eases; something that never fails to make you smile. “We’re supposed to be mingling.”

He scoffs. “You sound like shitty hair.”

“Because Eijirou is right,” you challenge.

Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, Bakugou hesitates; “what do they matter? They’re a bunch of extras anyway.”

“I thought we were done calling our friends extras,” you remind.

“They’re not our friends.”

“Katsuki.”

“Fine,” he snaps, face pinched in clear annoyance but a certain frustration in the fact that he knows you’re right. “I’ll leave you and ‘mingle’,” he makes sure to add the air quotes. “But only for an hour. Then I'll find you and we’re gonna do some training.”

“Yes,” you nod, “of course. Naturally.”

Your words are teasing but said with a certain fondness. Bakugou was always training and it was clearly a hobby of his that he wanted to share with you – honestly, sometimes his training sessions were absolute hell but you’d put up with them for his sake.

With a final nod and a kiss, Bakugou stomps off. Distantly, you hear him shouting ‘shitty-hair’ but you figure Kirishima can deal with his clingy ass for an hour while you go and meet some new people. 

And for the first forty minutes, it goes well. You’re bouncing from area to area, meeting new people and chatting with them, even sparring with a few. It’s great. You loved your class and your friends, but it was so interesting getting new perspectives from different people that were training in different ways than U.A. typically did. It was absolutely invigorating and you were reveling in every second of it.

Until you come across a boy named Aoto.

The conversation starts fine; he kind of runs into you but you laugh it off and learn he’s actually from a school located in America that had come down to Japan for this huge hero event. You compliment him on his Japanese, finding it amazing that he nails the pronunciation of words so well and falls into an eased conversation. Then, as the minutes pass by, the conversation starts to shift into a stranger topic.

Aoto asks if you’ve found your soulmate – it’s rather sudden and not something you’re really expecting. Still, you tell him you have and he asks if it was the blonde boy he’s seen glued to your side the entire day; it’s said with a certain edge you’re thrown off by and that’s where you start to grow a little weary.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. “Katsuki. The way we found out is actually a funny story—”

“Isn’t he the one that the League of Villains took when he was in his first year?”

Your lips are left parted from his sudden interruption, but instantly your eyes narrow at his tone. “The League of Villains kidnapped him,” you say warily, somewhat defensively. “But Katsuki fought to get away and never once even considered their offer to join them—”

“Yeah,” Aoto cuts you off again, dismissing you with a single wave of his hand. “But isn’t he the reason why All Might had to retire too?”

Instantly, all pretense disappears. You’d already been annoyed but your face shifts into something nasty at his insinuation; even more because you knew that was something that still haunted Bakugou to this day. It wasn’t true, of course, but you knew that it still remained on his mind constantly.

“All Might fought to save one of his students,” you hiss, taking a step back from him. “And it isn’t Katsuki's fault the fight ended that way.”

“I don’t know,” Aoto hums, “someone like that? I wouldn’t care if he was my soulmate, I’d stay away from him. He’s quite terrifying too, I’d bet that if given another chance he wouldn’t hesitate to join—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as he suddenly falls to his knees, clutching his head in pain as he lets out a cry. You step towards him as he does, letting him wallow in pain for a moment longer before letting go. Aoto instantly falls back the second he does, staring up at you in disbelief and fear as you glare down at him; 

“You don’t know the first thing about Katsuki. So don’t pretend you do.”

Aoto just sputters up at you, eyes wide, practically shaking.

Then, a familiar voice calls out; “Y/N?”

You spin, face easing the second you meet Bakugou’s. He’s walking towards you, confused eyes flickering between you and Aoto, who's still on the ground, before Bakugou finally registers the look on your face and instantly, Bakugou’s eyes narrow.

“Did this damn extra do something to you?”

Rushing forward, you catch Bakugou by the arm before he can reach Aoto, pulling him towards you; “Katsuki. Katsuki! It’s fine, it’s okay!”

Bakugou just shakes his head as Aoto stares fearfully up at him, looking near tears.

“No, it’s not,” Bakugou growls, “if he hurt you or said anything—”

Shifting, you press both of your hands against Bakugou’s cheeks, cupping them and forcing him to meet your eyes. He’s panting and his eyes are wild but he instantly focuses on you, gaze softening.

“Let’s just go,” you whisper, “I just wanna spend time with you.”

That catches his attention. All anger wipes from his face instantly and Bakugou is instantly easing in your grasp, face brightening as slowly nods, moving to take your head in his own and threading his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand, sending one last frightening glance Aoto’s way before walking off, leading you with him.

Then, a few minutes later when it’s just the two of you, Bakugou smirks down at you; 

“Thought you wanted to ‘mingle’.”

Grinning, you shrug; “it’s more fun with you.”

[dollfacefantasy]

NOT A TOY! ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you and rick play around with the piece holstered to his belt

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, gun play (humping it), praise/degradation

wc: 1.4k

a/n: um sorry gang i wanted this to be longer but my brain wasn't working when i wrote it and it lowkey still is not 😔 based on this ask tho which i loved. i hope you guys like it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 22 - gun play

"You like this?" he asks, feigned disgust dripping from each syllable, "Dirty fuckin' girl."

