#some threaten to fuck your parent

[p0ssym1lker]

Tim: you better stop or else

Damian: or else what? Huh?

Tim, on the fucking edge: listen here you little shit, your grandfather has been trying to have children with me for some times now and if you don't stop I will say yes and become your step-grandfather

Damian: ... What?

Dick and Jason overhearing: yeah. What?

Tim, ignoring them: up to you, do you what some aunts or uncles? From me? I dare you-

[blujayonthewing]

opening the group chat for the first time today and there's like 200 new messages because everyone's Going Through It today it seems but one of my friends dropped 'I'm separating from [terrible boyfriend she's been living with for like eight years] for real this time, I just moved a bunch of stuff to my parents' and I'm losing my mind because y'all the subject changed almost immediately HEY HI EVERYBODY ELSE SHUT THE FUCK UP I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THAT???

[hella1975]

the 'i totally wrecked my walls' saga gets funnier bc ive spent the past few days trying to figure out how tf to get out of the inevitable fine and one thing i joked about was that i have a lot of hard hitters on my side if shit really does get nasty. like my flatmate's mum is an actual soliciter, my dad is a finance guy who can write an email so scathing you'll cry, my local friend's family owns half the property in the city and knows all the tricks of the trade when it comes to housing, and then there's just my mum who was like 'oh yeah i regularly used to dodge rent in my twenties. you'll be fine' and somehow she's the one im finding the most reassuring rn

[tpwrtrmnky]

hindsight

[ID: A two-panel comic with crudely drawn stick figures.

Panel 1: The lime green person is talking to the leaf green person and the moss green person.

Lime: "I... have a confession to make."

Leaf: "Go ahead."

Lime: "I want to rewatch the Wizard Child movies."

Leaf: "Didn't the wizard author get incredibly chromophobic?"

Lime: "Yeah I just... It's nostalgia you know? They meant a lot to me when I was a kid."

Panel 2: The three are on the couch.

Lime: "All right, let's go."

Leaf: "It's so weird how the wizard author just turned chromophobic though. Like I remember this series being pretty good for its time. It'll be weird seeing their work contrasting with their views now."

Moss: "I'm just glad we got the movies for free through normal and legal means. Heh."

End ID.]

[ID 2: Scenes from three Wizard Child movies.

Wizard Child and the Simplistic Morality: A slightly round child with a propeller hat is talking to a child with no hat.

Round child: "I am so fucking fat and greedy I am textually shown to be fat because I am greedy and also evil."

Hatless child: "You are to infer my moral purity from juxtaposition with this fat child. Woe is me for our shared parent has deprived me of a propeller hat."

Wizard Child and the Goodness of Wealth: An adult wizard is talking to the child, who now has a wizard hat.

Wizard Adult: "Wizard child you are secretly extremely rich."

Wizard Child: "I will form biases regarding the bankers all being triangular for some reason!"

Wizard Adult: "Your wealth is deserved because your true parent was Good and therefore you are also Good."

Wizard Child: "Now we should acquire consumer goods. Buy consumer goods!"

Wizard Child and the Dark Family History: A blue-grey horse person is talking to the wizard child.

Blue-grey: "No, wizard child. You don't understand. I am one of the good ones, because unlike the bad ones I don't try to spread my curse that makes you a blue-grey horselike creature to others!"

Wizard child: "Wow uncle blue-grey you are one of the good ones! I forgive you for being a horse because I am so good I would even forgive horses. I sure hope you don't conspicuously get killed off later in this movie!"

End ID 2.]

[ID 3: Oh hell no there are even more of these.

Wizard Youth and the Tokenistic Relationship Dynamics: A square headed wizard youth is talking to the former wizard child, now a wizard youth.

Square Wizard Youth: "Wizard child, as the only person with a square head in this entire series it is my duty to inform you that you are the savior of all people with square heads, too. Let us build a one-sided relationship that only furthers your character development, after which I will immediately lose all plot relevance."

Wizard Youth: "I will do this because I am a maturing wizard youth and need disposable relationships that don't threaten the endgame!"

Wizard Youth and the Escalation of Stakes: The Dark Wizard, a sort of grey-green person with a cloak, is pointing at Wizard Youth.

Dark Wizard: "Wizard Youth, I have returned!"

Wizard Youth: "Dark Wizard! Why are you green now?"

Dark Wizard: "Evil magic made me green! I am green with envy towards all who are good!"

Wizard Youth: "I will not engage with how you are clearly based on fascist ideologies and yet this narrative plays into fascist aesthetic sensibilities!"

Wizard Youth and the Post-Hoc Revelations: The Wizard Youth is leaning over their Wizard Mentor, who is laying in a pool of blood.

Wizard Youth: "Wizard Mentor no! You can't die!"

Wizard Mentor: "It is fine, wizard youth. My death will further your character development into a wizard adult. Also, I was secretly a very very dark purple this entire time. I never brought it up so I could retain narrative approval.

End ID 3.]

[ID 4: Wizard Adult and the Overdue Conclusion. Three panels. I am sorry.

Panel 1: The dark wizard is dueling the Wizard Adult with magic beams.

Dark Wizard: "Evil green beam!"

Wizard Adult: "Good red beam! Despite the enormous variety of magic in this series this is what our final battle looks like!"

Panel 2: Wizard Adult stands victorious over the dark wizard, who is dying on the ground.

Wizard Adult: "In the end, dark wizard, you were defeated because I am morally superior to you."

Dark Wizard: "I was a product of systemic failures. There will be someone like me again someday!"

Panel 3: Zoom in on wizard adult, who says:

"Not if I can help it. Because I am going to be a wizard cop now. The moral of this story is that all systemic issues can be solved by finding a bad guy to beat."

End ID 4.]

[ID 5: Four panels.

Panel 1: Return to the green trio on their couch, watching the TV say "The End." All are are silent.

Panel 2: They are sitting on the couch. Moss is looking at their phone.

Lime: "Yeah so there were maybe a few signs we missed because we were children."

Leaf: "Yeah. A few. Some."

Panel 3: Continue conversation.

Lime: "So what did you think, Moss?"

Panel 4: Zoom in on Moss, who says: "I've been zoned out on my phone since the second movie. They lost me at the magic stuff. Wizards aren't real."

End ID 5.]

Start - Previous - Next

[snekdood]

idc if ppl think im problematic i just want it to be for the actual real reasons i am

[thalassophobixodius]

help I keep looking on Pinterest to add spiritual or magical looking stuff to my DR board and I keep seeing very very toxic "christians" (wishing death upon others and trying to force them into your religion is the entire opposite of what christianity is supposed to be) telling the op to repent or spamming random passive aggressive bible quotes and like?? It's never on anything about shifting, it's never on anything that I could see a stereotypically toxic Christian getting mad at, it's literally just, little innocent gifs and word definitions?

(big rant/talk under cut)

How can you see a description of the word "sisu" and write a novel in the comments trying to convert op, how can you see a gif of an anime hand holding an orb and passive aggressively pretty much tell op they're going to hell by reminding them that your belief is that heaven and hell exists and doing anything you disagree with will send them to hell. How can you see a little cartoon gif and tell op to "repent", from WHAT, didn't in your beliefs God create everything? To you, God created nature and magic, to you God gave everyone the freedom to create art and animate, what do you mean people are going to hell for being free just as your god intended? You aren't truly Christian if you are like this, you are using religion as a disguise so that you can hurt and manipulate others; you are using a religion that isn't truly a belief system you tried to understand correctly and are morphing it into a Cult.

Religion isn't an excuse to go around blatantly trying to manipulate, guilt trip, gaslight, and invoke severe paranoia in random people. Do your knuckles drag when you walk? Did you forget about freedom of religion? Did you forget about freedom? I thought you said your God loved all his creation, and he told you to do the same and treat his creation with respect.

I've been friends/family with so many incredibly kind Christians, some made me somewhat uncomfortable unintentionally but most of the time I know it's just a slight trauma response, and I know they're my family and I know I'm accepted. Sometimes they can even feel more welcoming than anyone else! But that is, if they truly understand their religion . For what it's supposed to be teaching.

It's not all Christians, I know that as a fact; because that kind of stereotypical act ISN'T what Christianity is about! At all!

