#that i regret not responding directly to

[mxtxfanatic]

Let’s talk Yi City Arc! I’ve seen a few posts since my time in the fandom that talks about the Yi City Arc as unnecessary or out of place in the whole of the mdzs narrative. I’ve even seen some suggest that the disconnect is because Yi City was originally a separate story to mdzs, a sort of prototype, if you will, to explain it away. I, too, after my first read questioned the significance of this arc to the overall story. However, the Yi City arc and its placement so early in the novel is actually just a huge and very clever spoiler to most of the important plot points of the overarching story… if you know what plot points to look for, which an un-spoiled first-time reader would not. So let’s talk about those spoilers:

1) The righteous cultivation clans’ refusal to stand against evil—and, really, their indulgence of it—leads to the wiping out of an entire clan and a monastery as well as the deaths of two powerful cultivators unaffiliated with any major sect.

The “righteous” cultivation clans happily ignore that fact that the Jin Clan is amassing power through unscrupulous guest disciples, and it is only when Xiao Xingchen, an outsider, brings the crime against the Chang Clan to light do they bother to pretend to do anything about it. However behind the scenes, the Jin Clan assassinates their only real opposition, and the other clans, great and small, continue to do nothing as Xue Yang is released to commit another massacre. The Jin are never held responsible for their actions. Likewise, all the clans turn away from Wei Wuxian, an outsider, when he calls out the Jin Clan’s crimes against the Wen remnants and accuses them of amassing power via poaching vassal clans and attempting to steal his tools. Behind the scenes, the Jin work to undermine Wei Wuxian’s reputation before joining in to massacre Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants. The Jin are never held accountable for this, which directly leads into the Xue Yang situation.

2) Xiao Xingchen has his reputation slandered by Xue Yang killing others using his sword.

After Xiao Xingchen kills himself, Xue Yang begins using his sword to enact “vengeance” on the remnants of the Chang Clan, who he considers as having “betrayed” Xiao Xingchen. Finding the signature of Xiao Xingchen’s sword on the slain bodies leads the cultivation world to believe that a disillusioned Xiao Xingchen is killing in revenge. In much the same way, Wei Wuxian is used as a scapegoat by the cultivation world whenever bad things happen, such as the presence of walking corpses or the mass digging of graves. In neither situation does any clan investigate the true events of the situations, happy to blame the easiest suspect and allow the unrest to continue. In both situations, Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian are eventually found innocent of the crimes for which they are accused, and the true culprit is revealed.

3) Xiao Xingchen is betrayed by someone he considered close to him, which eventually leads to his death.

Xiao Xingchen, due to being literally blinded by his sacrifice, ends up running into, rescuing, and caring for his mortal enemy, Xue Yang. Taking advantage of Xiao Xingchen’s blindness, Xue Yang tricks him into murdering a bunch of innocents and his best friend, causing him to commit suicide. Wei Wuxian, similarly, is betrayed by a close friend he kept near, figuratively blinded by a former childhood friendship and the present debt he felt owed to said friend’s parents. This misplaced trust directly leads to his death.

4) Xiao Xingchen must give up his eyes for Song Lan to see again, because Baoshan Sanren is not magical.

This is probably the biggest spoiler of the entire arc, but by the time you get to where this information is relevant, you’d probably have forgotten that this was even said. Xue Yang blinds Song Lan after destroying his home, and to atone for this, Xiao Xingchen goes to his master, Baoshan Sanren, to beg for her help. However, Baoshan Sanren cannot make something out of nothing. Mxtx explicitly writes that tidbit into the narration. Song Lan goes up the mountain blind and comes down with eyes. Xiao Xingchen goes up the mountain with eyes and comes down blind. Song Lan was given Xiao Xingchen’s eyes.

Much later in the story, Jiang Cheng loses his golden core. Wei Wuxian offers the miracle solution of Baoshan Sanren “giving” him a new one. Jiang Cheng, obviously skeptical, questions Wei Wuxian up until the moment he must go up “Baoshan Sanren’s mountain” alone. Wei Wuxian descends, alone, looking pale and weak. Later, when Wei Wuxian is ambushed by the Wen, Wen “Core-melting Hand” Zhuliu touches him and is visibly shocked by a discovery that he then keeps to himself. Jiang Cheng emerges from the mountain with a new golden core, while Wei Wuxian emerges from the Burial Mounds with a new cultivation method wholly independent of the need for a golden core. The Yi City arc tells us why this is: “Baoshan Sanren” cannot make something out of nothing.

And these are just the major parallels I remember off the top of my head. However, while a reread makes a lot of these parallels directly applicable to specific plot points in Wei Wuxian’s own story, I would argue that the biggest role the explicit paralleling is meant to play for a new reader is to make you question the dominant narrative of the main story. The narration tells us that Wei Wuxian is a bloodthirsty man who may as well be a demon, known for cruelty and vengeance. We see none of that from his character when he is resurrected. Then we get a mini-drama where a man with attributes Wei Wuxian directly relates to, with a story Wei Wuxian directly compares to his own life, is scapegoated by society, killed, then eventually vindicated. If nothing else, the Yi City Arc is meant to make you, as a reader, stop and go “Hey, wait a minute, what if Wei Wuxian isn’t the bad guy here???” And once you understand that, you should start questioning everything the prologue told you, just like the juniors start to question what they were told about Xiao Xingchen post Yi City in their group debrief.

[wolfwarrior142]

hii um this may sound totally weird but i was just wondering, and you totally dont have to answer if you're not comfortable, but was it really hard to do the schooling to become a nurse? did you have to do any residency the way doctors do? did you have to do a lot of hard chemistry classes in school?

im just a college student who's trying to switch majors and i just needed some advice and i keep seeing that you're a licensed nurse and you can totally shut me up now.

again dont answer if you're not comfortable, no worries!

Hello! Oh it's totally fine to ask! Nothing wrong with it at all. I'm no expert on this and may not give the most helpful or concise answer, but I will try my best. And you're more than welcome to also message me to ask more about it, I'm happy to say what I know (and imma post this so other people who may be curious can read it too).

I'll be totally honest. Nursing school is worth kt for those who are interested in the field, but it is also extremely taxing to most people. Depending on your school, you will take 1-2 years of prerequisits, then 2-4 years depending on if the school has an associates or bachelor program. If the school has only an associates program, you will most likely need to complete 2 years beyond that school to earn your bachelor's. Most hospitals prefer or even require RNs to have a bachelor's degree, so unless you work at facility that's desperate for staff or don't want as broad of job options, you'll need the bachelor's. So that's 4 years in actual nursing school, plus 1-2 years of prerequisits if you don't already have some done.

For what prereqs you'll need, that depends on your school. Chemistry was by far one of the hardest prereqs I took, and statistics suuuucks. I'm usually decent with math, but stats has SO much word problems that it's just as much deciphering written problems as it is math. Its very confusing, and the teacher I took it with was new so she didn't have the best grasp on explaining stuff yet. Definitely recommend finding someone to work with in that class cuz you may need the extra brainpower to figure shit out.

Anatomy and Physiology really depends on where you go. Some places have great teachers for it, some have decent ones, some have teachers that make you wonder if the teacher only got their degree so they could torture and shit on students (I had the latter. Our teacher's average class grade was a C. When she started, most people failed the class. And she was proud that her students had such low grades. She made it seem like it was out fault, despite the fact that basically everyone had shit grades in her class. I'm pretty sure I somehow passed with a low B and I hated that class).

That's only some of the prereqs, there are many more and they depend on the school. Thankfully a lot of schools are good about transferring credits between institutions, so if you took the class at a different places the credit should still be mostly good.

Now for the actual program. Do objective research on what nursing school is actually like, preferably from people who have actually done it. Look at multiple sources. Ask students at the place you'd take it at if possible. Get an idea of what it's like. Then think on it for a while and decide if you're willing to deal with that.

Nursing school is tough. It kicks your ass. It changes you as a person, both by making you more nurse-oriented and just as a person in general. It is very worth it, but it is also very intense and taxing for most people. If you are truly hesitant on if you want to pursue it, don't. At least not for right now. I'm serious. Nursing school takes a ton of work, and if your heart isn't in it you may have an extremely hard time passing. Or may not pass at all. And if you are any kind of neurodivergent, you'll likely have an even harder time. Trust me, I know.

Most nursing teachers are nice or at least chill. Some are mean. Some are absolute assholes. Doesn't mean they won't be beneficial, but they may make things harder for you. If they offer to help, then take em up on that offer when needed. There's a lot of things that take a lot of practice and studying to understand, and if theyre willing to help explain shit, that can make it easier. Besides, we were taught early on that being curious and asking questions and vital for nursing. You'll ALWAYS be learning new things, no matter how long you've been a nurse. And while you're in school, teachers who are willing to help you when needed are lifesavers. But be prepared that most of em will not help a ton as they do not want to hold your hand.

Find friends to study/work on stuff with. Figure out your learning style (hearing, reading, writing, hands on, a combo, etc). Develop a studying technique, and be prepared that you may need to alter it. Be prepared to spend most of your days engrossed in reading stuff for classes, as otherwise you're not gonna learn enough and you'll struggle. However, youtube videos from credible sources can really help.

The tests are brutal. They're different than most tests. There's literally a whole textbook made to help you figure out how to properly understand and answer NCLEX questions for a reason. There's a whole damn process on how to answer NCLEX questions. There have been many times where while answering questions at work for training (questions that are given to Medical Assistants (MA) as well as nurses), my MA coworkers will be confused by the question and why there's multiple right answers. And I just laugh and say "Oh I can immediately tell from the style of this question that it was written by an RN in NCLEX style. I'm so sorry." Questions on nursing tests are a whole other breed of questions, and that's because they help your brain think through things in a way that is beneficial when dealing with real pts. Which is useful, but also a pain in the ass.

You will HAVE to get used to understanding the process of stuff rather than just memorizing a single answer. Rarely are questions just about remembering a simple answer. They're mostly about understanding a process of how something works, and using that knowledge in the context of the question to answer it. If that makes sense. Like I said, nursing school rewires your brain. And when it actually works and you realize you're able to think about stuff and process it in that way, it is SO rewarding.

There's a lot. Nursing school is intense. Like I said, if you're truly hesitant and have strong doubts, don't commit to it for now. You have to be truly determined to give nursing school your best shot to start it, because if you're hesitant then you're mentally not gonna be as prepared as you should be to complete it. You still can, but it'll be difficult as shit and there's a solid chance you may not be able to.

I HIGHLY recommend getting a job in healthcare first if you don't have much experience with as a healthcare professional and are hesitant on if you want to do it or not. You can earn your CNA license, or go a step above and earn your MA license. Then work in a setting where you get to utilize that license. Then if you do decide to advance to get a nursing degree, you'll have a major leg up as you'll have medical knowledge and experience that will be very beneficial. Besides, many programs require students to earn a CNA license first, so you'll probably have to anyway.

There is nothing at all wrong with waiting a few years to get into nursing school. Tbh, a lot of my classmates were in their mid to late 20s or older and they seemed to have an easier time than us younger people did. They had their head on their shoulders better. They had an easier time focusing in school it seemed. Plenty of my classmates were also my age or younger and also did very well, but it really seems that being a bit older helps for a lot of people in nursing school. And the more prior medical experience they had, the easier it was for them.

I will fully admit that I didn't complete Registered Nursing school. There were multiple things that made me withdraw when I did. But I completed enough to obtain my Licensed Practical Nurse license (in my RN program, it's the first full year and first quarter of second year, as what is taught there is essentially equivalent to what an LPN class it). So I didn't finish yet, but I'm still making use of what I did learn. And after a few years, I plan to complete an LPN to RN bridge course. Currently I'm working as an LPN in a clinic to help build my knowledge in prep of that, and because my LPN license is still extremely useful and shows that I did at least something. Doesn't stop the absolutely raging imposter syndrome, but at least I am still a nurse and have something to show for what I did complete of nursing school (I withdraw close to the end of 2nd quarter of 2nd year, so after almost 5 quarters in. Just 1 quarter shy of a full RN license, which sucks, but I was struggling SO bad).

Do research. A lot of it. Look into what nursing school is like and what is required at the school you want to go to for it/at the school you're currently at. Nursing school is not for the faint of heart and it is not an easy degree. Some schools are a TON easier, but those schools tend to also not teach their students as well and produce people who have a harder time passing the NCLEX as a result. My program was very tough to get into, with hundreds of students applying each year and only 150 being chosen. And they grilled us HARD. But the harder programs tend to also produce more knowledgeable nurses. Hell, I passed my PN-NCLEX first try after only having to complete half the test before the computer program determined I didn't need to do anymore because of the score I already had (there's an algorithm that runs during the test that gives you harder or easier questions depending on if you get them right or wrong, respectively, and eventually it ends the test early if it determines that you've answered enough that you'd either pass/fail the rest of the test if you were to finish it. If that makes sense. It's super cool). And I hardly studied before the test because I was a nervous wreck (thankfully you can take it multiple times with not penalty except cost, which is SO comforting). And I like to think that the way my program taught us helped me have an easier time passing. Compared to some other people I know, who completed their whole nursing program from other schools and had to take the RN-NCLEX multiple times before they could pass it. The programs that are easier to get into are also easier to complete, which is SO nice, but they'll also probably leave you less prepared for the standardized state NCLEX test and nursing in general.

Still absolutely nothing wrong with completing an easier program, tho. You can only learn so much in nursing school and you leave it with only a basic knowledge of nursing in general. They cram a LOT into your brain and make you drink it from a fire hose, but there's SO much about nursing that is learned after you graduate. And you'll always be learning. ALWAYS. So the program you choose is only a starting point. Just your choice which one you go for.

I'm sorry, that's a lot. Nursing is a LOT. There's a reason why one of the phrases I adopted and used a TON in nursing school was, "It'll be worth it in the end, but god at what cost." (Also started and still frequently use "It's better to be safe than sorry.") It was tough, and I'm not super looking forward to when I complete my RN degree. But for those who are determined enough, it is so, so worth it. Its impossible to know what it'll be like until you're there, but just know it takes a lot of determination and accepting that it'll kick your ass. Your life will be Nursing School Only while in the program. You will leave a changed person. But if you're willing to do it, especially after doing some of your own research into it, I highly recommend it. It kicked my ass but I don't regret it for a second, and I definitely want to complete my RN at some point.

I'm driven to help people and have always wanted to do something in a medical field (animal or human), and nursing is one of the main ways I saw myself doing that. And even with my LPN license, I'm still in a position to help people. I have helped some people and always strive to do so when possible. I have no regrets. And despite how hard it is, I highly recommend at least considering it if it speaks to you as well. It is not a light, easy decision, but it's a worth-while one if you choose it and set your mind to it.

[lynxgriffin]

Mightier Than The Sword

Gerson had one regret, but now Alvin has many. A fancomic about my thoughts and theories and who -and what- the Knight is!

While not directly connected, I'd say this one is in the same vein as the Deal With The Devil series! Hope you enjoy!

Alt text for this comic under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Wide shot of the interior of the Boom household. Several monsters are gathered in a clean-looking hall, dressed in somber clothing and talking quietly in small groups. The monsters include QC, Cat Mom, Toriel, Asgore and Mayor Holiday. Father Alvin stands waiting at a door in the hall as his sister, a red-headed turtle monster in a pink dress, exits through the door and speaks to him. “Alvin…he’s ready for you.”

Panel 2 - Mid shot as Alvin prepares to enter the room. Ms. Boom steps out of the way, and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Both of them look somber. 

Panel 3 - Alvin enters the room, mostly dark and lit by a few candles on a nearby desk. Gerson Boom is lying on a bed ahead of him, watching him enter. Alvin closes the door behind him and says, “Father, I’m here.”

Panel 4 - Alvin approaches his father, lying in bed. The bedroom has a few amenities, including a footstool set off to the side, a large rug bearing the delta rune, and a massive bookcase filling the entire back wall. A few books and papers litter the ground. Alvin bows his head, and says, “The hammer is ready for…for afterwards.”

Gerson just smiles, and responds, “Wa ha, is it? Well, it’ll do fine, I suppose.”

Panel 5 - Closer shot of Gerson extending his right hand towards Alvin. He’s smiling still, content with where he is. “Come here, son.”

Page 2

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin takes his father’s hand in his own, and clasps it tight. “Whatever you need…I’m here,” he says from offscreen.

Panel 2 - Alvin kneels by his father’s bedside, still clasping his hands. Gerson says, “Of course you are. Wa ha…you’re such a good and kind man, Alvin.”

Panel 3 - Closeup on Alvin as he just holds on to his father’s hand. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

Panel 4 - Focus on Gerson as he holds up a hand to conspiratorially whisper to Alvin. “And I know I can trust you with a secret, right?”

Panel 5 - Closeup on Alvin as he looks back up, face earnest. “...Of course.”

Panel 6 - Gerson holds up one finger as he speaks to Alvin. “I told your sister I had no regrets, but that was a BIT of a fib! I’m afraid I have one regret…”

Panel 7 - Side view of Alvin as he learns closer, his face now worried. “Father?...”

Page 3

Panel 1 - Focus on Gerson as he leans back on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I had started earlier. Writing stories, I mean. Seein’ you an’ your sister’s eyes light up whenever I read you a new chapter…and then seeing all that joy from so many young folks after those stories were published!” he says, looking wistful.

Panel 2 - Alvin watches on sadly as Gerson continues, “It was the greatest feeling in the world, Alvin. It’s what life’s all about, y’know. Helping the young folks grow.”

Panel 3 - Gerson closes his eyes and looks back towards the ceiling again, still wistful. “So, I wish I’d started writing stories sooner.”

Panel 4 - Closeup on Alvin as he bows his head, still holding Gerson’s hand. “I truly do cherish those times you read to us, father…” he says.

Panel 5 - Closeup on Gerson as he closes his mind with happy memories. “Me too, Alvin. It’s a shame…I’ve still got so many tales to tell! But–”

Panel 6 - Gerson is interrupted by a round of hacking coughs. His time is fast approaching.

Panel 7 - Gerson settles back in to his bed and says, “The Angel’s given me SO many good, happy years. Doesn’t seem fair to ask for more.”

Panel 8 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to hold his father’s hand tight. “This doesn’t seem fair, either…” he says, tears still pricking at his eyes.

Page 4

Panel 1 -  Insert closeup of Gerson as he smiles at his son. “That’s life, Alvin!” He doesn’t seem bothered by his imminent passing.

Panel 2 - Side view as Gerson leans in closer to Alvin again, hand raised, back to sharing his secrets. “But, knowin’ my secret…there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Alvin faces his father with seriousness. “Anything,” he replies.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Gerson, as he looks hopefully at Alvin. “You have a good heart, Alvin. I want you to know this joy, too.”

Panel 4 - Gerson continues in the next panel: “Please try writin’ stories of your own, alright?” Closeup on Alvin as he looks shocked and a bit worried by the request.

Panel 5 - Mid shot as Alvin holds up a hand to Gerson in protest. He says, “Father, I…I have no talent for writing fiction. Not like YOU.”

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson as he refutes his son: “Hogwash! I know you can.”

Panel 7 - Wide shot as Alvin stands up, and looks around the room. “No, I…”

In the foreground, there’s Gerson’s desk, currently showing some lit candles, some paper, an inkwell, a notebook, and his favorite fountain pen.

Page 5

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin grabs two objects off of the desk: the small notebook and the fountain pen. Offscreen, he says, “If you just…”

Panel 2 - Back at Gerson’s bedside, Alvin pulls up the footstool and puts the pen and notebook in front of him, intending to use it. He faces his father, and says, “Tell me your ideas, I could write them down, and–”

Gerson interrupts him: “‘Fraid it doesn’t work that way, Alvin!”

Panel 3 - Gerson holds up both of his hands and smiles as he explains: “My tales are between my soul and the pen. You’ll need to make your own.”

Panel 4 - Gerson watches as Alvin, tears in his eyes, looks down at the notebook and pen in hand. “I–I cannot…” Alvin starts, looking despondent.

Panel 5 - Side view of Alvin as tears continue to stream from his eyes. He says, “Not without you!” In the background, in grayscale, there is a scene from Alvin’s memory: Gerson reading a book to his two children by the fire. Gerson looks happy, and both kids are enraptured, with Alvin clinging to a cat doll that looks like Seam.

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson, his face now more worried and pleading towards Alvin. Gerson says, “Y-you can… It’s all I ask…”

Panel 7 - Gerson turns away as he’s again interrupted by a round of terrible sounding coughs. Alvin stands holding the notebook and pen in the foreground.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Horror comes over Alvin’s face as his father continues to cough loudly, clutching his chest. He realizes that his father might be close to death now.

Panel 2 - Wider overhead shot as Alvin turns away from Gerson, looking frantically around the room. “No! Not yet!--” he says desperately. Gerson is still racked with coughs.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin grabs the candles from the desk–

Panel 4 - And then pulls a book from the bookshelf, with the delta rune on the front –

Panel 5 - And then finally pulls out what appears to be a beaded rosary, with the delta rune made of beads at the end of it.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as Alvin places the objects in front of him, candles to the side, holy book in front of him. Gerson can only lay there as he does so, trying to catch his breath.

Panel 7 - Front view of Alvin as he clasps his hands together in front of his face, the rosary threaded between his fingers. He closes his eyes and bows his head in prayer. “Angel…Angel above! Please, heed your servant’s prayer!”

