#focus📷

[designedtoendure]

cmere puppy SCRAMBLE

[crowsncorvids]

photos from today :] 📷🌻

[carayat]

୨୧ through a lens — 5.1

synopsis ; hybe university is a school full of creativity, crushes, and chaotic evil energy. you try your best to navigate your 3rd year at hybeu, but unfortunately, you have no clue what's in store for you

pairings ; enhypen jake x fem! reader, bts jungkook x fem! reader, svt mingyu x fem! reader

an ; welcome back to through a lens!! i missed you all and i hope you'll enjoy reading this smau as it continues on

prev | m.list | next

taglist (open) ; @rich-man-v @jjikyuu @athousandandonefandoms @ksooed @y3jiishot @sungbeam @yunki4evr @niktwazny303

[bcysdontcry]

[cute-sucker]

all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.

you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.

going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.

going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.

it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was strategic. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.

he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.

but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.

"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."

and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.

you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.

little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.

"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.

he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.

rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"

dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.

"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.

that rafe.

you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"rafe-"

"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."

now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.

finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.

but that was definitely not it.

"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."

finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"

you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."

rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.

"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.

"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

taglist for all my fics; @wearemadeofstardust0

taglist for boxer!rafe: @maybankslover @vogueprincess @spookyscaryspoon

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚! 1 (𝙏𝙥𝙖𝙛𝙡 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚)

Drabble one! of Torn pictures and frozen lenses couple!

────୨ৎ────

content: smut (light bondage, daddy kink, penetration, praise, size kink, clit stimulation)

note from cherry: hi loves! first lil drabble i thought of today, hope u like it ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

────୨ৎ────

you were supposed to be watching him, listening attentively to the way he teaches you how to use the photo editing programm necessary for his class,

Sat on his thigh in the large office chair, comfortably feeling his arms around you, in order to reach his keyboard

That was what was supposed to happen, however, upon noticing the small pink ribbons tied along your thigh highs, Jungkook couldn't take it,

Imagining bounding your little wrists together, helplessly making you grind on his cock while he kept working, teaching you well

Like the man he is, once his mind is set, it's over.

"More daddy please please more" you whine, desperately begging for him to just move his hips after minutes of nothing, after trying to focus on the way he's still explaining the software while you're whimpering and begging on top of him,

the aching feeling of having him stuffed inside so so deep, creating a bulge at your lower belly,

Its too much, slowly you grind on down on him, unable to hold on to anything

Jungkook looks down to your bound wrists, tied beautifully by a pink ribbon,

"Good girl, keep moving those pretty hips doll" he groans, feeling himself get hotter with pleasure,

One of his hands reach out to press on the bulge, making you let out a louder whimper

"Ssh doll it's good isn't it? Daddy's so so deep isn't he?" he whispers into your ear, although sounding sweet, his words hold a sense of power, almost as if he's mocking you

You grind on him harder, whining and nodding your head,

Jungkook tsk's, smacking your clit with his fingers,

"Words doll, come one pretty, you can talk to me" he slowly rubs your sensitive nub from side to side, waiting for your response

"So so deep daddy so good! You're so big!" barely able to register anything, your moans keep spilling out of your lips while his finger increases the speed

His mouth gets closer, kissing and licking at your neck slowly,

His voice is soft and deep, making sure you hear his own sounds of pleasure while you're dumbed out grinding down on his dick, chasing after pleasure

"Good girl, the best little girl"

You clench around him, mouth slightly agape while you keep grinding against his fingers and cock,

Orgasm approaching rapidly, too cocdrunk to think of anything else but the way he feels and sounds

"Daddy's small little pussy, so full with my cock, so helpless all for me" he says, now moving both of his hands to your hips and thrusting his thick length into you from beneath, moaning and cursing alongside you,

"Gonna reward my little girl for being so good"

[jo-com]

can you write a story about how Alex, Charles and reader meet. Maybe she’s friends with someone in their friend group and when a,c and reader meet, a+c almost have love at first sight

🫶🏻🫶🏻

🎀 ⊹˚. ♡ ➛ Whipped

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Based off the request above!!

Genre: Throuple, Fluff

Note: Thanks for requesting and sorry if i only made it now😭 there are some grammatical errors here.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚─ ───────

The loud clink of utensils echoed around the group that mixed well with the faint sounds of people conversing with one another.

Laughter and playful banters were exchanged from the table of friends— one of them telling a joke that caused them to smile from ear to ear.

It was one of those nights where friends gather and boost about the things that happened to them; it was like their very own ritual to catch up every once in a while, but this time it was different.

There was another addition to the group.

….

“Ah, look whose here. Come y/n take a sit,” one of the girl asked, patting the empty seat besides her.

Y/n happily took the seat and smiled thankfully at her kind gesture. You were kinda nervous, seeing that you don’t know who half the table were, but it was nice to have new friends.

So you took the time to get to know each and every one of them.

While you we’re having a conversation with one girl at the group— two pair of eyes seemed to never left yours.

As if you were the only thing that seem to caught their attention; not even caring if one of their friends are trying to start a discussion with them.

Everything about you were just too mesmerizing— your eyes, your smile, and those laughs that sounds so angelic when it comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.

“Elle est si jolie (she is so pretty)” Alex whispered under her breath, that was loud enough for only she and Charles could hear.

“Je sais, je ne peux pas non plus la quitter des yeux (i know, I can’t take my eyes of her too)” Charles responded, his tone just screams ‘boy inlove’.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re happy with just the two of them, but you just make it so hard to not fall in love with you. I mean come on just look at you! You were built to perfection. God Is this what they call love at first sight?

If it were, then damn. They sure are whipped for you.

…

➛Message (Alex and Charles)

…

“Charles and Alex, you guys have been awfully quite for a while now” Bea exclaimed aloud, earning all the group’s attention to focus on them.

Including yours.

You flickered your eyes and glanced over at them. You’ve noticed their presence for a while now and just like the others you were star struck with their appearance. They were the epitome of luxury and elegance— they give of an aura that just seems so hard to approach them;

“Ah, sorry. Something just came up” charles spoke, his tone laced with sincerity.

As he said those word, his eyes met yours. It felt like he was directly saying it to you. But that’s just silly, imagine the Charles Leclerc saying those to you. Pfft hilarious.

“Oui, quelque chose de beau vient d'attirer notre attention (yes,something beautiful just caught our eye)” Alex spoke, her thick accent dripped with gracefulness.

Just like Charles, her words seems directed towards you. Her eyes latched onto yours— captivating the essence of your beauty.

You looked around, checking if she was looking at anyone else. To your surprise, there were no people at your back. You glanced back but she was no longer staring at you.

Hmm must be a coincidence.

…

Throughout the night, their eyes stared daggers at your direction— watching you like a hawk.

You could feel the burning gazes that came from them but just shrugged it off as a ‘must be someone at my back’ feeling.

…

“This was so much fun guys, i hope we could do this again soon”. One of your friends spat, smiling genuinely at all of you.

The night has finally come to an end; even though you felt all eyes on you every time, you still had fun.

All of your friends gathered their stuff and one by one began to leave the place. Saying all their goodbyes before finally taking off. Just as you were about too, two figure stood in your way.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confusingly. What’s going on?

“Uhm can i help you guys?” You asked, looking at them with pure curiosity.

Alex opened her mouth but then closed it again, she gently nudged Charles shoulder implying for him to speak up.

What the hell was going on, they look like high schoolers whose ready to confess.

Charles rolled his eyes and sighed,“Well, this is kinda awkward but me and my girlfriend were kinda hoping to get your number.”

Oh. So it was a confession kinda thing?

Your eyes widened from the sudden question, “but if you don’t want to it’s fine” Alex chimed in, her face turning red from the tense atmosphere.

You let out a giggle, seeing how their acting like teenagers inlove was just so adorable to you. So why not invest your time in these two cutesy couple.

“Here” you said, getting out your phone and showing them your number to which they wrote down.

…

After that day you guys continued messaging each other back and forth— creating a strong bond between the couple.

And eventually you guys were officially a couple, all three of you.

You were glad you came to that gathering.

…

Sorry for not updating in a while, hope you guys like this tough!!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolate and Cream

Eddie x Venom x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, inappropriate use of chocolate, Venom's tongue should be a warning on its own, oral (Fem Receiving), piv sex, creampie, protected sex (personal headcanon that Venom can make it so the baby batter don't bake ;)), Venom is a great source of birth control, a bit of fluff, food play(?), Eddie and Venom love you so much, spme anal, squirting, Eddie and Venom definitely bang too tho IMO (PSA: PLEASE DO NOT PUT CHOCOLATE ON YOUR KITTY LADIES THAT'S HOW YOU YOU GET INFECTIONS)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Woo! My first Eddie/Venom fic! (Technically) This is based off a private fic an old friend of mine requested that I wrote years ago, adjusted more for a curvy reader, part of some of my self-indulgent fics regarding us gals on a thicker scale :)

🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷

You took one last look in the mirror, proudly nodding your head at your handiwork. It was a pain in the ass, for sure to get done, but with the help from some people in an anonymous kink forum, they were able to help you get this surprise for your lovely boyfriends.

You see, one of your boyfriends had this "thing" for chocolate. He needed to consume an insane amount of it or he'd have to resort to... other methods of gaining a certain chemical to sustain himself...

And of course, that's how this lovely idea came to be. Edible panties were soooooo boring!

Your body covered in chocolate-based body paint however...

You had painstakingly painted cute little hearts over your body, with some artistic swirls for extra flair. You kept your apartment freezing to avoid your body heat melting it too much, or while you painted around your nipples, the rolls of your belly, and of course somewhere far more intimate...

Then came the waiting game. You didn't know when they'd be home from running their "night errands". You knew full well what that meant, and you didn't really focus too much on that fact. It helped you sleep easier at night

You should have thought this through, though. If you sat down on your couch, the chocolate would stain it. You could sit on one of your dining chairs, but the surface was far too cold for your poor bare ass to handle right now.

Shit. Well, you could always--

You jumped back with a shriek, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and held it out, obscuring the view of your body from the hulking dark mass that squeezed through your apartment's window.

You relaxed slightly, your breath escaping you in a sigh.

"Venom!" You scolded. "You gave me a heart attack! Why can't you and Eddie use the front door?"

The large creature grinned, revealing jagged fangs that sent shivers of excitement up your spine. Or maybe you were just cold.

"It is faster, this way." Venom replied.

He tilted his head at you, and how peculiarly you were holding the blanket, concealing yourself from him. Then... He tipped his head back, sniffing the air.

"We smell chocolate." He growled, his voice excited as he tilted his head at you. "Are you baking, sweet thing?"

You suddenly felt very small, very awkward. Like a bunny caught in the trap about to be devoured by a hungry wolf. You'd be lying if you didn't feel a little turned on.

You also felt very stupid. God, this was so silly. Why did you...

Venom began to stalk closer, having to lean down to avoid hitting his head on your low ceiling.

"What are you hiding, sweet thing?" His voice rumbled lowly.

"Uhm..." You peep, squirming backwards, awkwardly looking around for a way out of this stupid situation you got yourself into.

"What." Venom said, each word punctuated by a step. "Are. You. Hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything!" You lie.

"Really?" He purrs, his tongue laving out to taste at the air. "Because it smells like you're hiding something delicious from us."

"I..." You take a step back further, only to bump into the wall, squealing when your bare back makes contact with the cold drywall.

And in a blink of your eyes, Venom was there, his large, opalescent eyes narrowing at you, his maw curling into a lascivious grin.

Yeah. He was definitely salivating.

"What are you hiding behind the blanket, sweet thing?" He purred once more, his massive paws gripping the plush knit quilt.

"Uh--"

"Last chance."

"It's... Uh...." You flounder for an excuse.

In the span of a few seconds, the blanket is ripped away and you squeak, your arms locking and Venom's eyes get big and his head rocks back as he looks down at you.

(Holy shit.) Eddie's voice breathed from inside his head.

Venom's grin spreads even wider as he tilts his head slowly in the other direction. "I knew you were hiding something delicious."

"I just... I wanted to, uh..."

Venom pressed his mouth to your throat, and you could feel his heavy, wet breaths as he inhaled your scent, his large hands gripping the upper parts of your arms as he held you there, against the wall, just breathing.

It felt like forever you were standing there, the feeling of him just... breathing on you was enough to get you hot and bothered.

"You smell delicious." He grumbled against your throat, opening his mouth to let his tongue slide out.

The moment it wrapped around your throat was electric. It sent a throb of arousal straight through to your core.

You let out a watery sigh, your breaths leaving you in trembled gasps as his tongue slides lower, through the chocolate on your sternum, and wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the chocolate melting and smearing under his hot breath and saliva.

"Did you do this for us, sweet thing?" Venom asked as he pulled away, looking down at you. "You wanted to surprise us? Hmm?"

"I... I got the idea online, and..." You said, somehow finding it within yourself to still be embarrassed.

"It is a tasty surprise." He said lowly, curving a taloned finger along your cheek. He leaned in and placed a small, unusually chaste kiss to your cheek.

"But you definitely taste better." He whispered into your ear.

You couldn't suppress the little noise that comes from your throat.

"Let us clean you, sweet thing."

Fuck, why did his voice have to have that bone-vibrating frequency? Why the fuck did it have to be so sexy?! Him and Eddie both! Especially Eddie's morning voice! Ugh! It wasn't fair how easy they could just render you stupid.

Venom got on his knees in front of you and brought his mouth to your chest, swiping his hefty tongue through the chocolate, a low rumbling emitting from him the whole time, sending those wonderful tremors through your very bones as he took his time cleaning you, licking up every drop of chocolate from your body, moving lower and lower...

Fuck, you'd swear Venom's purring would be a great substitute for a vibrator. Not that you ever needed one. The moment Venom could pick up on your scent and told Eddie, they were all over you. It was especially bad when you were about to start your cycle. Venom would go feral and pounce on you the moment he picked up on your hormones.

Your train of thought derailed somewhere around the thought of that one time Eddie woke you up with his hand between your legs and crashed into the station of Venom's tongue plunging through your now-soaked folds.

"We were right. You do taste better." Venom purred right into your cunt, making you gasp and cry out. "Though the chocolate compliments your taste well."

