#you'll have to argue PRETTY well to get me to believe that one

[llycaons]

If only Jiang Fengmian could have seen this. Seen what a great fucking sect leader Jiang Cheng is

hilarious to imply jiang fengmian would ever be proud of his son 2. IS HE THOUGH

[writerpeach]

Provocation

ITZY Shin Yuna x m!reader

15k words

“That’s not true,” Yuna argues, arms folded as if this is the most ludicrous thing she's had to explain. "Despite what everyone thinks, I don't sleep around. Maybe a few guys on the weekends, but during the week? I like to have a one-guy policy."

You don't believe her one bit—but you'll play along. "Just one guy? That's it?"

Yuna shrugs her shoulders. "Of course. One guy at a time. One guy on Monday—maybe Tuesday. And Wednesday. That's it."

"That's three, Yuna," you laugh, shifting in your seat to face her a bit more. She takes a sip of her drink, stirring it around before bringing it back up to her pouty, red lips—the ones that cause nothing but trouble.

"Exactly. A different guy each day of the week. I don't think that's a lot. If anything, Yeji gets around way more than me."

Now you know she's lying.

The way you can tell is when her lips move. That's the telltale sign. When a word slips out between them, you always know the words will be objectively false. 

Because this is Shin Yuna, the girl who flaunts every facet of her beauty like it's her job. This is the girl who wears skirts short enough to flash the entire bar a glimpse of her perfect little ass. The one who always leaves the house wearing a bra on purpose, her top always sheer enough to show the shape of her perky breasts. The same girl who would give head to a random guy just because he asked for a stick of gum.

"Yeji? Are we talking about the same girl?" you question, doubting that girl would even have a quarter the sex that Yuna has in one night. Yeji's definitely attractive, but reserved and soft spoken—nothing like the track record Yuna has.

"Hey, don't get it twisted," Yuna protests, nearly spilling some drink when she sets her glass down. "Yeji isn't some innocent church girl. She's a lot hornier than people think. Almost too much. As much as she acts all pure and sweet and innocent, she's a freak."

You'd say you believe her, except it's Yuna—so it's not probable in the slightest. "Right. She's totally a freak and you're an absolute saint."

"Glad we're on the same page." Yuna grins, stealing your drink to take a sip without even asking, leaving those red lips staining the rim of the glass. "She's more insatiable than me."

"I think you've had a little too much to drink, Yuna.” 

Yuna ignores you entirely. "I mean it—that girl is probably getting dicked down as we speak. Or if she isn't, then she's got a new vibrator that's getting the job done, watching some of the most depraved porn out there. That girl is obsessed."

"Obsessed with dick or obsessed with porn?"

"Both. You can't imagine some of the toys she has hidden."

Yuna keeps speaking, but she could say anything at this point, and you know there wouldn’t be an ounce of truth in it. She's gotten more than a couple drinks deep now. And her tight skirt rides up, each not-so-subtle movement revealing more thigh as she shifts, not even the slightest concerned who can see underneath.

"If she's a freak, what the hell does that make you, then?" you ask in all earnest, trying to change the subject, because Yuna clearly can't be trusted around alcohol. This girl and oversharing go together far too well.

"Me? Oh, I'm the best fuck of your life—the one who will choke on your cock like a goddamn whore and let you blow your load all over my pretty face." 

You don’t even look at her when you reply. "Forget I ever asked." 

"But you did ask. And now you're going to take me home so I can demonstrate exactly what I do to those poor, pathetic boys every weekend."

"Absolutely not. I don't recall making an invitation."

"Do I need one? Doesn't feel like it," Yuna asks, with a quick tilt of her head. "Doesn't daddy wanna spend all night fucking this tight little pussy?"

You nearly vomit hearing Yuna's poor attempt at seduction. "Stop it. Please, for the love of god, don't ever call me that again."

She simply laughs it off, leaning close as she rests a hand on your thigh, those nimble little fingers giving a good squeeze, when it wanders just a little too high. 

"Come on," she insists. "The second you’ve got your cock inside me, you know there won't be any pulling out. Daddy won't be able to control himself."

"I'm leaving you here. Take a cab if you have to," you warn, standing up from the barstool without even the slightest look back in her direction.

Yuna sighs. “Okay, fine,” she says as she grabs your wrist, keeping you from going very far. "I won't call you that anymore. Just take me home and fuck my brains out. Please?"

That voice, the desperation, it's hard to resist. Not to mention the pleading look, those big, round eyes staring, and when your focus falls down her shirt, barely even a shirt, the curves on this girl she dares to flaunt in your face. Yuna wants you to know that you'd be a fool to turn her down.

"What's in it for me? Aren't there plenty of guys lining up for a chance to fuck you here?" 

"This place is boring—and none of them can handle me." 

You're not even sure you can handle this girl and her attitude, but when Yuna stares like that, this longing look that begs for attention—it's difficult to say no. "Are you saying that just because you want a ride home?"

"It's a reason, yes." She can't hold back the smile, no matter how hard she tries. "You take me home, and then I'll suck your cock until your legs give out. Won't you help this poor, helpless little slut?"

Against your better judgment, there’s this temptation you can’t ignore. A devil resting on your shoulder, and on the other side, also a devil in the form of Shin Yuna herself. You can’t refuse that smile, those batting eyelashes, or those eyes without a hint of innocence in them. You’re already a lost cause. 

Yuna can’t help but smirk, seeing her prey lured in with such ease as she grabs her coat, one hand slipping in yours, and not even needing a response when the both of you know where this is heading. "No more daddy—that's a promise."

You don’t believe that for a second, but you also don't care one bit as you head out, Yuna clinging to your arm on the way to the parking lot. 

And this might be your biggest mistake yet. 

Neither of you even make it out of the parking garage to your apartment. Yuna has you backed up against the cold, concrete wall, in a dark corner that she swears doesn't have a camera—but even if it does, who fucking cares when the sight of her on her knees takes precedence, getting your cock wet between her lips as fast as possible.

And the sound of her greedy slurps echo off those same walls, somehow a thousand times louder than usual. 

"You know my apartment is right up there," you manage to say in between gasping breaths. Yuna's barely listening, staring straight into your eyes, with her cheeks hollowed to no end and every inch of your cock taken down so easily. She spits over your length a few more times, spreading it along your hard shaft before her lips swallow you whole, not breaking her gaze once for even a single breath. 

With another loud, sloppy suck with those red lips around the tip of your shaft, that's the only time she answers, a small pop filling the air when she backs off, stroking you slowly with her fist.

"That's two floors up. Why wait, when I can just suck your cock here? That elevator takes ages." she argues innocently, running her tongue underneath that most sensitive area of your shaft. "Unless you really want me to stop—"

"N-no. Fuck, no. Don't you fucking dare." 

"That's what I thought,” Yuna replies, and she has no intention to, burying her nose in your abdomen with every last inch consumed by her warm throat. And her wet mouth gets so noisy, so starved, these desperate slurps that could probably be heard all the way to the top floor of the parking garage. 

It's so completely Yuna: her lack of restraint, the enthusiasm as she bobs her head in a blur without any sign of a gag reflex. The way her lips tighten around your shaft and stay there for an eternity without pulling off even for a second, like she needs your cock down her throat for survival. It’s goddamn relentless. 

“God, Yuna, this fucking mouth—" you curse under your breath and place a hand on her head for guidance, wondering how the fuck Yuna manages to take so much at once while looking so beautiful at the same time. It's her lips wrapped around every inch, the way she stares into you, her lipstick all smeared along the base of your shaft with a fresh layer of spit glistening along the length of it. "Why the hell is your mouth so good at this?” 

It's a compliment that's only going to feed that inflated ego, as if that's even possible at this point. But you can't hold back the praise, when her lips feel this incredible, wrapped so tight with all the warm, wet suction you can handle, taking you back into the deep end of her throat like nothing. 

"I’ve told you…” Yuna starts with this smug little grin as she draws out every reaction she can out of your features with a messy kiss to your swollen cockhead. "Suck enough dick, and you have it down to a science. Nobody gives head better than me. Not Yeji, not a single person you've met."

Can’t say you find any fault with that, for once. The rare occasion when Yuna speaks the truth, with how good her mouth feels on you, slurping away to get these groans spilling that reinforces her point. How could anybody come close? 

“Don’t let it get to your head.” 

“Too late,” she says, with her playful little chuckle when you escape from the heat of her mouth. She continues to pump her fingers along every spit-soaked inch that sets you on edge, slowing down only so she can drag it out, savor the look of desperation etched across your face. Then she’s right back down, lips flush to your base in no time. 

“Shit, those fucking lips feel so good. Who knew you had any other skill other than being an obnoxious fucking brat.” 

Yuna doesn't even fight you for that one, giving your length a sloppy kiss, before sliding her mouth down to latch around your balls and suck hard. A tight fist strokes quicker than before, twisting so perfectly while her mouth is occupied, a motion that makes you completely unable to hold back the strangled noises that she gets off on. 

It all feels too good, with her full attention devoted to your aching cock that throbs in her fingers, these lewd slurps of your sensitive balls that drive you towards the edge faster when her mouth gets all hot and wet around you.

“F-fuck, fuck, Yuna—“ 

It’s so clear, the sheer enjoyment written across Yuna's features when she pops off your balls with a loud, wet pop. and then gets your cock right back in her mouth where it belongs.

There’s no stopping her this time—not when she gets a good grip on your thighs for support, so she can slobber on your cock with reckless abandon. A fucking shameless display, saliva dripping down her chin, a messy string that connects from her lip to the tip of your swollen cockhead while she takes you straight into the back of her throat, again, and again, not taking a breath unless she absolutely needs to. 

And then she’s jerking your cock right in front of her face. 

“Almost ready to cum for me, aren’t you? Don't you wanna fucking finish all over my pretty face? Don't you like how nice it looks when I'm covered in your thick load?"

Fuck, do you ever—and it doesn't help when Yuna tightens her grip and gives these rapid strokes that have your head spinning. All you can do is watch as she furiously jerks your cock straight towards her gorgeous face, tongue out so eagerly as she awaits every bit you're ready to release.

When it hits, the first explosive burst shoots across her forehead, streaking right over her hair. The rest follows, finding a place splattering all across her face. All over those open pouty lips—hot, sticky spurts that Yuna catches with her tongue as each shot paints a different spot of her features, the excess dribbling down her chin. 

Yuna laughs through it, trying not to close her eyes so she can watch you unload all over her features, a mess that has no end in sight. More hits her cheek, a nice shot across her nose as your cock pulsates in her tight fist, and the hot spurts continue to paint her in white streaks across her flawless face. A final few bursts land across her open mouth, a taste that gets her smiling so wide through a cum-stained mess.

"Fucking christ, Yuna," you exhale, out of breath as the high lingers.

Yuna lets your throbbing cock rest gently against her cheek, your orgasm slow to subside. Even when every last drop is wrung from the tip, she refuses to take her mouth off you, sucking your shaft clean with a few long slurps and flicks of her tongue that make you nearly collapse. 

"Just look at all that fucking cum. I'm covered in it, like a good little slut should be," she marvels, staring at the exhaustion plastered across your face. "Bet that felt good, huh? God, there's like a week's worth of cum here. All milked out of your thick fucking cock."

And Yuna has never looked better. 

"H-hold on, I'll get something to clean that up—"

Yuna gets to her feet, stepping in to shut down the idea before you can finish. "No need. I'll keep it on until we get to your apartment. Plus, I look the prettiest when I'm dripping with your cum."

It's insane—the words this girl will casually throw out in public, and how she wants to spend the entire elevator ride looking like that. Even if it's late enough that hardly anybody uses this elevator, there's always a chance you could run into someone who lives here. But saying no to this girl was never an option, already heading back the direction of the elevator without giving much a chance to argue, much less a chance to slip your pants back on.

Shin Yuna is quite possibly the worst influence—and yet, here you are.

Once she's all cleaned up, it's just pure unadulterated lust, from both ends as you find a spot on the couch to crash into with Yuna straddling you. Not an ounce of innocence in the kiss. Nothing but hot breath and moans, not even a second to break for air. The alcohol, the ride back here, the blowjob in the goddamn parking garage, you can't even contain yourself anymore. You let this girl get to you in the best of ways and give into this sinful temptation with an absolute desire to ruin her.

Yuna groans as you plant these rough, messy kisses along her neck—god, she tastes so good, like strawberries and sin and everything you're addicted to. She writhes under you, fingers tangled through your hair and you're not leaving your lips off her for a single second. 