Page 7

Panel 1 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to pray, the candles glowing around him. He keeps his eyes shut even as tears well in them. “I know you call back my father’s soul, but please! Please refrain!”

Panel 2 - Gerson desperately reaches a hand out towards his son, shaking, but unable to reach him. In the foreground, the fountain pen sits on the footstool between them. “A-Alvin…” Gerson’s voice is shaky now.

Panel 3 - Aerial shot as Alvin prays over the book, and Gerson is still confined to the bed, only able to watch. “This world still NEEDS his gifts!” Alvin says. “I pray to you, don’t take them from us now!” The shadows around Alvin start to grow strange, not matching the candlelight.

Panel 4 - Gerson continues to hold out a hand, now not looking well. “No…”

Panel 5 - Closeup on the candles as they spark to life, now glowing stronger.

Panel 6 - A strange bright glow begins to emanate from Gerson. Behind him, the books in the bookcase all rattle and shift as if in a localized earthquake. The colors of the room grow brighter and stranger.

Panel 7 - Still reaching out a desperate hand, Gerson lets out a soft breath. His soul, an upside-down white heart, comes up from his body. On the footstool in the foreground, the fountain pen also begins to levitate, as if by magic.

Page 8

Panel 1 - Front shot of Alvin as he continues to pray desperately, his head bowed and hands together. “Grant us the love shown between his soul and the pen!” Behind him, the colors have grown stark and bright, and a shadow resembling the angel looms behind Alvin.

Panel 2 - Alvin looks up to discover something amazing and terrible: Gerson’s soul has been drawn to the fountain pen, and begins to flow down into it.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Gerson’s soul is completely absorbed into the pen, hovering high over the bed.

Panel 4 - The candles turn strange blue and pink colors, and the books in the bookcase shake and rattle relentlessly.

Panel 5 - Extreme closeup on Alvin’s eyes as he sees this miracle; the light of his father’s soul reflected in his eyes.

Panel 6 - Closeup as the pen suddenly drops, and clatters back on to the footstool.

Panel 7 - Wide aerial shot as the room very suddenly goes completely dark and silent, the bright colors and lights now gone. Alvin stands up and backs away from the bed, still clutching the rosary, his face filled with horror. Gerson now lies unmoving in his bed, having passed away.

Page 9

Panel 1 - The same shot as the first panel of the first page, with the other monsters waiting in the hallway. No one says anything as Alvin emerges from the bedroom, leaning on the door for support, his head bowed. Everyone in the room knows that Gerson has just passed, although they don’t know the rest.

Panel 2 - An establishing shot of the forest and mountains surrounding Hometown…the skies are a dark, gloomy gray.

Panel 3 - Above shot of Gerson’s newly dug grave. At the bottom of a small pit lies Gerson’s hammer, covered in his dust. Politics Bear stands over the grave, holding a shovel. 

Panel 4 - Closeup as the shovel begins to dump dirt over the fresh grave.

Panel 5 - Another closeup of Gerson’s headstone, with bundles of fresh funerary flowers laid in front of it.

Panel 6 - Wide shot of Gerson’s funeral. Alvin stands over his father’s grave, reading last rites from one of his books. Lots of monsters are in attendance, including Alphys and Undyne, Napstablook, the Holiday and Dreemurr families, and more. A very young Kris, Noelle and Asriel are present, but Dess is not. Everyone is dressed in dark mourning attire.

Panel 7 - After the funeral, Toriel approaches Alvin and puts a hand on his shoulder. She says, “Beautifully said, Alvin. I know your father is watching proudly by the side of the Angel.” Alvin looks distant and mournful.

Panel 8 - A closeup of the fountain pen laying forgotten on the desk in Gerson’s room. Gerson is, perhaps, not actually with the Angel right now.

Panel 9 - Back at the funeral, Alvin bows his head, eyes closed. “You are too kind, Toriel,” he says.

Page 10

Panels 1-3 - We see the seasons pass through the changing of the trees…from the barren white trees of winter, to colorful pink blooms for spring, to the bright oranges and reds of fall.

Panel 4 - Sometime much later, Alvin again enters his father’s old room, alone.

Panel 5 - Much of Gerson’s room has remained untouched. The fountain pen still sits on his old writing desk in the foreground. Alvin steps inside, and carefully turns on the overhead light. “It’s been years,” he says.

Panel 6 - Alvin cautiously approaches the pen, which seems to loom large ahead of him. He hesitantly picks it up.

Panel 7 - Alvin places some blank pages on the writing desk. “Surely…”

Panel 8 - Alvin sits in front of the blank pages, still holding the pen cautiously. “Surely by now, I can do it.” He’s going to try writing.

Panel 9 - Closeup as Alvin dips the pen in the inkwell, and it comes away full of ink.

Panel 10 - Closeup as Alvin holds the pen over the blank page. The pen trembles slightly in his grip.

Panel 11 - Alvin tries to put pen to paper, but he’s still trembling. He looks down with great anxiety. “I…I…”

Panel 12 - Closeup on Alvin’s face as he looks more panicked, shaking and sweating. In the background, his memory of his father’s soul being absorbed into the pen plays back at him. This is still his fault.

Panel 13 - Closeup again as Alvin’s hand shakes uncontrollably, and the pen with it. Ink spots begin to dapple the blank page–

Page 11

Panel 1 - Alvin’s shaking hand accidentally knocks over the inkwell, and it spills black ink all over the blank page.

Panel 2 - Alvin picks up the ruined paper and folds it in half to try and stem the ink spillage. He quietly curses to himself. 

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin holds his head in his hand. It’s clear that this isn’t going to work. “I can’t…” 

Panel 4 - Closeup as Alvin puts the ink-stained paper back on the desk, and quickly grabs up the pen and inkwell.

Panel 5 - Taking the pen and inkwell, Alvin exits his father’s room again, head bowed and expression sad.

Panel 6 - Left behind, the folded paper slowly peels apart and unfolds…

Panel 7 - To reveal that the spilled ink has created a rorschach ink blot image of a titan. 

Page 12

Panel 1 - Wide shot as Alvin trudges down the streets of Hometown, alone. His head his bowed, and he’s still clutching the articles he took with him. It’s almost nighttime, and the sky is dark. “I cannot bear this kind of burden,” he says to himself.

Panel 2 - Shot from behind Alvin as he approaches the school building. It’s dark, and no students or teachers should be there. “Maybe you belong where you always have…”

Panel 3 - Now indoors, Alvin continues down the empty hallway towards a particular destination. “With the youth.”

Panel 4 - Alvin opens the door to the storage closet at the end of the hall. It opens with a soft creak. “Teaching. Telling stories,” Alvin continues to say to himself.

Panel 5 - Alvin places the fountain pen and inkwell on a small shelf in the storage closet. The closet is almost completely black. 

Panel 6 - The inkwell and pen are left on the shelf as Alvin closes the door behind him. His expression is mournful as he locks these reminders of his father away. “Inspiring someone better suited,” he says, hoping this is a suitable escape of his responsibility.

Page 13

Panel 1 - But in the storage closet, the objects are subject to something else already there: the grand Dark Fountain. The pen, ink and papers all fall into the darkness of the fountain–

Panel 2 - And start to change, the pen seemingly turning into liquid itself–

Panel 3 - As the pen falls deeper and deeper into the dark, the liquid begins to reshape into something new, something resembling a person–

Panel 4 - Until it lands on empty ground, now a person in knight’s armor, knelt over and holding his head in his hands.

Panel 5 - The Knight comes to, and starts to become more aware. He’s dressed in armor resembling the dark metallic sheen of the fountain pen, his mask resembling the pen tip. A bright deep red cape flows from his shoulders, and a single red-orange feather tops the helmet. “Where…am I?”

Panel 6 - The Knight again touches his helmet with both hands, as if not sure exactly what he is.

Panel 7 - Interior shot of the helmet, which reveals a figure much like Gerson…but much younger, more idealized-looking, with colors not matching his actual self. A Dark World interpretation. “WHY am I…?”

Panel 8 - A closeup of the Knight’s hand, slightly trembling.

Panel 9 - The Knight stares down at his own hands as realization begins to flood him, or at least something that looks like realization. “Wait. I see why. I KNOW.” he says.

 Page 14

Panel 1 - The Knight holds up his hand, and a sword appears in it in a flash of lights. The sword resembles the tip of a fountain pen, almost split neatly in two. “I serve the Lightners! That is my purpose!” Says the Knight. 

Panel 2 - The Knight draws the sword back with great fervor and determination. His thoughts echo around him in strong letters: “A purpose so bright, so clear…”

Panel 3 - In the final panel, the Knight drives the sword into the ground, causing an eruption of black ink-like material to spew from the ground…the creation of a new Dark Fountain. In the fountain itself, words reflect his purpose: “I EXIST TO GIVE THEM STORIES FOREVER.”

[girlyteengirlcore]

cw: overstimulation, orgasm control??, clit torture, cunnilingus, anal fingering, slight bondage, power dynamic, d/s dynamics, pet names, impact play, safe word mentioned but not used, guided masterbation

wc: 1.6k

Your ears are ringing from the countless orgasms you’ve been exposed to. The tears pouring down your cheeks are only used as encouragement for your wife, encouragement to continue the pleasurable torture.

Ambessa has your legs pushed up against your chest with her left forearm, her other hand occupied with the task of pummelling three of her fingers in and out of you at an intense speed. You had tried for over an hour to get her to relent, your cries falling on deaf ears. She didn’t even give you a verbal answer since she was busy using her mouth to suck up your clit into her mouth and swirl patterns on it with her tongue. Using her teeth every now and then to get a more vocal reaction out of you.

You’ve gone nearly completely silent, breaking the squelching filled silence with your whimpers whenever you were about to cum. Your body is so tired, your brain screaming at you to say your safe word but it all felt too good. Using your hands to push her away wasn’t an option either, she made sure of that by handcuffing them to the headboard above you before she begun.

You feel as if a higher power had granted you mercy when she moves off of your clit for the first time, in a way that’s exactly what happened. This victory was very short-lived when you feel her fingers exit you and her tongue enter you. To your dismay, you see her previously occupied fingers start moving towards your clit. This change in rhythm gives you the idea to squirm up the bed to try and get away, so you do just that. Looking to get some sort of break.

She stops everything she’s doing to look up at you, she looks directly into your eyes and holds her intimidating gaze until she feels you’ve gotten the message. She reaches up with her left hand and swings it in the air, milliseconds later you feel the impact of the hit. Soon after that, your vision comes back and you feel the hand gripping your jaw. You lock eyes with the woman above you.

“Child, if you dare to do anything of that nature again, you will regret it.” A chill ran down your spine, making you shiver.

“Do you hear me, girl?” She all but spits in your face.

You nod, sheepishly. Still in shock, you try to not let the new wave of tears spill from your eyes. You fail, miserably at that. You go to hold on to her, to wrap your arms around her neck and embrace her, only to then be reminded that you can’t.

“I want a reply.”

“Yes,” you respond in one of the quietest voices she’s ever heard.

“Yes what?” It almost as if she’s staring right through you.

“Yes, I hear you. I won’t move.” Your words interrupted by sobs and sniffles.

She moves her hand up to your face to wipe away your tears; a small gesture with huge impacts.

“Good. Now, where was I?” Her rhetorical question shocks you back into reality.

“Wai-! Wait, please. Please ‘Bessa, just give me a moment.”

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until she accepts your request with a small nod. You empty your lungs, relieved. She takes to kissing up the back of your thighs and back down again, ghosting the tips of her fingers up your waist. Resulting in your fast breaths, turning into slow and steady ones. Once you are ruled competent, she doesn’t hesitate to continue.

She pulls the hood of your clit up and uses the tip of her tongue to draw little patterns on it, you chuckle once you realise she spelling her name. She then latches her mouth onto your clit, collects the mix of her spit and your arousal on one of her fingers and uses it as lube for your other hole. The dual stimulation brings you to another orgasm a lot faster than you were anticipating, you buck your hips up and let out some cute little whimpers. Ambessa’s mouth follows you wherever you go, there is no escaping her when she’s hungry.

Your orgasm resulted in another one of her fingers pushing into your ass. Your eyes rolling back in your head as less than a minute later your next orgasm was up and coming, barely giving you enough time to recoup after the last. At this point you are thrashing around, the sound of the handcuffs scraping on the wooden head board was very unpleasant for the both of you, but you were no longer in control of your movements and she sees that. Taking her fingers out of you and wrapping both of her huge arms around your legs, she continues making out with your cunt. Her head moving in circular motions to draw your orgasm out, oh boy did it work. You screamed through your teeth, she chuckled against you at your reaction.

She moves away from you and watches you pulses in overstimulation, she watches your cum drip out of you and leans in to slurp it all up. Careful to not touch your clit.

“Well done, my dear. How many was that?” She asks while crawling up next to you and unlocking the handcuffs, she brings your wrists up to her mouth and kisses them gently. You look at her dumbfounded, how on earth were you to remember how many times you came? She sees the confusion on your face and laughs.

“I’m just joking.” You huff a little in amusement.

She places you on top of her, so your back is against her chest. You spread your legs once again, knowing what’s coming. Every time you have sex always ends in one final orgasm from you while you are in her hold. This is where you unwind, you get to ground yourself with the help of her touch all around you. It’s slow and loving and very much necessary.

“Well done, I didn’t even have to instruct you.” She teases.

She pulls your legs up and places her elbows on the inside of your knees, trapping you, so that you are completely at her mercy. While this isn’t meant to be torturous in any way, she does know that if she doesn’t restrain you, you will make this very hard.

You already know what to do, you reach down with both hands and open yourself up for her. She slowly reintroduces herself with your pussy, covering it fully with her hand making small movements but nothing too much. Then, she pushes one finger inside of you, making you cringe at the sound it makes.

“Rub your clit for me, baby.”

“I- I can’t, it’s too much. I can- can’t do it.”

“I’m not really asking you, sweetheart. Come on, you can do.” An encouraging yet sinister smile takes over her face. She moves her fingers out of you and takes over pulling the hood of your clit up.

You put your finger in your mouth and then place it on your abused clit, the sensation making you gasp. You make very slow circles, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much.

“Faster, love. I’m right here, you can do it.”

Alas, her words are meaningless to you. You’re stuck at the current speed, there’s no changing it. Until she grabs your finger with her thumb, index, and middle finger and uses them to move your finger for you. Speeding up your movements slightly.

“There we go. Not that bad, is it?”

You don’t answer, you can’t. It’s all too much. You’re twitching and all you focus on is hurdling towards what will be your final orgasm of the night. Holding your breath, waiting for it to wash over you.

“Breathe, sweetheart. No holding your breath, breathe through it, dear.” You nod, letting out a breath before slowly taking another shaky one in.

She knows by the bucking of your hips and shallow breaths that you are nearly at the finish line.

“Look at that, you’re going to cum again aren’t you, gorgeous?”

You nod feverishly, trying to speed up your finger even if it hurts because you know it will feel amazing once you finish.

“Uh uh, this is the perfect speed. Don’t forget to breathe, my darling.”

“But I’m ne-”

“Excuse me?”

Your silence answers her question.

“ ‘Bessa I’m gonna cum- can I cum please.”

“Of course you can.”

“I want you to do it, please ‘Bessa. Please make me cum.” All shame left your body a while ago, that comes with being married to Ambessa. There’s no room for shame, unless she makes room for it. If you want something, ask nicely.

“I would love to.”

She takes over and immediately you feel warm waves of pleasure wash over you, again and again. You let out loud, obscene moans. She guides you through your orgasm with small kisses on your jaw and neck, leaving small marks on the area.

“Well done, my love. You’re all done now.” She says while turning you around so that you can dig your face into the crook of her neck. Her scent filled your noses and calmed you down, almost sending you straight to sleep.

“We must bathe, dear. You can sleep then, don’t fall asleep just yet.”

The next hour or so is used to clean and relax you for your nights sleep, Ambessa uses this time to not only get you ready for bed but to bring you back down. To ground you fully, to make you aware of your obedience, and to praise your actions from the events preceding.

You fall asleep in her arms, feeling more than loved.

I don’t know where this came from, I just started writing and then didn’t stop

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[enhani-ki]

🎀 nishimura riki as your classmate that's in love you 🎀

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

♱ student!reader who is a mean girl and delinquent but classmate!ni-ki thinks he might be into it.

♱ classmate!niki who keeps on showing up wherever you go.

"what the fuck, ni-ki? do you have a tracker on me or something?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

he replied, "it's just a coincidence." shrugging. "don't flatter yourself."

"bullshit." you shot back, crossed arms. "you're always popping up where i least want you."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who's very attentive to you and even though he never actually said it, he's making it painfully obvious how much he likes you.

when the teacher had finally decided to do something about your constant tardiness, you ended up sweeping the dusty classroom floor where ni-ki spotted you.

"what do you want?" you asked when you heard his footsteps. you turned to face him, resting your hands on the broom handle.

he replied, "i'm just going to wait for you."

you rolled your eyes and turned back to your task. "don't you have something better to do?"

"hmm, not really." he stepped into the room, "i think this is more fun."

"watching me clean? oh you've got a weird definition of 'fun'."

he didn't answer. he simply stood there, watching you and even though he is silent, ni-ki's presence was still distracting.

you felt tired suddenly and with a huff, you glanced over your shoulder.

"ca-can you help me?"

the words left your mouth quietly before you could stop them, you instantly regretted it. "my god..." you thought. you weren't used to asking anyone for help, let alone ni-ki's.

your cheeks burned slightly as you turned away. "nevermind..." you said, turning to focus on the floor again.

ni-ki stepped forward and took the broom from your hands without a word.

"hey-"

"i got it." he said, cutting you off. he started sweeping like he'd been doing it all his life and within minutes, the dirt pile you'd been struggling with had already doubled in size.

you stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do or feel with yourself. "you don't have to do everything..."

"you asked for help, so i'm just being thorough." he said, making you flustered.

you turned away and muttered, "thanks, i guess."

"no problem." he replied, still focused on sweeping.

you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. his sleeves were rolled up slightly and his hair was bouncing with every movement.

ni-ki looked so…

and before you could finish that thought, he dusted his hands off with a satisfied smile. "done. anything else you want me to do?"

what is he, a butler?

you stared and blinked at him, unsure how to respond. finally, you shook your head. "no... that's it."

"good." he said, walking past you to put the broom away then he leaned close to you making you step back. "next time, just ask me from the start. you know i don't mind doing stuff for you."

"are you genie?"

"jinny? who's that jerk?"

"the genie from the movie, you idiot..."

ni-ki laughed awkwardly. "ahh the one from movie."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who gets jealous easily when a guy approaches you.

"hey." a voice called. you looked up to see a guy from another class approaching, smiling easy and confident. "do you wanna partner up for gym?"

"ni-ki! here!"

you turned and saw ni-ki standing with a group of guys with a soccer ball in his hands. he was staring at the guy beside you and without hesitation, he launched the ball. not towards his friends though but directly at the guy's head.

the ball smacked into the back of his head with a satisfying thud, cutting off whatever the guy was about to say.

"ow! what the hell?" the guy turned around, rubbing the back of his head as niki jogged over, faking innocence.

"sorry, bad aim." ni-ki said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

the guy said something under his breath before walking off, leaving you staring at ni-ki in disbelief.

"seriously?" you asked, shaking your head.

ni-ki shrugged, completely unapologetic. "yeah, so what?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes, kicking another rock as you walked away from him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who keeps asking you to go to school everyday that you actually started showing up little by little and going in early didn't seem so bad anymore, and not to mention, you're grades were starting to improve too.

you handed back his notes then ni-ki adjusted your tie, his knuckles were brushing against your chest.

suddenly, ni-ki glanced at his watch then cupped your face gently. "i gotta go before someone sees me hanging out with a bad girl." he teased, grinning while anticipating your reaction.

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "oh, so you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

his lips curled into a smirk, "i'll kiss you in front of everyone if you want." he said, adding a laugh.

you eyes widened, heat started to rush to your cheeks. flustered, you pulled his hands away. "you just said-"

"i'll see you later!" ni-ki interrupted, spinning on his heel with a playful grin before sprinting off, leaving you standing there, completely stunned.

"that guy..."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who teases you about your handwriting but secretly keeps every note you've ever written for him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who kept asking to copy your homework, but it's actually just an excuse to check if you did it right.

♱ classmate!ni-ki whom you unexpectedly started making out with, one night while studying at your house.

and when he stood and stretched after, you accidentally looked at his pants where his dick were straining against the fabric, making a tent on his sweats.

you quickly whipped your head away. but ni-ki noticed and laughed as he walked towards the bathroom. "yeah, but i promise it's nothing you can't handle."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who seems to be really patient with you.

you wandered through the library then you spotted niki sitting by the window. his head were leaning back against the seat, eyes closed and looking so peaceful.

your heart ached slightly. you sat down quietly beside him, trying not to disturb him.

and as if sensing your presence, ni-ki's eyes fluttered open. a small smile formed his lips as he shifted, putting his arm on the back of the seat behind, welcoming you. then, without a word, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

"i missed you." he murmured, his voice were low and sleepy.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. "what happened the other day…" you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "did you tell anyone?"

ni-ki lifted his head slightly, his expression turned into worry. "no, of course i didn't."

"good…" you muttered, letting out a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

he smiled faintly and rested his head against your shoulder again, his hand grabbed yours, caressing it, as if reassuring you.