"Fuck!" You cry as he hoists your legs over his shoulders, pushing you up the wall with how forcefully he was thrusting his tongue inside of you; his massive arms caging you in and his hands groping and squeezing at your breasts as he voraciously ate you out.

You felt his tongue press against that wonderfully world-spinning spot inside your spongy walls, drawing out and drinking down more and more of your slick as he snarled into your puffy folds.

Your nails clawed at his arms, doing no damage to his odd "skin", and if anything it was encouraging him to go further.

You felt the tip of his tongue press on your cervix before rolling back around and curling, the pink muscle writhing and wriggling inside of you like it was fighting desperately to become a part of you.

You had half a thought to let Venom bond with you for a little while and do something like this with Eddie...

You practically sobbed when Venom brought one of his hands down, squeezing the plush rolls on your belly, kneading them lovingly before pressing down beneath your belly button, where he could feel his tongue bulge and roil inside of you.

The orgasm that you were starting to feel build exploded, going off before you had a chance to prep, your eyes rolled back and you arched your spine, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your body unable to find its voice as everything came crashing down onto you; his tongue eagerly lapping up each drop, every bit of your sweet cream.

The moment his tongue slid out of you, you felt empty, bereft of his contact. You whined when he pulled away, and he kissed your neck, licking the skin again.

"Don't worry, sweet thing. Eddie just wants his turn with you, now." He snarled, easing you down onto the floor, his hands caressing your legs gently as he stood.

As his head reached height with yours, his scary, alien visage peeled and melted away, revealing Eddie's gorgeous eyes, full lips, and patchy stubble.

"Hey, baby." He chuckled, giving you a kiss as he pulled you against him.

"Hey..." You said, your voice weak and shaky.

"Nice surprise, by the way." Eddie smirked at you, his hands going down to grope and squeeze at your plush ass, his thumbs tracing every dimple. "Vee loved it."

"I could tell." You smile up at him.

"So... Let's move the after party to someplace more comfortable, huh?"

🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷🖤📷

God it always surprised you. It didn't matter which one of them fucked you, but somehow they always did it in a way that made you feel like they were trying to bully their way into your guts with their cock.

You whimpered as Eddie hugged your legs against his chest, snapping his hips up into you with so much vigor that he kept rocking you up the couch cushions. Hell, one of the cushions was a few thrusts from being pushed off the couch entirely.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight." Eddie groaned, looking down at you as every soft part of your jiggled and bounced with the force of his thrusts. He loved how you looked when you were utterly fucked out. Venom did, too. Venom's favorite "hobby" that Eddie teased him for, was how he loved to grab you and squish you in his hands, and move you up and down on his cock like a sweet, soft little toy.

Of course, you enjoyed it, too.

Eddie moved your legs so they were on either side of him now as he leaned down and kissed you hard, his plush lips and tongue greedily dancing with yours, your soft hands sliding up his back, feeling the droplets of sweat roll off of him.

Eddie had hips, and he certainly knew how to use him. The way he arched his back and gyrated them, you were tempted to joke and say he should start pole dancing. Maybe you'd bring it up with him when he wasn't currently stuffing you nine different kinds of full with his fat cock.

The tickling of the short hairs at the base made contact with your clit at every thrust, sending little flames of pleasure licking up your spine.

"Eddie..." You moaned, gripping hard at his shoulders and squirming your hips against his.

He gritted his teeth and groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. "Fuck, baby." Eddie hissed, "You gettin' close?"

"Mhmm--" You say, nodding with a weak mewl.

You feel him grin against your throat and he sucked on your skin, leaving a nice, dark present on your skin. He pulled away, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Oh-kay--" He grunted, leaning back as he slowed his thrusts almost torturously slow.

The black mass that is Venom slinked around Eddie's torso, thick tendrils moving out and gripping beneath your knees, gently forcing them as comfortably close to your head as possible, your cunt fluttering gorgeously around Eddie's cock so well that you felt Venom shudder.

Eddie stopped moving for a second that felt like hours, before he leaned over, one hand on the back of the couch and the other gripping the arm of it behind your head before sending on hard, brutal thrust down.

The moment he did that, you shrieked so loud you were sure your downstairs neighbors could hear you--hell, maybe the people down in the street heard how well Eddie was fucking you (with Venom's help, of course).

The sinful sound of his cock sliding in and out of your hole, your slick-coated skin slapping against each other was deafeningly loud to your ears as he fucked you with his newfound leverage over you, hitting your g-spot at just the right angle it had your brain going almost numb from the pleasure.

When you cum, you cum hard. You soak Eddie's stomach and your thighs as your pussy clamps down on him. You got so tight that Eddie's pace stuttered and almost stopped, a gravelly whine crawling out of his throat.

"God... Fuuuuuck, baby..." He panted hard, grinding his hips down into yours, bringing his knee up and pressing one of your thighs tighter to your body.

"E-Eddie--" You mewl.

"Just--Just a bit more, baby, I promise." Eddie hissed, his eyes closing in pure bliss as he fucks the absolute heaven that is your sweet little cunt.

"God--damn!" Eddie practically squeaked.

You see Venom's head materialize over his shoulder and he grinned down at you through your glazed-over eyes.

Oh god. That was a favorite trick Venom liked to pull. Whenever Eddie was close to coming, sometimes Venom liked to force a tendril up his ass, squirming and tickling his prostate.

"Vee, you little shit--!" Eddie moaned.

"Keep fucking her, Eddie." Venom purred, his tongue sliding around Eddie's throat.

"Gonna beat your fucking--" He hiccuped, his hips stuttering and jolting into yours. "--beat your ass for this..."

"You say that every time. NOW KEEP FUCKING HER." Venom snapped, forcing the tendril deeper into Eddie's ass, this time pressing with more force on his prostate, eliciting a broken moan from him as he slapped his hips harshly into yours, your sweet cunt leaving a nice creamy ring around the base of his cock.

"Fuck, baby..." You whine, feeling tears burn in your eyes as your second orgasm starts to build.

Venom can sense it, and you were fucked the moment his head snapped to look at you.

Completely, utterly fucked.

A smaller tendril splits off from the ones still pinning your legs up, and latches onto your clit, pulling and tugging and rolling in a way that has the air knocked out of your lungs.

"Oh shhhii-iIiIII-iit..." You sob, clawing desperately at Eddie's shoulders, feeling Venom's tongue wrap around one of your wrists, eagerly lapping at your skin as if he could taste your nectar from that alone.

You and Eddie cum almost simultaneously, your orgasms slamming you like a runaway freight train.

You once again soak Eddie's stomach and crotch, your spray and cum dripping down to soak the couch cushions as Eddie's hot seed floods your soft, now-pliant walls, groaning as Venom presses inside of him, making his hips jerk until he's fucked every last drop into you.

Venom finally releases the two of you and Eddie collapsed, Eddie laying across your plush body, your rolls, and cute squishy fat being the perfect pillows for him. (Your breasts too, as he buried his face in them.)

The two of you breathe hard, your sweat mingling between your bodies as you cool off, shivers causing goosebumps to rise up and down Eddie's back as his heart slowed, the heavy echoes still pattering against yours.

"Eddie?" You breathe.

"Yeah." He grunted, voice muffled by your breasts.

"I think we're going to need to steam clean the couch."

Eddie and Venom both broke out laughing.

And here you were, worried about chocolate staining your couch. Turns out it was the cream that was the problem.

[poppy-metal]

let me cook a little bit

professor!art attempting to end what you two have together— he knows your young and impressionable and he doesn’t want that to be on his hands or hurt you.

and you leave with no quips or yelling, not even an tear. but you don’t make it easy for him to forget afterwards.

you wear one of his shirts that he left in your car, having a few buttons left undone, and whenever he walked by, he could catch a glimpse of the lacy white bra that you always wore when you were together. you always come by office hours wearing one of the shortest skirts you own, dropping your pencil and bending over practically in his lap to pick it up. you even end up slipping one of your panties into his coat jacket that he ends up feeling when he puts it on in the middle of a lecture— resulting in him having to sit at his desk for the rest of class.

he was gonna have to work to get rid of you

- 📷 anon :)

mmmffffnnnn art trying to be good and you making it so hard (hehe) it's made worse by the fact that you aren't putting it on that heavy - besides wearing his clothes - and the flashes of your bra strap - you don't look at him during his lectures and he keeps adjusting his glasses when he's grading papers and glancing up at you furitively. you can feel it every time he does - his gaze like sparks across your skin, and you have to bite the cap of your pen to hide your smile.

arts a hard nut to crack - it'd been easy enough to seduce him into a blowjob when he was tipsy and clearly in a mood over the divorce. with his head on straight he was a good man - not straight laced, per say - just good. he had a kind heart and you knew how conflicted he had to feel about "abusing" his power over you.

sure it was inappropriate but it wasn't illegal - you weren't even sure if it was something he could lose his job over - his position with the university was pretty good. a consensual relationship with a student would be frowned upon, sure, but he'd be fine. it was just his moral code. maybe he still felt loyal to his ex, too. divorce didn't mean his feelings were severed, after all.

but you'd sensed it in the stall - the way he shuddered and damn near melted against the door when you sank your lips around his cock - he needed a release - one other than his hand. you hoped when he did jerk off, he was thinking of you. of your mouth on his cock. about how you looked on your knees servicing him - your whole focus devoted to making him feel good. you wanted him again. sucking his cock wasn't enough for the hunger being on your knees for him stoked in your belly. you needed that cock inside you - between your legs - pushing and pressing you apart. you could just picture how he'd moan too, lips parted and cheeks flushed. you wondered if he lived alone now in his house or if he had to buy and apartment. you hoped it was the house - you wanted to spread out on his old marriage bed - wet and wanting and taking his cock. you could make him feel so good. he'd forget all about the divorce and pesky morals and what was right or wrong. he just needed to want it enough.

you had to drive him crazy with lust - make him itch with it. make it consume his every waking thought.

so you wore your high thighs and short denim skirts and his sweater - hanging off one shoulder and showing your pink bralette underneath. you didn't make eye contact with him once to build the tension. on and on for a week. your clothes only getting more and more revealing - your attention on him fleeting but purposeful.

when you turned in your essay exactly one week later in nothing but his sweater and shorts so short they didn't even come down enough to peek under where his sweater fell down your thighs- making it look like it was all you wore - that and nothing else.

you heard his sharp inhale - looked at him and your eyes met and you could see the naked, pure, unguarded animal want there for a second. his pupils dilated to nearly all black.

you smiled as you handed him your paper - "I hope it's good. I worked so hard and long on it - I'd love any feedback you have for me when you're done."

you see him swallow. his adams apple bobbing, before he blinks and his ears turn pink and he adjusts his glasses - clears his throat. "go back to your seat." he says, softly.

you do - and later when you're laying on your dorm bed and your phone buzzes, you see it's from and unknown number and smile.

"hello?" you answer, voice sugar sweet.

you were expecting it to be him - anticipating - and yet still your heart fluttered when you hear his voice on the other end. "come meet me outside - we need to talk."

the way he speaks - smooth and confident - like he's made a decision and he's sure of it, makes your cunt throb.

you spring up, fast and quick. pulling drawers out to find something hot to wear. "do we?" you tease him. "about my essay?"

he exhales - long-suffering. you can imagine him in his car, looking out his window at your dorm, jaw working as he waits for you. god, you bet he looks so fucking hot. you can't wait to see him.

"you know what about." is what he says.

you hum - "pink or white?"

"what?"

you shuffle through your lingerie. "do you want me in pink." you say, drawing it out so he can really picture it. "or white?"

a pause. you wonder if he's still in denial about this - even now. waiting outside your dorm at 11pm on a friday. but then he says -

"in my sweater." he says.

your whole body heats. it's one thing to put yourself out there and flirt - to be the pursuer - it's another thing when it's recuperated. your tummy has butterflies - your clit has a heartbeat. he sounds so..... controlled. it's a side you haven't heard before.

"okay - " you breathe. close your drawer.

he says your name before either of you can hang up - "yeah?" you ask.

"you know I respect you?"

"of course. why?"

"because im about to treat you like I dont."

the line clicks.

[minhosbitterriver]

📷 STILL FRAMES ( stray kids )

❛ After fainting during a photography class outing, you're tenderly cared for by a seemingly cold classmate, Seungmin, leading to an unexpected and heartwarming connection between the two of you.

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 30 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was written and completed a few months ago, but I recently found it and decided to share it with you guys! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Descriptions of being overheated, anxiety, and fainting, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The summer sun blazed with an intensity that bordered on cruelty, its golden rays casting a relentless furnace upon the cityscape. The air shimmered with the heat, every street and alley seemingly wincing under the oppressive glare. The heavens above were a fierce, unyielding expanse of cerulean, devoid of mercy or shade.

Amidst this searing trial, you navigated the urban labyrinth, your every step a testament to perseverance. Your digital camera, a faithful companion clutched in your hand, was your shield against the unrelenting heat. It was your instrument for capturing moments of beauty amid the starkness of summer’s tyranny.

As you trailed behind your classmates, each one a silhouette against the blistering backdrop, your gaze flitted with restless anticipation. You wandered through the city streets, your eyes seeking fragments of inspiration to breathe life into your assignment. The buildings rose around you like silent, stoic sentinels, their facades glistening with a harsh, metallic sheen. In the shimmering distance, you hoped for the elusive spark that would transform the mundane into something extraordinary.

The chatter of your classmates had long faded into a mere whisper, a distant hum that barely registered in the periphery of your consciousness. Conversations ebbed and flowed like an unremarkable current, a symphony of voices blending into a soft, indistinguishable murmur. Yet, this isolation was not an anomaly but a chosen retreat, a familiar haven you embraced with quiet contentment.

Surrounded by the bustling dynamics of camaraderie and friendship, you stood apart, an island of introspection amidst a sea of social engagement. It wasn't that you were unfriendly or aloof; your laughter often mingled with theirs, your voice joining the chorus of shared jokes and light-hearted banter before and after the structured rhythm of class. But when the subject turned to the art that captivated your soul, a transformation occurred.

Photography, to you, was not just a hobby but a profound and passionate pursuit. It demanded your full attention, a devotion that bordered on reverence. Your camera was not merely a tool but an extension of your vision, a conduit through which you sought to capture the world’s hidden beauty. The play of light and shadow, the fleeting expressions on faces, the intricate details of everyday objects—all of these were fragments of a larger, more intricate tapestry that you sought to weave with each click of the shutter.