[arolesbianism]

Y'know I know I've said like a billion times I don't want to know shit abt Jackie's past but erm. Hi klei. Please just tell me if Josephine and Alan are her parents or some miscellaneous relative this is so important. Did Jackie seriously come from a household with a colonel and another person with a doctorate or does she just happen to be related to them this is so important for how I decide to move forward with my Jackie hcs and with my aus in general I need to know so bad tell me right fucking now

[masked-and-doomed]

Shut the fuck up for once. Maybe.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

So weirdly enough I'm sick of being treated like shit

[sweetiecutie]

Husband! K��nig is very happy that your parents decide to finally come over to your house for a week to spend Christmas and New Year with you two. König does genuinely enjoy their company - they’re his family now after all, not only by law but by feelings that connect you all.

But there’s a little but. Husband! König just can’t help but feel frustrated at the lack of intimacy between you two these past days. Not only have you been occupied with holiday preparations, shortening the usual amount of attention you gave him, but constant presence of both your parents around the house meant nearly to no sex. From fucking you whenever and wherever he pleased, König now had to settle for a quick hand- or blowjob from you in a bathroom before going back to your parents, all broad smiles and innocence in your eyes.

Husband! König who clenches his chiseled jaw, throwing his head back so it hits the wall behind with a soft ‘thud’ as he tries his absolute hardest to bite back all the moans and groans threatening to slip off his tongue. You coo sweet apologies to him as your hand fists his leaking cock before the warmth of your mouth wraps around thick shaft, sinking down on it until your nose is buried into small bush of dark blonde hair on König’s pubic.

König can barely stay upright, the lack of any sexual interaction between you two in these past days making him even more sensitive. A string of hissed curses falling from bitten lips as your throat moulded to the shape of his dick, clenching down on him as you bob your head up and down, fucking the cum out of your husband with your mouth.

Husband! König who doesn’t last for long, soon flooding your throat with his thick pearly cum, making you gag and cough around his softening dick. You slip your mouth off his cock, tucking it back into his boxers and pressing a small kiss right under his bellybutton, practically making König melt in your arms. “I’m sorry baby, I promise that I’ll make it up to you once they leave” you whisper, pressing another quick kiss to his tummy before standing up and exiting the bathroom, leaving your hubby all hot and bothered still>:[

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine going on adventures with Logan and Deadpool and you’re the voice of reason behind them 😆 Deapool the idiot with hot headed Wolverine that reader has to keep in check all the time

It’s not easy being the only person with common sense in this rag tag trio of yours.

^^ this is literally you babysitting two grown ass men that need to be kept on leashes and separated from one another in case they fight, again.

You are overworked and underpaid to be dealing with this shit, but there was no one else who had the patience for Wade nor the compassion and empathy for Logan as you did.

So unfortunately you were stuck with them for every mission given but despite how vastly different and incompatible some of you were -*cough* Logan and Wade *cough*- you three worked well enough together that you were a force to be reckoned with.

You were forced to face situations where wade would be pissing Logan off to the point his claws were out, and you had to pat the rugged man on his shoulder, wait for him to look at you as you pointed towards his claws;

‘Them. Away. Now.’ -you.

Wolverine: *grunts*

You: don’t give me attitude, put. them. away. Now.

Wade: ohhh Logan’s in trouble!

You would then look at Wade before pointing at him like a disappointed parent: and you, stop pissing him off if you like to keep your dick where it is! Or so help god me I’ll cut it off myself!

Wade: 😶

Wolverine: *smirks and puts the claws away*

You were their voice of reason, their angel on their shoulder, their peace keeper and confidant and they respect you for keeping up with their shit. However it wouldn’t be much like Logan and Wade to make your life easy as you often had to stand between the two as a barrier of sorts to keep them from killing each other.

When in actuality they are flipping each other off behind your back and it wasn’t until Logan slapped wades hand away, causing him to say ‘ow’ did you look between the two of them as they acted like they weren’t acting like children a few moments ago.

You: I’m so sorry you’ll have to excuse them.

*Meanwhile Wade and Logan fighting, stabbing each other in the balls in the background*

You: WOULD YOU TWO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!

Wade and Logan; *immediately stop and point at each other* he started it!

They were the reason you had grey hairs at an early age you swore this to anyone who’d listen. They were a pain in your ass, thorn in your side and a headache waiting to happen but the moment you were threatened, Wade and Logan put aside their differences and acted accordingly by standing protectively in front of you.

Logan: I would shut the fuck up if I were you bub.

Wade: oh look what you did, you made daddy angry.

Logan and you looking at Wade: 🤨😐

You: can you not make everything into a sex joke?

Wade, booping you on the nose; it comes with the territory peanut.

Logan: be serious for fucking once, they’ve just got threatened!

Wade: you don’t think I want our pookie to get hurt? (why do I think he’d say pookie unironically)

You: kill me now and end my misery. Please someone, anyone. Preferably pyro. (He’s hot, literally and figuratively)

Being stuck with Logan and wolverine is a curse and a blessing at the same time, which one you want to focus on more is up to you. However you three were incredibly loyal to each other, even if you do piss each other off from time to time, but you’d never betray one another for it wasn’t an option.

You were stuck with these two whether you liked it or not.

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”��

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[sexilene]

boy nextdoor!jj is so hot hehe him choking me while he fucks me in a matting press AHHHH. want to see him smirking down at me through his floppy blonde hair wet with sweat as he puts his other hand over my mouth so my parents don’t wake up :3

ohmygoodness stop it right now. the way i smiled reading thisss pleaseeee!!! adding this to the kinktober list cuz why not!! #19 (ignore any spelling mistakes sorry lol!)

anotha little boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

when your boyfriend does manage to sneak in through the window by climbing on a tree…he usually spends the night. your parents go to sleep fairly early, like soon after dinner early, so that gives you and jj some alone time in the dark without worrying about one of your parents randomly entering your room to check on you. it's happened before and though jj is getting better at running to find a hiding spot, it's is not ideal.

your parents figure you like to fall asleep to the tv you have in your room watching your little movies, and that it’s the movies making the little sounds. while that is true on some nights, this time around both the tv, you and your boyfriend are making sounds.

“jay!” you squeal when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending down again to press his flushed hard cock deeper into you. “shhh, gotta be quiet, like a little mouse, quiet okay?” he shushes you, your little movie still on in the background, providing a decent amount of light to illuminate his features and yours.

“uh huh…okay” you nod, still a little dazed due to the past two orgasms he gave you by fingering you a little over 20 minutes ago. once he pushes into your puffy pulsing heat, he wraps a strong hand around your throat and starts to squeeze down, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and grip the hand on your neck. jj is practically trapping you there, underneath him getting incessantly plowed by his big dick.

“wanna hold my hand?” he offers you the hand that’s not on your neck, you mewl at his sweetness, he’s still trying to make you feel as loved and safe as possible even if he is fucking you like he hates you.

“mhmm!”

“here babydoll” he takes your hand in his, the sounds of skin slapping skin faintly bouncing off the walls, not wanting to risk waking the whole neighborhood up with the way he really wants to be pounding into you right now.

your lips are swollen from his kisses, drool threatening to escape the corners of your lips, tear stains on your cheeks glisten due to the lighting, your hair all messy, and still jj thinks you look like the prettiest little thing.

“y’look cute, c’mere” your boyfriend grunts, pulling you up by your neck for another kiss, “harder jayjay, please harder!” you whisper, needy as ever.

“i know babe,” jj chokes you harder and uses his other hand to rub your clit in fast circles, “g’nna cum again!” you squeal out.

“gonna wake up your parents, hold on,” he takes his hand off your neck and covers your mouth to keep you from making any more loud noises, as much as he loves to hear them….

“alright kittie cat no more screamin’ or im gonna have to press your face into the pillow,” he whispers in your ear.

“mph- nmm” your words muffled by his big hand,

“yeaaaah good girl, almost done baby, just keep takin’ it…” he bends your legs back further into a mating press and starts thrusting in again. the position causing his dick to go in deeper and hit the spots that make you melt. that combined with the way both your bodies all sticky with sweat and how he smells all salty and musky, makes you roll your eyes back and then squeeze them shut.

“h-ha…shit, y’so warm and wet holy fuck i love you so much.” jj grits through his teeth, bringing that hand back down to play with your pulsing clit. you whine into his hand as you cum hardddd on his dick, squeezing him so hard he can barely pull out to thrust in again.

“shhh sh sh, there you go…reaaal yummy huh?” he coos, bringing that hand back up to choke you again, “baby girl likes getting choked huh? dont’cha?”

you try and make a sound but you just can’t with how hard he’s squeezing your neck. “yeeeeaaah she likes it, little pussy gushes on me when i squeeze your throat like…thisss…” he gives a few final hard sloppy thrusts, letting go of your neck to give you a breathing break, sweat dripping down his chest, before he shoots hot strings of cum into your cervix.

he doesn’t pull out to keep all that cum stuffed in you and bends down to give you wet sloppy ‘good job’ kisses, whispering an ‘i love you’ after every kiss.

