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girlreviews · 5 months

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Review #390: Surfa Rosa, The Pixies

In honor of Steve Albini, who passed away this week at 61 and who produced an unbelievable amount of classic records… The Pixies’ Surfa Rosa is up. It’s just one of many he worked on.

I know I’ve whined about The Pixies in comparison to The Breeders, but I still adore them. Kim plays the bass on Pixies records, despite being a guitar player really. She learned the bass just to join The Pixies who were seeking a new player and she was the only one that applied. So there you go.

I love their shitty harmonizing. It’s so fun. I love their bizarre lyrics. They’re so fun. I love their loudness. It’s so fun. There’s plenty of Kim’s voice on this record which makes me happy.

Something Against You almost has a little ska vibe as it begins, and really takes me back to being like 14 or 15 and just going absolutely bananas at any loud raucous show that I could. I’m currently en route to a festival — having sworn I’d never attend one again after the debacle of Primavera 2022 where me and all of my friends nearly throw hands at each other because we were so tired and cranky (and old and sore) and they just didn’t have their shit together. Oversold and underprepared for so many attendees. Getting a drink of any kind was an ordeal. Anyhow, thoughts and prayers for me to keep my chill at Kilby Block Party.

When I started attending festivals, I was 14 and got day tickets to Reading Festival, which was still a fucking riot at the time. I was so lucky to have that on my doorstep for all of my teenage years and I saw so many amazing bands and unforgettable music moments, one which is particularly memorable to me, is The Pixies. Don’t ask me to remember what year it was, I don’t know, I just remember I was with that shitty boy. And I vividly remember them playing Broken Face and it just blowing my socks off. It’s remained my favorite ever since. I just really enjoy the weird lyrics, the noise, the squawking and the brevity. The Pixies are really good at that. I’ve never thought too much about the verses, but the most fun is the chorus which is just hooting and hollering of the following:

I got no lips, I got no tongue

Whatever I say is only spit

I got no lips, I got no tongue

I got a broken face

Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo

I got a broken face

It’s energy has always just done something to me. It’s my exact shit. But why that is I can’t tell you. It’s just some primal way of being that I find relatable. Just making a huge discordant nonsensical noise.

Most of us (probably?) are familiar with Where Is My Mind? Which I would assume is their most well known song. For good reason, it’s amazing, but also it’s been covered by so many different bands and artists with completely different styles I imagine anyone who hasn’t heard the original has still probably heard it. Off the top of my head, covers include: Nada Surf, Placebo, even Miley Cyrus has done some kind of cover/mash up. That is by no means a full list. I tend to enjoy a good Where Is My Mind cover. It’s a hard song to mess up and sounds good with lots of different arrangements. Check them out.

We already know my feelings on the members of the band (see The Breeders, Last Splash). Musically, The Pixies are just such a good time. At least they were in the 90s. I confess I haven’t kept up with them because I find Frank Black to be so off-putting (there is a brief interlude where he is — apparently — “goofing around” and what that sounds like is him shouting very loudly at Kim in a way that I find unpleasant). I appreciate I just have a negative bias towards him. He reminds me of someone I truly despise. Even so, truly some of their songs are just grungy rock indie classics that if you aren’t familiar with you really should be. Interestingly, by producing Surfa Rosa for The Pixies, both Nirvana and PJ Harvey sought him out for their own records. What is interesting about that is that Albini hated the record, and took plenty of opportunities to trash both Surfa Rosa and The Pixies… Can’t help but wonder if he found Frank immensely off-putting too, because in a new pretty recent podcast, Albini is quoted praising Kim Deal, stating how much he respects her and her lo-fi analog aesthetic. I think he and I would have been buds, based on this assessment alone. He did eventually recant his hatred for Surfa Rosa, and this was a pattern for him anyway. He also thought In Utero by Nirvana sucked, only to come around to it later and appreciate its place in classic 90s records. I guess some people just don’t know how good they are.

Cactus receives a mention simply for the line “I miss your soup, and I miss your bread, a letter in your writing doesn’t mean you’re not dead”, what is that about? I have no idea but I love it. A lot.

I’ll finish with the fact that there’s a song about a guy named Tony, who is apparently a superhero (reasons unknown) and they really just chant TO!NY! A bunch of times. It’s a racket. Tony must be a pretty rad dude.