In those moments, the world around you faded into soft focus, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your art. The bonds of friendship, though cherished, were momentarily set aside, replaced by a singular concentration that sharpened your senses and heightened your awareness. This solitary journey through the realm of photography was your sanctuary, a place where you found solace and inspiration in equal measure.

The only other person in this class who might share your penchant for solitude was Kim Seungmin. He, too, seemed to navigate the world with an air of quiet detachment. Yet, there were differences in how each of you manifested this introversion. While you made a concerted effort to connect with those around you—engaging in brief conversations and sharing moments of camaraderie when class was not in session—Seungmin was an enigma, a shadow that flitted away the moment the lecture ended.

Seungmin's presence in the classroom was a paradox of visibility and invisibility. He was always the first to arrive, slipping into the room with the quiet grace of dawn's first light. Despite his punctuality, he maintained a palpable distance from the rest of the group, an invisible barrier that set him apart. His demeanor, while not unfriendly, exuded a clear message of preference for solitude.

During the lulls and intermissions, when the classroom would usually be filled with animated discussions and the laughter of budding friendships, Seungmin could be found in a corner, absorbed in his own world. His fingers danced nimbly over his camera, adjusting settings, capturing candid moments, or meticulously reviewing his shots. At other times, he would be engrossed in his phone, the screen's glow reflecting the deep concentration etched on his face.

To you, Seungmin was a mystery, a puzzle wrapped in layers of quiet introspection. There was a certain allure in his aloofness, a silent invitation to unravel the story behind his reserved exterior. Yet, you never dared to cross the unspoken boundary that he had set. His solitary nature, so akin to your own, commanded a respect that you were unwilling to breach.

Seungmin remained a figure of curiosity, a fellow traveler on the path of photographic artistry who chose a parallel yet distinctly separate route. His quiet presence was a reminder of the myriad ways one could navigate the delicate dance between isolation and connection.

Despite his reserved and enigmatic demeanor, Seungmin possessed a rare and extraordinary talent for photography. His artistry behind the lens was nothing short of breathtaking, a fact that did not go unnoticed by anyone, least of all the professor. At the conclusion of each class, a ritual unfolded: the professor would meticulously review everyone's photographs, sifting through the myriad of images to select the ones that stood out the most. Without fail, Seungmin's work consistently earned a place among the top five, a testament to his remarkable skill.

Each of Seungmin's photographs was a revelation, an abstract masterpiece that captured the world through a uniquely creative lens. His ability to see beyond the ordinary and delve into the depths of the abstract added a layer of profound beauty to his images. Where others might see a simple street scene or a mundane object, Seungmin uncovered hidden dimensions and intricate patterns, transforming the mundane into the extraordinary.

His compositions were a symphony of light and shadow, each frame meticulously crafted to evoke emotion and provoke thought. There was an unmistakable depth to his work, a silent narrative that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. The interplay of colors, the juxtaposition of textures, and the harmony of forms all coalesced into visual poetry, each photograph a verse in the grand tapestry of his artistic vision.

The professor, a seasoned connoisseur of photographic art, often marveled at Seungmin's ability to convey such profound beauty through his images. His praise, though sparing, was always effusive when it came to Seungmin's work. "A true artist," he would often muse, holding up one of Seungmin's photos for the class to admire. "His eye for detail and his innovative approach are truly remarkable."

Seungmin's talent was unmistakable, a beacon of brilliance that shone through the veil of his quiet, self-imposed solitude. Each photograph was a testament to his exceptional ability to capture the essence of the world around him, a gift that set him apart and elevated him to the ranks of the truly gifted. In his hands, the camera became not just a tool but a portal to a realm of infinite beauty and wonder.

The dryness in your mouth abruptly pulled you from the intricate web of thoughts weaving around your enigmatic classmate, who now lingered at the back of the group, his camera poised to capture yet another fleeting moment. The parched sensation nagged at you, growing more insistent with each passing second. You reluctantly tore your gaze away from Seungmin, reaching into your backpack in search of your water bottle.

As your fingers fumbled through the contents of your bag, your eyes remained vigilant, scanning your surroundings to ensure you wouldn’t stumble over any unexpected obstacles. The bustling city around you was a blur of movement and color, but you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, not even for a moment.

Finally, your hand closed around the cool plastic of your water bottle. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Your heart skipped a beat when you unscrewed the cap and peered inside, only to find a single, solitary sip left. The realization that your meager supply of water was almost depleted sent a ripple of anxiety through your chest. The class was far from over, and the sweltering heat showed no signs of relenting.

A wave of apprehension washed over you, prickling at your chest like tiny, invisible needles. You finished the last sip, the tepid water doing little to quench your thirst, and tried to steady your racing thoughts. With a shaky breath, you reassured yourself that you could endure the remaining time. Surely, there would be a place nearby where you could refill your bottle.

Determined not to let the anxiety take hold, you pressed on, reminding yourself that the city was vast and filled with countless opportunities. Somewhere among the winding streets and towering buildings, an oasis of hydration awaited. All you had to do was stay focused and keep an eye out for that small but vital reprieve.

The merciless sun, as if sensing your growing anxiety, seemed to blaze even hotter, its relentless rays wrapping you in a suffocating embrace. Beads of sweat clung to your skin in a sticky shimmer, making each movement feel laborious and sluggish. Despite the discomfort, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. Your eyes roamed the cityscape, seeking inspiration amidst the familiar charm of the urban sprawl.

You recalled the instructions given by your professor before the class set out on this journey. Find something that has two textures that contrast each other, and find a way to make them complement each other in your photo. It seemed a simple enough directive, especially considering the rich tapestry of your surroundings. Yet, the sun's unyielding assault made concentration an arduous endeavor.

As you navigated the bustling streets, your gaze flitted over the varied textures that adorned the city. Rough, weathered brick walls stood in stark contrast to the sleek, reflective surfaces of modern glass buildings. The interplay between the old and the new, the rugged and the refined, offered endless possibilities for your photographic assignment. But the oppressive heat made it difficult to hold onto any coherent thought for long.

The thirst that had been barely quenched earlier resurfaced with a vengeance, its gnawing intensity magnified by the knowledge that your water bottle was now empty. Your mouth felt as dry as the arid pavement beneath your feet, and each swallow seemed to scrape against a parched throat. Anxiety prickled at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to overwhelm your resolve.

You scanned the area for potential sources of relief, hoping to spot a fountain, a café, or any place where you could refill your bottle. The city, though familiar, seemed an endless expanse under the punishing sun. Every step felt heavier, the weight of your camera pressing down on you like a leaden reminder of your mission.

Yet, amidst the discomfort and the thirst, you remained determined. You sought the contrasting textures your professor had described, letting your eyes linger on the juxtaposition of smooth marble and rough concrete, or the way a delicate flower pushed through a crack in the asphalt. There was beauty to be found here, even in the harshest of conditions.

With a deep breath, you resolved to keep going, trusting that your perseverance would lead you to both the perfect shot and the much-needed water. The city, with all its contrasts and complexities, held the promise of discovery, if only you could endure a little longer.

"It’s so hot," you vaguely heard a classmate complain, her voice barely cutting through the heavy, sweltering air as she fanned herself with a weary hand. The others nodded in weary agreement, their faces etched with the shared misery of enduring the relentless sun. "We should all go for some ice cream after this," she suggested, a hint of hope sparking briefly in her eyes.

The idea of ice cream, cool and refreshing, was undeniably appealing. Yet, you didn’t dare voice your thoughts. The fear of worsening your situation held your tongue, a silent specter of anxiety that kept you from speaking up. As you glanced around at your classmates, their faces blurred by the heat, a flicker of desperation ignited within you.

You tried to remember if you had informed anyone about your fainting spells, but your mind drew a blank. The memories were elusive, slipping through your mental grasp like water through a sieve. The thought of revealing your vulnerability gnawed at you, and although you knew you should at least ask if anyone had spare water, your anxiety clung to you like a vice, rendering you silent at a moment when you needed help the most.

The world around you seemed to shimmer and waver in the oppressive heat, the vibrant colors of the city dulled by the haze of your growing discomfort. Your throat felt like sandpaper, each breath a laborious effort. The idea of speaking up, of asking for something as simple as water, felt insurmountable. Your classmates, though kind and considerate, seemed distant and unreachable in your moment of need.

Silent, you continued to endure, your thoughts a turbulent mix of desperation and fear. The sun beat down with unwavering intensity, each ray a reminder of your growing thirst and vulnerability. You scanned the faces around you, searching for a flicker of understanding, a sign that someone might notice your distress without you having to voice it.

But no such sign came. The conversations continued, the suggestions of ice cream and relief from the heat weaving through the group like a distant promise. You swallowed dryly, your silence a heavy burden, and resolved to press on. The city held the promise of respite somewhere, and you clung to the hope that you could find it before your strength gave out.

The more you pushed forward, the more acutely aware you became of the blood coursing through your veins. It was as if each heartbeat reverberated in your ears, amplifying the sense of impending dizziness. The city's vibrant energy seemed to swirl around you, the once steady ground beneath your feet now an unpredictable, undulating surface.

As the sensation of spinning grew more intense, you reluctantly allowed yourself to fall behind the group. You sought refuge against the cool, reassuring solidity of a nearby building, leaning against its weathered facade. Taking deep breaths, you tried to steady yourself, inhaling the warm, sun-baked air and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm the storm within.

Your classmates, absorbed in their own artistic quests, continued on without noticing your absence. This anonymity, usually a comfort in your solitary pursuits, now only served to heighten your anxiety. You couldn't blame them for their oversight; it was common for someone to linger behind, captivated by a potential photograph. Still, the reality of being unnoticed in your moment of need felt like an invisible weight pressing down on your chest.

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, hoping it would anchor you in the present moment. The sounds of the city buzzed around you—distant conversations, the hum of traffic, the occasional birdcall—creating a cacophony that both grounded and overwhelmed you.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at the receding forms of your classmates, their laughter and chatter fading into the background. The distance between you and them felt insurmountable, not just in physical space but in the gulf of your unspoken struggle. You pressed your back more firmly against the building, feeling the rough texture of the brick through your thin shirt, a small reminder of the world outside your internal chaos.

You knew you needed to rejoin the group, to press on and complete the assignment, but the dizziness and rising anxiety made the thought of moving almost unbearable. You considered calling out, asking for help, but the words stuck in your throat, trapped by the fear of appearing weak or needy. Instead, you remained silent, hoping that your moment of respite would be enough to regain your composure.

Your body shivered uncontrollably despite the oppressive heat, a strange and unsettling contrast that heightened your sense of unease. The world around you seemed to blur and waver, your vision losing focus at an alarming pace. Each step felt like wading through thick, invisible molasses, and even the simplest movement became a Herculean effort. Despite this, you managed to lower yourself to the sidewalk, the rough pavement a harsh but necessary support.

You concentrate on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a desperate attempt to anchor yourself in the here and now. Yet, the ringing in your ears grew louder, a piercing sound that drowned out the city's ambient noise. It was a familiar, dreaded precursor to the fainting spell you knew was imminent, a relentless force poised to take control.

In the midst of this growing chaos, a voice pierced through the din, a lifeline in the swirling haze. "Hey, are you okay?" someone asked, their concern clear even through your muddled senses. The effort to lift your head and identify the speaker was beyond you; the world had narrowed to a tunnel of indistinct shapes and sounds.

You tried to respond, to assure them or perhaps to call for help, but your words dissolved into a string of incoherent babbles. Your tongue felt thick and uncooperative, your mind struggling to form coherent thoughts as the darkness edged closer. The last thing you registered was the overwhelming sense of vulnerability, the realization that your body was betraying you in this critical moment.

As the blackness enveloped your consciousness, you felt a profound disconnect from the world around you. The sounds, the heat, the distant figure of your classmate—all faded into a void, leaving you suspended in an abyss of nothingness. The struggle to stay present, to remain in control, slipped through your grasp like sand through your fingers.

In this void, time ceased to have meaning. Seconds or minutes, it was impossible to tell how long you lingered in that state of unconsciousness. The city, with its vibrant life and relentless sun, continued on without you, a stark reminder of your fragile existence.

When you finally awoke, it felt as though you were emerging from a dense fog, your mind struggling to piece together the fragmented reality around you. The disorientation was palpable, each moment stretching as your senses slowly reconnected with the world. Your head rested on someone’s lap, and though he was turned away, his presence was both unfamiliar and comforting in your vulnerable state.

Sounds began to filter through the haze, grounding you further. The low, urgent tone of the voice above you became clearer, barking orders with a mix of authority and concern. "Get some water!" Though you couldn't see who he was addressing, the urgency in his commands cut through the remnants of your confusion.

As your awareness sharpened, you noticed your arms were held aloft above your head. This small detail triggered a memory from your past, a practice you had shared with others in case your lips ever turned blue—a sign of your body’s desperate need for oxygen. The position was meant to untie the invisible knot in your lungs, allowing air to flow more freely and ease your breathing.

With this realization, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Even in your disoriented state, you recognized the significance of this gesture. The person cradling your head had either known or intuitively understood what to do, providing a lifeline in your moment of need.

You tried to speak, to express your thanks or perhaps to reassure the person helping you, but your voice was weak and unsteady. The effort drained you, and you opted to focus on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a conscious act of reclaiming control over your body.

It wasn’t until a groan escaped your lips that the person holding you turned to face you. Instantly, your face flushed with a deep wave of embarrassment upon recognizing him—it was Seungmin. The reassuring smile he sent your way was a beautifully rare sight, and for a fleeting moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. His lips moved, forming words that your still-dazed mind struggled to comprehend.

You blinked up at him, trying to focus, but the words eluded you. Noticing your confusion, Seungmin pursed his lips and turned to someone out of your line of sight. Almost immediately, a cold bottle of water with a straw was handed to him. He settled it gently by your head, positioning the straw so you could drink. The sensation of the cool water on your parched throat was heavenly, and you drank greedily, almost draining the bottle before you realized it.

Seungmin chuckled softly at your eagerness, the sound light and comforting. You felt your cheeks heat up again and averted your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Despite your embarrassment, the relief from the water was undeniable. Your head cleared a bit more, the world coming into sharper focus.