"Keep doing that, please, f-fuck," Yuna pleads, and you flip her around effortlessly to do so, her tight little body flat on her back underneath you. You leave these marks all down her neck—sucking hard on that sensitive skin so easy to bruise, and sinking your teeth in at every opportunity. All these whimpers fill your ears and the louder they are, the harder you bite, the rougher your kisses grow.

This relentless assault leaves her breathless, an abrupt change from the usual confidence and arrogance that defines her. Right here, under you like this, Yuna makes it so easy to have her body entirely at your mercy—even more when you strip her shirt off and toss it aside, revealing those breasts fully to the chilly air. You barely have time to admire the sight of them before your mouth moves to devour the newly exposed flesh.

"You have no idea all the things I want to do to you, Yuna," you growl as you take a nipple between your lips, a sharp suck and a light nibble that makes her squirm even harder against the couch cushions.

"Like what? Tell me everything you want to do to me, d-daddy—"

You glare up, eyeing her intently and there's this sudden moment of silence while you refuse to get your mouth back onto her tits. 

"S-sorry, it just slipped," she says with this unabashed laughter, her apology as believable as anything else that escapes from those pretty lips. "Every guy I fuck loves hearing that. Force of habit."

"Don't make me leave you on this couch alone, Shin Yuna. Because I'll fucking do it, no hesitation."

"You'll never hear it again, I promise. Never, ever—now come on, back to what you were doing."

You raise a suspicious brow for a moment, but then it's back to your ravenous mouth focusing all over her chest, kissing up all over when you alternate between them. She loves it too—every hot and heavy kiss, every time you lick right at her most sensitive spots, latching onto her stiff nipples and sucking so hard. Yuna grips tightly at the back of your head, her fingers deep in those locks while you devour her tits and enjoy the softness of them against your face, skin flushed when you switch to the other breast.

And god, this sound that escapes her throat—when you travel down her body and kiss her abdomen, these soft little kisses that make her sigh harder and squirm more, getting lower and lower until the fabric of her skirt blocks your progression. It's this whimper from her lips when you swipe your tongue right above her belly button, a slow drag that tastes as much of her as possible.

"Skirt on or off? Your pick." You kiss at the top of her thighs, waiting eagerly for an answer as you toy around with the zipper.

"Whatever d—" she stops herself halfway. "You want. Whatever you want. On. Just fuck me with it on—can't wait, need you between my thighs already."

Can't say you're disappointed in the decision—pushing her skirt up her thighs to reveal that pretty purple lace that contrasts her pale thighs. But before you have the chance to put her out of her misery, you get a little more comfortable, stripping down to nothing but your boxers while Yuna bites her bottom lip and watches in silence. She keeps staring, wide eyes filled with anticipation as she catches the slightest glimpse of the way you're hard for her already.

"See something you like?" you ask her, Yuna shifting underneath with her skirt neatly bunched up her waist. 

"No, not a single thing," she answers, unable to hide her laughter for a second.

"Good, then I guess I can just go jerk off in my room or something," you tease, about to remove yourself from the couch until her hands lock tight around your shoulders, keeping you planted there.

"Shut the fuck up and eat me out. Can't wait a second more, ruin me with that amazing tongue of yours."

"Not even a please?"

"Absolutely not," Yuna insists, growing more impatient by the second. But it's a good thing you're generous—and more than raring to get between her thighs as much as she needs you to. 

She can hardly contain the noise when you grab the waistband of her panties and drag them down those long legs, Yuna lifting up just slightly to help guide them off. And when they slide past her feet, you don't hesitate one bit, spreading her thighs apart just to admire the sight—exposing her glistening wet cunt in all its glory.

"See something you like?" Yuna echoes your own question right back, flashing a smirk which only fades when you respond with a brief flick of your tongue. 

"Yeah, a perfect place to dump a huge load of cum," you remark back, licking a long stripe up her wet slit before ending in a gentle suck of her clit. "God, you're so fucking wet, Yuna. Dripping like crazy down here."

"Who's fucking fault is that?" 

"Not mine. You're the one who begged me to take you home because you were too scared to find a stranger in the bar to fuck."

The first few long licks do the rest of the talking for you as you bury your head deep between her spread thighs, tongue exploring her deliciously wet pussy. So sweet on your lips the more you taste, a suck of her clit every now and again, these unimpeded moans that can’t help spring free from her lips. 

"F-fuck, oh my fucking—first off, I did not beg. Second, don't pretend like you wouldn't fuck me if I found someone better," Yuna manages to get out mid-way through an absolutely filthy groan, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to push your face against her pussy.

"You're saying you could find someone better than me? In that shitty little dive bar?"

"S-shut up. Your ego's fucking broken," she argues between her desperate moans. You roll your eyes at her and get back to work—watching the way Yuna attempts to cover up her mouth with the palm of her hand. 

"Is that why you're struggling so much not to moan for me? You think any of those drunk idiots at the bar could do what I do to this pretty little pussy?" You're so determined to see her at a loss for words, lapping away at her clit, but that's all this girl brings out of you. It's difficult to play the nice guy when all her lips do is incite a response out of you like this. 

"You talk t-too much. Shut up and eat my cunt, so I can cum on your face already."

That you can do—more than happily. With a hand against her abdomen, Yuna's being pinned to the cushions as your tongue lashes away at her delicious folds to really lap up all her sweetness. It's addictive, the way you suck and lick away, from her swollen clit, right down to the bottom of her glistening wet slit, this intense groan tearing right through her as she locks eyes to watch you devour her cunt.

"Forgot how fucking good you taste—god, you taste fucking amazing.” 

“You forgot? Nobody forgets how good I taste. Not when you're addicted to eating my pussy as much as you are—"

That's a ridiculous enough statement to ignore, but you also can't bear the idea of stopping what you're doing, with your tongue exploring in slow, steady laps of every delicious morsel. Not when the sweet taste of Yuna fills your mouth and threatens to drown out everything else you feel, because she's so damn wet. It's the way your head is trapped between her thighs, keeping you right where she wants, smothering your face with her dripping cunt and forcing your tongue as deep as it can possibly reach. 

"Fucking shit—your mouth, that's so good, god. Fuck, fuck, y-you're gonna make me fucking cum! Don't stop—"

Like you could ever. Not when you have Yuna writhing against the cushions, watching the way her features contort into absolute bliss with just a harsh suck of her clit. 

Her mouth hangs open, head thrown back and the lewd, whiny little moans that you're so familiar with come right out. There's a rhythm of breathing that follows—heavy and erratic the more you try to break this girl. She struggles to even control herself when all she's reduced to is a soaking mess in front of your eyes, grinding against your face, needing to cum more than her next breath.

And that's the perfect opportunity to deny her what she wants so desperately. A split-second pause, watching the lust transform into absolute desperation. 

"N-no, please," she protests, urgency in her voice the second she feels your tongue stop. 

"Something wrong?"

"You ass—don't fucking stop. I said not to stop!" 

That's enough incentive to get back to it, fingers plunging right inside that wet heat to give your mouth a much-needed rest. Which only gives you these drawn-out moans, and fuck—there's not a single thing tighter than Yuna. Two fingers sink in with such ease, so wet, so warm, just taking whatever you'll give her at this rate. Nice and slow at first, so you can admire her reaction as you curl them inside, reaching spots that make her back arch right off the couch. 

"P-please, I'm so fucking close, fuck—"

Now she's begging, needing release at a level that's quite rare to see from Yuna. You pick up the pace, plunging those digits deep inside her sopping wet walls, hitting that same spot that makes her hips jolt so violently. 

"Is this what you needed? Come on, I know you're right fucking there. Fucking cum, Yuna. Cum like the needy little slut you are." 

You're not sure if it's the words that do her in, or the merciless assault of your fingers—both together is what gets the job done, the constant wet squelch that echoes with every furious plunge deep into her slick warmth. It's unmistakable when her cunt gushes around your thrusting fingers—spraying all over your hand, the couch, and god knows what else is just destroyed at this point. 

Yuna turns into a relentless, gushing mess, until she grabs your wrist to keep those fingers moving, filling the air with an even more delicious series of sobs.

Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe it when her body spasms the more you pump into this sensitive little cunt. Your fingers are so drenched, with the juices that spill like a fountain, these choked moans that escape with every thrust. And when that begging for more turns into pleading to stop, you're not interested in withdrawal, not until you wring a second orgasm out, a third, however many it takes for her to finally tap out. 

"S-stop, you're gonna fucking kill me, stop—god, it's just too much," she cries out, every ounce of strength left in her failing. Only do you pull out when Yuna forces your arm away, thighs still quivering in the aftermath as you get a good look of the damage done. Flat on her back, she can hardly move on her own. A mess all along her creamy thighs, along the couch, and who knows where else. 

"My poor couch."

"Your poor couch? What about my poor fucking pussy? Look at what you fucking did, I came like five fucking times—"

Even in the aftermath of an intense, messy climax, Yuna can’t help being Yuna.

"I didn't hear any complaints when you were squirting all over me,” you say, and bring your wet fingers to your lips to suck the delicious taste off. 

"Because your fucking fingers felt so fucking good, you asshole—" Yuna's so worn out, completely unable to do anything but just revel in the mess she's made.  

"You're welcome."

"That wasn't a thank you—oh my fucking god, look at my skirt, you fuck," Yuna groans, eyes shifting to the state bunched up above her waist. 

"This is your fault, don't even start."

"Because you fucking made me ruin it, this is like a $300 skirt!"

"My condolences," you say, without a hint of guilt, the damage to her skirt not even the least of your concerns. Especially when you unzip it to slide it right down her slim figure—revealing every inch of her gorgeous body naked for you to drink in. "Excuse me, princess. However can I make it up to you?"

"Don't fucking call me that," she snaps, and even in her weakened state she's not any easier to deal with. "I'm too tired to ride you right now, so you're just going to have to fuck me until my legs don't work." 

"Still not hearing a please," you remind her, slipping out of your boxers at last, your stiff cock finally freed after seeing Yuna's naked frame laid out so perfectly.

"You can take your please and shove it right up your fucking ass. I'm not saying it."

"Fucking brat," you curse, grabbing her waist to position Yuna right where you want her. "I'll do all the damn work then—you're not going anywhere but into this couch."

"Good, about fucking time."

When she's finally done complaining, her gaze falls back to your rock hard cock aimed at her soaking entrance. You shift forward, a hand on her slender waist for support, the head of your shaft nudging her wet cunt.

"Come on then, I haven't got all night—are you gonna fuck me, or just stare?"

"Yes you do. What the fuck else are you gonna do? Go fuck somebody else you won't even remember the next morning?" Angling yourself just right, you don’t waste a second longer to slide inside, right up to the hilt—feeling that tight, heavenly cunt consume every inch.

"My fucking god, Yuna—"

She's never felt more incredible, or so goddamn tight, impossibly wet, warm—every sensation just overwhelming, getting used to it all over like it's the first time inside her. A feeling that doesn't disappear, even before you move one bit, with these beautiful legs spread wide apart as they'll go.

"Forgot how tight my little pussy was, huh?" she taunts, loving the groans that it pulls from your mouth. "You haven't changed at all. Still have that same cute little face you get when you've got your cock inside me. My pussy just ruins every other girl for you, doesn't it?"

"Too tight, god—why are you so fucking tight? Greedy slut gets pounded by twelve guys a week and still this tight? Fuck—"

"Less talking and more fucking. Move your hips—fuck me like the filthy little whore I am, come on."

Your only response is to get your hands right on both sides of Yuna's tiny waist, sliding outside with just the tip of your cock remaining, before slamming your entire shaft to fill her again. The first thrusts alone have her clutching the couch cushions to brace for more, each one a little rougher, a little deeper, the walls of her cunt clenching so hard the more of your throbbing shaft fills her. 

"Don’t hold back. I wanna feel every inch of that thick fucking cock in my wet little cunt," Yuna breathes out with this demand in her voice. "Come on, harder—ruin my poor little pussy, f-fuck."

"That's the fucking plan." All this tension you've built up between each other has reached its boiling point, the frustration, the annoyance, all coming out here and now. Because once Yuna is under you like this, everything changes, your hips pulling back only to shove in again, a relentless rhythm on repeat. 

"Better be. Why do you even need other girls when my perfect little pussy is always here waiting for your cock? You already have a pretty fucktoy to use, don't you—"

"Yuna, stop fucking talking already," you groan with no patience for anymore of her rambling. "Your schedule is a little booked up right now, in case you haven't noticed."