"i- it's not a big deal, right? niki?" you asked.

ni-ki's jaw tightened for the briefest moment, his outward calm masking the storm that's happening inside. maybe it's just making out but the truth? he's been thinking about it nonstop, replaying every detail in his mind and it gave him more clarity just how much he likes you... and that he had probably jerked off thousand more times since that day.

but he wasn't about to let you know that.

"no." he whispered, his lips brushing close to your ear, "it's not."

you turned to him, your eyes lighting up with relief. "great! thanks…"

before he could respond, you stood abruptly, brushing your skirt down. "well, i've got to go now. see you!" you said, smiling while giving him a quick wave.

ni-ki watched you go, his hand still resting on the seat where yours had been moments earlier. he sighed confused, running a hand through his hair.

"yeah, sure." he muttered to himself, half-heartedly returning your wave. his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view, and then he leaned back in his chair, the ache in his chest stronger than ever.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who uses your birthday as his phone passcode.

♱ student!reader who's slowly getting more conscious and aware about how popular ni-ki is... but he's yours.

you went back to class where you notice girls were chatting together. "niki asked me to wait for him after class!" a girl squealed nearby, her excitement cutting through your thoughts.

your ears perked up liked a dog then stepped closer to eavesdrop.

"do you think he'll ask you out?" another girl added.

you scoffed audibly, unable to help yourself. the sound drew their attention and you froze as their curious gazes landed on you. blinking awkwardly, you mumbled an apology and quickly walked away.

you: are you busy after class?

you: are you going somewhere with someone?

ni-ki: oh, right. i'm just going to talk to the new class representative. like an orientation thing.

ni-ki: i can cancel, though.

you laughed loudly and shook your head.

you: no, no! don't cancel. we can hang out later.

later, the two of you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing in the background. ni-ki had his head resting on your lap, scrolling aimlessly on his phone but after a while, he sat and he set it aside. you could feel him staring at you.

"what?" you asked, not bothering to look away from your own phone.

he didn't answer immediately, instead he gently moved your hair to the side. his fingers were brushing lightly against your neck.

"stop." you muttered, still scrolling.

ni-ki chuckled softly. "i don't want to."

sighing, you set your phone aside as well, giving him an exasperated look. "why the hell do you keep doing this?"

"doing what?"

"i don't know, maybe the flirting, doing everything for me, following me around-"

"oh, i thought you already knew." ni-ki interrupted.

"knew what?"

"that i like you." he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you blinked, taken aback, before scoffing. "how can you say that so casually…" you muttered under your breath.

he smirked at your reaction. "what? it's true. i thought you knew."

"i know that! but i just never heard you actually say it until now." you replied, your voice quieter than before.

ni-ki sat up slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to meet his gaze. "i like you, y/n."

you turned your head slightly. "i- i said i know that… you don't have to repeat it."

his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "you shy?"

you pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed. "i'm not!"

ni-ki didn't buy it, a chuckle escaped his lips. he reached down and grabbed one of your thighs, effortlessly pulling it over his lap.

"i bet you're going to stop being like this once i become your girlfriend." you mumbled.

he shook his head with a smirk. "hmm, i don't think so."

"rea- really?"

he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "yes," he murmured. then, his arms wrapped around you. "come closer."

you scooted closer to him, your heart pounding as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a series of soft, gentle kisses. slowly, the kisses deepened, his hands sliding to your waist.

your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as his lips trailed down your jawline, every touch of his lips on your skin made you shiver.

breathless, ni-ki paused, his lips hovering over yours.

"you're hard." you said.

he kissed you again, deeply before pulling away slightly. "it's okay."

"but i want to..." you whispered against his lips. ni-ki smiled, reaching down and with a slow, deliberate motion, pulled his pants down, revealing his erection that's pulsing with anticipation.

he felt a rush of heat as your eyes locked onto him, the intensity in your gaze sending shivers down his spine. he reached out, cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

his cock throbbed when he felt your fingers around it, light as feathers, stroking his hard length.

ni-ki's breath hitched as you lowered your head, your lips following the path your fingers had taken. "that's good..." he groaned out as you took him in your mouth. the sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. your head bobbing up and down, gagging each time his cock hit the back of your throat.

he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling tightly in the soft strands causing slight pain you chose to ignore.

"yes, just like that." he managed to gasp, breath catching in his throat while arching into your mouth as the pleasure became overwhelming. ni-ki shuddered, a deep guttural sound escaping him, hips bucking wildly as he came, a hot burst of release flooding your mouth.

cum started to drip in the corner of your mouth, "don't let it out." he said, wiping the remains as he watched you swallowed it like a good girl, your eyes locked on his.

you sat beside him with a smirk playing on your lips. "you're a freak."

ni-ki chuckled at your remark. "for you."

you started making out again, the kiss charged with the afterglow of what had just happened. then you felt his hand slip down, stroking his member, which was already starting to stiffen again.

"you're still hard..."

"i know, right?" ni-ki groaned, looking so needy. "can i put it inside you?"

a/n: the only way i could write these days lol

similar read: Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

fuckboy!ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

マスターリストm.list

[jiexclusive1]

𝜗𝜚⋆ bj- p.jisung

boyfriend!jisung x reader, rough oral sex (male rec.), choking, hair pulling, degradation. slapping (not a lot), hand restraint, slight cum eating, jisung is mean, dacryphilia.

Mdni!

W/c- 2k

──── ──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You and Jisung were seen to be the cutest couple out of the friend group.

You both had a fight earlier that day, but when boys had invited you both over because Mark was having trouble with his girlfriend and needed a group meeting to figure everything out. Jisung thought it would be a good idea to put a pause on the situation.

You two shared so many cute moments together, acting extra clingy in front of all your friends, so it was weird to see you both on the opposite ends of the room acting cold towards each other. For instance, every time Jisung would say something, you would interrupt with a passive aggressive, back handed comment.

"Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?" Jisung told mark.

"You do love that word." You responded under your breath, just enough for everyone to hear it.

He ignored it the first time.

"Come on, we're all mature adults here." He spoke up, responding to something Mark had said.

"Debatable." You coughed out.

He turned to you, giving you a warning glance as you lowered your head, clearing your throat.

Jisung responded once more to Mark: "I don't think you two meant to upset each other."

You cleared your throat. "Intentions don't erase consequences, but sure." You said.

Mark and Jisung both looked at you at the same time.

"Yeah, you're right Y/n." Mark spoke, nodding in agreement.

You took the opportunity to make a small face at Jisung, titling your head at him slightly, a small detail he would've missed if he wasn't looking at you so intently.

Mark noticed as well, looking between the both of you. "Are you two ok?" He piped up and asked.

"Yeah we're good. I think we're all just overthinking some things." Jisung responded.

"Some of us more than others." You said lowly, prompting Jisung to turn to you, inching closer with a dark look on his face.

"Listen, you guys can leave if you need to." Mark spoke up.

"No, we're good." Jisung said.

"No actually, I think we should head out." You responded, looking up at him as he stood in front of you.

"Well, I'm not ready to go." Jisung said, looking directly at you, his eyes full of pure darkness.

"Well, then you can find a ride home." You responded, standing up in front of him.

"If you walk out, you're going to regret it later." Jisung spoke harshly, his voice barely above a whisper, only for you to hear.

"Bite me." You whispered, a sly smirk painting your face as you walked past him.

"I'm gonna head out guys, I hope you get everything figured out Mark. Jisung's staying so you'll have his... wise words." You said, glancing back at him.

His face was full of anger as he looked at you, but then, a small smirk appeared on his face as he nodded.

"I'll see you at home." He said, inching closer to you once more, pulling you into a tight hug, his grip on your waist rough.

"See you." You responded, before turning away and walking out.

It was about an hour later, and you were in the bedroom. You heard the front door rattling, then the noise of it slamming, followed up by:

"Y/n, where the fuck are you."

You looked up from your phone, standing up as his heavy footsteps reached the bedroom door. He swung it open, his face painted with a dark expression, knuckles red as if he'd been clutching something tightly.

He didn't pause. He was on you in seconds, crossing the room, his cold hand wrapping around your throat before you could think to move.

You stumbled back, spine hitting the wall with a dull thud, a soft gasp slipping from your lips as his fingers flexed against your skin.

"Do you like making me mad?" He said, his thumb brushing along the delicate skin of your throat.

You didn't answer, just looked at him with glossy eyes, which just made him angrier.

"What, you can't speak now? You had so much to say earlier in front of everyone, now you can't speak?" His grip tightened, just enough to remind you that he could take it away if he wanted to.

Your lips trembled, but you still didn't speak, glossy eyes locked onto his.

His patience snapped..

"Y/n, you're seriously pissing me off." He said, removing his hand from your throat.

"Get on your knees, and I'm not going to ask you again." He spoke, backing away from the wall and examining your movements.

You hesitated for only a second before you obeyed, lowering yourself onto the carpet. The rough fabric rubbed into your bare knees, the friction stinging slightly, but you ignored it, keeping your gaze on him.

"Since you want to use your fucking mouth so much." He murmured to himself, looking to the side, before his gaze fixated on you again.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" His voice was low and impatient

You got the hint. Hands trembling slightly, you reached for the buttons of his jeans, fingers grazing the cool metal as you began to unfasten them, but before you could, his hands shot out, gripping both of your wrists in a firm hold.

A startled breath escaped you as he yanked them together, lifting them slightly into the air, keeping you trapped in place.

He tilted his head, amusement in his gaze as he studied your reaction.

"You like to run your mouth so much. So use it, take them off." He replied, looking at you with a sly smirk.

"Ji—" You barely managed to whisper his name before he cut you off.

"I'm not going to tell you again." His grip on your wrists tightened just enough to make his point, his smirk deepening.

You leaned in, gripping the edge of the fabric between your teeth, tugging firmly. Your tongue pressed against the button, working it free from the hole with a slow motion.

You ran your tongue along the top of the zipper, trailing downward. The fabric of his underwear brushed against your tongue as you moved, heat radiating through the material as you licked over his clothed bulge.

"Pull them down with your teeth, I want to see it." He said, watching you intently.

You bit into the edge of the jeans, moving your head slowly to pull them down. Your hands stretched above your head as his grip tightened on your wrist. You looked up at him, silently awaiting his next command.

"What, are you stupid?" His voice was sharp. "Pull my underwear down."

"Ji, can I please use my hands?" You asked, your voice soft, almost pleading.

"No." He replied quickly. "Now shut up and pull them down."

You teased along the waistband of his underwear with your tongue, catching the fabric gently between your teeth before tugging it down.

"You know what to do." He said, his voice low.

You moved your head, licking a slow line from his base to his tip, drawing a sharp exhale from him.

"Stop teasing." He warned, his grip tightening around your wrist, the pressure causing a hint of discomfort.

You obeyed instantly, wrapping your lips around his sensitive tip, cheeks hollowing as his breathing grew heavier.

You lowered your head along his dick, taking him deeper as his breath hitched, a heavy exhale slipping past his lips. His eyes darkened, focused intently on the way your lips stretched and glistened around him.

"Is that the best you can do without your hands? Pathetic." He murmured with a taunting sigh. Before you had time to react, he bucked his hips unexpectedly, pushing himself deeper. The sudden motion caught you off guard, forcing you to pull back with a choked gasp, coughing as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Look at you, choking already, and I barely put it in. Such a useless slut." He groaned, his voice rough.

You lifted your gaze defiantly. "You just caught me off guard." You shot back, though the instant the words left your mouth, regret settled.

His expression darkened, lips curling into a smirk. "Oh yeah?" He challenged, tugging your arms upward, making your shoulders strain slightly from the sudden pressure.

Before you could respond, his free hand gripped your face, fingers pressing firmly into your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker.

"Then do it correctly, or I'll do it for you." He scoffed.

You took him back into your mouth, moving roughly. It was definitely harder without using your hands, but you managed to maintain your rhythm. That is, until Jisung shifted forward again, his hips thrusting deeply into your mouth, catching you off guard.

You jolted back, gasping for breath, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain composure. His sharp gaze pierced through you, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.

"You're so fucking annoying." He spoke, the words laced with contempt.

Before you had a chance to react, he released your wrists, only for his hands to swiftly find the back of your head. His grip was firm as he pushed you back down.

Your eyes widened in surprise from the sudden contact, your breath catching in your throat. The way he hit the back of your throat so quickly left you breathless, the intensity making your hands instinctively grasp at his thighs for support.

A wave of heat spread through you, and you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. The pressure built, and you could feel the pulse in his muscles beneath your fingers as you held on, desperately trying to steady yourself.

Fuck like that." He groaned, his fingers gripping your hair tighter, pulling you in closer as he thrust into your mouth with increasing force. His breath hitched as his control slipped away, each movement more urgent than the last.

Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with each harsh thrust. The sensation of him filling your mouth made you gag, the sounds muffled as you desperately tried to breathe. Drool leaked from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin.

"Fuck, tighten the back of your throat Y/n." He groaned through gritted teeth, his voice thick with lust. His grip on your hair tightened painfully, fingers digging into your scalp as he yanked you forward, forcing you to take him deeper with each rough pull.

You blinked rapidly, your eyes stinging as your eye makeup blurred from your tears, streaking down your face. Jisung didn't care, in fact, it only turned him on more. His pleasure growing with every sign of your discomfort.

"Such a whore." He panted, his voice rough and breathless as his tip collided with the back of your throat.

You moaned as his dick filled your mouth, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming you in a way that turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

“Bet this turns you on, doesn't it? Being used like this. Like a little slut.” He taunted, his voice low.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to hold onto control, but the louder and more intense the sounds of him hitting your throat became, the harder it was.

“This dirty little fucking mouth.” He groaned, his breath heavy with desire. “Gonna fill it up with all my cum.” He whimpered out, head falling back in pleasure as the intensity of it all hit him.

With a few more rough thrusts, you felt him twitch deep at the back of your throat. A loud cry escaped him, his body tensing as he reached his high. Moments later, you felt his warm liquid in your mouth.

He slowly withdrew from your mouth, a trail of his cum dripping down your chin.

He paused for a moment, staring at you with a look of satisfaction in his eyes, before raising his hand to give your cheek two soft slaps. Without another word, he pulled up his pants and underwear, his eyes lingering on you for a brief second before he turned and walked out of the room.

Left alone, you were still kneeling on the floor, your throat sore, your head throbbing, and your hair tangled.

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[nemesyaaa]

western nights // mean!S2!barry x kook!reader x s2!rafe

summary ; /

warnings ; mentions and using of drugs. kinda violence. barry doesn't give a shit about pogue/kook thing. threesome(mxmxf/switch). smut without real plot. shotgunning (smoking). choking. double p in v. boys kissing (if you see that challengers reference, no you don't.), oral (f&m receiving.). scars mentions. threats.(3k words.). be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i want rafe and barry back as a chaotic duo for S4 part 2, please. it's a threat, not a request. im watching you obx screenwriters.

“someone you know very well owes me money.”

you looked up from your line of cocaine in a loud snort, before sitting comfortably on the bed while rubbing your nose to clean it quickly.

"and how does that concern me barry? you have your business, i have mine. and by the way, are you stalking my clients because you're losing yours ? ”

“ you’re such a fucking ungrateful princess. let me remind you that it’s because of me that you even have a business in the first place. you were nobody before i helped you, it doesn’t matter how much of a kook you are in this business.”

"wow.. someone’s got an attitude. it's not my fault your boy chose me over you.”

"yeah, he’s gonna regret that when you fuck him over."

“and why would i do that?”

he approached you, a big blunt falling out of his lips, before leaning toward you, made you feel quietly small. a short breath escaped your throat while you shivered. a smile with a wicked expression on his eyes showed on his face. “ still afraid of me. why ? it’s been a long time since i’ve had to put you in your place. you still got that scar? ” with a sick, softened voice, he added just over your lips. “that expensive makeup covers it up real good.”

“ what do you want, barry ? ”

in the intimacy of silence between the two of you, he pressed a thumb in the corner of your lips, letting his finger open it a little wider, before pulling out and blowing smoke directly into your mouth, letting your tongue disappear on the shot.

you scoffed, before your throat had swallowed the smoke. “ i want my money. and you're gonna do what i ask you. ”

“ and if i don’t ? ”

“ you don’t have much of a choice actually.”

barry placed himself above you, more threatening than when he welcomed you into his home. you placed a hand on his chest before responding calmly. “ don't be mad at me. it's your own fault you decided to trust him. why are you giving him free shit? you know he can afford it. and don’t give any of that ‘he said he’ll bring the money next time’ bullshit, when has rafe cameron ever been trustworthy?”

“ y/n. don’t start shit you can’t finish. ” he warned.

"what do you want me to do? you have a gun, and no reputation to preserve, if you want to shoot him, he's all yours. don't involve me in this. i'm having a good relationship with my client, do not mess it up. "

“do you think it’s that easy, princess?” he laughed nervously. "obviously. you really think I can get away with taking out Rafe Cameron?”

"i just think if you really wanted to, you would. Since when does Rafe scare you anyway? "

"i had a little disagreement with ward. it’ll just be easier if you handle it."

“what do i gain from all this?”

“It’s your choice. But we’ll talk about it when we’re out of this situation.”

you sighed. the next day, you invited rafe cameron to your house. like every time you called him, he came back.

“ so, where’s the coke ? ” he asked. “ tell me you have something for me. ”

"obviously I do, I'm a dealer, what did you expect ? But do I have any for you ? that's another question. ” you frowned. your gaze was on his beaten puppy face, his eyes were glinting, completely desperate, and his voice was almost pleading and nervous. “ i think i’ve been too nice to you, rafe. maybe i should be mean for once. look at this scar you have, should i give you another one? because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t behave. ”

“I’m begging you, please. i'm gonna pay you back.”

"begging already? wow. tell me why i should believe you’re pay me back?”

“ just trust me. you know i have money, i just have to get it.”

“ i have no reason to trust you. “ you shook your head with a tsk tsk that meant you didn’t believe him. he was a pathological liar, it was in his nature to save his ass with lies.

you laughed in frustration, making him raise an eyebrow. "you’re gonna pay me back, huh? I’m not even the only person you owe money to. is this about what we did last time?”

“If i can recall, you were enjoying yourself just fine.” he cut in.

"rafe. you have nothing to offer me. to tell you the truth, if I really needed money, there are ways I can get it. So whatever is going on here, it’s not fair because you’re getting something out of it and I’m not.”

"I told you, I’m gonna pay you back, just please, give it to me. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

"We’re going to try this another way. I’ll see you tomorrow and if you have the money you owe us then you’re good. And I’ll take care of you again.”

you kicked him out of your house. the next day, he showed up in your room as you were coming out of your shower. you planned to procrastinate all day before he stormed off like crazy.

"What are you doing? You think you can show up here like this?”

“I have your fucking money. now, i want my coke. i did what you wanted me to do ! ”

you smiled, while giving a pat on his curtain bangs. “ good job, pretty boy. ”

“where’s the coke? give it to me. ”

“i don’t have any.” you replied.

rafe laughed, a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. he took a few steps towards you, pushing you against the wall.

“rafe?”

“where’s the fucking coke? ”

“dude, are you high?” you asked, suddenly unwell by the rising tension you can't feel through the air. “ i just tol...”

he was mad, more than that, frustrated. the way you played with his feelings, you were making him go around in circles. and his hands began to irritate him, to make him wickedly agitated. which meant that he was gradually losing control because you were showing that it was you who had the power. he was just asking for drugs, only a little. it was such a small ask in his eyes, just a fucking line how you gave him some every time he came. like a child's whim, you couldn't take away from him what you had always given him. from his point of view, it was not okay.

and the thing was, you were doing it just now. he felt a horrible chaos inside him which made him spiral. his hands fell terribly on your throat, fingers wrapping in tight around you like a collar.

"i just asked you a question. and you better hope your answer is what i want to hear, because if it’s not this isn’t gonna be fun for you.” he whispered, his lips softly ghosting over yours.

“you’re scaring me….rafe ”

“ good, maybe now you’ll show me some fucking respect.”

he grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to bend your knees so that you were at his feet. you coughed, and he responded with a smirk.

“i don’t have your fucking coke. "

“but you know what, that’s not fair. i held up my end of the deal, o got your money and you don’t have my coke.”

he slipped each of the bills against your tongue down to the exact amount he owed you, forcing your mouth to stay open.

"not having so much fun now, huh?”

“ what a great surprise, my two favorite people in the same place. " had commented a voice behind the kook.

it was barry. you and rafe both shivered. at the same time.

“what the hell is this ?” rafe replied.

“relax country club, i didn’t come to give you a hard time. ”

“so why are you here ?” Rafe replied.

you spat the money back into your mouth and barry came closer to you.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you replied.

"so you're stealing my clients, you're taking my money and what more, you're lying to me?" barry had wisely articulated.

“wait, what do you mean?”

“shut up, rafe.”

“barry, it’s not what you think.”

"that's exactly what i believe. but you know what I believe even more? is that you need to be taught a fucking lesson.yeah, spoiled, rich girls like you need to learn that they can't play with everyone. come on, country club. ”

“barry.” you started. " listen..."

"I would love to listen to you, princess but I'm going to have a hard time doing once i fill that pretty mouth with my cock."

“what?” you retorted.

" oh you know, i'm in a grear mood. you seem to really enjoy playing with people around you. guess today, it's just my turn to play. i'm also thinking we should invite rafe to this game. would be fair actually. will princess be able to say sorry after being her nasty mouth being fucked to death ? ” replied barry by pulling you by the side of your face, hair caged in his grip, making you gasp.

“ pretty sure, bitch like her can. ”

" you're too high to even know where you put your dick. ” you said.

