#i feel really fucking weak for some reason. thought it would go away when i relaxed a bit but it didnt

[millers-angel]

workshop mechanic!joel x female reader

summary: joel is fixing up your car and you have no payment method other than letting him fuck you. warnings: age gap, mean joel, dubcon (not really but just in case), possesive joel, smut, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

he was all greasy, finishing the job on your truck, you've been here all day, just... staring and getting on his nerves, like you always do.

but now his back is all sweaty and you can see it through his shirt. his hair was messy, strands sticking to his forehead, stubborn curls that drives you crazy, and his hands were covered in oil, but you love to see them working, the way his thick fingers hold tools, the way he makes it look so easy, the way his forearms are smudged by grease too.

he wiped his brow with the back of his wrist, leaving a dark stain above his eyebrow, but it didn't seem to bother him—or you. not that you complain of this view, if anything, he looked even better, hotter like that—rough.

you leaned against the door of the truck, trying not to stare, but failing miserably. the truck had been acting up for weeks, and you needed it fixed desperately.

joel grunted, dropping a wrench on the ground, making a sound that made you wince. "damn thing's tighter than i thought," he muttered, wiping his hands on an old rag.

then, without warning, he crouched down and slid under the truck, his legs sticking out as he twisted to reach something underneath. his shirt rolled up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his tummy, sweaty and hairy... a soft little belly, not flat but firm, surely he spend most of the time here, working hard.

greyish hair scattered across his skin, a messy trail leading down. your eyes followed it before you could stop yourself, your cheeks flushed when you realized where it led but heat rised up between your legs.

you bit your lip, looking away before he caught you staring.

you could hear him cursing under his breath, low and rough, voice muffled by the truck. for some reason, it sent shivers to your core, the way he gets upset so easily, the way he curses, the way he grunts.

you swallowed, feeling a heat in your cheeks. you shouldn't be thinking about him like this—especially not when you still didn't know how you were gonna pay him, you should be thinking about how to pay him, he's gonna get upset to you when you tell him he worked so hard just to wait a bit for the payment, since you don't have the money yet.

but the sight of him all dirty and sweaty, working so hard just for you... it did things to your core.

he finally slid out from under the truck, lying flat on his back for a moment, catching his breath, panting. his chest rose and fell, soaked in sweat. he turned his head, looking up at you with that intense stare that made your knees go weak, it isn't the first time he makes you feel like this, it isn't the first time he fixed your truck, but it's the first time you have no money to pay him.

he stood up, groaning. he slammed the hood shut, wiping his hands on a dirty rag before tossing it aside. "should be good now. damn thing was clogged up pretty bad."

you took a deep breath. "thanks, joel... i really needed that fixed."

he turned to you, leaning against the truck, his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging. "you're gonna have to pay me for this, you know," he said, voice low and teasing. "ain't a charity."

your heart sank. that was the question you'd been dreading. you shifted on your feet, looking down, feeling your cheeks warm. "i know... i just don't really have the money right now..." you felt stupid saying it out loud, knowing how it sounded.

he wiped his hands again, grease staining his skin and huffed, you knew it, he would get upset with all the right reasons. but you couldn't do it other way, you need the truck. "you don't have money? what's that supposed to mean?"

"i'll pay you, i promise. i need the truck to make some deliveries and when i get paid—"

he interrupted you by laughing with no trace of humor behind it. "you gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

you blinked. "i can also ask my dad for money, i—"

he huffed. "what? you're gonna call your daddy?" he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "the same man who wastes his shitty salary on beer and booze? yeah, good luck with that."

you sighed, looking down. "i'm sorry, joel, but i needed the truck. i will pay you, i swear." your voice too soft and vulnerable for his liking.

his eyes flicked over you before he could stop himself, trailing down your bare legs, those tiny shorts hugging your hips tightly, that little top shaping your curves. he'd seen you before, always messing around, always so damn confident. at the bar, laughing and flirting, always sure of yourself.

but he's never seen you like now. eyes down, voice soft, almost shy. he wasn't used to seeing you like this—vulnerable. damn. you looked so small, so sweet, standing there all nervous. it did something to him, made him wanna close the distance between you. made him wonder what other sides of you he hadn't seen yet.

made him think of other ways you could pay him back... ways that had nothing to do with money.

"we'll figure somethin' out." his voice was rough, deep, and the way he looked at you... it felt like he already had an idea of how you were gonna pay him back.

and, judging by the way your heart raced, you weren't exactly opposed to it.

"what do you mean?" you whispered.

"get on your knees."

you nibbled your lip. "are you being for real?"

"do i look like joking?" his gaze still dark.

you gulped, just looking at him through your lashes.

"come on, sweetheart," he says, his voice dropping to a low growl. "don't make me ask twice."

you kneel as he asked, not leaving his gaze for one second—which drove him crazy. he cupped your jaw, tightening his grip just enough to make you open your mouth.

"now, you're gonna pay me." he drawled. "you're gonna suck on my cock and then i'm gonna fuck you on your truck. understood?"

you gulped and nodded.

you wouldn’t oppose. joel had been on your mind for a while now—always busy, always smudgy, always sweaty. and some nights… you’d see him at the bar, a cigarette between his fingers, whiskey in the other hand. alone. always alone.

there was something about him that pulled you in, something quiet. he never said much, never let anyone too close, and maybe that was what made you want him even more. the mystery, the roughness. but now, he wants you to suck him off, just like that.

"do you do this to every woman in the town? huh?" you licked your lips as you started unbuckling his belt.

he chuckled. "nah," he murmured, eyes dark with amusement. "only the ones that beg real pretty."

you unzipped his jeans. "i haven't begged you."

"you will."

a shiver ran down your spine, his words sinking deep, settling low in your stomach. it was a slow, burning kind of heat, something that spread through your chest, down your legs, curling at your core like the sweetest kind of ache.

you were about to pull down his jeans but then looked over him. "what if someone sees, joel?"

you sat on your knees, looking up to him. "you know this is a small town, the gossips—"

he leaned just a bit to pat your cheeks. "then i bet all they're gonna talk about is how pretty you look sucking cock."

you feel your cheeks getting warmer. joel grins as he watches you blush, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. he runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle yet possessive.

"you're so damn cute when you're shy," he says, his voice low. "but don't worry, i'll keep you all to myself."

he steps even closer, towering over you, his jeans now unbuttoned and halfway down his thighs. your eyes widened when you spotted how bulky he was... and you're sure he wasn't even full hard.

you toyed the waistband of his boxers, eager to what you're about to find.

and it was just as you imagined. you parted your lips just a little. his hand immediately stroked his length. "don't tell me you've never seen one before."

you raised your gaze. "i have," then it drifted back to his cock. "but never this big."

he steps even closer, his hand moving faster as he grips your hair and pulls your head towards his crotch.

"open your mouth," he says, his voice a growl. "and suck it like the good girl you are."

joel watches as you obey, his eyes dark with lust as you take him into your mouth. he lets out a guttural moan, his fingers tightening in your hair as he feels your tongue against him.

"that's it, just like that," he gasps, his hips rocking forward slightly.

joel's eyes flutter shut again as he focuses on the feeling of your lips wrapped around him. he lets out a low moan as he feels your plump, soft lips wrapped around his cock. they feel so good on him. he could spend hours just watching you suck him off. you took him so well, your hands cupped his sack, toyed his balls, make him feel in heaven.

joel's breath hitches again as you toy with his balls, his hips bucking slightly into your mouth. he lets out a low curse, his fingers digging into your hair even more as he tries to control himself.

"fuck, you're gonna make me come," he groans. "keep going, sweetheart. don't stop."

joel's hips start to thrust of their own accord, his body moving with a mind of its own as he loses himself in the sensation of your mouth on him.

joel's eyes lock onto yours as he watches your eyes tear up, of course, he was too much for you, but even so, you didn't want to stop. he can see the way you're struggling to take him all the way down your throat.

"look at you," he mutters. "you look so beautiful like this. tears in your eyes, my cock in your mouth."

he can feel his balls tightening, his release building up inside him.

but before he could come, he pulls you up from the floor, barely giving you time to react when his hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly. he turns you around and pushes you against the passenger seat of your truck, trapping you between the door and his body.

joel's eyes trails over your body as he pins you against the truck, his hands running down your sides and to the waistband of your shorts. he grips the fabric and yanks it down, his fingers digging into your thighs as he exposes more of you to him.

"damn," he muttered. "you're even more beautiful like this."

joel's eyes widen as he looks at your exposed body, his gaze fixated on your ass and your slit. he lets out a low growl, his fingers tracing over your skin as he takes in the sight of you.

you looked at him over your shoulder. "you're gonna fuck me?"

a smile tugged at his lips, while his cock teased on your slit, hips bucking just enough to make

you moan. "that's what you want. you're so wet for me," his voice raspy. "look at how desperate you are. you're practically dripping for cock."

you close your eyes when you feel his cock rubbing between your thighs. you'd be lying to yourself—to him, if you say you didn't want this. he can feel your body responding to him, feeling how stiffened you get, how you shiver and most importantly, how slick you're getting.

he pressed the tip of his cock on your clit. a whimper left your mouth. 

but he was just teasing, yeah, he was giving you pleasure but not what you needed—his cock inside you.

he even moved your panty aside, watching the string of fluids that came from your pussy get sticked to the piece of fabric. 

he started to rub his cock between your bare pussy and your panty, tightening the piece of fabric, giving himself pleasure.

"joel—" you whined. "please."

"what?" he growled.

you bite your lip, looking at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes. "fuck me, please."

he smirked. "yeah?"

he didn't stop rubbing himself on you—which got you desperate, so you started grinding your hips against his, trying to get relief. trying to get him to fuck you properly.

"joel, please—fuck me, please."

he lets out a low groan, his hips moving in time with yours, his cock sliding against your clit with each movement. "that's it, sweetheart," he rasps. "you want me to fuck you, don't you? you want me to fill you up and make you scream my name."

"yes, please, i'm begging you."

joel's grip on your hips tightens as he hears your plea, his own need growing even stronger. he lifts you up slightly, his hands moving to your thighs, spreading them apart.

"you're mine," he growls, his voice possessive. "mine to take, mine to ruin."

he thrusts up against you, his cock sliding into the space between your thighs, pressing against your entrance.

"you're gonna be my cumdump until you pay your debt,"

"yes—fuck, yes."

he guides you down onto his lap, his hands on your hips guiding you to sink down on his cock.

he watches as you take him in, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you around him.

"so damn tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.  he leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there. you do nothing but moan and grip on the seat as he pounds you as he wants. 

joel's mouth moves down to your shoulder, his teeth leaving marks on your skin as he continues to thrust up into you. 

"that's it, just like that," he murmurs against your skin. "you were made for this cock."

his hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding you in place as he drives into you harder and faster. you roll your eyes, feeling your walls throbbing, your legs going week. he's sending you in a bliss.

but he didn't get enough, it feels like he haven't fucked in months, it feels like he was starving for this.

joel can feel you starting to tighten around him, your body getting closer and closer to the edge. he feels a surge of pleasure and possessiveness wash over him, knowing that he's the one making you feel this way.

"joel, don't stop, i'm—close." his movements suddenly grew slower, you whined and looked at him over your shoulder. "please, joel."

"tell me you're gonna be my cumdump until you pay your debt." you made a face—not because you didn't want to. because you knew he was making this—teasing you, to piss you off. "say it."

you wiggled your hips. "i'm gonna be your cumdump until i pay my debt."

"that it," he hissed. "good girl."

 joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips snapping up against yours as he chases his own release too. he can feel your body tensing and trembling in his arms, and he knows you're about to fall apart.

"come on, angel," he whispers, his voice rough with need.

he buries his face in your neck again, biting down on your skin as he thrusts one final time, pushing you both over the edge.

"oh god, i'm gonna come," he gasps, his voice almost a whimper. 

joel's body tenses as he comes, his release flooding into you. he lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you tightly against him.

"fuck," he gasps, his breath ragged. 

he keeps you there for a moment, both of you catching your breath, his body still trembling slightly from the intensity of his orgasm.

joel slowly pulls out of you, his fingers trailing through the mess between your legs.

"look at that," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction to see how flushed and pounded you are.

he lifts his fingers to your mouth, sliding them between your lips. "taste yourself," he commands.

and so you did when you felt his other hand cupping your pussy, his thumb finding your sensitive clit, drawing circles around it. you wrapped your lips around his fingers and tasted you both.

"so obedient," he chuckled. "we're gonna have fun."

"fuck you." you muttered. he swatted your ass. "told ya you’d beg for cock."

♡

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

you trust me, yeah? // Quinn Hughes

is the line a little blurry or do i just like the way you sound?

AN: just a little part 2 of this story. This can definitely be read as a standalone.

WC: 1.3k

CW: weed/shotgunning, lake house shenanigans, thigh riding, Quinn's yappy, Trevor ruining a moment, a lowkey shitty ending bc I suck at those.

none of the photos are mine, i found them on pinterest. all credit to the owners.

Off season meant hanging out with the people you hadn’t seen all season or rather an excuse to get high and drink and be rowdy kids. Not being watched by a national sports league. You don't really smoke, never tried it. They never judged you for it, always offered if you ever did wanna try, they'd take it so easy on you and would never rush or push you into more than what you were comfortable with. Quinn made sure you never felt left out.

This is the time. you're gonna smoke weed today! you thought to yourself as you walked down from your bedroom. 

When you finally get to the yard, everyone's outside circled around a much too large fire pit. You're finally comfortable and there's no reason to be nervous. All your friends are right there. Quinn is right there. 

As the night goes on and more people are working their way inside to play some drinking games, you and Quinn are left outside with a half smoked blunt and a weak fire going. You'd take a deep breath, Quinn immediately catching onto your nerves. "Hey, what's wrong pretty?" Quinn always got a lil more affectionate when he was high. You weren't complaining though. After the last time, you wanted nothing more than him.

You'd shake your head and mumble “nothing”. He'd cock his eyebrow, not believing what you said. So you'd just quickly talk it out. 

"Iwannasmokeweedbutimalittlenervous" and you'd take another breath and stare at the fire. All to hear his sweet chuckle, "there's this thing that we could do, where you don't have to take a hit off the blunt. I could take the hit, give it to you and see how you feel." 

You're more confused now. What is talking about? How can you get high by not smoking it? He'd see the confusion on your face, "you trust me, yeah?" and you'd nod.

He'd pull you into his lap, and you're already bright red. Nervous, shy, hoping to all fuck that he can't feel how fast your heart is beating.

"Open your mouth a little bit." he'd relight the blunt, take a rather big hit, grab your jaw and pull you close. Close enough that his lips were on yours and blew the smoke into your lungs. He'd pull away a little, hand still holding your jaw. “See? Not too bad.”

You're both high, though Quinn’s way less high than you are. You're sitting on his bed together, pressed into each other's sides. The weight of him keeps you somewhat still. Some stupid movie he picked is playing and you aren't actually paying any attention to it. It's just background noise at this point.

You're hot and he is so close.

It's a problem that's been happening since the last night you were left alone with Quinn. Watching his hands and they way his arms flex and picturing back to the way they felt on your body. But right now his hands are the last thing on your mind, cause your eyes are stuck on his thighs, exposed by his stupidly small shorts. The fuzz of your brain moving quicker than your subconscious has you speaking something you never would've told him prior.

"I wonder if I can get off alone on someone's thigh."

Quinn’s brows scrunch, and he looks down at you a little wide eyed. "Huh?" You sigh a little. 

"Ya know," you say, biting at the inside of your cheek. "I just wonder if I could grind my pussy on a thigh and get off doing that and like just that. No actual sex, just that I guess."

He chokes on nothing. "What?" he mumbles again, but he's leaning down to you, listening fully now.

"Like, taking my pants off, then getting up on someone's thigh, rubbing against it and using it to get off." You lean back against his side and sigh.

Quinn can't even hide his boner anymore. His mind suddenly stuck on the image of his pretty best friend perched on his leg, begging, pleading him for something.

"Bet that'd feel good," he says softly, rubbing his hand on your shoulder. "Feeling a wet cunt on me. Helping you grind on my thigh." 

You don't even catch what he's said.

"Guess I'll never know," you pout.

His arm sneaks down behind you and around your waist and he's pulling you towards him. He leans down to your ear, whispering "Come here."

Your head snaps towards him, you furrow your brows. "What did you say?"

Quinn's pulling you into his lap, hands settling on your hips. His hard cock's pressing aginst your shorts.

"I said, come here.” His voice low, eyes searching your face. "We're best friends babe, already seen you spread for me. Just wanna see if you can do it'" He’s tugging at your shorts. "Can you take these off for me?"

You do, quickly. Body heavy, almost like you're in a dream and this isn't real. By the time you're snapped back to reality, his shorts are up, leaving his thigh fully bare, waiting for you. He raises his eyebrows at you, smirking. "Well, are you gonna try?"

"Shut up Quinny," you whisper. Your hands settle on his shoulders and you take a breath before moving down to his thigh, sitting on it. You whimper at the feeling, then fall into a fit of giggles. As you go to open your mouth Quinn grabs your hips and pulls you forward, your pussy sliding up his thigh and back to the position you were just in. "Oh my god."

"So fucking wet," he whispers, looking up at you with eyes, suddenly darker than they just were. "How long have you been this wet, baby?"

"Um - Uh. Not super long," you whisper, unsure of if he knows you're lying. As if he cant feel, just how wet you actually are. 

You move against him again, letting your cunt slide on the bare skin, you moan softly. 

"Oh, yeah?" Quinn asks, hands resting on your hips. Grip tightening each time you moan. "Feel good?"

"Uh huh."

He groans and uses his hands to guide your movements. Moving his thigh up every so often to add a little more pressure to your already aching clit. 

"Quinn, wanna-"

He stills your movements. "Wanna what, pretty? Wanna cum?" 

You can't form any words, just trying not to let the tears fall from his sudden stop. His fingers rub circles on the side of your thigh, and he pinches just to hear you moan. Making a mental note of that. "Asked you a question sweetheart, you want what?" 

"Wanna cum," your voice came out small.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, "go on, then. Let me see you cum, again."

His hands move off of your hips, and move to behind his head. Eyes trained on your body. Very obviously committing your wrecked state to his memory.

He’s sighing happily when he feels you move against him. "Doin' so good, don't gotta ask. Just go for it, alright?"

Nodding eagerly, you keep moving. Eyes closing as you're nearing the edge. 

His grip on your chin takes you by surprise, "eyes open, wanna see your pretty face fully when you come undone on my thigh. Wanna see how pretty you look when you make a mess."

"Oh, there we go, Atta girl. Come on." his eyes locked on yours, watching your mouth hang open. His finger finding a home against your tongue. “You gotta be quiet, don't want anyone else to hear you. That's for me only huh? Yeah it is. Gonna let me have it? Course you are, you're my good girl.”

He’s pulling you flush to his chest, hand settling on your lower back. “Did so good, pretty. I lo-” He's interrupted by his door handle rattling, forever thankful that even in his stoned thoughts he knew to lock the door. 

“Quinn! Where is y/n? I need her to settle an arguement.” Trevor’s voice slurs outside his door.

[sturnsafterdark]

Surprise · M. Sturniolo

oh don't mind me... just thinking about matt coming home from tour. Instead of going home with his brothers, he gets an Uber straight to your place.

smutty smut smut. read at your own discretion.

He's pent up. So, so, pent up. He thought he was sexually frustrated after the last tour, but this one? Fuck. Last tour he didn't have someone waiting for him to come home. All he had to look forward to was the promise of rest and some privacy to finally get the chance to jerk off when he wanted. This time, he had you to look forward to and miss.

To clarify, it wasn't a bad tour. Not at all. It was so much fun. He loved every second. Well, nearly every second.

He didn't love the late nights. He'd get back to his bunk, or if he was lucky it was a hotel room, exhausted every night. There was also very little privacy, his brothers nearly always nearby. Even when he was in a hotel, he knew his brothers had the extra key to his room, they could barge in anytime.

Before going to sleep, his mind would wander to you. It always started innocently, thinking of your text messages from earlier or your phone conversations. Then, his mind would really wander off, despite his best efforts

He missed you. Every little thing. He missed your voice, your smile, your laugh when he'd say something funny. The way your eyes always seemed to twinkle.

He missed holding your hand. He missed hugging you, cuddling you close to him on the couch or in bed. He missed kissing you. He missed the feeling of your lips on him, of your hands on him, always so soft.

He missed undressing you, feeling like he was always unwrapping the most precious gift he'd ever been given. He missed laying you down, your hair fanning out against the pillow, eyes hooded as you watched his every move. He missed finally getting to the best part, slowing sinking into your tight-

Aaaaaand great. Now he's rock hard in the back of an Uber halfway to your place. Just wonderful.