Seungmin continued to watch over you, his expression a blend of concern and gentle amusement. His presence, usually so distant and enigmatic, now felt unexpectedly comforting. The awkwardness of the situation didn’t diminish the warmth of his care, and you felt a small surge of gratitude.

As you finished the last of the water, Seungmin reached out to steady the bottle, his fingers brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt through you, but it was grounding, a reminder that you were not alone. He murmured something softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. Though the exact words were still lost to you, the intent was clear—he was there for you.

Gradually, the ringing in your ears subsided, and your breathing steadied. You risked a glance back at Seungmin, who was now focused entirely on you, his eyes full of quiet resolve. The vulnerability of the moment hung between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

You tried to muster a smile, a small token of thanks. Seungmin's eyes softened, and he returned the smile, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, the barriers of his usual aloofness seemed to fall away, revealing a depth of kindness that you hadn’t seen before.

Gradually, your hearing began to reawaken, stitching itself back together with your muddled senses. The familiar symphony of the bustling city—a cacophony of distant car horns, murmured conversations, and the steady hum of urban life—slowly emerged from the background noise, anchoring you to the present moment.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Seungmin’s voice cut through the haze, his tone edged with concern as he noticed your growing awareness. You managed a shaky nod, your head still spinning slightly. His brows were knitted together in a deep frown, a tangible expression of his worry.

“Can you sit up, or do you need to stay down a little longer?” he asked gently. “There’s no rush. Please, stay there if you’re still feeling dizzy.”

With a quiet determination, you placed your hands onto the pavement, the rough texture grounding you as you clumsily pushed yourself away from him. Seungmin’s steadying presence guided you with careful hands, helping you to lean against the same building you had previously sought solace from before losing consciousness. You groaned softly, closing your eyes to escape the persistent whirl of the world around you. When you reopened them, the dizziness had ebbed, though remnants of the earlier chaos lingered at the edges of your vision.

In front of you stood a middle-aged man, his apron stained with grease and his hands clasped together in a gesture of concern. His eyes were fixed on Seungmin, waiting for instructions, his face etched with worry for your well-being. The weight of his concern was palpable, and it added another layer to the unfolding scene.

Seungmin exhaled deeply, a sigh that seemed to release the tension of the moment. He settled himself beside you, his posture relaxed yet attentive. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them close to his chest, and his gaze remained focused on you with an almost protective intensity.

The ambient noise of the city continued to swirl around you, but in this small, sheltered space, it felt as though time had slowed. Seungmin’s presence was a steady anchor amidst the chaos, his concern a quiet reassurance that you were not alone. The man in the greasy apron lingered nearby, ready to assist at a moment’s notice, his worried gaze shifting between you and Seungmin.

The world slowly regained its equilibrium, the spinning sensation giving way to a more stable awareness. The tenderness of the pavement beneath you and the warmth of Seungmin’s concern combined to create a cocoon of comfort, allowing you to regain your composure and begin to piece together the events of the past moments.

“How are you feeling?” The middle-aged man’s voice was gentle, his eyes darting between you and Seungmin with a mixture of concern and kindness. “You should eat something. Come inside—whatever you get is on the house.”

A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over you, coloring your cheeks a deep red. You felt a pang of guilt for having worried such a considerate stranger. Just as you were about to politely decline the generous offer, Seungmin’s voice intervened with a firm yet caring tone.

“I agree, Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a note of unwavering resolve. “You need to eat something after fainting like that. Let’s go inside.”

Seungmin’s tone left no room for argument, the decisiveness of his words compelling you to acquiesce. You sighed softly, nodding in acceptance. The man’s face lit up with a wide grin, clearly pleased by your agreement. With a quick, eager step, he rushed into the restaurant behind you.

Seungmin rose swiftly, brushing off any imaginary dust from his clothes with a swift motion. He extended his hands towards you, his expression one of quiet encouragement. You hesitated for a moment, then grasped his warm hands. The touch was gentle, and a subtle tingle spread through your fingers, a physical reminder of his comforting presence.

Though you felt more stable now, Seungmin’s hands remained hovering near your waist, a silent gesture of support as you made your way inside the restaurant. His protective stance was reassuring, a steadying force guiding you through the threshold.

The restaurant’s interior greeted you with a comforting embrace—a cool respite from the heat outside. The space was warmly lit, with the soft hum of conversation and the tantalizing aroma of food creating a cozy ambiance. 

The tantalizing aroma of Korean comfort foods wafted through the air, weaving its way into your senses and causing your stomach to rumble in eager response. Each fragrant note of sizzling meats, simmering stews, and freshly steamed vegetables seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace, making you profoundly grateful for both the man's generous offer and Seungmin's insistence.

Seungmin guided you with gentle assurance to a table nestled at the far end of the restaurant, where the hum of conversation was softer and the space felt more intimate. The dim lighting at this secluded spot cast a gentle glow, creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort. He carefully pulled out your chair, his movements measured and considerate, and nudged you forward slightly to ensure you were settled. With a courteous smile, he then made his way around the table, taking his own seat directly across from you.

His smile was a touch awkward, a charming contrast to the seriousness he had shown earlier. He glanced around the room, searching for the man who had so kindly attended to you, only to spot him approaching with a welcoming presence. The man carried a bottle of water and two menus, the promise of nourishment and choice clearly reflected in his hands.

As he reached the table, he placed the items before you with a friendly nod. You accepted the bottle and menus with a grateful bow and a warm smile, your heart swelling with appreciation for his kindness. The bottle of water was cool to the touch, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the restaurant, while the menus promised a delightful array of dishes.

Seungmin’s gaze softened as he watched you, his concern now mingled with a gentle sense of relief. The atmosphere around you seemed to ease, the initial tension giving way to a shared moment of calm. As you began to peruse the menus, the delicious scents and the comfort of the setting enveloped you, making you feel more at ease and ready to enjoy the simple pleasures of a meal with someone who had shown such unexpected care.

The air between you was thick with awkwardness, a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging in the space after such an intensely personal moment. You busied yourself by fixating on the vibrant images on the menu, using them as a comforting distraction from the lingering embarrassment. Each picture of steaming bowls of soup and colorful plates of food seemed to blur together, a vivid kaleidoscope that kept your eyes occupied and your mind from dwelling on the recent upheaval.

After a period of shared silence, you both placed your orders, the clatter of menus and the murmur of your choices filling the brief lull. There was no longer any barrier between you and the reality of the situation. With a deep breath, you gathered your courage and, in a voice softer than you intended, you managed to say, “Thank you.” Your eyes remained firmly fixed on the table, refusing to meet his gaze, as your cheeks and ears flamed with a blush of sincere embarrassment. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could almost feel his warm, understanding smile directed at you.

“You don’t have to thank me at all,” Seungmin replied, his voice infused with genuine sincerity. “I hope you don’t mind, but I texted the professor to let him know what happened, so he’s aware we won’t be finishing the class with everyone else today.” His words were a pleasant surprise, causing your eyes to widen slightly as you briefly met his gentle gaze. The kindness of his gesture momentarily pierced through your discomfort, but you quickly looked away, your shyness reasserting its hold.

In response to his concern, you offered a grateful nod and a shy smile, the simplest acknowledgments of his thoughtfulness. The question he posed next was gentle, yet it carried an undercurrent of genuine concern. “Do you pass out often?”

At his question, you let out a soft, resigned sigh, the sound almost like a whisper of the weariness you felt. “Sometimes,” you began, your voice barely more than a murmur. “It’s been happening since I was a child, though no one seems to know why. I’ve been checked for things like epilepsy, but they haven’t found anything.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, each syllable revealing a fragment of a long-standing uncertainty.

Seungmin’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes filled with a deep, attentive concern as he absorbed each word with tender care. His silence was a soothing balm, a quiet testament to his empathy. As you recalled the moment he had lifted your arms, a question escaped you almost impulsively: “How did you know to lift my arms?”

His initial reaction was one of surprise, his eyes widening as he blinked at your sudden inquiry. But the astonishment quickly softened into a shy, almost hesitant smile. “Oh,” he began, his voice gentle. “My mother also had fainting spells, usually when it was too hot or if she had an injury.” His revelation was accompanied by a look of nostalgia, a subtle hint of the personal connection he felt to the subject.

You were taken aback once more by this shared experience. “Your mother sounds a lot like me,” you responded, your tone light but tinged with genuine reflection. “I also faint for similar reasons—when I’m overheated or emotionally overwhelmed.”

A serene silence settled between you as Seungmin gave a thoughtful nod, his eyes drifting into a distant gaze that spoke of deep, unspoken reflections. The quietude was a gentle cocoon, wrapping around both of you as he lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

You turned your gaze to the window beside you, your eyes tracing the hurried figures moving briskly down the bustling street. Each passerby was a blur of motion and color, a stark contrast to the stillness enveloping your corner of the restaurant. The scene outside seemed almost surreal, a vivid tapestry of urban life against the backdrop of your subdued conversation.

Soon, the soft clinking of dishes announced the return of the man from behind the counter. He placed your meals before you with a warm, welcoming smile, the steam rising from the dishes creating a fragrant mist that made your mouth water in eager anticipation. You bowed in gratitude, your appreciation for the meal palpable in your respectful gesture.

With a mixture of impatience and hunger, you watched him take his first bite, his expression shifting to one of satisfied pleasure. Unable to resist any longer, you dove into your own meal, an involuntary sigh of delight escaping your lips as the flavors danced on your palate. Each bite was a revelation, the taste a symphony of comfort and culinary excellence.

In moments like these, the silence between you and Seungmin felt less like an awkward void and more like a shared, unspoken agreement. The simple act of enjoying a meal together, coupled with the mutual understanding forged through your earlier conversation, made the quiet a soothing presence rather than an uncomfortable gap. The gentle hum of the restaurant’s ambiance and the shared pleasure of the food created a cocoon of calm, transforming the once-unbearable silence into a space of peaceful companionship.

As the last morsels of your meal were savored, a lull settled between you, allowing your mind to finally formulate a conversation starter. You swallowed your bite with a mix of anticipation and nervousness before glancing up at Seungmin. His features were softened in concentration, his gentle demeanor captivating as he focused on the last remnants of his dish.

“So,” you began tentatively, your voice betraying a hint of shyness, “how did you get into photography?” The simple question was laden with curiosity and the desire to connect, and as his eyes met yours, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Seungmin’s initial silence was a quiet contemplative pause, his gaze tracing the lines of your face with a thoughtful intensity before he began to speak. “My grandfather passed away from Alzheimer’s,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The weight of his words seemed to settle heavily in the space between you, and your heart tightened with a pang of empathy.

He continued, his tone imbued with a delicate sadness. “He always spoke so fondly of my grandmother, who died before I was born. He used to thank her for her love of photography because it helped him hold onto who he was and the life he lived for a long time. To keep his memories vivid, I started taking pictures of everything around me. I had them developed so he could have tangible memories to hold onto—hundreds of photos of myself, my parents, my cousins, but also of the places I cherished: my room, his house, my house…simple, everyday moments that mattered to him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the significance of his words. You struggled to find the right response, your mind racing to articulate the depth of your feelings. Seungmin’s smile was tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia as he turned his focus back to his meal, leaving you in a space filled with reflection.

After a few moments, you finally found your voice, your tone warm and sincere. “That’s incredibly sweet, Seungmin. I think it was very noble of you to do that for your grandfather.” His response was a soft grin, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink as he swallowed. The sight of his smile, so genuine and heartfelt, made your heart swell with an emotion that was both tender and profound.

In that moment, Seungmin’s vulnerability and kindness transformed your perception of him. The image of his earlier aloofness seemed to fade into a distant memory, replaced by a newfound appreciation for the depth of his character. His quiet grace and the meaningful gesture he shared painted him in a more beautiful light, revealing layers of compassion that drew you closer to him.

As the last remnants of your meal were savored, Seungmin turned his attention to you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “What about you? How did you get into photography?” he inquired, his voice gentle and inviting. You had finished your meal shortly after him, the shared silence now ripe for deeper conversation.

You gave a shy shrug, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I fear my story is not as sweet as yours,” you began, your tone light yet introspective. Seungmin’s playful roll of his eyes and encouraging nod urged you to continue, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” you continued, your gaze drifting as you recall your past, “my mother always bought magazines whenever she went grocery shopping, so our house was filled with stacks and stacks of them.” A nostalgic smile crossed your face as you painted a picture of your childhood. “I remember being a child, endlessly flipping through those magazines whenever boredom set in. I would get lost in the pages, captivated by the photographs. They seemed to tell stories of their own, each image a window into a world I found enchanting.”

Your voice grew softer, imbued with a gentle warmth as you shared how that fascination evolved. “One day, I decided to try my hand at capturing my own moments, inspired by those images I loved so much. What started as a simple curiosity quickly became a cherished hobby. The camera became a means for me to explore and create, and somehow, it just stuck with me.”

As you finished, you looked up to find Seungmin’s eyes still fixed on you, his expression a blend of interest and appreciation. The connection you felt through the shared conversation seemed to deepen, the personal stories weaving a tapestry of understanding and mutual respect. In the dim light of the restaurant, the simple act of sharing your paths through photography brought a new layer of intimacy to your budding friendship, making the quiet moments between you all the more meaningful.

“I think it’s cute,” Seungmin remarked with a lighthearted chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. The unexpected compliment made your cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink, a mix of surprise and shyness coloring your reaction.

“You’re a good photographer, by the way,” he added, his eyes twinkling with sincere praise. 

The words hung in the air like a soft melody, but you couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I’ve made it to the professor’s top five favorites only twice since I joined his class last year. You’re always the one receiving accolades for your work, which, I must admit, are truly remarkable.”

Seungmin’s gaze remained steady, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I think it’s a bit unfair for you to view it that way,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “The whole idea of being in someone’s top five is a flawed measure of talent. It’s based on one person’s subjective preferences and doesn’t truly reflect our abilities. While I’m grateful for the recognition, I’ve seen your photos and always found them to be exceptional.”

He continued, his words flowing with thoughtful consideration. “You have a remarkable skill for capturing unique subjects in their most authentic form. It’s a talent to reveal their essence so clearly, especially within the constraints of our assignments. It’s something I find quite impressive and not easy to achieve.”

