#how many times are they gonna not replace parts that need to be replaced like every year

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What do you think cooking looks like in the wizarding world?

As in, how many modern ameneties do you think they're incorporating? We can assume they have things like a toaster, since they eat toast all the time in the books (unless there's a toasting spell) but I highly doubt the wizards have a dishwasher, since magic can fulfill the same function and the Weasleys don't use one.

Other things, like microwaves, are a little more unclear to me, since there's definitely a spell to reheat food, but microwaves also have some unique properties in HOW they cook that gets you things like mug cookies. And how would they be cooking rice? They'd probably have to stovetop it right? Which seems a lot more inconvenient than a microwave or a rice cooker.

Adding into that, there are unique ingredients wizards have access to with magical plants and animals that might require a different approach to cooking them. Do you have any thoughts on that front?

Do you think certain foods that are less common in the muggle world are really common in the wizarding world? Or vice versa?

We also know house elves do a lot of the cooking and chores for families that have them, but how much magic is involved in that process?

It also seems like even with magic involved, it takes Molly a lot of time and effort to cook. That might just be because she has to cook so much to feed everyone or because they eat everything homecooked, but I feel like it's an indicator that cooking with magic doesn't make the process that much easier, just different. Instead of a dishwasher you're using your wand and all that.

And speaking of homecooked, what kind of pre-packaged meals do you think exist in the wizarding world, and what would prep for that look like?

Sorry, this was like 12 questions in one, I just had more thoughts the more I looked at it.

I saw this ask and I was immediately super interested to answer it because it raises some fun world-building details. Now, I'm gonna say, right out of the gate, I think wizards use close to 0 (zero) modern amenities in cooking. They have spells, stoves, ovens, tools like knives, and that's basically it.

I'm gonna start with the toast since you can make toast without a toaster. All you need is a frying pan (or oven, but I use a frying pan).

So I assume that's how wizards make toast as Mr. Weasley clearly treats toasters as a muggle contraption he has no clue how to use:

Sitting on top of Mr. Weasley’s overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccuping in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs.

(OotP)

(I want to note about toast in a frying pan, as someone who makes it occasionally, the taste and consistency of the bread is so much better in a pan than in a toaster. You fry it with butter (or olive oil) so it doesn't get dry like in a toaster. It's great, you should try it)

And you don't need a rice cooker to cook rice, you can make rice in a pot on the stove with water, that's a thing people do (by people, I mean me, I never owned a rice cooker). Like, people made rice before the rice cooker was invented (as they made toast before the toaster was invented). But, I'll note I don't think rice is a standard part of the cuisine in Magical Britain, at least it doesn't seem to be served at Hogwarts or at the Weasleys. The staple carbs we see served most often in the books are potatoes, I believe (potatoes are probably the most mentioned food that isn't candy).

Like toasters, wizards have no idea what a microwave is or how it works:

Back in the kitchen, Moody had replaced his eye, which was spinning so fast after its cleaning it made Harry feel sick. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers. 

(OotP)

They don't even know how to work a potato peeler which is interesting since they do peel potion ingredients. I assume they are used to just using knives and scalpels to peel ingredients and not peelers made for the job. Basically, wizards still cook like in the 19th century in terms of tools and amenities.

I was always under the impression they have heating, cooling, and preserving charms (since they don't have fridges) that replace many amenities. Though I assume preserving charms won't really work like a fridge, they would keep the food as it is, if it's warm, it stays warm so you won't even have to reheat it!

And any heating charm would likely not be able to cook like a microwave, neither would it heat like an oven or a stove (I imagine it'll have an effect similar to an air fryer if I had to guess) and they don't seem to have ready-made microwavable food either, so, they won't really need a microwave. I mean, all the food we see is homemade from scratch. Besides, pre-made meals just don't fit the vibe of the Wizarding World.

To continue the discussions of household charms, there is a charm that make dishwashers unnecessary:

She [Molly] flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

(CoS)

As for it taking Molly time to cook even with magic, well, I think that has more to do with the cooking than the effort. Like, magic probably makes quite a few of the processes necessary for cooking (peeling, mixing, dicing, etc.) easier, but cooking still takes the same time. Like, if you need a certain amount of minutes to heat up water to a boiling point in a given heat, magic doesn't make a difference. If it takes 2 hours for something to bake in an even heat in the oven, it would still be 2 hours even if the heat source is magical. The heat is still the same heat. That's why, I think, magic doesn't really affect the time it takes for something to cook.

(I will note it's possible mixing, dicing, and peeling might need to be done by hand too considering they do all of this by hand for potions. But I think they can be done by magic mostly because potion-making is different from cooking and it's likely spells for this aren't as exact and precise as doing it by hand, especially for young and inexperienced wizards and witches. Also, a severing charm exists, and making a spoon mix a cauldron for you is very similar to making utensils clean themselves, which is something we know they can do. So, I think this is more a matter of personal preference of whoever is cooking)

House-elves need to cook the way wizards do. They don't have any unique magic that can speed things up. Certain things take a certain amount of time to cook and no magic can help it. There are pots and pans in Grimmauld Place that Kreacher uses to cook:

The kitchen was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone: Copper pots and pans had been burnished to a rosy glow; the wooden tabletop gleamed; the goblets and plates already laid for dinner glinted in the light from a merrily blazing fire, on which a cauldron was simmering. 

(DH)

He still needs to cook in pots just like Molly does. So house-elf magic doesn't make much of a difference, I think.

As for common foods, I don't really know. We see potatoes and meats are very common, so, I'd say wizard cuisine is probably very local and doesn't have as much modern or international influences as the muggle one does. Wizards don't have fast food, nor do the ones in the UK seem to eat Asian food, for example. The food we see in the series is all very British. So, I think the cuisine would really be very local and based on stuff grown/raised locally by wizards (and perhaps muggles on occasion) for the most part. At least, that's the impression I got.

As for magical ingredients in food, well, most magical plants and herbs have magical properties used for potions. Many of these are properties you don't want your food to have, so I don't think magical plants are used for cooking often if at all.

Same with magical creatures as most of them are illegal to capture and kill. So, I don't see them as part of the cuisine either.

These are the thoughts I have on this at least.

[moe-broey]

Idk I also just hate the future actually. My ass is Always living in the past or simply day to day 💪💪💪

[andromedasummer]

Bro.... not the interislander STILL stuck run aground.... refloat attempt two is being made.... this is new zealands evergiven....

[lesbianbucky]

you guys know that tiktok audio about homosexual audacity and thinking you can do anything with no prior experience? "no i've never done that but i'm gay so how hard could it be?" that's me right now having almost no knowledge of computers but wanting to build by own pc

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[kissenturine]

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 boothill x m!reader — 3.3k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: mechanic!reader, sub!reader, reader gives boothill a dick, reader takes away his censorship, mean dom!boothill, maybe ooc!boothill, fingering, heavy heavy dirty talk, boothill calls reader a whore & slut, boothill steps on reader's dick, blowjobs (boothill receiving), degradation. lmk if i missed anything!!

KAI SAYS: boy am i down bad for this little space cowboy

As a hardworking mechanic, you often pride yourself on your accomplishments. You—like any decent one—had many. From what you worked with to what you managed to fix, there were many things that could be considered impressive to a crowd.

None of them, however, were as impressive as the time you managed to remove Boothill’s censorship and give him back what he called: “a missing piece of his heart.”

Your dimly lit mechanic shop is cluttered with tools amongst other sharp things. Scattered about every flat surface usable is a screw, nail, wire, metal board—anything you could make use of. In the centre of the workshop is the only real space you kept clean.

Sitting in the middle of the room is a large, metallic workbench. It’s impressive, to say the least. Hooked up to an uncountable number of wires, switches and knobs decorating the sides, tools hanging from hooks, everything about it is a sight to behold.

What’s more impressive—even more magnificent—is the man sitting on top of it.

With his legs sprawled out and his head idly lolling from side to side, Boothill himself is a man to bless the eyes. The way his body worked, how each wire and sensor inside his cyborg body worked in tandem with each other to create the masterpiece that was him.

Of course, you only think like that because you’re a mechanic. You know how hard it is to put together a synesthetic body part, let alone a whole human being.

To people who don’t know the complexities of machinery, they might just think he’s a handsome cyborg. And really, they weren’t wrong. Whoever created his body, whether it was Boothill himself or another person, was quite the artist with the way they’d managed to create Boothill as a cyborg and still leave in his human charm.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Boothill grumbles, pulling you very quickly out of your thoughts. “Ya gonna continue starin’ or ya gonna actually help a guy out?” He waved at the dent in his hip, a noticeable cave to the metal plate.

“Yes, yes.” You huff. While you did find the cyborg part of Boothill impressive, his personality… not so much. He was endearing at times, but mostly he could be a pain in the ass.

A lot of the time, he’d get himself scratched and broken just to come back to you only when he’s on the brink of shutting down. Or, he’d either only come to you with the smallest, most irrelevant and easy-to-fix problems known to man.

His current state being the latter.

You make your way carefully over to Boothill, dropping to your knees beside the workbench to inspect the minimal damage done to his hip. “It’s… not even that bad.” You murmur, eyes darting up to his. “You could probably play it off as a hip dip or something.”

“Nope!” Boothill grunts, moving his metallic hand to tap against the metal of his hip. “Not happenin’ cutie. Need this body o’ mine to be in tip-top condition for my next bounty.” He grins widely, stretching his legs in front of him as he rests his arms back behind his head.

You only roll your eyes in response, already pulling out your screwdriver to replace Boothill’s so-called “broken” hip. “Whatever you say then…” You grumble, working away at the screws on the plate.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” Boothill hums, absentmindedly picking at the metal of his shoulder.

You wince at the nickname, your eyes shifting from where you’re working to Boothill’s face. “What’s with the nicknames…?” You say, voicing your curiosity. “We’ve known each other for what, six months now?” You raise an eyebrow at him before you continue. “Six months, and we're not even dating yet you always seem to use some form of a nickname.”

“Well,” Boothill hums, “the guy that made this good ol’ body of mine decided I would benefit from losing a thing or two. Those bein’ my ability to swear and of course my clock.”

“Your… clock?” You give him a confused look as you screw the metal back into place, finishing off his new hip.

“No, no, cutie, not an actual clock.” Boothill rolls his eyes. “My, uh, manhood, ya know?”

“Your…” You trail off. “Oh.”

He grins at you, opening his legs widely on the table. “Look if ya want, I got nothin’ to hide down there.” He gives you a wink before leaning further into your workbench.