"It feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

He chuckles at that, the sound coming out raspy and low. It's accompanied by the smirk on his face. The nearby light of the lantern makes his eyes look as though they're flickering with amusement at the position you're in.

The two of you were on watch for the night shift. While the sun set behind the tree line, you each climbed up into the tower that sat along the wall. Both of you started off focused on the task at hand. You kept your eyes forward, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble, walker or human.

But as had been the norm for your time in Alexandria so far, nothing happened. No staggering figures emerged from the woods, nor did any cars creep down the road. You sat in the two chairs perched up there and talked back and forth about different things. You vented about different people in the group, shared stories about your lives in the old world, just normal stuff.

As the hours stretched on, you grew tired and migrated into Rick's lap. He let you settle in against his chest, expecting you to rest there for the remaining time. But like it normally went for the two of you, being so close meant you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

It started with simple making out. Your lips moved with one anothers in slow, open-mouthed kisses. His hands swept over your figure, stopping every so often to grope at your thighs or hips. He spun you around on his lap after a while to get you situated in a position to ride him.

In doing so, he went to move his gun out of its holster. The cool wooden finish of the grip brushed over your thigh, and the sensation sent a visible shudder through your body. 

His brows had raised with curiosity. Testing the idea, he dragged the weapon up your leg, and you shivered again.

"Feel somethin' good, sweetheart?" he asked.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, timidity gleaming over the small spheres. You responded with a little nod, and that was how you ended up here. The gun lodged between your thighs, the smooth grip pressed right up against your damp panties. 

You rut on the weapon like a puppy in heat - back and forth, back and forth. You're not sure if it's the thrill of using something so inherently dangerous as an object of pleasure or just something about the even curve of it that has you even more whiny than usual.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, dragging the fabric of his shirt up between them. His free hand not keeping the gun secure holds your chin. You want to drop your head back so bad. Your eyes are already so droopy with lust. You want to just melt and let loose, but he keeps you locked in this moment with him.

"Look at you. So desperate. You'll rub up on anything if it gets you off, huh?" he whispers.

Your head bobbles in his grasp, nodding yes.

"Mhm. As long as it feels good you don't care," he tuts. He boosts one of his legs to knock you closer. You topple forward further into his chest and stay there, accepting the warm expanse as refuge from the stimulation down below.

"Not my fault," you whimper, "Just feels so good."

"I bet it does," he chuckles.

Carefully, he angles the firearm upwards a bit more, letting your clit bump on the end of the grip. A sharp whine shoots from your lips, so he knows it was the right move.

You don't worry about anything right now. In this moment, it's just you and him. There's nothing to think about but humping the object below you like your life depends on it. You don't even worry about your own speed or force or anything. If there's anyone in this world you'd trust to do this with, it's Rick.

Rick who's intensely familiar with guns from his years on the force before this. Rick who's piece stays attached to his hip at all times. Rick who looks at you like you're the most precious being on earth, but who also can't get enough of reminding you what a little slut you can be. He's the only one who gets you to this level of depravity.

"Harder, baby. I know you can do better than this," he teases near your ear. You feel his breath tickle your skin, the sensation sending chills all across your heated flesh.

You try to follow what he says and press yourself down with more force. The smooth handle slots between your folds. You whine as you feel the increase in pressure, so close against you the contact almost feels direct.

His hands around back knead your ass. He gives it a small smack, beckoning you to keep up the pace.

"Want you to make yourself cum all over it. Get it all messy for me," he breathes, "I know those cute little panties are already soaked."

Your eyes flit down as if you didn't know that. His gaze follows in suit, a small laugh coming out of him. The more you rut on top of him, the darker the wet patch on the front of the delicate garment becomes. The sticky fabric adds to the friction though, making your release approach faster.

"F-fuck," you whimper. Your body tightens up at the impending sensation. The edge is right there. You don't think you could stop now if you wanted to.

"That's right, sweetheart. Making me proud. You're actin' like the perfect whore for me. Keep it up," he mumbles, each word only spurring you on.

You keep bucking your hips. Your grasp on him tightens. Your chest puffs in smaller intervals as you feel yourself racing towards the finish line. When you finally crest the peak, your back arches. You let out a strangled cry. Your body continues to rock brokenly on top of the object.

He grabs your chin again and pulls your face from where it'd been smooshed against his chest. His fingers direct you upward, forcing you to look at him.

"Look in my eyes while you cum, darlin'. Look at who's making you feel this good," he says.

Your cheeks fill with heat at the intensity of his gaze. Despite your instinct to look away, you keep your pupils locked on his blue irises, taking in all of the desire swirling there. Everything hits you harder. You tremble even more as the thing between your legs continues bringing you pleasure.

He chuckles and  drops his hand from your face. Once you're beginning the downward slope, he rubs your back, soothing you through it.

"Good girl. Let it all out. I've got you," he murmurs.