That's when your thrusts hit without holding back, hard enough to get a reprieve from that bratty attitude—watching her pretty features contort as you keep drilling inside that intoxicating heat. Not letting up once, the sound of her slick pussy soaking every inch of your shaft with every slam fills the room, barely audible over the sound of her loud moans. And that tightness, god—it’s unfathomable, unforgettable, each delicious clench driving your hips so you’ll feel more of it. 

"Then I'll fucking clear my schedule. As long as you promise to fuck me like this—I'll put you in my calendar every fucking day."

That's not exactly the solution, and you can't imagine being with Yuna day in and day out, even if that comes with the prospect of having access to this pretty, warm little wet hole whenever you feel like. No, not worth the hassle—maybe for a weekend, but beyond that you'd go insane.

"Once a week is enough. Maybe twice if you can keep your fucking attitude in check."

"You love my attitude. Just like the rest of this body that you can't keep your hands off."

She has a point—a painfully accurate one, but not one that you're willing to admit when you keep trying to silence Yuna with these violent slams that have your balls ready to unload sooner rather than later. Her tight cunt drives you absolutely wild, almost distracting enough from that infuriating mouth of hers.

But even more distracting is the look in her face while you fuck her, and you can't resist staring with every thrust as she continues to keep those legs parted just for you. That's until they wrap tightly around your waist, the heels of her bare feet digging into your lower back, forcing you deeper into this perfect tight body.

"What the fuck are you—"

Yuna's light giggle interrupts your question, the look in her eyes almost enough of an answer on its own. "Just making sure you're not thinking about pulling out. Want every drop you have. Fucking dump it in me."

"God, will you shut up," you groan, face burying into the crook of Yuna's neck, unable to take another second of her mouth running while your hips keep up this unforgiving pace. This tightness, this wetness, it's more than you can handle, using her cunt to fuck every bit of annoyance building inside from what feels like forever. 

"I'll shut up when you cum inside me. It's been way too fucking long since you finished inside me, since I've heard you moan when your balls empty. Does every girl you fuck let you finish like this? Bet none of them do."

You're not even interested in playing this game with her, not when she has you so close already, your pistoning hips driven by such immense desire to flood Yuna's dripping cunt. She's even clenching harder than usual with those slim legs locked so tight, a grip you can't possibly slip from no matter how much you tried. Not that you even would. 

Thrust after merciless thrust, you keep your lips sealed to her neck, sucking so hard like it's the only thing to keep you anchored. All you can do is keep moaning in her ear, keep hammering her greedy little cunt, faster and faster—

"I'm about to fucking cum, Y-Yuna—"

The words leave your mouth right before you've reached your limit. Your mind's elsewhere, not even in control, as your balls tighten and every muscle in your body tenses. Not even a word on her end, like Yuna was waiting for this moment the entire night. There's just hot breath on her neck, your cock pounding so hard into this soaked pussy, every pump taking you further past the point of no return—until that first surge shoots deep inside her wet walls.

A hot, sticky load floods right into her pussy in a violent throb of bursts, pumping one spurt after the other deep as possible. Yuna wraps her legs tighter with each, keeping you buried completely while everything unloads inside her. Everything goes blank, losing track of how many shots fill her tight cunt, a complete blur while your hips move on repeat, fucking it all deeper into her slick warmth. 

"F-fuck, there's so much," Yuna groans, struggling to find the words, feeling every ounce of your hot load spill inside, threatening to overflow before you even finish.

You just continue to drive into her without mercy, until your body begins to give out, sweat dripping all along her pale frame underneath. By the time you're done, you’ve collapsed into the comfort of Yuna's neck, planting gentle kisses along the marks you've left behind while you ride out the high. She stays quiet for a moment—no taunting, no attitude, letting your still throbbing cock rest inside her with your thick load slowly seeping out.

It's the most deserved orgasm you've had in a while, you think. Putting up with Yuna—just to unload everything you have inside, where it belongs. All her annoying remarks, that shameless, filthy fucking mouth all seem to fade into obscurity after everything. For a few seconds, there's bliss. A quiet bliss. 

Bliss that doesn't last very long at all. 

"Did that feel good? Emptying your big, heavy balls inside me?" Yuna asks you, resting her long arms around your body. It's almost calming, the light scratches down your back that lull you into a state of relaxation. Something you didn't think was possible with this girl.

"Y-yeah," you breathe out against her neck, struggling to catch your breath as you linger in the warmth of her tight pussy that can’t stop clenching for more. "I came inside you, now get off me—"

"Never, you're still fucking hard. My legs still work, and I haven't even gotten to ride you yet," she reminds you, staring straight into your eyes with her legs staying perfectly in place. "That load was just an appetizer—daddy." 

You groan—louder than ever before, but not in pleasure.

"What the fuck did I tell you about calling me that?"

Yuna shifts beneath, legs relaxing enough to release the hold—allowing you to slide your cock free from the overwhelming heat.

"What's the matter, a nice, thick creampie in my tight cunt isn't enough for me to call you whatever I please?"

You're ignoring her, in as many ways as you can when you move your gaze between her thighs to admire the sight—the beautiful mess that's dripping from her pussy, so full of your hot cum. "Go home, Yuna. If that's what's you're going to keep doing, then we're fucking done here." 

"You're no fun. It's after midnight, you're not going to send a little innocent girl like me out alone like this, are you?"

Again, you ignore her, standing up from the couch in complete disarray and making a path to the bathroom instead. "I need a shower, but you can sleep on this couch you've defiled for all I care. Please be gone in the morning."

It's a bit heartless, you know, but Yuna brings out this part in you that rarely sees the light of day, when she refuses to listen. Even more so when her footsteps follow closely behind, her petite naked frame and that mess between her legs still dripping without any ounce of shame.

"God, you're such a mood killer," Yuna sighs, grabbing your wrist to pull your attention her way. "I'll stop fucking teasing you. I'll stop calling you daddy, you big fucking baby. Just let me shower with you. Please? I won't even talk. I promise."

That's a hard one to trust, given her track record. But she sounds far too exhausted to even try any tricks, pleading so hard to convince you to let her share your bed tonight. And it's hard to turn down that pout, those bright, widened eyes that stare you into submission.

"Fine. Not a single word in the shower. And if you call me that even once, Yuna, I'm never shoving my cock in you ever again. Do you understand?"

"Of course. Swear it on my life. Promise. Never ever ever—that's it."

And just like that, this look in her eyes when she steps inside the shower after you suggests she'll live up to that word. You'll see. If anything, seeing her naked under the hot steam is enough to commit to whatever terms you've created. A selfish, yet regrettable decision.

A nice, relaxing shower where this brat doesn't utter a single sound, not a single dirty comment—that's better than anything in your wildest dreams.

Things move to the bedroom, as they usually do with Yuna. The two of you are completely devoid of any clothing, because modesty with her around simply doesn't exist. She slides into the spot beside you, resting her head on your chest, delicate fingers in a relaxed grip around the length of your shaft. And you’re happy to do nothing but watch the smile on her face while she gives these magical strokes, not nearly enough pleasure to take things any further. 

"Whenever you're ready to put this big thing back inside me, let me know," Yuna says as casually as possible—as casual as someone can get while palming their hand around your cock.

But you're hesitant to leave this moment—her body curled so perfectly against yours, to the point where you can almost tolerate her. Almost. That being the important thing in all this.

"I already filled you twice today. Not enough for one night?"

"Never enough," she insists, giving a firm squeeze that makes you reluctantly agree. "Plus, you haven't filled my ass, and we both know what a huge fan I am of that.” 

"Obsessed is more the right word. You might be more into me fucking your ass than I am, and that's saying something. Like, I could live inside there."

She giggles, her delicate little fingers tracing down your shaft while she keeps stroking. "Can you blame me when I have an ass like this? You should be the one begging me instead of the other way around." 

"I'd never beg you for anything, Yuna. You're a pretty girl with a nice ass who spreads their legs on command, I don't need much more than that from you."

Yuna responds with a tug at your balls, almost painful in nature to get a point across. "Tell me that again when you want to bury your face in my ass. See if that's true then. Let's see how long you last without getting to eat my ass."

"Okay, okay—point taken."

"Not everybody gets to tongue my ass. It's a privilege."

"So lucky, my life is complete now that Shin Yuna allows me the honor of worshiping her ass." 

That makes her squeeze your cock all too hard in this agonizingly slow stroke. "My ass is fucking amazing. The only word for it, and it deserves some appreciation. I don't even let anyone else but you fuck me there."

"Why do I not believe that?"

Yuna drops a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your chest. "You don't have to believe it. I'll let half a dozen guys all have turns fucking me at once—until they cum inside me or on my face. Nobody but you gets the luxury of pounding my ass though."

“I’m touched.” 

"You should be. Every guy I fuck should be on their knees, begging me for the slightest chance to worship my body, especially my ass." 

Nobody has confidence like Yuna does, even if it's wildly inflated. As much as her very presence annoys you, it’s hard to say you could survive long without that tight ass. Whether it’s bouncing on your cock, your face, or just existing in front of your hips to have a handprint against it. That doesn't mean you'd ever drop to your knees and grovel for her, but there's no denying how much power that ass has.

"Nobody has a better ass than you, Yuna. Not even Yeji. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She laughs—this sinister laugh, while squeezing your cock in her tight little hand, nodding all excitedly in agreement. You know it's going to go to her head, but the alternative is much worse. "Good, now can you just jerk me off in peace?"

“Fine,” she says, with a defeated sigh. “If that's what you want. I won't make another sound. You can just relax. Pretend I'm not here. I'll just keep jerking off this nice, thick cock until you cum again." 

"Now you're getting it."

You close your eyes and appreciate the silence, knowing this might be the only time when Yuna doesn't find some excuse to run her mouth. Her hands keep busy, and god, are her hands just heaven when she's so slow and focused. The one time she doesn't say a fucking word, just pumping your cock until you're ready to explode all over her.

You don't even remember falling asleep. The last thing you remember is Yuna straddling you, riding with all the energy in the world despite her earlier exhaustion. Hair draped over her face as she bounced up and down, hips so frantic and needy, groaning while you slipped a finger to toy with her ass. And then it's all a blur. Sweet, uninterrupted slumber, and that's how you ended up like this.

But now, Yuna isn't anywhere to be seen. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. So, rather reluctantly, you rise from the comfort of your bed, grab a fresh pair of boxers, a clean shirt, and stumble right into the kitchen for some semblance of routine. 

The smell of coffee lingers in the air, a normally welcome start to the day. This time it's different—it's burnt. Far from the rich aroma of a good cup, the one you've brewed on your expensive coffee machine you imported just months ago. Something's amiss.

There's the culprit. Yuna is standing there, fiddling around with the machine like the controls are in a different language. She's dressed at least, kind of, barefoot in what appears to be your shirt, white and loose fitting, barely covering her delicious bare ass when she's bent over trying to figure out the buttons.

"Morning," Yuna says over her shoulder, as if completely oblivious to the damage she's caused. "Think your coffee machine is broken."

"Did you break it?"

She takes a good hard look at the machine, as if in disbelief, before turning back around. "No, not a chance. It was like this when I got here."

"Yuna, did you break my fucking coffee machine?" you ask again, in dire need of the very thing she's about to deprive you of. 

"What did I just say? It's not broken. Look, if you press this button it comes out with this weird looking water and if you do this—fuck."

This is unbelievable. As if you needed another reason to kick her out the second you're awake, because you know first hand that Yuna should never be allowed in a kitchen. Any kitchen. Not after the burnt chocolate incident. 

"Let me handle this. Before you destroy my kitchen too."

"Hey, rude—I was just trying to be helpful. But you have some weird fucking coffee maker that you need a PhD in three different languages to understand."

She takes a step back, sighing in defeat as you take over and deal with the chaos left behind. "This is why I don't have company in the morning. A pretty girl comes over and immediately tries to burn my entire place to the ground."

There's this surprised gasp that escapes from her lips as you start everything over from scratch, dumping out whatever awful concoction that was brewing earlier.

"Wait, pretty? You think I'm pretty?"

"That's what you're focusing on right now? You really are insufferable," you mutter, with Yuna's eyes fixating on you while she just beams at the compliment. A few adjustments here and there, a fresh pour of water, and the aroma of fresh coffee starts to linger, slowly clearing up the disaster zone Yuna has left behind.

"You didn't answer my question." 