Little did he know, you were feeling the exact same way. It was almost embarrassing to you. You were a grown woman. You had sex toys and pictures and videos saved of your extremely attractive boyfriend. There was no logical reason you couldn't satisfy yourself during his absence.

Except you couldn't. You had tried. Oh had you tried. One night you were so sexually frustrated you swore you were going to lose it and start gnawing at your bedframe or something. You could get close, but you just couldn't get all the way there. Your vibrator, your rose toy, your pink dildo, your own fingers; needless to say you tried it all.

But it wasn't him. It wasn't the same.

So here you both were, over a month long dry spell.

But you were ready to fix that. You knew your boyfriend was on his way over, just a little over 20 minutes away according to his last text to you.

Was some part of you ashamed of your plan to jump him the second he got in your door? Yeah, a very very small part. The rest was just burning with hot desire and longing.

You had showered, shaved, and moisturized every part of your body with Matt's favorite smelling body oil you had. You had adorned your body in his favorite lingerie set, smiling at the memory of the first time he had seen you in this set and how he had quite nearly ripped it off of you. You grabbed your black silk robe off your bed, putting it on and tying it securely as you made your way back to the living room, smirking to yourself at the though of what was to come as you heard Matt's key unlocking your front door.

"Baby?" Matt called as he opened your front door and stepped in, eyes quickly finding you. You felt heat rush to your face as you took in his hungry expression as he eyed your scantily clad form in the middle of the living room, quickly kicking your front door shut and locking it. You feel heat also rush to your core as you looked him over. He knew your weakness, an all black outfit and some slightly messy hair.

"I have a welcome home surprise for you" You whisper as you untie and drop the robe, it falling to the floor and pooling around your feet.

You swear you can see Matt's pupils dilate as he walks towards you. His hands come up as he finally arrives in front of you, one hand going to your waist as the other moved to the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he pulled you in for a searing kiss.

Matt's hand that was firmly holding your waist moves lower, caressing your skin as he moves to grab your ass. You gasp at the touch, leading him to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. Your hands move from his shoulders to his chest, gently but firmly pushing him, making him fall back on the couch. He just looks like a walking billboard for sex right now. Hair messy, lips red and plump, pupils blown, sitting manspread on your couch.

You rest your hands on his shoulders as you move to straddle him, his hands coming up to steady you as you make yourself comfortable, him hissing as your core rests on his length that's straining against his jeans. You smirk at the sound, rocking your hips to grind against him, your smirk widening at the choked out groan that escapes Matt's lips.

The next rock of your hips wipes the cocky expression of your face as sparks shoot up your spine from Matt's thumb finding your clit through your panties and beginning to rub firm circles over the nub. Your thighs attempt to clamp together, as you whine softly.

"shhhh, lemme make you feel good too," matt coos softly, pressing tighter circles. You feel the knot in your stomach get increasingly tighter and tighter, but while you still have the ability to think you push his hand away, panting softly and shaking your head.

"wanna cum on you, with you," you tell him, breathless at just the mere thought. Your hands move to his belt buckle, making quick work of unfastening it and unbuttoning his pants. He raises his hips and helps you pull his pants off, then moving to remove his shirt. You straddle him once again, grasping him in your hand as you move to line yourself up, before slowly sinking down on his throbbing length as your eyes flutter closed and your mouth comes open in a soft O shape at the sensation of finally being together again.

You sit for a minute or so, adjusting to him like you always have to, especially when a whole entire month has passed since the last time. As your eyes flutter open, you take in the sight of your boyfriend. His head is thrown back against the couch cushion, eyes clinched shut. His hands are surprisingly not on you, instead they are both gripping the cushions tightly, veins in his arms on prominent display from the streets of his grip. He almost looks in pain.

"You okay?" You ask, giving an experimental roll of your hips causing you to sigh and him to groan.

"y-yeah sweetheart," he grits out, sounding strained, "it's just," he trails off.

"just what?" you question, your hands tilting his face to look at you.

"it's takin every bit of restraint I have to not absolutely rail you into this couch right now," he says huskily and bluntly.

At his words and bigger fire errupts in you, the knot in your stomach somehow getting tighter. Rail you? Now that was a new description for sex with him, and just the thought was glorious. You feel yourself automatically clinch around him at the thought, causing him to groan, gripping your hips firmly.

"please do" you tell him.

Its like a switch was flipped. In two seconds he has you under him, you on your back laying on the couch. One leg was slung around his hip, the other propped up on his shoulder. He drew his hips back, before slamming all the way back in, jolting your whole body. You cry out as he sets a brutal pace with strokes so deep you can hardly breath.

"So good for me," he praises, "missed you s'much."

"m-missed you" you blubber out, already a fucked out mess underneath him, your fingernails digging into his back, "s-so big," you cry.

A cocky smirk crosses Matt's face.

"yeah, baby? you take me so well," he praises you again, his jaw clinching as he feels your spongy warm walls become somehow tighter around him.

He slams into you again and again, the only noises in the room that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping together, lewd wetness from your arousal absolutely drenching him, and your shared moans that were constant.

Matt's hands move to your hips, lifting them slightly up off the couch. He quickly grabs one of your decorative pillows that had fallen off your couch, placing it under your hips to keep them elevated. The new angle this gave left you breathless, you moaning unintelligiblely as he continued his now deeper thrusts. Each thrust in had him rubbing against that perfect spot inside of you, his tip just kissing your cervix each time. Your walls spasm and contract even tighter, the knot in your stomach getting unbearably tight.

"gonna cum for me, baby? go ahead, pretty girl, make a mess f'me" he tells you. his words alone almost have you tumbling over the edge.

You couldn't finish just yet, you had one last surprise up your sleeve. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him into you for a searing kiss.

"cum in me," you whisper breathlessly.

Matt swears he feels himself glitch. You feel his hips and dick twitch in response to your words. His thrusts become more brutal at your words, powerful thrusts moving you up the couch as he nears his high. One more precise thrust to the perfect spot inside you and that was it.

You cry out Matt's name on an endless loop and your body shudders through your orgasm. Feeling you cum and watching the pleasure wash over you was Matt's ending. He groans as he comes to rest, in you to the hilt as his dick twitches with each rope of cum that paints your swollen walls as he finishes inside you.

"y'perfect, y'know that? god, i love you" he whispers to you as he catches his breath.

"love you too," you sigh out, warm, sated, and content.

you both settle down into each other's arms, matt grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and tossing it over you both. he presses soft kisses against your shoulder as he holds you. you both drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at home again.

[dollwrites]

Could we maybe have some aot piss kink pretty please? Character of your choice 👉🏻👈🏻

ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴢᴇᴋᴇ ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!soldier!reader, noncon, omorashi, piss kink, size kink, he calls reader little girl, Zeke’s a meanie. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ this technically was a dizzy drabble that spiraled out of control, i was rlly high when i wrote this so please be nice lol please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“N— not so hard, please—!” you gurgled. you felt utterly breathless; Zeke had one, heavily muscled arm wrapped around your throat, nesting you perfectly within the crook to hold you in place whilst he fucked you with reckless abandon. one of your hands clawed at his forearm, your nails digging into the warm skin without the strength to pry it away from your neck, whilst the other pushes your palm blindly behind you, shoving at the muscle pads in his lower abdomen through the sweat-dampened fabric of his button up, hoping the pushing would force him to slow down and his thrusts to shallow.

it didn’t.

in fact, your war chief didn’t even seem fazed by your attempt. his hips still bucked forward, rutting into you like a wild beast. your back was contorted into the tightest arch, especially when Zeke hoisted you off of your feet with ease, and allowed them to sway back and forth to the rhythm of his fucking, creating oblong shadows of your boots centimeters below on the ground that bounced back and forth in a taunting dance that reminded you of just how powerless you truly were.

you couldn’t even reach out a hand to brace yourself against the tree that concealed your predicament from the rest of the training soldiers. you had been with them, only moments before you found yourself at the mercy of your commander, sweating under a hot sun. you’d visited your own flask of water too many times to replenish the hydration that continued to leak out of your pores, and then you’d had to expel the rest.

you had to go. badly.

but Zeke was strict about training— and soldiers couldn’t simply excuse themselves. you’d known this already, so you’d decided to wait until you thought his scrutinizing gaze was occupied, and sneak into the woods to soothe your aching bladder. you’d vowed to yourself to be as quick as possible, and return to training before he noticed. but, unfortunately, Zeke had seen you slip away whilst you thought no one was watching, and followed you to the tree line, only to snatch you up before you’d managed to find the perfect cover to relieve yourself.

“P—please, Zeke…” you whimpered, legs trembling, boots clacking together. you were trapped in this position, hanging off of his cock, forced to feel it driving into you over and over, battering your most sensitive core. the pressure building also serves to put a strain on your poor, full bladder, which is what you were most concerned about. “I really… I have to go…”

Zeke snorts breath through his nose, his face smushed against the back of your neck, ramming into you at an unrelenting pace. “‘Go’?” he repeated in a mocking coo. “You were hiding in the woods, slacking off on my training, to find a nice, private place to piss?” a blush burned the apples of your cheeks— you hated how vulgar his choice of wording was, and the sound of your slick— wet and sloppy— squelching when he thrusts into you was beyond humiliating. “Well, looks like you found one.”

you were panting, cunt clenching around his thick cock as he bullied your body. it felt as though, after discovering your reasoning, Zeke’s rutting became all the more feral— harder and faster. you could already feel control slipping, and the threat of sullying yourself was embarrassing enough, but doing it with your commander balls deep in your pussy? your legs, though weak and awkward, attempt to find purchase for your feet against his thighs, and you squirm, becoming desperate. “P-put me down, now, Zeke, please!!” you urged, both hands now trying to get between your back and his chest to shove at him, “I— I really can’t hold it anymore!”

Zeke’s laugh was a coarse bark, his free arm snaking beneath your knees to pull you into an even more submissive position— folded in half with your knees up to your chest, feet flopping haplessly in front of you. from this angle, Zeke can rely on gravity to pull you down, adding more intensity to the snapping of his hips, his balls slap against your swollen clit when he fills you completely. “Poor, little girl.” he mocks, “you’re getting so desperate not to piss yourself it’s almost too cute.” his voice was low and sweet, but you knew he really wanted you distraught— humiliated. he got off on seeing you degraded, whether it was in front of his men or at times like this, when he fucked you in secrecy, he would always take that extra step to make sure you were aware of your own shame. smearing his parted lips through your hair and up to your cheek, his beard scratching your soft skin, you wince and try to plead with him again. begging him to just stop so you wouldn’t wet yourself.

ultimately, however, you lose the battle.

from this new, mind-numbing angle, Zeke would also hammer against your g-spot at a rapid-fire pace, forcing an orgasm out of you regardless of how much you didn’t want to cum. when you began to unravel, you also felt control of your bladder dissipate, much to your dismay. a weak, “No, stop…!” dripped from your lips, but whether it was meant for your assailant or your own body was irrelevant. your stream was high-arcing and messy, splattering against your bottoms that had been bunched around your calves and your boots, as well as trickled against fallen leaves and pooled the first layer of dirt on the earth beneath into mud.

Zeke grunts, your spasming and clenching had also helped him to chase his own high, and he gave you a few more, deep, hard thrusts, snarling an almost mindless, “Fuck.” before releasing you from the prison his arms provided. the first thing you felt when you slid from his cock was your feet against the ground, and you scrambled to stay upright, your knees wobbling. you reach out to hug the tree in front of you to stay upright with a quiet groan, and you feel Zeke shooting a sticky, warm load on your ass. globs of his release rolls over your flesh, dripping into the panties and trousers you were shimmying back into place. “Easy, little girl.” Zeke murmurs, pressing his large palm against the back of your head to halt your movements. you wanted to protest, but your face was smushed against the rough bark of the tree, and you weren’t interested in how it might taste, so you simply let out a grunt of displeasure. “I’m just about done.”

your hands were still gripping the waistband of your panties and bottoms, eager to be able to fasten them, but Zeke wormed the twitching, leaking tip of his freshly satiated cock between your ass cheeks, and ran a slow stripe down to your ruined pussy. for a moment, you wince, worried that he’s going to shove it back inside you— he had a habit of claiming that fucking you just once was never enough, he would need a round or two more, but you were always stretched and aching after the first. this time, he doesn’t. he sees you tense, and he chuckles. “If I wasn’t so damned busy today, I’d turn your little cunt inside out for making such a mess.” he threatened with an amused glance down to his own trousers, speckled with wet patches, then sighed, as if he were disappointed. “But I guess this’ll have to do. It’ll still be fun for me, watching you wobble like a newborn horse and attempt to finish training.” he leans in close to your cheek for a moment. his breath was warm, and had the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. “But I’ll give you one more little parting gift.”

a brand new warmth floods your cotton panties, and your eyes widen as you realize what Zeke’s doing. the tip of his cock ran between your netherlips once or twice, before aiming directly for your underwear, and a golden stream, slow and steady, taints your garments. he was pissing in your panties, marking your spent sex. you closed your eyes tightly, and tried not to imagine the smugness of the smirk you knew he must be wearing now. his glasses would be fogged, cheeks tinted pink, and he would be grinning a victorious grin as he soiled your pretty pussy. Zeke draws it out for as long as possible, making sure his piss thoroughly seeps into your panties, before he gives himself a couple of shakes, and tucks his satisfied cock back into his pants.

“Now,” he hums, taking a step back to admire his handiwork. a cum-smeared, piss-soaked little plaything he had his fun with. you, on the other hand, said nothing as you hoist your clothes back on. grimacing, you feel the warmth starting to run chilly, his mess and your own ensuring that your uniform pants were thoroughly streaked and spotted with wetness. once you’ve secured your belt back in place, you turn around to glare up at him. Zeke had taken his glasses off, and was rubbing the lenses against the front of his shirt, wiping away the fog that had built up throughout the romp, before he looked at you with two, deep blue oceans that you would never understand. he could be so mean sometimes, and he seemed to enjoy tormenting you, but his eyes held not an ounce of malice. he didn’t hate you. he just enjoyed spoiling you. his mouth was quirked up in a pleased smirk, and he cocks his head in the direction of the training grounds, “back to work.”

[pinkmirth]

i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈

⸻ STUFFED!

SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?

CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀

reiner’s terribly distracted.

the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.

you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking this week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 

[tyuggyuuu]

Just accidentally.

Pairing Karina x fem!reader 🔞 / fifth member of Aespa

Synopsis Accidentally walking up almost naked to your member hotel room, who is also one of your enemies for years.

Warning contains smutx, dirty talk, cursing, using toys, degrading, petnames (mostly slut,whore, princess) dom!Karina and sub!reader, fingering, toying, striping.

Wc : 1,5k

It was just a normal day, like always, doing your scheduled works and practicing really hard for your concert as the concert was close. While rehearsing, you couldn't stop looking at one member, Karina. It wasn't because you were jealous or anything, like always being envious of someone, but something else was happening today. Yeah, it was captivating to watch how her flawless body moved and her curves seemed to be begging to be embraced.

Just before your eyes could switch their gaze, the girl noticed, and her face flashed into a daring smirk, which she always had whenever she was around you.

Your breath hitches as she steps closer to you. "What are you looking at, princess?" Her words spin your mind, causing you to pause a little. You reply, "Nothing, why do you care? Just do your practice, man!" Moving your body, you face your back to her, but you can still feel her frowning face from behind.

"I know you imagined something, right?" Her smirk appeared again, which you could feel just from behind as you have known her for more than years. "Whatever, Karina, do your practice or else-" you stopped when you felt a hand around your waist. Her hands' softness could make anyone weak, and you being wet was just way too overwhelming. "There was something I thought would hurt you." She took her hand off, making you gasp.

The eyes of both of you didn't even try to look at the other side where poor Giselle was trying to stop your fight for the 100th time. "Stop, guys, not this time. I don't want you two to ruin our day. It's literally the concert, and our fans will go crazy if they notice. Be friendly," she finished.

"Be friendly? With her?? I can't," you scoffed before leaving the two, but Karina gazed at you as you left.

The biggest reason to hate her was that she was dating your crush, even after knowing he was your crush. You hated how you happily told her you liked someone, and the next day you saw her with that man you liked a lot.

But the past is the past. You let them both go, and even after some days, you heard they both broke up. But still, it hits you that she betrayed you. And now it looks like, she doesn't even give a fuck about what she did to you.

The happiness on your face can be seen by everyone when you walk to your hotel room after the concert. You loved your fans so much that you ended up crying a little on the stage after seeing their overwhelming support for you.

You wouldn't believe that the other members were still busy because their schedules were much busier than yours. You usually did things earlier to prevent any inconveniences later for your rest.

(well the over happiness can cause you too forget to much things lmao) spoiler

As you reach your room, you feel the exhaustion from the concert and know you need a quick bath to relax. You turn on the water, and as soon as you step in, the warm water touches your skin, instantly calming you. The steam rises around you, and your muscles start to loosen. It’s a fast bath, but enough to wash away the tiredness and help you feel refreshed.

Before you could relax and enjoy yourself, you heard the doorknob of your room opening unexpectedly at that hour. "Who is it?" you asked, with a relaxed tone knowing that only staff or members could enter, and there were plenty of CCTV cameras to monitor.

"When there was no response to your question, curiosity sparked and goosebumps rose as you stepped out to investigate. "Why are you here, Karina?" you inquired, forgetting to cover yourself as you quickly got up to check.

Your half-naked body glistened in the room, catching her gaze as she couldn't tear her eyes away. Your focus was on her lips, which were inadvertently flirting and biting, leaving you unable to think or act in that moment.

"I should be the one asking you that, you know?" Her words caused you to flinch slightly. You were confused by her statement and asked, "Why would you be the one asking this?" Your eyebrows raised in question, but you couldn't decipher any meaning after a stressful and busy day.

"This is my room," she stated, her eyes fixed on your glowing body. Before you could fully process the situation and look around to realize the unfamiliar surroundings, her hand slid onto your waist. You were only wearing a plain white shirt and panties, causing goosebumps to cover your body.

Her eyes were locked on your lips, and yours on hers. "I might..." she began to say with a hot, deep voice that made you feel aroused and eager to be with her in bed. "Please..." you blurted out, unable to control your desire. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, but she just smirked, leaving your hand there in a mix of relief and defeat.

The two of you reached for each other's lips the moment you felt the need to be intimate. "Fuck," you mumbled, still able to feel her smirking at your vulnerability. The kiss was more than just a kiss; it was becoming more passionate by the second. The tongue war was intense, and in the end, she emerged as the victor.

"Do you like it?" she asked, one hand on your waist and the other on your ass. You moaned uncontrollably from the pleasure you were receiving as she started to lick your neck and shoulder, giving you hard and wet kisses. "You're so good," you spoke out, the praise only making her more intense as she slapped your ass.

"It will be even better if you strip for me, won't it? You will, right?" Her smirk and dominating tone made you feel submissive in your mind, and you did as she asked.

She sat comfortably on the master bed as she undressed herself and watched you strip for her. "Just wait until I have my way with you, my cute little slut," she said, her words turning you on even more and making you impatient. You got on your knees and crawled to her naked as she spread her legs, asking you to pleasure her, which you did without hesitation.

Her moans grew louder as you pleasured her, your tongue playing with her clit and her pussy. "Damn it, you whore. You know...ahh, fuck, I'm going to punish you for making me feel this good," she said, her breathing interrupted by your intense actions. You didn't stop until she reached her climax, her cum covering your mouth, which you shamelessly licked and swallowed.

"Good girl, now come here," she said, tapping the bed next to her. You lay down, and she went to grab something else.

"You want me to pleasure you more than you want it, right, princess?" She asked, caressing the strands of hair on the sides of your face. Karina stood in front of you with a toy on her waist, her words making you nod quickly in reaction, which caused her to scoff a little at your impatience.

"Mommy, please," you pleaded with puppy eyes as she grabbed your breasts and played with each of them, her other hand down there fingering your holes, and moans escaping your mouth without hesitation.

"Fuck," you whimpered when her two fingers inserted into you and she played with your cunt. "Cum for me, princess, if you need a ride to heaven tonight," she said, her hand moving from your clit to your holes in and out, causing you to reach your climax and cum on her fingers.

She inserted the toy into your walls and started thrusting, causing you to whimper even louder as she was now fucking you with a dildo. "You're so tight, aren't you?" She smirked and began thrusting harder with each motion, making you feel like you were in heaven every second.

"Ah, you, please, make me cum, please mommy, ah, fuck me harder!" You managed to say, the words making her frown before you could release your cum. She stopped and looked at you. "You can't cum right now, You can only cum when I tell you to." You grunted as she inserted it again, both of you moaning and filling the room with your sounds and loudness.