He keeps a firm hold on you, ensuring you don't fall off his lap. You continue on shuddering and riding out the rest of the high, but soon enough your body begins to settle. It feels like you're melting down into his chest. Every part of you loosens. You let out a deep sigh. And your eyes flutter.

His hand slithers down between the two of you to carefully extract his gun from the junction of your legs. He slides it out, briefly admiring the small sheen coating it. You scoot closer to be further in his arms as you hear him set the weapon on the table beside you.

He holds you there for a moment, letting you calm down. It's dark out now. Everything's quiet except for the sound of your breathing. His fingers massage the nape of your neck while he looks out at the pitch black expanse outside the walls.

Even though his attention resides elsewhere for the moment, when you shift around, you feel his bulge nudging the plush underside of your thighs. Reaching down, your fingers toy with the button on his jeans.

That same smug expression from earlier returns to his face as his eyes find yours again.

"You want more already?" he teases.

"That was just the warm up. I want the real thing," you say with a tiny smile.

"The real thing, huh? Greedy girl," he tuts playfully. But he adjusts his position a little in a way that you know you're gonna get what you want. "Let's see if you can handle the real thing without waking everybody up."

[merakiui]

Rollo pullout game prolly weak af

Atrociously weak… 😔 especially if he’s fucking you in missionary. He’s a freak second. Romance comes first. Every time he fucks you in this position he does it like he’s trying to knock you up or make love to you as if you’re newlyweds consummating your marriage. OTL

He can’t help it. >_< you’re so warm and wet, clinging to his dick so sinfully, and your soft breaths are music to his ears, and it feels so good doing it raw. Why would he pull out and ruin something so amazing? Isn’t it better to push deeper inside, as deep as he can get, just so he can empty everything where it’s meant to go? I think he secretly has a breeding kink and would love nothing more than to start a family with you. He treasures family and perhaps his fondness for it has grown after meeting you.

But also,,, you can’t expect him to pull out if you wrap your legs around his waist to lock him in place… that’s just giving him even more reason to cum inside!! He needs to. He must.

Rollo went into it thinking he’d never succumb to the filthy temptation of cumming inside, but now he’s three creampies in and you’re definitely getting a baby one of these days. ^^;;;

[honeyydrunk]

nct are such fraternity boy college athletes fuckboys coded it's insane !! everyone i see a video of those men with the homosexual tendencies, vaping addiction, and their athletic garments, it really only cements this theory. their disography and music videos add to this too 😔✋ u know 90's love, universe (let's play ball), alley oop, bad alive eng ver.

can imagine them walking around this elite prestigious campus all loud and obnoxious. they know everyone is looking at them and want to fuck them too. they're chronic drinkers, vapers, cheaters, fuckboys. what would get most students expelled, they do on a tuesday afternoon.

nct are mostly made up of foreigners right? watch them walk around the campus as rich international students, some are here on academic or athletic scholarships they don't need. everything they own is designer. playing the 'sorry my korean isn't so good, can you help me?' card, and what they want help with is you sucking their dick.

the korean members aren't any better. they're every single horrible stereotype you hear of korean hongdae fuckboys. will come up to you all sweet and pretty, but they're horrid.

cw for under the cut: they are toxic males

can literally imagine haechan vaping on the college campus, moaning in the back of the class obnoxiously, and pulling the thing where he jokingly asks for your number ALL THE TIME. going to college parties and getting wasted after 3 drinks idk 🤷 ,,, he'd be so whiny and teasing too. bc obviously he's a rude BITCH but he's so pretty and whiny and flirtatious. he's fucking everything in sight, absolute whore!! his body count is triple his age. he'd genuinely try to suck one of his friends' dick and claim it doesn't mean anything because he has clothes on !! 😔✋ he'd be stroking his dick while you're in the room, whimpering your name. the type to get on his knees and beg for any kind of attention from you..

mark lee starting off being a cute college boy canadian transfer but becomes the NOTORIOUS korean pastor's son fuckboy in like the span of 3 months. he'll act real nice, and that's because he is real nice. being super sweet and asking if you want to get coffee with him and study. and he's so good with his words you'll think that's all it is. but then of course, since he's so good with his words he'll have you blushing and giggling as he takes you back to his apartment and gets your clothes off. talking yapping so much you don't even realise what he has you doing, that you're just another girl he's pulled. he'll still be whispering when his face is in your pussy. telling you how easily you cum. "dang girl, wait a lil' can't you?" implying you're the whore,

YUTA yuta is the entire campus crush. the star football ⚽️ player and the rockstar vocalist in a band. has sex with all the groupies that come to his concerts. he's dragging people up on stage to shotgun them while the guitar break plays. absolute heartbreaker. would definitely kick the ball to your head so that when it hits you, he has to go over check if you're alright, take you up to the nurse and wait with you. he is such a liar, it genuinely hurts. lying all the time and making up words and stories left and right. but he smells like cherries and watery perfume !! he tastes like it too. you'll be coming to all his garage concerts just to see if you'll be the one he takes backstage to fuck after. he's like a god, half the time you don't even realise he's a student like the rest of you. he's just an angel sent to have fun and fuck or smth.

jaemin nah he's horrid. he'll cheat on you, and with his cute smile you'll forgive him instantly. 😔✋ he'll spend a little cash dress you in designer, make you cum until you faint, and tell you how beautiful and perfect you are for him. he will genuinely have you thinking those girls meant nothing to him, theyre just a way to vent his stress and you're the only one he loves. and then bro will say he can't stay the night, as he needs to wake up early for training. you agree, obviously. and he left for another girl's house to fuck her too. when you met him he smelled so sweet, and it was someone else's perfume. each of his girls swear they're his favourite of his, and one day he's planning fucking them all in the same room.