You have nothing in you but an eye roll.

"Yes. You're very pretty," you finally relent, pulling down two mugs from the cabinet above. "I could do worse than waking up to that in my bed. With my ruined coffee machine."

"Hey, it's not ruined, you jerk. It's working now, isn't it?" 

For now. Not the point you want to argue about right now, because you need caffeine in your system more than you ever have. At least you can enjoy a proper cup on the balcony with Yuna, even if that means putting up with her presence. Which maybe isn't as bad as you once thought, given the eye candy alone makes it slightly tolerable. 

Days pass. Uneventful, mostly, without anything much but the occasional lewd text from Yuna at random points throughout the day. Which you'll admit, is preferable to her showing up at your place unannounced, because you think getting off to the nudes she sends without having to hear her whining in person is a much better alternative. 

It's the weekend, and you don't have anything planned that doesn't involve sleeping it all away. An hour at the gym, maybe. Catching up on laundry, cooking yourself a nice dinner—trying that new bottle of wine that's been sitting in your cabinet untouched for months.

But you’ll never get to any of that. 

"Guess who?" 

That’s all Yuna says before forcing her way into the apartment, like she's already expecting to be let in without a second thought. This bright, happy smile on her lips, strutting into the living room in a small little crop top, and these ridiculous white shorts that are tighter than they have any right to be. "I know you missed me. So I'm here to return your shirt. I washed it. Or the dry cleaning people washed it. Doesn't matter."

"Thanks. Just leave it on the counter, and then you can leave."

Yuna frowns, far more offended by this suggestion than any other you've laid out for her. "But you missed me, haven't you? So I'm going to stay for a couple of days, and you're just going to have to suck it up."

So much for peace and quiet. 

“Absolutely the hell not. Don't you have your own apartment to wreck? You're not staying here."

"Why not?" she asks, tossing your shirt on the counter, just like you said. But just as quickly, she takes a seat on the couch and makes herself entirely too comfortable. "My place is a fucking mess, and I'd rather have some company. Plus, you have that really nice bed that's a thousand times more comfortable than anything I own." 

"You're not staying," you reiterate. "Why are you even here? Did you just get done with a dick appointment, so you're coming here now? This isn't a hotel."

Yuna stretches out on the couch, not bothered in the slightest. "No. I haven't been fucked in three days. How crazy is that? We need to catch up, so I figured I would stay with you—"

"We? Try again. I'm sure there's a gangbang going down somewhere, or an orgy you can crash. I am not letting you stay."

"What, is having me in your life such a terrible fate that you'll die if you don't have a moment's peace? A hot girl on your couch and the first thing you think of is getting rid of her?"

"That's exactly right. I have things to do today. important things. Things that don't involve babysitting you."

Yuna cocks her head at you, wide-eyed. "What could you possibly have to do today that's more important than this ass? Huh? Name one thing."

This girl is the definition of exhausting. Trying to tear your attention away from her brazen attitude is harder than it should be, with her figure slumped against the back of the sofa—arms spread wide and long legs extended so invitingly. That top riding higher and higher each time she so much as breathes, offering a full view of her toned abdomen. You can't find the strength or motivation to fight this, when Yuna looks the way she does. And you're certainly no stranger to sleeping with her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. There are a thousand things more important than giving you attention. Now get off my couch and go find someone else to annoy."

The demand only earns a childish scoff, Yuna folding her arms across her chest. "Oh come on—look, I'll be good. I'll sleep on the couch, I'll cook you breakfast and dinner and clean whatever the hell I mess up. I won't bother you. Promise."

"You're not stepping foot in my kitchen after you almost broke my coffee maker."

"Almost. Keyword, almost," Yuna adds, barely getting to the end of her sentence before standing up and making her way across the living room to your side. "If I can't cook or clean or do anything, how do you suggest I pay you back for letting me stay here, hmm?"

You clench your fists so hard while exhaling, staring daggers into this psuedo-innocent expression that doesn't have any weight behind it. Knowing damn well what those gears turning in her head have planned. 

"Don’t worry, you're not staying here. So there's no need to pay me back." A simple rejection doesn't seem to deter her. It never does. 

She’s no stranger to the word no, but it doesn’t stop her from taking another step forward. And another one, closing the distance between, almost as a test to see how far she can go before the resistance starts. Then she steps back. Only to spin around, those tempting hips and ass pressing right into the crotch of your sweatpants, using the armchair nearby like support to push a little harder. 

And when she's looking like that, the way Yuna throws that devilish look over her bare shoulder while wiggling her ass is such an easy sell, a perfect visual that causes blood to rush down towards your cock. "If you prefer, I could just pull them right off…"

Somewhere deep inside, you want this—to give up this charade and indulge yourself in every inch of her. In that ass you have memorized to every detail, in that perfect fucking cunt that's yours to taste anytime you please. But the second you give in, there's no turning back.

Because you can't keep pretending that you can control yourself around this girl. Every shred of composure you try to have is fleeting when Yuna's there offering herself up on a platter.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've had someone spank my ass? Two weeks? Maybe even three. Nobody hits harder than those big, strong hands. Nobody can put me in my place like you do. And I've been such a bad, bad girl.” 

Staring at the view presented before you, your knees feel a little weak. The things you want to do to this bratty little tease are practically limitless, sending your imagination racing when you follow the curve of her hips. Because maybe it’s about time she got what she deserves. All those handprints, her sensitive flesh just bruised by your palm, the sight of her bent over and spanked relentlessly—maybe her punishment is your reward. 

It's inevitable at this point. And the worst part is, Yuna knows this all too well.

"What are you waiting for? Spank my ass, make it yours. Make it hurt so good. Please."

That please is what does you in. Because you can picture it now, feeling the supple skin of her ass bounce under every smack of your hand, and that high pitched yelp tearing through her throat the second you really put power behind each strike.

It doesn't help those goddamn skintight shorts that hug her ass, a perfect invitation to have your way. 

You sigh under your breath. Because you’ll fold like always, giving in to those desperate pleas. If only to satisfy the lust that builds for Yuna’s tight body. The way your cock will feel buried inside her ass, while you get so rough fucking her. Until she can barely stand on her own two feet anymore.

Fuck. She knows she's already won.

"Fine. You fucking brat. But not here, not on the couch. I'll need a drink for this."

With a final look at her—looking like sin and sex on two legs, you drag her towards the kitchen to look for the strongest thing you have, looking past the bottle of wine that will have to wait. Yuna waits silently by the counter, with that same knowing look in her eye. A look that has no chance to fade even once you pop open a bottle of something to help wash the regret down.

"God, you're going to regret wearing those shorts," you tell her, not bothering with a glass and taking a huge swig straight from the bottle. And then another. 

"I don’t regret a single thing in my life. Now where's mine?" Yuna asks, pout on her lips as she ignores the fact that those shorts are coming off the first chance you get. 

"You're annoying enough sober—you don't get shit until I've had enough to tolerate you." 

She giggles. Which at this point is more infuriating than cute. "So never?" 

Yuna watches the bottle return to your lips for another long sip. You don't even deny that—instead, your eyes are glued to her shapely figure while you wait for the alcohol to kick in. 

"Give me your belt.” 

You slam the bottle down and stare straight ahead at the puzzled look on Yuna's face—but there's no objection. Instead, she complies and unfastens the clasp before sliding the white leather strip right out and handing it over without asking a thing. 

And that's when you do the honors. Unfastening the front button of those ridiculous shorts and tugging the zipper down. Her shorts are so impossibly tight that even after all that, they still take a little extra strength to tug down past the full curve of her ass. But you do manage to peel them down, staring at the tiny scrap of blue cotton and lace that hardly covers a damn thing—what those shorts are concealing beneath, this small string nestled just between her smooth, bare asscheeks. 

“Surprised you even wore panties at all today.” 

“I wore them so you’d rip them off me. It’s no fun if I don’t make you earn it first.”

That cocky little smirk doesn’t falter—not until you grab her ass like it belongs to you, fingers digging in deep, rough enough to make her squirm. Yuna wants to be manhandled, you know that already, so you squeeze harder, spread her wide and knead every inch, marveling at how much of her there is to take.

Her thong barely counts as anything, just a bright blue string that disappears between her cheeks. It's the only thing standing between you and burying deep inside.

"Fuck, I can't wait to feel your hands hurting this ass so fucking hard," Yuna groans, rolling her hips back into your grip. 

You don't respond—because now you've got your teeth hooked into the flimsy fabric of her thong. One swift tug downward snaps the thin fabric and tears right through so you can get right to that incredible ass of hers. No sooner have the scraps of her panties fallen to the kitchen floor before you've got a solid grip on each bare cheek, sinking your teeth in just enough to mark her pale flesh.

Laughing under your breath as you run fingertips across those creamy cheeks, you shake your head in disbelief. "You think I'm going to be using my hands?" you ask while picking up her discarded belt, an almost forgotten strip of leather until this exact moment.

Yuna looks back over her shoulder with the biggest grin.

"We're doing this my way.” 

Dropping your sweatpants right around your ankles for some relief, she can't help but stare at your bulge. And a smile perks up on her lips the instant she catches sight of the leather belt in your tight fist. Surprisingly, Yuna stays silent, even as you test the belt out between the palm of your hand, the crack of leather echoing around the kitchen. "You wanna get spanked? Then you're gonna get spanked. Bad girls don't get a say in this."

"Can't wait," she responds, not obedient, but almost daring as her hands clutch tight to the kitchen counter to brace for the first impact. Neither can you. 

"Eyes forward then, slut," you demand, running the leather down her skin, tracing along every curve until she has no choice but to face away. Before any warning, the satisfying crack of leather connects right against her bare ass, ripping a startled yelp from those bratty lips. A strike so forceful it jolts her body forward and leaves a light imprint on her delicate flesh. 

It puts a smile on your face when you get the same reaction. Another sharp crack cuts through the silence, right against the flesh of her ass with even much force. Another welt, another moan, as this bright red mark begins to form as the color spreads across her flesh. "M-more, please—that stings so fucking good. F-fuck, more."

The next smack sends her hips slamming back into the counter, another strangled noise coming from her mouth right as you hit her harder without thinking. “If it's too much, speak up." 

But the noise she makes is barely coherent. All you can see is the look of excitement on her face as you deliver more stinging slaps to her same cheek, over and over until you've had enough—only switching to the other for an identical treatment and marking the unblemished skin just the same.

"N-never. I love the pain, love the feeling of this belt on my ass—please keep going." Even with the crack in her voice, the smack of leather against bare skin overshadows her cries while you up the ante and show no mercy. 

Over and over with these slaps all over her cheeks, fueled by frustration with Yuna yelping each time you send the belt flying into that sore, marked skin. But she still grinds her hips back at you for more, eager for any ounce of pleasure, and every ounce of pain that comes alongside.

The entire time Yuna stays bent over, loud gasps and pathetic whines for another while these harsh spanks rain down so she can feel the sting that lingers right after. Hard enough to leave her speechless and biting back to not beg you for even worse. She grips the countertop like she'll simply fall over if she doesn't. And after a well-timed hit, you force a break that she doesn't ask for—a moment to collect herself and catch her bearings. A moment to admire the redness that's not going away anytime soon.

"Still want more?" you ask her with a tug at her hair, the belt grazing her tender skin. 

"M-more. Give me everything you fucking have," she can barely breathe out between whimpers, gripping even tighter onto the kitchen counter, so that your next hit to that reddened ass leaves behind an unmistakable imprint on those plump cheeks. "Fucking make it hurt, don't treat me like I can't take it. Harder."

You can certainly oblige her. Harder is exactly what you'll do—each vicious snap of the belt a little more relentless, no pauses between several loud cracks against that aching flesh, causing the most delectable noise as Yuna gasps every single time. Even as you step back, inspecting the artwork you've left on her backside, Yuna is far from satisfied. "I said to fucking make it hurt. But you're holding back on me, stop doing that."

Oh, let her fucking complain. Even with a burning sting on her ass, Yuna can't help but provoke you a bit further, with your grip in her hair tightening. But those slaps only come faster—each vicious hit with the leather cracks over her raw ass, moans muffled as her cheek gets pressed right up against the cold countertop. 

The belt swings wide again, hitting both cheeks at once and making them jiggle, the redness across Yuna's round little ass making a stark contrast against the pure, porcelain skin. And she hears it first before feeling it. 