"I want to, ah, please let me," you started to cry and whimper for her to let you cum, but her dominating self wouldn't allow it. "No," she said, making you whimper even harder as she thrust one last time and let you cum for now. After making out for a whole fifteen minutes, you both collapsed on the bed, exhausted. "Are we good now?" You asked as you lay facing each other.

"Only if you pleasure me like this every time I ask you to. I didn't know you were this good sucker," she said, making you chuckle and roll your eyes at her. "You know you're going to get punished if you roll your eyes like that at me," she said, smirking.

[void-wolfie]

I Can't Live Without You

summary: you and Jenna get into a fight, you get into a car crash before you can make amends [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

tw: swearing, arguments, drinking, a car crash (i'm probably missing something so let me know if i need to add anything)

words: 2.33k

a/n: one of my longest posts yet, sorry it took me so long to get to this request and even longer to post it. anyway, enjoy the angst :)

You stood there, frozen in place, watching the pair through the windows of the coffee shop. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them.

His hand was up her thigh, shoulders brushing with every passing word, her smile brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky. But that’s not what held your attention. No. The thing that held your attention the most, was the kiss. 

You had no right to be jealous, it’s not like you were dating her. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You liked Jenna, you really did… maybe even loved her… And you thought, or at least hoped, maybe she liked you back. But the scene in front of you told a very different story.

The couple sat towards the back of the café in a small corner booth, just against the windows. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if you weren’t about to head into the shop yourself. And yet, there they were. Hidden away like two lovers on a secret rendezvous.

You backed away, back in the direction you came from. You had plans for today, but those could wait. Right now, you needed to get away… anywhere far away from that.

Jenna saw you. She saw you turn and walk off in the other direction. There was something about the way you stormed off that caught her attention, it put a knot in her stomach.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

You wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice if they saw you. You hated crying; it made you feel weak.

You patted down your pockets, looking for your car keys. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find them, and it took even less to unlock the car door.

“What’s wrong?”

Of course… You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.

 You didn’t want to talk to her, not after what you just saw.

“Not now, Jenna. Please.” 

You didn’t turn around, keeping yourself facing towards the car. You didn’t want to see her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to see you like this. 

Jenna was taken aback. You told her everything. When something was wrong, you’d always go to her first. And now you were pushing her away? She couldn’t understand it.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under Jenna’s feet as she got closer. You didn’t move though, you refused to let her see you like this. 

“Seriously, Jenna, I’m not in the mood.” You tried again to get her to go away. But her footsteps didn’t falter or change course… Nope, Jenna was going to give you a piece of her mind, whether you liked it or not.

You wiped your eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You didn’t want her to notice what a mess you were… Not like it would matter though, Jenna noticed everything.

Her footsteps stopped next to you. You could feel her eyes boring into you, her concern practically radiating off her. You didn’t budge though. You couldn’t. It almost seemed like the closer she got the faster your tears fell.

“Hey, talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, maybe I can help…”

Fuck… You hated the world. You hated yourself, you hated that boy, you hated everything. Everything but her… How do you even tell your best friend, the girl you’re in love with, that the reason your entire world is falling apart is because of her? She was your everything, and she destroyed you.

But worst of all, she didn’t even know it.

You still had your eyes closed, praying that by some miracle she would go away.

She reached out to hold your hand, anything to try and comfort you. But you pulled away.

Jenna tried to ignore the pain in her chest as you pulled away, the feeling of your fingertips slipping past hers was almost foreign. She knew you were hurting, but it didn’t make the ache in her own heart go away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to tell her it was all just a big misunderstanding, that you were fine. But you couldn’t. Instead, more tears fell.

Jenna would never be yours. Never anything more than a friend… The longer the two of you stood there the more the realization crushed you.

“No, Jenna. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out soft, muffled by the air caught in your throat and the weight of the world slowly suffocating you.

“Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” She was getting frustrated now, evident by the tension in her voice and her rising volume.

“Because I can’t!” You snapped, “Because for fucking once, you’re the only person I can’t tell!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s not your fucking problem!”

The second the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You didn’t mean it.

You never thought you could see someone’s heart break. You always thought that was the stuff of movies and shows. And yet, that’s exactly what you saw looking at Jenna. You saw her heart shatter. You could see the tears welling in her eyes, her hands looked like they were shaking, and her face twisted in anger and hurt. She seemed…

broken.

“Sorry I even bothered then.”

You didn’t even have time to interject before she turned on her heel and stormed off. And even if you did, you weren’t sure you would’ve said anything anyway. What do you say to fix a broken heart? What do you say when your own heart is crumbling to pieces?

You finally got into your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat.

You took a second to breathe and digest whatever the hell just happened.

You ruined it. You just ruined the only relationship that ever mattered to you…

fuck.

You slammed your hand against the steering wheel. You did it again and again and again, beating the crap out of the poor thing. You kept going till your hand was purple and blue and all the anger had finally faded away. All that remained was your shattered soul and bruised hand.

You’d give anything to take back what just happened…

You stumbled out of the bar door, your eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch-black sky after sitting under the tavern lights for so long.

After your fight with Jenna you decided to turn to the best distraction you could think of; crawling into the bottom of a bottle. All things considered; you’ve been worse off. You weren’t seeing double yet and you hadn’t fallen on your face. Both of which were good things considering how much you had to drink.

You fumbled for your keys, dropping them as you pulled them from your pocket. You bent over to pick them up, your stomach churning as you did so. You heaved, silently begging your body not to barf. It churned again. You nearly lost it, but the feeling seemed to pass as quickly as it appeared.

You looked down at the keys in your hand, quickly shoving them back into your pocket. If the way you nearly puked two seconds ago told you anything it was that you were too drunk to drive home.

You pulled out your phone, trying to think of someone who’d be willing to drive you home this late at night. You clicked the first contact you could think of.

You listened to the dial tone. Once, twice, three rings. Then to voicemail. You didn’t bother leaving a message, instead hanging up. It was crazy to think she’d pick up anyway.

You clicked a different contact, your brother. Once again, it rang only to go to voicemail. You tried your sister, but once again, no answer.

You looked over at your car, contemplating just how drunk you were. Your house wasn't that far away, maybe you could drive?

No. It wasn't worth the risk. You only lived a few blocks away, you could walk. You weren’t gonna be one of those idiots on the news who got a hundred years in prison for killing someone because they drove home drunk.

You headed towards the street, making sure to keep on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to stumble into the road like some drunk idiot, even if there weren’t any cars around. You decided to put on some soft music while you walked, the quiet beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind you could hear the rumble of a car. It was getting close and fast… definitely too fast to be safe. You turned behind you to try and get a look at the car, only to be met with bright headlights right in your eyes. It almost seemed like they were swerving but it was too hard to tell.

“Hello?” Jenna answered the phone with a sigh.

She’d been halfway through pouring herself yet another glass of white wine when her phone started to ring. She was just going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. Eventually, she decided to pick it up and tell whoever it was to call back tomorrow.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight from earlier. In fact, it was all she could think about all day. And the more she thought about it the more her chest ached. And the more her chest ached, the more wine she found herself pouring.

“Jenna! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?”  It was her mom; she seemed worried, frantic even. She wasn’t sure why she was so worked up, but it couldn’t have been good.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause. A moment of silence. The tension that seeped into the air sent chills down Jenna’s spine.

“Mom?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Now she was even more confused. Did something happen? “You’re scaring me, Mom. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun. I was worried, I thought you might’ve been with her when it happened and- ”

“With who? What happened?”

“Oh,” she could hear her mom’s voice cracking from the other side of the phone, it only made her more worried, “Sweetheart… There was an accident, a bad one.” Her mom didn’t need to say your name, Jenna already knew exactly who she was talking about.

Her mom kept rambling, but she was hardly listening. Jenna made out some words; drunk driver, life support, critical condition… but all she could think about was you.

“What hospital?” Jenna interrupted. She loved her mom, but the conversation at hand was far from her mind. She needed to see you, she needed to know you were going to be okay. You had to be okay… she wasn’t sure what she would even do if you weren’t.

“The hospital just off of thirteenth street-”

“What floor?”

“The ICU-”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t care how many stoplights she had to run or what laws she had to break. She’d be there in fifteen minutes, damn the consequences.

Before her mom could get another word in, Jenna hung up the phone.

True to her word it only took her fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, a feat which should’ve been nearly impossible given how far away she lived. 

Jenna ran up to the nurse’s station, frantic and out of breath, “Where’s-”

Before she could finish her question alarms started blaring. Rapid beeping shot out from the computers, lights began flashing outside one of the rooms, everyone jumped out of their seats. All Jenna could comprehend from the chaos was ‘Code Blue’ and ‘Room 143’.

She watched the nurses rush down the hall towards the flashing lights, she noted doctors and other nurses rushing towards the same room as well. One of the nurses closed the blinds while another closed the door to keep the family from watching from the hall.

It took a few seconds before she realized she recognized the family. She noted your brother, looking pale and emotionless. Your mother, tears streaming down her eyes and holding onto your sister, who was crying herself, for dear life.

The alarms, your family, the term ‘Code Blue’… the realization of what was happening hit Jenna like a freight train.

“No…” Jenna didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t. “No… No, no, no, no -”

Her legs were carrying her before she even realized what she was doing, her body acting off instinct.

She nearly tripped as a pair of arms latched onto her, holding her back from storming into the room. She tried pushing the arms off, her sights still set on the door in front of her, but it was pointless. Whoever had her wasn’t letting go.

Tears clouded her vision, but she could hear the doctors inside your room clearly; demanding voices talking about drugs and techniques, the sound of the defibrillator going, different nurses and doctors all talking over one another.

She needed you to be okay. You had to be okay.

Then, just as quickly as it all started, everything went quiet.

Jenna’s pleading had stopped, lost to her hoarse voice and sobbing cries. The doctors had all gone quiet, there was no more talk of treatments or drugs. The familiar tones of the defibrillator had stopped, no more sounds from charging or discharging. All that remained were the normal sounds of a busy hospital.

The loudest sound of all though, was the one sound that was missing. Your hospital monitor had gone silent, most likely turned off by one of the doctors or nurses. No alarms, no ticks or beeps, just cold steady silence.

“Time of death, twenty-three fifty-seven.”

Jenna heard one of the doctors say it, almost as clear as day. She never thought one little sentence could hurt her so bad, and yet, having her heart ripped from her chest would’ve been less painful.

You were gone.

Not just gone…

Dead.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, graphic violence, injuries, blood, Guns, ❗reader does some very violent things in this one so read with caution❗ possible ooc,

Part 21: fireflies electric boogaloo

🔹🔹🔹

”Who the hell is Barnes?”

Well…. Shit. What do you even say to the caped freak? Ten years ago a mistake like that would've had you shot in the head by your handlers right in the field.

“…. Don't worry about it, just…just someone I used to know…long time ago.” it's not a lie, or at least it doesn't feel like one on your tongue. After all, Barnes and Bucky are two very different people, one of them you'd almost call trustworthy. The other one understands you and all your weak failures and filthy successes. no, Barnes is long in the past you've buried.

You hope Batman takes your word for it, there's too much going on at the moment, fire and chaos all over the street while you're both bleeding in an alleyway. But no, Batman scowls at you and tightens his grip on you like a cat pinning a bird, you can nearly feel the claws.

“Bullshit, who's Barnes and why's he hitting you.” you can feel the gripping texture on the palms of his gloves pressing into your skin through the overcoat Alfred gave you, it's like he's subconsciously squeezing the answer from you.

You blink at him and with a quick move you shove his hands off and take a few steps back. Fuck you need to think. “Back off, I'm married.”

The insinuation doesn't throw him off and he steps after you with a clear frown carved on what's visible of his face. “Answer me.”

He reaches towards you again, so without thinking you roughly smack his hand away. “and I said back. off.”

His head tilts down for a second, his lips thinning in a grimace. you swear you can feel the eye contact when he looks back up and widens his stance again.

“Do you intend to use that?”

You look down and freeze when you realize your squeezing the gun in your hand tightly, when did you pull it back out-

You shove it into the inner coat pocket with a tremor in your hands.

“no i-no!…. I'm not a murderer. Batman.”

the lie tastes like ash on your tongue.

“then why are you here?”

You can't say a damn word when he says that, why are you? Were you really trying to help Tim and Alfred by leaving them alone? Or were you looking for an excuse to hurt something…. Would you have shot Batman if the gun was in your hand when he jumped you?

“…the same reason you're here i suppose, someone's gotta do something in this fucking place.”

“you wanna tell me who Barnes is then? Or is he someone who's ‘doing something’ in the past you apparently don't remember.”

“mind your own business, my struggles are mine to deal wi-”

A shot just barely misses either of you, a bullet lodges in the brick wall beside you and showers you in crumbled bits of stone as you duck away and take cover behind a dumpster.

Batman's right beside you a second later, your shoulders rubbing together uncomfortably as he presses in close to you.

“God…. Where did these people even come from? I thought you would've monitored startup groups like them since you're apparently keeping tabs on everything in this shithole.”

He just grunts at you while peering around the edge of the dumpster, his hand slowly and quietly pulling one of his utility belt pouches open to pull out some kind of small metal objects, are those taser discs?

You don't get a chance to question him further before he dives and rolls over to another dumpster while a shots fired off at him, they were close to their target that time. You watch from your position as Batman presses up against the grimy wall of metal and carefully arranges the discs between his fingers, you peek around the corner of your own dumpster and watch as three figures start to cautiously comb down the alley, they're definitely all armed judging by the poses.

You jerk your arm up and hold it there until Batman glances in your direction again, you hold up three fingers and then make a gun shape with your hand while gesturing your head in their direction, he'd be stupid to not get it.

When he nods and shifts his position where he's crouching you decide to make things easier here, you slowly pick up a dented up and rusty trashcan lid and turn yourself around, ignoring the warning look Batman gives you to stand up and throw it like a frisbee as hard as you can, those lessons with Rogers really paid off.

The movement makes the three people jump and when they see something thrown at them they instinctively throw their hands up. Batman throws one of the discs at the lead man, it must be magnetic because the disc sticks to the man's gun and fires off an electrical charge, just as you suspected it's similar to Natalia's. Once the man stiffens up and tries to drops to the ground, Batman charges them all like a bull in an arena, it's kinda amusing to watch how quickly he knocks one out- your jaw aching at the same punch he delivers to the tall one of the trio- you know how badly that hurt.

You straighten up and lean against the wall as you watch, the third one swings his arm around to point his gun at Batman but he just gets kicked in the knuckles, with the steel toe boots too. You wince and rub your thumb up and down your own hand at the sight, not that you can really pity the fools after they shot at you.

the first one manages to stumble back to his feet so, without thinking you bend over to grab a brick, bouncing it in your hand a few times as you judge the weight of it like a kid playing with a baseball, the brick thuds loudly when it hits the back of the mans head.

batman whips around to stare at you once they’re all dropped, his lips curling into a frown once again as he briskly approaches you. “don't get involved in this anymore than you already have.”

you scowl at him and sidestep him to walk out of the alley, shoulder-checking him as you pass him. “what, you get to bench me after busting my face open? until this is over i’m doing what i need to to survive, just like you and your little followers.”

“you’re a civilian.” he murmurs lowly as he stalks after you, it’s like he’s looking for a reason to antagonize you.

you peek around the corner of the building quickly before strolling out onto the street. “are you military? last i knew you’re a vigilante, not a government entity.”

He doesn't reply, good. You're not looking to fight him. Down the street you can see the charred smoldering remains of the car, looking around there's no sign of the two you'd come with so you're taking that as a sign that they did the smart thing and got the hell out of this area.

The guilt of leaving them doesn't lessen.

“…what's your plan?” you call out just loud enough for the vigilante to hear, the crunching of boots behind you telling you he's still around.

“I was looking for stragglers when I….. Found you. I'm getting reports the attacks are focusing a few blocks down so that's where I'm going.”

You hum, damn you wish you had some gear…

“Sounds awful, are we going on foot?”

The rhythmic crunching behind you stops so you do too, batman's already staring at you when you glance over your shoulder at him. His weight shifts foot to foot, is he favoring a knee?

“…you're going to a secure area, preferably home or to a hospital…” he turns his head away quickly, clearly avoiding your reaction, the coward.

You can barely restrain the eye roll. “…that's not happening.”

You turn away from him again and start jogging down the sidewalk, stepping over broken glass and rammed-over street signs. This streets essentially deserted now, empty streets and smashed windows all around you. The patches of grass growing between the cracks in the concrete are blackened and burnt, the air smells even worse than usual, like smoke and gas on top of the faint smell of smog. It pisses you off all over again.

“(name), (name)!” Batman catches up to you and angrily grabs at your wrist to pull you to a stop, his body language angry as he steps in front of you. “Can you just listen to me? This isn't your fight.”

You're angry, what's his fucking issue with you? “it's mine as much as it's yours, hero. I don't need a cape to do something about terrorists.”

He let's out such a deep, disappointed sigh that it reminds you of Bruce scolding one of the many, many children.

“goddamn-(name), can you be reasonable for once today? You're running around with nothing but hopes and dreams to protect you! You don't so much as have a proper mask while you're breathing in all this ash and smoke, don't. Be. Stupid.”

He releases your wrist to pinch his mask as if rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation, he steps back from you to calm himself down, though your next reply does the opposite to him.

“stupid? You're the one wasting both our time arguing with me when I've got four people I'm hoping to find.” you cross your arms over your chest and try to step around him, you could be doing better things right now than fighting with caped weirdos.

He let's you move around him, but he quickly turns and stomps over to you to match your pace. “is Barnes one of them?”

You can feel your eye twitching.

“Oh my God, shut. Up. About Barnes. I'm talking about my husband's butler, three teenagers! Duke and Damian are probably scared at their school while you're wasting my time bitching me out!”

You're trying not to raise your voice, -key word is trying- but for some reason batman's determined to make your walk exhausting as possible and get in your way. Even as you move around abandoned cars and burning shopping carts full of flammable materials his vitriol towards you doesn't let up.

“Because you're going to get yourself almost killed again! You're throwing yourself into danger like you've got spare lives! How do you think those kids you mentioned feel every time you throw yourself in the fire for them?”

You don't know how to reply to that, you hate that he's got one over on you. It's your life to live now it's not, you stole someone's body after you threw yourself off vormir, it's not yours it's not yours it's not he doesn't get to guilt you when you do that enough yourself.

Your silence encourages Batman to continue, his tone taking a calmer edge, almost soft. “I'm not saying it's bad you want to be here, I know that driving anger better than anyone, trust me on that. Do you think your family, your husband enjoys seeing you suffer?”

You open your mouth to reply, and then a bottle of burning fuel is thrown at your feet.

“Shit!”

You jump backwards, stumbling over yourself but it's too late. For a second the gas is cold as it splashes up your calves, then the heat bites into you like a snare. you clear yourself of the burning area on twitching, burning feet then drop to the hard ground, the cotton of your pants turns to ash and rubs against bare raw skin as you roll, even as you put the flames out the gaseous chemicals spread over the reddened skin and seeps into your nerve endings, not even eight seconds of fire and it’s agonizing.

something grabs you and you nearly go for your gun in a blind panic, but then you realize it’s batman. he drags your body backwards by your underarms and pulls you behind a car beside a rusted chainlink fence. he kneels over you and looks at your legs closely, his gloved hands gently pull the burnt and frayed edge of your pant legs up to look at the damage. you hear multiple voices whooping joyously down the street so batman grunts and pulls something out of one of his belt pouches, dropping it in your lap before he stands up and jumps over the hood of the car, your head drops down to see a medkit in your lap.

you can take the hint, you need a second to….process, anyway.

you hear more glass breaking and grunting on the other side of the car but you ignore it, with shaking hands you crack the kit open and grab the bottle of pain meds and a bandage to cover the irritated skin, you’ll properly take care of it later.

you close the box back up and slowly pull yourself up by grabbing the car handle and rearview mirror, you’re so fucking tired at this point…

“grab the bystander!”

Your head snaps over when you hear that, there's a group not thirty feet from you, Batman and two others are in the middle of it swinging wildly at everything that moves, you recognize the girl in purple from the news clip you'd seen a while ago. The other one you don't know, they're petite statured, clad in all black with a yellow bar symbol on their chest marking them as one of batman's underlings. They seem to be having a conversation with the other girl judging by the looks they're throwing at one another. Split off from the main group, a man in a gas mask points at you to three, more nervous looking people in dark coats.

You can only just sigh as they hesitantly start to approach you, ducking down behind the car again and making yourself wait, your starting to really feel all your wounds by now but you don't have any choice but to continue with what you're doing. You're not becoming a hostage to these freaks.