The sincerity in Seungmin’s voice, combined with his unwavering gaze, made your heart swell with a mix of gratitude and admiration. The conversation took on a new layer of depth, as his words not only offered comfort but also illuminated a newfound appreciation for your own work. In the softly lit restaurant, amidst the lingering aroma of your meal, his encouragement created a warm and supportive atmosphere, allowing you to see your art through a more appreciative lens.

A warm blush spread across your cheeks, a vivid response to the cascade of compliments from Seungmin. The praise seemed to flutter around you like soft, golden leaves in the breeze, making your face flush a deep crimson. Seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment, you allowed your gaze to wander towards the window, where the sun was gently descending, casting a golden hue over the city.

“Oh,” you began, your voice tinged with an innocent attempt to redirect the conversation. “How long have we been here? The sun is setting.” The urgency in your tone was barely concealed, and Seungmin, following your gaze, glanced out with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the fading light and chuckled softly.

“I should probably start heading home,” you continued, a note of unease threading through your voice. “I don’t like walking home alone at night.” The admission was laced with a quiet vulnerability, and as you spoke, you could feel the familiar pang of anxiety gnawing at you.

Seungmin’s head turned sharply towards you, his expression shifting to one of genuine concern. “I’ll walk you home,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. “It’s no problem at all.”

A playful back-and-forth ensued as you and Seungmin debated the offer of him walking you home. Despite your initial reluctance, a sense of acceptance settled over you, allowing you to concede to his persistent kindness. You attempted to settle the bill for your meal, but the generous man from earlier refused with a warm, unwavering smile. Even when Seungmin stepped in to offer payment, the man remained steadfast in his refusal. In the end, you both left a generous tip, a token of your gratitude for his exceptional kindness.

With the bill settled and the evening stretching out before you, you and Seungmin began your walk towards your apartment building. The path was bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk, casting long shadows and a serene glow over the city streets. As you strolled side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and lighthearted banter.

The initial stiffness gradually melted away, replaced by a growing sense of ease and camaraderie. It was genuinely delightful to witness this side of Seungmin—a side that seemed to elude the confines of your shared photography class. His laughter, his thoughtful insights, and the warmth of his presence revealed a depth of character that was both refreshing and endearing.

In the gentle embrace of the evening, as the city lights began to twinkle like distant stars, the walk became more than just a journey home. It was a moment of genuine connection, a rare and cherished glimpse into Seungmin’s world, which felt like an honor to experience.

Eventually, you find yourself standing before the gleaming glass doors that lead into the lobby of your apartment building. The weight of the day’s end settles upon you, a bittersweet twinge in your chest as you come to terms with the departure of this unexpectedly pleasant companionship. The evening air, cool and gently perfumed with the scent of blooming night flowers, wraps around you both as you pause at the threshold.

Seungmin, his hands casually tucked into the front pockets of his jacket, rocks back and forth on his heels. The motion, coupled with his contemplative gaze, creates a picture of relaxed anticipation. His presence, so close to yours, carries a sense of warmth and quiet intimacy.

“This is me,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper, blending with the stillness of the evening. You turn to face him fully, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance in your eyes. “Thank you again for taking care of me earlier. I’m really happy you were there.”

His response is a smile—genuine and radiant—that lights up his features and seems to fill the space between you with a comforting glow. Your heart swells at the sight, an involuntary smile curving your lips in return. Seungmin’s eyes hold a tender seriousness as he speaks. “Please take it easy, rest all that you can,” he advises, his concern palpable in his tone.

You nod in agreement, the sincerity of his words resonate deeply with you. The air between you feels charged with unspoken sentiments, a silent understanding blossoming amidst the dimming light. “It was really nice to spend time with you,” he continues, his admission eliciting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

“I had a really nice time with you too,” you reply, your voice imbued with genuine warmth. “Maybe we can do it again sometime soon—without me having to pass out for it.”

At your light-hearted comment, Seungmin laughs—a sound that is both musical and contagious. The laughter bubbles up between you, mingling with the evening air, and you find yourself laughing along, the shared moment creating a lingering sense of joy.

As you part ways, the memory of his smile and the warmth of his laughter accompany you, leaving a soft, lingering glow in your heart that makes the end of this day feel less like a farewell and more like a promise of things to come.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

[miupow]

[good wife.] - k. taehyun

── ★ [ 📷 ] NSFW, MDNFI!! dom!taehyun, husband!taehyun, housewife!reader, mommy mention, unprotected sex, breeding kink, talk of cumming inside, established relationship, dirty talk, name calling (whore, slut)

this is a repost from my old account!! little old drabble for tyun’s bday cos i might not get JLM out by tonight >^<

“fuck, baby, pussy suckin’ me in—“ Taehyun huffs in your ear, rough and calloused hands pulling your hips flush to his. You could feel his thick fat cock all the way in your belly, knocking deliciously at your cervix and making your eyes roll back in your head. “Been needin’ this cock that bad?”

“Yes daddy, yes!” you wail, white knuckles gripping the bedsheets. Your husband’s been too busy to fuck you for almost a week now— it took getting down on your knees and begging for his cock to finally get him to bend you over. “Harder, please!”

“Harder? God, you’re such a slut.” Taehyun snickers meanly, hips already moving at a dizzying pace; you whimper in need, arch your back farther to take his cock in deeper. “Am I not fucking you good enough? Take what daddy gives you.”

Taehyun moves one of his hands to tug roughly at your hair, pulling your head back and causing your your mouth to hang open obscenely. You cry out pathetically with every rough thrust, pretty staccato “ah, ah, ah!”s every time your husband’s cockhead spears your womb, thick veins rubbing up so perfectly against your sweet spots— you feel so full yet you want more, need more. “Daddy, cum inside!”

Taehyun growls deep in his chest, palm on your hip rearing back to slap hard at your ass. “Shit, want daddy’s cum? Wanna be bred full?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you’re completely delirious, only able to focus on the stinging of your scalp and the fat cock stretching out your creamy cunt. “Want a baby! Get me pregnant!”

Taehyun chuckles again, lands another spank to your asscheek and a particularly rough thrust directly into your g-spot— you choke on your spit, drool dribbling down your chin. “Where’d my wife’s manners go? Be a good girl ‘n say please.”

You sob, overwhelmed in the best way. “Daddy, please! Breed me, give me a baby, make me a mommy! I want it, want your cum, daddy—“

Taehyun’s thrusts grow impossibly faster, impossibly harder; his heavy, panting breath hot against your neck as he bends over your arched back. “Fuck, that’s it, good girl— take this cock, gonna breed you. You want a baby so fuckin’ bad? i’ll give you one. better take all this cum like a good wife.”

[binniebakery]

🇸​​🇲​​🇮​​🇱​​🇪​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇲​​🇪​​🇷​​🇦 !📷 -- ​🇼​​🇮​​🇵​

Hard Dom!Beomgyu x Soft Dom!Soobin x Fem!Reader, Smut, (18+ minors dni please)

♡ Recipe Ingredients: mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, slight dubcon, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, reader gets called a pretty girl(+ more to come ;;;;) + this is not proofread yet!

♡ Recipe Notes: hi everyone!! decided to give you guys a late birthday gift from me to you all <3 i started working on this months ago when the thought snuck into my head,,, so here's a sneak peek! **keep in mind this is a recipe in progress and may or may not ever see the light of day!

Soobin leans in closer to you and gently grabs your face with his large hand. “Need you to do something for me, pretty girl..” he mumbles as he drags his thumb across your plump bottom lip.

You open your mouth to respond but instead settle for a desperate nod when your voice fails you.

“Say ahh~” Beomgyu singsongs behind the camera as Soobin pushes his thumb past your quivering lips. The tension in the room grows ever so thicker as both men intently watch the way you shyly swirl your tongue around.

“Put in another one. I wanna see her drool.” Beomgyu demands under his breath and Soobin is quick to comply as he slips another finger into your mouth with a ‘Come on pretty girl give us a show.’

Despite the needy whine threatening to bubble up from your throat, your spit gently drips down your chin at his request and Soobin can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at how easily obedient you are for them.

Beomgyu almost loses focus with the way you stare at the camera half-lidded, your pretty lashes tickling your cheeks as you drool over Soobin’s digits. Your face flushed from the humidity that hung around the room and the alcohol swimming through your veins. “Fuck. I can’t take it anymore. Here take it.” Beomgyu shoves the phone into Soobin’s free hand and crawls over to you, leaving Soobin to slide off the couch for a better view.

You find yourself being sloppily pulled into Beomgyu's lap but his hands hold your waist in place before you can fully sit. “Hold on now— take this shit off.” His voice is low and demanding and you freeze in place, allowing him to quickly lift your blouse over your head.

Your hair falls messily around your features and Soobin lets out a sigh. Boy were you a sight to look at.

“Look at her, she's a natural.." He coos, reaching a hand out to gently run his fingers through your hair. Beomgyu nods and bites down a condescending smile. He licks his lips slowly before replying. "Practically asking to be fucked on camera... how many views d'ya think we'll get?”

[cemetery-sunset]

🍖How the Sawyer Family Self Destructs

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Trigger warnings: self harm, cutting, eating problems, drugs, drinking, verbal and physical abuse, mentions of murder, canon-typical violence

Word count: 2k

☮️Chop-Top

Chop is a messy one. He mostly ignores his own problems, mental and physical, and makes jokes about all of them, he takes nothing seriously and just decides not to fix any problem he has. He never talks seriously about his time in the army, he only ever drops hints about what happened through jokes. The only thing he will be slightly serious about is the plate in his head. He’s only slightly serious about it when he needs help with something like cleaning it or trying to get a dent out. Even when that’s happening, he’s being stupid and making jests about the situation.

Sometimes he genuinely forgets to eat, he gets too distracted or too focused on some project… and sometimes he just decides not to. The food problems come from his time in the military. He got little food, much less any good food, when he was in Vietnam and it changed his relationship with eating. He usually gets forced to sit down and eat with the family. If he doesn’t eat with the family, he’s not going to eat for one reason or another.

He spends quite a lot of time smoking weed and trying to forget everything. Sometimes when he gets too high, he ends up blacking out and when he comes down, he doesn’t really know what he’s said or done. He thinks that’s funny.

Bobby always has his lighter on him, for smoking and for scratching his plate. Sometimes Chop uses his lighter and burns himself. He likes feeling the heat on his hand and seeing the wounds that he can inflict. He just likes playing with the flames and ends up burning himself, whether by accident or not.

He burns himself more than he cuts himself, but he still loves doing both. Sometimes he will make patterns or designs on his skin, sometimes he just gets too into it and ends up slicing up his whole arm or leg. It starts out just wanting to feel something and then his brain switches into a tunnel vision and he just keeps going, getting too excited about the look and the feeling. It’s usually not deep, they’re just on the surface; just enough to bleed and leave small scars.

📷Nubbins

Nubbins is the most pathetic one in the most dictionary sense. The biggest thing he does is constantly seek out abuse from his family. It’s mostly Drayton that gives it to him, but Nancy and Johnny are not the nicest to him either. Drayton constantly hits him and degrades him and yet Nubbins always comes back for more. There’s no way he can stop, he always ends up seeking out his brother and expecting a different result. He just ends up with more bruises and cuts.

He really neglects any type of self care. He never bathes, he only actually cleans himself when somebody forces him too and even then it’s a huge chore for him so they usually just clean him up themselves. Nubbins is just overall really bad at taking care of himself. Sometimes it’s a simple mistake of forgetting but a lot of times he just doesn’t care enough about himself to take care of his body, much less his brain or heart.

The most obvious one is that he cuts. It’s not crazy and frenzied like how Bobby does it. Nubbins is more for quality over quantity. He does them deep and slow; he makes sure that they hurt and will leave a scar for him to fond over. It doesn’t happen super often, just when he’s specifically feeling a little frantic that day. It’s like the world gets too much and he needs something to focus on. He loves how the wounds look and prods at them and plays with his blood. He never cleans the wounds or wraps them up on purpose, he likes when things get messy and he gets blood stains on his clothes.

🌼Sissy

Most of Sissy’s self destruction is the way he just plainly ignores all of her needs. She will eat very little, barely bathe, forget to drink until she’s nearly sick, she is just reckless and apathetic about literally everything. She has to be dragged into the bath and she will throw hands over it, she only ever eats at the specific mealtimes and always has small portions. With her constant bare feet, she never cares about how dirty she is or if she gets any injuries while she works. If she does get a cut or bruise while working, she pokes it and makes it worse on purpose. It’s not necessarily to force a scar or make the blood spill, she just likes the feeling and gets caught up in causing herself that pain.

She is similar to Bubba in terms of recklessness. Sissy is very rash and not necessarily elegant in her movements or practices. She’s accidently hurt herself with all manner of tools and weapons around the property. It could be tripping from running too fast, smashing her finger with a hammer or slicing her own hand with her straight razor while sharpening it. It’s not that she has no regard for herself because she is a servant, like Bubba. Sissy is just so confident in herself that she forgets how fragile human beings are. She remembers how fragile they are when she’s got victims in front of her, and she constantly reminds them of this fact. She just forgets that her own body is also just as fragile. It’s like she holds herself on a different level than normal human beings.

Another similarity to Bubba is the effect that the constant verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse has on her. Sissy is a punching bag for Drayton, Nancy, and even Johnny sometimes. Nubbins and Chop sometimes make jokes at her expense, and she has a lot of trouble taking them as jokes. All of the negative comments and horrible things said to her really stick with her and bother her. She struggles with her identity as she flips back and forth between the holy cult confident mentality and the poor abuse victim who can’t do anything right. She tries her best to act like it never bothers her but unlike Johnny, Sissy is terrible at poker and struggles with staying calm and collected. Her emotions always get the best of her and she ends up blowing up and having a fit over it all, which never ends well for her. She usually ends up with a few more new bruises to poke at.

When Bobby is having one of his smoke sessions, Sissy likes to join in. She likes feeling that blacked out, fuzzy-brained giddy attitude. She also brings some of her own drugs to the party though. The plants she grows for her poison clouds have many different uses and she’s studied them well. Sissy will smoke them and end up tripping bad, she never feels good afterward, but that out of body experience that she feels is so otherworldly that she could never just give that up. Part of her love comes from when she ran with multiple different cults on her adventures. Some taught her that she would see god if she smoked, some taught her that she would be god if she smoked. The habit started there and then just kept going. She doesn’t do it all the time, it’s like a special thing that is reserved for either a certain day or when she’s really struggling. She does get the normal high with Chop more often than she uses her own special supply.