Another cry of ecstasy that escapes her throat right as the belt brings about more stinging slaps, until you let the folded length of her own belt linger in the air, so she doesn't even know when the next swing will happen. You love nothing more than watching her body tense up—every single nerve on edge knowing another hard smack will come her way the second she even breathes, her reddened ass ready to receive whatever you have left in store for it.

"Like doesn't begin to describe it. I'm fucking crazy for it," she gasps out, when the belt stays far enough away that you give her some sense of relief—until it brushes over the sore, sensitive skin, making the softest touch seem worse than an outright strike. Then it cracks over her cheeks in succession, her thighs clenching together as she takes it. 

"My god, nobody has an ass like this, Shin Yuna. Nobody. Especially now with all these pretty little marks, and those noises you make when I spank you, I could listen to those all fucking day."

You put the belt down and stroke over the red welts from where you may have gone just a little too far, not that Yuna would ever object. She glances back over her shoulder with the biggest smile, even through the tears staining her cheeks.

"That’s as much as you deserve, you desperate little slut.” 

Up her body you wander, pulling her upright and stripping her of that small crop top so your hands have better access. Then straight into the clasp of her bra, cupping her tits once you’ve freed them, kneading with a little force the way you know Yuna loves. 

"I can handle so much more than this, I swear. I could take so much more," Yuna insists with another cute sniffle. The problem is, you know she can. All you have to do is glance between her thighs, and the mess on the tiles tells you enough. 

"I know you can," you breathe in her ear, hand trailing up around her throat until your fingers close tightly around it. Yuna lets out this short and sweet moan in your grasp when you apply more pressure. “But you got what you want. Now it’s my fucking turn.” 

Yuna drips at the thought. There's no sense in resisting her, no point in pretending this wasn't inevitable from the moment she had herself bent over with those tight fucking shorts. You'll give into everything she wants despite pretending to do the opposite. 

"What's that fucking word you keep calling me?" you ask her, the grip around her neck making her thighs clench even harder this time. "Go on."

"D-daddy. That's it. But you said never to—"

"Doesn't apply here. One time, this one time, use it. Use it while I'm shoving my cock in your needy little asshole, understand?"

"Yes—I fucking understand. Y-yes, daddy. Just this once."

A quick release of her throat so Yuna can turn her body in your direction, the tears in those alluring eyes yet to dry up. Your free hand palms over her ass once again, getting a nice, possessive squeeze as a reward for everything she's endured already.

"My ass fucking hurts," she says, laughing it off between shaky breaths and the occasional sniffle. "G-god, this belt fucking hurt more than your hand ever could."

"Are you complaining or bragging?" you ask as your lips meet, hot breath against one another as her slender fingers grasp against the hem of your shirt, up and off within seconds so she can slide her fingers up and down your bare chest. 

"What do you think?" 

Your boxers come off last, not even hitting the ground before Yuna is stroking your stiff cock with this playful expression on her features. Then it's in her grip the entire time you walk her down the hallway and into the bedroom. As expected, she can't keep her hands off of you for more than a second, right up to when the bed frame hits the back of her knees and the only option is falling back onto the mattress.

"God, Yuna, the things I'm going to do to you—the ways I'll ruin you." With her legs spread wide, and thighs glistening with arousal, you get to indulge in the view while Yuna plays with her clit in lazy, drawn-out circles.

“Need you in my ass, daddy—need it now. Isn't that clear?" Oh, how unexpected that she’s going to abuse the permission of that one single word. 

"I can assure you the feeling is mutual," you insist, and join her on the edge of the mattress, taking her hips and flipping her over until she's lying right on her stomach with that sore, marked ass up on display, raised up off the mattress.

She props herself up on her elbows so she’s in position, right in the center of the bed. The sight is perfection—this shameless, insatiable fucktoy, sprawled across your bed with her legs parted, knees sunk into the bed, ready and waiting for you. 

Just as she opens her mouth to say something, you bury your face into those pillowy cheeks, the tip of your tongue swirling against her tight fucking asshole.

"F-fuuuck, it's been so long since I've had your tongue in my ass, daddy," Yuna moans, your spit lubricating her puckered hole all over, the softness of her cheeks pressing deep against your face as she tries to grind back. You shove your tongue deeper, tasting, savoring everything—eating her ass like it's the only reason you let her stay here tonight. The reason why you even opened the front door.

There's nothing better than the unfiltered moans while you plunge your tongue deep into the depths of her asshole, face first against it and greedy, spreading her wide apart while you slip in, those cries of pleasure getting higher. 

You taste—no, you devour her, tongue exploring, thrusting in and out of that tight little ring that clenches around each swipe. This delicious tongue-fuck that gets better the more desperate Yuna sounds, writhing around your sheets and pushing back, all in hopes to keep your mouth where it belongs. 

"This ass belongs to me," you remind her, a harsh slap on the still reddened flesh to make the pleasure even better. 

Yuna spreads her cheeks wider so you can plunge as deep as possible, so you can hear her delicious moans as your spit covers her glistening hole. One long, sloppy lick in and out, tongue so deep in her asshole that all she can do is whimper helplessly for more. 

"D-don't act like you didn't miss this," she says, still as cocky as ever through a breathless groan of satisfaction. Your tongue teases one last time, a thumb replacing it to press into the ring of muscle that's already relaxed, seeing how easy it is to sink into.

She’s more than ready, but you need one more taste before grabbing the lube so you can slide a wet digit right inside the puckered hole of Yuna's ass—fingering her the same way you've done countless times already. 

She's tight, of course, that’s a given, but even as a finger curls inside, this grip around your finger won’t begin to compare once your cock is in the same place. Two fingers is the limit, plunging them deep enough to stretch Yuna just enough so your cock will slide right in. "Only I get to fucking pound your asshole, yeah?"

"O-oh fuck, it's only you, daddy. Nobody else, nobody but you, I promise—your cock in my ass, right where it belongs. J-just you." 

Your fingers finally pop out, and instead the slick, swollen head of your cock is pushing into the tightest, most inviting hole—one long, deep thrust right up until the base, so her asshole can swallow every last inch in a single motion. 

Yuna clutches the sheets so tight, arching her back to push that ass up into the air. She's so tight that you can't even fathom it, this delicious clench around everything stuffed to the hilt—and there's nothing like this. Nobody gets this privilege, you believe. Nobody gets to indulge in the luxury of fucking Yuna's perfect, tight little asshole. Not a single person but you gets to make her moan quite this way. 

"Stop wasting time and fuck my ass. Pound me, p-please. Don't make me fucking beg." 

So much for savoring any of it. You sink your fingers right into her ridiculous hips, gripping her harder than usual to drag her backwards onto your cock. Hard enough to force this groan out of her—so needy and pathetic in the midst when your hips meet her bare ass. A brief moment to take it all in, before sliding almost entirely back and rocking forward with full force. 

"Oh my fucking god—my ass feels so full, shit—"

She's barely breathing between words, and you don't intend on helping her out in that regard at all when you're too busy staring at her red, tender cheeks, loving how they jiggle with every rock of your hips.

“Did you expect anything else?" you ask while giving her a good, harsh slap to that same spot where red is still clear as can be. With such a good view, it's impossible to do anything other than drive deep and begin pounding her mercilessly. "A pathetic fucking slut like you deserves nothing but a rough fuck. And that's what you're gonna get." 

Yuna does little but spew moans and throw her head back when your cock buries deep in her ass. This tightness never gets old, your hips on a mission to bury in her and hit all the places Yuna loves, enough to get her drooling all over your pillows. But her asshole—as snug, warm, and irresistible as it is, you can’t fathom how hard she squeezes every time you drill forward, showing no signs of restraint.

"S-so good," she lets out through short gasps, her face buried in the pillows and her teeth biting your sheets hard. “Love when you treat me like a fucking toy, daddy—"

"Yuna, that's exactly what you are," you tell her while you're so deep in her ass it's almost overwhelming. "So tight, I'll never stop pounding you, fuck. Tightest little hole I've ever fucked."

Yuna glances over her shoulder, while you get a good, tight grip on her hair and tug so she clenches harder, with every stroke balls fucking deep—as rough as you think she needs it. Even as the sound of your cock reaming her ass echoes throughout the entire room, nothing could possibly be enough. 

Your unrelenting, deep thrusts into Yuna's asshole cause the whole damn bed to creak from the violent force of your strokes, pulling her hair harder for that extra roughness she loves. 

No break, not the slightest pause until you absolutely have to—because you could do this all day and not grow tired of the way Yuna moans or how her cheeks bounce when you slam into them. Those cheeks that you get a tight handful of—palms full, and dig your fingers in for some leverage while your thrusts turn animalistic, barely in control at this point. 

But Yuna can take it, you can see it in that fucked out expression. The pleasure written all over her features while her mouth falls open as you show her no mercy—spreading her ass just so you can marvel at your cock hammering in and out, stretched out so wide around you.

"So good, g-god, so deep, love how deep your cock goes," Yuna can barely get out, like it takes all the energy out of her. You know you're not anywhere near wearing her out, not while watching your dick destroy her asshole.

"Not enough?" 

“N-not even fucking close. Give me all you've got, come on," she pleads for in this broken, muffled whine with her face shoved so far against your sheets she can barely breathe. 

Another deep thrust, enough force behind that slams the bed against the wall, loud enough to compete with the sound of her ass slapping against your hips. And when you draw back again, you grab her delicate little wrists, pulling her arms behind her back and using them as leverage—so Yuna can't do anything at all but let her asshole get wrecked.

"More, more—keep fucking pounding my tight ass, come on. D-don't stop, daddy. You know I'm fucking addicted to this fat cock," Yuna pleads so pathetically, immobile and helpless, taking whatever comes next with her arms hostage and your cock impaling her to the hilt.

Your hips do exactly that. Fucking her ass in quick strokes until all she does is cry out for you to destroy her, and then some. Yuna takes everything, the groans and yelps when you give no chance for recovery, the thrusts so deep and noises more depraved by the second. Her wrists pinned by the small of her back so she doesn't even have the chance of touching her swollen clit.

"That cock in my ass feels so fucking amazing. Oh my fucking god, fuck me, fuck my asshole as deep as possible."

When you yank her body back, your hands stay locked around her wrists with enough force for her to gasp. But you’re too busy pummeling her ass to even get a word out—too focused on that impossible tightness wrapped around your cock, the  perfect grip around every inch like it's trying to force you to cum.

"Better get used to this, slut. My cock is going to keep wrecking your tight little ass over and over again for the next two days. And maybe even longer if you really deserve it."

Her wrists go free, only for your hands to find her delicious hips again, slamming back in and using all the momentum to crash into Yuna as hard as your body can muster—until she's pinned flat onto your mattress, trapped right under you without a single break between the thrusts that hit at a different angle. 

With your legs spread on either side of her, your torso stays flat against her naked back, keeping your weight right down over her small frame. The bed shakes each time you enter the deepest parts of her ass, every single stroke her greedy hole swallows up and demands even more than you can possibly offer. 

"That's it, j-just like that. Just keep fucking my ass, love the way that you ruin it—"

"Yuna—" You bring a harsh smack down across her reddened, sore cheek to really punctuate each thrust. "You think I wouldn’t when your ass is squeezing my cock so fucking good?"

Every bit of movement between the two of you happens right where your skin is pressed against hers—sweat on her body indistinguishable from the sweat on yours. Hands around her hips so you can keep a nice, possessive grip while you relentlessly drive forward to pound her body into your mattress, no chance of lasting much longer now. Not with the way you're drilling her, no chance at all.

And yet, you can't tear your eyes away from how her ass looks getting pounded, bouncing every time your hips make contact with the reddened cheeks of her ass.

"If you fuck me any harder, you might actually break this bed," Yuna gasps out, laughter still coming to her lips despite how ruined and breathless she is. That sounds like a good option, if you can’t help it, no matter how rough you need to be with her. Yuna is beyond that—insatiable and incapable of getting satisfied for very long at all, the way most people would. 

But that doesn't mean you won't give your all for this performance. So you get back on your knees, getting each hand full of Yuna's plump ass, sinking your fingertips as much as humanly possible to watch your cock destroy this perfect girl. 

"Then I'll keep going, until we've destroyed my entire goddamn bedroom. That's how much I love pounding your ass."

She just giggles until a moan replaces it, lost in all these noises. You won't stop, not if your legs give out from exhaustion. Every hard and deep thrust has your eyes fixed upon where your hips meet those decadent cheeks. With Yuna face down on her stomach, there’s no better view to watch how well your cock stretches her hole open. 