You glance down at his crotch and see that it is, indeed, very flat. I guess what he said is true then…

You’re about to pick up your tools when you hear Boothill call for you, his name dropping from his lips. “Hey, uh, you don’t happen to have any o’ those synesthetic clocks, do ya?”

You give Boothill a blank look. While you did have a few lying around, as per a customer who was willing to pay a hefty price of seven million credits for one, you didn’t think Boothill would want one.

“Yeah…” You eventually respond. “I do.”

Boothill’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. “Oh, mother fudgin’!” He says before eagerly jumping off the workbench. “Please,” he begs, “ya gotta hook me up with one! Haven’t felt it in so long, ‘s like a piece of my heart’s been missing!”

You cringe at his choice of terminology before looking up at the pleading man. “Well, they cost a hefty price—”

“I’m willin’ t’pay!” Boothill cries, the same pleading tone still present in his voice. “Please, anythin’ for my clock back!”

“I—y’know what, fine.” You grumble, not having the energy to think up an argument. You wave your hand at your workbench. “Sit on the edge while I grab one. I’m just gonna assume you want the biggest size.”

You hear the faint rumble of Boothills laugh. “Oh, darlin’ you know me so well!”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a key to unlock a drawer where you kept your synesthetic… manhoods. You eye them all, cautiously taking one on the very left end before closing the drawer and going back up to Boothill.

“So.” You say, holding the synesthetic member awkwardly in front of Boothill. “Eight inches, pretty thick, the colour an’ design of the metal goes pretty well with your cyborg parts, I think it matches you.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Boothill grins, his sharp teeth shining under the light. “Now that's what I’m talking about. Can’t wait to have my fudgin’ shift back.”

You roll your eyes at the censorship before tapping Boothill’s knee. “Spread your legs, gotta get to you if you want me to actually put this on.”

Boothill gives you a teasing look and you already know what he’s about to comment on. “If you wanted to see my new duck in action, ya could’ve jus’ asked.” He grins and you roll your eyes again. Just what you predicted.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” You say, a harsh tone evident in your voice. This time Boothill complies, his knees spreading as you once again take your place, kneeling on the floor—this time between his legs.

Slowly, you unscrew the metal panel on Boohill’s crotch area.

Once it’s fully out, you take a peek into the hole you just opened, trying to grasp what you’re working with. You puff out your cheeks, sighing as you peer into the hole between Boothill’s legs.

There’s an assortment of jumbled wires, a few switches, and—is that a remote control? With two fingers, you manage to pry your way into the cavity in Boothill’s crotch. Lithly and carefully, you pull the remote from the little clasp it was stuck in before sliding it out.

You inspect it cautiosly, taking note of how there’s only one singular switch on the flat of it. You contemplate flipping it, but then it crosses your mind that touching random things that came from inside Boothill’s body wasn’t the best idea.

Setting the remote to the side for later, you continue your work with Boothill’s new member.

Carefully, very, very carefully, you attach each wire to the base of Boothill’s new appendage, making sure everything is kept neat and tidy. With a quick glance up at Boothill, you can instantly tell he’s at least somewhat relaxed.

“Boothill.” You call, tapping the inside of his metal thigh. “I’m gonna connect the synesthesia now, so you might get a bit…” You cough awkwardly. “Aroused… But just ignore it and try not to like—y’know, cum all over my face.”

Boothill grins down at you, once again flashing you his sharp teeth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ve got some self-control.”

You nod your head, cautiously pushing the two wires together. The instant you twist them into place, you hear Boothill let out a loud groan. “Fudge, I missed this.” He murmurs, his dick twitching to life right in front of your face.

The sight, being able to watch as the new tip of his metal cock twitches and lifts, sends a shiver down your spine—one you chose to ignore as much as possible. Your hands go back to his shaft, gently pressing a screw in and Boothill lets out a loud hiss, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Darlin’ you’re teasin’ me.” He grunts before peering down at you through half-lidded eyes.

You don’t say anything, making sure to work carefully at his dick, making sure everything is functioning. As you trail your hand along the underside of his shaft, Boothill’s thigh twitches, pushing against your head and forcing your face closer to his cock.

You let out a squeal of surprise, eyes darting up to Boothill, whose face is flushed a warm pink with his teeth pulled between his lips. “Didn’t know this would affect you this much.” You murmur, a playful edge in your voice. You hate to admit it, but you’re already half-hard from being so close to Boothill and working on him in such an… intimate way.

“Shut it, darling.’” The cyborg grunts, and you laugh at the way his hands curl into fists beside him. “Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“I can tell.” You hum, tapping his tip a few times and smirking at the loud groan that leaves his lips.

“Fudging—” Boothill grunts, his hand grabbing tightly at your shoulder as you stand up. “Such a fudgin’ tease, aren’t ya, sweetie?”

“Dunno what you're talking about Boothill.” You say, feigning innocence. Sitting up from your kneeling position you grab the remote. “Any idea what this is?” You question, showing it to Boothill.

He eyes it carefully before shrugging. “Nah, got no clue.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You huff. “Cause I found it inside you.”

Boothill gapes at you, his jaw going slack. “Inside me!?” He roars. “And you just—just took it out!? What if I need that to live?!”

“Relax, cowboy,” you groan, his loud voice getting on your nerves slightly, “it wasn’t connected to anything, and you seem pretty fine now.”

Boothill glares at you seemingly having forgotten about his rock-hard erection standing tall against his metal abs. “Give it here.” He says, making a ‘give’ motion with his fingers. He practically snatches it from your hand the instant you’re within arm's reach, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer as he grabs at the remote. “Hmm…” He hums, inspecting it in his hands. Slowly, he slides the panel down, revealing two short words that make the two of you gasp.

“Censorship… Control.” Boothill reads, and you instantly snatch the remote into your hands.

“Hey!” Boothill yells! “Wait a darn minute—I need that!”

“No,” you respond flatly, “you don’t. Whoever built in that censorship must’ve done it for a reason—”

“Yeah!” Boothill grunts. “To annoy the fudge outa me!” He growls again, desperately trying to reach for the remote again. “Oh, fudgin’ give it! What’ll it take for you to give me the darn thing?!”

You grin.

Finally, he asked.

“I think a good enough payment would be to test out this new dick of yours.”

Boothill’s expression turns from anger and annoyance to a smirk in the blink of an eye. His hands are no longer grabbing at the remote, and instead resting on your waist. “Oh?” He coos. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He smirks, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “But a test drive would be so much more fun if I had my swearin’ back. Think of all the dirty lil’ things I could say to you, hm?”

Your face flushes as you feel Boothill’s cool breath fan over your ear. “I bet you'd really like if I turned it off, be able to swear to your heart’s content” You do your best to stand your ground, ignoring the blood that rushes to your cock and the way your pants grow tight. “But I think I can think of a better way to put your mouth to use.”

Boothill growls lowly, his grip moving from your waist to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze. “Turn it off and I might just show you what this mouth of mine is capable of.”

“Hmph.” You grunt. “Fine. Let's see how dirty this mouth of yours can get, Boothill." You whisper, your warm breath fanning over his chest. With that, you’re flicking his censorship off, once again leaving Boothill free to say whatever he wants.

“Atta boy.” He growls.

Boothill’s eyes narrow as you flick the remote, effectively ending his censorship. Your face flushes, watching his lips pull into a wide grin as he grips your ass, tugging down your pants and leaving them dropped at your ankles. “Don’t worry whore, I’ll show you just how good I am.” Boothill growls, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll have you screaming my name while you’re wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You don’t say anything, only moving to press your face further into his neck.

“I’ll tell you every dirty word, every filthy thought that crosses my mind while I pound into your tight fuckin’ hole.” Boothill groans, starting to tug down your boxers too.

And suddenly, like he only now could process the extent that he could speak, Boothill is tugging you away from him only to press his lips harshly into you, murmuring into the kiss as he does. “You little slut, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re stuffed fuckin’ full of my dick. You’ll be drenched in your own cum, worshiping my cock, begging for more.” He lets out a loud groan, pulling away. “And don’t think you can fuckin’ hide, ‘cause I’ll take you right here an’ now, on your stupid workbench.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, watching the sight of your absolute arousal dripping down your dick.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ hard.” He wraps his palm around your cock, giving it a sharp tug before pulling his hand away only to return with a sharp slap against your tip. “Bet you’d pull your pants down for anyone on the street, like a common whore.”

You whine, knees buckling at the slap. You collapse onto Boothill’s chest, letting out a plethora of pathetic sounds as you do.

“Aww.” Boothill coos, lifting your chin to face him. “This weak already?”

He grips your body, getting off your workbench only to lay you on top of it. You lay flat on your tummy, with you face pressed into the thin padding of the workbench.

“You’re gonna be a good boy now, an’ take what I give you, ‘kay?” Boothil says, bending your knees to push your ass into the air. His finger teases your puckered hole, tracing your rim, but never pushing anything in,

“Boothill.” You whine. “Put it in already!”

“What’d I say?” Boothill growls, bringing down a hand against your ass in a harsh spank. “That you’re gonna take what?”

“T-Take what you give me!” You whine, pressing your face into the cushion in embarrassment.

You can’t believe what’s currently happening. Here you are, face down and your ass in the air as Boothill eases a finger into your tight hole, occasionally giving mean spanks against your balls and ass.

Eventually, Boothill presses his first finger in. The feeling makes you gasp out, your back arching against the workbench. His fingers are so thick. You whine out, instinctively rocking your hips against his fingers.

“That’s it.” Boothill praises, bringing a hand to rub your back gently. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, like a good lil’ slut.” He presses in another finger, beginning to match the pace of your hips as he curls them.

He thrusts them in and out, and in and out until you’re seeing stars. Your eyes are rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as you moan and writhe against Boothill’s hand. He curls his fingers, easily finding your prostate and laughing cruelly when your dick twitches.

“Fuck, you’re so easy.” He moans, watching you fuck against his fingers. Slowly, he grabs his new metal dick, dragging the cool tip across the crack of your ass. You whine, your eyes squeezing shut at the cold sensation.

“Boothill!” You moan out. “D-Don’t stop, I—I’m so close!”

“Oh?” He questions. “And who told you that you had any right to tell me what to do?”

Just like that, he’s pulling his fingers away from you. You’re a whining, crying mess at that. Sobbing about how you needed his fingers, his dick, his anything to make you come. “Please!” You beg. “Need t’cum so badly!”

“Really?” Boothill smirks. “If that’s really what you want…” He tugs you off the workbench, watching you fall to the floor into a pathetic heap. “Then beg me for it.”