“ very funny. ”he laughed in a sarcastic way, before pulling his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach, following his movement by plunging it straight into your mouth, one hand with rings covering your throat, pressed tightly his fingers against the back of your neck. “still funny?” he continued as he pushed himself even deeper, feeling his dick deep down in the inside of your pleasing mouth widening around him. “ can't even answer now. ”

Barry smiled before undressing his pants, guiding your hand to his own cock. you quickly got the hang of it, starting to masturbate him, your free hand circled around his full length stroking back and forth, all the while having rafe’s thick length, lodged hard in your throat.

your fist was wrapped around barry’s cock, fingers tightening and sliding around his girth quickly while rafe was buried completely inside your mouth, fucking you faster on the tongue. you already started to get soaked on the inside of your thighs, the wet forming a damp spot on the fabric of your underwear.

both boys stood in front of you, above your kneeling position while you were at their commands. barry invited himself into your mouth, his cock next to rafe's hitting your dripping, sloppy tongue. their two dicks were working your throat at the same time, same pace as your muscle rolled over the two shafts that stretched you open. you could feel the weight of their lengths filling your stuffed mouth. your face was weeping with spit and saliva.

you grabbed their cocks with your free hands, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your fingers, their grunts hovering in the room.

your mouth was completely blocked by the growing size of their dick. rafe smeared all the drool from your mouth on your face, before spitting on your tongue, followed by barry. you touched them both while continuing to deepthroat the two boys. you let your tongue run on the veiny flesh of their dick, trailing your wet muscle around their veins, followed by balls lapping. your received both of their cocks so well like you were always made for this. you coughed several times, letting a trickle of saliva slip from your jaw. they both pulled out, before slapping their cocks on your drooling cheeks. your face was pressed with tears, running down your skin to the floor.

“don’t be lazy, open your legs. ” ordered rafe.

you had spread your thighs, leaving them with a full view of your glistening pussy. “ but look at you, already so wet, soaking like a mess when neither rafe or me already touched you. ” barry mocked.

rafe pushed your glossy lips apart with two fingers making you suck on them, stuffing you full in the mouth to the throat and barry found a place between your legs, and trailed his tongue against your folds filled with wetness that poured over his face.

he traced your clit, before eating out your hole that was pulsing against his messy mouth, the way his tongue licked your slit, slurping in and out, before circling your beating clit. his lips were wrapped around you, dirty lapping your cunt as rafe taking his thick fingers deeper in your throat to the point you choked on them. he cleaned them with his own mouth, before diving his thumb in your lips. the corner of your mouth were foaming as he roughly brushed his digits inside your cavity, two fingers fucking your tongue and throat, as barry widly sucking your cunt. your taste were flowing and he keeping it before kissing you slowly, let in drip back in your mouth.

“ do not swallow it. i bet country club wants a taste of you…” he commented, through the kiss.

without swallowing, you kissed rafe, moving your lips against his and released your tongue over his own. you were over the moon, both of them kissing you, tongue mixed with streams of saliva, and nasty spits.

you placed your hand through your slit, before pushing your fingers against rafe's mouth, forcing him to open wider while you do the same with your other hand with barry's mouth, feeding the two boys with your juice flowing around their hanged jaw. you rushed your digits further in their throat, as they gasped around them. you were so turned on, the way they were literally drooling like dogs over your hands was making you feel insane.

you slowly pulled out your hands as their faces got closer to each other, while watching them kissing through your dirty fingers. you watched them with a twisted smile, as rafe hand reached the throat of barry, his thumb running over his cheek. your gaze was focused on them, and your ears filled with the wet and horny sound of them licking each other. that was hot, and you hated how hot it was. “ are you gonna fuck or should i do it all the work myself ? ”

“ want to be fucked so bad ? ” cutted rafe.

“ is my legs open enough for you, rafe ? ” you said, teasing him flirty.

“ she's really asking for it. ” answered barry.

“ which one's gonna fuck me first ? ”

they both laughed at you as you said something very funny. you raised an eyebrow.

“ you're gonna take us.”

“ it's not gonna fit. ”

“ it's gonna fit. because that pussy is tired of being tight. ”

when they started fucking you it made the heat rise inside you. your whole body was horribly hot, their two cocks were both pressed and stuck in the same hole. you gripped the sheets with your fist, while they stretched your weeping pussy over and over, shoving every inch of their cocks into your soaking pussy. your head was spinning as you lost yourself completely, your flesh smushed onto the mattress. both wrecked your canal, and hitting every one of your spots. you felt strange spasms, a mixture of pleasure and pain as you trembl d and moaned under their thrusts.

“ don't fucking cry, you're the one who wanted those cocks inside you. was too mean to do what your pussy begged for ? too late. neither rafe nor i are going to stop. ” shouted barry while ramming his hips against you in a brutal stroke, making you whine harder.

“ pl-please…”

“ the only thing you need to “ please please ” is for us to fuck you even harder. ” continued the curtain bangs one with a sick smile around his lips.

rafe shutted you cries with a rough snap of his hips, his firm body slammed into yours, while barry next to him, pounded you in the same raw way. his hair was messy as yours, unbrushed and bouncing against his shoulders, as the air became more hotter. you were crying and panting for breath like a crybaby, tits swaying while your vision was getting blurred.

the kook one grabbed your face, hollowing your cheeks with his fingers, before spitting in your open mouth, watching his globe of saliva dripping from your glossy lips. inspired, barry spat on rafe's mouth, forbid him to swallow with his hand brushed on his partner jaw before letting the spit drooling over your mouth.

the pace sped up, as your pussy squeezed them like a vice, the room filled with the wet smacking sounds of your core getting speared roughly. they were fucking you deeply, your cunt dripping around them as they thrusted into you back and forth, all spots getting touch.

next position, you were bouncing on rafe's dick, big hand tugged on your hips, your ass jiggling against and slamming into his large spreaded thighs, as barry letting you suck on his dick. you were giddy, feeling overheated, messing everywhere on both of them. they were working on each part of your body, the overstimulation draining you.

“ suck it well, pretty thing.” he grabbed your jaw, his glare locked into your teary eyes. “ don't forget that you have still another free hole. and trust me, you don't want two cocks in. ”

your mouth found barry's cock, tongue out and wrapped around his crazy shaft, as you slowly pushed your muscle above his tip. you were now used to it, and sucked it directly to the throat, you spitting on it before licking to feel the size hitting the deep of your neck. you were like a dizzy free-use doll that were fucked to heaven.

you placed the dick of barry between your swayed tits that was unstoppable because of rafe's hard strokes on your sloppy cunt. your cunt that was actually filled by his large cock. before starting to pump the dealer with your boobs, you caged the painful boner in the middle of your breasts, and pressed them to the bulging girth before moving up and down quickly. when you heard his raspy grunts near your ears, his mouth and breath brushed your sensitive skin, you accelerated the pace, leaving him growling speechless.

few minutes later, he came around your neck, painting your flesh with white loads. rafe released his cum in you five minutes after, while kissing you, swallowing every breath of yours.

you fell on your back, completely exhausted. “ you guys…are crazy…”

“ just the beginning. ”

[karinab00bs]

Vacation

Karina x named reader

tags: smut, first crush, swearing, pool sex, rough sex, blow jobs, teasing, flirting, dirty talks, dirty jokes, dirty thoughts, hair-pulling, biting, begging

Karina hadn’t anticipated the long journey to visit her parents, who lived quite a distance away from her current work and living situation. However, seizing the opportunity of a rare two-week break, she arrived at their doorstep, suitcase in hand, greeted by the warm sun above. The familiarity of her childhood home flooded back as she climbed out of the taxi.

Deciding against informing her parents of her arrival, Karina didn’t want to inconvenience them if her holiday plans fell through last minute.

Her father's joyful face upon opening the door made the trip instantly worth it, enveloping her in a bear hug and leading her inside.

"Why didn’t you tell us you were coming!?" he exclaimed happily, guiding her to the kitchen where her mother was busy cooking.

Their much-awaited reunion was interrupted by a knock at the door just as they settled down for dinner.

“I’ll get it,” her mother insisted, giving Karina a quick squeeze before heading to the door.

“So pumpkin,” her father started, looking a bit disappointed, unable to resist using the old nickname.

“Your mother and I had booked to go away tomorrow, for our anniversary. But if you want us to cancel, we will,” he offered, but Karina quickly stopped him, not wanting them to change their plans for her.

“Don’t you dare cancel that! We can celebrate when you guys get back. I do have two weeks off,” she reassured her dad, who visibly relaxed.

Before he could respond, her mother returned with a man Karina didn't recognize at first. Then it hit her, that is her childhood friend.

“Karina, honey, you remember Ethan,” her mother smiled, introducing Ethan as he stepped forward, all charm and green eyes.

Suppressing her smile, Karina shook his hand, noticing the size of his hands with a silent observation. “Ethan Lee, right?”

“Right,” he confirmed, maintaining his hold on her hand. She watched as his tongue swiped across his lips, unable to look away.

Finally releasing her hand, Ethan cleared his throat and turned his attention to her father. “I was just coming over to ask if you wouldn’t mind me doing the pool tomorrow, rather than next week,” he asked respectfully. As Karina’s mother handed him a drink, he thanked her before returning his gaze to her father.

“Of course. Is everything okay?” her father inquired, still engrossed in his meal as Karina resumed her seat, observing the exchange.

“Yes, sir. Just made some plans for Sammy’s birthday; he’s back in town for the next few months,” Ethan explained proudly, giving her a subtle wink as he caught her watching him.

“Yes, all fine with me, but we won’t be here so you’ll be dealing with Karina here,” her dad remarked with a roll of his eyes. Karina playfully slapped his arm when he chuckled, unable to suppress the nostalgic smile that crept onto her lips. His deep chuckle reminded her of her childhood.

“I’m sure I can handle her,” Ethan grinned directly at her, while her mother distracted her father.

“We’ll see, Lee,” Karina smirked, swiftly changing the subject to avoid losing her composure.

”So, how is Sam anyway?” Karina inquired, turning in her seat to look up at him where he stood.

“He’s good, not so little anymore. Got a fiance and he’s a lawyer,” Ethan informed her proudly as she stood by the kitchen counter, refilling her drink.

“Always thought the two of you would end up together,” Ethan revealed, completely confusing her.

Hearing her mother laugh, Karina's eyes widened. “Oh no, this one here had a thing for his b-” her mother stopped abruptly, noticing Karina's flushed face and the way she was looking at her.

Before her mother could say anything else that Karina would regret ever telling her, she led Ethan to the front door, he laughed, willingly following her. That is until they reached the door frame; he stopped, turning to look down at her.

“So best friend, or big brother?” he smirked, his green eyes practically sparkling. Karina thought to herself, cocky son of a bitch.

“See you tomorrow, pool boy.”

“Are you gonna come keep me company, while I do a favor for your parents?” he asked cheekily, throwing an arm above his head to lean against the door frame.

“I might,” Karina shrugged off her answer, wishing that he didn’t still have this insane effect on her after all of these years, but she tried not to let him get to her.

“Wait, you mean that’s not your only job?” Karina asked mockingly. Ethan smirked when she stepped closer, shaking his head at her.

“Nope,” he winked, popping the 'p'.

“My job, my real job, involves me getting a lot dirtier,” he revealed, licking his lips when he noticed her staring. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the heat of his chest against hers.

“I’m a mechanic, sweetheart,” he added at her confused expression, and okay god, it got worse.

“R-Right, yeah. Makes sense,” she stuttered, and there were the nerves she remembered so well.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, sugar.”

“Yeah, sure,” Karina replied quietly, watching him walk away. He headed over to the car parked in the drive, the one that used to be his dad's.

Closing the door, Karina turned to find her mother behind her, quickly noticing just how sheepish she looked.

“I’m so sorry, baby! I completely forgot!” her mother rushed to explain, and all Karina could do was laugh it off.

“Stop it! I swear, it’s all fine! A little embarrassing admittedly, but still, it’s okay,” she assured her, pulling her into a hug. Her mother quickly relaxed against her, wrapping her in her arms.

She pulled back with a watery smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back, baby, we really missed you,” smiling, she cupped Karina's cheeks, like she was trying to memorize her face.

“I know, mom, let’s go eat.”

The night passed quickly, talk of the old days and how Karina was considering coming back home. Before she knew it, she was waving them away, watching the taxi disappear.

She looked at the time, swearing under her breath. Her dad had told her Ethan would be over in the next hour, and she really wanted a bath before he got here.

Taking a longer bath than she meant to, Karina left herself only ten minutes to slip into her new red bikini and shorts.

It was so hot outside, and she was determined to drive him crazy. He wanted to be all sexy; two could play at that game. She’d put up with it enough when she was younger, having a somewhat filthy crush on her best friend’s big brother was definitely not ideal.

She just about heard the knock at the door, which was quickly followed by the unmistakable noise of the doorbell. Heading downstairs after a quick glance in the mirror, taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

“Mornin’ Karina,” he winked, giving her an appreciative once over before walking past her into the house.

Closing the door behind him, Karina frowned.

“Really, Ethan, jeans? You are cleaning the pool, right? So why not wear shorts?” she questioned as she followed him into the back garden.

“I don’t do shorts, sweetheart. Why? Do you wanna see some more skin or somethin’?” he asked suggestively, unlocking the shed to get the things he needed. She didn’t see his face, but she was sure he was smirking to himself.

She scoffed at him, moving aside as he began pulling things out of the shed.

“No. I just wondered, it’s so damn hot today. Seems kinda odd weather for that,” she stated, nodding at his attire, brushing it off as easily as she could.

“Well, something is definitely hot” he grins, eyeing her shamelessly as he pulls off his shirt, hanging it on the back of the chair. “There, better?” he asks knowingly, a smug look on his face when Karina choke back a moan, almost swallowing her own tongue.

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he locks the shed door, leaving her to stare at his back.

The sunlight bounces off his tanned skin as he walks over to the pool with the equipment, and Karina realise that she never seen someone with so many muscles in their back. She can just imagine dragging your nails down it as he–

Karina manage to stop that train of thought before it gets out of hand. But she can’t stop herself from watching the very slight swing of his hips, how those jeans fit so snugly against his toned ass and legs, sitting perfectly on his hips.

All she can do is watch him walk away. Safe to say he gives as good as he gets.

Slightly bewildered, Karina follow him after a moment longer of staring, taking her seat on the sun lounger by the pool. She watch him work closely, seeing those muscles visibly rolling under his skin. He seems to be biting on his tongue as he concentrates on the job at hand. Something particularly stubborn makes his jaw tense.

Karina slip out of your shorts easily, letting them fall to the floor, she lay back, deciding to at least try and relax while Ethan works.

It wasn’t like she could stare at him all day, right?

A little while passes, the sun beating down on her is much needed. However, Karina’s sunbathing is interrupted by a large shadow, which completely blankets her body. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand you open them, quickly meeting Ethan’s.

“You should probably put this on sweetheart.” He instructs firmly, holding out the sun cream to her.

Karina can’t help but notice the sweat that coats his skin, glistening in the sun, she pause reaching for the bottle with an idea in mind.

“Is that an offer, Lee?” Karina question sweetly as possible, crossing her legs at the knees as she run her fingers from the top of her thigh to her knee, acutely aware of the way his eyes are taking in her body.

He shrugs with a smug look on his face, “Sure, we can’t have you burning can we,”

Karina hum in approval rolling onto her front, she rest her head on her folded arms. Turning her head to watch as Ethan's kneels beside you.

“Such a gentleman.” Karina reply sarcastically, smiling against her arm when he chuckles.

The second his cream covered warm hands touch her skin goosebumps cover her body, she bite back a moan, a little unsuccessfully when his thumbs press into the muscles of her shoulders and around her shoulder blades. Pushing under the strap of Karina’s bikini top, where he’s so close to brushing the sides of her breasts.

Ethan's hands are so big, as they rub the cream into Karina’s skin it doesn’t take him long to reach the bottom of her spine.

Karina arch back into his touch even more, when his thumbs push just under the top of her swimming bottoms, fingers curling around the front of her hips, digging in but not quite the same way. After a few minutes he continues down her body, his touch remaining firm as he quickly does just under Karina’s ass cheeks. Spreading her legs a little as his hands move down her thighs, the perfect amount of pressure against every muscle.

Karina knows that she’s wet, this is without doubt the best massage she’s ever had and very unexpected, god she hope he can’t see it.

“Fuck.” Karina hear him grit out quietly, as his hands move down her calves.

Gently he taps Karina's ankle and clears his throat.

“Turn over, I’ll do the front.” Ethan rasps out, voice breaking a little with each word.

Swallowing hard, Karina as nervous as hell, but there is no way she's backing out now. He’d started this, she's weren’t about to stop him if he wanted to finish it.

Closing her eyes she turn onto her back, shielding her eyes with her arm.

Ethan starts on Karina's legs, the higher his hands get, the more her muscles tense and her pussy starts to flutter. His hands run along the line of her swimming pants, right in the crease of her groin.

The moan that slips past Karina's lips couldn’t have been stopped if she'd tried, she feel the wood creak beneath her as Ethan climbs between her legs on the sun lounger. His calloused hands rubbing cream into Karina’s stomach, fingertips slipping beneath the cups of her bikini top, running along the underside of her breasts.

Ethan leans over her further, and Karina feel his hard cock brush against her thigh as he takes her arms, rubbing the cream in. Karina finally dare to blink open her eyes, the wild beating of her heart and the blood rushing in her ears are unbearable.

Biting into her lip when her eyes meet his again, Karina watch him squirt more cream onto his palms, before placing the bottle on the table.

Ethan's hands move over Karina's chest slowly, pushing the straps down her shoulders, she tilt her head back when he rubs the cream into her neck, his hand resting on her throat as he leans in closer.

“Ain’t even been swimmin’ yet and your panties are soaked.” Ethan groans, moving in closer still, but she stop him before he gets too close, resting her hand on his bare chest.

Pushing him back gently, watching the way he sits back on his feet, eyes completely focused on her as she sit up. Karina slip out from beneath him, smiling at the look on his face.

“Better make sure you’ve done your job properly.” Karina smile seductively, loving the way he watches her as she make her way over to the pool.

When Karina reach the steps she turn to find him standing from the sun lounger. Clearing his throat he rearranges himself in his jeans, but the thick line of his cock is still clearly visible, he quickly focuses those green eyes back on her.

“You coming, pool boy?” Karina ask cheekily, as she lower yourself into the cool water, watching the smirk that appears on his plump lips.

“You remember that I’m older than you, right? More like the pool man,” Ethan quips, undoing his belt and leather slaps against leather. Leaning against the pool’s edge as Karina's chin resting on her arms and she look up at him.

Just in time to watch him pop the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper.

“Guess you’ve got me there. So, since you don’t like shorts, are you wearing boxers?” Karina ask curiously, trying but failing to hide her smile.

Ethan laughs at that, dropping his jeans and pulling them off his legs, “Normally you would’ve been right, but on this occasion” he leaves the reply hanging in the air. Letting Karina's eyes drop with his jeans, she couldn’t even be disappointed that he was still wearing boxers. Not since the sizeable bulge was still very much present and accounted for, even more visible in the thin fabric.

Sitting down on the side of the pool Ethan's legs dangle in the water, his ass right on the very edge. Karina swimming over to him and stand between his open legs. Looking up at his face as she rest her hands on his thick thighs.

“So what’s the verdict sweetheart, did I do a good enough job?” Ethan questions leaning back on his hands, grunting in surprise when Karina’s breasts brush against the bulge in Ethan pants.

“Not too bad, for a part timer.” Karina giggle watching the comical eye roll he gives her. The image of him in overalls and covered in grease hits her. Karina almost certain he would look even better dirty than he does clean, which is saying something.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing just how good you are at your real job though, see how dirty you get.” Karina reveal, chewing on her bottom lip as her hands slip into the legs of Ethan boxers. Ethan hisses at the sting of the pain, when her nails sink into the tops of his thighs, his rock hard length laying untouched between them.

“You should come down the garage some time, I’ll show you just how dirty I get” Ethan grunts through gritted teeth.

Licking her lips, Karina hum appreciatively, “I’d really like that.” She admit, dragging her nails back down Ethan's thighs, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. Leaning up against the pool’s side on her elbows, Karina tuck her fingers into the sides of his boxer shorts.

Ethan seems to be nervous as he looks around the garden, like he’s expecting someone to pop out.

“Everything okay, Ethan? You look nervous.” Karina acknowledge cheekily, as he debates lifting his ass for literally a second, seeming to ignore any doubts he has he finally lets her tug the boxers down, over his ass and down those strong bow legs.

Karina watch Ethan's Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he glances around one more time. Then he focuses back on her, as her small hand wraps around his cock. That perfect green of his eyes has almost completely been swallowed by the black of his pupils when his eyes meet hers again.

Ethan shifts where he sits, trying to wiggle closer to Karina when she start to move her hand up and down his thick length. Karina other hand rests on his strong thigh, helping her keep her balance. Karina lean forward, licking her lips, hearing Ethan swear under his breath when her lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock. Running her tongue over his slit, moaning when the taste of his pre-come hits her tongue for the first time.

“Fuck, sweetheart that’s it,” Ethan groans, tossing his head back, hand fisting in Karina's hair as she take him further into her mouth, Karina's tongue pressing to the underside of his cock.

Karina love the way his hand tightens in her hair, short nails that dig into her scalp.