"You're getting there, I can feel it," she taunts. You hate that you can’t even see her face, but you know she’s grinning. Smug little brat. "Go ahead, fill this tight, little asshole. Use it until you cum."

And she just gets you so riled up, that it's inevitable, as soon as those words leave Yuna's mouth. "I cannot believe I went this long without my cock inside you. When you say it out loud, it just sounds—"

"Crazy? Come on. I know it drove you crazy. The only time you're actually fucking happy is when this big dick is buried in my ass. Not just inside some random girl who's not me, or a warm mouth who's not mine."

God, do you hate when she's right. Hate it with every fiber of your being, but you don't even have time to think about anything else, because these soft cheeks you're palming so hard is the thing that's about to break you first. That same voice that you can't stand on most days, is what helps you unravel—what brings you to that delirious edge and drives your hips with full force for these last few deep thrusts that rattle the bed. 

You start to lose full control, snapping your hips a little too fast, once, twice—before finally bottoming out with her name on your lips and erupting deep inside her ass. It's unstoppable, filling her with your thick, messy release in each deep throb when your cock pumps Yuna full, her asshole accepting it with each final burst of tightness.

"There you go, fucking cum in my ass," Yuna moans out as those harsh clenches milk everything out of you. You ride that high for as long as possible, each furious thrust pumping your seed deep inside, each hammering her body into the mattress—again and again until your balls have nothing left. 

Even after then, your hips don’t cease, fucking the rest of your load deeper inside her tight, filled hole. You can already see your release trickling out, her ass stuffed too full and overflowing with your cum already. "F-fuck, there's so fucking much, it's so thick—oh my god, daddy came so much…” 

Yuna sighs out into the silence, while you're left holding those sore cheeks to catch your breath. Both of you struggling to recover. 

"That's like, several days worth of cum in your ass," you say, dragging your spent cock out of her to get a good look, holding her cheeks spread apart as it flows in a thick mess between her thighs. Your fingers slide right into that gaping, ruined asshole, pushing back whatever cum threatens to drip out.

"Jesus, Yuna. Look at how much is spilling out. Was worried I actually broke you there for a moment when you're this tight."

"Nope. Still perfect. And it's still not enough," Yuna says, insatiable as ever. Only then do you start to peel yourself off of her, her worn-out body a complete sweat-covered mess.

“Too bad. You fucking drained me dry, you greedy slut."

Yuna laughs, and when she rolls over on her back to face you, she's the image of perfection: hair matted all against her forehead with sweat, makeup a bit smeared, her lips and cheeks redder than usual—ruined but still absolutely stunning.

“Like you could ever run out. Not when I'm around…” 

Yuna shifts right in front of you until she's directly in front of your gaze and kneeling between your legs. She smiles up at you and her mouth gets right back on your throbbing, sensitive cockhead. Each obscene slurp makes it a little harder to convince yourself that she shouldn't be staying for the weekend, because you might not ever let her leave. While not a day goes by without you hating her guts, not a day goes by without wanting to pin her up against a wall and fuck her senseless.

Her mouth slides deep, cleaning off everything, and her lips, her tongue running against the slit, and the cute expression the whole time, god—this girl is going to be the death of you.

She drags her tongue in slow, gentle swipes around the head, sucking every single drop clean and looking for more. There's not a single bit of reluctance—her wet mouth eagerly cleaning up your shaft in long strokes. Then she slides both hands around your hips and shoves you back, knocking you off balance until you hit the mattress. Yuna doesn’t give you a second to recover, already between your legs again. 

Now you're the helpless one, that hot little mouth working to fit the entire thick length down her throat. You don't even care about the overstimulation, not with this view of Yuna bobbing her head, those lips sealed tight. 

"Fuck, you’re crazy—“ you let out, running fingers through her messy hair, while Yuna ignores you and devours your spent cock, balls deep down her throat until she gags the slightest bit.

"You love it, though. Because it means you’re gonna fuck me harder now.” 

Maybe you do regret ever opening the door for her and letting her inside your apartment to ruin her. Or maybe you're the one ruined instead. You're not entirely sure at this point. 

"You're gonna have to wait, not everything is at full capacity yet." Yuna cocks her head to the side, stopping her full strokes so she can crawl up and get comfortable on top of you, until you're face to face, inches apart. 

"Daddy got too worn out pounding my ass? Is that my fault?"

All you have the energy for is to brush away strands of her disheveled hair out of the way, so you can stare at her gorgeous face. "Yes. And you can stop calling me that. One time thing, remember?"

Yuna giggles. "No—one time won't be enough. You know I like saying it."

You can’t even hide the sigh that escapes. But you should have known better, you suppose, for letting the floodgates open and allowing her that one time. Now you'll never hear the end of it, and it's going to be rolling off her lips the next time she begs you to fuck her again.

"You'll never listen to anything I say ever, will you?"

You already know the answer to that. But you’ll still indulge in her lips, this unexpected soft kiss after all the roughness. After all the debauchery of tonight, it’s what you both need. 

"Definitely not," Yuna replies, eyes wide and bright. “You’re just gonna have to find a way to shut me up—daddy."

You hate that word with a passion, you'd hate it if you were to hear anyone else say it to you—but for some reason, hearing that coming from those pouty lips, you hate even more that you might grow to love it the same amount. "You get to stay the weekend, and not a minute longer. Got it?"

There's this knowing glint in her eyes, all too confident that you'll break and think otherwise. "Don't be so sure about that. After one more night, you'll be begging me to stay an entire month. Begging me."

A roll of your eyes, and a laugh that’s far too loud escapes, because in truth, she's most certainly right. It's this push and pull between wanting her far away and wanting her around more than ever.

"Yuna, don't push your fucking luck," you warn, the last remnants of trying to distract from the truth.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think? I've pushed far past my limit. Might as well just start moving my things here."

That's a step too far. You'll fuck her brains out as many times as she needs, you'll even allow her to sleep in your bed for as many nights as she wants. This is already too domestic for your liking, but the thought of her staying here without giving you a moment's break? You'd rather perish.

"Absolutely fucking not. Don't even joke about that, Yuna."

"I was kidding," she insists, playing with the locks of your hair, not bothered at all by the agony on your face. "I'm here to get dicked down, that's it. I don't need to take over your whole apartment just to make sure my asshole is stretched." 

"Jesus, Yuna. Why the fuck are you so—"

"Insatiable? Hot? Good at deepthroating you until you explode down my throat? Because it's fun to see you get so flustered, daddy." 

Another one slips past her lips. You're just going to have to live with it at this point, she's so obsessed getting a reaction out of you, and you make it so easy for her. "Fuck off, I do not get flustered. And you need to stop saying that."

"No fucking chance. I'm going to call you that every single time you pound me. I'm going to scream it while you shove my face into your pillows and fuck the shit out of me, while you fold me up and choke me, get me on my knees and gag me until I'm drooling—"

"Yuna, I am not fucking you for at least another hour. Maybe even two."

"That's fine. We don't have to fuck at all, because my ass still fucking hurts,” she says, letting out a noise somewhere near a giggle and a sigh all at once. “I'm going to feel those welts you left on me forever, that belt made my ass so fucking sore that I'm surprised I can even walk. Just thinking about it makes me fucking drip—“

"Could you be any bigger of a slut than you already are?" 

Yuna shakes her head, this soft smile as if your insults only spur her on, as they seem to do. "Never. Not even if I tried." 

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings

[silknspice]

hockey!vi and basketball!caitlyn decide it's time to stop fighting over you. they'll just have to share!

headcanons, arguing, smut/slutty material (18+ mdni), dom!cait & vi, gp!vi, cheerleader!reader (hardly mentioned), vi & cait r horny and reader's hard-to-get-but-also-horny. wc. 2k

vi's a big, bulky, 'gentleman' of a player. girls come and go from her poster-covered dorm room, and it's fine, because she has bigger things to worry about, until she meets you. the post-game crowd is a chaotic swarm of students, and still, she spots you with ease. you're with a friend that she somewhat recognizes, but the athlete swears on her life she's never seen you. she would've remembered a pretty ass face like that. the two of you are making conversation with one of her teammates, and almost immediately the pinkette's jogging up to the cluster of you and slinging an arm over the other player.

she's decorated with a big fat grin like always, cooing a sexy "hey there," that has her teammate rolling her eyes into the back of her head, but not the way vi intended. you're introduced, a sweet smile gracing your lips that vi wants buried between the flesh of her thighs, lips that she wants gasping for life as she ravishes you, lips that she swears just made her cock twitch.

"you gonna be looking for me at the after party?" she cocks her head in fake innocence. what an asshole. "maybe if you score some more next time," you dismiss her with a tucked away grin, politely biding her teammate and spinning off out of the dumbfounded butch's sight. her teammate sharply inhales, patting the girl who looks like she's just seen a ghost. "tough luck, vi," the athlete starts, "wouldn't have worked anyway, i heard she's messing with kiramman."

caitlyn won the race to your attention. it's one of the many things she adores holding over vi's head when they have their daily bicker-fests over anything and everything related to you. she’d always believed in finders keepers.

the bustling, alcohol scented, dim atmosphere encasing her is completely forgotten as her gaze lands on you, a red solo cup in hand as you make conversation with who she assumes to be your teammates. she squares her shoulders, standing a little taller as her fellow athletes notice the look she's giving you. a predator ready to pounce. little whistles of encouragement fall from their lips as she strides on her mission to you.

the navy haired beauty knows she's hot, knows damn well anyone would slide their way under her as soon as the words of approval coat her tongue, and knows that you'll be one of her most– no, the most rewarding catch she's had. except, her trap seemed to falter.

"you were great today," she flashes a soft smile, attempting to make sure the way she checks you out is subtle, less cocky and more in awe. "watched when i could, i see why they put you in front." "oh yeah?" you hum out, sipping from your cup. it's basic, not giving much for caitlyn to work with, but the glint in your eyes is giving the athlete all too much hope. "yeah," she sounds a little breathless. her eyelids drop and soften to mimick the arousal she's feeling from just eyeing your fuckable face. "must be real flexible to do all that. think you could show me some more?" her prim and enchanting accent is completely contradicting the nasty insinuations falling from her mouth. that has you gently shaking your head and scoffing– albeit, with a smile, caitlyn notes. "you're funny, cait." and that's all you leave her with. that, and the image of you gently swaying your hips while walking off. the image that she'll be replaying in her head as she tends to her needs later that night. it makes sense to her a few days later during practice. when she and her teammates are lazily walking off of the court, one of them explains your oh so suspicious behavior. "heard she's interested in vi. sorry hotshot, looks like you've met your match."

from then on, the two are completely at each other's throats. it starts off small when they bump into each other at the campus coffee shop. they're patiently waiting for their drinks. caitlyn's arms are crossed as always with her hair in a messy pony, and vi's hands keep refuge in her pockets while her shoulders slightly slouch in a relaxed manner. they're completely ignoring the other's presence, until vi physically has to speak up.

"so... ___" she says your name like a child praying to their goddess. caitlyn hums in response. "i hate to be the one to tell you, but she's completely out of your league." "well i don't know what she'd see in a narcissistic mongoose like you," vi quips. cait scoffs. "and i'm not sure why she'd ever give someone as run through as you the time of day... wait, mongoose?"

soon, it's not one that's pursuing you at a time, it's both. at parties, after games, walking to class, even in the library, the two girls are drawn to you like moths to light. and sure, they're still very interested in fucking you senseless if you let them. and sure, they don't know you all too well yet, but something about you is so captivating. whether you'll give them the time of day or not, they crave being in your presence. (the rivalry is making things a little more fun than expected, too.)

you're interested, extremely interested. but these girls are used to getting everything they want in the blink of an eye. you know your worth, so if they want to take you, and not just your ability to walk, they're going to have to work for it. in record time, the university of piltover's finest were wrapped around your dainty finger. so, slowly, you let them into your life.

at first, it's smaller things. in the morning, caitlyn worms her way into the plush seat next to you at your library table. she sets down your coffee order to a T, saying she "had some extra time" (which isn't a lie, she woke up an hour earlier than she already does to make sure her timing was perfect), and she "didn't know what you'd like", so she 'guessed' (that part was a lie, because she fell asleep thirty minutes later than usual stalking your instagram highlights and zooming into the label of your most recent drink). in conclusion, the star player was losing sleep over you, and she didn't know how to feel about that.

then, like switching shifts, vi swoops into the library and whisks you away, but not before making a remark that has the navy-haired girl's brows furrowing.