The three jump around the car with weapons up and snarls in their faces to find….. You're not there.

they twist and turn in place looking around, fire-resistant boots scuff the hot pavement as they awkwardly share a look between each other, when one of them kneels at the edge of the car and peeks under it, you kick him square in the face hard before sliding back out on your stomach and hands.

As you come up on your feet one of them throws his arm up - gun in hand - so you grab his wrist and shove it up to point the barrel in the air while kicking your leg out at the other one, hitting him in the general kidney area. It's not good enough though.

You release the gunman's wrist and drive your fist into the bottom of his ribs once, twice, four times. Your knuckles ache in protest of the abuse but you grit your aching teeth through it and continue. you see something out of the corner of your eye swinging at you so you drop to the ground and donkey kick at the legs of the first man that you’d kicked, he stumbles and accidentally hits his companion before falling on his ass. it’d make you laugh if you weren’t so focused.

hopping back to your feet, you back away from the trio and pull the gun out of your inner coat pocket. how it hasn’t fallen out yet or gone off you don’t know. you need to do - something shifts behind you, oh goddamn it!

gas splashes at your feet and soaks into the thin bandages you’d hastily thrown on your calves, making you stumble at the searing pain shooting up your lower body and locking your joints up. god you wish the painkillers kicked in quicker….the man that’d pointed you out earlier stands behind you with an empty glass bottle, his green eyes look bored as he watches you fall on your ass, he adjusts the gas mask on his face and then slowly pulls out a zippo and starts flicking it. the threat is clear.

as soon as he steps closer to you, lifting his hand while making direct eye contact as the small flame dances in his hand…you throw your arm up and pull the trigger.

It's as if Gotham itself falls silent in the echo of the shot bouncing between the buildings, the vigilantes fighting in the background quiet down, the thugs behind you don't utter a word, even the fires around you feel little they're silencing themselves enough that you can hear the faint drip, drip, drip of blood hitting the warm pavement.

You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until the masked one stumbles backwards and presses a hand over his side in an attempt to staunch the wound, your breath coming out slowly just as everything gets loud again.

The group of three shake themselves out of whatever stupor they were in and come at you all at once so you have no choice but to get back up and fight. You're gonna need something better than ibuprofen after all this is through.

You immediately kick one between the legs and shove him backwards into the rusted fence, of barbed wire catching on his coat while he squeaks rather loudly and high pitched. It's kinda annoying how they don't seem to learn anything about jumping you hand to hand like this…you grab the other ones wrist and twist it behind his back, forcefully maneuvering him around to smack his head down on the hood of the car with a loud thud.

Where are the other two? Glancing around you spot them limping away, the gas mask clad one being dragged by the other. You intended to just leave them be, let them go and get that wound treated, but when you watch them start to open the gas tank of a car, start pouring fuel all over it and stuff rags inside the fuel tank…. Are they making a car bomb? Right next to the vigilantes that are now starting to zip tie the downed criminals, unaware of what's about to happen to this area?

You know what's coming next, you've seen this play out too many times on agents and civilians alike, you can't just sit here like this. Waiting to watch them blow themselves up while Gotham burns around you.

You pull the makeshift fabric mask back up over your busted lip and tighten it behind your head, the barbed wire strips are long enough…

It's clear the gas mask-clad one didn't expect you to come after him, nor did he expect you to get a running go at him and wrap your thighs around his neck, using your momentum to swing behind him and wrap the steel wire around his throat, metal digs into your hands and rips through the thin skin of your palms when you lean back as if to drape off his frame by your legs and let your weight do the rest.

He struggles obviously, clawing at your legs hard enough to bleed you out and thrashing like a bull on steroids. But you just lock your entire body up and hold on, even as he slams back into a crate, even as he rips the mask off in a desperate attempt to breathe, even as he drops to the ground and tries and fails to slam his elbows into you, his body running off animal instinct as the barbed wire slowly but surely cuts into his tenderest of flesh.

He gags and tries to rasp something out around his swollen tongue, you can tell by the way his jaw moves and his lips click, but you don't care to listen. Whether he pleads for mercy or curses you or bargains, makes no difference to you after the lives he's needlessly taken. The people he was about to burn to death. It's only fitting the murderer puts down a murderer.

However before he can take his final gasp, kick his final twitch, your hands are grabbed and forcibly pried open hard enough to break something and then you're pulled out from under and away from him.

Your first instinct was to bite the hand holding you.

“Ow-Jesus Christ on a cracker! I'm not one of them you frigging piranha!” A young feminine voice yelps out, dropping you roughly on the ground and waving their hand around dramatically.

“Don't give me rabies while I'm just trying to move you away from the fumes! Where did you learn to bite that hard, are you part pitbull? T-Rex?”

You turn yourself around to look up at the purple-clad one, a few strands of blonde hair escaped from under her hood as she bounces around and studies her hand like you just gave her a zombie virus.

“…. Sorry.” Is all you manage to mumble out, voice strained as the adrenaline starts to leave your system. Everything's starting to hit you at once, every bruise and bleeding scratch, the bone-deep ache in your skeleton, the burns and chemical burns, you're all too aware of yourself going into shock after all this time.

The girl says something but you don't quite pick up on it, your head feels heavy and just….. Odd. You hardly even react when batman's kneeling in front of you and snapping his fingers in front of your face…you don't even bother reading his lips before you slump forward and everything goes white.

🔹🔹🔹

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A/n: I hope this wasn't too much, I get it if this chapters not to someone's taste. I hope y'all are having a wonderful day/night whatever you are and as always remember to take care of yourself! 💜💜💜

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet @omnivirgo @shirp-collector-of-fixations @spidermanluvr444 @br33zy-blizzardz @lunarapple @findingjaxx @4rachn3 @buckturd @tsxukikami @paastaboi @duskeras @ibelyss @1abi @that-creepy-girl-000 @kaylaphantomhive @viilan

[meanbossart]

How did Du Drow’s personality and behavior change after turning away from Bhaal and losing his urges?

Very minimally, really. His personality changes most dramatically throughout the course of the campaign, but it's gradual enough a process that it shouldn't feel that way, at least.

Barring the standoffish-ness that he starts with (which I think is an understandable reaction to losing all of your memories and suddenly being in a life-or-death situation with a bunch of strangers) DU drow starts off as a person who isn't interested in anyone's well-being but his own, nor is he invested in anybody's story or their outcome. Everything he does is in the interest of his own survival or personal, subjective ethics (saving Arabella because she's an individual child in distress- not saving the tieflings in act 2 because they've served their purpose and he doesn't care for them as a group). He's charming, and even polite, but he makes it very transparent that he doesn't care for the happiness or comfort of others.

By act 2, he finds himself with people to care about and whose goals he's invested in - he kills Yurgir so Astarion can get his answer from Raphael even though he thinks it's an objectively dumb idea. He helps Shadowheart fullfil Shar's trials despite the fact that her religion seems like absolute nonsense to him - he wants to make these people happy when there is nothing in it for him., and that's absolutely novel. He's also a slightly warmer person by then who is friendly to, like, half of the party.

By act 3, he's been inspired by Shadowheart's rebellion and is kind of mirroring that in his own way. He enjoys occasionally helping refugees in the outskirts of the city if for no other reason than to go against the grain - he develops a bit of a "fuck the rich" and a Stick It To The Man attitude that I think is inherit to the man that he is, and harkens back to his forgotten days of living-rough as a youth; when he would only enter cities to thieve or collect supplies and looked at the more privilege sects of society as weak and pompous. He lets Yenna into camp after she shows up because dude just loves an urchin, he tries to free the prisoners from the Iron throne and then help out the slaves at the Steel Watch Foundry, he gets Minsc back to afford Jaheira some peace of mind and doesn't hesitate to refuse his father's gift.

Besides Shadowheart's and Astarion's stories, I think learning that the bloodlust he thrived in was imposed upon him rather than organically acquired was what most sent DU drow into an identity crisis. The idea of doing things against his will unbeknownst to himself, or of being a pawn in an authority figure's game, is something that brought him equal amounts of shame and anger. It also triggers him to want to get in touch with the less violent side of himself - since, supposedly, that was actually all him - and leads him to want to do the best by all of his party members (to mixed results, considering Karlach's and Gale's fates) and establish the depth of his existing relationships.

...Ironically, I think being killed by Bhaal and then resurrected by Withers led him to slightly stray off that path of improvement. I mean, the TRUE evil's been banished! Now he can stop feeling guilt and shame and worry and just live his life COMPLETELY free from critical thought! Literally the first thing that he does upon waking up is declare that he's cured, and then announce that he's a blank slate - he isn't, and we all know that.

DU drow then proceeds to be confused as to why he still enjoys murder and mayhem for like 2 months, until Shadowheart and Astarion gently knock some sense into him (not by dissuading him from enjoying murder and mayhem - but recognizing that that's a part of him that wouldn't go away at the simple snap of a bony finger, and an urge that he has full control over.) Naturally, what Wither's did also did his invincibility complex no favors.

So... He really is kind of the same. He is slightly more in-touch with his own empathy and open to the pleasures of life, but his base personality has remained pretty intact - I would say he turns out to be what that young, lanky forest cryptid would have been all along, had Bhaal never entered the mix.

[hanbinniesmango]

zb1 top 3 kinks pls!!

zerobaseone’s top 3 kinks

—all my opinion 😓🫶🏾 (no gunwook or yujin!!)

jiwoong

primal play

i can just imagine jiwoong one night wanting to get some relief and the releasing all his emotions out onto you while you guys fuck, resulting in him growling, marking you, and saying things like, “you’re all mine you know that, hm? no one else can fuck this pretty pussy like me.” with a grunt. he’d just be going at it like an animal.

breeding kink

would imagine you all the time full of his cum, he loves keeping that image in his head while you fuck. when he actually can he honestly puts his all into it, he knows what he wants and he’s gonna get it.

impact play (f. receiving)

if you’re being bad, best believe he’s pulling you over his lap and pulling down you bottoms. likes to smack both cheeks until their red, sometimes slapping your pussy as well. it just brings him joy to see you writhe on his lap to no avail.

zhang hao

humiliation kink (m. receiving)

when you started calling him mean names one day he went silent. you thought you striked a nerve, but no. you had actually turned him on a lot. to the point where he felt himself getting hard, and once you figured it out a big grin hit your face. “you’re getting hard just from some words? fucking pathetic hao..” he wanted to open his mouth to complain and justify the situation, but instead he let out a slutty moan. let’s just say you used his weakness for the greater good..

bondage kink (m. receiving)

he loves the feels of the restraints straining against his flesh, the tight fabric refraining from letting him move and touch you. especially when you pull out a pretty color of ribbon and wrap him in it, it makes him feel so good.

somnophilia kink

you’ve both talked about fucking while asleep and giving your consents and everything and views on it, after that calling it a night. a while later you’re asleep and he’s really aroused for some reason, he turns over to you watching you in slumber, your chest slowly rising and falling. he exhales softly, biting his lip at the situation. next thing you know he’s slipping inside of you from behind and gently fucking into you, breaths quickening. he starts to lose himself pace getting a bit quicker. your slumber is interrupted, you waking up, pants heavy and soft moans coming out of you as you feel his cock slowly drag between you warm walls. “someone couldn’t wait til the morning hm?” you say before pushing your hips back on to his, you being met with a groan. you both made sure you spent the rest of the night going til you were satisfied.

hanbin

exhibition kink

he definitely gets off on knowing people could see them messing around at anytime. the type of guy who you play with you in a dressing room, smirking at any of your moans or groans saying, “you don’t wanna get caught right, lovebug?”

collar kink (f. + m. receiving)

he loves watching you sit pretty while he puts a collar on you, him giving you commands every now and then, the collar reminding you of your place and that you’re his. he watches as the the pendant on the collar glitters in the light when you suck him off, him biting his lip at the dirty situation, you both knowing how it gets him off.

dacryphilia kink

he’d see tears start pouring out of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, them coming out like a faucet. something in him clicks in him at that moment, suddenly he’s wanting to do more to get more of those sweet tears out. “does it feel that good, lovebug? poor baby…” he says with a little pout, kissing your tears away. “it’ll be over soon love, endure it for me.” he says with a gentle smirk, stroking your head before continuing with his thrusts, your continuous tears egging him on.

taerae

voyeur and or cuckholding kink

one day he came home earlier than usual, and called your name, but you didn’t answer as you usually do. once he found you he heard your soft whimpers and moans of his name. and he just had to watch you. even though everything said to just walk in, he liked looking through the crack of the door, something about it was just so naughty and addicting… with cuckholding, he was very open to the idea of one of his beloved members to fuck you and him spectating. when it did happen, believe he was rock hard the whole time.

cock worship

he loves the days when you both are just feeling romantic together, the days where you just let him sit back and you worship his pretty cock. he’s sitting back on the bed as you kiss softly all over his cock telling him how pretty it is, darting your tongue out to lick up any pre-cum that leaks from his tip. “f-fuck baby..feels s-so—good..” he says struggling to get all of his words out from the pleasure. he doesn’t tell you, but he really really loves when you treat him like this, makes him feel small and warm inside.

mutual masterbation

you both are away from each other one day and are both really horny, but can’t do much. you both find a solution and call and it ends up to you spread open in front of the phone camera and his cock out in the open, him stroking it slowly while giving you instructions. “finger yourself, slowly baby…fuck just like that..” he says pants getting breathy. he watches as you follow all of his intrusctions, you getting close him the same. he makes you hold it, a smile on his face while his groans at the pleasure coming with his hand. “damn baby..i’m getting c-close…” he says stuttering a bit. “cum with me baby, let go.” he says finally before giving a couple more strokes and spurting all over his hand with a choked moan.

matthew

praise kink (f. receiving)

when you suck of him off, he loves telling you how much of a good job you’re doing, smirking at the way you moan around his cock at the praise. always lets you know how much of a ‘good cock slut’ you are, no matter what. never lets up on teasing how you react to his words.

anal play

matthew would def trust you with stuff like this, it was actually something he wanted to try. when he finally gets toys in there he’s in heaven. he didn’t think it would feel as good as it is. when you start thrusting your strap inside of him hitting his prostate, he’s becoming a incoherent puddle. he’s gripping the sheets and everything, begging to have it harder, faster, whimpering and moaning loudly. even pushing his ass back when you try to slow down or stop. it feels so good he starts crying, when he finally gets to cum he’s crying out out of pleasure. he gets silent right after, you getting a little worried until he speaks up, “t-that was…c-can we go again?…please..” him panting whilst you send him a sweet smile and giggle.

orgasm control (m. + f. receiving)

matthew loves when you tease his cock, taking your hand away whenever he says he’s close. “just hold it matt, it’s not that hard, right?” you say while you stroke his hot, pulsing cock. all he can do is just whimper out and try his best not to cum, not knowing what could possible happen if he does. when it’s turned around he’s pulling the same move on you, laughing at your frustration. “i can’t be that hard, right?” he’s just sending you the cruelest smile, teasing you to no extent.

ricky

dollification

ricky loves seeing you get dumb on his cock, before you two fuck he puts you in the prettiest lingerie, pulling you in by the waist and whispering, “my needy little dolly looks so pretty, hm?” you just whining out in response. he praises you as he keeps pumping his cock inside of you, your expression the definition of cock drunk. none of you mind tho..

breath play

likes to wrap his pretty hands around your neck while fucking you, loves the feeling of you clenching on him whilst he does it. “you’re taking me so well baby…maybe i’ll let you breath as a reward.” him chuckling after the statement.

bondage kink (f. receiving)

he likes to wrap you up in the prettiest color of rope, he also has a thing with seeing you struggle, your frustration giving him more satisfaction. “stop moving or i’ll have to restrain you from cumming, doll.” he says with with the sweetest smile, his eyes the opposite, hunger and arousal burning in his eyes.

gyuvin

degradation kink (f. receiving)

he calls you the meanest names with the nicest smile on his face, and it still wrecks you. while you’re on your knees sucking his cock he’s still calling you those names, watching how you shudder with each name. “dirty cock sluts like you are meant to be on your knees like this. do what you’re good for baby..” he says with a pleasured groan.

edge play (f. receiving)

gyub will literally edge you from dusk to dawn, only letting up when he feels he’s had enough. you’re not done until he’s satisfied, and it takes a while. he’ll eat you out for the longest, his tongue hitting all the right spots, problem is he won’t let you cum. he’s told you to hold it until he lets you cum, but with the rate his tongue is ravaging you at, you might not be able to hold it any longer…

overstimulation kink (m. + f. receiving)

gyuvin loves to tease and torture you, either that’s him denying you an orgasm or giving you too many to handle. you’d beg him so bad for an orgasm, groaning in relief once he finally gives you one. suddenly when you expect him to stop, he’s still pleasuring you, you’re starting to be confused, pants getting heavier and cry’s getting louder. “g-gyub!! t-too—i-it’s too much!!” you sob out only being met with his menacing grin again.

[hitomisuzuya]

Can I PLEASE have some more Yan! Kunikuzushi? Preferably smut but no specific ideas, just more Yandere Kuni 🧎🏻🧎🏻🛐

Yandere! Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Biting/Marking. Bondage. Blindfold. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.

I am going back to giving my inbox attention now. I am always surprised when my Yandere stuff hits so well.

Kunikuzushi was trembling with urgency above you. His elegant fingers pumped in and out of your creamy cunt, his tongue prodded at a fold of inflamed skin in his mouth. Your eyes were covered, and your wrists tied above your head to the headboard purely for selfish reasons.

He craved to see you completely relying on him. Needed to see you struggle to reach out for him, to grip his wrist while he fucked his fingers inside you, reach to press to mouth down onto your neck while you cried about how good his fingers were making you feel.

Tears burned in your eyes behind the blindfold, your walls clenching tight around Kunikuzushi's fingers as he nudged them over and over again into your sweet spot. Teeth sucking and biting at your neck, occasionally grinding against an already forming or existing bruises sending shivers of pleasure right to your throbbing clit.

"Everyone has to see," He mumbled against your neck like a mantra, "everyone needs to know you belong to me," You cried out as he sped up the pace of his fingers. That was a sure sign that he was ready to move onto another spot on your body.

"K-Kuni!" Your cry of his name sounds so sweet to him, your thrashes of pleasure made his cock strain harder in his shorts.

Kunikuzushi is always reeling that he was making you feel this good, forcing you to feel every stretch and rub of his relentless fingers. He scissored his fingers, firmly curling them into your sweet spot. He is chasing the ecstasy of single minded obsession.

You.

The fold of skin left his mouth with a wet pop, the squelching noise coming from your pussy abating as he withdrew his fingers. He sat back, allowing you catch your breath as he admired his work. Admire the canvas that belonged to him, the bruises forming dark and possessive on your pretty skin. Admire how defenseless and weak you look tied up for him.

Kunikuzushi licked his fingers, his eyes darting over your body. He was making his decisions carefully. The places that people could see were the most important. There could be no doubt you belonged to him.

Next to your throat was looking too unmarked for his liking. This was also for the good of everyone around you, though he really didn't give a shit if anyone added to the already existing body count. Kunikuzushi was going to be more damned than he already felt if anyone got in his way.

It would be a cold day in hell before anyone could even think of taking you away from him. However, you of course would never know that "disappearances" were because of him. People thought he was a monster already. So what if they suspected him of something that was true.

He wouldn't lie to you if you flat out asked him if it was true. He knew your loyalty to him was so deeply rooted that you wouldn't leave him.

It was time to get back to work, and spiral you further into the grips of pleasure. Pleasure that only he could provide for you.

"You are mine," He plunged his fingers back into your messy pussy, groaning from how instantly your juices soaked onto his wrist. "You are all mine," His mouth found the desired spot next to your throat.

Your throat was the golden area for him to mark. Anyone with half a brain could recognize it is the most dominant, intimate place to mark.

Your whole body twitched with pleasure, sensory deprivation making you feel twice as sensitive. Kunikuzushi rutted his aching cock against your thigh. How precious you look rocking your hips up into his fingers, straining at the rope around your wrist as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your throat.

"Kuni! Kuni, I'm going to cum!" You managed to moan between broken cries and whimpers of pleasure. Your eyes squeezed tight shut behind the blindfold. "Please don't stop!" Your walls squeezed tight around his fingers, your orgasm threatening to break apart in dizzying proportions.

Kunikuzushi laughed shakily hearing your cries of pure ecstasy. The ball joint on his thumb allowed him to circle your clit with it while he fingered you. He growled against your throat.

The blindfold over your eyes concealed the twisted, devoted smirk that spread across his face. Why not push you further to your limits? "Beg for it," He simply said, adding a third finger.

[kaiserposting]

My Worries Come in Phallic, Freudian Shapes

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2k TYPE: Established Relationship, It's basically just Kaiser tweaking for no reason 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ (I find it funny but interpretations may vary) WARNING(S): Kaiser's overactive imagination?