JOHNNY SUH? he would abuse the american transfer student status. he walks around without a shirt, soaking wet, and never get pulled up. he's rich too, got bands on his wrist and multiple cars. going on holidays overseas every chance he get and hosting parties every weekend. when you get drunk at one of them, almost falling off the balcony, someone will come up and help you to a chair. he'll take real good care of you, going above and beyond. so you can't let this guy leave when he's everything you've ever wanted. so you pull yourself onto him and ride him while the party rages on inside. make sure his dick feels so good he'll ask for your number. but you don't know that you're the fifth girl who's thrown herself at him that night.

taeyongie ^-^ he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen. bros too sweet and shy to be handing out with the rest of the neo WHORES. he's the leader of a lot of clubs but he mainly sits in cute little cafes. genuinely he seemed too adorable? to be considered the 'leader' of some horrific ahh fuckboys. until you check twitter and you see someone's reposted his MANY MULTIPLE HE HAS A LOT sex tapes. he's surrounded by ridiculously hot guys and girls, and they're passing him around like a joint, and he's begging to be humiliated. they're making him cum so much he crying. he's stronger than most of them but he's letting himself be thrown around like a doll. absolutely wrecked. looking in the camera with pretty black eyes and a slurred voice before someone shoves a cock back in this throat "am i pretty?" zhong chenle is the epitome of the chinese international student stereotype. he's almost never there, never takes off his sunglasses. he has several of those douyin type baddies trailing after him. "you have nice collarbones and pretty eyes, i like. what's your instagram?" he'll be talking with his friend renjun about what yacht he should buy during class. he can buy your affection simply because he's just that rich. will shove his black card down his pants and tell you there's only one way to get it. buys rolex watches so that he can have it on while he fingers you. dresses you in diamonds and he doesn't want to be paid back in cash. qian kun is there on an academic scholarship, but he doesn't need it. he's just that good, the school begs to have him attend. he's not a fuckboy in the conventional sense but he's just as nasty. he wants to have the perfect girl for him, to bring back to his family. he'll look for the most naive but academic girl he can. he's a manipulator. he's trying to mold you into what he wants. he'll replace your entire wardrobe with designer, but he picked out all the clothes. he'll plan cute dates for you every day, but it's to stop you from hanging out with your skanky friends. he'll buy you a new phone, but he's already added software tech to spy on you. in some essences, even though he's not a fuckboy, he's much worse than one.

jisung, like taeyong, looks so sweet. but he's NASTY. he'll seem too quiet to be hanging out with the rest of the dreamie WHORES. so you don't mind sitting next to him in your lecture. but he's just a mix of all of dream. he's good with his words like mark, and he'll have you agreeing to meet at his place EASY. he's too cute to refuse like haechan and jaemin. and then the renjun part hits, silent and sneaky, he'll be doing everything to make you think you're coming on to him. once he finally has you, he'll make a mess of you like a feral animal, the way you've heard jeno fucks. and you realise he's just like the rest of the dreamies, you shouldn't have thought otherwise. he might actually be worse than all of them.

tell me if u want me to make these like a full post or add more characters IM SO CRAZY DELULU RN SORRY xx !! 💋

[halucynator]

False Fronts

part 1 of 4

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: fake dating, arguing, not proof read and my writing 😔

Summary: Being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. You, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to Theodore Nott.

there will most definitely be a part 2

i will absolutely credit @berryzxx for helping me and giving me ideas for this haha

sorry if anyone's name is Jess ily i swear mwah <;33

he's such a cutie tehe

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff angst

You were going about your usual business, wandering the empty corridors of Hogwarts. The prospect of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, particularly with Umbridge as the professor, filled you with dread. Determined to delay your arrival as much as possible, you lingered, reluctant to head to your lesson.

As you strolled through the corridors, distant murmurs reached your ears. Tracing their origin, the faint echoes evolved into a heated dispute—a boy and a girl embroiled in a passionate disagreement. Step by step, you closed the distance until their fervent voices became distinct and clear.

"Look, Jess, it's over. O-V-E-R." You could hear the boy say to someone who you could only assume was called Jess.

"But I don't want it to be over! I still love you! Please, I'm sorry!" The girl, presumably Jess, begged.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you went and cheated on me." His response cut through the air, chilling in its icy tone, sending unwelcome shivers down your spine. Whoever he was, his disdain for Jess was palpable. His voice was unmistakable, you having heard it all your life. You knew who it was.