You nod eagerly, instantly getting on your knees and kissing against Boothill’s hard cock. The rough concrete of the floor is painful against your bare knees, but you can make due.

You’re quick to take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool metal before pressing your lips slightly lower. Your tongue presses down, forced to drag along his underside the more you take him in.

You blink up at Boothill, tears welling in your eyes as you plead with him to help you. Help you. Use you. It didn’t matter.

Boothill lets out a tsk before grabbing your hair harshly. “What happened to my smart mechanic I knew so well? When’d he get replaced by this cock-hungry bitch who can’t even suck dick to save his life?”

At that, Boothill’s pressing your face all the way down. Your nose pokes at the cold metal of his pelvis before he’s pulling you back and thrusting his dick deep down your throat. He sets a quick pace, fucking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a fleshlight for him to use and throw away at his disposal.

Your jaw hangs slack, tongue forcefully dragging along the metal of his cock. Drool slips from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your mouth is being stuffed so full. Boothill’s pace quickens and you moan weakly around his cock, feeling something poke at your own.

From what you manage to see through the corner of your eye, Boothill is stepping on your dick, rubbing the sole of his dirty shoe against your tip as it leaks precum all over the rough concrete. The feeling of his shoe on your dick, his cock stuffing your mouth—it’s all enough to send you over the edge.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your cock twitching pathetically under Boothill’s shoe as you shoot ropes of cum from your tip. Some of it sticks to the bottom of his shoe, and some squirts farther. Boothill laughs, rubbing his shoe harder into your dick, watching you whine around his cock.

“C’mon slut, you can take it. This is the payment you wanted, so don’t go crying on me now.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[cherubfae]

Hi! I was wondering if you write Hazbin Hotel x Reader. And the Hazbin Hotel characters would comfort a reader who is dealing with a panic attack

𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰 || {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}

tags: fluff, gn pronouns used, implied masc!reader for Angel, implied afab reader for Vaggie, comfort, mentions of anxiety, established relationships

Alastor

Soft static crackles in his throat, neck tilting at an awkward angle. You sat on the front lobby sofa, turned away from him while covering your ears with your hands. He's never seen you like this before. "Are you alright, my dear?" When he receives no reply, his static increases. Why won't you look at him?

Kneeling in front of you, he's taken aback by your facial expression. A dreaded frown has replaced your beautiful smile, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you're absolutely trembling. What has happened? Has someone hurt you? Tell him who.

Alastor isn't quite sure what to do. He could usually say something nice to Charlie and she'd perk right up, but you aren't her. You're his darling, his sweet rose. And he hates seeing you unhappy. Lifting you into his arms, he dissolves into smoke and shadow to reappear in his tower. He places you down on the bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Clawed hands gently tug your own from your face, wiping away your tears.

"Tell me what I can do." Alastor whispers, a desperate twinge edged in his words. "I am here." He's gonna try his best to cheer you up. Playing some classical light jazz on his gramophone, humming and tapping his shoes. If you're lucky, he might even dance for you once you've calmed down.

Lucifer

Gentle hands cup your cheeks, thumbs soothing against your skin. He's breathing with you, encouraging you to follow his example. "Remember sweetheart, do the three three three rule." Lucifer whispers softly. "Tell me three objects, three sounds, and move three body parts." Your teary eyes wander his frame, touching his hands, his cheeks, and then finally his lips.

Kissing your fingertips softly, Lucifer never once ceased his gentle touches. A soft reminder that he's always close by.

Charlie

Oh, no! Oh no, no no! Okay! She knows what to do! Her Dad taught her how to do this when things felt too loud. Carefully, she cups your face making you meet her eyes. "What three objects do you see around your room, sweetie? Can you tell me?" Her voice is soft. Her warm body presses close to yours, her hand sliding down your arm to take your hand.

"Good, yes." She breathes. "Light, bed, and stuffed animals. Very good, honey." Charlie encourages gently, nuzzling your cheek with her nose. She pulls up your softest blanket around your shoulders and hugs you to her chest. When you've perked up a little, Vaggie is quick to suggest relaxation. "How about a nap, hmm?"

Vaggie

Carefully, she approached you from behind. Her hands, cold like ice, gently press to the back of your neck and begin to soothe and work any tight knots at the base of your neck and shoulders. She hums a soft tune, an old lullaby that was sung to her when she was little. It brought her comfort and she hoped its comfort would find you too.

"There you are, take it easy, love." Pressing a kiss to your temple, her hands comb through your hair. "I can run a bath, if you'd like? Might feel good." She wipes a stray tear from your eye, smiling as you squeeze her hands softly nodding. "Yeah? Alright, let's go, love."

Angel Dust

He knows that look well, he's seen it on his own face many times. Angel's first instinct is to bring you somewhere quieter and less populated. Crowds and loud noises overwhelm him when he's already feeling too emotionally overstimulated. Angel will sit with you as long as you need, holding your hand until you calm down. He'll gather whatever comforts he's able to grab, heck, he'd even ask Charlie for help if he felt really stuck and unsure of what to do.

"I didn't know what to get and so I asked Charlie, and she, well," he laughs softly. "Gave me one of everything. Chocolate, popcorn, chips, soda, juice, a face mask-- shit she really went full-out! These are luxury bath robes?!"

Husk

If there's something Husk understands it's that being a bartender you see people in all sorts of states in their lives. Happy, sad, depressed, divorced dad listening to rock music; he's seen it all.

So when you're on the verge of an anxiety attack, Husk drops everything and quickly approaches you, kneeling down to your height. His paw slips into your hand, allowing you to squeeze it, his other hand stroking your hair and pulling you to lean into his soft fluff.

"Easy there, tiger. Focus on your breathing, that's it." His deep voice rumbled against your skin. "That's it, kid. Keep on breathing for me, sweetheart." He nuzzles you gently. Husk may start purring too, as a cat's purr has been known to calm someone down.

Vox

To be honest, he's not quite sure what to do. Seeing you start to panic would probably make him panic a bit. He will approach you slowly, arms raised up almost defensively with his palms facing upwards. Is it okay for him to touch you? Yeah? "Okay, darlin', c'mere." Voxy's gotcha. Breathe in and out, in and out.

Vox will bring you to a quiet, dark room, curtains drawn shut for you to rest and recover. His display screen is the only low light provided. Tucking you in, Vox will sit curl up behind you and carefully stroke your hair. Want him to play one of those black screen meditation videos? Whale sounds? He certainly will for you. "Try to get some rest, baby. That's all that matters right now."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 6 (FINAL)

Prev.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: smut (strap-on sex anddd things that go with that)

A/n: ik ya’ll been waiting for this one. Thanku to the anon who requested this special scenario and thanku to the multiple anons who wanted this series in the first place, as well as everyone else who’s been showing shock factor some love 🩷 more fics coming soon.

SHE KISSES YOU like she’s been fantasizing about it for ages, and you can’t help but be turned on at the fact that she probably has. The thought of Paige, legs spread beneath her blanket, hand clamped over her mouth to cover her whimpers as she thinks of you while her hand toys with herself is insane. When you lay on her bed, all you can think of is how many times she must’ve thought of this.

She has a habit of dragging her thumb across your lips and looking into your eyes as if she’s scared to forget what you look like in this moment. Her bedroom is cold but your absolutely dying of heat underneath her body, her hands timidly feeling you while she presses her mouth to yours, tilting her head and letting out little noises.

You relish in how her back slightly arches when your hands meet the skin underneath her shirt, a toned, smooth surface that grows goosebumps as your fingers edge their way under her sports bra. Paige pulls away from kisses with a slowness that urges you to chase after her, but she’s always back for more before you can do so.

“Don’t rush.” She mumbles against your skin. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Horny and aching from need, you reluctantly obey. Her voice is raspy and soft, softer then you’d expected it to be. Paige occasionally pauses above you once your hands begin to kneed her breasts and pull at her nipples.

You open your mouth slightly, allowing her tongue to meet yours. She moves languidly with you, relishing the slight whimpers and noises that leave your mouth. You let your hands leave her tits and cup her face, then one hand tugs at her ponytail. Paige lets out a louder whine at this, and you can’t help but smile. “Baby likes her hair pulled? Never woulda known.” You say with arrogance that you know must feel like a slap to her ego.

“Shut up.” She seethes, her eyes narrowed and tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“You know you can cuss now,” you tilt your head. “since we’re gonna fuck.”

She’s taken aback, eyes wide for a moment as she recalls when she told you she only curses during specific situations. Her lips ghost soft kisses against your jaw before hovering above your ear. “Is that what we’re doing?”

Paige’s knee is nestled tight between your thighs, but you open your legs further as you look into her blue eyes. “How wide do I have to spread before you take the hint?”

Biting her lip, you can almost make out the minuscule “shit” that she murmurs under her breath. She’s truly soaking you in, the way you’re spread out on her bed beneath her, legs open and eyes begging.

“S’ that’s what you want, huh?” She finally says. “I can take a hint.”

Paige gets off of the bed for a moment and you immediately miss her warmth, though it’s replaced with a different feeling when she turns your back to you, and slowly takes her compression long sleeve off. Her back is flexed and muscular beneath her sports bra, which she teasingly pulls over head.

You sit up on the bed in awe, watching as she strips herself bare. You wonder how much it’s turning Paige on, having your eyes stuck on every inch of her body, her broad shoulders and toned arms are enough to make you wet.

And the strap makes your stomach drop.

She adopts a newfound confidence when it’s on her, clearly emasculated by the look on your face as you take the sight of her in.

“Sit.” You say, patting the edge of the bed. She obliges with an unsure look on her face. You slip off the bed and kneel between her legs, placing your hands on her thighs and looking up at the strap, then her face. Paige understands what you want to do.

“Are you sure?”

“Just watch me.” You smile, taking the strap in your hands and licking the tip while keeping your eyes trained on her. She’s fidgety, gripping the sheets behind her as you lick up and now the length before finally putting it in your mouth.

You’re not quite used to the sensation of the plastic in your mouth but you can assume the little make-believe blowjob is having the effect you hoped for, because Paige is biting her lip fervently now as her hands find your head.

The sight of her low eyes and shameless staring while you slowly take her length in your mouth is soaking your panties on it’s own, especially when she begins to buck her hips.

She suddenly begins to let out soft moans, her head thrown back and breathing quickening. There’s something different going on now.

You stop bobbing your head for a moment and hold the strap teasingly on your tongue, and then you can feel it. The quiet noise, the slight sensation. There’s a part of the strap that is inside of Paige and it’s vibrating.