Kaiser would like to say he’s quite numb to being separated from you. Sometimes you come along with him at away games, if possible, but in other instances you have to be apart sometimes even for months, and Kaiser likes to think he manages it well.

You’re not on his mind much when he’s training or during a game. Mostly his times of weakness happen outside of that, though Kaiser doesn’t let it get to him. For example, he does this fun exercise where if his mind strays towards you too often or when he can sense the void in his chest is beginning to take on a suspicious shape, he holds out on texting or calling you for as long as possible. To test his will — which is something normal people do like all the time, of course — and because wanting to distract himself gives him extra neurotic energy to burn when he’s doing his exercises.

Not that Kaiser becomes neurotic over you or anything. It’s not even a big deal to him.

He’s sure you miss him more than he misses you. He’s confident you do. After all, to him, it’s no big deal, as previously stated. It’s true.

He doesn’t worry about small and nonsensical things like how you’d probably prefer a more present and available boyfriend, and how you’re free to do whatever you want with remarkable ease when you’re seas and oceans away from him.

Kaiser’s eye twitches while he continues shoving the last of his belongings back into his luggage, since he needs to pack for his flight back home. This train of thought isn’t going anywhere good — he needs to abandon it. Besides, a second with Michael Kaiser is worth way more than a month with some stupid, worthless commoner. Your shitty replacement for him will never rival the real deal.

No, this is stupid. You love him, you don’t have a replacement for him. Right? You wouldn’t betray him while he’s away. You’re his first and only love, you can’t do that to him, can you? You know he’d kill you if you did it and he found out, don’t you?

This is stupid. He wouldn’t kill you! Kaiser doesn’t want to kill you. He should stop thinking about this… You wouldn’t do it to him either anyway, you love him back. Kaiser knows you do, so why does it not feel real most of the time?

What if you’ve fallen out of love with him, though? Maybe you look forward to when he has to go away for long. Forget all about him the moment he’s out of your sight, don’t spare him a single thought, have fun with your little friends while he’s gone, all that.

You probably get together and you start shit-talking him with them the way people do about their good for nothing boyfriends sometimes. They call his haircut stupid and you cackle along with them, then you tell them how insecure and unlovable he really is, and actually his dad beat him as a child so now he’s barely human, how it makes him an arrogant and pretentious piece of trash pretender, and then you’re like ‘I wish I had a normal boyfriend instead of Michael’, and they’re all like ‘you deserve a normal boyfriend, this is fucked up’, and you’re empowered to free yourself of your burden. So he comes back home and you pick him up from the flight and you break the news to him that you’re leaving him and he has to move his belongings back to his place.

Maybe you have a new fling already, but it’s nothing serious because you still need to dump Kaiser and all. And he’s like in finances or something, an accountant maybe, who works normal hours (not the overachieving workaholic type who stays behind to do extra), and he probably doesn’t have footage of him having meltdowns on live TV for everyone to see. There are no interviews where he’s acting bitchy, no compilations of him acting cruel or ‘crashing out’ or whatever else. And he probably grew up in an average household — they weren’t rich or anything, but his parents made time for him. They were loving and nurtured him to be a rightful member of society, raising him to be someone worth your affection…

Holy shit does Kaiser feel unhinged. Literally why is he making up this entire story in his head? It never happened.

It didn’t, right? You wouldn’t do it to him, would you? You love him. You really, really, really love him, like from the bottom of your heart, somehow you love him and you don’t want to hurt him, even if you’re probably sick of him being away and of his problems and his attitude and his everything. If you had a magic wand, he wagers you’d wave it and change him on a neurochemical level, keep his looks and his successes, but get rid of the unnecessary baggage.

Or would you keep him as he is and love that ugly thing? Can you? Do you have it in you? Are you just tolerating him for some monetary benefits or out of pity with your knowledge of his past? Do you still love him? Will you love him a few hours from now or are you going to get bored? Are you bored and antsy waiting for him and is it affecting your feelings, suffocating your love to zero each moment he’s not by your side, each reunion only serving to put off the inevitable? Is the novelty wearing off? Do you need novelty?

Kaiser fights off the impulse to write you a text message threatening suicide and then turning off his phone until the end of the flight to keep you on your toes. A flashy move in attention seeking for sure, but for one you don’t even know he’s in a mind war with you, so you’re more likely to be confused than begging for him not to do it and for his forgiveness, though maybe it could earn him a reassurance of love and care. Regardless, Kaiser is not taking the chance because if you ignore him or don’t see the message it’ll just devastate him.

And also he kind of doesn’t want to act like that. Well, he does, but the rational part of him is also still awake and holding him back. You won’t appreciate that. Right now the strife he’s going through is completely imaginary, but if he goes and acts crazy outside the confines of his mind, he really might fuck everything up.

If he makes too many mistakes, you might fall out of love with him, and if you fall out of love with him, you’ll leave him. Kaiser thinks about what he’d do in that case. Without you he is nothing besides an unwanted waste of breath — you’re the sole person who got close enough to see beneath his nonsense and decide to tolerate it, attracted beyond frivolity for an enigmatic reason.

Maybe the perpetrator behind this strange limbo of weird hysteria is Kaiser’s low self-esteem. It always circles back to that and he is sick of it. He doesn’t understand why you subject yourself to him and here, a whole ordeal.

Whatever anymore. Kaiser doesn’t even care. It’s a pointless matter to lose his mind over. He knows you cherish him, and even if you didn’t, he’d get over it. Life moves on. There are other fish in the sea…

Actually, if you tried to leave him, Kaiser has so many things he would do, they’d earn him a restraining order. First he’d resort to begging and ugly crying, but he doubts it’d sway you. He’d need to be more extreme.

No, that’s silly. If you separated, he’d react to it like a normal person, right? He wouldn’t do a thing. He’d let you leave without any theatrics and move on. Right? It’s what he would do, Kaiser decides.

Or maybe he can get a leg up on you and catch you out when you begin losing interest in him and he can work to win you back over. You won’t even know what hit you. Yea, Kaiser will scheme to sweep you off your feet.

Not that he cares that much to put so much effort in… It’s just his strength and natural calling as an unbothered male manipulator.

___

After the packing and the waiting at the airport and all that, Kaiser survives a restless flight. He tried to read a book during it, but he turned out not to enjoy it whatsoever (catastrophe). Then he turned to Gesner, who was sitting next to him and seemed like he wanted to kill himself, and told him in detail about all the plot problems and why this was what made nonfiction superior.

To Gesner’s relief Kaiser also spent a good chunk of it trying to sleep, though the endeavor was useless. He closed his eyes and his pattern of anxious cyclical thinking continued and he failed to doze off. What do you think about accountants? Maybe your side piece wouldn’t have any tattoos because you secretly find his corny and you’ve sworn off tattooed men. ‘I mean, seriously, just put the eyeliner on like a real man.’ Kaiser would bet this is what you’re saying to your friends.

Anyway, again, his flight was spent stirring in ridiculous thoughts in that vein. If nothing else, actually, if you knew what was running through his head, that would be what would put you off of him. But you don’t. He needs to just… keep it to himself and it’ll be fine.

So you find each other after some stumbling and chaos and some vague text exchanges like ‘where are you?’, ‘At the airport obviously’, ‘you think you’re so funny’, and so on, and when you spot each other, you grin upon the sight of him (hard to fake such immediate happiness, Kaiser concludes) and spread your arms out for a hug.

Kaiser rolls his eyes. You’re so cute, he wants to squeeze you to death, but regardless he puts on a big show of what an inconvenience this is and gives you a stiff, nonchalant embrace. The way you hold him is a small reassurance. You’re still in public though, so he needs to play it cool for a bit longer, and he reluctantly peels himself away from you.

You interrogate him about his time away while he’s your passenger princess on the way home. Kaiser takes it as a good sign you’re still interested in his life at least enough to ask, as if there was a possibility he was going to come back and you just… wouldn’t give a fuck about him or what he’s been up to. He keeps his answers vague, trying not to let on the almost daily mental torment he’s been subjecting himself to just because his brain can’t stop making up stupid narratives.

Once you two arrive, and only when you’re inside, does Kaiser give into his desire for your affection. He wraps you up in a way tighter embrace without intention of letting go and peppers your face in kisses.

The first time he acted like that with you upon coming back, you were rightfully weirded out, but now you’re used to this whole routine and let him have his moment of rare forwardness.

“You know,” he says, “I missed you like, a little bit.”

“It’s hard to tell,” you say, sarcastic.

Kaiser ignores it. He bites your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt at all, but it’s a strange sensation.

“So gross.”

“I hope you weren’t doing anything stupid without me. I wouldn't want to miss out on any fun.”

“I wasn’t.”

“What do you think about accountants?”

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, but humor him anyway. “Can’t say I think anything in particular about them.”

“Is that so…”

For some reason, you find his tone to sound suspicious? There is a harder bite — your skin might be a bit irritated around there for a few minutes. You wonder if Kaiser was arguing with management or something somewhere abroad.

___

I just wrote this because I thought Kaiser having emotional impermanence (which is likely) would be hilarious I promise I'll write a more plot-oriented one shot soon again

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

004 》 HAN JISUNG

you needed a night out, you needed to have fun— at least that’s what yunho told you. when chan invites your group to a music festival where his curly headed roommate would also be, will it be what you need to get you back on track? or will you start from square one, again?

wc 15.5k my bad y’all its getting serious now | drinking, smoking, kissing, suggestive, music festival vibes, sadness, tiny gets fucked up. vomit but not descriptive. hanjis sexy

“have you guys ever thought about your wedding?” 

of course you thought about getting married, your wedding, every little girl does— walking down the aisle next to her father, meeting the love of her life at the altar… all of it seemed so futile after your father passed, you haven’t thought about it as a true reality since then, more of a pipedream.

you didn’t know if you were simply driving yourself insane or if you really were obsessed with mingyu, but every single waking thought you’ve had since saturday was about getting married, knowing you were nowhere near that stage of your life but for some reason… questioning it. maybe even excited for it. 

everything with mingyu has felt meant to be so far… maybe it was.

the entire table looked at you in silence– eight pupils staring into your soul, wondering where the fuck that came from. yunho was quick to shut you down. 

“i don’t even want to ask, tiny.”

“i’m serious! have you even considered what you’d want in a partner? what your wedding would look like?” you were in dreamland, sparkles in your eyes and everything as you stared up at the high ceilings of your kitchen. yeosang and san had brought over dinner, which led to the five of you seated on barstools around your kitchen island in silence, up until now. 

“sexy and rich,” yeosang didn’t even look up, mouth full as he digged deeper into his meal. 

san nodded in agreement– “my wedding will be big enough to make everyone attending jealous, small enough to make others wish they were invited.”

“you’re both shallow,” you grumble, picking at your plate, moving your food around. you glance at your twin, “ace, what about you? do you think reia’s the one?” 

ace lets out a nervous chuckle, one that sounds exactly like yours, “i– uh, maybe. possible.”

you pop a brow, sitting back in your stool, straightening your back. you weren’t the only one that picked up on it, the entire table noticed his shift in energy, the change in tone. yunho asks, “what’s going on?”

ace groans in defeat when there was never an argument to begin with, elbows hitting the granite, palms digging into his eyes. “i think reia’s going to break up with me.” 

“why?” your voice is loud, surprised. you take it down a notch, “what happened?” 

he leans back, moving his hands away from his face and you notice that he looks tired. bags under his eyes, his skin looked dull, his freckles weren’t freckling like they usually did. you blamed it on school and the stress he’d been under– you didn’t think reia had anything to do with it. last time you checked, how ace felt about reia is how you felt about mingyu. 

“she’s been saying shit like how i’m not giving her enough attention, not seeing her enough, all i care about is school and when i’m not doing homework i’m with you guys,” he huffs, his voice sounding weak now that he’s finally admitting it. 

“why doesn’t she come hangout with us?” yeosang asked, but you were sure that’s what you were all thinking. “she’s usually here all the time, and your workload for school hasn’t changed.”

“i guess she’s been feeling this way for awhile,” ace stretched his arms over his head, lifting his eyebrows, expression saying he’s had this conversation already– with her. “we don’t have enough one on one time.”

yunho leans over the counter, palm holding up his baseball cap covered head, “get an airbnb for a weekend, take her somewhere nice, just the two of you. she’s probably feeling underappreciated and overwhelmed with her own schoolwork.” 

“that’s actually a good idea,” ace marvels, a semblance of light returning to his eyes, “you’re so good with girls, bro. incredible how you’re still single.” 

yunho smiles, “incredible how i manage to fight ‘em off me.” 

yeosang rolls his eyes, “can we circle back to why teens is asking about marriage?” 

“no,” the three boys say in unison, all eyes landing on yeosang.

“okay, fine, riddle me this,” yeosang sits a little straighter, index finger pointing to the air in front of him, “tiny, whose never gone on a date before a month ago, shows up to dinner with her prehistoric boyfriend and starts talking about marriage. no one wants to ask any questions?” 

you gasp, “yeosang! he is not—”

“that’s actually a good point,” san shrugs, “we haven’t talked about him yet.”

“how old is he anyways?” yunho asks, both elbows on the table now, long fingers folded over one another on the top of his palms. 

your cheeks flush, near mumbling as you redirect your attention back to the food in front of you, hoping no one notices the warmth on your skin. you were waiting for this question, scared of this question. “thirty.” 

“tiny.” ace’s tone is firm, disappointed even if he only said your name— the underlying message is clear to you. you break your staring contest with your plate to look up to him, there are a million words on his tongue, but he says none of them. 

your face burned in embarrassment, you were scrambling for something to say, small tuts leaving your lips instead. you didn’t know how to defend it, defend him— you were still debating it yourself. they didn’t know this was currently a sensitive topic, that you’d been non stop questioning your relationship with mingyu for almost forty eight hours, worried that it won’t work out because of that very reason. 

san giggles, “we knew you had daddy issues, teens, would’ve never expected you to fuck someone old enough to be one. props to you, actually.” 

your world went silent, the insult flipping a switch within you. your train of thought skipped right past anger to hurt, tears quickly filling your eyes. you fled from the kitchen— two palms flat on the granite countertop pushed you off of your stool, legs racing through your hallway. you only heard yunho scold san with a stern drag of his name as your legs took you to up your bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

that wasn’t the conversation you intended to open by asking that question. you were once again putting your foot in your mouth, regretting sharing your thoughts, it was as if san had that statement locked and loaded–– ready to hit its target. your boys had always said whatever they thought, feelings be damned, you forgot how much it hurt to be on the receiving end. 

it felt like you were younger when they’d tease you relentlessly, only stopping when ace made them. you haven’t felt that way in a long time, their teasing now was lighthearted, and you did it right back— it’s been years since you’ve been in tears in your bedroom over something one of the boys said. 

as you laid on your back, sprawled across your mattress, you began to think, and what san said started to make more and more sense as you thought about it. daddy issues— your tears dried without you noticing. mingyu’s age, his career, his stability, the pet names, how he took care of you already, his dominating nature that ‘only came out with you… you ate up every moment— you loved it, even. 

but it was all because of one thing, and as much as you hated it, san hit it right on the money. 

“teens?” he spoke before he knocked, three rhythmic taps of his knuckles against your door. 

“go away, yunho,” you frown, turning on your side with your back facing the door even if he couldn’t see you. 

“let me in,” he urged, you could see his scowl through the wooden slab that separated you. “i’m sorry for what san said– san is sorry for what he said. please let me talk to you.”

you sighed, you knew he wouldn’t go away, he’d sit there until you opened up whether that be in one hour or six. you got up, unlocking your door, but you didn’t open it. you let him open it himself as he followed you inside your room, you plopped onto your bed lifelessly, your body a dead weight. he followed you, sitting at the foot of your bed, resting a hand on your ankles that laid one over the other. 

“he shouldn’t of said that,” yunho started, “it was fucked up. he crossed a line.” 

“he’s right,” your throat constricted, words fighting their way through. your words become quieter, a strain on your vocal chords, “i thought mingyu was perfect.”

“what did i tell you?” yunho leaned across your legs so he could see your face that was laid on the pillow. you looked down at him as he said, “you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important.” 

you blinked, tears returning to you, filling up your waterline. “he does all of those things, he makes me feel that way, and now i’m supposed to be normal when i know the only reason i feel this way about him is because my dad is dead? because matt fucking sucks?”

yunho purses his lips, his body stiffening on top of your legs. “tiny, there’s eight years between you. he’s fooling around with you, it’s not right.”

“i know our age difference already!” your voice raises, “he’s done everything right, yunho. you don’t know him, you didn’t even try to get to know him when he was here, instead you sulked in your bad mood like a child. what was that even about?” 

“don’t get pissed at me because of something san said,” he sits up, his weight lifted from your legs, his eyes looking everywhere but at you as he continues. “i was just in a bad mood saturday, it wasn’t about anything.” 

“you’re lying, jeong yunho. you forget that i know you,” you sit up, too, facing him feet apart on your mattress. he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, he wasn’t expecting you to call him out.

“you’re missing the point,” he sighs, looking down at your mattress, reining in the topic at hand. “i don’t know him, but i don’t need to. eight years of life is longer than you think, he knows a lot more than you, you just started going on dates. you don’t know anything, tiny.” 

“i know enough,” you shake your head, “i know that i like him a lot and that’s enough for me.” 

“so what, you want to be married within the next two years?” he looked back up to you, his face was unreadable, but his voice was firm, truthful. he meant every word he said. “miss out on being in your twenties? miss out on dating? learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things. learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?” 

you blink, “is that why you’re single? experiencing life, dating around, fucking who you please because you can? sounds boring to me.” your words are curt, intended to sting. “i’d much rather learn and experience with someone, grow together as a unit.”

“be realistic, think like you’re twenty two, not like you’re still seventeen,” he bites, sending the sting right back to you. after a moment’s pause, he speaks, his voice soft. “i’m single because i’m waiting.”

“for what?” you ask, eyebrows knitted together, tears still dancing down your cheeks. “how do you know? …what you’re waiting for?” 

“it’s not for what, tiny— it’s for who.”

──────  ꨄ︎

“i have an idea,” chan was smiling ear to ear, you wondered if the two of you would ever pay attention to your lecture again, two weeks in a row spent talking the entire class. “me and my roommates are going to a music festival this weekend, you should come.”

your lips form a line, “chan, if this is about–”

“hear me out!” he interjects, a finger coming up between you, silencing you. you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms as he continues. “i know you’re seeing someone, but this will get jisung off my back and you can get a feel for him without making it an actual thing.”

seeing someone feels sour, you ignore it— “okay, let me hear your plan.”

“it’s a music festival, so it’s not like it’s some private, real date like going to dinner or something. you can bring your friends, i’ll be with mine, we can meet up and it can be a group thing so you have people to hangout with if you aren’t into hanji,” he raises his eyebrows with a smile as he awaited your response, “not bad, right?”

you think about it for a second– it’s not a terrible idea, and you did owe chan for your own date with him. you nod, “when is it?”

“saturday, i’ll text you the link for tickets. me and my three roommates are going, jisung jihoon and jeongin, everybody’s single,” he winks, “they’re all music people.”

“and all of their names start with J,” your eyebrows furrow, “how did you manage that?”

he shrugs, “me and jisung were roommates, jeongin and jihoon were roommates, we got an apartment together sophomore year and it just happened to be that way. i’m the only non-music major and the only one whose name doesn’t start with a J,” he brings his attention to his laptop, pulling up the website for the music festival. 

“it’s all weekend long, you probably don’t want to go all weekend so just come for one day,” he says, pulling up the lineup on the screen. you scan the list and you know several artists, it seems fun, and the idea was well thought out. it wasn’t necessarily a date, but instead a place you would just happen to be at together– you would barely have to talk to jisung if you didn’t want to. 

you didn’t have to tell mingyu, either— not that he’d have an issue if you did. being wednesday now, you haven’t seen him since sunday morning, and since monday night… there was no way he couldn’t tell something was off. where you were usually bubbly on the phone with him, over text, you’d turn monotonous without even realizing. the whole relationship began to feel stale after what san said, after your talk with yunho. you weren’t sure if any of your feelings were legitimate anymore.

chan texts you the link and you immediately send it to your groupchat, telling the boys to clear their schedules and to buy their tickets (you tell san to get one for you, too. he owes you). you were met with no pushback, all of the boys agreeing except ace— he was taking reia away for the weekend, using yunho’s idea. 

“i’m so excited,” chan beams, scrolling through the website, “it’s really cool, we’ve gone every year since we started here. tell your friends that my roommates are single.”