🐔Bubba

Bubba’s is pretty straight forward. He doesn’t cut or burn himself (on purpose, he struggles with being careful). He will actively hit himself though. Sometimes it’s his fists pounding at his head, sometimes he hits his head on a wall, or something of that sort. He’s grown so used to Drayton’s abuse that at this point in his life, it almost brings him a sort of comfort. Bubba knows that no matter how much Drayton hits him and yells at him that Drayton will always be there to look out for him. Whenever he hits himself, it is his way of punishing himself, like he did something wrong and he knows it. But it’s also a type of comfort to him. When things get too overwhelming, he needs something to bring him down a few notches, and that just so happens to be forceful punches to his own head.

Bubba does the same thing that Nubbins does, they both always run back to Drayton’s abuse. No matter how big the bruises are, or how much the words hurt Bubba, the big boy will always bow down and serve his big brother. All he wants is a tiny taste of praise but Drayton will never give him any. Even when he does a good job, Drayton will make up random things to be mad at. Bubba believes himself to just be a toy, a puppet for everybody else to use for whatever reason. He’s been conditioned to always listen to Drayton, help chase down and kill victims and always be ready to jump at anybody’s beck and call. He was told so many times that that is all he will ever be, so now he believes it.

Bubba is a very large and strong man. Sometimes he is clumsy with his tools and weapons, but more often than not, he is just simply reckless. He throws all caution into the wind and takes no regard for his own safety and wellbeing. If he’s worried about anybody’s safety it’s his family’s, never his own. He runs around with his chain saw, cuts meat up too fast and doesn’t pay attention when he’s sewing a project together. He hurts himself constantly and never takes care of the injuries. They’re usually not very big wounds, but they add up after a while. Bubba is always covered in scars, cuts and bruises from many different sources.

🔪Johnny

Besides working on the cars or mechanics around the property, Johnny’s favorite pastime is having a drink at the local bar. He gets very indulgent with his drinks and has at least a few beers daily. When he’s having a particularly hard day, he indulges in the harder stuff, but he doesn’t allow himself to ever blackout or get so drunk that he makes a fool of himself in public, he has an image to uphold. He doesn’t even let his guard down enough to get black out drunk in the safety of his own home, he would rather just have a constant buzz throughout a normal day.

As strong and important as Johnny is to the family, he gets a lot of verbal and sometimes physical abuse from Drayton and Nancy in particular. Drayton only ever yells horrible things at him, the old man fears what would happen if he ever tried to hit the much larger and stronger man. Nancy is a different story. She only ever speaks highly of her son to other people, but she holds him at an impossible standard and always reminds him of that. She hits him too. Nancy is the only person who ever gets away with hitting The Johnny Sawyer. He’s gotten more than a few bruises from her. Johnny tries to hold up the facade that nothing bothers him and he is super confident, but that’s not entirely true. The negative comments and constant berating really does wear him down and he believes what they all say about him. He makes sure not to show his weakness to any of them, but it just cuts open his insides and leaves invisible scars that hurt just as much as his real scars.

Johnny has a huge love for his knives. He loves the action of cutting people or animals open and seeing the damage it, and he, can do. It gives him this crazy power trip and gets him really excited. Sometimes Johnny takes his knife and cuts himself. It’s nothing crazy and it doesn’t happen too often, he likes the pain of it and how it makes him look. He thinks the battle scars make him look stronger and tougher. He would never admit it to anybody that a fair number of the many scars littering his body are self inflicted. It helps his facade that he naturally gets a ton of cuts and wounds from fighting victims and his general blue collar working.

[love-note-musings]

˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜ toby x reader // creepypasta oneshot

request: HelloI May i request a oneshot where toby pins the reader against a wall and maybe threatens her but she lowkey can't focus BC she's thinking how pretty he is? The reader has a love hate relationship with him. Sorry if it's confusing.

word count: 3.6k

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     As the last costumer of the day left, your shoulders dropped as the tension ebbed out of your body, dropping the “customer service smile” you had plastered on for the last couple of hours. A lengthy sigh left your mouth and you shook out the tired feeling from your muscles and with a swift lock of the doors, you began your nightly routine of cleaning for close. 

      Working the night shift wasn’t so bad, you had thought, it was generally pretty uninteresting, living in a small town and all, the clientele were the same, jobs were casual, it wasn’t that horrible. Having worked at this quaint restaurant for a couple of years, you knew the ins-and-outs pretty well and you operated most of the tasks you needed to on autopilot. However, the job was one thing, and daily living was another. Of course the pay was less than what you needed to live on realistically, what with housing, insurance, and feeding yourself. You still didn’t mind the nightshift, you found it rather relaxing.

    Wiping down tables, sweeping floors and mopping, cleaning out cappuccino machines, all of it went by as fewer cars passed on the road. You could hear the breeze start of as a small gust here and there until it picked up into a violent wind that rattled the building. Soon, you figured it would begin storming, with big raindrops pelting down and you surely wanted to be in your own home underneath thick blankets before then. 

     Unlocking the back entrance, you began dragging the heavy trash-bags out in the back of the parking lot, the last thing you’d need to complete before heading home for the day. You could feel how the cold nipped at your skin and willed your legs to go faster. 

     The city was always quiet, it was still except for the symphonies trees played nearby in the forest, clanging against each other from the wind. There were stories of course, about people going in and never coming back, but there were lots of people who did come back, more so than the latter, so the locals knew it as folktales. In reality, it was just another ordinary small town, with small-towned people, small-towned restaurants, and small-towned ideas. Forest or not, it was also another small-town ideal.

     Swinging the bag into the bin, you closed it with a sharp bang just as the back door to the restaurant flew with a clang. The weather was worsening overhead with dark clouds hiding the moon and the wind was threatening to take you away with it. Your feet carried you back inside as fast as they could, one pounding after another. //

//     He crashed into the back door with a thud as his legs gave out, one arm trying to hoist himself up and another trying to stop his wound from exuding any more blood. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but the exhaustion was creeping up his body, the lights had looked like crystallized diamonds hanging off of his eyelids, and he stumbled into them with reckless abandon before collapsing on tiled floor… somewhere. Vision swimming, legs crumpled underneath him, he sat there, body trembling and nauseated, trying to grasp onto his abdomen in an attempt to convince his body to let him back up, to keep moving. It wasn’t even that bad of a wound despite its length, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t  work with, but there he was, slipping on himself in the back of some beat-up building. The lights slightly flickered every few seconds, the buzzing of electrical appliances seemingly rang through his ears in tenfold, there was nothing in his stomach but his body forced him to empty it anyway, spilling out nothing onto the black and white tiles besides the gagging noises coming from him. He couldn’t stop the movement from racking his body once again as he dragged himself forward. 

     There was a scream, a crash maybe, all he saw was a figure with their arms raised high, ready to pounce on him, everything else was foggy besides the lights. Big, bright lights. Groggily, he looked up with lidded eyes, mouth slightly agape, nostrils flaring, trying to allow more oxygen into his lungs. He yelled at his brain to move faster and to process the situation, finding nothing once again but some static sound that filled it. Their mouth moved, and the sound flowed back into his ears, slowly, and then all at once.

     “I said—“ they cleared their throat “do you need me to call the authorities?” There was an umbrella raised threateningly in their hands, knuckles already turned white. It looked like their breath was caught in their throat and their body shaked. He slowly registered the information piece-by-piece, stringing together some semblance of thought. 

     Slowly, he forced his head to move side to side, shaking ‘no’. 

     “Are you hurt?” They asked authoritatively, despite the tremble in their knees.

      Again, another rather slow nod, another no. Hurt was subjective, after all. 

     Sighing, they lowered the umbrella just a little more to their side. “What do you need? Are you in trouble?”

     He ended up coughing violently, his head was spinning and he was mentally whacked. “b.. bath- can I use your b..athroom.”

     They stood off to the side and pointed towards it, watching his movements as he tried to force himself to stand upright. He managed to get up to his knees before crashing over again. 

     “I’m going to help move you there, okay?” they said as they set the umbrella down against the wall and moved closer towards him. He nodded once and they hooked an arm underneath his and guided him to the bathroom. 

     They turned on the light inside, indicated him to ‘be careful’ and that ‘there was a first aid kit under the sink’, before leaving him alone with a soft close of the door. 

     Toby gazed at himself in the mirror, bracing his weight against the sink before shakily turning the knob and splashing himself with cool water. How many days had it been since he had first left? He couldn’t even recall how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for his body to put the brake lights on his activities and start naming demands. And one of the demands was water. He earnestly started to drink the water from the faucet, cupping his hand and bringing it up to his lips over and over again.//

//     Meanwhile, an exasperated worker decided to flick back on the lights to the dining room and begin preparing a small meal to share with the guy who just stumbled into their restaurant. They didn’t really know what his deal was, nor did they care to know, they just wanted to give him something to eat before sending him back out into the storm. If he wouldn’t talk then maybe he’d eat and be able to go back home or something like that. Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your responsibility to know, but you’d also be damned for not trying to help him out just a little bit. 

     It took awhile, but the bathroom door finally clicked open and close again. Toby stumbled along the hallway and followed the light into the dining room. There were bandages wrapped around his abdomen and minor scratches on his legs and arms. His body was exhausted and his mind was more or less alert. 

     “Hey,” when you saw him feebly inch his way, you quickly went over and offered a hand, to which he shaked it off. Regardless, you told him where he could sit in the dining room,  a little booth by the kitchen door, and watched to make sure he settled himself well. You made a note of how determined he was despite his body practically shutting down, and he hadn’t tried to stop himself yet. Even as he fell into the booth, you watched as his body relaxed and his eyes stayed vigilant, always looking this way and that, carefully observing. It was fascinating. But again, it wasn’t your business. 

     You placed a plate in front of him with leftover food from the fridge and a pastry you had been saving to take home. “You have a drink preference? I can get you water.” He shook his head and you got him a glass of water anyway, of which he eyed a bit oddly, sipping little by little. When he saw the food, however, you noticed that he immediately went for the pastry.

     He was…strange, at the very least, that’s what you gathered as you watched him from the kitchen picking at his food and glancing around every couple minutes to double and triple check his surroundings. If you had to admit to yourself, you just wanted to go home, and by now it was raining, evident by the sound of raindrops pattering onto the rooftop. You were tired too, having worked all day, cleaning up and waiting on people, and now doing it all over again for a second time. Thankfully tomorrow you’d have a day off. 

     When he drank all of the water in the glass, you went over to refill it. “My name’s Y/n, what’s yours?” You asked with as much normalcy as possible, hand settling on your waist as you stepped back to watch his expression. 

     “Toby.” He muttered, before eating more and ignoring you. 

     “It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” 

     Sometime while you were re-cleaning the kitchen, you heard the bells on the door open with a clamor and close. Shrugging, you supposed he would have left, and you didn’t expect anything more from him. But now that you were thinking about it, it was kind of weird for someone to stumble in from the back of the building, but lots of things happened out in the forest. People go out with their friends, some people like hunting deer, who knows? Some kid could have just gotten mixed up with the wrong people and left out there. You don’t consider it much, but you sealed it away in the back of your mind as a little note for later as you left the restaurant and headed home. Personally, you had never experienced anything bad out there. //

//    It became more common for ‘Toby’ to show up after closing hours. Every few days or so, he’d show up looking tired and miserable, he’d ask to use your bathroom and then lug himself out to the dining room while you gave him the leftovers. You didn’t push him to talk about himself and settled for short conversations about the weather, or asking if he needed you to call anyone this week. Whenever you asked if he needed anything, he’d say no and continue eating solemnly, playing with his food and acting almost disinterested with it. 

     “What’s your favorite food?” You asked while chewing a piece of bread from the pantry. 

     Toby shrugged, “I don’t really have one.” 

     “There has to be something that you like at least? Can’t you think of something? I can try to make sure we keep some of it here.”

     He pondered for a moment, putting his fork down. You never questioned his sudden movements or verbal outbursts at all, figuring it’d be best not to pester him with questions since he obviously couldn’t control it, other people probably bothered him enough. Toby answered you quietly, “I liked that pastry you first gave me, I..I don’t remember when that was.”

     “Hmm.. okay. I can get it for you next time.”

     And the next time you did, and the time after that, until you were sure that he was sick of it every time you served it to him. But he never said anything and accepted it without a word.

    Perhaps you could say that the two of you had come to a mutual understanding, maybe a friendship, and you wouldn’t admit it to yourself that you looked forward to your short and awkward meetings. You didn’t know much about each other, but you felt comfortable despite his out-of-the-normal appearance and habits. It was non-judge mental, as far as anyone else was concerned, nothing happened here after-hours anyway.

     You found yourself tracing his facial features in your mind, promising them to memory and making mock-paintings in your mind. He had pretty eyelashes, his skin was pale and light, he had deep scarring on the side of his mouth, that’s why you assumed he wore the mask in public, you couldn’t be sure though, and you could be less sure about the googles attached to his jeans. The only thing is that you’d wish he’d eat more since it was obvious his health wasn’t the greatest. Whenever you saw him, he was almost always exhausted and almost ready to pass out. Although, besides the first time you met, you didn’t see him with any more wounds, so you supposed it was just some off-handed accident and nothing intentional. 

     Yeah, you politely admitted to yourself that you were quite fond of your new and odd friend. Perhaps attracted, whatever attraction meant. You found him nice to be around. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to feel the same. It had been a long time since you’ve had a proper friend. . . 

     Rock songs played from the radio atop the refrigerator, melodies soft and sweet, they played from collections of the classics and you loved it. During your shifts you’d lose yourself in the tune, pretending that you existed inside music videos and getting lost in a world where the waiters and waitresses were the main characters. You had asked Toby a while ago if he liked the station you left the radio on, hoping it was to his tastes. He had replied affirmatively, and you had kept the radio on that station every time he visited. 

     “Come on, get up.” you instructed, coming around the bar and onto the dining room floor. 

     “What?” He asked, nonetheless getting up from the barstool and following you along. 

     “You like this song, I like this song, let’s dance.”

     “But I don’t know how—“ Toby insisted as you took his hands anyway.

     You scoffed with a fool’s smile, “Neither do I.”