“think we were pretty quiet this time?” your boyfriend whispers looking into your eyes, and all you can do is give him doe eyes, pout and let out a little “mph!” ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[simpjaes]

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 

“Probably? no, maybe?” 

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 

 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 

Hottest thing ever. Really. 

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 

You still laugh, and it still hurts. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

[monstersflashlight]

To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)

A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)

Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder

You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.

Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.

“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.

He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.

You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.

He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.

“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.

He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.

“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.

“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.

He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.

“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.

You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.

“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.

“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.

He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.

“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.

He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”

You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.

Problem is… You never do.

The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.

And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.

He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.

Until one day all shifts (pun intended).

You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.

“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.

He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”

“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.

He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.

“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.

And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.

“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.

You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.

“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.

“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.

There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.

“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.

You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.

You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.

They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.

You are caged once again.

You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.

The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.

When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.

He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.

“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.

“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.

“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.

It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.

As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.

“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.

He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.

“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.

“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.

“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.

“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.

“Make me fully yours,” you say again.

His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.

Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.

He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.

“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.

He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.

You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.

“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.

He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.

From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.

“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.

You pass out.

When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).

He feels perfect.

[iplayghoul]

let the light in

xx: cowboys! eren & onyankopon x reader . .

9.9k words — life on a ranch, porn with plot, tension, feelings, eventual sex, fucking in.. mud & rain, reader is referred to as 'she', 'girlie' etc, use of 'daddy', lots of spit & being dirty, reader is a country bumpkin, light arguing, thumb in ass, pussy spanking, spitroasting, cunnilingus, crying, some squirting & creaming, lots of shortened words & punctuation (country dialect duhh), not proof read sorry, awkward moments.

notes: been writin dis since december 2023... enjoy u guys :] rbgs appreciated

“hiya mrs. brown!”

worn out boots of marble cake pink and brown swirls, graze the dirtied gravel near the elderly woman's cottage as you slip from the horse. mary-lou, you affectionately call her, dusting her pinked moist nose with a pat before hobbling onto the stone path. over the horizon, the pastel orange and yellows of the sun threaten to melt into your skin, kissing it golden as the morning begins and so do your deliveries. 

golden-blonde, french curl braids woven into your roots fall past your lower back ending in thick, loose curls, some held together by bows and others hair clips. they bounced with every step. mrs. brown was the first on your list of deliveries today. on cool mornings like this when spring teases its approach, you often bake little treats for the other villagers. apple tarts, blueberry jellies, cherry pies with freshly picked fruits, warm buttery honey-milk breads and healthy breakfast muffins: all made with ingredients grown at home! but, we'll explore the garden later.

calling this a village was a bit of a stretch, realistically, a happy delusion at most. acres of farm property was shared by each of the residents whose homes were nearby, despite the farm areas creating distances of land behind them. tok, tok, tok! the haste below mary-lou's hooves pulled you back to your task as you rearranged the goodies and stepped onto the wooden plank. mrs. brown sat atop her rocking chair, crocheting a blanket you'd commissioned. a chuckle, “ [  ] , dearest, always in y’head, aren't yuh?” mrs. brown softly muttered, deep brown skin crumpled besides her lips, short pastel curls tickling her ears. hands busied with the neapolitan coloured yarn. her countryside twang was a pleasant aerated tone, reminding you of your own parents. 

you huff and offer a smile. “mrs. brown I've—”, “must I remind you, dearest, eleonora,” the playfulness in her voice offers it a quiver. “and let me guess . . . cherry pie?” thin, quivering lips stretch to a smile, your plump ones mimic hers as you nod with a sweetened expression. “yes, eleonora, I know how much y’love cherry pies n’–”, “and my grandson does too, y'know!” you stop to stare at her as she wears nothing but a smug look on her face, her head bobbing side to side with a ‘you know damn well’ manner. 

eleonora lived mostly alone. when her daughter married, giving her a sole grandson they'd moved to the city. luckily for her, and you, her grandson moved back on his own to the country. he fixed cars, motorcycles, tractors– you name it, he's got it covered. she said his name was onyankopon or, ony’. to be honest, you spied around one time to catch a glimpse of him. back when you first moved in and eleonora became immediately smitten with the idea of you and her grandson as potential lovers, you snuck around where ony's ranch was, peaking at who the man could be. you barely saw him really, the small flash of him you saw all greasy with engine oil was so far away! but infatuation always grew in you from a small bud, slowly growing before flower petals started spilling out your throat.

“are ya’ stoppin by him too, darlin’?” she pries further, “I ‘dunno els’ . . . y'know I haven't actually met ‘em right?”, “oh I know dear,'' she breathes, “ he's strong, he's tall, he surely is handy ‘round the house and- and he's not ‘onna dem toxic masculine things i hear ‘bout on the Internet! I think he's had a boyfrien’ b'fore, that must count!” she relieves your hands of the heavy treats while speaking, “eleonora . . .”, “c'mon darlin’, you've got t'get married someday, n’ imma’ be the flower gal!” 

all you can do is shake your head and accept the sweet kiss to the cheek she offers you before trotting back to your horse. mary-lou grew rather impatient! settling her brown and white spotted body to the ground awaiting your return. to be completely honest, you craved love. the partying, sex and relationships of college got old and moving here right after left you high and dry with the weight of ‘unlovable’ bearing down on your shoulders. the lack of men your age was . . . a troublesome dilemma but who were you to complain? you hiked yourself back onto mary-lou and continued your journey to the next cottage home. 

looking over the blueberry skies and whipped cream clouds kept you in grandiose delusions of a love so pure and sweet, like powdered sugar that you could indulge in, maybe one day.

♡

“down girl, down!” 

The rough, deep voice shakes the silence near the upcoming ranch. after your deliveries, you'd end up with a few apple-cherry tarts remaining, sometimes the neighbours are vacationing in the city, or insist you keep some! by this time, the sun shone fully now, its warmth tingling your skin. “awe, shucks, man!��� another voice caused your brows to furrow, peering up ahead at the ranch . . . the one in which eleonora's grandson resided. from what you could see without the sun in your eyes, two men of tall statures– roughhousing with gorgeous horses. the one in the cowboy's hat was doing a terrible job of trying to calm one of them. their manes were a beautiful silky white, shining healthily under the sun as they lifted their front legs to the air before trotting around the . . . shirtless men again. mother would scold you now if she could see you openly ogling at the two, you push that thought to the back of your mind.

mary-lou slows on your command beside their ranch gate, huffing and happily shaking out her mane as she watches the other horses play. something possesses you to hop off with the remaining tarts, awkwardly shuffling to the fence– your pink-brown boots were worn mismatched to your strapless white lace top and similar mini-skirt. “uh . . . howdy there fellas!” both men turned to your direction, blocking their eyes from the sun and beginning to stroll over.

the closer view made your breath catch in your throat. the one on the left, you assume is el's grandson, his skin was a dark mahogany brown, he glistened slightly with sweat in the sun, deeply defined muscles prelude veins below his belly button then covered by bright blue jeans and black cowboy boots to match his hat.

he had a handsome face. 

thick two-toned lips spread to reveal a bright smile, a few teeth plated with gold caps as he teased the man to his right. this man had dark, black, shining curls that rested atop his shoulders, two eyebrow slits decorated with piercings, matching ones on his . . . pretty lips. his skin was a dusted tan, sunkissed tone and he wore black jeans atop his brown boots. You couldn't miss the tattoos that crept up the side of his abdominals, you were curious.