“i’ve never been to a music festival before, just random concerts here and there. you’ll have to show us etiquette,” you snicker when you realize exactly what he’s implying with his roommates— you didn’t think any of your three boys had gotten any in awhile. “i will definitely let them know.” 

as you walked out of class and into the brisk, october air, a certain car stuck out like a sore thumb in the parking lot. sitting idly and illegally was a BMW pulled up beside the curb, closest to the building of your class— completely blacked out, tinted windows with a gold seventeen decal on the back window on the driver’s side… that car belonged to one person and one person only.

he stepped out of his car as soon as you walked out of the building, dressed in all black business casual attire, sunglasses on his face. you bid chan goodbye without as much as a glance, feet drifting toward mingyu so fluidly and without thought you could’ve been floating all over again. maybe he did cast a spell on you.

mingyu stepped around the vehicle to open his passenger side door, greeting you with a smile, “hey, princess.” he kissed you on the head before you slid into the seat, the smell of his cologne and fresh leather hitting your nose as he shut the door behind you. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked as he got into the driver’s seat, putting the car into reverse. you began feeling awkward, confused, your talk with yunho came to mind again– mingyu’s presence made it too easy to forget all of your worries. 

“don’t sound too excited, i’m taking you to lunch,” he shot you a tight lipped smile as he put his car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“mingyu,” you breathed with a small shake of your head. you hadn’t even gotten all of your thoughts in order, you wanted to wait before you talked to him, you knew it was coming eventually— he did, too. 

“don’t say anything,” he kept his gaze on the road in front of him, the sun shining through his windshield, kissing his soft, golden skin. he let his hand fall to your thigh. “just… let me do this.” 

“okay,” you said, flushing as the weight of his palm hit your skin. electricity shot through you every time you were with him, every time he touched you— it had to mean something. 

or did you just want it to? 

he pulled into the parking lot of a diner, a small one near your campus. you loved diners, you used to go with your family growing up once a week— every sunday morning, stopping shortly after you turned twelve. your blood thrummed in excitement under your skin. 

you sat in a booth, a quietness consuming the two of you, you thought maybe he didn’t know what to say— you definitely didn’t. mingyu broke the silence first. 

“you want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“there’s nothing to tell, nothing going on, i mean,” you barely looked up from your menu when you knew what you wanted to order in the parking lot. how do you tell someone that the only reason you’re interested in them is because you’re wired to? 

he sighed, laying his menu down on the table. the waitress comes and takes your orders, leaving you to silence once again. 

“the only way this is going to work is if you’re honest,” his voice is more serious than it usually is. you have nothing to hold in your hands anymore— it feels like you’re back at that expensive restaurant when mingyu first brought you on an impromptu lunch date. you feel exposed.

you run a hand through your hair, “i don’t know, mingyu.” you pause, then internally said fuck it. “you said you won’t rush anything with me, but what if i’m just holding you back?” 

“how would you be holding me back?” his eyes were full of concern as he leaned forward, arms folding across the table. 

“you’re thirty, ready to get married, start a family,” you shake your head, “i’m not even close to being there yet.” 

“i met you two weeks ago,” a chuckle leaves his lips, trying to relieve the tension brought by your statement, “why is that on your mind?” 

“you shouldn’t be wasting your time, mingyu. you’re fooling around with a twenty two year old,” your own words weren’t leaving your lips— they were yunho’s. 

“fooling around?” his eyes were raised as if you insulted him. “if i was fooling around i wouldn’t have made so much of an effort. wouldn’t have cooked for you, met your family, i would’ve fucked you the day i met you and never spoken to you again.” 

the gears turn in your head, he said it so simply, you knew it was to help put you at ease— it hurt instead. he continues, “i’ve been serious about you since the day you met me for lunch. i like you.” 

“and what happens when you meet someone who’s ready?” you bite, your brain swirling with mingyu’s testimony but also the advice from your twin. “if your ex comes back to this side of the country, if you meet someone who doesn’t have a dead dad, someone actually meant for you.” 

mingyu laughs— the chuckle was not out of amusement, it was dry and venomous and knowing. “there it is.” 

“what?” you ask, shifting in the old leather booth as if you were in the hot seat. 

“they got into your head, didn’t they?” he shakes his head, a sarcastic smile on his face, “i knew they didn’t like me, your friends, your brother— you would never say that on your own.” 

“nobody ‘got to me’, mingyu,” you argue, your fingers twisting on the table between you because they did get to you and you know that, but you think they might be right. “how do you know what i would say and wouldn’t say? like you said, we met two weeks ago.”

his face hits his palms as he sighs, they slide over his skin in frustration, “was it yunho?” 

“what?” your back presses against the cushion of the booth, “was what yunho?” 

the waitress brings your food to the table, halting your conversation or argument. a part of you wanted to thank her for cutting you off, you didn’t know if you wanted him to continue— not when yunho was brought into the conversation. he did, though, as soon as she walked away from the table. 

he cut into his meal– “yunho doesn’t like me.”

“he has never once said that, mingyu,” you respond, cutting into your french toast. diners were best for all day breakfast.

“he doesn’t need to,” he was smiling again, not out of happiness, you couldn’t place his emotions based on his face. his words didn’t match it. “game’s game. this whole conversation is ridiculous, can’t you see that?” 

“what are you talking about?” your eyebrows blend together, so furrowed in confusion you were sure you looked animated, “what am i not seeing?” 

“it’s besides the point,” he pays attention to his food again, his tone laced with irritation. “i like you, i’ve been trying to be consistent with showing how much i like you— how much i want to do this the right way.” 

“i understand if you think we can’t be together because of our age, because of your past, things out of your control, but i want you to know that i don’t agree. i don’t think any of that should be used to factor whether we work or not because i think we work really well.” 

“i think we get along really well, too,” you said, sounding like you were the one trying to convince him now – you snapped yourself back into reality, what you felt, what you knew, not the bubble mingyu put you in. “in the long run i… mingyu i don’t know if i’m ready for all of this.”

“all of what?” he was getting frustrated now, furrowed brows and a tight jaw, “i haven’t tried to take this even one step further. are you scared of what it could turn into?”

“yes, it feels real,” you shake your head, “it feels really real.”

“in any other situation that’d be a good thing,” he takes a hand through his hair, sitting back in the booth, “maybe you’re right. too young, i guess.”

regret washes over you like a bucket of cold water, but you don’t falter in your words, reciting them from someone else’s mouth. “eight years is a lot longer than i thought it was, you know more than i do– i just started dating.”

he nods, lips pursed, but he says nothing for a few moments. you stare at him with flushed cheeks, an uneasiness sitting at the pit of your stomach. it was fight or flight, and there’s nowhere to run– literally. 

“finish your meal and i’ll take you back to campus,” you couldn’t read his tone, but it was definitely not happy. 

like you always did with mingyu, whether you wanted to or it was installed in you, you obeyed. you spent the rest of your meal wishing you could say something else, words at the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t find the voice to say. he paid for your meal, a gentleman until the end, and drove you back to campus. 

“before you go, can i just say one thing?” he says as he turns to you, flipping his sunglasses on top of his head. you nod. 

“you don’t have to listen to them,” he says and your mouth parts to speak, but he cuts you off. “you may think they know everything about you because you grew up with them, but they don’t know how you feel. they don’t know my intentions for you, they don’t know how much i like you.”

“i know you’ve been through a lot in your life and they were there for you every step of the way, but i’d treat you so fucking well. i would never pressure you into marriage, or having kids or whatever worries have been put into your pretty little brain. i’d do whatever you wanted– if you wanted to travel, i’d take you on trips, we could explore every little school on the opposite side of the world. if you wanted to open your own damn school, i’d do that with you, i’d help you. i don’t want you to walk away with the idea that i’m not the one for you— we both know this would’ve worked if you let it.” 

jaw slack and eyes filled with tears, you stared at him. you blinked once, twice, then your lips were on his before you could even process that you had moved an inch. 

you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important. 

isn’t that what this is? isn’t this what you’ve been looking for? your brain whirled, mingyu’s tongue licking into your mouth, his huge palms holding your wet cheeks. 

learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things.

tears flowed down your skin, onto mingyu’s fingers, he just kissed you harder. 

learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?

there was only one way this could end– you needed it to end, now, or else you’d never leave his car. you pulled away from mingyu, wide eyed and so fucking confused. you hated yourself in this moment– it felt like being pulled into your living room when mingyu was in your kitchen. being pulled towards comfort and familiarity, when what your future could be was waiting for you, missing you, hoping you’d stay. 

“i’m sorry,” was all you could get out before you were pushing the car door open and racing towards your own.

──────  ꨄ︎

figuring out an outfit for a music festival was hard to begin with, you had too many factors adding onto it that made the task a thousand times worse. you could barely get yourself out of bed this morning for starters, you hopped in the shower half past eleven when you needed to leave at one. because it was late october and most music festivals were held in the summer, even pinterest wasn’t helping you with inspiration. on top of that, having three men in your bedroom without a lick of a feminine fashion sense made it borderline overstimulating, they threw ideas at you while their outside clothes laid all over your unmade bed– it tipped you over the edge. the only good part was that it’s cold outside. 

you went casual– you needed to, you’d be outside for hours and alcohol can only heat you up so much. baggy jeans, a hoodie and an oversized jacket on top, you accessorized with a baseball cap and some sneakers and you were set. a mini purse with nothing but your ID and some lip gloss sat on your shoulder, sunglasses on your face, you’d be warm, comfortable and cute. 

when you walked downstairs to the three boys sitting in your living room, you realized you were all wearing different versions of the same outfit. you copied them without even realizing– naturally, they noticed, and had plenty to say about it. you didn’t care enough to change. 

the drive to the festival wasn’t terrible, little traffic until you got closer to the venue, yunho drove with loud music playing through the speakers and the other two singing along in the backseat. when you arrived, you immediately sent a text to chan letting him know you arrived.

“i want a drink,” you said as soon as you walked through security, yunho on your left and the other two on your right. “who’s paying for it?” 

“why can’t you pay for it? you should buy us drinks,” yeosang huffed, digging his hands further into his pockets. 

“you’re in the clear,” you moved a little closer to yeosang, bumping your shoulder against his. “i didn’t bring money, the other two are responsible for ruining my relationship with mingyu, so they get to buy my drinks all night.” 

san gasps, “i am not responsible–” 

“surfside?” yunho asks, eyes already scanning the area for the nearest bar, not wanting to begin that conversation again. his figure stood over the massive crowd already formed around you, your group definitely did not get there early. 

“yes, please,” a small smile sat on your face as you followed yunho towards the nearest bar, pleased with how quickly he agreed, he bought drinks for the two of you– leaving san and yeosang to fend for themselves. 

san grumbles, “you should buy me a drink for how mean you’ve been.” 

you point your eyes at him and he shrinks under your gaze, voice growing small as he said, “i’ll buy the next round.” 

you walked through the crowd, so many different kinds of people surrounded you. a range of ages, dressed in clothes much more appropriate for a music festival than yours. the energy of the space was so bright, so welcoming, it was beckoning your mood to brighten– you wished you could let it. 

you stayed close to at least one of the three, keeping your eyes peeled under your sunglasses for a blonde boy no taller than five foot eight. he was nowhere to be found, as you assumed since the venue was so massive. you walked up to the first stage, the main stage which was one you wanted to see, a small indie band. you knew some songs, but you wouldn’t know an entire setlist– the show you really wanted to see wasn’t until later. 

being after three and you hadn’t ingested anything other than your morning (afternoon) coffee, the surfside you had taken about four sips of was already going straight to your head. you wore a disinterested look even though the stage was good, the band was putting on a great show, you’ve been miserable since wednesday. you missed mingyu, even if your time together was short– you figured that you might be perpetually stuck between if your choice was right or if you regret it completely. 

“drummer’s hot,” yeosang comes to your side, bumping his shoulder into yours again. 

you shoot him a tight lipped smile, “he’s alright.” 

“bro, cheer up,” he frowns, “if you were normal you’d be drooling over him right now.” 

you roll your eyes, “cheer me up instead of complaining, then.” 

“where’s the whiskey date guy? aren’t we supposed to be meeting up with him?” yeosang asks and you pull out your phone from your pocket, four texts from chan filling your screen. 

chan: UR HERE!!!! chan: wya

chan: hello

chan: were going to the main stage meet us there

already being at the main stage, you typed back a quick response then looked around through your shaded lenses, the blonde nowhere to be found. you nudged yunho’s side, asking him to look for chan instead, he could see a lot better than you could. as he looked out into the crowd farther than your eyes could see, chan found you first. 

“hey!” you heard to your left, a voice that belonged to the one you were searching for. you whipped your head around, a genuine smile surprising you as it filled out your cheeks, waving him over. 

“you found me! i just texted you back,” you said as he wrapped you into a short hug of greeting. 

he stepped back, looking around you, “where are your friends?” 

“here?” you said with eyebrows raised, yeosang, san and yunho coming forward to stand at your sides. “this is san, yeosang and yunho.” 

“oh,” a questioning look grew on his face, then he stepped closer to you, speaking quieter so only you could hear. “when i said bring your friends, i was not expecting a bunch of…dudes?” 

you giggled, “surprised i’m not with a group of girls?”

“for some reason, it explains a lot,” he shrugs and you raise your eyebrows, asking him to explain without verbalizing it. “you aren’t… shy in the way a lot of girls are, i guess, i don’t know, you talk about your relationship problems with me. plus, we’re in the same outfit.”

you look him up and down, realizing he is yet another person you’ve stolen fashion inspiration from. you smack a hand over your mouth, “oh god, you too?” giggles threaten to slip through your palm, before you shrug and say, “i’m one of the guys, i guess.”

“ew,” he physically cringes, “never say that again.”

three guys approached behind chan and you first spot jisung, the one you didn’t meet at chan’s apartment. he looked the same, a mop of brown curls sat atop his head, big, thin frames on his face, a hoodie and baggy jeans on his body. he looked just as cute as the day you first saw him, like a chipmunk you’d spot outside of your living room window on a spring day. 

he wasn’t sexy, he wasn’t massively muscular, he wasn’t six foot three or thirty years old— he wasn’t mingyu. no one could be.

“these are my friends,” chan pointed to each friend as he said, “jisung, jeongin and jihoon.” 

“ah, the J’s!” you introduced yourself to the three of them, your groups quickly merging to create small talk. chan stood close to you, guiding your conversation with his roommates, you talked about the festival, what bands were playing, until you settled into a layer of comfort to speak freely. the surfside was definitely helping. 

you quickly realized the three boys were more reserved, unlike chan– or they were at least not comfortable enough yet to cut through san and yeosang’s voices, who were quickly dominating the conversation with chan. 

“the next band playing is really good,” jihoon finally interrupts, looking around the group with a gaze which didn’t seem shy, instead calculated, like he was waiting for the right moment to speak. he was shorter than everyone, long, black hair laid over his shoulders, you could see the muscles beneath the black tee he wore, nearly masked by the black jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders. he gave the vibe that he had his shit together– clean, healthy, confident. “do you guys want to stay? who are you here to see?” 

“jungle is playing later,” you reply, “on stage B i believe, at eight? i want to see them the most.” 

“TV girl is playing at six,” yeosang cuts in, warm brown hair that’s gotten noticeably longer was falling over his temples now, “still woozy plays in about an hour.”

“you like still woozy?” jeongin asked yeosang, as if hearing jihoon’s voice gave him the confidence to speak up himself. the two were just about the same height, yeosang was maybe an inch taller than jeongin. his face was insane, to say the least– sharp jaw, high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes that curved up ever so slightly at the edges. he was the other one out of the four that resembled an animal in the most gorgeous way, black hair laying across his forehead that made the shadows of his face deepen further. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model, if not a fox turned human– you wondered if he had any interest in you.

“where have you been keeping them?” you say in chan’s ear, leaning closely into his side. chan chuckles, looking down at the ground, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. 

“i keep them locked in their rooms, they’re only allowed out during feeding time,” he jokes, a wide smile on his face, voice turning to a hushed whisper as he says, “stop ogling them, jisung will get jealous.” 

“then jisung should do something about it,” you retort as you bring your gaze back to the group– jisung couldn’t see who you were looking at anyways, you still had your sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose.

“let him get a few more drinks in him, he will,” chan nods nonchalantly as he looks away from you. you rolled your eyes under the shades– you didn’t care either way, but the outright admittance of jisung needing alcohol to talk to you rubbed you the wrong way. 

your group travels to another stage, watching a different group play while waiting for still woozy to start their performance. jisung trailed behind the group with jihoon, the two seemed to be a pair so far, then yeosang, san and jeongin had split off to the side. you walked between yunho and chan, three quarters of your surfside had already heated you up enough to where the bite of the air was more of a light nibble on your cheeks. 

“i need another,” you said in san’s direction, wiggling your can that had little liquid left in it. 

san frowns, “already?” 

you threw the last bit of liquid back, swallowing it quickly, and handed it to san. “yes, please.”

he grabs the can from your hands and turns to the group, wearing a look of irritation even if he doesn't care at all– he’ll let the act go on for as long as he deems necessary. drama queen. “anyone else need another?” 

chan and his roommates hadn’t gotten drinks yet, and yeosang needed a refill– leaving you alone with yunho, where you stood watching the random band playing on the stage. 

“the curly headed one is interested in you,” yunho comments without looking at you, voice flat as he brings his beer to his lips to take a sip. it should catch you off guard how quickly he noticed without you and jisung having any interactions so far, but you were done with being inside yunho’s head. 

you let out a sound of amusement instead, “and?” 

“just letting you know,” he looks down at you, “it seems you know already.” 

you shoot him a pointed look before turning back to the stage, the two of you falling into silence. your stomach grows warm, the drink you’d already chugged down had begun fulfilling its purpose– warming you up first and foremost, helping you forget how miserable you’d become second. 

“i don’t know what to say to you to make things better,” yunho admits, keeping his focus on the band. his mouth twists to one side, discomfort sitting on his features, you two hadn’t really spoken since wednesday. 

you came home the day you ended things with mingyu in tears, anger replacing every atom in your body as if you’d become a pot overflowing with boiling water– you lost it, all of your feelings were directed at both san and yunho. they were sitting on the couches in your living room, completely blindsided when you decided they alone were responsible for how your relationship with mingyu ended. both boys had fought you on it.

ace didn’t have it in him to mediate your argument, he had his own relationship issues to work through, instead he and yeosang watched the three of you yell at each other for minutes until you fully broke down. not once did either of them tell you to make up with mingyu, to reconsider their words, but instead they consoled you for the two week long relationship you were clearly grieving– it pissed you off even more.

after you had time to process the argument, you realized all you wanted was their approval– you wanted them to tell you to get back with him, you wanted them to like him as much as you did, as much as you do. for three days now you've been sitting with your anger, only giving curt responses around your house, spending most of your time in your bedroom, you considered not even coming today. 

you needed to get out– you needed a boyfriend before thanksgiving. 

“there’s nothing for you to say,” you shrug, then cross your arms over your chest. “even if i reached out to him now, i don’t think he’ll ever see me as anything other than an immature twenty two year old. it’s done.” 

he sips his beer again. “you are an immature twenty two year old.” you snap your gaze up at him, ready to bite back, but he continues. “that’s what you’re supposed to be, this is how it should be.” 

a dry laugh escapes you, one that lets him know there was nothing funny at all. “how it should be? at a music festival waiting for a guy to get the balls to speak to me?” 

he speaks through an exhale, “at least this guy is your age, tiny.”

you step to the side, giving yourself space from him, not wanting to slip into a fit of anger and ruin the day for everyone, you know you will if you continue the conversation. your mind whirls as you keep your gaze locked on the stage, not hearing one beat of the drum nor a single strum of the guitar, ears ringing as you try to calm yourself down. 

“i’m sorry,” he says as he steps closer, his voice quiet, only for your ears. “i didn’t think you’d be this hurt, i guess.”

“i came home bawling my eyes out and screamed at you,” you said, baffled, not fully believing him. you hadn’t argued over anything more serious than what you were having for dinner in years. “you didn’t think it hurt?” 

“i’ll stop meddling,” he pulls his lips together, forming a tight line. you see the group of boys returning to where you stood from behind yunho, drinks in tow, you turn to face the stage again. 

“you won’t have the chance to meddle again, i learned my lesson for good,” you say flatly, and he sighs. the sigh was both long and loud, he was truly defeated– he didn’t know how to handle you. you couldn’t comprehend why he felt the need to in the first place. 

“we should head to stage C,” chan says as soon as he returns, san right on his tail to hand you your drink. you were grateful yunho didn’t have the time to continue the conversation. you slap a smile on your face and thank him for the drink before asking chan who’s playing at stage C. 

chan smirks, “weezer.” 

“oh, brother,” you laugh, “let’s go.” 