Karina's hands are now resting on both his thighs, as his cock bumps against the back of her throat. Ethan thrusts his hips, letting himself go a little, she watch him, almost positive there has never been a sexier sight in the world. The speed in which he snaps his hips causes her to gag a little. But even after his surprised gasp, Karina continue when his hips stop moving, letting her take the control back.

Karina continue to take him as deep as she can, saliva leaking from the corners of her lips. Nails sinking into his thighs when she swallow around his cock. Then it slips into her throat briefly and Ethan can’t stop the choked out whine that slips past his perfect lips at her actions.

Ethan's tugging on Karina's hair becomes more insistent, she finally relent, gasping for air when his cock is popped from between her lips, smacking back against his stomach.

Karina's pussy is still throbbing almost painfully, she look up at him and lick her lips, with her most seductive smile she step back, further into the pool, beckoning him towards her with a single finger.

Taking a moment to catch his breath he watches her, reminding her somewhat of a tiger ready to pounce on their meal.

Then all the air gets stuck in Karina's throat and she have to fight not to choke on it, when Ethan slips into the pool, skin still slick with sweat and he looks like a male model. He’s fucking stunning, slipping beneath the water briefly, he reemerges, running a hand through his now dripping wet hair as he walks towards her slowly, Karina suddenly not sure if she even remember how to speak.

The confidence from before is slipping and she sure that he can see it, which is made clearer when the corner of his mouth curves into a half smirk. Clearly someone catching the two of them was the last thing he was worried about now.

Crowding Karina back against the pool’s edge, Ethan presses himself close to her, resting a hand on the edge behind her, while his other hand tucks some wayward hair behind her ear.

Leaning in closer his nose nudges hers, hot breath fanning across Karina's lips, and she finally manage to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How’re you still so nervous about kissing me, sweetheart? With what this perfect little mouth just did, felt fuckin’ incredible wrapped around my cock”

Ethan pauses to let his thumb brush over Karina's parted lips, she lick her lips as his hand moves down slowly and he captures her chin. “I still remember that time at that end of year house party, the one which you and Sammy snuck into” he smirks, causing her to suck in a breath when his free hand grips her ass roughly, pulling her closer to him.

Karina blushed like crazy at the mention of that night, “You were drunk off your ass Ethan, I didn’t b-” Karina cut off by Ethan plump lips pressing against hers in a demanding kiss, his big hand cups her neck, thumb pressing into her jaw as he angles her head right were he wants it.

It takes her mind a moment to catch up with her body but she finally breathe, relaxing into the kiss. Ethan's free hand moves behind Karina's back, tugging the ties of her bikini top until it falls loose and Ethan tosses it away. Moving those big warm hands down Karina's body Ethan cups her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his rough fingers and thumbs.

Karina's lips part at the same time as Ethan's, her tongues effortlessly moving together. As Ethan pulls back she capture his bottom lip between her teeth, delighting in the groan that bubbles up in his throat. He doesn’t stop there, kissing and nipping his way down her neck, sucking marks into her soft skin.

“You believe me now?” He all but growls against her ear, she nod quickly, tugging at the strings of her bikini bottoms, pulling them loose.

Ethan pulls away from Karina's neck, finally meeting her eyes again, his wet hair spiked up in all sorts of directions from the pair of her carding her hands through it. Water still clings to his eyelashes, dropping from the tip of his nose, water droplets rolling down his chest distracting her a little.

“Yes Ethan, I believe you.” Karina answer obediently, taking his hand and positioning it between her own thighs.

Ethan looks down the very small gap remaining between the two of them, sliding two fingers between Karina's folds, she grab at his shoulders when those fingers push inside her. Karina's walls stretch around his fingers, one of her hands falls from his shoulder, dropping beneath the water she wrap her small fingers around his thick cock.

Karina's forehead drops against his, panting breaths begin to mix together. Hitching a leg over his hip Karina rock against his fingers, feeling his cock pressing into her thigh.

“You want my cock in your pretty pussy baby? You wanna fuck the pool guy, like a dirty little girl?”

“Jesus Ethan,” Karina moan as his filthy words wash over her. No guy had ever spoken to Karina like this before and there was no denying that she were loving it, but she don’t have a clue about how to respond to him. “Not so worried about the neighbours seeing us now then?” Karina question breathlessly, as Ethan carefully pulls his fingers out with a final tap against her clit.

“Fuck it, let ‘em watch.” Ethan grits out when Karina release his cock. Karina running her hands up his chest then grip his broad shoulders, using them to balance when he roughly grabs her ass and squeezes, she jump a little, hooking her other leg over his free hip.

As Karina rocking her hips, Ethan’s thick cock easily slides against her slick pussy, nudging between her folds he repeatedly taps against her clit, she can’t help but whimper, clinging to his broad shoulders.

Pausing for a moment Ethan lifts Karina higher, “You ready sweetheart. C’mon talk to me? You want my cock baby?” Ethan questions huskily smirking when Karina bite her lip, his thighs shaking trying to resist the urge to just snap his hips forward.

Karina moan pushing her ass harder into his hands, hoping that he’ll give her what she need. Ethan lines up with her entrance, so that the head of his cock nudges teasingly against her opening and she meet his darkened green eyes.

“C’mon pool boy, show me what you’ve got.”

A long drawn out moan leaves Karina lips when Ethan finally breaks, slowly lowering her onto his hard cock. Clenching his jaw, veins becoming more visible in his neck as he enters her slowly inch by tortuous inch.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Ethn groans dropping his head forward, so that he can suck and bite marks into Karina's neck. Karina cling to him, curses and whimpered plea’s leaving her lips.

Tugging on Ethan’s hair harshly Karina force him to look up at her.

“Fuck! I need it Ethan, please!” Karina begging but she don’t care, because the words are barely out of her mouth before Ethan gives her what she need, snapping his hips forward, filling her in one blissfully hard thrust.

Ethan's fingers are digging into Karina's ass when he starts thrusting, the movements slow and rough but precise, hitting her g-spot on every movement. Karina's feet dig into his ass, water splashing around them with every powerful movement.

“You feel so good baby, shit.” Ethan pants breathlessly, pulling his head away from Karina's neck and his gorgeous green eyes lock onto hers. Karina pushing her hands into the back of his hair as she kiss him, tongue meeting his and messy uncontrolled kiss, angling her hips just right she start to rise and fall on his cock.

Breaking apart only when she feel her pussy beginning to clamp down around his thick length.

“Ethan.. please I’m g-gonna come..” Karina gasp out as she begin to lose her rhythm.

“Fuck, C’mon baby give it to me. Come all over my fucking cock!” Ethan practically snarls low in his chest.

Karina hooking legs over his arms a squeak of surprise leaving her lips when Ethan starts fucking up into her more faster. He’s so deep, it’s like a fire is building in her stomach.

Karina cling to him, his rough movements cause the water to create waves around her. Ethan feels so fucking good that Karina barely notice, she drop her face into the crook of his neck, hot breath fanning against his skin. Sucking and biting marks everywhere she can reach, then out of nowhere Karina orgasm hits her full force, causing her eyes to roll almost painfully, she have to sink her teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming his name.

Ethan hisses as the pain throbs against his skin, carefully he lowers her legs letting her feet touch the floor again. Feeling a little dazed, Karina run her fingers along the bite mark on Ethan's skin, she can’t help but wince a little.

“I’m sorry pool boy, got you all marked up.” Karina giggle lightly, biting into her bottom lip when those eyes turn on her again.

A growl bubbles up in Ethan's throat, he spins her in his hold; roughly pressing Karina into the side of the pool, his chest pressed tightly against her back. Karina spread her legs as his lips press against her ear.

“Oh you wanna see marked up sweetheart, I’ll show you.” Ethan snaps harshly, causing Karina skin to practically buzz as he drags his teeth over her earlobe, those big hands spread her ass cheeks and his cock nudges at her slick entrance again.

“I’ll give you fuckin’ pool boy.” Ethan grunts as he pushes inside Karina in one thrust and bottoms out, muffling her screaming moan with his hand.

Karina fall over the side of the pool with a whimper when Ethan releases her mouth, grip tight and unyielding on her hips. His thrusts are nothing like they’d been before and she can’t get enough, the water sloshes over the edge of the pool as Ethan’s hips bounce off her ass with every brutal thrust he delivers.

“You’re so deep.. Fuck! Feels so good Ethan,” Karina cry out loudly, completely giving up on keeping her voice down, Karina push her ass back meeting his thrusts the best that she can.

“Shit, Karina! I’m gonna come.” Ethan grits out as his hips begin to stutter. His big hands move further over the curves of Karina body, wrapping those talented fingers around her ribs, and she sure that bruises will form there the same way they were beginning to on her hips.

Ethan shifts so that his knees are resting on the ledge between Karina legs, leaning over her so his body is almost draped on top of hers.

“Give it to me Ethan! Please, I need it! Don’t stop.” The words leave Karina lips without her really thinking, nobody has ever had her this wound up and ready to snap, not this fast and definitely not for a second time.

Pushing a hand between her legs Ethan rubs rough circles around Karina clit, forcing her orgasm forward, It’s practically bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut Karina feel her thighs start to shake. Ethan stills behind her, a broken moan leaving his plump lips when he finally comes, her pussy clamps down on his cock as he spills inside her.

His fingers and hips keep moving, his hands feel like they’re everywhere. Karina can’t take it anymore, she gasp his name and with a final rough thrust of his hips pushing her into the side of the pool, she fall apart around him all over again.

Karina shivering as her body collapses against the cold stone in front of her, Ethan's sweaty forehead drops to the bottom of her back, his soft lips pressing kisses into her skin waiting for her to come down.

Karina breathing finally slows down and Ethan helps you down, back into the water, he turns Karina in his arms. “Fuck that was the sexiest thing that’s ever happened.” Ethan grins happily, pulling her body against his as he kisses her, she melt against his lips.

Smiling when she pull away, she push the wet hair from his forehead.

“Think we’ll be remembering this for a few weeks.” Karina giggle, running her fingers gently over the marks on his skin, as his fingers skim across the bruises he’d left behind on her body.

Biting his lip his eyes move across Karina body, still standing so close to his own.

“Oh yeah sweetheart, I’d say so.”

“Trouble is Mr pool man, you’ve definitely got more work to do.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, but she can see the smile that’s curling at the corners of his lips, when he dangles her bikini bottoms from his finger, right in front of her face.

“Oh you ain’t gettin’ out of this one young lady.”

Karina squeal as he tosses the bottoms aside and throws her backwards, she land in the water with a splash. Karina re-emerge from the water, gasping for breath and glare right at Ethan.

“Oh you’re so fucking dead, Lee!”

[hemmingsleclerc]

Did I mention? ┃james potter

james potter x slytherin!reader

james declared himself to yn during a quidditch game in the most ridiculus way possible

𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹

The Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin had been one of the most intense that Hogwarts had seen in years. The stands were full of energy as students from the houses cheered on their teams. Gryffindor's victory was a close one, as James caught the Snitch minutes before Slytherin's Seeker.

As the crowd erupted in cheers, James landed gracefully on the field, his heart pounding not only from the excitement of the game, but from the plan he had meticulously crafted over the previous two weeks. He spotted Y/n Nott, a Slytherin with whom he had shared a number of heated, yet interesting, exchanges over the years. She was fiercely intelligent, strikingly beautiful, and always seemed to be out of his league, which only motivated him further.

Determined and confident, James motioned to Sirius who immediately took the microphone Professor McGonagall had been using to announce the match and handed it to him. James took a deep breath, his Gryffindor courage motivating him as he spoke into the microphone.

"Attention, everyone!" James's voice boomed, drawing the attention of the entire crowd. "I have something important to say."

The stadium fell silent, all eyes on him. James' heart raced even faster when he saw Y/n in the Slytherin stands, studying his actions with curiosity. Nearby, Lily Evans, his friend and lifelong crush (or so they said), stared at him with a mix of surprise and confusion.

''A few years ago, I met a girl who I've completely fallen in love with'' - James began to say - ''I've admired her for a long time. Her intelligence, her strong personality… everything about her captivates me. I've been head over heels for her for as long as I can remember.".''

Lily's heart skipped a beat. Her friends nudged her, whispering excitedly, "He's talking about you, Lily!"

Lily felt her cheeks burn. She was ready to scream at him, she was already forming the words in her mind. How dare he make such a public spectacle? But before she could utter a sound, James continued.

"And I can't think of a better way to express how I feel than right here, right now."

Suddenly, the marauders sprang into action. Sirius, with a mischievous grin, waved a huge sign that read, "Say Yes!" Peter, struggling but determined, held up another sign next to Sirius that read, "You won't regret it!" and Remus carried another with the words, "You won't be disappointed!"

The entire Gryffindor section erupted into laughter and applause, adding to the festive chaos. Y/n couldn't help but laugh and shook her head in disbelief at the spectacle not knowing it was for her.

James took a deep breath and turned directly to Y/n. "So.....Y/n Nott, would you please do me the honor of going to the Yule Ball with me?"

The stadium fell into stunned silence. The shock was clear as everyone took in the unexpected twist. Lily froze, her mouth slightly agape in disbelief. She had been sure he was talking about her. Y/n was also taken aback, her cheeks turning bright red.

“Are you serious, Potter?” she shouted. “Is this a prank?”

"Dead serious Nott!" James responded with a huge smile on his face. "What do you say?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the entire stadium hanging on her response. Finally, she smiled and nodded. "Alright, Potter. You've got yourself a date."

The crowd roared in approval, students from all houses unable to contain their excitement at the unexpected turn of events except for the snakes. James felt as if he was floating on air as he handed the microphone back to a bewildered McGonagall and walked over to Y/n excitedly.

Meanwhile, Lily stood frozen in place, her heart clenching as she watched the scene unfold. She had always known that James had feelings for her, but seeing him so openly and passionately declare his affection for someone else was a bitter pill to swallow. Jealousy and regret gnawed at her as she forced a smile, clapping along with the rest of the students.

"I can't believe it," she muttered under her breath "I thought he was going to ask me out……again."

Sirius, who had been standing nearby, overheard her. With a teasing grin, he leaned in and said, "Girl, he's not going to ask you out anymore, sorry."

While Remus gave him a disapproving look while he elbowed Sirius in the ribs for speaking to Lily like that.

Lily turned to him, her eyes wide with a mix of indignation and shock. "Excuse me?"

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "You really thought he was going to ask you? Come on, Lily. Open your eyes. He's been over you since ages ago."

Lily opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She stood there, speechless, as the reality of the situation sank in. All this time, she had been so certain of James's affections, and now, seeing him with Y/n, she realized just how wrong she had been.

When James reached Y/n, who was still shaking her head in disbelief, he smiled warmly at her. "You're something special, Potter," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I aim to impress," he replied, not taking his gaze from her while he gave her the golden snitch.

[earthchica]

Make It Right

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: Terry makes it right and apologizes to you for his words and his behavior; soon, you and Terry talk through your issues, getting a better understanding of each other and rebuilding your communication.

warnings: angst, slight communication issues, serious conversation, explicit smut (18+), light daddy kink, oral (f), rough pent-up sex, making out, flirting, fluff, domestic life, romantic dinner, family vacation, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist previous chapter { everything I ever wanted }

You heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it opened and then shut, the sound echoing in the quiet bedroom. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped you as Terry wrapped his arms around you, trying to pull you into an embrace.

You could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, but frustration bubbled up inside you. “Get off of me, Terry!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp and annoyant as you firmly shoved him away.

You shifted towards the head of the bed, separating you from the man you hurt your feelings. Terry stood there, a blend of guilt and despair washing over his features.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-I,” Terry stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as his eyes roamed your face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

The remorse in his gaze was sincerity, which struck a deep chord within you. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed and moved closer, extending a hand as if trying to bridge the emotional depth that had formed between you.

“I’m so grateful to have you; you’re such an incredible wife and an amazing mother to our son.” His voice cracked slightly, laden with the weight of his apology, as he pleaded for you to see the truth in his words.

"No, why would you say you're tired of me? How could you say something like that to me of all people?" you yelled, your voice rising as a flood of emotions engulfed you.

A mix of anger and hurt made your heart race. "Baby, I didn't mean—" Terry started to respond, his voice still remorseful, but you couldn't let him finish.

You cut him off, allowing your pent-up emotions to spill like water gushing from a broken dam.

"Do you even grasp how I've been feeling these past few months?" your voice trembled, each word charged with frustration and hurt. "It feels like I'm carrying the whole load on my shoulders, all alone."

"If you’ve been feeling this, why didn't you communicate that to me? You know I'm not a damn mind reader!” Terry shot back, his tone rising and more urgent.

"So it's my fault again?” you retorted, your frustration boiling. “Why don't you take some accountability for once, Terry? You used to know how to support me or recognize when I was struggling without me having to spell it out for you."

Your words hung in the air, charged with the weight of unspoken expectations and the longing for understanding that felt increasingly out of reach.

Terry took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he faced you directly, the moment's weight heavy between you. “Look, I know I messed up badly,” he began, his voice low and sincere.

“I hurt you, and that’s not right. I should have never said I was tired of you. That was just disrespectful. You deserve so much better than that.”

Terry paused, searching for the right words, his eyes filled with regret. “I see how hard you work every day taking care of our son. You do everything for our family; I have taken that for granted. I haven’t been there like I should have been, allowing my frustrations to cloud my judgment.”

Terry stepped closer, his hands outstretched, palms up. “I got no excuses. What I said was wrong, and I’m ashamed of it. You’ve been carryin’ so much, I’m sorry, for real. I wanna make it right, whatever it takes. I'll support you better, listen more, and be the husband I know I can be.”

As he spoke, you could see the love and remorse etched on his face—deep lines of worry creased his brow. But it was hard for you to process his words fully at that moment.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger decrease slightly. "I hear you, Terry,” you said softly, almost dismissively. “But right now, I just need some space…I think you should sleep on the couch.”

You get off the bed to grab your shower cap, go to the bathroom, and close the door. You hear Terry leave the bedroom, the silence filling the space again.

After your shower, you take your time with your night routine, meticulously applying your skincare products as if the physical act could somehow cleanse the emotional turmoil still swirling inside you.

Each motion rhythm felt almost meditative, yet the weight of the conversation earlier loomed heavily in your mind. You are dressed in a comfortable tank top and pajama shorts, feeling the fabric against your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

Finally, you climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, but the emptiness beside you felt overwhelming. The thought of Terry not being close to you despite the hurt made the room quiet.

You wrapped the thick blanket tightly around you, trying to find solace in the familiar fabric, yet you couldn't shake off the need for his presence.

Deep down, you craved the warmth of his body next to yours, the security you felt when he embraced him, even if your heart still stung from his words.

With a shaky sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to seek him out. You padded down the hallway, glancing at the clock—it was already late, and you wondered how long you’d been lost in thought.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him slumped over on the small loveseat in the living room tugged at your heart. His long frame seemed crammed into the little seat, the edges of the cushions barely accommodating his size.

“Terry…” you called softly, barely rising above a whisper. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, eyes widening with surprise and a hint of hope.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his voice thick with fatigue. “Um...” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure how to proceed.

The remnants of the hurt and irritation still lingered, yet the sight of his uncomfortable state and weary expression stirred something inside you.

“Come to bed,” you said softly with no expression, and his expression shifted to relief. “Are you sure?” Terry asked, a mixture of cautious optimism laced in his tone.

“Yeah, just…come on,” you replied, trying to sound more convinced than you felt. Terry was always so imposing as he stood up but looked helpless and small.

Without another word, he followed you back upstairs, and the silence between you felt thick. As you entered the bedroom, you climbed back into the bed, the sheets still warm where you had been.

Terry lingered by the door momentarily, hesitation clear on his face. “Are you still upset?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with concern. “I am,” you replied, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the situation.

“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow when we’re both in a better headspace.” You said softly. Terry nodded, understanding and regret evident in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, he climbed into bed beside you, leaving a respectful and cautious distance between you. The silence hung between you until it was almost suffocating, but neither knew how to break it.

Instead, you both lay there, staring at the ceiling and pretending to be asleep. Eventually, sleep found its way to you both. The night felt long, but eventually, morning came with the promise of a new day.

As the sun peaked through the curtains, you stirred awake first, feeling the warmth of Terry's body against you, and you glanced over at him; your heart softened just a bit as you watched him breathe softly.

After last night's argument, some of you wanted to stay angry and distant from Terry, but another part just wanted things back to normal. You knew in your heart that you two would work this out somehow.

You turn over, gently reach over, and place your hand on his cheek before returning to sleep. Terry stirred slightly and cracked open an eye if you felt your touch even in his sleep.

Terry softly smiled at your sleepy state, knowing he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, the soft glow illuminating the dim room.

Sitting up, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a tough day ahead—not at work, but at home. He scrolled through his contacts, dialing in to call your uncle.

“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he said after a few rings. “I won’t be coming in today…yeah, personal reasons. I need to be home…Okay, thank you.” As he hung up, he glanced over at you, still half-asleep.

Terry slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. Padding softly to the baby’s room, he gently lifted Elijah from the crib. Cradling him in his arms, he marveled momentarily at how small and innocent his son looked.

“Good morning, little man,” Terry whispered, bouncing Elijah slightly as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He set the little one in the high chair, securing him safely with the straps.

The baby’s sleepy gaze slowly transformed into a wide-eyed curiosity as he watched his daddy move about the kitchen. With Elijah happily sitting in his chair, Terry began preparing breakfast.