“how c'n we help ya’, miss?” the left spoke up and your cheeks felt hot, it's been a while since you heard that pet name, you chalked it up to the blazing sun. “well, uh, you're eleonora's grandson, right?” you nibble on your nails nervously, he nods, “I just . . . thought it’d be nice to give y'all these extra treats i baked.” pushing the basket in their direction and allowing the dark haired one to peep under the cloth, he had a mischievous look to him and he elbowed the other in the ribs with a slick smile, “wass ya’ name, pretty? ‘m eren, dis is ony’,” he pointed between them, “ n’ y’made these y’self, ma’?” eren pulls out a tart, staring down at you through long eyelashes, “oh! uh I‘m [  ], n’ yes! I did n' I grew all'em fruits m'self too!” you bounce on the heels of your boots, nervously.

ony’ stays mostly quiet you've noticed, taking in your outfit as well, his eyes raking over you. eren warmly feeds him a bite of the tart as their horses trot over to mingle with mary-lou. “how long ya’ been livin’ ‘round here, sugar?” ony’ speaks up soft and mellow, grabbing himself his own tart to taste. eren reaches out to pet mary-lou. “i guess it’s been a about a year now! y’see i moved out ‘round here after college.” you nibbled your shiney bottom lip, “what ‘bout y’all? your grandma talks ‘bout you all the time, but, i ain’t really seen you round here?” you turn to eren who makes a kissy face at mary-lou before turning to you. “i mostly tend to the farm ma’, as y’can tell, ‘m better with the animals than ony’ here.” he flashes you a smile and props his arms against the fence biting his lip and lowering closer to your eye level. ony’ playfully smacks his arm, flashing a gorgeous smile with his gold teeth sparkling in the sun, “shut up, man.”

you look away quickly, catching yourself staring at his lips, he certainly doesn't miss it. you totally push the basket towards eren’s arms, “y’c’n have the basket y’know i always weave more, i’ve gotta get goin, now,” you rush, “wait– take m’ number, pretty,” eren offers before reciting it a couple times so you’ve got it down. “n’ which onna’ these ranches ‘s yours, mama?”, you're mounting mary-lou once more, “it's not too far! it's the ranch with the blue fence n’ the pond out front!” 

♡

the days after that remained uneventful, with no deliveries of any kind, you preferred to remain on the ranch tending to the animals and house work. you'd never texted eren, only saved his number and stalked his contact profile . . . and opened his chat section many-a-times without saying anything. taking a liking to someone new is hard. you don't forget the many times a partner toyed with you, assuming innocence and naivity of you based soley off your appearance, then doing whatever they'd wanted behind your back. you were past that now, hopefully at least; the concrete walls you used to block others out wasn't something you'd liked to be reminded of.

padding out the back door, the coldness of the stone path chills beneath your bare feet. your toes painted with the cutest design within your artistic range, accompanied by the musical arrangement of your anklet. you pick up a dirtied bucket with the many things you'd needed to complete your chores for the morning, taking a long look at the expanse of the ranch. 

a deep breath of clean air, healthy green fields relieve your eyes of their stress; partly cloudy skies was the forecast! weather for hanging outside, the cumulus clouds indicated it to be the perfect day for fishing too! the pond was still, the little lambs were just waking up in their pen, the gardenias were blooming; the white dexter cattle mulled around, seemingly bored behind the fence. just as you begin to walk by with the bucket of feed, the cows behind let out soft, deep ‘mooooo’s’: a ‘good morning!’ greeting in their own way. each receiving gentle pets to their fur.

your mental list of duties was shorter today: pet the cattle, inspect the lambs & brush their fur, throw feed for the chickens & clean their coupes, feed the dogs, feed the fish.

you couldn't help but wear your best little dress to do the tasks today, a simple white thing that cupped your breasts just right. “oh, how are ya’ buttercup!” you squealed in delight as the silky white wolf dog rushed up to lick your feet, his opposite onyx counterpart, bentley offered a short bark to show her delight, sitting peacefully and obediently. she'd recently fallen pregnant with pups, confusing as you'd given both animals the proper precautionary procedures! while filling their food bowls, you couldn't help but be reminded of eren and ony’. your toes dug into the grass a bit, excited at the idea of . . . sharing your home with someone else again. both men seemed pleasant, highly attractive, but feelings always confused you. perhaps they were only being decent human beings to you, nothing more.

to be honest, you hadn't had the best history with relationships. it's part of– it's one of the main reasons you'd decided to move out to the countryside. casual sex was fine, yeah, whatever, you enjoyed it. however, when it comes to your relationships, you refuse to believe you attract shitty people. from making fun of how excited your are by things, to the way you dressed, wore your makeup, your hair, how you cry— the whole works had been used against you. there was only so much of it you could handle. moving away meant . . . fresh start, new people, new experiences. and most importantly, a place where everyone did as they pleased. as much as people think gossip goes around in small villages, the country area was mostly pleasant. neighbours traded crops for items, enjoyed each other's company and minded their own business.

sitting beside the pond, bentley and buttercup eagerly cuddled up at your side; the joy this life brought you was comparable to hot chocolate at the end of a winter day. now you think about how long its been since you could cuddle someone on a cold day. it probably hasn't been since your mother was alive. now was a good time to visit eleonora.

♡

a raspberry lemon loaf warmed your hands as the weather began to cool. the trudge to eleonora's ranch was tranquil, pleasant animals, butterflies and chirping birds kept you occupied for most of it. that is, until your boots dragged to a stop in the dirt, noticing a familiar face in el's front yard. 

onyankopon's hair was short, brushed into smooth waves atop his head and faded on the sides, revealed by the lack of cowboy hat. he was shirtless, once again, knee deep in the dirt of his grandmother's yard where he dug the soil for new plants. you swallow, nibbling a plump lip that made your mouth spring from the strawberry flavoured gloss. a colder breeze blew up under your thighs, blowing your simple little dress slightly; furrowing your brows with concern as you peered at the beautiful bright sky, you force yourself to walk up to the gate and begin to unlatch it. 

eren's grassy green eyes meet you first, his hands busily feeding a plump cherry into his mouth. pretty pink lips sucked them in, unwelcoming to the juicy red droplets that escaped the cherry. he licks his lips to pull them in. you take a deep breath and focus on not dropping the raspberry lemon loaf. “h-hiya everybody!” you greet, noticing eleonora seated in her usual spot on the rocking chair of her porch while observing the two men. 

you hold the loaf somewhat close to you and swallow hard, walking along the stone path of which both men were at either side of. ony’ in the dirt and eren manspreading on the front steps. you held eyes with the ground. “howdy ony’, eren, nice to see you two ‘gain,” you say in a pleasant mumble as you make way up the stairs to eleonora. “brought you this raspberry lemon loaf els’!” you look at her smiling slightly, caught off guard by that signature smug look she held. what insane thoughts about your love life could she be brewing now? the silence from the two men was noticeable too, you were sure they'd turn to look at you as you presented the treat for el’, “my, my! well doesn't this just look lovely!” she claps clammy hands clad in flower themed rings and laughs jolly. “ony’, son, could you get us some tissues n’ forks? oh- n’ eren darlin’ why don't you bring out the pitcher ‘f lemonade with s'm glasses.” the two men stand as she calls upon them, uttering out their deep ‘yes ma'am's’ as they towered above you in walking by. your eyes trailed them slightly before turning back to eleonora who never (not once) misses your silent pining.

ony’ wore his jeans low on his waist, the band of his boxers showed off its maker's name. eren, on the other hand, wore a white wife-beater below unbuckled blue overalls, leaving them hanging over at his waist. “so, have ya’ found y'self a boyfren’, honey?” eleanora asks somewhat loudly as the two men shuffle around the kitchen bearby and your eye widen. “now what kinda’ question is that els’?” you sputtered, “you know I haven't got one.” eleonora giggles like a school girl. you take a cool seat onto the steps. eren and ony’ share small smiles as they return with lemonade and dishes. ony’ takes a seat in a chair opposite eleonora, elevated above you whilst eren makes himself comfortable back in his spot across from you on the steps. raspberry lemon loaf is shared around with the cool glasses of not-too-sweet lemonade to wash it down, eating brought silence besides low groans from the two men who seemed to enjoy your baking. their groans were not sensual, but pressing your thighs together was still a must as a reaction to the unexpected sounds of pleasure. fuck, you felt like a creep. eleonora complimented your skills, asking, “[  ] , did ya’ grow these in the box gardens y'made?” you nod and swallow quickly, all attention to you as eren mumbles ‘box garden?'. ``yea els’, the box gardens ar’ doin’ great, but I've got some extra wood around I think I'mma try to make a few more like the boxes I bought from the market!” eleonora smiles as if she were expecting to hear you randomly bring up your recycling duties. 

“ony’, can't you n’ eren build those boxes f’[  ]? I strongly believe lil’ ol’ her shouldn't handle all dat’ wood . . .” you internally blush deeply at the innuendo and take the final bite of your slice of the loaf. eren speaks up, “y'sure right on we can, els’ . . . y'okay wit’ us helpin’ y'out ma?” he takes a quick glance up at ony, locking eyes with him who also lets his stare above you burn into your scalp. “s– sure, I don't mind!” you mutter out lightly and eleonora gives a jolly clap, “well ain't that just darlin’! the day's young, y'all can get started right now!” you have to hold your breath to avoid your last sip of lemonade going down your larynx. the two men mentioned how they're not busy the rest of the day and wouldn't mind before you can even collect yourself. somehow, coming over to eleonora always results in you being roped into another scheme of hers.

and just like that, you found yourself on a quiet . . . and awkward walk back to your ranch with the two young men following closely behind you. anxiety bubbled in your stomach, clamping your lips shut to avoid letting the insecure feeling from escaping your lips. the nerves were getting to you with every second that passed by. “s-so, uh– wassup wit y'all ‘round here?” they both walk up to match your pace. “oh, well, ony here prefers to do all the technical shit like– fixin’ cars n’ all'at.” eren shoves his palms into the pockets of his overalls, walking up ahead where he could look back at the two of you while talking, he maintains glances with onyankopon that you just don't seem to understand. “I prefer to stay on the ranch n’ watch the animals– y'got any besides that horsie?” 