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if you were starting to have a good time, but the time you spent watching weezer while you waited for still woozy to come on seemed to break up the dark cloud looming above you. chan stayed close, he was bleeding positive energy that you didn’t know if he was pushing onto you on purpose, or if it was just him. either way, the smile that sat on your face became more and more genuine, less forced as time went by. 

by the time you made it to still woozy’s set, you were past the level of comfortably warm and leaning towards hot. you stopped at the bar again after weezer, you were just tipsy enough to buy all eight of you a round of shots– the plan was not to get drunk, but that seemed to be the direction the day was going in, who were you to stop it? 

just before the set began, jeongin and yeosang had pulled your group by the wrists to fight through the crowd and get as close to the front as you could. you let yunho and san guide you into the mass of people, two walls of muscle and height to give you a path, the crowd didn’t bother you one bit. your smile was more than genuine now, you couldn’t wipe it off your face– this was a music festival, seeing bands you never would’ve thought of buying tickets for, a group of people gathered in one place that enjoyed the same music as you. you were already thinking of going to more. 

swaying side to side, singing a song you’d heard on repeat in yeosang’s car at the top of your lungs, you almost didn’t catch the eyes that couldn’t leave you. attached to a mop of curly brown hair, behind massive lenses, a gaze of chocolate brown accompanied by a small smile seemed entranced by you. you smiled back when you noticed, then turned your head back to the band– jisung took that as an invitation. 

walking up beside you, jisung didn’t say anything at first. his head nodded along to the song, curls bouncing across his forehead, fingers wrapped around a plastic cup. with a stomach full of vodka, you were almost excited– you wanted to encourage him, give him the confidence, tell him to say something. 

but you didn’t– and jisung still said nothing after the entire song. 

after the song ended, there was a moment of silence amongst the crowd, the inbetween waiting for the next song to play. you glanced around for your friends– yeosang and jeongin were mid conversation, yeosang’s body leaned into jeongin’s but not quite touching, his body language saying you weren’t the only one who found jeongin attractive. damn. 

yunho and jihoon stood behind everyone, the height difference between the two almost made you giggle, where san and chan stood next to them. the four weren’t speaking, but holding their drinks and watching the performance instead, all shooting you a warm look when you caught their eyes. 

you turned to jisung, “can you do me a favor?” he nodded, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “can you hold my drink while i take my jacket off, please?” 

he nodded again and you handed him your can, slightly struggling to get your jacket off over your sleeves. when you got it off, you threw it over your forearm, and jisung handed you your can back. 

“do you, uh– want me to hold your jacket?” he asked, his eyes wide and sparkling– his tone seemed unsure of his own words, but he still said them. 

“no, no, don’t worry about it,” you beamed, “thank you.”

as the next song started to play, a few strums of the guitar woke up the crowd, screams erupting around you. one of the screams had come from yeosang, who had his hands shaped in an oval around his mouth, making his yell that much louder.

you giggled and turned back to jisung who was also smiling in yeosang’s direction, “he really likes still woozy.”

“i would’ve never guessed,” he says sarcastically, his smile never dropping. “you seem to like them, too.” 

“i do, but not as much as yeo. he should be up at the barricade,” you point your chin in the direction of the front of the stage. 

“i think jeongin should go with him,” jisung shrugs, “they seem to be a pair.”

“by the end of the night someone will have to rip yeo off of him,” you joke, and jisung laughs. a soft chuckle, but you sense a wall come down, another shred of confidence popping through his reserved demeanor. you smile. 

“what about you?” jisung asks, eyes still moon-shaped, as if he was scared to ask the question. 

your eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side, “what about me?”

“chan said you had a boyfriend, he isn't here?” jisung’s lips form a line as if he was scared to hear the answer, your face immediately mimics his, but for an entirely different reason. you didn’t think jisung knew about mingyu, unless chan filled him in and didn’t tell you. you hadn’t filled chan in on the recent developments concerning mingyu, either. 

“i don’t have a boyfriend, i’m not seeing anyone,” you shake your head and turn to the stage. jisung felt the shift in mood, stepping forward, into your view. 

“sorry if i overstepped,” he shook his head, “chan said–”

“chan didn’t know, doesn’t know, you're fine,” you give him a weak smile, and the conversation runs flat. you took the last swig of your surfside– you needed this feeling gone, as if mingyu never happened in the first place. 

“do you want another drink?” jisung asks as soon as the can leaves your lips, “my treat.” 

you give him a singular nod, and before you could process it, jisung was leading you through the pack of people. you didn’t tell a soul where you were going, you walked right through the wall of boys as if they were waiting for you to run off with jisung. where the crowd was more condensed, jisung took a pause, making you stop in your tracks behind him. 

“gimme this,” he muttered as he grabbed your jacket and your empty can, then took your hand with his free one. “stay close to me.” 

your cheeks flushed as you nodded, the heat that was already consuming your entire being only grew in temperature. maybe he’s the type that’s only shy at first. your eyes stayed trained on your linked fingers, his hands were soft, calluses on the tips of his fingers that laid over your knuckles. 

“do you play guitar?” you asked as you made it to the outskirts of the crowd, jisung took a pause that had you flipping his hand over, inspecting the tougher skin atop his fingers. 

“uh— yes,” you glance up, his cheeks pink, the ends of his curls lying along the frames of his glasses. “i make music, i’m studying composing, songwriting, all that stuff.” 

“chan told me,” you smile as you let his fingers go, nearing the feeling of cuteness aggression the more you look at him. all you could muster was a breathy “that’s cool”.

his smile grew and he tugged on your hand again, rough fingertips laid on your knuckles once more as he pulled you towards the bar. behind it was a man who you, at first, couldn’t believe was a bartender— black hair that touched his broad shoulders, a slender figure with a muscular structure that seemed too curated for bartending to be his career. a black long sleeve shirt clung to every inch of him, baggy jeans that hung loose on his hips, an outfit you’d definitely be taking inspiration from. 

his face was nothing short of beautiful, plump lips, a white smile that sparkled when he asked what you’d be drinking. 

jisung turned to you with an eyebrow raised, a questioning look. you cleared your throat, “a surfside, please.” 

“miller, please,” jisung nodded towards him and the bartender shot you another smile before he was opening your cans. you were mesmerized as he grabbed the bar key with nimble fingers, cracking the tab with practiced movements, a speed that told you maybe this was his full time career. 

jisung paid as promised and you took your time making it back to stage C happily with small talk and a lazy stride, choosing to hang at the back of the crowd instead of fighting towards the middle where you stood before. 

jisung’s presence had enveloped your mind quicker than you thought it would, once you broke the ice it was easier to talk to him, speaking as freely as you would with someone who’d been your friend way longer than just a day. you didn’t talk of anything personal, not school, your family, your friends, your interests, your intentions, but instead small talk that came too easily, standing close while you swayed to goodie bag. 

it was comfortable— it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t staged, it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t even obvious that jisung was interested in you, there were no pickup lines, no quick-witted flirting, yet you knew and you might even like it. maybe what you need right now is simplicity. 

when your friends came out of the crowd in laughter and giddy smiles, you felt lighter, the energy around you felt brighter, the air felt clearer, you almost forgot you walked into the venue miserable. with TV girl playing shortly at another stage, there was no time to stand and talk, you and jisung quickly slipped into the crowd of your friend group mid-conversation as if you never ran off in the first place. 

“what’s your guys’ favorite song?” yeosang asked the group, bouncing on his feet as you approached the already formed crowd, jeongin at his side. 

“the whole french exit album,” you were first to answer. “birds don’t sing, louise, lover’s rock, the blonde.” 

“tiny’s a romantic,” you heard san announce, and it brings a smile to your face— whether it was sarcasm or a dig you didn’t care, maybe now you were a romantic. “i only know lover’s rock.” 

“tiny?” jisung asks, turning to you, an eyebrow raised. “that’s you?” 

“unfortunately,” you nod, “been tiny since the womb, practically.” 

“fitting,” jisung smacks his lips together and flattens his brows in contemplation then quickly to understanding— you couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. 

jihoon turns to chan, “you listen to TV girl a lot, right?” 

chan nods towards him, “you should know more than lover’s rock, i play their music all the time at home. better in the dark?” he glances around to empty stares, he raises his eyebrows with expectancy and sings, “the lighter makes a spark, but i look better in the dark.” 

jisung, jihoon and jeongin all simultaneously release a dragged out “oh” in remembrance, and chan rolls his eyes. he turns to you, “they don’t remember shit. too much weed, they smoke.” 

you giggle, then tilt your head to the side, an idea coming to mind. “did anyone bring any?” 

jihoon shoots you a lazy smile, “of course i did, you smoke?” 

you shake your head, “not particularly, but i’m down to.” 

jihoon reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet, several joints tucked into one of the folds. he plucks one out, wasting no time as he holds it between his fingers, your group tightens its circle around jihoon as if he was holding gold. 

yunho eyed you from the opposite side of the circle, where you were standing between chan and jisung, he was between san and jihoon. his eyes were observing, debating, a pointed look that forced you to notice it. you shrugged him off, smoking at a music festival just felt right— you didn’t want or need him to parent you, even if you had been drinking already. 

jihoon was quick to light the twisted end of the joint, the red hot flame of his black lighter was enough to color all of your faces an amber hue. you stood like kids, huddled around jihoon like he had a secret to tell, where he took three puffs of the joint to get it burning. your eyes widened as you watched his technique, how he blew on the end of the joint to keep it burning evenly, pink lips tightened to a perfect O shape– a gorgeous sight. 

the circle opens up as you begin passing, a sweet melody in your ear and a pungent smell in your nose, forcing your body into moving to the beat. jisung, beside you, sways his hips in the same motion as yours, a fit of giggles erupting from your lungs as you move in unison. too focused on jisung, you didn’t realize chan was holding the joint out to you. 

you inhaled slowly, you hadn’t smoked since the last time you were at the frats, that had been months ago. you knew the basics, you kept your hits of the joint small, especially since you had a few drinks in you, you were never really a smoker. socially, in the kitchen of a massive frat house, or on the balcony of the only person you consistently hooked up with at school, that only lasted just shy of a month.  

the burn in your lungs and the cough that fought to break through your lips felt nostalgic, you felt so light you could float up to the clouded night sky. immediately immersed into a sense of calm, like stepping into a bath of warm water, you smiled as you passed the joint to jisung. every bone in your body told you you needed that. 

your ears perked to the conversation happening around you, yeosang, san and jeongin in some sort of debate, the joint had made its way to yunho by now. you could feel everything slow down, your eyes hooding, sitting at half mast just from two hits. 

“ah,” jisung tilts his head back in delight, “that strain fucks, hoon.” you couldn’t stop the small giggle from leaving you at fucks.

jihoon smiles, confident as ever, “right?” he looks around the group before he adds, “i grew it myself.” 

san’s jaw drops as he takes the joint from yunho, “you grow it?” 

“right in my backyard,” jihoon nods, “it’s better that way.” 

you check out of the conversation, your focus back on the crowd, not a thought in your brain, yet instead paying attention to the hues of blue and pink that lay over the crowd like blankets. you could see backs of heads and nothing more, shaded eyes not quite reaching the stage, but the light show that cascaded over the mass of people was enough. 

you almost didn’t notice the presence next to you, you hadn’t even realized you moved, as jisung planted his feet directly next to yours, your neck nearly snapped up in surprise. 

“so pretty,” he says, eyes glazed over as they stared out into the crowd, his thoughts probably matched yours. 

“the lights?” you asked, flipping your sunglasses atop your head so you could see clearer.

“you mainly,” he looks down to you and you meet his eyes, not missing the pink that kissed his cheeks, “but yeah, i guess the lights, too.” 

your own cheeks flush– this was the first he was showing interest. you smile through a giggle, “that was smooth, jisung.”

“wanna get closer?” he asks you, reaching for your hand again before you had a moment to answer. 

as he pulled you along, you asked, “are you sure you don’t want to keep smoking?” 

he looks over his shoulder and it nearly takes your breath away, he’s so cute you think you’d follow him around all night, especially if he keeps looking at you like that. as if he’d go anywhere with you, as if he didn’t care about anything else, you saw his feelings in his eyes. he was into you. he smiles, “do you?”

“let’s go,” you nod your head and pull your sunglasses over your eyes again, headed behind jisung into the crowd that was packed like sardines. mumbles of ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ left him as he cut through people, keeping you close to him with a firm grip on your hand, you could feel the calluses on your knuckles so much more. 

when you made it somewhat towards the middle, a pocket of space amongst the crowd, jisung finally stopped and turned to you for approval. you put your sunglasses atop your head again, tucking your hair behind your ears, your view was so much better now. 

the music was louder, the lights were clearer, now it was just you and jisung– you weren’t sure if you were at the festival anymore or if you were up in the clouds. the only thing that could make this better would be if you could actually see the stage. you wish yunho had followed you.

as if he heard your thoughts, jisung’s voice was loud when he asked, “can you see?” 

you shook your head, “the lights are so pretty, it doesn’t even matter.” 

“you're going to think i’m crazy, don’t think i'm crazy,” he prefaces, bracing himself for rejection with a shy smile, “do you want to get on my shoulders?” 

you laugh in disbelief, loudly, looking at him with wide eyes and jaw slack. he raises his eyebrows, “you’re tiny, right?”

“i am tiny but not like that,” you wave your free hand in front of you, “i don’t want to hurt you.” 

he rolls his eyes with a cocky smile, “if you could see what was under the hoodie you wouldn’t be saying that.” 

your eyes widen impossibly further, that was the last thing you expected to leave his lips. a smirk appears on your own, “oh, now you’re confident, huh?” 

“is it working?” 

“maybe.” 

“then get on,” he squats down, your jacket still folded over his forearm but he’s careful not to let it touch the ground. you suck in a breath– this could go one of two ways, especially since you both drank and smoked, either you’ll have an incredible view or everyone will watch you fall to the dirt. 

fuck it. 

you swing a denim covered leg around his neck, slightly hopping up to straddle his nape. you giggle as you do, the action was almost sobering, the amount of focus it took you to balance. as he stood up your hands flew to his curls, the only thing you could think to grab onto to steady yourself, a slew of apologies leaving your lips after you accidentally tugged. 

“jisung!” you yelled, “i didn’t know what else to grab.” 

you could hear the shake of his shoulders as he laughed beneath your thighs, “i could make a terrible joke right now, but i’m not going to.” 

it takes you a moment to catch on, but when you do, you laugh. “nothing but a man.” 

“a man that has you on his shoulders,” he bites back, “enjoy the show.” 

you finally looked up and the stage was finally clear– shrouded in blue light, the members visible, the music so loud– it was nothing short of exhilarating. the thought crosses your mind that maybe this was what yunho was talking about, being in your twenties and experiencing, you don’t know if you would have ever made it onto mingyu’s shoulders in the crowd of a TV girl concert. you guess you’ll never know, and for the first time since wednesday, the thought didn’t fill you with dread - you supposed you have vodka and weed to thank.

instead you screamed– an excited scream, for the band, for the show, for how fucking good their music is. definitely high, more than a little drunk and nearly seven feet in the air, you were positive your night couldn’t get any better. there was nothing better than this. 

“hey!” you heard from beneath you, stealing your attention fully. jisung turns to the side, which turns you to the side, your entire friend group beneath you with wide grins and red, glossed over eyes. 

“hey guys!” you yelled back, your smile reaching ear to ear, “i’m up here!”

“we see you,” yeosang is smiling, “how’s the view?”

“incredible,” you’re gleaming, “this is so fucking cool!” 

san, yeosang and yunho all watch you with soft eyes, warmth in their bodies, you could read their emotions from their faces— superpowers only granted to those who have been friends for two decades. the other three boys stared at you with something like surprise on their faces, for that you could only guess what for, and you didn’t have the brain power to think that deeply about anything right now. you caught chan and yunho locking eyes, yunho shooting chan a dry nod as if to say ‘i told you so’.

you cocked your head to the side for a moment before the thought was gone. you take a sip from your surfside, this one going down much slower than the last ones, and ask the group, “do we have any more weed?” 

“i don’t think you need any more,” san says through an amused smile, with a small shake of his head. he was done being a drama queen. “you’ll fall off the boy’s shoulders.”

“yunho’s here,” you shrug, “he’ll catch me. did you guys know yunho is actually spiderman?” a fit of giggles slips through your lips, your head falling back in laughter. it throws your balance off, making jisung take a step back, and the whole six of them lunge forward. you grab onto jisung’s curls again, stabilizing yourself, “whoa, sorry, i’m getting too comfortable up here.” 

“you should get down,” yunho says with concern as the group walks forward, making something like a crowd around you and jisung without it being obvious it’s to catch you if you fall. “you’re fucked up, teens, you’ll fall.” 

“boo,” you frown, throwing a thumbs down in yunho’s direction. “i like it up here. did you forget you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore?” 

yunho’s jaw tightens, his eyebrows flattening. he chooses not to answer, instead yeosang steps in, saying your actual name in a warning tone. 

“what?” you ask, dumbfounded, “i just wanna watch the show.” 

you bring your attention back to the stage, one hand in jisung’s hair, mindlessly twirling chocolate covered curls around your finger as the other hand brings your surfside back to your lips. you missed the way yeosang, san and yunho shared a look, how the three of them began to realize where tonight was headed, none of them looking forward to it. 

when TV girl’s set ended you were back on the ground, staying close to jisung’s side as you walked toward stage B, excitement flooding you that jungle was next. 

“i can’t wait,” you bounced next to jisung, a wide smile on your face, “do you like jungle?” 

“love jungle,” he nodded, “back on 74? banger.” 

“my favorite is i’ve been in love,” you beam, “i know every word, i think there was a three day period where all i listened to was that song.”

“three days of one song?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows and eyes that looked like the moon hung above you, full and bright, “i would lose my mind.” 

“we listen to music differently, though,” you counter, “i bet you hear a bunch of stuff i don’t. how it’s made, background stuff, lyrics, i just like it when a song sounds good.” 

he smiles, “music’s heard differently by everyone, that’s the cool thing about it. i couldn’t live without it.” 

you groan, “a world without music?” you emphasized your words dramatically, hopefully to humor the boy who knew more about music than you ever would, “that’s called hell.” 

he laughs loudly, hunching forward a bit to catch his mouth with his hand, “i can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” 

“i’m serious!” you laugh too, accidentally stepping over your foot and bumping into his side, “sorry. but i am serious, i couldn’t live in a world where music didn’t exist.” 

you step into the line for the bar without even thinking or discussing that you would, you didn’t know where everyone else had gone. something about the food trucks by the main entrance. 

“have you been friends with them for a long time?” jisung asks, moving in front of you, and your eyes glaze over his figure. his clothes fit him so nicely, his hoodie perfectly oversized, jeans lying over the laces of his sneakers at just the right spot. “you seem like you’ve been friends forever.” 

“ever since i can remember, they’ve been in my life,” you nod with a smile, head tilting to the side. your eyes felt heavy. “they’re my brothers, basically.” 

“i only have one older brother,” his lips form a tight smile, “must be nice to have three.”

“four,” you correct him, stepping forward in line, “i have an actual brother, he’s my twin.”

“and you’re all friends?”

“our parents are close friends, so naturally we are, too,” you nod. wanting to change the subject, with a devilish smile you ask, “should we get shots?”

jisung lets out a huff of amusement through his nose, “can you handle shots?” 

“i fear i might need shots,” you say through a breath, you felt like you were slowing down. if you slowed down any further, the sadness would creep back in. “i’ll get this round.” 

he looks at you inquisitively, like he wanted to ask but didn’t know if he should. instead he waves you off and says, “nah, i’ll get them, if you need one so badly.”

you smile and lightly slap his bicep, “now you’re making me sound like an alcoholic, it’s just been a tough week.” 

he nods as you step forward again, one group in front of you in line. “i can understand that, this is good timing, then. the festival, and me.” 

your head snaps up to look at him like a deer caught in headlights, fumbling over your words, “no– i–”

“don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head, “let’s just have fun.” 

you take a second to close your mouth, and nod with a weak smile. he orders you tequila shots and hard liquor drinks this time– go big or go home, his words. as you sipped through a tiny straw on your way back to stage B, you realized he was right, shots and a drink drink were much needed– go big or go home, indeed. your brain was even foggier as you approached the dark stage, jungle wasn’t playing just yet, but you could see small shadows of people setting up the stage from the back of the crowd. 