He sauntered off, leaving both Jess and you dumbfounded. Peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the boy, you inadvertently crashed into the very person—Theodore Nott—you were trying to observe.

As you collided with Theodore Nott, his demeanor shifted from the tense confrontation to one of mild surprise, his dark eyes locking with yours in an unexpected encounter. You stumbled back a step, catching your breath as you met his gaze, both of you momentarily stunned by the abrupt intersection.

"Y/N," Theodore uttered your name, a flicker of recognition dancing across his features before settling into a composed mask. "Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

Your mind raced, trying to process the scene you'd just witnessed. His confrontation with Jess seemed far more serious than a typical teenage quarrel. Sensing your curiosity, Theodore's expression shifted a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Listen," he started, his voice lowering to a hushed tone as if sharing a secret. "I need a favor, and I think you might be the perfect solution."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Theodore hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"Jess won't leave me alone. She's been causing a scene ever since things ended between us. I need... I need someone to help me out, to pretend to be with me, just to get her off my back. It's purely for appearances, nothing more."

His request hung in the air, unexpected and oddly intriguing. Theodore Nott, asking for your assistance in a situation as serious as this. You weighed his words, contemplating the implications of what he proposed, your mind swirling with questions about why he'd chosen you for such a peculiar task.

"Please. I'll ask nothing more of you. Just some PDA. Slight touches, whatever you're comfortable with."

The allure of being close to him warred with the fear of playing a role in a situation that could easily spin out of control. Yet, despite the inner turmoil, a glimmer of hope danced in your chest—an opportunity to be near Theodore, even if it was only as part of a facade.

You'd been friends with Theo for what felt like forever. He trusted you, and that meant a lot. Sure, there was that fear of being stuck in the friend zone, but when you thought about it, the chance to help him seemed more important. He wanted this, and he was your friend. So, yeah, you wanted to be there for him.

After a moment's hesitation, you gathered your resolve and nodded in agreement, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fury of emotions raging within you. "Alright, Theodore. I'll help you out."

A flicker of relief crossed Theodore's face, a barely perceptible shift in his expression that hinted at gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one."

As the weight of your decision settled in, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of what you'd just agreed to. Theodore's proposal was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and the realization that you were about to embark on a fake relationship with someone you genuinely cared for made your heart race with both anticipation and anxiety.

Theodore glanced around, as if to ensure no one else was nearby, before leaning in closer. "Let's meet later today and discuss how we're going to pull this off, alright? Preferably somewhere private."

Nodding in agreement, your mind raced with a million questions, but you managed to offer a reassuring smile. "Sure, Theodore. I'll be there."

As he walked away, you were left standing there, your mind spinning. The whole idea was thrilling, but it also felt like stepping onto a rollercoaster without knowing the twists and turns ahead. For now, all you could do was wait and meet up with Theodore and realise the depths of the situation you just put yourself into.

Either way, this fake dating thing just became your reality, and you had no clue where it would lead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hello, hi! read part 2 here :))

[belqva]

₊˚⊹౨ THE MORNING (R.C.) ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: drugs, alcohol, toxic friends, intoxication, language, dealing, one mention of reader skipping meals

summary: At a wild party, you confront a tense reunion with Rafe Cameron, your best friends ex, while reluctantly buying drugs for a friend. The events of the night leave you more confused than ever.

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I definitely wanted this to be longer but oh what can I do 😔🖐️ it’s becoming a habit of mine to write fics and leave them on a cliffhanger lol sorry !! I feel like it gives me motivation that I’ll write a sequel in the future yk? Anyway the reader is in a really toxic female friend group and two of the girls are named Taylor and Anya but you can just ignore that if u want to <33 as always I hope u enjoy!!🤍

The overwhelming smell of weed, alcohol, and expensive, overly lavish perfume filled the dimly lit room of the massive mansion hosting another one of the infamous Friday night parties. A party isn’t a party without booze and molly, right? Some spoiled rich kid was celebrating nothing in particular, just throwing a party because they could. The entire house was packed with girls in their skimpiest outfits and boys flaunting wristwatches that probably cost more than your monthly salary. You could barely hear yourself think as loud trap music pounded over the constant chatter and drunken shouting. The dim house flickered with occasional strobe lights, the only real illumination being from the ceiling light, modified to shift between dark blue and red.

It wasn’t really your scene. You weren’t a party animal or particularly popular. You hovered somewhere between the Pogue and Kook worlds. Your family wasn’t exactly poor, but they didn’t have enough money to land you the "full Kook" status either. However, most of your friends were full-on Kooks—girls who got Range Rovers for their sixteenth birthdays. You had known them since kindergarten, and despite your differences, you’d tagged along with them throughout middle and high school. You fit in well enough, thanks to your natural looks and careful attention to fashion—even if it meant skipping meals to buy a nice dress.

So here you were, like many Friday nights before, out with the same group of girls. Most of them were either drunk, high, or both. The only one who wasn’t fully wasted was Anya. She was the closest thing your group had to a leader and the main reason you hadn’t been kicked out of their tight-knit circle. Anya was smart and stunningly gorgeous, with her silky blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was effortlessly perfect in a way that made everyone want to be her. And, as you’d noticed tonight, she was completely off her game.