“Don’t stop.” She mumbles, looking at you pleadingly.

“The vibrator not enough?” You tease, parting your mouth with a strap and letting a string of saliva form between your lips and the plastic.

Paige’s grip on your head tightens for a moment, and she jerks herself forward almost involuntarily, probably from the vibrations.

“C’mon baby, please.” She whines. “I needa see you take me in your mouth.”

You shake your head. “I’ll take you in a different way.”

She lays back on the bed now, and you take your time crawling on top of her. She’s absolutely flushed and in awe as you take your shirt and basketball shorts off, leaving you in your sports bra and underwear. You pull your panties to the side achingly slow, revealing to Paige how wet she’s made you.

“Fuuuck.” She mutters, bringing a hand to her face and then both to your hips. You’re hovering carefully above her, letting the tip graze your labia ever so slightly.

“Ready Paige?” You sigh, and she nods her head immediately, guiding you as gently as possible onto her strap, and enjoying every moment as your eyes screw shut and your mouth omits a noise she’s only dreamt of.

It’s slow at first, with her hands helping you bob up and down on her. The sound of your ass clapping against her skin and the slight vibration you can feel is pornographic.

“You take me so- fuck, so well.” She gasps as your pace quickens.

You’re grasping onto her core, her tits, anything you can manage. Although your legs are already beginning to burn you refuse to slow down, it feels too good. Almost as if the strap was truly a part of her. Paige’s moans and your own are filling the room, as well as the occasional slap to your ass from her calloused hands,

You collapse forward onto her, arms caging her head beneath you as your hips continue to grind. You’re face to face now, foreheads touching and breathing each others air.

“Wanted this, uhhg, s’bad Paige.” You whisper weakly to her. “Thought about you all the time. Wanted you to fuck me right there at that restaurant.”

“I would’ve gone under the table,” Paige murmurs back, hands gripping your ass now and helping you fuck yourself silly. “n’ I would’ve eaten you out. Couldn’t even pay attention to what you were saying.”

The thought is enough to drive you wild, especially since you’d had a similar idea at the time. You can imagine Paige pretending to drop something, then not coming back up until you’re writhing in your seat, panties around your ankles.

“Stop.” You cry. “If you keep talking I’m gonna cum, seriously.”

“I wanted to kiss you so bad.” She smirks against your skin, then abruptly flips you over. She’s on top of you now, your back is arched and your face is almost pressed into the sheets. She holds your hands behind you before you can use them to cushion yourself.

Paige is pumping into you now, admiring the sight of your ass pressed flush against her groin. Her hands are holding your wrists tight. “I was gunna kiss you on the street. Then maybe I woulda turned you around like this.”

You can’t even respond anymore, you’re out of breath and crying of pleasure into her bed now that a tense, building feeling is forming in your stomach.

“If Elaine didn’t call would you have let me, ma?” She moans out. “Would you have let me eat it from the back? Or would you have pussied out.”

“Paige.” You cry out against her sheets. “M’ gonna cum, oh my god.”

She doesn’t say anything else, and you know she’s getting close too. Her thrusts are growing sloppier and she’s moaning more then she’s talking, whatever words leave her mouth are impossible to understand through the exhaustion and sheer sound of sex.

You and her climax almost in unison, it’s the most relieving thing you’ve felt in a long time, both sexually and mentally. When Paige slumps down on the bed beside you, hurriedly taking the strap off and pressing her warmth to your back you know your problems with her are over.

“(Name).” She mumbles. “You good, baby?”

“Mmhm, yeah.” You huff out, smiling as she laughs. You can feel her toying with your hair.

“M’sorry.” She says quietly.

You turn around now to face her. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” She says, matter o fact. “M’sorry I was such a dick to you. sorry I lied about Elaine. M’sorry I didn’t eat you out when I had the chance.”

You chuckle at the last part, and let your hand cup her face fondly. “We’re good, P. And you can eat me out whenever you like.”

The two of you laugh together, legs entwined and eyes connected by some sort of invisible beam of comfort and affection. She’s smiling in a way you’ve only seen glimpses of, and it’s warming your soul.

“You’re leaving.” She says, laughter fading.

“What?”

“You’re leaving Storrs in a couple more days.”

You stare into her eyes for a moment. Her expression is disappointed and you know yours probably is too. You can’t be in Storrs longer then you have planned, but you want to stay.

“Come visit me.” You finally say. “Come to California n’ stay with me.”

“Now?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Whenever.” You smile. “We have the summer. I better see you.”

Paige places a soft kiss on your lips. “You will ma, trust me.”

“What’d you say on that live again?” You ask her in between kisses. “That I was boring? Had no shock factor?”

“Don’t start.” Paige rolls her eyes, poking your cheek.

“You, my girl, have enough shock factor for a lifetime.”

[mirohlayo]

https://www.tumblr.com/mirohlayo/736270231017865216/my-introvert-girl-ln4?source=share

Is it bad I wanna see avas reaction andl her showing everyone she hates reader?

okay so i didn't intend to write a part 2 for my introvert girl but many anons asked me for ava's reaction so here is it !! 🫶

MY INTROVERT GIRL | LN4 (pt2)

( lando and you are finally together, but it seems one girl still hates you no matter what )

warning : slight angst, insecurity, fluff, like a lil innuendo but that's all, soft lando

note : not gonna write a part 3 because i think it's useless, but already pretty proud of these 2 parts !!

word count : 4k

!! english not my first language !!

lando and you are dating for quite some weeks now. and everything is going wonderfully. he has never been so in love, and therefore the same for you. he loves you so much and he's never tired of showing it, you being overwhelmed by his affection.

he doesn't hesitate to show the entire world how precious you are to him, and if he has to prove it until everyone notices that you are his he will do it for eternity. and you would do the same for him without a doubt, he is your first boyfriend ever and certainly the last of your life.

your love is so intense and can be feel wherever you two go, that necessarily it does not go unnoticed. especially in the eyes of the pretty blonde who obviously feels the same feelings for lando as you. even if it's always good to remember that lando only has eyes for you and only you.

and it gets on ava's nerves. when she knew about you dating, her jealousy towards you has only increased. she saw red. she was horrified by this sudden new. she was sure lando would ends up dating her because there was no world in which he would have ended up with an introvert like you.

she finds you so bland. uninteresting. you're not comfortable with people and being shy you're not talkative. and you're always stuck on lando's side as if you were going to die if you didn't stay close to him.

and the fact that lando doesn't see anything wrong with it and isn't even a little annoyed by your behavior because he adores when his girl gets clingy. he always ends up staring at you with tenderness like you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

you here, you there. ava hates it. she detests you. if we would offer her the choice to break your couple she would do it without hesitation. and this is obviously what she intends to do. because since she sees no point in lando dating his complete opposite, such an introvert girl. no, he needs an funny and extrovert girl like ava to match him.

winter break allows the f1 drivers to relax and to rest, to spend time with their loved ones. lando was looking forward to it since it's his first winter break with you, so he wants to make the most of it to spend as much time as possible with you.

he organized many trips, one of them is a trip to vietnam. some of his closest friends will take part in the trip, including ava. normally, she wasn't supposed to come but ria had an hold up so she ended up replacing her. to her greatest happiness of course.

for your part, you weren't comfortable with going on this trip with the blonde girl. you know very well how much she hates you and that she wants to ruin your romantic relationship. you don't want to alert lando or anyone else, you don't want to create problems because it's not in your nature unlike ava. so you just decided not to say anything.

you told yourself that putting up with her presence and her stupid remarks for a week wasn't going to be that complicated. and then you'll be with your lover most of the time, so ava won't be able to speak to you much. ignoring her will be the best solution.

you arrived two days ago now, and after eating you all decided to spend the afternoon on the beach playing games like volleyball or even mini football. nothing but just activities for fun.

everyone is excited to play games, but you're not really in the mood. you're feeling a little tired and you just don't feel like having fun right now. on the one hand, your shyness also forces you to stay locked up in the hotel. you like playing games but you're afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of others. especially in front of ava.

so you inform lando about it, that you weren't coming, and he told you that he wasn't going to leave the hotel and stay with you either.

"baby it's okay, i'll stay in the hotel room. go play with the others" you say to him before slip in under the blanket. "no. if you don't go then neither do i. i’ll stay with you" he retorts, joining you in the bed.

he places himself above you, his chest on yours and his arms tightly wrap your waist. "please lando. i know how much you want to spend time with your friends so i would never refuse that to you. i don't want you to stay locked up because of me" you say to convince him.

"but that's the point, i want to stay locked up with you baby. you’re the one i want to spend time with the most. i don't really care about the others for now. if you stay here, then me too. i just want you with me” he pouts, and places his chin on your stomach.

you look down to plant your eyes in his gaze and he shows you his prettiest smile. what an adorable man. "okay fine. but i don't want you to be mad at me for that later" you warn him. "never. i would never blame you, love” he said before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.

"love you" he muffles and his breath tickles you. "i love you too lan" you says before pressing a soft kiss on his hair. you start playing with his curls, while he's here holding you close, leaving some kisses here and there on your shoulder and neck.

an hour passes like this, you two cuddling close to each other. a text from max makes lando's phone vibrate and he groans. he extends his hand lazily and grab his phone to read the text. "what he's saying ?" you ask, sounding sleepy. "if we're going to join them or not" he replies sounding the same as you.

you think for a few moments. lando was going to put his phone down on the nightstand when you finally suggest that you must go out and join the others on the beach. "are you sure? do you really want to go outside?" he asks you cautiously, his tired eyes scanning your face. "yes. i want to stretch out. your body made me sag" you tease him and he rolls his eyes letting out a laugh. “just say i'm too heavy” “no you’re perfect baby”.

he can't help but blush so hard. god it's the first time that a girl has had such an effect on him. and it seems that it flutters him even more coming from an introvert. "fine. let's go then my girl" he says and in a second you're already outside, walking hand in hand to join your friends.

“it looks like the sloths are back” pietra says, nodding towards the couple arriving on the beach. “we didn’t even sleep” lando responds defensively. “oh so you must have done dirty things then" max said playfully, giving implied glances to the two lovers.

lando can feel himself blushing really hard, just like you. “shut up you muppet. you're saying bullshit" you reply embarrassed. everyone seems amused by the situation except of course one person.

ava.

she seems to be killing you with her gaze, looking you up and down like you're the plague itself. of course lando doesn't notice, too hypnotized by the beautiful girl walking beside him. he almost falls to the ground because of you.