Anyway, one of many memorable and powerful records that Steve Albini put his hands on. I intend to do more of a deep dive on his work because it’s some really great shit and I imagine I have new songs to hear and entire albums to fall in love with. Surfa Rosa is just a big fat dose of high energy noise and crazy tempos on the drums. It’s not for everyone but it’s for sure for me.

ETA: it’s not in The Rolling Stone Top 500 list, which I think is a big miss, but while I’m on the subject of Steve Albini and his work, everyone, and I mean everyone, should listen to Magnolia Electric Co by Songs: Ohia. As fast as you possibly can. The production and recording is some of the best to ever be done, and the result is an entire album where you can simply hear and feel a young Jason Molina’s deep pain. He did not live much longer. You understand why when you hear this record.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #the pixies #Surfa rosa #steve albini #kim deal #frank black

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thuyhoang80 · 1 year

Video

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Revealing 15 Simple Ways To Speed Up Windows 10

#windows microsoft pc laptop computer windowsserver technology office intel apple android pro notebook linux windowsxp desktop software surfa

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niveditaabaidya · 1 year

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What Is The Colour Of Planet Pluto? 😀 #shorts #youtubeshorts #youtube #t...

#youtube #What Is The Colour Of Planet Pluto? 😀 shorts youtubeshorts youtube trending Pluto is primarily made up of nitrogen ice and rock. Its surfa

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quiteunpersuadable · 2 years

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Every time. You’ve just got to burp that blender.

#such a struggle. air pockets in my smoothie. I don’t want to get a spoon. so I bounce it in the hope the air pocket just bursts to the surfa #surface #text #nonsense #I always feel like I’m gently bouncing baby

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miley1442111 · 6 months

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criminal minds masterlist :)

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aaron hotchner

the problem with arguing

you and aaron run into some trouble at home, what happens when you're taken by an unsub?

breaking rules mr.hotchner? (part 2) better than ok

what happens when you and aaron are left after work alone? (and) surely he'll visit you in hospital, right?

unfair unfair part 2

my take on: season 3 episode 20- Lo-fi

i don’t even know you anymore part 1 part2

aaron is there for you after you spencer break up, romance ensues.

motherly instincts

aaron's overbearing mother makes a comment about your postpartum body, he doesn't react well.

slowly

aaron is there for you during the one of the most difficult times of your life.

fix it | fix it together

what happens when you and aaron are arguing and he compares you to haley, and worse, brings up an annulment?

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

based on the song by taylor swift

fresh out the slammer

based on the song by taylor swift

jealous?

you were to supposed keep you relationship a secret, what happens when a certain doctor develops a crush on you?

guilty as sin?

based on the song by taylor swift

no promises

aaron has to save you from an unsub before it's too late.

safe

you are a victim of an unsub and aaron finally has to tell the team something.

office couch

you and aaron spend some time on his office couch… (18+)

nervous night

aaron is there for you when a night with your sister turns sour.

opening night

aaron misses your opening night, he forgot all about it.

insomniac

how aaron helps with your insomnia episodes.

a great start

how you and aaron end up together after a hostage situation

pinky promises

how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out almost 20 years later.

who did this to you?

aaron gets quite the surprise after a mission

telling him

jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.

drunk confession and the morning after

aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.

aaron's admissions last night ended in a proposal in the car. not exactly romantic, but oh well

always

sharing a hotel room forces feelings to the surface.

clingy

aaron acts quite differently with his wife around, which causes eyebrowns to raise and feelings to start getting hurt.

the picture

a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

birthday fights & other lies

aaron forgot your birthday which spirals into something much deeper.

you're the cute barista he sees everyday.

shocker

you have some news for your husband.

insecurity

aaron starts to overthink and doesn't realise how it's impacting the relationship.

safe

aaron had to make sure you're safe, can he get to you in time?

birthday break

aaron almost misses your birthday

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spencer reid

thank god for dr. spencer reid

spencer saves you from your shitty family

i don't even know you anymore (part 2) i don't even know you anymore

your breakup with a cheating spencer and the aftermath with hotch

you were right

your husband accepts an invitation on your behalf

in sickness and in health

spencer is there for you when your sick, even with the germs

i’d say yes

is spencer asking you out? you'd say yes.

the tortured poets department

based on the song by taylor swift

stalker

spencer's there for you when the unsub is your hometown stalker, who's still obbessed with you

spencer x gender neutral model!reader

headcanons with spencer and a model reader :)

weird facts

you finally meet spencer's friends/team, only thing is, they don't know you exist.

relief

when spencer can't get to you in time, waking up leads to the team finding out about a few things. Like, you're married. And something else...