She sat beside you on the expensive beige couch, her mood noticeably different from usual. She’d had a few shots and maybe smoked a little, but nothing more—uncharacteristic for her at a party like this. Concern tugged at you, and you leaned toward her.

"Is everything okay, Ani?" you asked, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders and resting your chin on her.

She shrugged, her icy blue eyes avoiding yours. Anya was wearing a pink tube top, a mini leather skirt, and platform heels—an outfit far too gorgeous for a casual party. It was obvious she was dressing to impress someone. You knew her well enough to see that something was wrong.

"Come on, tell me," you pressed, trying to lighten the mood. "Future Anya will be mad if I don’t cheer you up because, as you’d say, 'we only have a limited number of Friday nights in our short youth.'"

Anya cracked a small smile. "Yeah, you’re right," she said softly, "she would be mad."

"So, what’s going on?" you asked again. "You can tell me. I won’t say anything to the others."

She hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers. You watched her closely, sensing her inner turmoil. Finally, she sighed. "Did you see who's selling the sugar tonight?" she asked quietly, referring to the drugs.

You shook your head. "No, I haven’t really walked around much." You felt uneasy. The last thing you wanted to get involved in was drugs, even if most of your friends were on a first-name basis with dealers.

Anya bit her lip. "It’s Rafe."

Your heart skipped a beat. Rafe Cameron. The name brought back a flood of memories. He was the golden boy, the heartbreaker, and for a while, he was Anya’s. They had dated for a few months during senior year, and she had been head over heels for him. But Rafe had shattered her heart, and she had never fully recovered. Now it made sense why she was acting out of character tonight.

"Rafe’s here?" you asked, not sure how to feel about the revelation.

Before Anya could answer, Taylor—one of the drunker members of your group—stumbled over and collapsed into your lap, giggling uncontrollably. You caught her before she fell completely, but the interruption was enough to break the moment between you and Anya.

Anya’s expression hardened immediately, her walls going back up. "Great," she muttered under her breath, getting up from the couch abruptly. "I’m going to get a drink."

"Anya—" you started, but she was already weaving through the crowd.

Taylor, oblivious to the tension, grinned up at you. "Why so serious, babe?" she slurred, patting your cheek playfully. "Come on, have some fun!"

You sighed, helping her sit up properly. "Maybe later," you mumbled. Your mind was still on Anya, on Rafe. You couldn’t just let it go. If he was the one dealing tonight, no wonder Anya was upset.

As if reading your mind, Taylor handed you a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. "Can you grab something for me? He won’t sell to me anymore, I’ve been back too many times."

Normally, you would’ve refused. But this was your chance to figure out what was really going on. "Yeah, sure," you said, standing up.

"Really? You?" Taylor blinked, surprised at your sudden willingness. "Well, okay! Don’t get lost, babe," she teased, giving you a playful shove.

Ignoring her, you made your way through the crowd toward the back of the mansion where the drug deals usually went down. Your heart pounded in your chest as you neared the area. And then, there he was — Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was seated at a table surrounded by his usual entourage. His shirt was crisp and white, his hair neatly shaved, and he looked more muscular than you remembered. He had a dark, commanding presence, the kind that made it hard to look away. He was cutting lines of powder, expertly dividing them into neat little baggies.

You swallowed hard, your nerves on edge. This was a bad idea, but there was no turning back now.

As you approached the table, Rafe’s sharp blue eyes locked onto you, freezing you in place. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was cold, and for a moment, you wished you could disappear.

"I—uh—I’m here to buy," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the music.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, scanning you from head to toe. You felt vulnerable under his gaze, like he could see straight through you. After a tense moment, he leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Since when do you do this shit?" he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

"I don’t," you blurted. "It’s not for me. One of my friends asked me to—"

Rafe cut you off, holding up a hand. "Let me guess. Taylor?"

You nodded, feeling even more ridiculous. Why was he making this so hard?

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course. Always sending someone else to do her dirty work." He leaned forward, his eyes still trained on you. "You shouldn’t be mixed up in this, Y/N."

His use of your name surprised you. You hadn’t thought he even knew who you were. "I—I’m not. I’m just doing a favor," you muttered.

Rafe reached for the hundred-dollar bill you were holding out, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. His touch was electric, sending a jolt through you that you weren’t expecting.

"Here’s the thing," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don’t want to see you coming back here again. Got it?"

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. "What?"

Rafe leaned in closer, his gaze piercing. "This isn’t your scene. You don’t belong here, and trust me, you don’t want to get involved with people like me. Stay away from this stuff, Y/N."

You didn’t know how to respond. There was something unsettling about the way he was looking at you, something that made your pulse race for reasons you couldn’t explain. Was he really concerned about you? Or was this some twisted game he was playing?

Before you could say anything else, he handed you the tiny baggies. "Take this to Taylor. And remember what I said."

You nodded quickly, snatching the drugs and turning on your heel, eager to escape the intensity of his gaze. As you weaved your way back through the crowd, your mind was racing. What had just happened? Why had Rafe Cameron, of all people, decided to lecture you? And why did it feel like he cared?