     At first you dragged him along around the dining room floor, navigating between the tables and chairs, tapping to the beat. He was awkward and didn’t know how to move his legs, flinging this way and that, but eventually he fell into your pattern and moved along. You both laughed, rocking your bodies to the beat hand in hand. Swaying left and right and once or twice trying spin each other. At one point, Toby almost toppled over into a couple of chairs, but you grabbed on tight to his hands and didn’t let go. A silly little smile spread across your faces and the two of you turned giggly as a new song started playing and the dance continued. 

     It was true—the two of you really didn’t know how to dance, and if anyone were to look into the windows they’d see two people who were wildly uncoordinated. You felt like you owned the world and that your body was perfectly aligned to the songs, you saw Toby and how he finally looked relaxed, mouthing along to the lyrics and shaking his arms around freely with his eyes closed. When you started screaming out the lyrics yourself, belting out notes pitches too high or low, he didn’t hesitate in joining you, resulting in one grand cacophonous harmony. 

     When Toby left later that night, it hit him in the face. Realization, fear, all of those types of things that crept up his back and settled into the crock of his neck before lodging itself into thought. That feeling, it settled inside of him and wouldn’t leave, it overwhelmed him and gnawed away at his stomach lining. Toby was never still, and it was more apparent now as the anxiety rose up his cheeks. He gulped, drank from the water bottle you had given him, slipped his hatchets into his belt loops and disappeared back into the forest. He always left his hatchets hidden behind your restaurant whenever he visited you. Just so you’d never see them with all the dents and stains that’d scare you away and leave him alone again. Toby really hated being alone sometimes.

     And Toby also knew who he was. It was evident by those same stains. It haunted him. He would never be able to sleep without seeing all of the things he’s witnessed, that he’s done. While knowing who you also were, he knew that you wouldn’t need him, that you’d need to help other people that got lost at night, who just need a helping hand. He’d hope you’d be able to help a lot more people than just him. You’d need to forget him, or at least you would, eventually. //

//     The night was quieter than normal. There was no radio playing, there were no cars passing by on the road, and there was no rain or wind, clear skies all day and all night. In short, it was boring. You were propped up by your elbow as you leaned over the bar countertop, idly skimming through the contents in some magazine left here by another customer. Only one customer remained, a pleasant old man who stopped by during the weekdays to watch the news on the television here. With a yawn and a tip, he left too, and you weren’t bothered to immediately lock the door after his departure. It had been a slow day.   

    He was behind the restaurant, hunched behind some garbage cans and waiting to hear the last car pull out from the parking lot. Everything was still and he was seeing the place for the first time with orange-tinted lenses.  He shook and shivered, bones rattling, and he couldn’t stop his arms from jerking even as he held himself together tighter. The last customer was gone. Now he just had to wait for you to come outside. Rocking back and forth to calm himself, he toyed with the fraying strings on the edge of his sleeves, occupying his mind and trying to distract himself from the bloodstains forming on his shirt and pants, not to mention the uncleaned hatchets that hung by his side. It wasn’t until a rather loud clang that he was snapped out of his trance.

Shooting up from his hiding spot, he made his way over to you without even a trickle of a sound. 

     All of a sudden you were shoved back towards the building, the air was knocked out of your chest from the force and you stumbled back. Toby had one hand blocking your exit, and another raised high above your head with a hatchet threatening to crack your skull open. 

     He stared at you, questioning himself, looking at you and then the hatchet and then you - you were terrified, and trembling, and god he wanted to disappear right at that moment, to drop everything and cling onto you. And he knew it wasn’t going to happen, but still his arms wobbled and there was a hitch in his throat. One hand slowly went to his mouth to stop the whimperings from escaping and the other slowly lowered his weapon until it fell onto the pavement.

     How could he be so stupid? He caved for the niceties, any inking of kindness and he instantly folded his hand. It wasn’t the terror in your eyes that had stopped him, it was just you. The way it felt to be so close again, how his body responded by going weak, he wanted to stay like that for a long time, he wanted to stay by you for as long as you’d let him. But he couldn’t do that, could he? Trust is a delicate thing. He knew that lesson well.

     You stood there with your back pressed painfully against the wall, your heart was beating frantically against your chest, your muscles were tense, your eyes were glued on Toby as he lost his resolve and crumbled down onto the ground in a heap with his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body up and down and he heaved. Kneeling down next to him, you grabbed the hatchet and threw it as far as you could, considering for a moment if you should comfort him or not before placing a hand tentatively on his back, rubbing circles once he responded to your touch. The goggles on his face were fogging up, and you carefully found the clasp underneath a topple of tangled brown hair, letting it fall onto the ground as you wiped the tears falling down his cheeks with your hand and slipped off his facial mask. 

     His eyes did not meet yours, leaning over and making himself seem small. He sobbed until there were no more tears left, and even then his chest just heaved wildly as he struggled to find an even breathing pace. Kneeling closer, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, embracing, whispering in a soothing voice. 

     Toby wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly at first before completely enveloping you, resting his head into your lap. You felt nice, and comfortable, safe. He hung onto you for dear life.

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originally posted on quotev/citrusyfruits, reposted with permission

[vax-merstappen]

F1 boys being your personal photographer 📷

imma start using the keep reading line because i feel like it gets cluttered otherwise.

i had so much fun writing these omg. finding all the cute pictures and coming up with scenarios was literally the best thing!

Lando Norris

You were too busy laughing at a joke Ria had made to realize that Lando had taken your picture. He was always snapping pictures of you when you weren’t paying attention and only when he posted them on his jpg account would you realize they had been taken. You scolded him when you saw the post but you couldn’t stay mad at your personal photographer for long, as you had to admit the pictures were always cute. Also who doesn’t mind a little attention from a boyfriend as cute as Lando?

Oscar Piastri

Every time you went on a trip with Oscar, you always took advantage of the opportunity to get him to take pictures of you. He wouldn’t do so without a bit of prompting and direction of how exactly you wanted the picture to look, as he always wanted you to look perfect in every shot. After a bit of reassurance that the pictures were after he had captured them, Oscar always brightened up, knowing he had made his girlfriend’s day just a little bit brighter. Even though it is a bit of a hassle getting him to take your pictures, you wouldn’t trade in your photographer for anyone else!

Max Verstappen

It was your first time going to one of Max’s races as his girlfriend and Max loved seeing you dressed in Redbull Racing gear. Every time he saw you throughout the weekend, he made sure to take a picture to capture the moment. Eventually, you asked him if he only liked to take pictures of you when you wore his team’s gear, to which he replied that he always likes taking pictures of you, but that the team clothes definitely made you look hot.

Charles Leclerc

Every time you dress up, Charles insists that you pose for a picture. You decided to put on a new dress for a date and dinner with Charles and as you walked through the city he stopped you all of a sudden. “Mon amour, I need to get a picture of you. You look too pretty to forget.” How could you say no? After quickly posing for him, you beamed with joy, feeling like the most beautiful woman in the word. If you asked, Charles would have told you that you were indeed the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Carlos Sainz

It was your first time playing golf and Carlos had given you instructions on where to stand and how to hit the ball correctly. You had given it a try, dramatically failing in your first two attempts, but managing to hit the ball a good ways on your third swing. As you continued to play, Carlos stood behind you and took your picture. You turned around excitedly after hitting the ball really well and saw Carlos grinning in pride and holding a camera. You ran into his arms, happy your boyfriend was so proud.

Lewis Hamilton

If you looked at Lewis’ camera roll, it would be filled with pictures of you and Roscoe, sometimes together and sometimes apart. One that particularly stands out was when he came home from a weekend racing to find you and Roscoe curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. He quietly entered the room and set his bags down before immediately sneaking over and taking a picture of his two sweethearts looking so peaceful together.

Daniel Ricciardo

One thing about Daniel is that you cannot stop him from taking pictures of you. That man always has his camera wherever he goes and more often than not, you find yourself the focus of his shots. So you were not surprised when you went to take a picture of the sunset only to see Daniel over your shoulder, taking a picture of you taking a picture. You of course didn’t mind, as pictures are one of the ways Daniel shows you how much he loves you. Fans always love seeing new posts on Daniel’s jpg account because they know the posts are filled with more content of you waiting to be seen.

Yuki Tsunoda

Yuki always found you most beautiful when you were doing something you loved. So when you went outside to put the final touches on your most recent painting, Yuki went with you. At first he only watched intently as you worked, but then he pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of you. When you checked your phone later that day, you saw a picture of you and your art on his Instagram story with a caption saying “my beautiful artist.”

Alex Albon

Alex always manages to capture your worst moments on camera (or what he would call your best moments). From pictures of you drunk to picture of you making silly faces, he has all the blackmail photos he could ever need of you. One of his personal favorites is the time you two were walking down the street after a night at the bar and you insisted on trying to ride the “spinny thing” at the playground you stumbled across. Needless to say, drunk you didn’t last very long and Alex caught you mid fall.

Logan Sargeant

Neither you nor Logan had traveled much before he got into racing. So once he began to visit the different countries on the schedule, he decided he wanted to get a picture of you in each place you went together. Of course you couldn’t come to every race, but at the ones you did attend, you made sure to get plenty of pictures of each other at all of the tourist attractions nearby the track. Your personal favorite picture he took was in Singapore, a country both of you had on your bucket list.

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 4

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College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode four!

Song recommendation: circles- post malone

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Taglist: @bts-iris @kaeysv @khadeeeeej @rockstryoon

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"Jungkook?" you shout when stepping out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of baggy, low sitting sweats and a black tanktop that you had taken with you earlier. Appropriate for late night Fried chicken runs. Your voice filling up the empty hallway, no sight of the handsome teacher.

His groan can he heard from behind his bedroom door as he opens it.

"Finally done?", he walks out, a comfortable white hoodie with matching bottoms hanging loosely on his body.

Something about these damn casual clothes just make him look attractive.

It felt like your own little secret, seeing Jungkook outside of his classroom, his perfectly correlated image.

In the comfort of his own home, messy, having just woken up or going out casually.

It made you feel giddy, even if it was not supposed to.

Jungkooks eyes glue on your neckline, collarbones so delicately on display, damp hair sprawled out.

The drops of water dropping on your shirt reminding him of him of the forbidden thoughts tangled in his mind minutes earlier.

Gulping, he points to it "Dry your hair, you´re gonna catch a cold"

"Was gonna ask you for the blow dryer" you say, noticing the way his eyes focus on your cleavage.

No, you're over analyzing things now.

"Let me get it, right here" his inked arm reaching into a cupboard of the bathroom, pulling out a hairdryer and handing it to you.

"Thanks" your smile spread across your face as you dry your hair quickly, Jungkook gathers up his wallet and car keys, waiting for you at the front door.

"Lets go get drunk" you giggle with a fist pumped up into the air, walking past him to put on your shoes on. It had been ages since you had last gotten drunk with someone.

"The shit I do with you hm? How did we even get here" he shakes his head, trying to hide the little smile playing on his pierced lip.

"No idea, but I´m trying to forget all that mess anyways. you ready?" you reply to him, opening the front door to make your way to his car.

Buckled in, excited to loosen up a bit, you hit the radio to play.

The thrid time´s a charm right?

"Yeah no shut it off" he says, reaching to turn it off with his free hand.

"Nope. Only now please, not even the ride back, Are you allergic to music?" you slap his hand away, chuckling and waiting for the news segment on the radio to conclude.

"You´re in my car idiot, turn the radio off" he groans, his face beaming with annoyance.

Instead of responding and complying to his wishes, you turn up the volume and start singing along to the song playing, arms swaying in motion as happiness fills your body up. Being around Jungkook made you able to stop worrying so much about everything, you enjoyed a moment like this. Devoid of any care in the world, any problems or uncertainty.

Glancing over to him, his eyes locked on to the road with his lips tugging back a grin.

"See? not too bad" you tease while continuing to sway to the music.

"Horrible actually, your awfully off key singing just makes it worse. Check if my ears are bleeding i feel you´re ruining them"

"Drama queen. I´m a music major, I know i can sing stop pretending" your eyes roll, looking out of the window as the next song plays. he scoffs, secretly waiting for you to resume your screeching.

Instead of singing your heart out, you hum lowly to the soft vocals playing in the car. Jungkook snorts suddenly, making you shoot him a look of anger.

"Took that to heart? Keep singing idiot, you sound fine" his eyes move to yours in an attempt to show he´s just fooling around with you, while also pulling into the drive through of the chicken place.

"You suck. I forgive you because you´re buying me food" your hands reach for the radio, turning it off to make the employee hear Jungkook´s order. He smirks slightly, shifting in his seat to turn to you. With the way he´s looking at you, you expect him to say something serious.

"Ridiculous" is all he says before placing the order.

"Are we going to get soju from a convenience store?" You ask him, noticing he's driving back in the direction of his place.

"Yeah, its closer to me. I'll let you pick the flavors even" his voice in a low but playful tone.

"That´s crazy you're sooo sweet" obviously sarcastic you touch his shoulder, eyes squinting at him.

He grins, "I'm doing great at being nice aren't i? Come on, we need to get out here" he says when parking on the side of the street.

The store had many, many flavors. You examine each one carefully, wisely choosing which one fits the current vibe of well, getting drunk with an unexpected new friend who you happen to live with now. All the while, Jungkook is peacefully clutching hands full of snacks and ramyeon.

"I think ill take two melon, one strawberry and one peach. Sound good?" You mumble, looking over at him.

Immediately you start to laugh, he is standing there looking like a hungry kid left alone in the snack aisle. Tightly gripping on to as many snacks his large hands could hold on to. To capture this hilarious moment, you pull out your phone to snap a pic.

Rolling his eyes at your gesture, he nods, "Take one more peach, i like that one the best" he adds, already scanning his snacks at self check out.

"Noted" you reply, grabbing one more peach soju and setting down the five bottles of liquor for him to scan.

When he does, you walk back to the car, a bag full of alcohol, snacks and ramyeon in Jungkook's hand.

This was going to be a long night

"I guess we're calling in sick tomorrow?" He says, pulling the car out of the parking spot and driving back to his apartment.

"Naah, we'll be fine, right? Or are you a lightweight?" you smirk at him playfully, knowing very well that four shots are enough to get you very tipsy.

"Unfortunately that is one of the very few flaws i have. Don't act like you're all hard-core huh" he scoffs, remembering how horrible his last time being drunk went. He completely lost his mind. Drank way more than he should have and ended up waking up at some random girl's couch, next to two other men.