mutism

how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together

transfer

how your sudden transfer forces certain feelings to the surface

i wanna kiss you on the mouth

both of you are completely unaware of your feelings, but you speak too loudly and your feelings are confessed.

who’s afraid of little old me?

based on the song by taylor swift

saving you

spencer has to save you before it’s too late

hair tie

spencer's hair is getting too long

the fifth kiss

lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

you make me happy

spencer acts quite differently around you and it shocks the team

all alone

spencer doesn't want to get hurt, too bad it hurts you in the process

the joys of a workplace relationship

a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

confession

spencer's birthday was supposed to be fun for him and his girlfriend, what happens when his mentor (his girlfriends father) shows up at his door?

picking

spencer notices one of your issues, and is determined to fix it.

broadway baby

a secret gets out

revealed

derek tricks you both, uh oh

don’t dwell

you and spencer reconcile after a bad case

controlled turns out spencer doesn't hate you...

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derek morgan

friendly fire

you and derek don't get along very well

high maintenance

you're told your high maintenance, you set out to prove it's not true, it goes badly.

my girl

derek is there to wash your insecurities away (tall reader x derek morgan)

take down

you take down an unsub threatening your husband, derek morgan

labour

derek has to do something when you're three days past your due date (18+)

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series

pride: you, a bau team member are faced with quite the choice when both aaron hotchner and spencer reid are interested in you, but what will happen when a family emergency calls them into action? And which will you choose?

part 1, (in progress)

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birthday blues: spencer, your boyfriend makes a choice that cuases something in your relationship to break. can he even fix it?

part one part two(in progress)

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regrets: spencer, your fiancè comes home from prison and an amalgamation of your grief and his causes the collapse of your relationship. Fast forward five years and the question still stands, can he fix it?

part one | part two (in progress)

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insomniac au: your life with aaron and jack, working with your insomnia

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1) treatment plan (part 2)

aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

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runariya · 18 days

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🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

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The ocean is beautiful.

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature.

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think.

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him.

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture.

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly.

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher.

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction.

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him.

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above.

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted.

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee.

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto.

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding.

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is.

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased.

“Mate.”

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astrow0rldx · 5 days

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PAC TAROT: Shadow Work

Piles read left to right. Really use your intuition for which one calls to you to read. This Reading will be a little different, because it's ai generated. But hear me out, it's extremely accurate. I pull the tarot cards, and questions and it makes a story using automatic creative writing skills. In the story format it should help understand better.

Pile One

You present yourself as someone grounded and nurturing, someone who has it all together—capable, reliable, and a provider of stability. You wear this mask of self-sufficiency with grace, offering support and care to those around you. There’s a warmth to how you handle life, as if you’re always the one others can lean on. Yet, beneath this persona, there’s a quiet dissatisfaction, an emotional numbness that you don’t let others see. You feel disconnected, like something essential is missing, but you avoid acknowledging it, preferring to maintain the image of having everything under control.

Deep down, there’s a fear of rejection and abandonment that colors how you see yourself and your place in the world. This fear stems from past experiences where you felt left out or unworthy, perhaps from moments when you reached out for support and were met with coldness or lack. That sense of being shut out has led you to withdraw emotionally, burying your desires and vulnerabilities under layers of self-protection. However, this hidden wound shapes how you move through the world—it keeps you from fully expressing the vibrant, fiery side of yourself, the part of you that is bold, passionate, and fearless. While you project strength, this shadow lingers in the background, holding you back from fully owning your power.

Your shadow comes to the surface when you’re confronted by people or situations that reflect confidence and control, especially when they embody traits you’ve repressed. These encounters stir something inside you, triggering internal conflict as your shadow self clashes with the persona you’ve carefully built. The lesson in this struggle is to reconnect with your emotional core, to allow yourself to feel deeply and openly once again. Healing comes through embracing the tension, acknowledging that inner battles are a part of your growth. By working through this, you’ll move toward a more patient and nurturing relationship with yourself, where you invest in long-term growth and understand that healing is a process—one that requires steady effort and care.

Pile Two

She finds herself in a state of suspension, caught between holding onto control and surrendering to the unknown. Outwardly, she appears strong, composed, and authoritative, someone who takes charge with ease and thrives in an orderly world. She presents herself as the one in control, the one who always knows what to do. However, beneath this confident exterior, she’s struggling with uncertainty. She feels stuck, as if the answers she’s searching for are just out of reach, and in order to find them, she knows she must let go of the rigid expectations she’s placed on herself. She wears the mask of authority, but behind it, she is deeply uncertain, torn between what she knows and what she longs to discover.