"i'll take it from here, cupcake. angel and i have a date." the pinkette lifts your backpack from the ground and slings it over her shoulder before you can utter a word. "you're walking me to class, violet. 'ts not a date..." you dismiss the claim, looking caitlyn in the eyes as you bring the coffee to your lips and take a swig. "..yet," you induce some hope and fear into the respective girls. as you coo your mind-twirling sing-song "bye cait," and walk away, vi can't help but snake a hand around your waist before throwing a terribly taunting wink to the bluenette over her shoulder.

eventually, after more interrupted touches and argument after argument, the girls attempt to seduce you on their own turf. after a particularly hard but victorious game, cait jogs up to you. the flyaways of her ponytail are the sexiest amount of messy and the sweat dripping down the side of her neck and rounding towards her adams apple has you gulping. but of course, you hide it. you admit, she's impressed you, and the seemingly suave girl fights the beaming smile she feels sneaking its way onto her face. instead, she thanks you for cheering for her and gently grazes her hand over the hem of your blue and white skirt.

"is this my reward for playing so well?" she grins. "this is my uniform, hotshot."

after vi's hockey game that she insisted you come to, she sneaks up on you after exiting the locker room, capturing your frame from behind with sculpted arms. the two of you stiffle a few laughs before she turns you around, pulling your torso closer to hers.

"how'd I do?" she asks, the neediness of approval hidden somewhere in her tone.

"i guess you were good," you joke, making vi gently pinch at your side. "yeah?" she teases, "how good?" "not good enough, at least I score." caitlyn buts in from 'out of nowhere!' (vi claims), momentarily stunning whatever tension you and the pinkette were building. "i scored three times," the powder-blue eyed girl slightly pouts, sending you into a fit of laughter.

it's vi who steals a kiss from you first. you finally give in after realizing maybe she wants something a little more than sex. it's hungry, slight teeth, lots of tongue, and sloppy hums of pleasure. wandering hands travel to the back of your head, through your hair, down to the curve of your waist, everywhere she can claim you.

caitlyn, when she finds out a day later, is pissed. so when she finally gets her hands on you, she's rougher than she planned on being when she ran this scenario through her head hundreds of times before. she's pushing you against a wall, knee slotted between your legs, and a lanky hand trails up to grip your chin. it's rough, hypnotizing, and you have to stop her before she makes an absolute mess of you.

it's no surprise when the girls text you to meet up a few days later. what is a surprise is the fact that they're together. they send you a selfie from vi's phone in your shared group chat. vi looks delicious in her stupid backwards baseball cap and caitlyn's glasses only enhance that scarily sexy cold look she owns. the picture's lazy, a lower angle of the two looking at the camera with soft grins, but it has your heartbeat racing, and something else pulsing their names.

ice queen: angel come 2 cait's ice queen: we miss you <3 angel: and if I don't? hotshot: you'll regret it. angel: is that a threat? hotshot: jesus, get over here.

caitlyn and vi take turns using you for the rest of the night. they wait for you to make the first move, of course, they have manners. once you're all hot and bothered you hear the clank of their belts coming undone and flashes of clothes being stripped off fill your vision.

cait only spends so long teasing your swollen clit before she's two fingers and three knuckles deep inside of you, teasing your clouded brain about adding a third. the wet sounds your body's making are getting vi the hardest she's been in her life, and she swears she could cum just from the way your glossy eyes look up at her while cait ravishes you. "look at that- i'll be the one to make her cum first." cait taunts, and as soon as you've reached your high the pinkette's stripping you away from her and flipping you onto your stomach.

vi's gentler than caitlyn at first, but her passion and desires enchant her mind and soon she's stuffing your needy hole with her length, face down ass up, while pushing your head into the pillow that captures your lovely noises.

it's not long before caitlyn's sitting in front of you with her legs spread wide, guiding your tongue right where it belongs.

you all sleep in the same bed that night. you in the middle, of course, and your girls clinging to you lovingly. the three of you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, and the silly conversations lull you into a deep sleep.

some day soon, you'll have to talk about whatever this is. for right now, vi and caitlyn relish in the fact that they have you. brain, heart, body and all.

sharing isn't all that bad.

silknspice

[aerkame]

Which version of Sun Wukong do you like the most? (Both in character and design)

Which one would be your final choice?

You can't just ask me to pick one like that. 😭 There are so many versions of Sun Wukong throughout history from different media.

My favorite version of Sun Wukong is the one from New Gods: Nezha Reborn. I can't even begin to express just how much I love his character overall once I began to take notes for writing him (I'm still taking notes, there are many details). Both his design and character were well thought out for the movie and it's such a shame that he didn't get his own movie or have more screen time.

PERSONALITY

I know Nezha Reborn Monkey King probably isn't everyone's favorite, but what won me over was the amount of details to his personality, missed easter eggs, and his overall design that both matches the world he's in and also makes him stick out. For starters, Monkey King in this version is quite scary in my opinion despite his silly old man act. I really do believe he is a silly guy who is just minding his business and having fun. Sometimes in the movie, he truly does act like a monkey (makes you wonder how no one figured him out yet, he even has a giant metal sculpture of himself with his motorcycle collection), swinging from chains, climbing around, making small noises at times, having too much energy to the point of not being able to hold still for a single minute... but he's an assassin, a hitman. Monkey King being easily hired by Ao Guang as a hitman in the past plenty of times is scary enough. On top of that, his behavior is pretty cutthroat as well.

Sure, he's a silly old man, but it's hard to ignore how he acts sometimes. Especially when he not only ate another yaoguai, but he offered a piece of the dead assassin to the very guy who hired that yaoguai to kill Nezha's reincarnation (Ao Guang). This Monkey King is also more than an expert at acting. I think he even has a portion of the fandom tricked. There are only a few times in the movie where he acts like his true self and it's mostly around Nezha's reincarnation (Ever notice that he knew ALL of the names of the previous ones?)

He goes from silly guy to the biggest threat in the room real quick. This Monkey King is a very morally grey one. He's done plenty of bad things and plenty of good from the context given in the movie. It all depends on his motives if he has any. Who knows, he did say he's just tired.

DESIGN

Nezha Reborn Monkey King's overall design is just as thought out as his character too. If you look at the main cast or any character really, you'll notice that their clothes usually don't have any bright colors or anything that would have too much saturation to it. It's mostly all dull colors. Wukong however, has a bright pink suit and pants. Even the clothes he wears in his home are bright and colorful. This goes hand in hand with his personality. He's shown to have some greed in him when Ao Guang offered a larger payment for Li's assassination.

Monkey King is still a monkey, and he likes shiny valuables and that can be seen in his greed and the gold jewelry he wears (which has human skulls on it by the way-). He also has a huge amount of confidence and wearing bolder colors is definitely something he would do to show it. He does what he likes and wears what he wants.

The choice of colors and clothes not only matches his personality but they also serve a purpose in this movie's setting. Donghai not only has a water problem but it also has a poverty problem. We're shown around the beginning of the movie a background character who got a new dress that was a more muted plum purple. From the context of the two characters talking, having a dress like that is a statement of the person's wealth. So in conclusion, Monkey King is pretty loaded. I would like to argue though it's not just from taking expensive hits from Ao Guang, but also from the place he owns. In the beginning of the movie he introduces himself to Li after a race and says he owns the place (likely the whole area including the track since I could not find evidence anyone ever visits the place outside of races). That entire place looks like a water factory, which means he's likely making money from that too since water had become more expensive than currency.

The entire inside of the place he lives would earn another couple of paragraphs too, but it follows just about the same things I've said. Another detail I like, that might have been missed is that he fits the slang "Wrench monkey" pretty well. Just some food for thought.

I really could write a whole essay about him and several things I've noticed but I'm not sure if anyone would read this at all if I kept going. I might make a more in-depth essay sometime though or share my notes on him.

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

Help me learn?

Best friend! Rafayel x inexperienced! Reader

After getting stood up on another date, you find comfort in your best friend Rafayel. But what happens when he offers to give your first kiss?

Warnings/tags: little angst, both reader and Rafayel being a lil dumb, some fluff, smut, p in v, first time reader, blowjob, fingering, use of vibrator, I think that's all?? Not proofread so sorry if there's any mistakes, I'll proof later. Around 7k words 😵‍💫

A/n: haven't written smut in a long time and I may have gone a lil overboard...but I just love this trope and Raffie 😭

Walking through the door of Rafayel's apartment, I sighed, throwing my bag to the ground. “Another dud?” He asked, turning to look at me from the couch. I sighed again.

“Yep. This one didn't even bother to show up,” I informed him. He sighed as well. 

“You need better taste in men,” he stated, turning his focus back to the TV. I frowned. 

“It's not that bad,” I argued. “I just don't understand how people are able to use dating apps so easily and not get stood up every other date. Am I that unattractive?” I asked, feeling insecure. This was the third date in 2 weeks that had stood me up. The ones that did show up were awful, either their manners inexistent or huge red flags. I hadn't dated at all before this, making my insecurities even more rampant. Was I really hopeless? 25 years without so much of a kiss from someone. I was tired of being alone. Inexperienced. But I refused to just have sex with a random guy I didn't like just to say I've had sex. That was proving harder than I thought though. 

“Come sit,” Rafayel patted the seat next to him and I walked over and sat down, resting my head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around my back. “You're not unattractive, quite the opposite really. These guys are just stupid.” 

“You have to say that. You're my best friend,” I argued. 

“I really don't have to say it. I say it because I mean it. Besides I literally tell you when your outfit is atrocious, why would I lie to you?” he teased. 

“Because saying a piece of clothing looks bad on me is very different than telling me I'm ugly. I just don't understand Raf. I try to be nice and do everything right. I'm fucking 25 and never been kissed for gods sake. I can't even get someone to kiss me, so therefore I must be pretty fucking repulsive,” I sniffed. I felt tears approaching and cursed myself for crying over something so dumb. These men didn't even deserve to be kissed, yet they showed no signs of being attracted to me at all. No one ever did. “Is that the problem? No one wants to kiss me because I've never kissed someone? Wouldn't someone like that in some sick weird perverted way? Yet still nothing,” I lamented, tears falling now. “I just feel so fucking stupid. I feel like I should just give up and be alone forever. Live and die a virgin.” Rafayel rested his head on mine with a sigh. 

“I know you won't believe me, but I promise you, you're gorgeous. These guys are really missing out on an incredible woman. You're so kind, caring, fun and so very pretty. It's easy for me to tell you to not place your worth in worthless guys, because it feels worse to be where you are. But try not to? I know one day you'll find someone worth it,” he comforted me. I nodded. His words helped some, but I still felt incredibly insecure. He wiped my tears with his sleeve and moved slightly to grab the remote, wordlessly putting on my favorite show. I stayed next to him for a few episodes, letting his presence comfort me. I wished that I could meet someone like him who cared about me. But all I got was shitty guys. And still no experience. I felt like I was missing out on a big part of life. And that sucked. “Can I stay the night?” I asked him between episodes.

“Of course you can. I'd be happy to binge watch this with you all night and the tub of ice cream sitting in my freezer,” he smiled. I nodded. 

“I'm gonna go wash up then,” I decided. 

“Sure. You know where everything is already.” I got up and headed to his bathroom connected to his room. I stopped by his closet to see if I had some clothes left here. I somehow didn't, even though I could have sworn I left some sweatpants here last time I crashed at his place. I had been stood up again, but had decided to drink away my sorrows. Rafayel had picked me up and brought me here to sleep. 

Instead, I found one of his shirts to sleep in and a pair of his sweats. They'd be big on me, but that was fine. I got into his shower, taking my time to wash up, using all of his fancy expensive products. Rafayel was very particular about his hair and skin care, always buying expensive products. I couldn't say the same for myself, so taking a shower at his place was like a little treat. Once out of the shower I followed up with more of his products, because how could I not. Once I was clean and cosy, I headed back out to his living room, joining him on the couch. For a moment I thought I caught him staring at me, eyes roaming my body and checking me out. I brushed it off, knowing it wasn't possible. He handed me a spoon and opened up the tub of ice cream, setting it between us and beginning to play the next episode of the show. 

It was comfortable. Sitting next to him, eating ice cream, wearing his clothes and watching a comfort show. The pains of being stood up had eased some, my mind being distracted. It was always comfortable with Rafayel. He never judged me for my weirdness or crying over stupid things. In fact, he was just about the only person I ever confided in. He didn't tell me I was weird for not having experience, telling me that it wasn't weird at all and shouldn't make a difference. He was the reason I felt confident enough to try dating. But even with all of this, his next words shocked me. “I could help if you want, you know,” he randomly informed me. 