Back at the couch, Taylor greeted you with a sloppy grin, grabbing the drugs from your hand. "You’re the best!" she slurred, not noticing the dazed look on your face.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. The way he had looked at you, the way his voice had dropped to a low, dangerous whisper—it all left you feeling more confused than ever. You shouldn’t care about him. He was trouble, the kind of trouble you had no business getting involved with.

Yet, deep down, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d find yourself in front of Rafe Cameron.

-

The night drew on, but you couldn’t shake the encounter with Rafe. His words echoed in your mind, conflicting emotions pulling at you. You should have been worried about Anya, about her unresolved feelings for him, but your thoughts kept circling back to his piercing gaze, the way he warned you. It was almost as if he had seen you, really seen you, beyond just another party girl.

And that was dangerous.

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF OUTER BANKS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, EXCEPT FOR THE ONES CREATED BY ME, DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[seungkwanniee]

pairings : boyfriend!seventeen x fem!reader

genre : angst

warnings : toxicity , cursing words , mention of death , being manipulate , love bombing , dependence , mention of eating disorder (hoshi) , mention of a break up

synosis : what red flag seventeen could be imo

an : I'm not romanticizing wrongdoing or saying they are okay !!!! Jeonghan again the shortest omg, ily my man 😔

〔masterlist〕

SCOUPS 』

I think we can all agree that Scoups is deffo possessiveness

"what the fuck do you mean I can't go because you're jeolous of other guys. It's not my problem it's yours" you scream your lungs out. You can't belive what you are hearing right now, you tought your boyfriend was more mature than that.

"you're not going anywhere because I said so. You're mine, you're in my possession, you're locked with me until the day you die" he would just add fuel by holding firm your waist, or maybe your wrist, making you just fall for him again

he would go crazy even if a boy looks at your direction, you're for only his eyes, you can't be too pretty for the others. You can't have friends, you need to spend all the single time with you and you can't run out of energy on others. Always have to be 100% for him.

JEONGHAN 』

he would be a manipulator fr

"do whatever you want, you'll comeback to me in two weeks" and throught this two weeks, he would say the most manipulating things

"you was overreacting over an innocent thing" "it's everything in your mind" after you broke up for the frist time because he cheated: no, nothing is in your mind. But he would sound so convicing that you'd fall for him over and over. His angel face is too beautiful to be just yours, right?

JOSHUA 』

so green flag that it was hard to think that he may be love bombing

"I love everything about you" didn't sounded weird at the start of your relationship with Joshua. His gift along with flowers almost every week didn't looked that strange in your eyes. Him showering you with love was everythings that you needed: the 1, 2 and 3 month went so smooth that you started thinking that everything was a dream. It can't be real.

"let's brake up" text on a friday afternoon really wasn't what you expected. It must be a joke, right? it can't be all of the sudden. You trying to contact him everywhere, even his stupid friends. All blocked. He broke up with you, after making fun of you for months like you didn't meant nothing to him. And probably it was like that, he must be having fun while your world breaks. After all, he is cronically offline.

JUN 』

I see him so much like emotional dependence

"why you can't be free today?" "are you really sure you can't?" "you can do this tomorrow" notification one after the other showed up on the phone screen, interrupting your work one again. Working on an life-depending project with a clingy boyfriend wasn't pleasant, and many people tend to say you was just overreacting.

"he cares about you" no, this isn't caring about your partner anymore. This is being completely obsessed at the point where you can live anymore. You chest was heavy, he sended at least thirty message about the already cleared thing, why he can't just accept it.

Imagine not being able to hang out with your friends, not able to have a girls night anymore. Watching them having fun, and then there is you being blocked by doing everything because of a boy. This isn't love anymore

HOSHI 』

him as excessive sarcasm fit so perfect

"you looked really fat in here" he was joking, but it didn't sounded funny to a girl suffering from eating disorder.

"soonyoung, don't you think you go too far with your mouth?" it should be you boyfriend defending you from dumbass, not his friends. He finds you crying yourself to sleep, on the floor, sitted on the couch and even in front of a meal. He was the one that everytime he saw you crying, he would hold you tightly and reassure you.

Everythink was vain when he jumped in with his unfunny jokes about you body. Who was laughing? none, even you as the most ironic person. It was just him on the floor, almost crying for his jokes. And you looked at him, wishing to desappear as fast as possible, and it was happening

WONWOO 』

a gamer is cronically online

"wonwoo, can I know the last time we spent time togheter?" who you even talked to? The one that was supposted to be your boyfriend was acting more like an hikikomori. His headphones were on, so there was no way he heard you. His eyes focused on the screen while his fingers were moving fastly. He was in the dark of his room, in this position, for at least 3 hours, and it was only 2pm.

You walk trowards him, moving aside the headphones. His head snapping trowards you so quickly that it almost scared you. "what are you doing? wha- omg. You made me lose, fuck" his acting was so redicolous, can you belive he is in his late 20'? "at least I have my boyfriend eyes on me" you almost sounded so pity, and it was so ashaming that you was even in this position.