At her core, she craves connection—a relationship where she can feel deeply understood and loved. There's a romantic within her, yearning for a bond that feels effortless and sincere, as if she’s waiting for that perfect emotional partnership. But she’s haunted by past disappointments, memories of love that didn’t turn out the way she hoped. This loss lingers, making her cautious about trusting her heart again. She often revisits those past moments of grief, wondering what went wrong and fearing that opening herself up to love again will lead to more heartbreak. As much as she wants love, the weight of her emotional past makes her guard her feelings, holding back from diving fully into new connections.

Her fears and vulnerabilities surface when emotions become overwhelming, or when she’s faced with situations that push her to move too fast. In those moments, she becomes protective, holding onto her feelings and resources tightly, afraid of losing control or being vulnerable. Her instinct is to cling to what she knows, but there’s also a deeper truth: her dreams and fantasies about what could be are not just idle thoughts. They reflect her true desires, the part of her that longs to break free from her hesitation and embrace all the possibilities that life offers. To heal, she needs to release the fear of losing control, to trust that even if things are uncertain, the journey ahead is rich with opportunities—ones she’s fully capable of seizing, if only she lets go.

Pile Three

She is moving through a period of transition, quietly distancing herself from past conflicts and emotional turbulence. Her journey, both literal and metaphorical, is one of seeking peace and clarity after enduring a storm. On the outside, she may seem calm, as though she’s finally found her direction, but the waters behind her are still unsettled. Internally, she is recovering from struggles, possibly with others or even within herself. The tension and discord she’s left behind still echo in her thoughts, making it difficult for her to fully let go. While she appears to be progressing, there is a quiet battle inside her, as if she’s constantly bracing for the next challenge.

Her internal struggle centers on patience and the need to balance her desires with the reality of what she’s building. She has invested time and energy into something—perhaps a relationship, a career, or personal growth—and now she waits, unsure of the outcome. There's a restlessness beneath her calm exterior, a feeling of competition, either with herself or with others. She yearns for stability and celebration, for a moment when she can finally relax and feel secure, but she is deeply aware that the foundation she’s working on still needs time to solidify. Emotionally, she is tied to the idea of love and partnership, but her past battles have made her wary. Love feels both close and distant, like something she craves but is cautious about fully embracing.

Her emotional depth runs deep, though she doesn’t always show it. She is someone who feels intensely, yet she’s learned to control and temper her feelings. When her emotions rise, they are powerful, but she channels them carefully, maintaining a composed exterior. Her greatest strength lies in her intuition. She often knows more than she lets on, reading situations and people with a subtle, almost mystical understanding. But this also makes her guarded, as if she’s protecting herself from being hurt again. She’s been through many trials, and though she’s weary, she remains resilient. Her journey is far from over, and while the battles she’s faced have left her cautious, they have also made her wiser. She stands ready to move forward, but she knows the path ahead will require both patience and strength.

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Paper Hearts Part 1

Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).

So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.

I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.

Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.

Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.

****

Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:

PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL

Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.

There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.

Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.

“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.

Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.

He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.

He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.

There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.

And Steve hoped it was a good day.

****

Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.

Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.

Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.

He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.

He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.

“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”

A couple of kids snickered.

“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.

Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.

“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”

“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.

The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”

“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”

The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”

He nodded.

“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.

When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”

Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”

Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”

“323B.”

“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”

Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”

Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”

This time it was Harrington who winced.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.

“Shit.”

Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”

Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.

“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.

Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.

“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”

“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”

Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.

“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”

“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.

Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.

Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.

“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”

He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”

Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”

And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.

And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.

****

Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.

Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.

Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.

He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.

So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.

He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.

Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.

He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.

Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!

Now that was an idea.

He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.

A smile spread over his face.

That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.

He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.

Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.

He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.

****

Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.

He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.

They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.

The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.

And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.

Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.

But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.

To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?

Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.

But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.

He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.

He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.

“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.

“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”

“What did you do?”

So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”

“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”

Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.

“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.

Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.

It would just have to wait until Monday.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Permanent Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @swimmingbirdrunningrock

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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gallierhouse · 3 months

Note

how do you think armand will react to the realization that his godhusbandfather marius is still alive and presumably never bothered to seek armand out in about 500 years?