“well, looks like y/n finally got the guts to show herself. which is rare with her, we almost wonder if she even exists sometimes.” ava looks at you and displays a fake, hypocritical smile. no one seems to laugh at her remark and the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. you don't know where to go or how to react. you feel a little humiliated to tell the truth.

"huh, what did you say ?" lando remarks, a little confused by what the blonde just said. the girl sighs and rolls her eyes before showing her smile that you dream of making her swallow. “oh it’s okay, it was just kidding. we all know that y/n isn’t comfortable with people but i love her anyway” she finally added.

you feel like shit. she's talking like you're the worst scumbag on earth and you don't even have the strength to defend yourself. your shyness seems to be taking over. "um well. okay ava just stop talking and instead start playing. you've been losing every round since a while ago" martin says to lighten the atmosphere because everyone seemed disturbed and embarrassed by the situation.

you sigh and slowly drop lando's hand, but he holds it tightly and looks at you. “don't worry baby, i'm going to stay with you. we can relax on the deckchairs if you prefer” lando kindly offers you, he wants to make you feel comfortable.

“as you wish” you shrug your shoulders trying to hide your sadness and pain and lando smiles at you before leading you towards the deckchairs. he lays down comfortably on one and you move towards another one close to his. but he grabs your hand and makes you sit on his legs. “lie on me love” he begs you with his eyes.

you smile shyly at him and stand up. "nah. we're in public lando, i don't want to receive all the teasing from our friends" you declare before lying down on another deckchair. he pouts, disappointed not to feel your body against his. he even brings his deckchair closer to yours so he can hold your hand, or play with a few strands of your hair.

the sun is strong and the beach umbrella protects you, with of course the sunscreen that you put on before. the waves dance loudly and the laughter of your friends fills the atmosphere with joy. it's calming.

well, it was calming for a little while. ava noticed that you weren't with them playing a game of volleyball and while scanning the surroundings, she spotted you on the deckchairs, silly smiles on your races and lando being extremely touchy with you.

she hates this view. she hates you. she would like to tear off your smile and make you disappear. she already imagines herself in your place, laughing loudly with lando. you are not in your place. it's her. you don't deserve lando.

she walks briskly towards the two of you, and your faces turn towards her. the blonde smiles hypocritically and without any hesitation, she sits on the edge of your lover's deckchair. which you don't like at all. and neither does lando, since he doesn't wait a single second to gently push her with his leg.

she seems hurt and shows it openly, putting her hand to her heart to express her pain ironically. "you hurt me lando. i thought we were friends" she said in a sad tone. “we kind of are. but this place is reserved for my girlfriend only” he answers, holding your hand tighter.

you feel more reassured and you feel your heart soar at the words of your lover. he knows when to show others that it's only you who matters. this comment makes ava roll her eyes, but it's subtle enough that only you notice. she sits on another deck chair and turns to you.

“why don’t you come play with us?” she starts to start a conversation. “y/n doesn’t really want to and neither do i, so i'm staying with her.” lando says and she lets a mocking laugh come out of her mouth and you look at her surprised. “it looks like you’re babysitting her” she says, laughing.

did you hear that correctly? is she serious? you can't let this go. “what did you say?” you ask with a frown. she lets another laugh escape and it also attracts lando's attention. "you seem like you're a baby who always needs lando's attention. he looks like a babysitter because of you"

it’s lando’s turn to frown. he holds your hand a little more firmly. “what do you mean ava?” he says, he knows something is wrong. the blonde sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, glaring at y/n.

"look, she's not even capable of playing with others and having fun. she's stopping you from having good times. she's so shy and... introverted that she's ruining your holidays, even your personal space. she's always stuck to you, it seems like she doesn't know how to cope without you it's just... pathetic." she unpacks it all while looking at you with disgust.

oh you feel so humiliated now. you feel tears coming but you hold them back, crying in front of her will only make things worse. you feel so weak and worthless. you blame yourself for being so insecure, being so shy and reserved. because maybe it's the truth.

maybe lando is finally fed up with you and he hates being around you, stuck with an ordinary and shy person like you. he probably can't have the fun he wants because of your shyness. maybe it's true, you're like a child who's ruining his life.

"don't ever talk about her that way again. you really disgust me ava. you don't even measure up to her and you dare open your fucking mouth to say bullshit" lando starts to raise his voice. you can tell he looks extremely angry.

“oh because you also want to defend her?” she asks mockingly. "i defend her and will defend her no matter what happens. you don't have to talk to my girlfriend like that when she is everything you will never be" he spits his words in her face and gives her a cold look.

he jumps up and holds your hand tightly. when his gaze falls on you, it softens. “come on y/n. let’s go back to the hotel” he pulls you towards him and walks you to the hotel pushing ava out of the way. “get out. i don’t want to see you anymore.” he says his last words to her.

the blonde remains standing, alone. a strange, painful and hurtful feeling takes hold of her. the rest of the group stopped playing, observing the scene. now it's ava's turn to feel humiliated. why did she do that?

for your part, you and Lando return to your hotel room. it's silent. he opens the door and you run to take refuge in the bed, so that he joins you a few seconds later. "don't worry baby. don't listen to her, she's talking nonsense. she just wants to destroy you" lando tries to reassure you and you just nod your head.

you smile at him to reassure him in turn, although deep down you are still a little worried. you're still a little hurt. a part of you tells you that it's true, that Lando doesn't like being constantly stuck to you. you don't like it at all.

the rest of the afternoon passes quickly for your boyfriend, but slowly for you. you can't stop overthinking, thinking about ava's words. part of your brain still makes you believe that you don't deserve lando and that he will be better off with ava. it eats you from the inside. you don't like to doubt lando but ava makes you feel vulnerable and insecure.

and your boyfriend noticed it. he noticed that you had become quieter, you only spoke to him very recently. and he starts to worry about you. he suspects deep down that it's because of earlier that you seem off. so he knows exactly what to do.

he proposed, well more like forced you to watch the sunset, just the two of you, him and you on the beach. no group of friends, no ava, no games, no, just the two of you on the beach. you weren't for it at first but you love sunsets and night walks on the beach, so you finally gave up. especially if it's with lando. you walk hand in hand on the warm sand. the waves rock your ears and the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. how beautiful. you find a comfortable spot and sit down, lando still holding your hand in his.

he gently caresses it with his thumb, pressing a few random kisses on the back of your hand. he rests your head on his shoulder, and you admire the magnificent landscape in the distance. it's soothing, it's romantic.

"beautiful right?” lando murmurs against you, staring into the distance. you smile to yourself. “very beautiful” “just like you” he responds quickly and you can tell he’s grinning. you laugh softly and shake your head. “how cheesy” you blurt out and it’s his turn to let out a soft laugh.

oh his laugh.

although you still hide it, lando knows he needs to talk to you. that he must reassure you. that he has to make you sure how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you. because you're the only girl who makes it feel this good.

“y/n” he whispers your name so softly, and it warms your heart. “hmm babe?” you hum. he moves to get a little closer to you and rests his head on yours. "i know what you're thinking about since this afternoon” he begins cautiously not wanting to rush you. he knows your nature.

"w-what ?" you try to hide. but you know very well that he knows you by heart. “please don’t try to avoid the subject. you know what i'm talking about.” he ends up saying.

you sigh. you know you have to talk to him about it, it will only do you good. “yes sorry.” "don't feel sorry love. take your time". he said in such a caring way. he presses a soft kiss against your hair. and another on your cheek. he loves kissing your face so much.

you take a deep breath. you press your hand a little more against his. "it's just... it's just that i feel so insecure when ava talks about me like that. i keep telling myself that i don't deserve you, that you deserve someone who looks like you and who is not your opposite. like ava". you pause but you know he continues to be attentive and listen to you.

"i..." you continue "i keep thinking that it must bore you to stay constantly and always with me. that my shyness surely prevents you from having fun and enjoying your life to the fullest. that i'm like a drag and dating an introvert like me is a bad idea” you finish, tears soon escaping your eyes.

now he faces you. he looks at you with so much gentleness, so much affection and love. his gaze becomes sadder when he hears what is on your heart and his heart suddenly tightens at your words. he hates hearing you talk about yourself like that, devaluing you when all he loves about you is what you're insecure about.

“my baby…” he whispers and places his hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently. he wipes with his thumb a tear that has just escaped your eyes. he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and smiles affectionately at you.

"i wish you could see you through my eyes". he places another kiss on your forehead. the sun illuminates his face, the waves seem to transport you.

"i fucking love you. like fucking fucking love you. it's me who doesn’t deserve you. it's me who should hate myself for not always making you feel secure about me and our relationship" he explains. "i don't care about ava, you know that. she is absolutely nothing compared to you. it's not her or someone like her that i want. it's you. you're the only one i want and need so badly".

his hands slide to grab yours. "being constantly by your side is the best thing in the world. i don't care if we are in the worst place in the world, in the worst possible situation, as long as i am with you and by your side i know that everything will be fine. there's nowhere i'd like to be without you. it's just impossible. all i fucking want is to stay with you as long as possible."

he smiles brightly at you before finishing. "and your shyness will not change my love for you or how i live my life. i fell in love with you because of this side of you, because you are introverted and you are so much my opposite that i am extremely attracted to you. it's like that. so don't blame yourself, because i don't want you to change that even though it doesn't even bother me a little bit. i love it. i adore you. i love you and i love you. love you and i will always love you"

you sure you look like nothing now. your eyes must probably be puffy and red but that's okay. lando doesn't care too. you can't help but smile at him with all your teeth. “i love you so much lando. i love you with all my heart and that will never change” you whisper against his neck.

he places thousands of kisses on your head, caressing your back. god how much he loves you too, your love is so deep and strong. “hope it'll never change then” he adds and puts his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to his body as possible.

and without a word, in a calming silence, you stay in each other's arms until the sun sets completely. a starry sky now paints the night. you are still glued to each other, your head on your lover's stretched out legs. you admire the stars while he admires you. it's perhaps one of his favorite activities. just looking at you, like the most beautiful paintings in the world. but soon you notice that he doesn't pay attention to the sky and you point this out to him, teasing him.

“look at the sky, it's so pretty” you hum “but you're prettier” he simply retorts, telling the truth. you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh. “never tired of being cheesy” you laugh shyly. “never” he adds while smiling. but he ends up raising his head towards the sky. it is true that the stars are infinitely beautiful. they shine so much, and he can't help but describe them like that, as he describes you the same way. he runs his hand through your hair, eyes anchored to the stars.