“oh– yea i've got m’ horse, mary-lou, two wolfies: bentley n’ buttercup.” a sweet smile stretches on your face, tummy warming a bit. “oh! and I've got names f'all my fish in the pond, my little lambs– oh they're just the cutest! a–and my fluffy cows! they're lovely,” you clasp your hands in excitement, eyes following your footsteps, sputtering happily over the animals. “gosh, n’ I'm tryin’ out a little butterfly area in my front garden, but m’ not the best at it, can’t tame butterflies y’know— they pee on ya’ too! that's fuckin’ crazy,” you reveal with a giggle. as you look up to ask the two a question, you can't help but blush, embarrassingly at that. eren and ony stared at you with pleasant smiles, deeply dimpled too. “oh my, m’ sorry for my ramblin’ how rude of me–”,”no. no, keep talkin’ pretty.” ony's deep voice encourages you and you peer curiously at him: trying to figure him out. he turns away from you licking his lips and spares eren a look before he starts walking again. it urges you both to continue onto the ranch as well, eren shakes his head with a chuckle; he thinks he’s got a handful on his hands. 

“y’got a boyfren’ ‘round here, [  ] ?” eren brushes hair over his shoulders, asking the question calmly whilst maintaining a look up the path, ony’s arm brushed yours as he walked close by. “well– no, what about you?” you melt your lips together before stuttering out,”wait, not– i mean, girlfriend . . . well– i don’t care–!” ony barks out a laugh while eren turns around to give you a bright smile, all three of you burst into giggles. “nah, no girlfren’ or boyfren’, ma’.” ony speaks up gently, “but, uh– me n’ E’ might be lookin’ for a third to make us official, i dunno.” your eyes widen but ony gives a nonchalant shrug, handsome face glowing with a smug smile like he didn't just drop #thebomb on you. it reminded you of his grandmother, you look to eren who’s looking back at you and onyankopon with just a slight grin and your breath catches in your throat. “oh! there’s the ranch just up ahead,” you blurt out and skip past eren, scurrying over to unlatch the gate to your front garden as the two followed you in.

now your heart felt like it could melt. like– like a huge strawberry ready to burst! what did ony’ mean by that?  oh, how you felt like a dizzy little dove. luckily the dogs rushed up to you, excitable and ready to meet the new visitors who they eagerly sniffed. ony’ and eren were happy to roughhouse on sight laughing with the dogs and complimenting the patch of primula's you were trying to grow, the pretty pinki-ish flowers were just beautiful. you lead them through your home, overly conscious about each step you took while they surely eyed every nook and cranny of your decor. “um- y'guys need anything? I've got some snacks . . .”, “nah, we're good,” eren mumbled, sounding obviously distracted by their nosey observations of your living space. you hear the tone of your dryer going off just as you unlatch the netted back door that served as another layer next to the already opened wooden one. 

“holy shit,” ony’ whispered, your organization of the backyard was impeccable. clean and solid fencing around the cows, plants on the left with storage on the other. you left the two to walk out into the cold breeze that passed by as they observe the surroundings and the pile of wood waiting for them; all while you quickly rushed to the laundry room nearby to dislodge your clothing and stuff them into a basket. you hurry back out to join them.

“so, here's one of the other boxes i made,” you gesture to the dirty box filled with planted Spanish thyme, “i know it looks kinda wonky but, hopefully you guys can do better,” you offer an awkward laugh and sit on the back steps, legs crossed. 

eren and onyankopon share a look, then grab some planks bringing them more into your line of view with some of the tools nearby and sitting in the grass. even in your own home, you felt a little out of place. in silence, eren and ony’ shared alot of chemistry you didn't understand. despite this, what ony’ said on the way here never left your mind. “y'guys got alot ‘f experience . . . relationship-wise?” you scratch behind your ear. they worked separately lining up wood and nailing them into place, muscles working diligently. “mm, yea. ‘guess y'can say that ma',” eren glances at ony who hums low and offers you a small smile.

“it's jus’ that– ‘m thinkin’ ‘bout watchu said earlier . . .” you blink, fumbling, “unless that was like a joke ‘r somethin’—”

“i wasn't joking.” onyankopon confirms calmly, his jaw tight. you allow the silence to continue for a few beats, eyes flickering back and forth between the two and your hands petting the dogs that came to lay beside you. “we don't expect ya’ to jus’ trust us like that, missy,” eren offers gently, shoving his curls into a small bun and you nibble your bottom lip. 

ony's brows furrow and he's hammering the last few nails into his box before he speaks up. “how c'n we get to know you ma’? me n’ E’ been . . . chillin’ for over a year. since college, actually, n’ we been watchin’ y'too. w’dont expect you to feel the way we do in 10 minutes or even in a day. let us get t'know you.” you squint a little.

“y'serious?” your chest feels a little hot and you're praying to the gods you don't fuck this up. “c's i don't intend on gettin played wit’ ‘specially not out here, y’hear me?” and you don't mean to raise your voice a little, the sounds just flow out. “hey, hey now,” eren pushes his finished work aside and stands, tugging his overalls up, hands resting on his hips. “we don't got no bad intentions, sugar, chill wit’ us,” and you blink up at him, unmoved.

“m'kay, let's just say i decided to ‘chill’ wit’ y'guys,” you stand up, fold your arms and start, “what exactly are we g'nna do, hm?” you look back and forth between them, not missing the way your buttercup whines on the steps where she lay, evidently fed up with all the chatter. “y'got 3 seconds n’ don't say sex. one,” 

“who said anythin’ ‘bout sex?” ony’ joins you two as he puts the tools down, “two,” “yea, y'better shut that shit up. let's bake sumn together, show us around y'day, hang wit’ us at our ranch, talk about shit. fuck y’mean sex?” you stubbornly stay silent and stare. eren’s jaw bone pokes out with the way he clenches it. “we're not lookin’ for sex. if we wanted sex from you we coulda seduced you a long time ago, sugar,” he shrugs with a smile and you lick your lips, sighing. “okay, ‘m sorry. I’–I'm such a bad host,” you mutter out, “y'all want anything to eat? or some water.” you hear a low ‘okay’ from ony’ so you shuffle away to the kitchen to grab some bottles for them.

you tried to focus on the coldness of the bottles on the way back as a way to cool your temperament. “i moved out here wit’ intention ‘f startin’ fresh n’ shit.” you start, tossing them bottles before plopping yourself beside buttercup who nuzzled her cold nose into your thigh. the two men were sitting once again, evidently having spoken to each other in your absence.

your voice was shaky as you took a deep breath, garnering the courage to speak up for how you felt, “i'm tired of gettin’ dogged out, n’ played wit’ n’ allat bullshit.” you pout.

“‘m not exactly sure how gettin’ involved wit’ two handsom’ fellas is gonna help me figure out to– to i dunno, regulate m’ emotions.” you frown and shove some braids back behind your ear, “s’ like i damn near avoided it– i moved back t’the country damnit.” a sigh, “i cant just figure out how to adore n’ love– people again or if i'mma be able t'dish it out as much as before.”

“you get what i mean?” your ramble ceased as you finally look up from your focus on your knees and look back and forth between ony and eren. ony chuckles softly while eren offers you a smile and speaks up.

“we'll take it slow, you'n gotta ‘love’ anybody yet, mama,” ony nods at his words, “gotta build a friendship wit'chu first, we not playin’ ‘round.” 