Terry rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, and fresh fruit. As he cracked the eggs into the skillet, their sizzling brought a sense of calm.

Cooking had always been a form of therapy for him. “Let’s get you some breakfast, too, huh?” he chimed to Elijah as he quickly poured him a bottle.

Terry could hear Elijah's soft noises of delight, making focusing easier. Deep down, he hoped that doing this would show you his sincerity.

After feeding Elijah, Terry made a generous portion of the breakfast for you and himself and set the table. As you wake up to an empty bed, you glance at the time and feel slightly panicked.

However, you hear Terry's voice through the baby monitor, talking to Elijah in the kitchen about you, hoping this would be the start of you forgiving him for your argument last night.

As you got out of bed, rubbed the sleep from your eyes, went to brush your teeth, and washed your face before strolling downstairs towards the kitchen.

The aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, making your stomach rumble. Terry turned as he caught sight of you, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.

“Morning,” he said warmly, his voice brightening the atmosphere. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite,” he added; you tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “My favorite?”

“Yeah,” he replied, setting a plate on the table before you. “Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. I know you usually love a little bit of everything.”

As you sat, Elijah babbled enthusiastically in his high chair, excited to see both of you. You couldn’t help but smile at your son and kiss his forehead. "Good morning, baby boy"

You started to eat, the first few bites eliciting a sense of normalcy you desperately craved. “Thanks for making breakfast, Terry,” you said softly, focusing on Elijah. “It smells amazing.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Terry admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know.....last night. I hate that we left things unresolved.”

You looked up from your plate, gauging Terry’s expression. His eyes were sincere, mixed with an undercurrent of regret. “Yeah, I appreciate that you’re trying this morning.”

Terry nodded slightly, the weight of his guilt apparent in each motion. “I just want you to know again I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well.”

You paused before responding. “I get that, Terry, but when you said that to me...my heart broke, and I thought we were locked on this, I thought-.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious level. “It’s just so hard sometimes, balancing everything— Elijah, work, our marriage. I let the stress get the best of me and took it out on you.”

"Well, I think we really need to work on our communication because ever since Elijah was born, I feel like we've lost sight of that strength we've built," you said, your voice filled with realization.

Terry acknowledged the tension in his shoulders, easing just a bit. “You're right. I've noticed it, too. I miss how we used to talk, how we could share anything without worry.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of those words resonating deeply. “Yeah, me too. Remember those late-night talks we used to have? We'd stay up for hours just dreaming about our future, making plans together. Now it feels like we're just trying to survive the day.”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I want to go back to that. “We have to find a way to carve out time for us, even if it's just small moments here and there.”

“What do you think that looks like?” you asked, genuinely curious. “How can we make it happen?” you added. Terry took a moment, clearly contemplating.

“Maybe we could set aside a few minutes each night after Elijah goes to bed. We could just talk about our day or even watch something together. Something light and fun.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “I would love that. But I also think we need to be able to have those conversations when things get tough. It can't all be about being positive; we must address the heavy stuff, too.”

Terry thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You're right. I think it's so easy to avoid conflict, thinking it will just resolve itself. But it won't, will it? We have to face it head-on before resentment builds up.”

“I can be guilty of that too,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the past few months crash over you. “I've been just bottling things up instead of expressing my feelings. It’s easier to keep the peace, even if it eats away at me.”

“I get that,” he said softly, his gaze steady on you. “But I promise to do better. I want to hear what you say, baby, no matter how difficult. I care about your feelings and will be a better husband; I want to be a better husband.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Terry. That means a lot, and you are a good husband and a father. We're in a tough patch, and I'm sure we'll get through. I want you to feel the same way. We need to make this a mutual effort. If I ever say something that bothers you, please don't hesitate to let me know.”

Terry reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You have my word. And I hope you know I'm committed to strengthening our marriage. There's nothing more important to me than you and Elijah; “I love you, baby.”

"I love you too, Terry." With those words lingering in the air, you both shared a transformative moment of understanding. It wasn't an immediate solution to all your problems, but it was a solid step.

-

The past few weeks have been a turning point for both of you. Communicating openly like you used to, sharing your thoughts and feelings without the weight of tension lingering in the air, had lightened the load on your heart.

As you and Terry cuddled on the couch, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting. The lamp's soft glow lit the room just enough to create an intimate atmosphere.

You watched Elijah through the baby monitor, sleeping peacefully in his crib. “Wow, you came through, huh?” you said playfully, playing with his ears.

“I feel like I barely had to lift a finger with the housework and Elijah. You got my back like that?” You said with a smile. Terry chuckled, leaning closer to you.

“Well, if I keep you happy, it’s a win-win situation, right?” He pretended to flex his muscles, and you both laughed at the moment's silliness.

“You’re so crazy,” you teased, smirking at him. “But real talk, I appreciate it. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s been a minute since we had this together.”

“Right? I missed this, alot, I mean a lot a lot ” Terry expressed, his face turning soft. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“You know I love you, sweetheart, I wanna see you shine and be happy,” Terry said, and you smiled, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.

“Aww, Terry, I love you too so much. I know I can get caught up in my head often, but having you step up like this? It just makes me feel so much better.”

Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “You keep saying how I stepped up, but it’s us together making it work. You’re the heart of this whole household, baby.”

Terry paused momentarily, still gazing into your eyes, and you could feel the heat rising between you. “We’ve been keeping things going in the house lately, being a team.”

“True, that's how it's supposed to be. And it feels good to be back in sync,” you responded, feeling at ease. “It’s nice to know you’re all in, and I’m all in too.”

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow kiss. It was sweet at first, but gradually, it deepened, both of you melting into the moment as your bodies relaxed against each other.

A playful glint sparkled in his eye when he gently pulled away, hinting at a fun idea. “You know,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

"We should plan a little family getaway. Somewhere we can kick back and truly relax.” He said deeply low. “A vacation?” you replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Really?” you asked, and Terry leaned closer, the enthusiasm contagious as he continued. “Yeah! How about we spend a weekend at that villa we used to visit in Cancun?"

"And we could invite your parents to join us. It would be an excellent opportunity to unplug from all the chaos and have fun.” His eyes lit up with the thought, a sparkle mirroring his excitement.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, imagining the warm sands and gentle ocean breezes. “That sounds amazing! I adore that place. It holds so many wonderful memories for us."

"—it’s where it all began. Plus, this would be Elijah's very first vacation! What a special way to introduce him to such a beautiful location.” You gasped.

Terry chuckled softly, “So, you wanna do it?” You nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Let’s do it! I can already envision the memories we can make.”

Cancun, Mexico

The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful Cancun shoreline as the day unfolded—a perfect Sunday morning.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the soft, powdery sand created a soothing rhythm while a refreshing breeze played against your dark-brown skin, carrying the faint scent of salt and beach flowers.

Elijah giggled uncontrollably as he splashed playfully in the sandy oasis around him. Tiny grains of sand stuck to his little fingers and toes, glistening like miniature jewels in the sunlight.

You and your mom were fully immersed in the moment, working together to construct an elaborate sandcastle. Its towers rose proudly, decorated with seashells and bits of seaweed, as you all hoped it could withstand the approaching tide.

“Look at you, Eli! You love the sand, huh?!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection. The moment's joy was captured forever as you snapped a picture of his bright smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight.

Elijah's laughter echoed around you, filling the air with pure joy as you and your mom continued to shape the sandcastle. Your dad strolled, still wet from his time on the jet skis, with a broad grin.

“Y’all got some serious skills over here!” he called out, surveying the castle. "That’s lookin’ like a real palace for my grandbaby!" Your mom chuckled, smoothing out a rough edge of the sandcastle.

“A palace fit for a prince! Ain’t he just the cutest?” She looked down at Elijah, who was now trying to pick up a handful of sand and giggling when it slipped through his tiny fingers.

“Right?” you replied, grinning. Your dad squatted beside Elijah, chuckling as the baby reached out toward him, his little hands covered in sand.

“Hey, Eli? Are you makin’ masterpieces over here? You tryna start a sand empire?” He asked. Elijah let out a squeal of delight, and your dad couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aww, look at that smile! He’s sayin’ ‘I got this, grandpa!’” Just then, Terry wandered back from the jet skis, a towel draped around his neck.

“What's going on? Y’all makin’ a sandcastle? I wanna see!” Terry said, leaning down, peering curiously at Elijah. “And there’s my number one fan!”

“Look at him, Terry!” you exclaimed, scooping Elijah into your arms as his face lit up at the sight of his daddy. “He’s ready to take on the beach. He’s got sand in places I didn’t even think was possible!”

Terry laughed, reaching out to tickle Elijah’s belly, causing him to burst out in another fit of giggles. “Man, how did we get so lucky? He’s a whole treasure out here!”

“Right, such a blessing!” your mom chimed in. You looked at the happy scene around you—your parents, your husband, and your precious son—and felt your warm heart swell.

“This is what it’s all about, y’all. Family!” You said softly, and Terry smiled at you sweetly. “That's right!” your dad agreed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“We gotta make the most of these days, y’know? Family, fun, and all this love. Ain’t nothin’ better!” With everyone laughing and loving on Elijah, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over your little beach paradise.

Later.

The afternoon unfolded beautifully as your family gathered around the spacious dining table at the villa, sharing a delightful lunch filled with laughter and stories.

The warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the cozy living room where everyone eventually settled in. Plush cushions beckoned from the oversized sofas, and the aroma of delicious food lingered in the air.

Your parents, visibly relaxed and content, cherished their time with Elijah, engaging in lighthearted conversations that filled the room with joy and warmth.

Terry leaned over to you, a playful grin on his face. “How about a little adventure?” he whispered, eyeing your parents, who were busily playing their grandson.

“What do you have in mind, handsome man?” you asked, intrigued. Terry glanced toward your mom and dad. "Well, I would you love to take you out for dinner? Just the two of us?”

Your heart raced with excitement. “Really? What about Elijah?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll ask your parents to watch him, so we can have some time for ourselves.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of a romantic evening.

With every detail, he sparked a thrill in your heart that had been dormant for too long. “Okay, you’ve got a deal!” You said with a smile, you rushed upstairs to freshen up.

You pulled out a multicolored sundress adorned with shapes and designs. You applied some light makeup, focusing on a touch of lip gloss that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

Staring at your reflection, you felt nostalgia and excitement, feeling beautiful and ready for the evening ahead. When you returned to where your parents and Elijah were gathered, your dad raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Wow, look at you, miss thang! Someone’s got a hot date!” He teased, and you laughed. “Just a little dinner with Terry. He has a surprise planned for us.”

"Sounds wonderful! And you two deserve it, sweet pea." Your dad said with a light smile on his face, and your mom clapped her hands together.

“Yeah. We’ll take good care of Elijah. You both go enjoy your night!” Your mom said with a smile, and you nodded, giving Elijah a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

You met Terry at the beach's edge, his eyes lighting up as he took in your dress. “You look stunning, baby,” Terry said, taking your hand as you walked together towards the car.

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter. As you neared your destination, you noticed a seaside restaurant nestled under twinkling lights, music wafting from within.

“Is this our spot?” you asked, excitement bubbling. “Yup! I figured we could have a nice dinner followed by some dancing,” he said with a wink, holding the door open for you as you stepped out.

Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candles on the tables and soft music playing in the background. After being seated, you both ordered and sipped on lemonade while discussing anything.

Terry leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you got any plans for when we take over the dance floor, huh?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr. Smooth! I’m ready to turn this place out.” You twirled strands of hair around your finger, feeling the chemistry between you.

Terry raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh really now? Do you think you can keep up with me? I might spin you so fast you'll forget where you are!”

You laughed, biting your lip playfully as you met his gaze. “Honey, I was born ready! Just wait till I hit you with these hips. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Is that a challenge, baby girl?” Terry asked, feigning shock as he leaned closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.

“Because if it is… well, I’m here for it.” His voice dipped low, drawing you in. The waiter arrived with your appetizers, but neither of you paid much attention.

Your eyes were locked in a playful duel. “You know I never back down from a challenge,” you replied boldly, lifting your glass in a mock salute before sipping the lemonade.

He watched every move you made with a smile that made your heart flutter. “And that’s exactly why I love ya,” he said softly, his tone turning more sincere.

It felt like old times, just the two of you in each other's company, the laughter ringing like music. After dinner, the music softened, and the atmosphere turned more romantic.

Terry stood, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?” With a smile, you took his hand as he led you to the dance floor, where the soft light danced around you like fireflies on a warm summer night.

As you swayed together, you felt the rhythm of the music seep into your bones. Terry pulled you closer, his hands resting gently on your lower back, confidently guiding you.

The world around you faded, and it was just him and you, lost in this moment. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings that made your heart swell.

“Look at you, movin’ like you own this floor,” Terry murmured, admiration dripping from his voice. “Ain’t nobody can do it like you can, sweetheart.”

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a giddy thrill igniting your chest. “Terry,” you replied, biting back a smile as you twirled under his arm, relishing how he effortlessly caught you again.

“You know how to make a girl feel special.” You said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart sync with yours.

Terry chuckled lowly, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes. “Nah, baby girl, it’s all about you. Every move, every glance— I can’t help but be mesmerized,” he said earnestly.

“You’re my whole world.” His gaze held yours captive; it was intimate and raw, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

“You know what you are doing!” You laughed lightly as your cheeks warmed under his adoration. “Maybe...but I'm just speaking the truth,” he whispers, kissing your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush that sent shivers down your spine. Time seemed to slow as you melted into him, the world around you fading.

You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade mingled with the warmth of his breath, an intoxicating blend that left you craving more.

As the music swelled, so did your passion. Terry deepened the kiss, his hands roaming from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any space between you.

“Baby,” Terry breathed against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You gotta know what kinda hold you got on me.”

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his affection. “Oh really? Is that right?” You leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his cheek, an invitation that promised more.

“Yeah...hey, I have something else special,” he replied with a playful smirk. His eyes sparkled as he twirled you again, then pulled you back into him, letting the music guide your movements.

“After this amazing dinner, what could you have else planned, Terry?" You asked as your bodies moved harmoniously, hips swaying together like they were made for this dance.

This moment where nothing else mattered. "You'll have to see, come on," he whispered, took your hand, leading you back to the table to settle the bill.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at you with that glint in his eye that always made your heart skip. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Let’s go!” you answered, excitement bubbling over.

You stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand. You two were in the car again and eventually made where you two were going. “Terry, where we goin’?” you asked, curiosity bubbling up like champagne, your heart racing as he pulled you along.

“Just trust me, baby,” he said over his shoulder, his smile mischievous and inviting. “I promise it’s somethin’ real special.”

You squeezed his hand, excitement surging through you as he navigated through the small villa. Every step was a tease; every turn held the potential for surprise.

Finally, he stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. He turned to you, letting go of your hand just long enough to pull out a small key from his pocket.

“Now, don't be peekin',” Terry said with a grin as he unlocked it. Your anticipation heightened as the door creaked open, revealing a cozy space bathed in warm golden light.

“Oh wow…” you breathed as you stepped inside, your heart leaping at the sight before you—a smaller villa impeccably decorated with rich crimson roses scattered across the bed and soft candlelight illuminating every corner.

“Surprise!” Terry announced proudly, closing the door behind you both. “I figured we needed a little time on this vacation just for us.” You spun around to face him, unable to contain your joy.

“Terry! This is, this is so beautiful and sweet! You really thought of everything!” You said softly, looking at him happily.

“Aww, you know I had to treat you right, baby. “Ain't nothin' but the best for my queen,” he said, his voice smooth like honey as he stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, sending shivers down your spine. “Terry, I love you,” you replied with a grin, your heart fluttering like a butterfly in spring.

Terry's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “Oh, baby, I love you too," Terry said, reaching for your waist.

Terry pulled you against him as his lips met yours with an urgent hunger. The kiss ignited a fire within you, deepening as he playfully nibbled on your bottom lip.

“Taste so sweet,” Terry murmured against your mouth before pulling away just enough to gaze intently into your eyes. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly to the bed.

“I've been wanting you all night” Terry growled, his breath hot against your skin as he sat you on the bed. The soft sheets beckoned you both as he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Look at you” Terry teased, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Got all dressed up and ready for me; now it's time to rip that shit off.”

With that, he started peeling off your dress, bra, and panties like they were the layers of an onion, revealing every inch of your skin to him." fuck baby,” he said appreciatively, feasting his eyes on your body.

“You're so damn stunning.” His voice dropped low, sending shivers through you. “I could get lost in you.” He added. “Oh, Terry…” you breathed out, feeling the heat between you two intensify.

Terry leaned closer, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body before trailing down to your thighs. “You smell good, too,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

“I bet you taste even better.” You could feel the electricity crackling as he moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. “Gonna make you scream my name tonight,” he promised with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Baby, don’t tease me like that,” you replied breathlessly, biting your lip in anticipation. His presence was intoxicating, and every moment felt like it was building to something spectacular.

“I ain’t teasin’; I’m just gettin' started,” Terry responded, his voice dripping with a sultry confidence that sent heat racing through your veins.

Terry grinned, eyes glinting as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “Now open up for me, mama,” he commanded softly, the authority in his tone making your heart race even faster.

“I wanna taste that sweet, wet pussy of yours the way you know I can.” He said sensual and you shivered at the intensity of his gaze, feeling wholly exposed yet utterly safe in his presence.

“Terry,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively toward him. Terry smirked as he spread your thighs wider, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With no warning, he dove in hungrily, lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot and sucking gently while his tongue flicked teasingly over you.

The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. "Oh, shit! Terry," you moaned, gripping the sheets as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“You taste so damn incredible,” Terry growled against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your core. “Like candy…I could spend all night down here.”

His tongue danced expertly, swirling and teasing as he took his time savoring every inch of you. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.

You could feel it building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to burst. “I’m close, baby! Just like that!” You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips as his mouth worked its magic.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Terry growled, deepening his rhythm as he added a finger, sliding it inside you just right. “C’mon, let me feel you.” He watched with satisfaction as your body responded to him, arching and writhing beneath his touch.

“Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart,” Terry demanded, his voice thick with desire. You could barely form words; each syllable was swallowed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“It feels… so fucking good, Terry!” you gasped out, your hand finding the back of his head, pulling him closer as if that could draw him deeper into you. “Don’t stop… I need to cum.”

“Then do it for me,” Terry urged, his tongue flicking faster against your sensitive bud while pumping his fingers in and out of you with expert precision. “Let me taste all that sweetness.”

And just like that, the coil inside you snapped. You cried out his name like a prayer, waves of ecstasy washing over you as your body quaked in pleasure.

“Oh ahhh fuck, Terry!” Your voice echoed in the room as you caved to the bliss. He lapped at every sweetness that flowed from you, savoring your release as if it were the finest delicacy.

“Damn, baby! You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Terry said, kissing along your inner thighs. You were panted, barely able to catch your breath.

“That was…” You couldn't get the words out; they were still coming down from your high. “I know, baby girl,” he said, winking at you as he got off the bed to take his clothes off.

Terry climbed back on top of the bed, his muscular arms flexing as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes locked with yours as he pressed the tip of his big, throbbing dick against your wet pussy.

“Tell me what you want, sexy,” he purred in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want Daddy to make love to his good girl or fuck her senseless?”

You looked into his eyes, the fire igniting a corresponding flame within you. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you growled, the words leaving a wake of desire in their path. “Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.”

"You got it, baby," he said with a mischievous grin. Terry slammed his dick inside you, filling you to the hilt and setting every nerve ending ablaze.

"Damn, mmmm...you feel so amazing!" His breathing was labored and erratic as he pulled back out slowly before slamming back in even harder.

"Goddamn, yes, Terry! yes, Fuck me like you mean it!" Your words mixed with moans as he relentlessly pounded into you. "Harder, Terry! I want it harder!"

"No problem, babe," he grunted, picking up the pace. Sweat beading on both your brows as your bodies slapped together in carnal rhythm. “I’m gonna give it to you so good,” he said with a moan.

"I know you will, Terry," you moaned. "I know you gonna fuck me senseless."

"You better believe it," he growled, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your plump breasts, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.

"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy squeezes your tits while he fucks you?"

"Yes! Yes, Daddy, I love it!" you cried out, arching your back to meet him stroke for filthy stroke. "Squeeze them harder, make me cum again!"

Terry obliged, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. Your moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a symphony of lust and desire.

"Oh shit, baby, I'm close," Terry grunted, his breath coming in short pants. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

"Cum inside me! Cum deep inside of me and show me how much you love me!" you screamed, your own orgasm building up once more.

"Damn, my nasty girl," Terry groaned before picking up the pace even more. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels like heaven. fuck I love you.”

As if that were the final push needed, both of you came undone together. Terry roared out his release as he pumped hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Terry, Terry, Terry" you screamed, chanting his name at the top of your lungs as your body quaked with another mind-shattering orgasm.

Your bodies trembled together as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. Terry collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath.

After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. "That was…incredible," you panted, nuzzling into his chest. "You're incredible," Terry murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as your heartbeats slowly returned to normal. You lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow.

[bluesunss]

Bad movies lead to bad decisions Choi Su-bong x F! Reader

Bad movies part 1

part 2 part 3

summary: "wanna make out?" "sure." in which -> two great friends decide making out is more interesting than watching the crappy movie playing on screen.

warnings: none, make-out session?, no game au

word count: 1.2k

a/n: enjoyy

The movie was garbage.