In my opinion, this is the greatest betrayal of Armand’s life. The abuse was one thing, the trafficking another, but not seeking him out trumps it all. Fundamentally, I think Armand sees love as a contract between two people. You tolerate pain, you even learn to love pain, you learn to love whatever they tell you to love and you love to surrender, and that’s love. In return for that, they choose you. Maybe they also treat you with kindness, or provide you for materially, or stroke your hair gently and hold you, but fundamentally, it’s about being chosen. It’s about sacrificing all these parts of yourself as duty and love and devotion and accepting abuse and mistreatment as self-sacrifice service as the price for devotion from someone else. It’s all “I do this for you, I let you do this to me, and in return, you have to love me.” In Armand’s mind, Marius owes to him to love him. Marius put him through so much. He saved him, he abused him, he turned him. Armand has tolerated? accepted? all of it. And Marius still didn’t go back for him? It’s salt in the wound. How could Marius let him go so easily? How could Marius not love him? How could Marius do all those things and still not love him? How could he do all those things and still not choose him? I don’t really think Armand is psychologically capable of differentiating between love and abuse, because the person he uses as his model of love abused him. Possession, control, punishment, violation, abuse, it’s all part of the shape love takes to him. If someone didn’t love you they wouldn’t bother to cage or hurt you; they’d simply let you go or kill you. You wouldn’t be worth the time or effort to torture or punish or abuse. The love is in the attention, even if it hurts. So Marius not going to look for him is the worst possible betrayal. It’s not love, it’s not abuse, it’s not even hate, it’s indifference. It’s nothing. It would be really painful for him, pain on a level he’s very rarely experienced, despite how much he’s been through.

I think he’d try to rationalize it first. Maybe Marius lost his memory, maybe he was prevented from looking for Armand somehow, maybe he was weakened. Maybe he didn’t look because he thought Armand was better off without him, maybe it was a twisted act of kindness, maybe he was setting him free? No, that can’t be true, because if Marius fucking loved him he would’ve stopped at nothing to retrieve him. He would’ve tried, at least. He would’ve tried. Then it moves to heartbreak, deep, stabbing pain, disappointment and grief and betrayal and hurt and how could you? How could you not? How could you let me go so easily? How could you not love me? How could I mean nothing to you? Then it turns into icy, apocalyptic anger. If Marius doesn’t want him, Marius doesn’t want him. He’ll never see Marius again. Marius is nothing. If it’s done it’s done. This is the end. It’d be a little like that moment of disappointing, crushing clarity all children experience when they realize their parents are pathetic and fallible and not all-knowing or all-forgiving gods. Only broken people who can’t even practice what they preach. It would turn glacial. He’d miss Marius more than life itself, and he always has and I suppose he always will, but that feeling will never again resurface. It’ll be there, somewhere, inside, in private moments, in negative space, but he won’t show it ever again. He’ll be cordial. He’ll be civil. This is his maker. It’s nice to see him. Sure. It’s nice. How’s the weather?

It’s one thing to leave, and another thing entirely to not come back. If he found out firsthand it might actually be possible to see his sanity split like the sky during a thunderstorm as it gets ripped up by lightning. I don’t think he’d react violently. It’d be quiet and terrifying. So much underneath the surface, so much he’s holding back, so much he’s struggling to understand. If he found out firsthand and in private (as in, alone with Marius) I think he’d let Marius explain. He’d still feel all the conflict, but I think he’d look at Marius and wait. Wait for the explanation that’s going to make all of this understandable. Wait for the explanation that’s going to make things go back to how they were. Wait for the explanation that’s going to make him sure Marius loves him. Wait for safety, the comfort, the familiarity. Wait for something that’ll never come and will only ever be a hollow imitation and insult to the real thing that died 5 centuries ago.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #armand #i really enjoyed answering this #however if i am wrong i will be more upset than i have described armand to be here

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joocomics · 5 months

Text

ಬ fuck buddies

part one | part two | part three

pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin | not threesome

genre: smut wc: 1k

contains: sub!reader, (consensual) angry sex, name calling, choking (f!rec), degradation kink

a/n: @teasteeper and her work made me fall for loser!wayv so this idea came to me all bc of her <3

you’ve always seen winwin as just the loser friend of your fuck buddy yangyang, but surprisingly he turns out to be the one who finally puts you in your place…

yangyang always hangs out with big crowds, throws the best parties and never minds you coming along; he’s extroverted, popular, radiates confidence and winwin, to you, seems to be exactly the opposite. so every time yangyang invites him you wonder why.

one night as you lay under the sheets of yangyang’s bed, you finally bring up the question, wanting to know what exactly keeps them so close. turns out they’re childhood friends and according to yangyang winwin just finds it more difficult to communicate in a bigger circle. he’s not always like that, he says.