“do you see all these stars?” he asks and you hum in response. "i would hunt them all for you if you asked me. i would bring them all to you if that's what you want. ask me to bring down the moon and i would do it without hesitation just for you" he said softly, a silly smile on his lips.

you can’t help but burst out laughing. “how romantic” you tease him but deep down you melt, feeling so confident after all those sweet words. he lowers his head to look at you, smiling fully.

he admires you for a moment, take in your features. his heart never stops beating faster at the sight of you, even after weeks of being in a relationship. and he leans down to finally kiss you, his lips capturing yours perfectly. gosh he loves kissing you so much, he might never stop. he pulls back and pecks your nose.

“love you always, my introvert girl” he smiles softly.

[neochan]

THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!

PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS |  lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.

WC | 10.8k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).

A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry

“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”

Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.

This was fucking ridiculous.

No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.

It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?

Unfathomable.

But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –

“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”

Case in point.

You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”

The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”

God Damn.

Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.

It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.

This time wasn’t any different.

Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.

“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”

“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”

Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”

Yes, please.

“No.”

A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”

“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.

“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”

For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”

Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.

“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.

“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.

What was this boy doing to you?

“Wanna help?”

“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”

He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”

I’m right here.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”

Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”

“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”

With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.

This was going to be a long night.

People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.

The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.

Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.

You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.

“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.

Needless to say, you wanted out.

So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.

“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.

“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”

The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”

Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.

Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”

Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.

The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.  

“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.

Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.

He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”

Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.

“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.

“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.

“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.

Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.

You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.

“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.

The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.

Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.

“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.

“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.

“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.

A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?

But you refrain.

It’s very hard to refrain.

You almost slip.

That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.

“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.

You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.

Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”

“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.

“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.

Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.

Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.

“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.

He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.

Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.

“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.

He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?

All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”

The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat. 

Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).

“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.

When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.

You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.

“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”

“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.

She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.

“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”

You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”

A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.

“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”

Me too.

Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Haechan didn’t shut up.

In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.

Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.

Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.

You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.

What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?

Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.

Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.

The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.

“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.

“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.

As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.

Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.

You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.

Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.

“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.

Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.

She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”

A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.

Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.

Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.

He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.

Why the fuck was he so weird?

And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?

“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.

Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).

It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?

Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.

Two girls down, about 12 of you left.

The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.

The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.

Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.

Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.

Spinning.

And spinning.

And spinning.

And stop.

“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.

Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.

“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”

“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.

It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.

So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.

“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.

It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.

“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”

In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.

Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”

The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”

“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”

“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.

I’d agree with fate then, you think.

A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.

“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.

“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.

You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”

“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”

His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.

Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.

Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?

You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.

“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“

Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.

“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.

The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.

Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.

You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”

“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”

Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.

What the fuck just happened.

And why did I ruin it.

After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.

Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.

Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.

It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.

He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.

“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”

One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.

“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”

We had a room.

“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.

“Can I kiss you?”

It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.

How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.

But this was wrong.

The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.

You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.

From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’

“Haechan.”

The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.

“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.

“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.

He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.

You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”

His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”

“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”

Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.

“Meanie.”

Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.

“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.

You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.

“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.

His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.

“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”

Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.

“It’s fine.” you mumble.

His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?

But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.

You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”

Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”

You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”

“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.

“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”

“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.

Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.

“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”

“I missed the bush?”

“The whole bush.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.

You were bored.

Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.

For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?

One last chance or you were leaving.

This was an all or nothing moment.

“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”

The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?

“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?

You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"

He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”

His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.

The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.

Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.

“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”

You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”

Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.

Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”

“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.

“Y/N… I can’t.”

Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.

Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”

Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”

It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”

Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”

“But you always say –”

“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”

Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?

To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.

“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.

“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Another challenge.

He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.

You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”

“Absolutely not.”

Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”

“…No.”

He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”

You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.

You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”

Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.

The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.

It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.

But when was he ever logical?

And when were you ever one to back down?

Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”

“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.

“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”

“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”

He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”

The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.

“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.

He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.

Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”

He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”

Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.

He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.

Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.

The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.

“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.

“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”

He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom,  “What?”

You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.

Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.

“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.

“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?

While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.

The video didn’t do him justice.

Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.

Oh, how wrong you were.

His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.

But another part wanted him in you, now.

Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.

You are no better than a man.

Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.

“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”

His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”

“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”

“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.

“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.

Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.

Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.

“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”

“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”

Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.

You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”

“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding. 

You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.

Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.

His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.

The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”

“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.

Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.

“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.

A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”

Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.

“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”

Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”

The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.

He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”

You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.

“That was what?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.

Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.

Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.

“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.  

Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.

As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).

Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.

Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.

It was actually done – or at least partially.

You smirk.

Challenge 1/3 complete.

Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.

Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.

One that you corrupted.

As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.

“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.

You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.

“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.

“Deal.”

You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.

Points for that, you think.

You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.

Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…

There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.

Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.

Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.

Your heart leaps up in your throat.

What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?

When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.

You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.

Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.

Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.

Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.

The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”

And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.

did you like it? if you did, consider leaving me a like, a reblog, a review, or some feedback in my askbox :)

A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3

TAGLIST | @newdeobi @jijihyunah @saintlyhyuck @mrkis @peachjaem00 @angelwonie @aliceinwhateverland @cabaretyun @allaboutthedongs @donutswithjaminthemiddle @bundleleeknow @sunshinedhyuck @kuingjuing @haechanalpha @thiccfullsun @jenoxygen @ishireads @greentealatte97 @aquamxrina @whymarkieyournameismark @marklexleaf @its-taeil-time @j4d @dearj43 @roohnyk @stargrll13 @hykwrld @leeluc @haechie @xuxisins @rainyjeno

the rest of the tags are in the comments (if you requested to be tagged but aren't, please check the visibility of your blog)

[skiiyoomin]

ღThe aftermath of sending them horny memes part 2

ʚContent: SMUT CONTENT, swearing, reader has female parts, degradation in Taehyuns part, use of "slut", i was feeling dirtyyy with taes part, tittyjob

⤑Back to navigation⤑The SMAU, Part 1

Taehyun

The sound of skin slapping on skin resonated around the room, soft grunts and moans accompanying the sounds.

Taehyun currently had you face down with your ass up while he slammed his thick cock into your poor abused cunt.

"You´re so- fuck- so fucking greedy huh? Can´t go a single day without stuffing you full"

His dirty words made you moan and clench your plush walls, something that didn´t go unnoticed by him.

"You like that you dirty slut?" The way he was ramming his fat tip into your g-spot over and over again took away your ability to speak, a loud moan being the only answer you could muster.

He planted his foot on the bed and grabbed your hips, giving him more speed to pound into you. One hand slid up from your hips and to the back of your head, bunching your hair in his palm and forcing your head back. "You love going dumb on my cock dont you?"

"Mmmgh- mmh y-yeah" You managed to muster, though your jaw fell slack immediately after. His merciless pounding had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching.

"Mngh, Tae m´ gonna cum" You warned, though your voice was muffled by the pillows. He didn´t need warning though, he could tell just by the constant clenching and unclenching of your walls around him.

"Cum with me" With that, you both came in unison, your moans mixed with his loud grunts filling the air. His hot seed coated your walls white, and when he pulled out, thick droplets slid out of your hole and down your thighs.

He was quick to thrust back in. "Can´t have my cum going to waste now can we?"

Hueningkai

He watche with wide eyes as you swiftly removed your bra, your tits bouncing free from their restraints. It was a sight that made him moan no matter how many times he saw it. He tried to engrave in his mind the curve of your breasts and the hardness of your nipples as the cold air hit the supple flesh.

While patience wasn´t something he normally lacked, he didn´t feel as much impatience as he did now. When you were unbuckling his felt and undoing the button of his jeans. Why were your hands so slow? At last, the freeing sensation of his cock springing free pulled yet another moan from him.

"Y/n baby please, i need to feel your tits, please" He begged, and in your eyes he looked far too cute. His long figure was slouched on the couch, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glazed over with lust and desire. He looked like a mess and you hadn´t even touched him yet.

You grin and lean forward, but his hands were faster. He cupped your tits and slid his aching member between them. But before he could begin getting himself off, you moved his hands away and replaced them with your own.

Your movements started off slow, your perky tits sliding up and down his cock. Seeing the desperation in his face, you felt pity for him, so with pressing your tits harder on his cock, your movements sped up.

He tried to force his eyes to stay on the heavenly sight of your tits engulfing his cock, the leaking tip peaking out from your cleavage. Yet, he couldn´t resist throwing his head back with a loud whiny moan when you squeezed them impossibly harder. The pressure of the soft skin on his rock hard cock felt like a drug.

"Baby- mmm- oh fuck just like that"

His breathing picked up, his breathy moans rising in pitch when he felt his balls tighten, signaling an orgasm. You knew it was coming too when you felt his cock twitch consistently until, with one last hard squeeze, spurts of white cum painted your chest and breasts.

He felt hazy from the high of the pleasure, the sight of his cum dripping down your cleavage only making the moment a million times better. He leaned forward and cupped the flesh, pressing kisses to the skin and smearing his cum.

"Love your tits so much baby, thank you"

[reysdriver]

Breeding | R.B.

Day 4 of Kinktober: Breeding Kink — husband!regulus x wife!reader

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, breeding kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, some light angst and fluff in certain parts

words: 0.7k

a/n: this is one day late, but i'll post 2 oneshots tomorrow after my last midterm test I promise

Regulus’ face was buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into you. His forehead was sweaty, but so were you, and you loved the sight of your husband’s dark curls sticking to his skin so you couldn’t care less about sweat. Honestly, all you could think about was how perfect he felt inside you. 

“You feel so good, Reg. So perfect.” You told him honestly. 

He let out a low moan before responding. “Not as perfect as you, my love. You make me feel so good. I’m gonna explode soon and fill you up just how you like.” 

You did love it when he came inside of you, but there was a sneaking suspicion in your mind that Regulus liked it more than you. Ever since you got married a few weeks ago, he had been obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you in hopes of getting you pregnant. 

“I need it so badly.” You practically whined. 

He kept moving, hitting all of the right spots inside of you. He was letting out a series of heavy breaths and soft cusses right next to your ear, and it only increased your pleasure with every sound. 

“Are you sure you want it? You like it when I try to give you a baby?” 

Regulus got insecure sometimes; he always has. It’s been about a number of things, but no matter what it was, you tried your absolute best to help bring back his confidence and feel better about whatever he was upset about. This instance was no different than any other time, other than the fact that you were naked and in the middle of fucking. 

“I love it, honey, I really do. I want your baby so bad, then as many more as you’ll let me have.”