“should we go up there?” you ask jisung, referring to the crowd, slurring your words ever so slightly. 

the corner of his lips lifted up into a smile, his eyes glossed over just like your own, he’s keeping up with you. “i think we should definitely go up there.”

fingers linked again, pressing through bodies in the crowd, the rest of your friends weren’t a thought in your brain. a wide smile on your face, all you could think was jisung and jungle. he was the perfect person to rip you out of whatever funk you were in. 

jisung got you both closer than you’d been the entire time you were at the festival, it was condensed but not as packed as the first twenty rows of people– you still had wiggle room. he tugged on your hand to bring you even closer to the stage, but you didn’t feel like being a sardine, you had pulled his back to keep you both in the spot you deemed perfect. he’d pulled his phone out to take a picture of the stage, most likely to send to one of his friends to let them know where you were, but you kept your phone in your purse, selfishly hoping they wouldn’t find you. you just wanted to be, here with jisung, watching the show together. 

as the lights came on, screams erupted from around you, also from you and jisung. the crowd collapsed inward, pushing you into the people in front of you– a meek yelp left your lips as people behind you pushed into you. jisung was quick to grab your wrist and pull you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your front over your shoulders, laying one wrist over another in front of you. 

you tilt your head up, fear still lingering in your eyes from almost getting crushed, “thank you.” 

he gave you a tight lipped smile and you swooned. his hoodie was so soft, so warm, his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. your back pressed to his front, your head laid back on his chest right under his chin, your fuzzy brain wouldn’t let you stop smiling. jungle opened with back on 74 and both you and jisung sang along with the rest of the crowd, swaying side to side, your heads tilted upward to watch the stage. 

you weren’t careful of how much you leaned into him, you couldn’t, that power left you a drink and a shot ago. you completely relied on jisung’s strength to keep you held up as you relinquished the little core strength you had, your fingers on one hand gripping your jacket laid on his forearm, the other holding your drink. his body was sturdy, strong, it felt good pressed against you. your lips stretched to one side, the alcohol was hitting you more than you thought it would– from how often you’d been getting laid, you’d worked up something like a routine with your body, and here jisung was. 

“you comfortable?” he asked in your ear, deep voice sending vibrations through your entire body. 

you answered with a mhm that came deep in your soul, you were more than comfortable– you wanted him. 

your mind travelled as jungle played through their setlist, three songs deep now, you began to wonder if jisung wanted you, too. you tested the waters, pressing your back into him a little harder, but he stayed solid. you rolled your head to the side, let your fingers travel up and down his cotton clad arm, humming along to the song playing. 

his hands finally moved, fingers traveling down to your waist, to your hips, moving with you. a smile grew on your lips as you kept swaying to the music, body still pressed against him– you should be embarrassed with the amount of people around you, they could be watching you, eyes glued to the way your hips were moving on jisung. the thought was fleeting, you didn’t care– jisung, wanted you, too, that’s all that mattered. 

jisung and jungle.

his head came down to reach your ear again, “you know what you’re doing, right?” 

you smiled, an innocent one that he couldn’t see, “you said let’s have fun.” 

he laughed from behind you, a quick chuckle that had your neck bending to look up at him. his smile was intoxicating if you weren’t already, his lips so pink and plump, you wondered what they tasted like. he caught your eyes, seeming like he could read your mind, but he caught your eyes as they dipped down to his mouth and back up at his own. that only meant one thing.

something unreadable crossed his face before he was leaning down, attaching his lips to yours. his speed took you by surprise, as if he mentally said fuck it, but you were even quicker to reciprocate. opening your mouth ever so slightly you deepened the kiss, warmth spreading across your body, momentarily giving you reprieve before the awkward angle and the urge to have more of him consumed you. 

your drink fell to the dirt before your hands came up to cup his cheeks, body completely turning to face him so that your front pressed to his instead. his hands came to your hips again, planted firmly against your jeans, the tips of cold pinkies slipping underneath your hoodie, the chill of his fingers making you shiver. 

it was electric– it was exactly what you needed. your favorite band playing in the background, kissing a boy you’d only met today, this is what yunho was talking about. this was being twenty two, living, experiencing, doing things for the fuck of it… you were starting to hate when he was right. 

“hey,” he said between kisses, making you pull away, catching your breath. a hand came up to wipe at your wet bottom lip as he pressed his curl covered forehead against yours, your breaths still coming out uneven. his eyes were darker, even more glazed over, you wondered how that was even possible. he smiled, that same smile that just did you in moments prior, “i like you.” 

you didn’t miss a beat as you said, “then keep kissing me,” and found his lips again. 

he took a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head back, tongue slipping through your lips. you moaned, not a care in the world for the people around you. you would’ve asked him to take you in a port a potty if you weren’t interrupted a moment after. 

“damn,” you wouldn’t have bat an eye if it didn’t come from a voice you recognized. chan was giggling as he got closer to you, “i don’t know how we even recognized you, if you got any closer you might’ve merged into one.” 

you literally jumped, cheeks flushing as if you were a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. chan wore the widest smirk on his red cheeks and you couldn’t help but scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. a grumble left your lips, “cockblocker.” 

following him were the rest of the boys one by one, slipping through spaces in the crowd to take their places around you as if they’d been searching for you. out of breath, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as you and jisung took a step closer to one another again. you caught his eye, he wore the same look you did– horny, frustrated, disappointed. 

after your shared look you bit your lip out of annoyance, then your eyebrows shot to your hairline as you brought your empty palms out in front of you. you looked up to jisung, “where did my drink go?!”

jisung threw his head back in laughter before he pointed to the ground, your now empty cup crushed and covered in dirt. you pouted, “i dropped it?” 

“you don’t even remember?” he was still giggling, hand covering his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkled. 

“here,” chan said, pushing his cup into your hand– whiskey, neat. you stared at the cup in your hand, face immediately falling, eyebrows furrowing and not because you didn’t like whiskey. you looked back up to chan and his eyes widened, hand lurching forward to grab it from your hands. “my bad, i’m sorry, ohmygod.”

another drink replaced its spot in your hand, a surfside, freshly cracked, still cold. you looked up to yunho in front of you, the one who put it in your hands, and he gave you a warm smile. “better, right?” 

“much, thank you,” a smile replaced your frown as you took a sip, body whipping around to watch jungle again. a heavy hand rested on your shoulder, yunho standing directly behind you. 

he bent down to your ear, much like how jisung did minutes ago, his voice lowered as he said, “pretend we’re not even here.” 

you thanked him with your eyes, body moving before you could process it, skipping to your spot in front of jisung again, where he immediately laid his arms over your shoulders. you hung your head forward, looking around for your group, jeongin and yeosang were holding hands now, san and chan standing too close for that to be nothing, yunho and jihoon silently watching the band. 

you smiled to yourself– despite being annoyed by their interruption, chan damn near pulling you off of jisung, you liked this. you liked chan’s friends being with yours, a blend of people you never would’ve expected hanging out, and enjoying it on top of it all. you wouldn’t mind if you did this more. 

as the familiar tune of i’ve been in love reverberates throughout the crowd, you gasp. “jisung!” you exclaim, your smile massive as you look up at him, “they’re playing it!” 

he beams, eyes full of warmth as he looks down at you, “they knew you were here.” 

you start rapping along, head leaning back onto jisung’s chest. to your surprise, he raps along with you, the two of you going word for word with the band. you looked up to him with shock written all over your face, the two of you getting louder as realization set in, as the song continued. you couldn’t help the stupid smile that you couldn’t wipe off your face, not that you tried– not that you even wanted to try. 

as the song nears its end, you thought over yunho’s words again. pretend we’re not even here.

if they weren’t here, you never would’ve stopped kissing jisung– you already missed his lips on yours. you tilted your head up, doe eyes to doe eyes, jisung was already staring back down at you. you smiled as you glanced down to his lips, a question on your own, one you didn’t have to ask because he wanted it, too. 

warm and soft, already slick with his spit, you could focus on how he felt this time instead of your drunken need overpowering your senses. with newfound clarity, the outcome was just as damning, getting lost in jisung’s lips was just as easy as the first time. keeping a loose hold on your can, you swung your body to face him without breaking the kiss, your other arm wrapping around his shoulder. 

“you’re so hot,” he mumbles into your lips, hands traveling up to your waist, beneath your hoodie. a chill racked through you as a soft noise left your lips, too gone to answer, too lost in the way he made you feel, the temperature of his fingertips against your skin. 

“leave with us, stay over tonight,” a statement that was also a question, jisung’s voice was heavy, a depth to it told you he needed you just as bad. 

“maybe,” you kissed him again, your voice airy, not here nor there. your surroundings had left you— it was only you and jisung in that moment, that’s all you cared about. you couldn’t think about after, you couldn’t think about mere minutes from now, all you could think was how you never wanted his lips to leave yours. 

you missed how yunho watched from his peripherals, how his eyebrows flattened, how his lips formed to a thin line. he couldn’t focus on the band in front of him, he knew you loved them, which made him love them, too, yet you weren’t even paying attention. yunho was dumbfounded— with you, with himself, with his own emotions— he didn’t know what to do. 

after decades of knowing you, his bright eyed, favorite girl, he didn’t think there was this much of you left to figure out. he’s watched you grow up, he himself grew up alongside you, he’s seen you through every phase, every change, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this one. 

random hookups throughout high school, college, none of that actually mattered— you already consumed his mind day and night, but after you started dating, he picked himself apart piece by piece, hoping to realize what you didn’t see in him. 

yunho looked to his left, yeosang was kissing jeongin now. that didn’t take him by surprise. 

yunho looked to his right, san was looking at chan with a hunger yunho had never seen in his eyes before. that should've been more surprising than it was. 

in front of the two boys were you and jisung, that made yunho want to crawl out of his skin. he saw you kissing him moments prior, he even told you to do so in other words, for a moment yunho thought maybe he was a masochist. a glutton for pain, for torture, whatever this feeling was as he stared at you, eyes closed, fingers tangled in that boy’s hair. 

yunho had to let go. he’d already fucked up, he’d already let too many of his feelings slip through the reins of his self restraint, he’s already endured you screaming in his face once, he’d die before he hurt you enough to do it again. he told himself this is just another phase, another change, you’ll come out of it smarter, more experienced, different. he can’t help but be a little scared that you’ll actually succeed in finding a boyfriend. 

as your face detaches from jisung’s to take a breather, yunho can see your glazed over eyes, your expression that read all of nothing, you’d been drinking for hours now without a morsel of food in your stomach. he’s seen you drunk, hammered, hurled over a toilet for hours on end— but you looked happy, which you haven’t in days, yunho didn’t want to interrupt but he didn’t want you throwing up in the dirt, either. 

yunho was at a crossroads. as jungle wrapped up their set and you unwrapped yourself from jisung’s embrace, your face changed, the knit of your eyebrow told him something wasn’t right. he was quick on his feet, two long strides had him at your side, asking you what’s wrong. 

“i dunno,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing, your free hand coming up to your face, cold palm pressed against your hot cheek. even through your mask of inebriation, he knew that look, he could read it all over you— this wasn’t about the boy, this was about mingyu. 

“let’s go home,” yunho bent down, level with your face to look into your eyes, he could see the tears before they formed. it put a knot in his stomach. 

“okay,” your voice was strained, raw. yunho felt like he’d been punched in the gut. he should've told you not to smoke, especially after drinking so much, he shouldn’t have brought you that last drink— he should’ve warned you that drinking wouldn’t fix anything. 

he looked up to jisung whose eyes were wide, eyebrows raised in confusion and concern. his voice was raised in pitch as he asked, “is she okay?”

yunho nodded quickly, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed to say she’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. your face hit his chest and he wished he could physically stop his heartbeat from quickening. years of loving you, spending time with you, being close to you, touching you— he always reacted the same. 

chan bounced over, worry in his voice, “hey, hey, hey,” he placed his hand on your back and it took every ounce of strength yunho had to not pull you away, but since chan is your friend, he’d allow it. chan leaned closer, “you okay?” 

you picked your head up to look at him, yunho couldn’t see your face but the look on chan’s told him enough, his eyebrows furrowed even further with worry. “did jisung—”

“no,” you sniffed, “it’s not jisung, just needa go home,” you slurred, shaking your head, “drank too much.” 

chan, who had heard the whole story from san earlier while waiting in line for the bar, looked up to yunho in understanding. for only knowing you a short time, he seemed to know a lot about you. yunho didn’t have the time to dissect the thought. 

yunho lifted his head up, yeosang and san already looking at him, at you, concern living in the crinkle between their eyebrows. yeosang stepped forward and yunho shook his head, knowing you’d be mortified in the morning if this became a bigger deal than it needed to be. 

“you ready to go home?” yunho tipped his chin upward in the direction of his two friends, keeping you tucked under his elbow in front of him. 

san and yeosang nodded silently, he watched as yeosang pecked jeongin goodbye, as san began walking away without another word to chan. for you, they’d do anything, they’d drop anything— it didn’t matter. 

“will you guys be okay getting home?” chan asked yunho, shoulders back, chin tilted up. 

“yeah, you?” yunho answered, already turning on his heel, barely giving chan time to respond. he needed you out of here, out of the crowd, he needed to get you air.

“tell her to call me when she feels better,” chan calls behind you, and san responds, but yunho barely hears him. 

the group of them shuffled through the crowd— why were they so deep in, anyways?— tucked under his left armpit, yunho was basically dragging you through the dirt. you were slumped into his side, mumbling something, feet barely carrying you. he debated putting you on his back. 

“what are you saying, tiny?” yeosang asked, just a step behind you, closer to your ear than yunho was. 

“my jacket,” you said a little louder, strain on your voice, “jisung has it.” a sob leaves your lips and yunho almost smiles, the fact that your jacket was the icing on the cake is so you. even completely done up you stayed unapologetically yourself. 

“should we call ace?” san asked from yunho’s other side, his eyebrows still knitted together. 

“what the hell is ace gonna do?” yunho replied, his tone curt, “let him have his weekend with reia, he doesn’t need to know. tiny will be fine.”

as you got to the outskirts of the crowd, yunho was bending down in front of you, his arms reaching behind him to hoist you onto his back. you were a deadweight, head slumped over his shoulder, arms limp around his neck. he carried you through the venue towards the main entrance without a word. 

you groaned when you finally reached the parking lot, followed by, “yun, i don’t feel good.” 

“ah, fuck,” he muttered under his breath, coming to a stop. “can you wait until we get home?” 

“put me down now,” you said hurriedly, fear apparent in your tone, and yunho bent down right away, standing back up when your sneakers hit the pavement. you crouched down, yeosang had caught it before yunho did— he stood behind you, your hair wrapped into a ponytail in yeosang’s fist as you emptied the contents of your stomach where yunho had just been standing. 

the four of you didn’t say another word until you were five minutes away from your house, the drive spent in silence— you’d spent it with your head halfway out the window, your sunglasses halfway down your nose, eyes shut. if it weren’t for the tears that streamed down your face every now and then, yunho would’ve assumed you were already knocked out.

“should i call him?” you asked the car, everyone already knew who, eyes still closed as you sat back in the cushioned seat. “i miss him, jisung was nothing like him. i wish he was there.”  

yunho was lucky you couldn’t see him— he physically winced at your drunken words. san eyed him from the passenger seat, but he paid his friend no mind. 

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, teens,” yeosang said calmly from the backseat, sitting close to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. yunho watched as you laid your head on him, you didn’t answer him— maybe you fell asleep. he hoped you did. 

san carried you inside your house bridal style and laid you on your unmade bed, but yeosang was the one who had dressed you for bed. it became his responsibility the few times he’s had to do it— an unspoken rule amongst you. 

after a hot shower, yunho decided to check on you once more before heading to the guest room for bed. you were sitting over the side of your bed, eyes closed, chugging water from the bottle he’d placed on your nightstand. he only peeked his head in, but you caught him. 

“yunho?” you asked weakly, your voice small. 

he cursed under his breath, but he inched forward, coming into view. he looked around, clothes were strewn about your floor, clothes hanging out of the hamper— he didn’t realize until then how upset you really were. “you okay, teens?” 

you mumbled a mhm then laid back on your sheets, head falling onto your pillows. you turned your head to look at him, eyes crescents, “why can’t i find anyone that’s good for me?”

yunho sighed and walked forward, sitting at the edge of your bed. “you will.” 

“kissing jisung didn’t make me feel any better about mingyu,” you paused, yunho didn’t know if you’d continue. your lip trembled, “he was good for me.” 

yunho pulled his lips into a line— as much as he hated hearing it, if that's how you felt, he wouldn’t argue with you anymore. “why don’t you try calling him tomorrow?”

you whined, then closed your eyes, pulling your duvet over your body, up to your neck. “i’m tired of being mad at you.” 

yunho smiles at that— “i’m sorry i made you mad at me.” 

“will you stay with me tonight?” 

yunho’s eyes shoot open, his lips parting, his mind running a mile a minute. “what?”

“please,” you opened your eyes a little wider, they were still glassy— he was scared you might cry again if he said no, not that he wanted to say no. 

he couldn’t ask why, he couldn’t ask any questions at all. as you pulled up the corner of your duvet, in his tee shirt, all he could muster was “okay.” 

wanna go on the next date?

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags: @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00 @minvxq @moonlightgrleric

[sh1-n0bu]

Can't stop thinking about domming Calcharo

Idk for some reason I see him as breedable-

RAAAGHHH CALCHARO ASKS YEAAHHHHH🔥🔥 its actually super funny cuz ill be going “oh my cutie patootie🫶” “my shy princess🎀” “my wittle baby🥰” and then hes just there, murdering enemies in the background like “STRIKE👹SHIMMER👹unleash the fangs😡whos the prey now?”

service sub. you cannot tell me otherwise. brat? spoiled? nuh-uh. poor man never felt an ounce of normalcy in his life and his job is literally to serve to people who pays him, he’s a service sub

not exactly big on kinks or toys, i think. really likes soft and vanilla sex most of the times in private, in the comfort of your shared home where he can be vulnerable. but if he’s really feeling like it and too damn horny to function, he’ll indulge in the occasional handjob or blowjob behind a stacks of crates or walls

not exactly loud but not exactly dead silent either. not a full blown moaner, but he whines and whimpers so sweetly. likes to hug you or stay close to you so you can hear how quickly he’s turning into a putty in your hand while his hands desperately cling to your biceps or forearms for a little bit of grounding

won’t do anything without your permission, really. you wanna try something? sure. chastity cages? a ring around his cock? or even a vibrator you wanna shove up his hole while he tries to maintain composure? he’s all in for it. just please don’t torture him for too long, he might just lose his facade in the wrong place. would whine and apologize if he cums too quickly or without asking for your permission. weak knees ready to buckle beneath him while he whimpers out how sorry he is for cumming without your permission

he’s so cute :((

really loves markings, me thinks. scratching is fine but he really really really loves bitemarks. on him? on you? doesn’t matter. do whatever you want to him and he’ll take it like a good boy. don’t worry of his men seeing the marks, his clothes will cover him plenty, just hurry up and sink your fangs into his flesh, mark him as yours

might be into some predator/prey thing because of his voicelines,,,,,, and some size difference kink. he’s a big, intimidating guy so the thought of his lover being smaller than him even by a single inch and still being able to catch him or rat him out from hiding gets his pants feeling a little bit tighter. it doesn’t even have to completely sexual all the time too! just brush against him when reaching for something in the fridge, a hand over his waist when moving past him in a small space, guide him to give you some space with a hand on his lower back while you walk past him — and calcharo’s already thinking of how you could use those hand placements to fuck him dumb for the rest of the day

big nose, big dick!! and he really lives up to it. just like his body type, his cock is a bit on the fatter side i think. just a teensy bit thicker all around with a very cute sensitive tip. be sure to suck on his sensitive tip to get your puppy whining about how his mind is melting at record speed! he’ll be thrashing his legs and shaking his head, saying he can’t cum again but he refuses to safe word or push your head away. too bad calcharo, you’ll be crying in no time soon

hips mmmgghhhh… his hips are so squeeze-able when fucking him from behind. push him into a doggy style with his chest down against the bed, ass perched up for you to fuck his puckering hole. or just push him flat down against the mattress while you roughly fuck into him from behind while your hands leave bruises on his hips. he’ll whine about his cock being neglected as the poor thing weeps precum on the sheets, squished between his body and the material of the beddings with no mercy to touch himself. just slap his ass or squeeze his hips and he’ll learn to be a good boy again

also might be into some light pet play or simply being collared and leashed. y’know with the whole hound thing and stuff. leash him up and put him into a mating press and he’s whimpering and throwing his head back like the cute pup he is. will try to deny it, saying things like “n-not a… p-pu—uunngh haah aah annhcg puppy! not a puppy..!” with a shake of his head. just coo out that he does sound like one and he’s voice is sounding a bit higher as he whimpers loudly

idk why but i just have a feeling that he’ll be into sounding… idk whyyyyy okay?? it just,,, seems like something he would be into. has the fastest reactions and dry orgasms when his dick is all plugged up while your hand slowly jerks off his cock. you don’t even have to tease him and he’s already asking for a permission to cum