♡

a week or so passes in which life goes by as normal. you spend your days busying yourself with gardening and grooming your animals, baking treats and new concoctions. the only exception is eren and onyankopon have somehow easily squeezed themselves into your life.

on your deliveries you hear, “howdy, ma',” they chase across their lawn and hop across the fence to drag you inside and sit you down in the warm house where the two eagerly pester you to try the . . . ‘shrimp alfredo’ they whipped up. 

thus, the two would end up in your kitchen, breathing over your hair whilst you instructed them on the proper technique. “naw, i don’ told E to do all'at,” onyankopon protests. so too do they pester mary-lou and your dogs, roughhousing and giving them baths much to their dismay.

through many experiences you learn, onyankopon isn't particularly fond of being tickled, or of wearing shirts. he stays shirtless almost all twenty-four hours of the day and you can only avert your eyes. eren is obsessed with overalls and has an array of them: gray ones, distressed ones, short ones, and he never buckles them properly.. on the ranch, the two gorgeous white haired horses were named armin and reiner, two friends they shared from college. sparkling like diamonds as you're given the opportunity to ride them each around the boys’ ranch in the golden sun. you'd also learned that the two were sexually . . . fluid, they'd called it. vaguely, they'd mentioned their sex lives and based on what they said you couldn't help but assume they were talking about each other. who else was there out here except you?

“yeeehaw! can't catch up, can'ya’?” eren howls and shouts as he trots across the ranch on his horse, ony lagging behind in the chase. here you sat on a wooden little bench near the steps of ony' and eren's ranch; clad in a simple white cropped tank and blue jeans with a chunky belt, your cream coloured cowboy hat sit pretty atop your head. a pretty calico cat licked at your bare feet and nudged you for pets. 

at this point, you felt yourself slipping. it was obvious by now you'd grown to enjoy each other's company and serious conversations were imminent.

what were we, how will the dynamics work, what would they expect from you? just then you felt a tap to your forehead.

“heya, girlie,” eren squats down before you to grab your attention, “watchu, thinkin’ ‘bout,” ony’ mumbled, toying with a toothpick between his teeth. 

you smack glossy lips together, “jus’. . . ‘bout us three y'know? how- like, where do we go fr'm here huh?” your eyes flutter, cheeks warming. you feel the silence actually, eren and ony’ are doing that stupid thing where they talk to each other with their eyes. 

butterflies flap their wings about, joyous as ever. it makes you smile a little, as you're beginning to grow nervous. “let's talk inside ma’,” onyankopon suggests, stepping past you into the house where eren follows. 

“me n’ ‘ren c'n take care ‘f each other n’ you, know that?” 

you all shuffle onto the dark gray couch in the living space. ony’ and eren's ranch had a deep modern aesthetic. dark oak accents adorned both the outside and inside, complimented by gray and brown shades of furniture. 

“i know that . . . ,” you pout, 

“so wassup,” eren stares you down, the emerald swirl of his eyes warmed your belly yet you couldn't maintain eye contact with him for long, eren just had that kind of stare without realizing it himself.

“‘m g'nna be frank, ion wanna impose on nothin’ y'folks got . . . n’ my past relationships ain't been the best.” you huff and continue, “‘m jus’ puttin’ that out there. i feel like we've been talkin’ for a while n' I'm fond of y'all.” 

“i jus’ don't wanna be the one to mess things up,” you finish in a whisper. 

onyankopon hums low and eren plays with his lip ring, “n’ das’ all, girlie?” he asks and pursed his lips, dimple deepening at that. you give a nod and a small ‘yup’ while intertwining your hands onto your knees that were pressed together. “y’ talk to us, we talk to you, got that? if it's an issue y'got: don't hesitate to let us know,” ony’ iterates.

eren makes a noise of agreement, “y’communicate everythin’ wit us, sugar, we're serious,” and you nod slowly. “‘kay . . . i get that,” your eyes feel a little wet with emotion, ones you're not too sure of yourself.

you were happy to hear them affirming their commitment yet still anxious for the future. regardless, you couldn't help but lurch forward, you grab the back of eren's neck to press a sweet strawberry jelly flavoured kiss to his cheek, leaving a baby pink glossy print on his cheek along with a loud ‘mwah’ as you smiled. similarly, you crawl over his lap to do the same to ony’ who only bit back a grin, gold capped teeth glistening in the light much like the glossed smudge on his face.

♡

inevitably came the days you'd call the ‘honeymoon’ phase in a relationship, except it lasted what felt like forever.

these days you preferred to be cuddled up in your bedroom, legs being warmed by a black, gray and white blanket you were committed to crocheting. with a couple dark, gloomy days where the usual creamy clouds frowned down on you, the animals often retreated to their pens and little beds of hay to seek warmed from stormy weather. buttercup and bently invaded each others personal space in their dog beds down at the living room, you smile a little at the thought.

“yeen gotta be like that, ony’,” you hear eren groan in a mischievous pout as the two men exit your bathroom smelling of your bath soap. onyankopon mumbles something of ‘’s a stupid idea’. you giggle under your breath, hands hard at work weaving and looping the thick yarn for the blanket. 

“ [  ] , watchu’ think, sugar?” eren plops himself onto the bed, “hm?” still fixated on your progress, ony’ huffs from his seat on the ottoman, lotioning his chest and arms then turning back to rub some excess onto eren's foot. “i told ony’, let's take the horses f’ a ride, ma’, he talkin’ bout ‘oh it's rainy’, i think it'll be chill,” he smiles big and winks expecting something of an applause for his great idea of fun.

“ion mind whateva’ y'guys wanna do, jus’ once we shower ‘gain after, ‘fore we get sick,” you shake your head at the thought. ony’ smacks his teeth, “c'mon, don't support him.” 

“what, playin’ in the rain is fun, baby!” you chuckle, eren simply props his head on his palm, enthralled by your meticulous work. regardless, he nods mindlessly in agreement at the discussion.

just like that, cowboy hats and boots were thrown on and you head down to the stables to round up the horses. ony’ and eren raced each other down to them before you could even get a word in. the thought reminded you of buttercup and bently who currently settled and slept with one's head atop the other.

the fresh rain smell hits your nostrils quickly, smelling of the humidity off the grass and pitch of the street. you could audibly hear the wind bristling about the bushes as it cooled your skin. all you wore was a thin white tank top, jeans along with your classic pink-brown boots to match your hat. eren and ony’ warmed up the horses, encouraging mary-lou to shake out her mane and trot a little. onyankopon was seated by reiner, rubbing at his legs to warm him a bit and doing the same to armin. of course, you stare unabashedly, his muscles (unclothed) bulged with each motion, waistline visible amid his jeans.

you stare so much so, that you don't even notice eren come up to your side to press a wet kiss to your neck, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives your ear a kiss too, “starin’ at my man, girlie?” he laughs boyishly and you swat him, “dat’s m’ man too, freak,” he gasps falsely at the insult and you speed off to grab the harness for mary-lou; ony’ pretends he didn't hear the bickering and mounts his horse.

“s’ not rainin’ all too much now, see?” eren comments, scooping his hair back into a low bun under his hat. the three of you clicked and clocked through the damp grass and onto the street, letting the drizzle of rain moisten your skin with each speckle. you gnaw at your bottom lip, lost in thought as you trail behind the two men. at the same time, another cold gust would brush past you three, drying your skin again. yet, as you flinch when a particularly large droplet mands on your cheek, the rain picks up again and you smile.

sometimes moments like these felt so good, connecting with nature and taking in the beauty of the weather. it didn't stop you from being distracted, eren's white wife-beater was getting soaked. the tattoos creeping up his side peaked through the material and stared right back at you. you bitr back a groan and cover your warming face with your palms, wiping it clean of rain, while eren and onyankopon fall back on their horses. the peaceful silence with nothing but the ‘tock’ of the horses’  hooves kept your mind wandering. 

now drenched, you could only imagine peeling off these clothes, a strap of your flimsy little tank top blew off your shoulder, and you felt the material sticking to the bulge of your breasts nestled in your black bra that now stood out ten times as much. god, you felt like a fuckin’ pervert. you couldn't even bring yourself to look down at your own chest, feeling scandalized enough. something about thinking of yourself in . . . near erotic situations such as this made your clit thump like a sweet little rabbit's nose.

nonetheless, you ignore it and allow the rocking atop mary-lou as she walks to distract you. onyankopon rides his horse nearer to yours and eren does the same, you gasp under your breath when ony’ nudges you. “wassup,” he murmured, “nothin’ ‘m jus’ distracted.” you comment plainly and eren huffs out a laugh beside you. 

all you do is stare down at mary-lou and pet her mane, the pulse between your legs pushed to the back of your mind. “y'so bad at lyin’, know that?” eren laughs, you blush and groan, “no ‘m not, shut up,” 

“chill, chill,” ony’ whispers, in his stupid, sexy, amazing, deep voice and you let out a big shuddering breath. as you're riding you feel ony's wet bicep brushing against yours. this had to be the end of you.

ony’ reaches an arm behind you, stretching to meanly pinch eren's shoulder. you're not sure what that meant but you didn't care to know. “where we ridin’ to?” you ask, rubbing glossy lips together. “mm, let's jus’ head to me n’ ony's ranch,” 

“kay,” you settle with that, sweet n’ soft.