25 was definitely a crazy age for Jungkook, lesson learned.

That is however, also how he met his best friend Mingyu. Him being one of the other guys on this woman's couch.

That's a story for another day.

"Mister perfect over here. Yeah yeah, i'm also a light weight. But I'm a funny drunk"

His eyebrows furrow, "funny drunk?" he asks

"Yeah, like when i'm drunk i get super funny and unserious. Some people are angry drunks or emotional drunks" you explain, your eyes focused on the steering wheel. Studying the way his hand wraps around it, his fingers tapping against the smooth leather whenever he stopps the car.

He hums in return,

"Which one are you?" you ask him curiously, imagining what it would be like if he was also a funny drunk, dancing on his living room table or cracking up at something stupid.

It's not nearly as impossible to imagine as when you had first met him. After this past week of spontaneously getting to know parts of him, he is not actually as boring as initially anticipated.

Still, the thought seems particularly interesting, maybe a little over exaggerated.

"Don´t know. I guess we'll find out today" he says shrugging, his lips curving into a small, meaningless smile.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Wahhh finally" you exclaim, letting out a huff of air when setting down the bottles of soju on the table along with the food and some snacks.

You plop down on his couch dramatically, waiting for him to sit down next to you. He does exactly that, opening one of the peach soju bottles and pouring both of you a shot.

Slowly, you reach for his hand to place the small glass in your fingers, focused on the millisecond his hand would graze yours. He hands it to you carefully before taking his own glass in his hands.

"What do you wanna toast to?" He asks, leaning back against his couch. His legs are spread, his right arm supporting his head by propping it up on a cushion.

"Gosh i can't pick one, there's so much that happend" you giggle, zoning out while looking at the table and remembering how you were hit by the biker, how you had an argument with him, the day of getting kicked out and much more.

He snaps you out of your flashbacks, "You're trying to forget all that right? Stand above it?" his question makes you nod at him.

"Then lets just toast to a new chapter" he says blankly, his eyes moving to yours, awaiting approval.

"Sure, good idea" you smile slightly, extending your arm forward to meet him in the middle as he does the same, glasses clinking together.

You pour the shot down, the alcohol slightly burning your throat in a delicious, satisfying way. It truly felt like things had gotten better.

Washing away whatever has led you here in the first place.

He does the same, his hair falling behind him messily, his neck beautifully on display as he swallows down the shot.

"So? Good right, told you this flavor is it" he says, waiting for you to say something in return. His hands reach to take his glasses off, revealing all of his softened face to your wandering eyes.

"Tastes sweet" mindlessly licking your lips, savoring the remains of alcohol on them, you look into his eyes.

You watch them go down where your tongue had just been before, shooting back up again quickly.

"Lets eat im hungry" you fake whine, setting down the glass and opening up the bag of food.

Jungkook groans in return, reaching to take out some food as well.

"Always so impatient"

The time passes rather quickly. Soon the food was finished, both of you had already drunken one soju bottle each, the next one already half empty, opened on the table.

"You know.." you say, tipsy and with a wide smile sprawled across your face. Cheeks flushed pink from the liqour you consumed.

Lightweight indeed.

Jungkook tilts his head, listening to you closely.

"I'm reaaallllly thankful for you kook" you giggle, the nickname just naturally spilling out from your lips. Your vision is blurry, but you´re almost certain you see a smile creep up his face.

He notices it too, feeling his heart turn warmer as his brain gets irritated at the feeling. To try and conceal his painfully loud heartbeat, he reaches to pour another shot. Throwing it back into his mouth, right after doing the same with the second one.

"Me tooooo" you laugh, reaching forward with grabby hands, trying to take the bottle away from him.

He stops you, pushing your arm back down, noticing his body becoming more dizzy and uncorrelated.

"You've had enough idiot, no more drinking for you" his voice is low and sultry, his eyes remaining glued to the smile on your face, not a serious thought behind your red and glazed eyes.

You´re a funny drunk for sure.

"Okay thennn but, kook?" You question, scooting closer to him on the couch. He winces at the nickname, it's not easy to ignore when you keep calling him that, keep reminding him of that feeling in his chest.

He stiffens up at your proximity, feeling the need to run away from this.

But he simply can not bring himself to do so.

"Hm?" he says, setting the bottle down and waiting for your question. He expects something stupid and senseless, his mind growing more fuzzy as the soju's effect kicks in.

"Why are you always so mean? I learned once in psychology class... you know.. people are mean to protect themselves" you slur, tugging playfully on his hoodie when asking the question.

He pulls his arm away, looking at the table and scoffing.

"Come onnn you know sooooo much about me too jungkook" you´re back to giggling again, the wide and drunken smile still spread on your face.

He takes another shot to prepare himself for this uncomfortable conversation, if he was even to engage in it.

Just in case.

The thoughts in his head are blurry, raw in emotion and unclear all at once. Memories of his past resurfacing in a haze, reminding him of the scars he carries within him.

Whether from the alcohol or the questions, his eyes become glossy.

"Had a bad upbringing, got bullied and beat a lot for stupid shit like my interests" his voice starting to slur out lowly, shaking his head at the memory of his hometown school. Jungkook sighs before taking a deep breath.

"Made me toughen up i guess" he says, his eyes wandering to meet your face again.

You were not smiling anymore, instead a big overly expressing pout on your lips. Mumbling a couple "M'so sorry kook"

He nods, ready to change the topic.

"You've a gooooood heart. Promise"

Your hands are both pressed against his chest, firmly.

Your touch feels like fire on his body, even if covered by a thick piece of clothing, he can feel it. He can feel every crevice of your skin slowly imprinting on his chest. Your words only leave behind a bigger mark, staining his brain with them.

Instead of pulling away, his eyes glue to you, remembering to engrave this moment into his mind, hoping it would still be there once he sobers up.

As he stares, he can't help but bite his lip at you flushes cheeks, how soft your hair looks, slightly draping on your lazy smile.

Suddenly, you take your hands off his chest, hugging them around yourself, dramatically shivering.

"Aahgg, so cold. Wow, are we in the arctics?" you laugh wholeheartedly at your stupid joke, convinced it must be the funniest thing you had ever said.

For the first time in a while, Jungkook acts before he thinks. Excusing it by his clouded state of mind, confident he can blame it all on the alcohol, not on his feelings.

He pulls his white hoodie above his head, leaving him in a tanktop. Without hesistation, he pulls you closer. So close, your knees are on top of his thighs, one more move and you would be sitting on his lap.

He puts the hoodie over you gently, telling you to push your arms up the sleeves.

You comply, laughing loudly.

He smiles when you get stuck in the hood,so he reaches to pull it down, revealing your messy haired head inches away from his own.

The world freezes and becomes yours only.

His face inches closer to yours, looking into your eyes softly. Your breath is quiet on his face as you are stood still, a small smile hung up on your lips. Screaming to be kissed, screaming for him to close the distance.

You might be drunk, but you aren't wasted.

Jungkook's face looks even more beautiful up close, the scar on his cheek perfecting his features, his sharp eyes looking at you as big, brown, doe ones instead.

He looks at you like you hung up the stares for him.

Your heart is clenching at the closeness, the moment feels eternal, only one more second until you would break all you had known and get what you had wanted most right now.

Jungkook licks his lip piercing, pulling away from you before clearing his throat.

It was almost like you could hear your heart shatter if you had listend close enough.

Foolish little me.

"We're both too drunk. Come on, let's get you into bed" he smiles at you softly, standing up wobbly and reaching his arm out to help you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The alarm rings, causing Jungkook to wake up. Still on his couch, a annoyingly heavy feeling on his head.

Stupid hangovers.

Turning off the alarm he sits up, staring at the messy table before him. Three empty bottles of soju laughing at him for his stupidity.

Nothing goes right when he drinks.

He rubs his head in annoyance, noticing that he is not wearing his hoodie.

Memories of your face close to his, your hand on his chest, flashing in his mind.

Get yourself together, Jungkook, that's all meaningless. You can't keep flirting with your student.

Groggyly he calls into the office, announcing his absence for the day before cleaning up the mess that yesterday's night has left.

Throwing out the empty containers of food, gathering the two left over bottles and putting them into the fridge.

When taking the last steps to a clean living room, still thinking about the way your voice sounded saying his name yesterday, he knocks over an empty bottle of soju.

Crash.

You shoot up from the loud noise, immediately groaning at the penetrating headache that was the result of yesterdays escapades.

Should've known better.

When rubbing your eyes and yawning, you quickly walk out to room to look for the noise, spotting Jungkook crouched down, cleaning up the shattered glass.

"Ah fuck. Sorry i woke you up" he says, voice still raspy from sleep, turning his body to look at you. You stood there, sleepy and still in his comically large hoodie.

He wanted to stop thinking about you.

"Yeah its okay, you good? What time is it?" You stretch your arms up, only now noticing that you're still wearing his clothes.

Remembering the way you wanted him to kiss you just hours earlier.

"I´m good. Its dawn crack in the fucking morning because i thought I would be able to work today. No way in hell am i leaving this house" he groans, throwing away the glass shards.

You hum, awkwardly creating silence between the both of you.

Luckily he breaks it soon enough.

"Nice dress you got there" he remarks with a smirk, obviously making fun of you.

You scoff, pulling the hoodie over your head and throwing it at him.

He chuckles briefly at your actions, remembering how he threw a shirt at you before.

"Fair enough" he mumbles as you walk past him to the bathroom,

"Emotional" stopping next to him to pat his shoulder.

He glances at you, confused

"Are you talking in riddles to piss me off?"

"You're an emotional drunk, kook" you say, closing the door on him once again.

When having done your morning pee and it's time for you to walk back out of the bathroom, he´s sat on the couch.

"Why are you calling me by a nickname so suddenly?" he blurts out, his eyes sternly glaring at you. You scoff, wondering why he's so worked up about it.

Jungkook wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened, to not have to confront his feelings.

But if you were gonna call him 'kook', he would be constantly reminded of it.

Even if he liked the way it sounded, replaying in his mind.

"Because it suits you" your reply seems to anger him even more, unsure what you meant by your words.

"I'm not your little friend y/n. Don't get to comfortable" he spits out rudely, fully regretting it the moment his words leave his mouth.

Why was it so difficult to ignore you?

You roll your eyes at him, not taking it to heart. Well aware he's just saying things to hurt you.

After the way he opened up yesterday, even if drunk, you trusted him.

Trusted that he trusted you too.

His defenses are hard to lower, but you want to. Even if that means sometimes taking hits.

Jungkook needed someone to understand him, just like you needed someone like him as well.

Someone that accepts the way you are, while trying to help ypu change into a better version of you.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to strike a nerve" you reply casually, walking into the kitchen.

"I'm cooking hangover soup. If you're done being an asshole go get you some" your voice shouting from the kitchen.

"Whatever" he says, laying back down on the couch.

Googling up a recipe, you began cooking, occasionally looking at Jungkook passed out once again on his couch.

"Ridiculous" you huff out, lips pursed.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"I'm NOT going to do that, no way Taehyung" you laugh at the guy in front of you.

Two days have passed since drinking with Jungkook. It's now friday afternoon, you're sitting in the library with the freshmen from the orientation.

Taehyung came up to you after class, asking to study for a test together. He´d been eyeing you ever since, still calling you ´´pretty´´ instead of your actual name.

The days have passed as normal, bickering with Jungkook and talking about things here and there.

You would be lying if you said that it hasn't been a little awkward.

It was getting harder to ignore the way you felt when Jungkook was around you, the way his strong veiny hands looked, the way he groaned at his laptop, adjusting his glasses.

How you wanted to trace every line of his sleeve tattoo.

The way you smelled his shirt he had given you to sleep in.

He was slightly more distant, restraining himself countless of times.

From thinking about you, wrapped around him.

"What? Why not. It's just a party" Taehyung smiles, closing down his laptop and taking a sip of his drink.

"Exactly. A freshmen party. I'm not a fan of parties, i pass. Hope you'll have fun though" you give him a thumbs up, shaking your head.

It was obvious that Taehyung wanted to take you there to get a chance at getting in your pants.

After seeing him on campus, he was always talking to some girl. It had only been two days that you hung out, counting today.

His flirty personality making it evident that although he could potentially be a good friend,

He was definitely not looking to date you.

Or anyone at all.

"A shame. You're kinda boring. Cute, but boring" he winks, packing up his stuff with you following suit.

"Thanks you party animal. Can't wait to hear about how many girls you've slept with after. Text me yeah? Stay safe" pulling him into a hug, you both walk outside of the library.

"Okay mom, will do"

Your face scrunches up in disgust at the nickname,

"Never do that again" you say hitting his arm, earning a loud laugh from him

Once you made sure Taehyung has left your eyesight, you walk behind the building to get into Jungkook's car.

Two minutes past the agreed upon time, you find him biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

"Hey, sorry I'm a wee bit late. Had to fight off demons" you joke while buckling in your seat.

"What happened this time?" Jungkook's eyebrow lifts curiously, he remembered Taehyung stopping you at the end of his class.

The thought pissed him off heavily,

"I was studying with Taehyung but he wanted me to come to a party with him" you explain, watching as his eyes darken and his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

"Is that so?" his voice sounding husky, "Are you going? I need to be prepared if i have to come pick you up disguised" he scoffs, looking out the window.

"Of course not. He's just saying that to get me tipsy in hopes of getting in bed with me" you giggle, amused by Jungkook's reaction.

When he stays silent, you decide to tease him.

"What? You look like something's bothering you kook" purposely using his nickname to push his buttons further.

His eyes look down at you, licking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

"Yeah? You're bothering me. I don´t wanna hear about some college boy in your pants, none of my business" he says, driving off to his apartment.

Another lie passing his lips, he definitely cared if you were going to sleep with some campus playboy.

Surpised at the fact he's not fighting you on the nickname, you decide to test your limits. Pushing his buttons could end up in a fight, if not, the smile he gives will have made it worth the risk.

"I told him to text me how many girls he'll sleep with. What do you think kook? Im guessing four" you nervously watch his features, concentrating on any changes that might indicate anger or annoyance.

"You're gross. I'm not playing that game with you. Also, i know exactly what you're trying to do. I don't mind the nickname, stupid"

You smile at his reaction, patting his shoulder,

"Good. I wouldn't have stopped using it anyways"