Se-mi was the first to warn you: it was new, the poster looked amateur, and the director had a bad reputation. You hadn’t really listened. She turned down the invitation - though you had a theory she just wanted to see her girlfriend.

Min-su rarely went out without Se-mi; she was his protector of sorts, and he absolutely feared Nam-gyu and Su-bong together. Gyeong-su had a blind date, and Nam-gyu actually did show up at one point - only to last about two minutes before saying, “Fuck this shit, I’m leaving.”

Which left just you and Su-bong.

It shouldn’t have been awkward. You’d known each other for a while, and he was more than goofy enough to carry the conversation. Except he was bored, and you had to admit, that was on you. You were the one who suggested this. Now, you regretted it deeply.

Su-bong wasn’t a patient man. He was holding back for your sake, but give it a few more minutes and he’d cave, just like Nam-gyu had. He had some empathy, but not much to begin with. And besides, he kept glancing at your skirt, which had ridden up to your upper thighs thanks to the uncomfortable seat.

Among the group, you were closest to Se-mi and Gyeong-su. Min-su was like a toddler or a kitten, too shy sometimes, always retreating behind Se-mi, making it hard to interact with him directly.

Nam-gyu was an insufferable little shit, but you tolerated him like an annoying little brother. And Su-bong… well. You’d gone to the same high school, even shared a class for a year. You used to hate him, he was the class clown, and you were a study freak, which made focusing ten times harder.

On top of that, you actually felt bad for the teachers. But over time, he grew on you, especially after that one evening when you were stuck on cleaning duty alone. That night, he wasn’t as talkative. You noticed bruises on his arm. But the second he caught you looking, he grinned and started flirting again, snapping the moment back to normal. After that, you decided to go a little easier on him.

After high school, you didn’t see each other again - until one night, walking down a random street, you spotted him with Nam-gyu in the middle of a fight. He was spitting insults at some guy over money, looking as feral as ever. You’d been with Se-mi and Jun-hee, a uni friend, when Jun-hee suddenly recognized her boyfriend in the mess and stepped in, effectively ending the brawl.

A few weeks later, the group had formed. Gyeong-su joined in, Min-su followed Se-mi, and Su-bong, for whatever reason, dragged Nam-gyu along.

Which brought you back to now.

The movie was utter garbage. No plot, awful cinematography, chaotic lighting, a soundtrack that made you want to gouge your ears out. Cliché. Half the theater had already walked out. Su-bong kept shifting in his seat, glancing over his shoulder planning the moment he’d eventually leave too - before his eyes inevitably landed back on your skirt. His breathing was heavier than normal, fingers hovering above his pocket as he wanted to reach for his vape but knew he wasn’t allowed.

“Girl, this is trash,” he finally muttered. “Like, I know you wanted this bad and I’m sorry to hurt your feelings, but I can’t. Plus, I wanna smoke or sum. My throat’s dry as fuck.”

When you did not respond immediately, he frowned slightly, looking at you properly for the first time in the past hour. “You mad, mama? I mean, I can buy you a soda or sum and wait for ya outside. But it’s hot as hell in here.”

You shook your head. “Nah, it’s shit. I agree.” You lowered the hem of your skirt slightly, only to realize he was still watching. You already knew he was dirty-minded - that was a given - but the poorly shot sex scenes in the movie had planted some less-than-pure thoughts in your own head, too. “Wanna leave?”

His gaze dragged up from your thighs as he ignored your question. “Why’d you wear that? It’s cold outside.”

You smirked. “Like you mind. You’ve been checking me out for the past thirty minutes.”

He grinned, unashamed. “Yeah, well. Your thighs’re more interesting than whatever the fuck’s going on up there.” He stretched his arms behind his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Ahh, bro. My neck hurts like a bitch. I’m so fucking bored.”

Without changing his position, he continued.

“Wanna make out?”

Your heart skipped. Maybe it was the dim lighting. Or the shitty movie. Or the over-exaggerated moaning sounds blasting from the speakers. But the thought didn’t seem so bad in the moment.

He wasn’t even expecting a response - just fished around in his pocket and popped a few candies into his mouth. “Want some, señorita?”

“We could.”

He didn’t get it at first. He was too busy trying to swallow, tongue pushing against his teeth to get rid of the candy bits. Then, he stilled. Blinked at you. “What?” He stared, confused. "M'sorry mama I got no clue how you answered 'we could' to wanting a candy."

You swallowed. “Not the candy. Before.”

Silence.

He stopped chewing altogether. His eyes flickered from your face to your lips and back again, mouth slightly agape.

“Aight. Bet.”

His fingers reached up, grazing the side of your face, finding a spot behind your ear, and you let go of your necklace to meet his stare. The back row was empty. The entire theater was silent, save for the occasional shifting of seats and the low hum of the movie. And you didn’t give a damn about the movie.

And… and he smelled fruity. Artificially so. A mix of his detergent and some cheap cologne. And… and he was close.

With no second thoughts, you closed the gap. Hesitantly, at first. Just a peck. But he knew his way around this - his teeth caught your lip, teasing, and his tongue pushed past before you could react. Cold rings brushed your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. What started slow quickly turned into a mess - sloppier, hungrier, his hands cradling your face as if he couldn’t get enough. Then, they dropped.

He found your thighs. Gripped. His fingers kneaded at the bare skin, pushing your skirt higher.

“So fucking smooth, señorita,” he murmured against your lips before swallowing them again.

It should’ve felt normal. Like any other make-out session in a club, with any other guy. But fuck. It was so damn different. His lips tasted like the candy from earlier, and your chest was burning, your pulse hammering out of control. Every touch scorched. You needed this.

And when you tilted your head slightly, giving him more room to move, he lost it completely - grabbing your waist, lifting you onto his lap. Straddling him, your legs squeezed tighter, and the friction between his pants and your bare skin sent sparks through your nerves. The theater didn’t exist anymore. The people coming and going didn’t exist. Just the sloppy noises of your mouths, his breath against your skin, the way his hands roamed over every inch he could reach.

Your fingers found his hair, tangling. His fingers dug into your thighs. And beneath you - you felt him.

He needed you just as badly.

Halfway through a kiss, you both froze at the same time.

Light. Doors opening. Voices. The screen dimmed. The movie was over.

Reality hit like a slap to the face.

You broke apart, breathless, wide-eyed. He ran a hand through his hair. You scrambled off him, smoothing your skirt, trying to shake off whatever the hell that was. He grabbed his jacket.

Neither of you said a word.

As you stepped into the cold night air, Su-bong just did his usual quick handshake you like usual. Neither of you spoke.

Of course, he wouldn’t mention it. He said goodbye after calling you an Uber and left.

The movie really really was garbage.

guysss lmk what you think or if you want a part 2!!

[vaguely-concerned]

This might be due to the fact that on my first playthrough I ended up creating a Rook more emotionally guarded than any of the companions except Minrathous-route Lucanis and perhaps Neve, so I was primed to look for it, but I never got the sense that the companions don’t care for Rook (the thought never even occurred to me until I saw other people post about it) — to me it seems much more like it’s Rook who keeps the last bit of distance, Rook who pulls away when the companions try to extend their care or worry too directly, who keeps themselves slightly apart. (Rook who is so full of grief they cannot know as grief and thus process that there’s no room inside them to let anything else all the way in, perhaps.) They deflect and flinch back when someone gets too close or approaches them too overtly about their feelings — especially when it brushes up against the theme of grief. They can offer care to all the companions who are grieving, come along to any number of funerals as emotional support, but the moment someone turns that towards them they shut that shit down Immediately, like when Taash almost gives the whole game away with ‘Like you’d know? You act like you haven’t lost anyone!’ and Rook just blandly responds ‘We’re talking about you’ and doesn’t engage. But they can also admit that they struggle with accepting compliments, or knowing what to say, or having confidence in themselves without Varric’s help.

Despite all their determination and even in their most stoic no-nonsense incarnation, Rook is awkward, with the struggles that entails. Someone who is eager and happy to be the helper wherever they can, and helplessly unequipped to know how to be the helpee, as it were. It’s not that the companions don’t return Rook’s attachment to them, there’s MUCH more of a ‘okay so what are the ways you will allow me to be good to you??’ desperation of care vibe behind all their invitations to conversations and hangouts together, to my mind. They bring Rook to their favourite places and share the things they love with them, they ask to spend time together (many times just to have their company, not because they have a problem they need help with! Sometimes the problem arises anyway b/c video game quest narrative of course), they bring them out for some direly needed grass touching, they introduce them to their families. Everyone is clearly getting the sense that Rook does Not want to talk about Varric especially (this is in fact what Harding says in banter, if she’s still alive after the reveal :’( ), but they are absolutely SCRAMBLING to find ways to show that they’re there for them even so. AND from the companions’ perspective, with the situation as they have the means to understand it, accepting that Rook isn’t ready to have that conversation and backing off is also a kind thing to do. (tl;dr: To Me Rook is that weirdly socialized friend who is a great hang once they’re actually there but you have to directly invite them or they don’t quite know how to initiate the contact themselves lol) 

Just as a crushing sense of responsibility for their family is a trait that is built into Hawke no matter how you play them or how you make them respond to that, I feel like Rook — however helpful and earnest, warm, charming, jocular, stoic or straightforward they seem at a surface glance — is always someone who struggles deeply with connecting to themselves and other people. (Emotional Intimacy, the Final Frontier.) As, indeed, is the case with all of the Veilguard companions too! It’s clearly a deliberate theme. These are all lonely people struggling with their sense of identity and belonging in some sort of way. AND having, working on and eventually starting to overcome these difficulties also makes Rook a direct foil for Solas, who doesn’t learn that lesson unless you corner him at the end of the world to force feed him his medicine lmao. They don’t manage to break out of the regret prison under their own steam, it’s because even struggling and grieving they have managed to create mutual bonds with other people who show up for them in turn now — and with all the protective walls of denial around what happened to Varric crumbling and making them less of a stranger to themselves, Rook is finally able to let them. An outcome Solas seemingly didn’t even consider to guard against, because he’s become that deeply entrenched in his loneliness, the utter isolation of the self — he can no longer truly imagine an alternative. (It’s not that he can’t form these bonds, obviously, it’s that he resolutely refuses to value them. Whether it’s because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it or out of a need for control or the martyr complex where he must sacrifice everything he loves on the sacrificial pyre of fixing his mistakes, all of the above and more, the result is the same. Mind!Varric, who I think is mostly Solas speaking, even calls this out directly. So yet again a situation where he has some self awareness about it and it doesn’t help At All haha. Solas falls to the temptation of making people into tools again and again and again, no matter how many times it comes back to bite him in the ass and the eternal solitude it traps him in.) 

And that deep deep loneliness… There but for the grace of… well the theological state of thedas being what it is right now, let’s just go with the grace of Something, Presumably go you as well, Rook. The same capacity/tendency to pull away from connection clearly lives in them as well in some form (again, for whatever reason and with whatever motivations and instincts behind it for any individual Rook). Solas and Rook coming together to create a blood magic paper doll of the mind Varric in response to acute loss and loneliness is one of the most deep , deeply fucked up and invasive acts of intimacy I’ve ever contemplated. I don’t think that’s accidental, there’s something There’s Something Wrong With You (there’s something wrong with you that’s also wrong with me (derogatory)) here that resonates no matter how both parties would hate to hear it. (A fitting legacy for Varric and his wild ‘I made my best friend into a story because it’s the only way I know how to love with this desperation of sincerity’ brain to leave in the narrative, methinks. I feel he’d appreciate it on a craft level, if nothing else.)

If you read through all of Rook’s potential backstories, one of the common threads through all of them, along with a certain maverick ‘I’ll do whatever it takes’ streak, is a sense of profound alienation. They did something or have some sort of quality that made it hard for them to fit in with the group they’re from, causing a conflict that cuts them off from parts of their identity as it’s been up until now. All of which also adds to how important Varric is to them — he was clearly able to break/see through some of that and be closer with them, even in the relatively short time they spent together. No matter what else goes to shit, they can trust that a) Varric sees them, b) he genuinely likes them and believes in them not despite who they are, but for it, and c) he’s got their back, we’re in this together kid. And then he is gone, and it takes them the whole game to be able to bring themselves to accept that and know themselves again, be able to let new relationships in fully. The very understandable ‘the last time I let someone in, they got stabbed before my eyes and the world ended’ flinch away, even if they’re not consciously aware that’s what it is. Anyway I love Rook. So much space to play around in here as to WHY they might feel or react like this, even when the framework is more defined.

[spencerfuckngreid]

Burning Up || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader · Category: Angst, Smut · Warning: Soft sex, happy ending. · Words: 3082 · Summary : A tension exists between you and Spencer. He actively resists and maintains distance every time you come near. He has an internal conflict between what is right and what is wrong. · Inspiration: Song: "Burning Up" Madonna

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind! · Masterlist · TikTok

The room was charged with a subtle electricity that always seemed to build between you two. The rest of the team had already left to rest or go over leads in other areas, leaving you alone with Spencer.

You had tried to focus on the files in front of you—the photographs, the scattered notes on the table—but your eyes kept drifting toward him. Seated across from you, hunched over his notebook, Spencer scribbled something with the intensity of someone trying to find a logical way through chaos.

It was that intensity that drew you in—it always had. Spencer had an aura that made him seem untouchable, as if his mind operated on a level no one else could reach. And yet, the more time you spent near him, the clearer it became that there was something beneath the surface. Something vulnerable. Something passionate. Something he worked hard to bury under layers of professionalism.

"Don't put me off, 'cause I'm on fire."

The lyric echoed in your mind, and you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

"Y/N, are you listening?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you'd been staring in his direction—though not directly at him. "Yeah, yeah… of course. What were you saying?"

Spencer frowned slightly, adjusting his glasses with a quick motion before pointing at the map spread out on the table. "I said that the profile suggests the suspect will likely return to where it all started. It’s a pattern that—"

"Uh-huh, I get that," you interrupted gently, leaning forward to get a better look at the map. "But what if that’s exactly what he wants us to think? What if he's breaking the pattern on purpose? I know it’s not typical… not a common choice… but at this point, we should at least consider it."

Spencer studied you, his brown eyes scanning you with curiosity. He always appreciated a fresh perspective, but this time, his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary before shifting back to the map.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric hit you harder this time, making you press your lips together. There was something about the way he always pulled back whenever you got too close that only made you want to push his limits even more.

"It’s a possibility..." he finally said, breaking the silence. "But the pattern is the only solid lead we have right now."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you looked at him, frustrated. "Always so logical, Doctor."

"It’s my job," he replied without looking up, his attention still on the papers.

"And it’s also what keeps you safe, isn’t it?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"You hide behind logic, Spencer," you said, leaning forward. "It’s your shield. But some things aren’t logical—you can’t just avoid them because they scare you."

He blinked, caught off guard by your bluntness, but before he could respond, you pushed yourself up from your chair. "I’m getting coffee. Do you want anything?"

He shook his head but didn’t say anything else. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his eyes on your back, and it only made you want to turn around and challenge him again.

"I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you thought, clenching your fists as you made your way to the coffee machine.

The words you had thrown at Spencer still echoed in your mind as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing. You had crossed a line, and while you didn’t regret it, you knew he wouldn’t just let it slide.

Back in the conference room, Spencer was exactly where you had left him—except his posture had changed. His back was stiff against the chair, and his pen, usually in constant motion, lay motionless on his notebook. When you closed the door behind you, he looked up, his expression more guarded than usual.

"What was that all about?" His tone was colder than you expected.

"What was what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you walked closer.

"That whole thing about me hiding behind logic." Spencer stood up to face you, adjusting his glasses. "I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but if this has anything to do with—"

"—you and me," you interrupted, setting your coffee down on the table with more force than necessary. "That’s exactly what it has to do with."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue. But instead, he looked away, his gaze dropping back to the papers. "There is no 'you and me,' Y/N. This is work, and the only thing that matters is solving this case."

The way he said it—so sharp, so final—should have made you back off. But instead, it only fueled something inside you, a need to break through that carefully crafted façade of perfection.

"Are you really going to keep pretending you don’t feel anything, Reid?" you asked, stepping closer. "That you don’t notice how the air changes when we’re in the same room?"

"What I notice," he started, pushing himself up from his chair, "is that you’re crossing lines you shouldn’t be crossing."

"That you want to want me, but you can't let go," you thought as you watched him. You could see the way his self-control tightened, as if every word was a struggle to hold his ground.

"Maybe those lines shouldn’t be there," you said softly, taking another step forward. You were close enough now to catch the light, clean scent of his cologne.

"Y/N, stop..." His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.

"I can’t stop." You moved even closer, forcing him to step back until his back met the wall. "And neither can you, so stop trying."

He lifted his hands slightly, as if to create some invisible barrier between you, but his eyes betrayed the war raging inside him. "This isn’t right," he said, his voice laced with an intensity that almost made you hesitate. "We can’t do this. I can’t do this."

But he didn’t move away. His hands remained raised—but he didn’t touch you, didn’t push you back. His eyes stayed locked on yours, and the tension in his body was almost tangible.

"Then say it," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want—"

His lips parted, like he was about to say the words. But nothing came out. Instead, his breathing quickened, and his hands slowly dropped to his sides.

"That’s what I thought," you said, your tone victorious but laced with quiet softness.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering every ounce of willpower. "This is a mistake," he murmured finally.

"Maybe." You leaned in just enough so that your face was inches from his. "But some mistakes are worth making."

Spencer took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, but it wasn’t working. "This can’t happen," he said more firmly, stepping to the side to put space between you. "Not just because it would be inappropriate, but because… because it wouldn’t work."

You followed him, moving back into his path, challenging every barrier he tried to put up. "It wouldn’t work? Or you don’t want it to work because it would complicate your perfect, structured life?"

"It’s not that!" The words came out too fast, too forceful. He immediately glanced toward the door, as if worried someone else might have heard. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "This isn’t about avoiding complications. It’s about doing the right thing."

"And what if the right thing doesn’t feel right?" you challenged, tilting your head.

"Then we ignore it," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest as if that could shield him from the weight of your words.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric echoed in your mind, giving you the push to take this one step further.

"You’re not as good at lying to yourself as you think, Spencer," you said, stepping closer again. "Not with me."

"Y/N," he murmured, and this time, there was something almost pleading in his tone. "Please, don’t make this harder."

"Harder for who? You?" You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because for me, this is simple. I know what I want. And what I want is standing right in front of me."

The color in his cheeks deepened, but his posture remained rigid. "It's not that simple," he said, though his voice no longer carried the same conviction.

"Why not? Why are you afraid of feeling something you can’t control? Why won’t you admit that you’re already feeling it?"

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, Spencer stepped back, putting the smallest but most significant distance between you.

"I can’t do this," he said, his voice low, as if each word drained his energy. "Not with you. Not now. I’m sorry."

Disappointment tangled with frustration, but you knew he wasn’t running because he felt nothing. He was running because he felt too much.

"Fine. Have it your way," you finally said, stepping back. "I won’t push you anymore. I just... I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. If you’re ever ready… tell me. But I won’t wait forever."

Spencer looked at you, his eyes reflecting the war within him, the battle he couldn’t put into words. He didn’t stop you as you gathered your things and walked out of the room.

Out in the hallway, you leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. "I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you murmured to yourself, letting the song finish the sentence you couldn’t say out loud.

—

The hotel room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the small bedside lamp. You had tried to distract yourself with case reports, but the words on the screen blurred into meaninglessness. Every time you closed your eyes, the confrontation replayed in your mind: the conflict in Spencer’s gaze, the way he said no… but also how he hadn’t been able to step away until the very last second.

"Unlike the others, I'd do anything."

The lyrics echoed in your head like a taunt, mocking your attempts to stay calm.

You got up from the bed, unable to stay still. There was something suffocating in the air, a mixture of regret and longing that kept you moving, as if pacing back and forth could silence the thoughts running wild in your head.

Across the hall, Spencer sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His hair was a mess, his glasses sitting on the table beside the phone. He hadn’t even tried to sleep—how could he, after what had happened?

He had gone over every word, every look, searching for a logical angle, a way to make sense of what had transpired. But there was no logic that could save him from what he felt: guilt, yes, but also an unrelenting desire burning beneath his skin.

"This can’t happen," he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud could make it true. But even as he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the door, as if something—someone—on the other side was pulling him in.

At some point during the night, your paths crossed again. Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was inevitable. When you opened your door to step out for some air, you found him in the hallway, his face pale, his eyes dark.

"Spencer," you whispered.

"I needed… to walk," he said, though it was obvious he was looking for something more than that.

Silence stretched between you, thick with everything neither of you dared to say.

Until finally, he shook his head. "I shouldn’t be here."

"But you are." You took a step closer.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, both of you stood frozen, caught in a place with no turning back.

"It’s too much," he admitted in a breath, his voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know how to handle it."

"You don’t have to handle it," you murmured, stepping close enough that he could feel your warmth. "Just… go with it."

Spencer didn’t move, as if fighting every instinct in his body. But when he finally looked up at you, there were no more defenses in his eyes—only raw, consuming desire.

"I can't keep pretending," he murmured, stepping toward you.

"Then don’t," you whispered.

The space between you disappeared in an instant. His mouth found yours with a desperation that stole your breath, his hands gripping your face as if afraid you’d vanish. Spencer had always been methodical, in control—but in that moment, there was none of that. He was pure fire, everything he had suppressed finally unleashed.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as you stumbled backward into the room. The door slammed shut behind you, but you barely noticed. All that mattered was the weight of his body pressing against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, the low, ragged sounds escaping his throat.