"you're happy? I need to resume now" yeah, it lasted less than a minute. He putted on his headphone while his eyes must be hurting for that screen time.

WOOZI 』

what if not lack of communication

"why you're angry at me? If you not talk it out, I'll never know what's wrong with you" you was chasing him desperatly while he was wandering around your shared house. It was the frist time in an almost a week that he was staying at home for a little bit longer and not just sleep on the couch. The week was going on by him being the most of the time at the studio recording, writing, producing or maybe just ignoring you. You never been a lover of communication too, so you ignored him back, but it was driving you crazy at this point. You thought you was going insane.

"if I knew you would've been a pain in the ass, I would have stayed in my fucking studio" he now was cursing at you for... what? You was so sick of this, and you was feeling like you didn't counted nothing to him. "if you are not sharing your feelings, then let's break up", all you wanted was a reaction from him, this might lead him to say something but you was just facing a cold wall.

"kay" was everything he had to say, while you watched him cross the front door without even looking back at you for once.

DOKYEOM 』

man is know for pouting and be sensitive

"dokyeom, why are you behaving like this... again" you roll your eyes back by the sensitiveness of your boyfriend. Early in your relationship, you thought it was kinda cute of him, you loved reassuring him and slightly kiss his pout. But, things changes, and actually you was going insane by his behavior. Everytime you let him notice a bad thing he has done to you, he would just sit there, cross his arms and pout. Not talking to you even if you was speaking to him. You was the one hurted by his behaviors, and he was the one pouting?

"fuck, can you drop your childish stupid behavior" your patience today was thin. You wasn't going to apologize one again and put aside your feelings, they were valid maybe more than his unreasonable ones. You didn't even got a single stare from him, he was just scrolling throught his phone mindless. For a little, you was even being pity, maybe you was the wrong here. Maybe the sensitive one was you?

MINGYU 』

have a feeling that he is forgetful

"this son of a bitch" you humble under your breath hanging up the phone once again. It's been two hours and your boyfriend was fucking ghosting you, on your birthday after you cancelled all the plans with family and friends just to have a night out with him. He promised you that this time he wasn't going to forget your date, but he is just a liar.

You should've listen to your friends when they said to not trust him, not once again. You complained a lot of how forgetful your boyfriend was, how he was making you get ready just for him to forgot and cancel everything. But you fell for that man everytime you put your eyes on him, like you was forgetting all the pain he caused you, all the beakdown he caused to you.

And now, you was speding your birthday night crying your eyes out, dressed up for him just to be seen by none.

MINGHAO 』

so lack of listening coded for me

"hao, you're even listening to me?" you look at him, while he drink his tea. His gaze lost in nothing, and maybe his mind was everywhere but on you. You can't put blame on him, he has bad day or he is just tired right? but he has bad days every single day? Maybe it was okay, you are so talkative that time by time you get tired of yourself.

You can't say it doesn't hurt tho, whole life being shutted down and the lack of listening from you boyfriend just reopens a wound, or it was never closed. You wish he could at least listen when you're crying your eyes out, when you're opening with him, at least when you act in love with him.

VERNON 』

boy is mad cold

"have you ever said that you love me?" you was in a long-term relationship, you just thought it was weird of him never expressing love. You was feeling like you didn't counted a single thing to him, while you could just gave him the whole world. He just shurrg his shoulder while his mouth was filled with food, so you excuse him for the lack of words knowing deep down yourself that he wouldn't dare a words even otherwise.

"for you it's completely right then?" you weren't even curious, you already know the answer so you're just hurting yourself more. You don't know if having answer directly from him would make things clearer or not, you just know how much this is hurts: it almost feel like a one-sided love, not a good experience. You hate the way you chest hurts everytime for a man that doesn't care about you.

SEUNGKWAN 』

over friendly boyfriend one hundred percent

"you are blind or don't you see how that whore clinges at you?!" you were MAD, it wasn't possible that your boyfriend gives zero respect for you or he can't see how his girl friends were wandering way too much around you. That night it didn't even seemed that you was his girlfriend, he just seemed a single boy loving all the attention.

"just friends! I can't even have female friend now?" you look at him stunned, he was being for real? He just looked so dumbfounded, like he really doesn't get the point. He doesn't see what he is doing wrong, he just don't get the way he is disrespecting you and this made you thing he will never change

DINO 』

he would compare you to others

"aw~ see that couple, why you don't do the same~" he points out a couple that was being clingy... maybe too much. He really wanted to look like this, in public?

"you know my friend passed at the frist try? you should do the same" while you're talking about how you can't pass that fucking exam at the university that it's been bothering you for months now. But he does that for everything, how you should look shorter than him like that one friend of his does, how you should cook like Mingyu does, how you should more extrovert, more cheerful, more more and more. It's like you aren't worth, you aren't okay in anything, how someone it's always better than you.

It's been bothering you for months, he made you felt insicure about every single thing of you. Look, personality, worth, skills and everything you could even think. But you are perfect Lee Chan, aren't you?