“wanna race, jaeger?” ony’ slips in lowly, pulling ahead and looking back at you two with his. . . stupid handsome smile, “h- hey now, let's not–” and you're interrupted by shouts, “let's go!” eren pulls off.

you groan softly, hiking up mary-lou’s harness a bit as you begin to gallop behind the two men. the raindrops stung against your skin and you whined trying to catch up to the two and your breaths harsh. with each hard breath you let out you couldn't help but let it bubble up into laughter, you just felt so good. 

you felt giddy, blinking away raindrops that attacked at your eyes and racing past the two men, who yelled and called out to you, “yo, ma’ we gon' catch up,” ony's cowboy hat flies back behind his head, held up by the string beneath his string as he pulls the white horse forward chasing after you.

the three of you speed past grunge fencings and rosey bushes all bowing their heads now from the deluge. your tank top was completely soaked, and you imagine so was eren's when you pulled in the gates of their ranch and headed around back where you could free mary-lou to run around in the fenced horse enclosure.

you sit on the ground and linger near the side of the house by some plants, boots kicking about scattered hay and picking up sticky mud. eren and ony’ pull in the same time, wet chests heaving and eyeing you as they quickly hop off and lead their horses to the enclosure. “you win, watchu want?” eren huffs out, swinging his hat off and tossing it to the side, letting the rain seep into his curls. “hm?” you moan while rain kisses you, “i get a prize?” 

he nods and slumping down against the wall next to you and propping his arm on a plant. you take the time to stare at his pecs . . . light brown nipples peaking through at you. eren catches you staring, it forces you to look away quick and brush a wet braid out of your face just as ony’ arrives.

“yall chillin’?” 

“yea . . . mama's chillin’ alright,” eren smiles up at ony who lays in the grass beside you. “she baskin’ in her– win,” eren laments, reaching forward to tickle you and you bark out laughter lurching at him. his fingers pet your ribcage and you grab eren's shoulders, “what the– fuck! eren!” you squeal and wrangle with him. ony’ sits in the wet dirt beside you guys with his hands resting behind his head, basking in the rain and ignoring the shoves and pushes nudging him.

“i swear t’ god ‘ren, you– ack!” eren flips you on your back and you land hard with your head on ony's thigh while he wrangles your hands above your head. digging your feet in the ground for leverage couldn't help with the mud slipping beneath you. onyankopon only hums in amusement, watching you stop struggling beneath eren, your chests bouncing with gasps of air.

“you . . . y'know that's not fair, eren,” “i know what's not fair, sugar?” he stares you down, grip on your wrists tight with his chest pressing against yours. the swell of your breasts popped out of your tank top, glistening and sticky when it touched his skin. “mmm, you want somethin’?” he sucks his lip rings into his mouth teasing you, eyes wide and glossed over, throat drying. you lick your lips and slip from his grasp, sitting up and leaning your back onto ony's chest. just as you make that decision you swallow hard feeling his wet chest through your thin top. you wipe some wetness off your forehead evidently applying some mud that was on your arm to the spot.

you catch your breath, rubbing dirtied arms onto your shirt to clean them as best you could. you felt filthy but god, your fat little cunt ached laying in the dirt. 

“onyan'” you call out to the man behind you with your eyes trained on eren who simply sits back smiling impishly at you, “yea, sugar?” 

“wan’ m’ prize,” it comes out in a whine.

“yeah? ‘n what's that gon’ be,” he murmurs low in your ear, eren still hears him. you let out a ‘hmph!’ deep in your throat. then, you drag dirty hands against your tank top before peeling it off you and above your head, tossing it into some grass elsewhere.

crawling on your knees, ass arching in ony's direction, you gesture to eren with a finger, “come here, c'mon,” and you grab the back of his neck, kissing up his sweaty wet throat licking and sucking up anything your mouth touched. you press your lips to eren's, cold wet metal between you two when you let his tongue into your mouth, sucking it up when your lips lock hot.

eren groans into your mouth, hand gripping at your ass concealed by your jeans and he falls back into the mud. you reveled in the slick sound of your lips separating from each other, tuning out how soaked your jeans were getting in the rain. the ambient pelting sound on the rooftops only edged you on further, sitting in eren's lap.

“fuck, you're nasty,” eren mumbles against your lips when you pull away for a second, fingers toggling with the buttons on his jeans. he resists a big smile, elbows resting in the muddied dirt to hold himself up while you roughly tug his jeans down a bit. just enough room for you to reach his dick.

“see how she treatin’ me, ony'?” eren wipes rain off his nose, locking heavy-lidded eyes with onyankopon then down at you, “she roughin’ me up ‘cause she won,” he grumbles and you pull his cock out.

eren flinches when his dick is exposed to the rain, tan-brown tip oozing pre mixed with droplets. your knees dug into the mud beneath you, ass arching up. you stare shamelessly at eren's dick, letting the saliva build up about your tongue while you press a few kisses to the tip. his breath shudders above you, leaning his head back for the rain to fall on his face. “c'mon, pretty, do watchu want,” you grip him tight, feeling like your palm could memorize the girth and veins that popped out. then, tugging him up slightly, you slot your mouth in the gap between the bottom of his dick to his balls. sucking on the skin, you let you built up salivation drip down his balls, slurping the heavy sack onto your tongue.

you suck eren's balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around mounds and his mouth drops open revealing his tongue ring. he grins, giving you a loud shameless groan, he was certainly showing off for ony’ who sit behind you watching. “suck it like dat, yea,” eren mumbles to you, licking the rainwater off his lips. he lets you have your way a bit more, focused on your features: the way the rain made your eyelashes clump together, the droplets sliding down your nose, to the spitty goop around your mouth all over his balls.

“c'mon, c'mon,” he pulls your mouth off him with a hand gripping the base of your hair, licking the splittle off your chin then kissing it into your mouth and swallowing your whines. “y' fuckin’ nasty, jaeger,” onyankopon mutters lowly behind you and eren bites back a smile. “filthy ass, take that shit off,” you up off your knees, flopping back on your ass where you fiddle with the buttons on your jeans. 

your cheeks burned, both eren and ony's eyes grilled into you and everywhere you touched got streaks of mud in it after having your hands dig into the sopping ground. on your arms, your boobs, eren's shirt. slowly, you shucked your jeans down, slipping them past your ankles along with your boots. your panties were stuck up your ass when you sit in some wet patches of dirty hay, tossing the jeans aside realizing you wore significantly less than the other two men with rain beating all over you.

eren and ony’ share a look then eren's the first to lurch forward gripping your legs with his muddied hands, pushing you back to lay in the dirt and kissing about the clear parts of your belly. he nips at the swell of your breasts in your bra, sucking and kissing wherever he saw fit. “er– eren,” he's prying your legs apart, pushing them ‘till your knees were besides your ears. “eren, stop–,” then he's plucking your panties out your ass and sliding them up your thighs, he stretches the thin little things beyond repair to sling them off your ankles. “what the fuck,” you whisper, eren's fucking unreachable n’ you're both staring at your fat puffy cunt. he takes a second to look to the side at ony’ before returning his attention to your pussy, sprinkles of water sliding down, yet the blubber of slick collected between your lips was noticeable.

the pretty thing was so fat your hardened clit could barely peak through. eren dips his tongue deep, digging at your hole then dragging his tongue through your folds illiciting a low gasp. the cold metal bar in his tongue nudged at your clit. he curled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, giving it a few flicks before spitting and licking another strop up your cunt. “feels– fuckin’ good, eren, oh,” you whimper, his gentle motions paired with the ambient beating of rain against your skin had you on a high. he shakes his head side in your cunt, arousal making sticky strings beside his cheeks as his nose nudges the fat of your pussy. “holy shit,” you press your head into the soft ground beneath you, eyelids fluttering shut when eren suckles softly on your clit. you hum and moan, licking your lips and feeling your head spin, “‘ren . . . oh my god,” he slurps noisily suctioning his mouth over your pussy, sucking hard over and over and over again relishing in the throb of your clit against his tongue.

“he knows, baby,” ony’ murmurs and your mouth drops open with a loud moan, his voice just did something for you. you felt the muscles in your legs twitch, itching to close them with each swipe of eren's tongue and swirling pleasure in your tummy. your hands dig into the dirt behind you, legs quivering.