"This is insane," he muttered against your skin, though his lips kept moving along your neck.

"I think you need a little insanity," you teased, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back with a frantic kind of urgency.

For Spencer, this moment felt like crossing a line he had never thought he would. But in the end, he realized he had been standing on the edge of that line since the moment he met you.

The air was thick, heavy with heat. His breath mingled with yours, uneven, as his lips traced your neck, alternating between kisses and gentle bites that made your head spin.

"This isn’t—" he started, his voice a whisper against your skin. But there was something desperate in the way he touched you, as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that this wasn’t just a dream.

There was no time for more words. Spencer’s logic, his self-control, his professionalism—everything unraveled. With a near-violent impulse, you pushed him toward the bed. Clothes—an obstacle neither of you could ignore—began to fall away between kisses and gasps. Every movement was a battle, a push and pull between his deeply ingrained restraint and the undeniable force of desire. But now, in this space, nothing was holding him back.

Your body burned under his touch, and though he tried to keep his distance, his hands betrayed him, exploring every inch of you, his palm gliding over your torso, down to your waist, as if he was finally allowing himself to have you. This wasn’t the distant, controlled Spencer you had known. This was a man on the edge—of need, of madness—consumed by what he felt for you.

"Y/N," he whispered between kisses, his voice raw, as if clinging to your name was the only thing grounding him. "This... I can't..."

You didn’t let him finish. You silenced him with a kiss, deep and hungry, and he laughed into your mouth. There was no case to solve, no walls left to break down. Just the need to be together, no more excuses.

With a determined move, you pushed him back, taking control, feeling the way he yielded under your touch. Spencer was completely in your hands, and for the first time, he didn’t seem to want to fight it. His grip on your back tightened, pulling you against him as if he needed the physical connection, the proof that this was real.

"I don’t know if I can handle what I feel," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. But when his hands found your face and he kissed you with a raw, burning intensity, it no longer mattered what he thought.

You moved with him, and the world blurred away. The softness of the bed beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire across your skin... The rhythm between you was frantic, yet tender, as if both of you were trying to prove that this wasn’t a mistake, not like Spencer had tried to convince himself before.

Spencer paused for a moment, breathless, exhausted, looking down at you. "Y/N..." Everything was clear in that instant.

"Yes," you whispered, cupping his face, pulling him closer. And in that kiss, nothing else mattered. No words were needed. Everything between you finally made sense.

When the morning light filtered into the room, the silence between you had shifted. Spencer lay beside you, staring at the ceiling as if searching for patterns, lost in thought. Reality had changed—you had changed—and you both knew it. His mind was running a thousand miles per hour.

"I can’t... I can’t promise this won’t get complicated," Spencer murmured, his voice quiet but filled with the resistance that defined him.

"You don’t have to promise anything," you said, turning to face him, resting a hand on his chest, gentle. "What, you expect this to be easy? That sounds boring." You teased.

He gave a subtle, lopsided smile, and somehow it put him at ease, helping him come to terms with the situation.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of you knew what would come next, but for now, all you could do was accept it. The tension that had defined your relationship until now had transformed into something else entirely.

"You know you got me burning up, baby."

· Requests via DM ·

[cloudyluun]

Rewrite The Stars | Patreon Series

famous actor!harry x famous actor!reader

New series out now on Patreon!

Series Summary: Y/N and Harry had a one-night stand that went horribly wrong. Now, they’re starring in a romance film together—and the studio wants them to fake date for PR. Between past regrets, scripted passion, and way too much unresolved tension, pretending gets a little too real.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Rewrite The Stars Chapter 1 | Teaser

Summary: Y/N and Harry had a one-night stand that ended in disaster, and now they’re forced to play soulmates on screen—and fake date off-screen. Between scripted kisses, red carpets, and unresolved sexual tension, things spiral fast. Cue the angst, smut, and emotionally constipated idiots.

A/N: Look, I love a good “ex-lovers forced to fake date” trope almost as much as I love making Harry suffer with feelings. This is messy, steamy, and full of bad decisions. Enjoy watching these two idiots pretend they’re not in love. 😌

Word Count: 3,7k

Warnings:

Angst (like, so much angst)

Fake dating shenanigans

Smut (desperate, messy, emotionally charged)

Swearing & sexual tension at unhealthy levels

Poor communication (they are DUMB)

Flashbacks to bad decisions

Mentions of alcohol (drunken one-night stand)

Tabloid gossip & PR manipulation

Harry looking stupidly good in a suit (a warning in itself)

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The studio conference room is buzzing with quiet conversations, papers rustling, and the occasional scrape of a chair against polished hardwood. Y/N steps inside, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, her pulse thrumming in her ears. It’s nothing. Just another table read. Just another job.

And then she sees him.

Harry Styles is leaning against the far end of the long mahogany table, deep in conversation with Sofia Laurent. His profile is sharp in the golden morning light streaming through the windows, his expression unreadable. He laughs at something the director says, and it sends an uncomfortable heat crawling up Y/N’s spine.

She hasn’t seen him in over a year.

Not since that night.

The memories slam into her without warning—a wrap party, too much champagne, his voice low and teasing in her ear, his hands finding her waist as they stumbled into the dimly lit corridor of their hotel. The way he kissed her like he had been waiting for it forever. The way she let him. Tangled sheets, desperate touches, whispered names in the dark. And then the morning after—him sitting on the edge of the bed, already pulling his jeans back on, raking a hand through his messy curls. The silence that stretched between them like a chasm.

His cold, distant text hours later: Last night was a mistake. Let’s not make this a thing.

Y/N had responded with nothing but a thumbs-up emoji. Then she’d blocked his number.

Now, he’s right in front of her, and there’s no blocking, no ignoring. Just a long, inevitable collision waiting to happen.

She forces a smile, smoothing a hand down her sweater as she moves toward an empty seat. Someone’s already put name placards at each spot. Of course, hers is directly across from Harry’s.

He looks up as she slides into her chair. Their eyes meet.

Something flickers in his gaze—recognition, hesitation, something she refuses to name. Then it’s gone, and he nods in greeting, cool and professional.

“Morning,” he says. Like he’s speaking to a colleague. Like he doesn’t remember every inch of her skin under his hands.

Y/N swallows down the bitterness rising in her throat. “Morning.”

Sofia claps her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get started! We’re diving in with the final scene today. I want to establish the emotional stakes right away.”

A production assistant starts handing out script copies. Y/N flips hers open, her fingers tightening around the pages when she sees what’s in front of her.

EMILIA: “It’s always been you.”

LUCA: “Then stay.”

(They kiss. It’s desperate, raw. Years of longing unravel in one final embrace.)

Y/N can feel Harry’s gaze on her before she even looks up. When she does, his expression is unreadable, but his grip on the script is just a little too tight.

Everyone is watching. Waiting.

Sofia leans forward, smiling. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Y/N exhales slowly. They have no choice but to dive in.

Except she already has—just not here, not in this room full of watchful eyes and murmured instructions. No, she’s already drowning, slipping under waves of memory that pull her back to that night.

It had been inevitable. The tension had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. It lingered in stolen glances on set, in the way their banter teetered on the edge of something sharper, something that made her pulse race.

But that night? That was when it finally snapped.

The wrap party had been a blur of flashing lights, clinking glasses, and too much champagne. She remembered the way Harry had watched her from across the room, half-smirking, half-serious. She’d pretended not to notice, even as her body betrayed her, drawn to him like some gravitational pull she couldn’t fight.

They’d danced. Not together, not at first. But close enough that when she turned, she could feel the heat of him at her back, the ghost of his breath against her skin.

And then the teasing started.

"Didn’t know you could move like that," he'd murmured against the shell of her ear, his voice thick with something that made her toes curl in her heels.

She’d turned to face him, lifting a brow. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

His eyes had darkened at that. "Yeah?"

One more drink. One more shared smirk. One more second of letting the tension coil tighter and tighter until neither of them could stand it anymore.

They’d barely made it out of the venue before it exploded.

A rushed exit. A slammed hotel door.

Clothes peeling away between frantic, breathless kisses.

Harry had been different that night—possessive, desperate. His hands mapped her body like he was trying to memorize her, his lips tracing a path down her throat, her collarbone, lower. She could still hear his voice, raspy and wrecked against her skin.

"You feel so good."

"Been wanting this for so long."

She’d been lost in him, in the way he made her feel like the center of the universe. But when morning came, the warmth was gone.

She’d woken up to sunlight filtering through the hotel curtains, stretching out across sheets that were already cooling beside her.

Harry had been sitting at the edge of the bed, half-dressed, running a hand through his curls.

Something in his posture had been different. Stiff. Guarded.

She’d wanted to reach for him, to trace her fingers along his spine, to whisper something to break the silence.

But before she could, he’d spoken.

"Let’s not make this a thing."

Just like that. No hesitation. No second thought.

Then he’d stood, buttoned his jeans, and walked out the door.

Y/N had stared at the empty space he left behind, the ghost of his touch still burning on her skin. She’d told herself it didn’t matter. That it had just been a mistake. That it hadn’t meant anything.

But then, three days later, she’d seen the pictures.

Harry Styles, arm draped around some model, grinning for the cameras like that night had never happened.

And now, sitting across from him, script clutched in her hands, she wonders how the hell she’s supposed to pretend it still doesn’t hurt.

She doesn’t have long to dwell on it.

The read-through begins, and like clockwork, she and Harry slip into their roles. The dialogue flows, their voices weaving together effortlessly, but it’s the way they look at each other—the tension thick, electric—that makes everyone in the room take notice.

It shouldn’t surprise her. Their chemistry has always been undeniable, even before that night. It was why they were cast together in the first place. But now, it feels different. More loaded.

He delivers his lines with the same careful precision he always does, but his eyes linger too long, his throat bobs when she leans too close. Her pulse quickens, betraying her.

When they reach the final scene—the kiss—Sofia watches them closely, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair.

Afterward, as the room empties out for a break, a couple of the studio execs murmur to each other before motioning for her and Harry to stay behind.

The door closes.

“We need to talk,” Sofia says, exchanging a look with the executives.

Y/N folds her arms, already bracing herself. “That’s never a good start.”

One of the execs, a tall man in an expensive suit, steps forward. “We need buzz around this movie. There’s already speculation about you two. We want to lean into that.”

Y/N frowns. “What kind of speculation?”

Another exec, a woman in a sleek black dress, smirks. “Oh, come on. The tension? The history? The way you two look at each other?” She tilts her head. “People think there’s something real there. We think it’s good for the film.”

Y/N scoffs, crossing her arms. “You want us to fake date?”

“Not just fake date,” the man clarifies. “We want the world to believe you’re soulmates. We want red carpets, Instagram posts, candid moments. Full package.”

Y/N shakes her head, the absurdity of it all making her chest tighten. “Are you serious? That’s—”

“Fine.”

Her head snaps toward Harry so fast she almost gives herself whiplash.

He’s standing next to her, hands in his pockets, looking entirely unaffected.

Y/N blinks. “What?”

“We’ll do it.” His voice is steady, final.

She stares at him, stunned. He won’t even look at her.

The deal is made before she can even process it. The studio execs beam, Sofia claps her hands together, and within minutes, their PR team is already setting the plan in motion. By the time Y/N steps outside the meeting room, her phone is buzzing with an email outlining their first official appearance as Hollywood’s hottest new couple.

The Venice Film Festival.

Three weeks later, she stands in front of her hotel mirror, smoothing down the silky fabric of her dress. The deep emerald slip hugs her in all the right places, skimming over curves in a way that should make her feel powerful. Instead, her stomach is twisted in knots.

A sharp knock at the door makes her jump.

She exhales, then opens it.

Harry stands in the hallway, devastatingly gorgeous in a perfectly tailored black suit. The crisp lines, the slightly unbuttoned shirt, the rings that catch in the soft light—unfair.

His gaze drags over her, slow and unreadable.

"You ready?" His voice is even, detached.

"Do I have a choice?" she mutters, grabbing her clutch.

He doesn’t answer.

The red carpet is a blur of flashing lights, shouted questions, and the ever-present hum of cameras capturing their every move.

Y/N can feel the heat of Harry’s hand on the small of her back as they step into the crowd, can hear the low murmurs of speculation from reporters lined along the velvet ropes. She lifts her chin, slipping into the role expected of her—one half of Hollywood’s most talked-about on-screen lovers, now supposedly together in real life.

Harry leans in slightly, voice just above a whisper.

“Smile, love.”

The way he says it—low, smooth, his accent curling around the words—sends a shiver down her spine.

She forces one. It looks real.

The cameras love them, and the world is eating it up. The flicker of their fingers brushing together, the easy way he laughs at something she pretends to say, the way his eyes drop to her lips like they’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

And then, the questions start.

“Harry, Y/N—are you two dating?”

“You look very comfortable together.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but Harry beats her to it.

“We’re lucky to have found each other.”

The words roll off his tongue smoothly, like he actually believes them.

Y/N swallows, gripping the fabric of her dress.

By the time they’re back in the car, her phone is already blowing up. Twitter is in flames. The headlines are everywhere.

HARRY STYLES AND Y/N CONFIRM THEIR ROMANCE AT VENICE FILM FESTIVAL.

LUCA AND EMILIA, BUT MAKE IT REAL.

The internet explodes.

Her notifications are a wildfire, consuming every corner of her phone. Harry Styles and Y/N CONFIRM their romance at Venice Film Festival. The chemistry is REAL. Fan edits, speculation, analysis of every touch, every glance.

But none of it is real.

And she’s seething.

That night, Y/N storms through the dimly lit hallway of Harry’s hotel floor, fists clenched at her sides. She barely takes a breath before pounding on his door.

It swings open almost immediately.

Harry stands there, now stripped of his red-carpet polish. His suit jacket is gone, shirt half-unbuttoned, tattoos peeking through the undone fabric. His curls are messier than they were hours ago, like he’s been running his hands through them.

“Y/N,” he sighs, already sounding exasperated.

She pushes past him, stepping into the spacious hotel suite. “What the hell was that?”

He exhales heavily, shutting the door behind them. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

She spins to face him. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the way you told the entire world we’re together without even discussing it with me first?”

He shrugs, undoing the cuffs of his sleeves. “You want this movie to succeed, don’t you?”

Her jaw clenches. “Don’t act like you’re doing this for the movie.” She takes a step closer, glaring up at him. “You’re doing it because it’s convenient.”

Harry’s expression shifts, something flickering behind his eyes—something dark. He mirrors her step forward, closing the distance between them.

“And you’re not?”

Her breath catches. The air between them thickens, electric. His voice is lower now, rougher, and his gaze flickers between her eyes and her mouth.

“You don’t get to act like you care now,” she forces out, but it sounds weaker than she intends.

Silence.

His jaw clenches, and something snaps in his expression.

“You think I don’t care?” His voice is quiet, but there’s something dangerous in it, something raw.

She doesn’t get the chance to answer.

Because suddenly, Harry is on her.

His hands find her face, his mouth crashes into hers, and whatever fight they were having burns away instantly.

It’s all heat, all frustration—pent-up anger bleeding into something dangerous, something intoxicating.

Harry backs her up until she collides with the dresser, the sharp edge pressing into her lower back. His hands find her waist, fingers digging into the silk of her dress, and he lifts her onto the cool wood like she weighs nothing.

Y/N gasps, gripping his shoulders, nails biting into his skin through his half-unbuttoned shirt.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she whispers, even though she knows it’s a lie.

Harry exhales a sharp laugh, lips ghosting along her jaw before he nips at the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

“Say that again.” His voice is low, thick, dripping with something smug—something dangerous.

She doesn’t. Because she can’t.

Not when his hands are already pushing her dress up, fabric bunching around her thighs. Not when his fingers are dragging up the bare skin of her legs, slow, purposeful, teasing.

Not when she’s already aching for more.

Her breath stutters as he palms the inside of her thigh, pushing her legs wider. He’s watching her now, eyes dark, hungry, waiting for her to stop him.

She doesn’t.

His fingers skim higher, over the lace of her underwear, pressing against the damp heat there.

“You hate me, don’t you?” His voice is softer now, coaxing, but there’s something else layered beneath it. Something vulnerable.

She should say yes.

But then he pushes the lace aside and slides a single finger through her slick folds, teasing at her entrance before dipping inside, and her only answer is a sharp gasp.

His lips curl against her skin.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth along the line of her throat. “That’s what I thought.”

She clenches her jaw, refusing to give him anything more, but it’s impossible when he moves his fingers so deliberately, so expertly. Curling, twisting, stroking that spot inside her that makes her thighs shake.

Her head falls back against the mirror behind her, exposing more of her throat to his lips, his teeth. He takes advantage of it, sucking a mark into her skin as he works her open, one finger turning into two, his thumb circling her clit just enough to make her hips jerk.

“Harry,” she chokes out.

He hums, pleased.

She doesn’t realize she’s gripping his arm until his muscles flex beneath her fingertips, his bicep taut as he keeps her steady. Her entire body is trembling, the coil inside her winding so tight, pleasure mounting too quickly for her to stop it.

And he knows.

He knows exactly how close she is, how desperate she’s becoming, how much she needs him.

But he doesn’t let her have it yet.

Instead, he withdraws his fingers, slow and deliberate, watching her reaction like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

Her lips part in protest, but before she can speak, he’s undoing his belt with one hand, shoving his trousers down just enough.

His cock is already hard, flushed and leaking, and when he grips himself, stroking slowly, she nearly whimpers at the sight.

“This what you want?” His voice is rough, teasing, but there’s something else behind it—something just as desperate.

She doesn’t answer.

She just grabs his face and kisses him again, hard, as she hooks her legs around his waist, dragging him in.

Harry groans into her mouth, lining himself up, and then—

He thrusts forward, filling her in one slow, deep stroke.

Y/N gasps, fingers digging into his back.

He stills for a moment, forehead pressing to hers, breathing heavy.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “So tight.”

She swallows hard, barely able to think, barely able to breathe as he pulls back and thrusts in again.

And then again.

And again.

His grip on her tightens, hands curling around her thighs as he sets a steady rhythm, each roll of his hips perfectly precise, perfectly deep, like he needs her to feel every inch of him.

Like he wants to ruin her.

The dresser rocks beneath them, the sound of skin against skin filling the hotel room.

It’s fast, desperate, filthy.

And yet—

It’s also slow. Lingering. Drawn out in a way that makes her chest ache.

He leans in, pressing his lips to her shoulder, her throat, breathing her in like he doesn’t want to let go.

And that’s what makes this different.

Not the way he fucks her, but the way he holds her.

The way his hand comes up to cup her jaw, tilting her head to look at him as he thrusts deep one final time, the coil inside her snapping, her body shattering apart around him.

The way he follows right after, groaning her name into her skin as he spills inside her.

Afterward, the room is quiet, save for the heavy rise and fall of their breaths.

Y/N lies tangled in the sheets, barely able to process what just happened.

She waits for him to leave.

Because that’s what he did last time.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he stays.

Y/N barely sleeps.

She should, after the way he wrecked her—after the way they wrecked each other. But her body won’t let her, still thrumming with adrenaline, oversensitive and restless even as exhaustion weighs her limbs down.

It’s not just the sex.

It’s the way he’s still here.

The way his arm is heavy around her waist, pinning her to the mattress. The way his slow, steady breaths tickle the back of her neck. The way his fingers, even in sleep, twitch against her skin, as if his body refuses to stop touching her.

The last time this happened, he left before she could even open her eyes.

Now, she’s the one who wants to leave first.

Déjà vu.

She stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours before she finally moves. Careful, slow, untangling herself from his grasp as gently as she can. His arm is heavy, muscles flexing even in sleep, and she has to hold her breath as she lifts it off of her.

When she’s finally free, she exhales. Swings her legs over the edge of the bed.

Her dress is still on the floor, a heap of silk puddled near the dresser. She moves toward it, keeping her steps light, mindful of every shift in the sheets behind her.

Almost there.

She bends down, fingers just brushing the fabric—

“Don’t.”

Her heart stops.

His voice is hoarse, thick with sleep, a quiet rasp in the dimly lit hotel room.

She freezes.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of her dress, but she doesn’t lift it. Doesn’t turn around.

“Y/N,” he says again, softer this time.

Her breath comes shallow, uneven. She forces herself to stand upright, forces herself to steady her voice.

“I should go.”

Silence.

Then, the rustling of sheets, the mattress shifting.

She doesn’t have to look to know he’s sitting up.

“I don’t want you to.”

It’s barely above a whisper. Like he doesn’t want to say it out loud, doesn’t want to give it power.

Her throat tightens.

Last time, he didn’t say anything at all.

Last time, she woke up to cold sheets and an unreadable text hours later.

Now, he’s asking her to stay.

And she doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

Slowly, she turns around.

Harry is watching her, propped up on one arm, hair a mess of curls, lips still swollen from kissing her. His eyes—greener in the dim light—stay locked onto hers, searching.

She grips the dress tighter.

“I don’t know what this is,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry exhales, running a hand over his face. “Me neither.”

She nods once, lips pressing together. The moment stretches, tense and fragile, like one wrong move could shatter it completely.

He shifts again, swings his legs over the side of the bed. “But I know I don’t want it to be like last time.”

Her chest tightens.

And for the first time since that night over a year ago, she lets herself wonder—

If maybe… just maybe…

He doesn’t either.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

If you love angst, tension-filled romance, and two idiots pretending they’re not in love, Rewrite the Stars is for you!