“why do you ask?” yangyang turns on his side with lazy motions. your bodies touch once again, sweaty and still overwhelmed from the previous orgasm. he traces a line on your stomach only to sneak his slender fingers into your slickness. he’s already greedy for another round, just like you. “are you thinking of changing your fuck buddy?”

you laugh at his ridiculous comment, but decide to tease him back despite both of you knowing you’d never have a situationship with a guy like his friend.

“can’t i have two?”

yes, winwin has an attractive face and a nice figure; he’s always put together too. but that’s not enough if you ever happen to consider it. you need someone who radiates confidence, lust. someone who smells like sex, and knows how to handle you with a firm confident grip. someone like yangyang.

“you can have twenty if you want, but sweetheart…” yangyang moves his lips away from your marked neck so he can peer into your eyes, “none of them should be a friend of mine.” his fingers pull out of your slick lips and squeeze your jaw, not really satisfied with the playful smile on your face. the corners of his mouth turn up a bit, but his tone is more sharp than light. it rings like a warning. “i’m serious.”

one evening you’re left alone with winwin to prepare snacks for the party while yangyang goes to buy more alcohol before people start arriving at his place. you catch winwin staring at you with expressions you cannot quite understand what they mean; he stands too close to your shoulder as you fill up the bowls and barely keep the small talk alive. in your opinion, winwin can only hold an entertaining conversation with yangyang and no one else.

“i’m not the loser you think i am if you just give me a chance…” he speaks up, taking off his glasses.

you turn to face him, but before you have a chance to respond with anything, he speaks again, this time with bigger assurance.

“i know what you think about me.”

“okay…” you blink at him, capturing the intensity of his gaze which is usually always soft and mellow. “my opinion of you shouldn’t matter to you, we’re not friends,” you reply, and as you try to walk pass him his tall broad figure stops in front of you. “don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss me,” you giggle, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

his dark eyes skim your body up and down that’s wrapped in a tight dress before they stop on your intrigued expression. your face is pretty. sexy. winwin noticed it the first time he saw you; you were in yangyang’s lap when you reached for his hand, stating your name in the seductive voice you so often seem to talk. but it still has that amused look to it that never seems to go away when he’s in your presence. he really wants to erase it from your lips and make you see him in a new light.

“you’re wrong about me,” winwin grunts only for you to grin again.

“prove it.”

so he does. a moment later your body is sprawled over the marble surface as winwin’s cock is all the way inside you; it’s gliding in a rough rapid speed that has you seeing stars by the way it sharply pokes at your cervix. his one palm is glued to your mouth, because this time he wants to do the talking.

“fuckin’ tired of the way you look at me… think you’re too good for me? just because you’re yangyang’s little whore? f-fuck.. ‘been dreaming of this for so long… shuttin’ your filthy mouth up…”

he feels your walls squeezing him tighter as his thrusts echo aggressively one after another in the kitchen. in yangyang’s kitchen. his hand leaves your drooling mouth so it can go around your neck, pulling you closer to gush at your ear.

“so hot… you’re so hot, but you’re driving me mad…”

you whine incoherently about being close; about not wanting him to slow down. the thrill from the possibility of yangyang walking in on you brings you to the edge even quicker. everything feels so… forbidden.

winwin frees your throat and presses your head against the countertop while making the last few slams into you as orgasm takes over every part of your body.

you kneel on the floor with trembling legs and winwin swears he hasn’t felt this good in a really long time; this satisfied and proud of himself. your dazed teary eyes catch sight of his flushed cock getting closer, and they remain open while the warm thick cum spills in your mouth. his heart feels close to bursting when your throat gulps it down as if his cum is something you’re already used to. although he’s still frustrated with you, he cannot help but relish this moment of you watching him innocently from below; with weakness and surprise. it’s electrifying.

both of you quickly come back to your senses after you hear yangyang opening the front door. you didn’t even get the chance to exchange any words about the events that just happened. you run to the bathroom while winwin fixes his jeans and puts his glasses back on.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

#— writing: wayv #wayv smut #wayv hard thoughts #wayv hard hours #winwin smut #winwin hard thoughts #yangyang smut #yangyang hard thoughts #winwin x reader #yangyang x reader #wayv x reader #nct smut #nct hard thoughts #nct x reader

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