“tastes fuckin’ good don't it?” he's mumbling and eren's groans into your pussy sends shockwaves against your clit, he nods vigorously. “ohh– shit,” you sit up on your elbows digging in the mud, hair soaked and heavy and your legs only spread wider; your eyes trained on eren's tongue making sloppy circles around the fat mound in your pussy.

eager, you slip your hands into eren's wet curls, stuffing his face into your cunt, “eren, eren– yea-ah!” his groans rumble in his throat and here came the fucking waterworks. your climax comes hard along with several slick kisses to your clit, beads of sweat and rain slipping down between a furrowed brow and a guttural moan ripping from your throat.

eren's mouth releases its latch onto you, your legs flopping into puddles of dirt beneath you. “prepped her f'you,” eren licks his lips and looks to onyankopon who sits there with a fat bulge beneath his jeans although unbuttoned.

“mm yeah?,” you both shuffle over to the wet patch of hay ony’ sat in, slightly less soaked albeit equally as muddy.

onyankopon gestures to eren with two fingers as he lifts himself up, brushing water from his face and allowing eren to take a seat against the wall. your eyes flicker between them, sitting with your butt resting on the heels of your feet feeling exposed. it doesn't help that eren reaches behind you to unhook your bra, your cheeks feel hot. nevertheless, you slip them off your arms.

onyankopon shucks down his jeans just below his ass,  “ [  ], come right here,” walking on your knees you shuffle forward to ony’ who puts a hand above the swell of your ass, pressing his bare chest to yours. ony's gaze is something serious, he bends his neck and clasps his lips to yours. it's slow, methodical and hot. onyankopon breathes deep and groans into your mouth. your body goes limp a little: drooping in his grasp and relaxing against his body as his tongue gently guided yours against his own. “mhm, okay . . . okay,” he presses a few kisses to your lips with a squeeze around your throat as he weans you off his mouth.

“turn ‘round,”

you whine, “w'nna look at'chu,” 

ony's unmoved, he swallows, “look at ‘ren, baby,” and he guides you as you turn in the slippery mud to arch your ass up to him, his palm glides down the small of your back deepening that arch while your head rests on your folded arms before you. the position makes it hard for you to focus properly on eren, you peep at him through your eyelashes.

your cunt is sticky, swollen lips bound together by the white film of your arousal after the orgasm eren gave you, and you feel ony's hands kneading your ass. he spreads them, watching your pussy lightly spread open with it. you hear his belt buckle jingle slightly as his hands continue to massage your back right along with the downpour. ony’ grips his cock in his hands, tugging the thick thing lightly a couple times. he catches eren staring as he pumps it harshly before pressing the fat tip against you. 

“fuuuck,” ony’ slaps his cockhead at your entrance letting it get coated by your arousal before slipping the first inch in slowly and already you're speechless. “holy– shit,” your cunt stretched to accommodate the girth and ony’ grips the curve of your back for leverage, letting out a guttural groan while slowly inching into you. 

he sits in it for a moment, allowing you just a moment to familiarize yourself with the fat pipe he just lay in you; then, he's pulling out slowly and pushing in again and you whine. “what the fuck,” you feel ony’ lean his weight over you, and you gasp as he starts smacking his hips to your ass.

paired with the wetness of the rain, his hips leave a stinging slap against you and you're faltering with your tits mushed against the mud. eren left your pussy sloppy, your cunt whipping up loads of cream slick around ony's cock and your mouth is just ajar. jaw tightening with shallow, whiny moans cascading past your lips, ‘ah's and ‘oh's are all the men hear. “mm, ony’,” you try to murmur, body giving way fully to the mud beneath and ony's grip on your tightens,”watchu’ want, hm',” he grumbles.

oh how he knows nothing of the way your clit throbs everytime his heavy balls slap against your cunt.

“wan'— wan’ it deeper, please,” and you gasp hard when ony’s hand comes up to your ass, digging his thumb into the curled rim of your butt before bringing a foot to the ground for leverage; his ankle beside your ear, you eagerly grab onto it. “got fuckin’ good manners, don't she?” he grunts out, and the other man nods. 

onyankopon gives you two warning strokes, pressing his cock to the hilt and curling his thumb inside your ass and you feel overwhelmed. then, you gasp in a loud sob  as ony’ starts drilling his cock deeper into you, his hips smack you hard and his weight presses you everytime he drives his cock in. “fuck, fuck–,” you're squealing, hands draw digs into the mud as you can't help but writhe against the mud. “feel good?” you all but whine in response, “feel fuckin' good?” “ye- yes!” you mewl out. ony’s muscles contract and you can see it in his leg, intent on keeping you from sliding away from him under the soaked muddy slop.

the noises are . . . obscene. pornographic bursts of air shooting out amidst the stirring up of your melting cunt and your cheeks burn with embarrassment along with fresh tears streaming but you're breathless. “so fuckin’ loud,” ony’ mumurs,  his lips curling into a smile when he hears the noises you make.

“m’– fuck, m’ sorry,” you weep and your walls squeeze ony’ tight. you feel a glob of slick collect at the tippy top of your cunt, the fat bulge of your clit and stickily drip down onto the ground with each rock of your bodies. “takin’ m'shit fuckin’ good, sugar,” onyankopon drawls low and you sob.

you hear him whistle above you and with  a quickness eren's pants come into view. he sits, legs spread with his groin in line with your face against the ground. he scoots forward enough so he can lift your head and replace the mud beneath your nose with the musk of his balls. “‘ren, ‘ren, ren,” you're chanting, itching for your orgasm approaching with each quick and sloppy drag of cock in you. “m” right here, girlie,” ony's pummeling you from behind and your drooly mouth now has eren's pretty tanned cock slapping against it. “holy– fuck, hng- shit,” you mutter out before you're latching your lips onto eren's tip, inviting him into your mouth. he controls it, gripping your braids and rocking your head onto his dick.

“c'mon, c'mon, takin’ that shit s'fuckin’ good,” eren praises when he starts to snap his hips into your mouth, matching ony's strokes. he strokes your soaked hair gently, juxtaposing the nasty aggression each rock of his hips brought. you gagged, muffled, globs of spit streaking down your chin as you relaxed your throat for eren's dick. in the same way, you're making a mess on ony's cock, coating his length in hot creamy release that trickled down your own cunt. “she's fuckin’ creamin' on it, E',” and you moan when eren laughs cruelly above you, “cream on y’fuckin’ cock, ma’,” he grunts.

each drag of cock against the ridges of your cunt, the slosh of your mouth had you moaning in a frenzy. “was’ ya’ problem, huh?” eren groans out, and onyankopon knows exactly what your problem is.

“mama's bout to fuckin’ nut, huh?” he can feel the extra squeeze around his cock and rolls his neck to let some rain coat his face and distract him from his own ache. they listen to how you squeal around eren's cock, hands grabbing at his jeans and ony’ pumps his thumb into your ass consistency. 

“mmm, fuck,” onyankopon hums, angling himself so the curve of his cock digs at you just right, and he smiles: satisfied when you start to squirm and fuss beneath him. eren pulls you off and you sob, coughing a little to clear your larynx. you whimper as eren all but ruts against your face. “keep her right fuckin’ there,” ony’ groans and you grasp onto eren's jeans, cunt twitching with each movement yet eren forces your shoulders back to keep your body where ony’ wants you: daggering his cock into you with a forcefull quickness that eren's rutting mimics. 

“ohmygod, oh!” you blubber out, chanting ‘shit, shit, shit's

“gon’ leave you fuckin’ gapin’, quit playin’,” and you weep.

your hips twitch and you feel the knot in your stomach stiffening, “wan’ you're cum, want y'all's c–cum, fuckkk,” wail into eren's skin and take his cock back into your mouth just as your cunt spurts and your ears feel clogged from the rush of blood to your abdomen. “take it, take it, take that cum, baby,” eren groans. you felt light-headed, stars twinkling at you around the edges of your vision as your eyes rolled and soon you were forced to blink away the brain fog to swallow the thick loads eren gushes into your mouth. 

he whines, unabashedly and onyankopon gives you a couple more strokes before his cock is digging into you to bury his surge of cum into you with a hiss.

eren falls back, letting you catch your breath and stroking rain away from your face. ony’ pulls out quick before you start to get sore, giving your cunt a few wet slaps before eren's pulling your limp aching body onto him to give you some relief. “gotchu’, gotchu’.” he consoles.

“c'mon, E,” ony’ rushes, “huh?”

“gotta’ get out the fuckin’ rain,” he puffs out a laugh before he's lifting you off eren. they both try not to slip in the mud, hurrying off into the ranch for long hot showers.