You were totally honest with him, even if you seemed like you were overcompensating for the sake of his comfort. You loved Regulus more than anyone in the world, that’s why you married him; there was no reason you wouldn’t want him to be the father of your kids. 

“I love you so much.” He told you as if he was reading your mind. 

“I love you too.” You promised. “You’re the best thing in my life, Reg— Oh, fuck!” Your train of thought was interrupted when Regulus sped up the pace and increased the force of his hips, plus adding a hand to your .

“You like that, my love?” 

You felt like you could only mumble words as an answer. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m getting close. Keep going.”

“So am I. I’m gonna fill you up and make sure you get pregnant for real this time.”

“Please, Reg. I really do need it.”

Just as you asked, Regulus kept up the rhythm of his thrusts so you could both finish together. He was hitting that perfect spot inside you, the spot that had you leaving scratches on your husband’s back and gripping the sheets with your other hand until your knuckles turned white. 

With a loud groan, Regulus released inside of you, but kept moving the way he was before as best as he could to help you along. After a few seconds, you reached your climax as well, and let Regulus know by letting out a moan and running your hand along his back far harder than you were before. 

You both took a moment to cool down, with Regulus laying on top of you, resting until your vitals went back to normal. Once his heart rate was back down, he pressed a sincere kiss to the part of your neck where his forehead had just been tucked, then he straightened his body and pulled out of you slowly. 

When moving out of you, he replaced his cock with his two fingers, eliciting a sharp breath from you as you jerked your head up to look at him between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, my love. I just want to make sure nothing spills out this time. We have to let this one be for real.”

You crashed your head back against the pillow. “This is gonna be the one that takes, I have a really good feeling about it.” You told Regulus. “You’ll be such a good dad, Reg.”

He tried to hide his face between your legs, but the grin was unmissable. “And you’re going to be a great mom.”

[yandereforme]

Yan Batfam x Singer! Single mom! Martha lookalike! Reader

( I know it’s a lot but they are all important to the plot)

Part 1:Beginnings and first encounters

You are Bruce’s bio daughter. Your mom, who didn’t know who the father of her kid was, gave you up to your aunt to be raised by them, but you didn’t know until your adoptive parent’s funeral that you weren’t their biological daughter. You had twins recently with a shitty ex of yours who you broke up with not long before the funeral after he tried to hurt your daughter for crying.

After the funeral, where you learn that your bio mom wasn’t sure who your bio dad was, but that she knew he lived in Gotham, you decide to move to Gotham. In part due to your biological father, in part due to avoiding your ex(who had refused to be listed on the birth certificate since you gave birth during a break in your relationship), and in part due to the basically free house your bio mom had owned in Gotham. So, you moved with the twins to an abandoned, slightly dilapidated house just outside of Crime Alley, and got yourself to work.

You got a job at the Ice berg Lounge, in part due to there being an opening, and in part due to you helping two women who worked there who apparently worked right under Mr. Cobblepot?

You quickly got a reputation as a singer with a knack for knowing just what song fit a customer. It was a bit of a game between you and the other workers, where they would point out a person and you would sing a song based on their vibes. You always managed your hit home with your songs, leading to you becoming one of the most popular performers at the Iceberg Lounge.

That’s what leads to Red Hood coming in one night. He had heard about you from a few of his men, and wanted to know what all the hype was about.(This take place after the Red Hood arc, where he has already been established as a crime boss and the Batfamily know his identity, but he hasn’t made up with any of them)

Cobblepot asked you to sing a song for Red, and pointed him out to you. You knew who he was, you were just outside his area, and honestly you kind of liked what he was doing for the community, so you were willing to preform, even offering to sing two songs about him(something you had only done a few times with regulars who you really liked.

Jason accepted. You started off with You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. You didn’t usually do a lot of rock songs, but that song resonated with you when you looked at him.(Jason loved the song. It was angry but fighting music, and your voice was really good. He understood why so many of his men praised your music(he just couldn’t understand why you looked so familiar))

The next song was different. You didn’t usually sing two songs, and the few times you did, people tended to vary reactions, from shock to anger to accidentally setting off a break down. But you had promised. You just hoped Red Hood wouldn’t hate you for the next song(you didn’t understand why it felt so right to sing the next song, when it didn’t seem like a Red Hood song, but you didn’t want to question it now.)

Then, you sang Good for you by Olivia Rodrigo, and everyone froze. (Jason didn’t know how you knew this anger of his. How did you know how he felt about Bruce replacing him? How did you know?) No one understood the song, especially when the recipient was a murderous crime boss, but they didn’t interrupt.

After you finished the song, you looked at Red Hood. He was sitting ramrod straight. You couldn’t see his face, but his posture was very tense. Slowly, he stood up, and walked to the stage. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t for him to drop $200 in your tip jar, and leave without a word.(Jason’s head was spinning. The green wasn’t invading, but it surrounded the edges of his vision. He needed to leave. He had to come back again, probably as a civilian, but for now, he needed to leave.)

After that, you got even more visitors, and a raise in your salary. You even made a new friend, Jason, and you were even starting to consider sending your kids to daycare instead of a baby sitter(you wouldn’t do that. You liked your arrangement with the street kids, where you would pay them in food and cash to watch your kids during the day. You liked taking care of them, but they needed to feel like they were doing stuff for you, so you didn’t make a fuss.)

Then, the Joker got out of Arkham.

Edit: I hope you guys enjoy this. This will probably be a series. I’ve had this idea for ages but never got around to it before now. This isn’t related to my Bruce or Jason series, which I will do, but I just wanted to finally put the on here. Please comment any suggestions for the kids names, or what you want to see next!

[evilwizard]

I do want to say, my views on AI “art” have changed somewhat. It was wrong of me to claim that it’s not wrong to use it in shitposts… there definitely is some degree of something problematic there.

Personally I feel like it’s one of those problems that’s best solved via lawmaking—specifically, AI generations shouldn’t be copywrite-able, and AI companies should be fined for art theft and “plagiarism”… even though it’s not directly plagiarism in the current legal sense. We definitely need ethical philosophers and lawmakers to spend some time defining exactly what is going on here.

But for civilians, using AI art is bad in the same nebulous sense that buying clothes from H&M or ordering stuff on Amazon is bad… it’s a very spread out, far away kind of badness, which makes it hard to quantify. And there’s no denying that in certain contexts, when applied in certain ways (with actual editing and artistic skill), AI can be a really interesting tool for artists and writers. Which again runs into the copywrite-ability thing. How much distance must be placed between the artist and the AI-generated inspiration in order to allow the artist to say “this work is fully mine?”

I can’t claim to know the answers to these issues. But I will say two things:

Ignoring AI shit isn’t going to make it go away. Our tumblr philosophy is wildly unpopular in the real world and most other places on the internet, and those who do start using AI are unfortunately gonna have a big leg up on those who don’t, especially as it gets better and better at avoiding human detection.

Treating AI as a fundamental, ontological evil is going to prevent us from having these deep conversations which are necessary for us—as a part of society—to figure out the ways to censure AI that are actually helpful to artists. We need strong unions making permanent deals now, we need laws in place that regulate AI use and the replacement of humans, and we need to get this technology out of the hands of huge megacorporations who want nothing more than to profit off our suffering.

I’ve seen the research. I knew AI was going to big years ago, and right now I know that it’s just going to get bigger. Nearly every job is in danger. We need to interact with this issue—sooner rather than later—or we risk losing all of our futures. And unfortunately, just as with many other things under capitalism, for the time being I think we have to allow some concessions. The issue is not 100% black or white. Certainly a dark, stormy grey of some sort.

But please don’t attack middle-aged cat-owners playing around with AI filters. Start a dialogue about the spectrum of morality present in every use of AI—from the good (recognizing cancer cells years in advance, finding awesome new metamaterials) to the bad (megacorporations replacing workers and stealing from artists) to the kinda ambiguous (shitposts, app filter that makes your dog look like a 16th century British royal for some reason).

And if you disagree with me, please don’t be hateful about it. I fully recognize that my current views might be wrong. I’m not a paragon of moral philosophy or anything. I’m just doing my best to live my life in a way that improves the world instead of detracting from it. That’s all any of us can do, in my opinion.

[ashrodisiac]

"How many likes do you think this will get you?"

Scaramouche x Reader

 ♡ SMUT

 ♡ NOT PROOFREAD

ASHRODISIAC'S NOTE:

I have 3 quizzes tomorrow😭😭😭

But... theres always time for smut, right?

--

You post a photo of Scaramouche without a shirt and get the idea of slowly stripping him from a piece of his clothing each post, the amount of likes needed for the next tl be removed gradually increasing.

But... I guess he got a bit tired of it.

--

"A thousand likes?"

Scaramouche stared at your screen with a look of disgust, his brows furrowed as he watched comments burst in. "A thousand likes." You said, confirming what he was seeing, and continued: "On a photo of you without a shirt."

(anonymous): BARK BARK BARK

(cvm.slvt): PANTS NEXT 🙏

An idea bubbled up, and you turned with a devious but somehow innocent smile.

"Hey..." you said. He looked at you with a bored expression, seemingly unknowing to your plan. "What."

--

Scaramouche quickly put his clothes back on, all the while staring at the ground and muttering inconherent cuss words.

"Ten thousand likes, and his underwear's next... "

You wrote in your caption, below the photo you snapped... of Scaramouche.

Then, after thinking for a bit, you replaced the "ten thousand" with "twenty thousand", then changed it back. "How many likes do you think this is worth?" You asked. Scaramouche huffed, "don't know, don't give a shit. And I won't be doing this again, got it?"

You smirked, then replaced the "ten thousand" with "fifty thousand".

"Alright, then."

--

"Oh, shit..."

(hornyassshit): (reader's user) WHERE THE FUCK IS IT

You looked at the bustling amount of likes coming in every second, and how it was going well over what the desired amount was.

(Thelittlebitch): WE NEED MORE

"A hundred... fucking... thousand..."

(uwuuwuii): WHERE IS THE NEXT PART

"shit, shit, shit! What am I gonna do!?"

You muted the notifications, then sighed, clutching your phone. Then, switching your app to Discord, you rang a call to Scaramouche...

He answered the call before the ringing even started.

"The fuck you want now?" He was laying on his couch, his raven hair spread over his pillow.

"So... remember the last photo we took?"

He stared at the camera with irritation. "Don't tell me."

You smiled nervously, and was surprised by his sudden reply:

"Fine. Come over."

--

"How many likes do you think this will get you?

All you wanted was a photo from him, now you were in this position...

His palm against your spine, your back arching at an impossible angle, you barely heard what he had said at the absurd noise of skin slapping and your whines. "Looks like the viewers like it, and so do you, bitch." He chuckled, bringing the phone on the sheets closer to you, resting it on a pillow so you could see your own fucked out face in the camera. He had started streaming on your account.

"How many likes would it get you if I managed to get you pregnant?" He said in a mocking tone, his fingers trailing up your nape. You bit the fabric of his pillow, which smelled like his cologne, tears forming in your eyes. "Fucking slut for likers, are you?"

Notifications screamed from your phone, but the only thought settling in your empty mind was how good Scaramouche was fucking you, how good it felt...

"Cumming!" You yelped, the pillow you were burying your head in now soaked with tears and saliva.

"Fuck, so am I... Should I cum in or out?" Scaramouche asked, pressing his lips against your neck, panting slightly. Before you could answer, the comments did it for you...

(anonymous): IN

...fuck you, anonymous.

"In, it is, then."

Throwing your head back with a sob, your hips buckling, you felt him release. Your moans faltered as he pulled out, and you were left breathless. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and a notification rang on your phone.

(Thelittlebitch): round two plz

"oh, looks like your viewers really want a round two."

That user really was a little bitch, huh?

[allmoshnobrain]

kinktober 2024 masterlist | day two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x reader | gun play

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, +18, mxf sex, gun play, early seasons dean

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wanted to become a hunter. You really did.

It was hard not to want it, not after some freak disease tore through your town, turning your family and friends into monsters, leaving you the only one standing. Not after everything you knew in your life just crumbled, replaced by fear, anger and hatred — the need to get revenge, to make whoever caused all this hurt pay, or at least stop them from existing in the most painful way possible.

You wanted to become a hunter.

But damn, it was harder than you ever thought it’d be.

Putting all the emotional stuff aside, trying to get fit and strong wasn’t exactly on your radar back then. But when life flips on you, you’ve got to roll with it. Different situations, different game plans. You’d do whatever it took to get strong enough to take down as many monsters as possible, as fast as you could.

The Winchesters had your back from the moment they met you. After pulling you out of the mess you’d been through, they took you to Bobby’s place while you tried to piece your life back together. When you told them you wanted to be a hunter, Sam was the first to try and talk you out of it. But Dean — Dean got it. He knew exactly what that fire burning in your chest felt like. He knew there was no way you’d walk away from chasing your revenge.

And that’s how Dean ended up teaching you the basics. While Sam and Bobby were out of town chasing a lead on a new case, you and Dean spent whatever time you could practicing — shooting, self-defense, throwing punches, sure, but also learning about the different creatures out there, their weak spots, and how to take them down.

You were great at the book stuff. The physical part? Not so much.

“You still got a lot to learn,” Dean said, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. He’d been trying to teach you some self-defense skills for the past hour, but you hadn’t really made much progress. “You can’t go hunting if you can’t even defend yourself.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, frowning, feeling just as frustrated. “I’m not you, okay? I haven’t been doing this my whole life!”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you a look like he was trying to figure you out. “Maybe we should just take a break. You’ll probably do better tomorrow,” he suggested, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You ended up going back upstairs to the guest room you were crashing in, grabbing some clothes, and heading to the bathroom. Maybe a warm bath would help loosen up your sore muscles from all the intense training you’d been doing for the past few weeks.

You knew Dean was probably waiting for you to come back down eventually to study more about the creatures you’d be up against — or, realistically, he’d spend hours bragging about his past hunts as a way to teach you the ropes — but you just weren’t feeling it. The frustration from your slow progress was really starting to get to you. You wondered if he’d even bother to come looking for you if you stayed in your room until morning.

Unfortunately, you got your answer pretty quick — right after you got back from your shower, hair still damp, muscles still kinda sore. The second you opened the door to your room, someone grabbed your wrist, their grip way stronger than yours. You yelped, heart pounding with shock and fear, and you were just about to yell for Dean, thinking something broke into the house, when you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into your back.

“Surprise, honey,” Dean said, and you struggled in his grip, trying to shake loose from his hold on your wrist.

“Dean, what the hell?” you yelled, and he grunted when you tried to stomp on his foot, just pulling you in closer, his chest pressed against your back while his gun dug into your lower back.

“Gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart. Come on, you got this,” he mumbled, his breath warm against your neck. You took your shot and elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a low grunt, his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to break free. You turned to face him, breathing hard, your face burning with anger.

“What the fuck, Dean?” you snapped. He had the nerve to smile, like scaring you half to death was just some kind of joke. You glanced at the gun in his hands and then back at his face, your frown deepening. “Is that shit loaded?”

“Of course it isn’t loaded,” he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the bullet cartridge to prove it. You huffed, shooting him a death glare for that stupid grin. “Come on, sweets. I just wanted to see how you’d handle some pressure. Gotta say, it was way more entertaining than our regular training.”

“That’s not funny, Dean,” you shot back, and he just laughed.

“Funny or not, you still got me to let you go, didn’t you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes, feeling some of your anger slip away, but not all of it. Your heart skipped a beat when he stepped in closer, using the gun to lift your chin. “You think too much. You gotta go with your gut a bit more.”

You looked up at him, your breath hitching and your cheeks warming, not missing that little smirk on his lips as he stared down at you, tension bubbling in your stomach like a wave. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear:

“You’re not gonna make it as a hunter if you freeze up like prey every time you see a gun, honey.”

You grunted, trying to snatch the gun from him in one quick move, but he was quicker. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you against the wall, putting his knee between your legs and trapping you with his body.

“You scared of this?” he asked, glancing at the gun in his hand. You didn’t reply, just shot him a glare filled with anger. He scoffed. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“Thought you were having enough fun yapping away by yourself,” you muttered. “Can you let me go? Please?”

He chuckled softly but finally pulled back. You let out a sigh, rubbing your wrist where he had grabbed you. It was a bit sore, and oh, how you wished you could make him pay for it.

“You're such a jerk,” you growled, and he raised an eyebrow. Oh, you caught on. He's getting annoyed.

“I was just trying to help you, dumbass,” he said, pressing the cold metal of the gun against your cheek. “That pretty face of yours isn’t gonna get you far when you’re up against someone with a gun.”

“I thought we were killing monsters,” you shot back, and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play dumb. Some monsters know how to use guns if they have to,” he said, his gun sliding from your cheek down to your neck, then your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath when it traced the edge of your shirt, pulling it down a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up, your nipples stiff against the fabric of your shirt, a reminder that you weren’t wearing a bra. “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and I might just think you’re into this.”

“Cut it out, Dean,” you breathed, your face going red. He laughed softly, stepping closer.

“You know, maybe I deserve a little reward for being such a great teacher, don’t you think?” he whispered, slowly. “How about you take your shirt off for me?”

“Oh, so you have to hold people at gunpoint to get them to strip for you?” you shot back, a sharp smirk on your lips.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, and then his mouth was on yours, lips rough and demanding as his tongue tasted your mouth. You grabbed the front of his shirt, a mix of annoyance and desire washing over you as he pressed his body into yours. “Wait, let me just stash this,” he said, looking for a place to put his gun, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your face heating up. He blinked, eyebrows shooting up as he pulled back a bit.

“Oh, so you’re a little freaky, huh?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” you growled before pulling him in for another kiss. He grunted against your lips, his free hand tugging off your shirt. You yelped when he spun you around, shoving you toward the bed like it was no big deal. No wonder you were struggling with self-defense against someone this strong.

“Maybe you’re finding our training tough 'cause you kinda like being held like this, huh?” Dean grunted, his voice low as he bent you over the bed, your cheek pressing into the mattress. “Wrists,” he ordered, and you quickly put your hands behind your back. He chuckled, clearly surprised at how obedient you were, his big hand locking onto both your wrists with a solid grip.

You bit your lip as he set the gun down on the bed right in front of you, then used his free hand to slide your pants and panties down to your ankles. You shivered, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his fingertips circled your wetness. He let out a low hum and pushed a couple of fingers inside slowly.

“Dean,” you gasped. He grabbed his gun again, the cold metal gliding along your spine.

“Be good now,” he whispered, and you let out a whimper as he pressed the flat top of the barrel against your pussy, rubbing the cold steel against your clit. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need, huh? Just a little release? I can help with that.”

“Please,” you moaned, closing your eyes, and he chuckled softly, pushing his gun harder against your wetness. You gasped as tension started to build in your belly, your legs shaking a bit. “Dean, I—”

“Shush, honey,” he whispered, moving the gun gently. “Just let go, beautiful.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you whined, and he laughed. You moved your hips in slow circles, chasing that friction as tears threatened to spill, trying to catch your breath while Dean's teasing motions tightened the knot in your belly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my gun, huh?” he murmured, absentmindedly. You choked out a moan in reply, and he laughed. “Wow, you’re a fucked-up one, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one with a gun against my cunt,” you whined, and he snorted.

“You’re the one who asked for it,” he said softly, and you bit your lip, moaning as he pressed the cold steel against your entrance. “Damn… You’re so wet, I bet it’d slide right in.”

“Oh,” you moaned, your body reacting to his words, walls clenching around nothing as you got closer to your orgasm. “Dean…”

“Hmm, cum for me, beautiful, come on,” he whispered, his hand leaving your wrists to tangle in your hair while the other pressed the gun against your clit again. “You got this, come on.”

You moaned again, the cold, hard surface rubbing against your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Tears were about to spill from your eyes as your walls clenched — softly at first, then harder and harder — until you let out a choked moan, your peak making your body shake in Dean’s grip.

“Dean,” you whined, practically begging, a sob slipping out as your whole body trembled. He let out a soft hum, whispering sweet nothings as he helped you ride out your orgasm: how you were so, so good, coming all over his hand like this.

He let go of your hair soon after, pulling back as you tried to catch your breath. You shifted on the bed, lying on your back, eyes all hazy as you looked at Dean, who was wiping your juices off his gun with your shirt. You let out a small, breathy moan at the sight, and he looked up at you, pupils dilated and face flushed, a clear bulge in his denim pants.

“Don’t you dare move,” he said softly, setting his gun on the bedside table before unbuckling his belt. You felt your swollen pussy clench when he smirked mischievously,  his eyes never leaving yours as he crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

Participate in the kinktober writing list with my FREE SPACE dynamic. There are some free spaces for specific pairings and you can shoot me asks with suggestions for kinks and plots featuring them. I will choose one for each character featured to write! Free spaces available: Sam Winchester (SPN), Jason Newsted (Metallica), Cap. John Price (COD), Kakashi Hatake (Naruto), Cronos (Venom)