“Help with what?” I asked, unsure what he was talking about. 

“Kissing,” he stated as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I almost dropped my spoon, surprised. I didn't know what to think or feel. “I just mean,” he paused, growing insecure himself. “If it'll help you feel better to have kissed someone you know before trying to kiss someone you don't, I can. That way you can say you at least have experience in that,” he glanced at me nervously. “But totally cool if you don't want to, I just thought I'd offer. Actually, now that I'm saying it out loud I don't know why I said that. You wouldn't want to kiss me-” 

“Okay,” I interrupted him, surprising myself as well as him. 

“What?” He stared at me, surprised. 

“I mean yeah, it would help. I know you and I feel safe with you so it wouldn't be as scary to kiss I don't think. It could probably help me feel more confident about things. But I don't want to make things weird or anything,” I explained, thinking out loud. It did make sense. I wanted to experience being kissed by someone I knew, not someone random. It was just a kiss. It didn't have to mean anything. He'd show me how and that would be that. Easy solution. After having kissed someone, I think I'd be less scared of initiating that or more with someone else. “Are you sure?” He breathed. 

“Yeah,” I said after a beat of silence, nodding. “You can show me how it's done. You always brag about how every girl says you're the best kisser. So why not learn from the best? It doesn't have to mean anything…” 

“Yeah, uh, okay,” he blinked, realizing that I had agreed to what he thought was a wild suggestion. “So, should we just–” he paused and looked at me. 

“Well I don't know what to do, that's why you're here,” I laughed. 

“Right,” he chuckled. “Here,” he took my spoon from me and set it down along with his spoon and the tub of ice cream on the coffee table. He stared at me expectantly and I tilted my head at him, signaling he was fully in the lead here and I had no idea how to begin. He twisted his body towards me before slowly leaning in. My breath caught in my throat at the distance. I could feel his breath on me, his nose almost touching mine. His head tilted slightly, hesitantly moving closer, before he suddenly stopped and frowned, groaning. “Ugh, at least close your eyes you weirdo,” he whined and I laughed, closing my eyes. I felt him move closer again, anticipation bubbling up in me. His lips gently pressed against mine, capturing them in an unfamiliar sensation. His lips were soft, softer than I would have guessed. He moved them against me, encouraging me to move. I did, hesitantly separating my lips slightly. His slotted between, deepening the kiss. I felt my face heating up, my whole body really. Rafayel's hand gently caught my face, pulling me into him more as our lips danced. My hands shook as I hesitantly reached for him, landing on his thighs. When he felt it, his other hand guided mine to his shoulders, wrapping around him. I scooted closer, wanting more. I gasped as I felt his tongue, teasing and exploring. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. And I wanted more. I felt hot all over, but like I needed to be closer to him. I no longer worried about how I was at kissing, only focusing on how I was feeling. Was kissing always this nice? If it was then I definitely was missing out. I felt like I was suffocating, but made no effort to stop. Rafayel was the one to pull back first, pressing his lips to mine one last time in a quick kiss before resting his forehead on mine. I felt his breath, panting onto mine. I was afraid to open my eyes. Afraid of what I'd see. Insecurity ripped at me once more. Was it awful? Is he repulsed? I peeked open my eyes to see him staring at me with an unfamiliar expression. It was like he was staring into my soul, searching for something or engraving a memory there. He blinked suddenly, backing away. “So yeah, that's uh, how you do that,” he stuttered. He backed away fully and gulped, avoiding my eyes. That scared me more than I thought it would. I took it as a sign that he hated every second, that he'd regretted his decision to offer. I nodded and bit my lip, looking away and praying I wouldn't cry. It felt even stupider to cry over. I sniffled and Rafayel's head shot up to look at me. “Are you crying?” He asked, voice trembling in fear. 

“No,” I lied, sniffing again. 

“What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. I shook my head, too embarrassed to even explain what I felt. “Talk to me, please? What's going on in there?” He pleaded, worried he had done something wrong. He never wanted to hurt me, and if he had accidentally done something to upset me he wanted to know so he could fix it. 

“It's nothing,” I told him, stopping my tears. 

“It's not nothing if you're crying. Should I not have kissed you?” He asked softly. 

“It's not that,” I muttered. 

“Then what is it? Was it so awful and uncomfortable that it made you cry?” He asked, teasing but genuinely worried. 

“Are you sure it wasn't awful and uncomfortable for you?” I asked. His eyes widened. 

“Are you kidding me? Absolutely not. It was perfect,” he breathed. “Did you think I didn't enjoy it?” 

“I mean I don't know. It's not like I know what I'm doing and then you just looked away like I had slapped you,” I admitted. 

“You misunderstand. I did enjoy it, maybe more than I should have,” he slowly admitted. I understood what he was saying and was unsure what to say, so I just nodded. We were best friends. Best friends don't just kiss and enjoy it that much, do they? Is that a rule or something? Had we just ruined everything? Surely we could go back to normal after this…. “I'm gonna wash up,” Rafayel decided, disappearing pretty quickly. I sat on his couch, stunned. Worried. Pretty much feeling every emotion you could feel. Maybe it was a bad idea to kiss my best friend. I had just ruined everything. My one friend. I flopped onto the couch, laying down and hugging a pillow. Thoughts swarmed my head, attacking me. I pushed my eyes closed and wished them away, but instead, sleep greeted me. 

When I woke up I was confused as to where I was. Then I remembered what had happened. The date that stood me up. Rafayel. The kiss. Oh God the kiss. Could we pretend like it hasn't happened and go back to the way things were? Did I even want that? I was in Rafayel's bed and I knew I hadn't fallen asleep there, so he had to have brought me there. That was a good sign? I sat up and stretched, looking around to see Rafayel was not there. I heard movement outside, likely him making breakfast. It wasn't abnormal. I had spent the night with him before and had eaten breakfast with him. That's all this was. Normal. But why did it feel so scary to face him? He said he liked the kiss, but I had a hard time believing that. Either way, the kiss has changed things. And that scared me the most. I didn't want to lose Rafayel and our friendship. I couldn't lose him. So I decided to pretend I felt normal and that my mind wasn't flooded with confused emotions. “Morning,” I greeted Rafayel entering the kitchen. 

“Sleep okay?” He asked, turning to look at me. I nodded. 

“Whatcha making?” 

“Just some eggs.” 

“Perfect, something you can't burn,” I teased. 

“Everyone knows the first three pancakes don't turn out,” he argued. 

“Mm, but that's the first three. Not most of them burning.”

“It was a new pan!” He pouted. “Apparently I should have made more to show you I can make pancakes just fine without burning them.” 

“Next time then,” I chuckled. He shook his head. 

“Better watch it or you're not eating.” 

“You wouldn't dare,” I gasped. 

“Try me,” he sang. I laughed, making him smile. He got a couple plates and handed me one with food on it. We sat and ate as normal. Everything was going pretty normally. Almost too much so. We avoided talking about the night before or really anything even closely related to it. Just talking about surface level things. It felt a bit tense. We were still talking and teasing as usual, but it was different. I prayed it wouldn't last and we'd go back to normal. After we ate, I had to grab my things and head home, having work to get to. 

Almost a full week passed and I hadn't heard anything from Rafayel. That wasn't normal. I was terrified. I was worried I'd messed everything up and would lose him. I couldn't lose my best friend, my only friend. He said he liked the kiss, maybe even too much so…what did that even mean? Did he regret it? Regretted it because now he's repulsed even just by my sight? No. That didn't make sense. Maybe he was like me. The kiss unlocked deeper feelings for him than I had realized were there. But I knew he couldn't feel the same, he always went for the exact opposite of me. He was comfortable with his sexuality, with intimacy and things in general. I wasn't. I was too rigid and anxious. He was carefree and moved with the wind. I never gave myself a chance to think of him romantically. But after the kiss, that had changed. Feeling for him had been building up in the box I buried them in. And they wanted out. All I knew was that the silence was killing me. I couldn't lose him. I had texted him and called and heard nothing. So I took matters into my own hands. 

I knocked on his door, unfamiliar to me, but it felt better than just walking in as normal. He opened the door, looking disheveled- his hair looked like his hands had ran through it countlessly, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and tank top strap sliding down. “Y/n,” his eyes widened. “Wh-what are you doing here?” He asked, seemingly out of breath. 

“You haven't answered me all week-” 

“Rafa?” A woman's voice interrupted me and felt like a slap to my face. It was then I put two and two together…his appearance, a woman's voice calling to him…

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I began, voice shaking as emotions took over. “I didn't realize…bye,” I suddenly spoke, turning and leaving without giving him a chance to say anything. Tears pricked at my eyes, beginning to fall as I felt my heart break. Of course he didn't like me. He only said he enjoyed the kiss to make me feel better. I should have known. I should have kept a better lock on my feelings. I went home and broke down, cursing myself for making things even more complicated. But only more complicated for myself. Rafayel probably couldn't even stand the thought of me. I should have gotten the hint when he didn't say anything for a week. I had messed everything up. 

I woke up to pounding at my door. I had fallen asleep crying last night, heartbroken. Not bothering to change out of my PJs, I got up to answer the door. My eyes widened when I was met with Rafayel. I said nothing, not even knowing what to say after interrupting him yesterday. “Can we talk?” He breathed, looking unsure. I nodded and let him in. We sat on my couch, saying nothing. I didn't know what to say. I was heartbroken over someone who was never mine. My emotions and feelings were all over the place. I didn't know how to feel. “I'm sorry about yesterday,” Rafayel broke the silence. 

“You don't need to be sorry. I'm the one who interrupted you and your company,” I muttered.

“Not that, well yes that. I'm sorry I'm such an asshole. That I did that to you,” he breathed.

“I really don't know what you're talking about Rafayel,” I admitted. He nodded and took a breath. 

“Last week, when I offered to kiss you,” he began. “I did that because I liked you, because I like you. I didn't really mean to say it, but then you agreed and I felt like I had won the lottery. I was going to kiss the girl of my dreams. But then, after, I realized I had messed up. You're my best friend. Like you said, the kiss didn't mean anything. I panicked and worried I had messed up. I tried to tell myself the kiss meant nothing, that what I had felt wasn't that. I tried to get over it, over you, but I can't. It doesn't matter who I see or what I do, all I can think about is you. How your lips felt against mine. How if you were mine I'd get to kiss you whenever I wanted. How you mean everything to me, but I was too afraid to say anything because you were actively dating other people. Actively looking for someone that wasn't me. I thought I was okay with just being friends, that I could get over you, but I can't. It wasn't right of me to do what I did with her yesterday, wasn't right to you or her. And for that I am sorry. It was stupid. But I realized that I can't get over you. No one can replace you, y/n. I want you. I want to be yours. I want to take you on dates and show you how you deserve to be treated unlike all those guys who stood you up. I want to experience your firsts with you. I know it's messed up to say as I'm clearly not a virgin, but thinking about someone else experiencing that with you makes me so jealous. I want you to myself, even though I messed up. I'm sorry.” 

“Kinda weird to apologize about being balls deep in another woman last night and then confess to another woman the morning after,” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He laughed breathlessly. 

“To be fair, I didn't actually sleep with her. I couldn't after I saw you. She was rightfully pissed about it,” he admitted. 

“I was mostly kidding. I was afraid I had messed everything up. I buried my feelings for you when we first met, thinking I'd never have the chance. I didn't know that those feelings grew in the box I buried until you kissed me and they exploded out. Then I saw you with another woman and I figured I was just an idiot,” I shrugged. 

“I'm the idiot. I should have just confessed to you then and there.” 

“We both are. I should have brought it up after. Talked about it with you,” I nodded. An awkward silence grew, feelings out in the open. “So, what now?” I asked, unsure. 

“I show you how sorry I am?” He smiled. I tilted my head, confused. “Let me take you out tonight for dinner. Take you on a proper date?” 

“I'd like that,” I nodded. 

“Aaaaaand if you’re so willing we could go back to my place after and I can make it up to you even more, show you how other things are done,” he smirked. 

“Don't get too far ahead of yourself,” I chuckled. 

“That wasn't a no?” He raised his brow. 

“It wasn't a no,” I agreed. He smiled. 

“I'll see you tonight then? I'll pick you up around 6?” He asked. 

“It's a date,” I agreed. He smiled and nodded. 

“But before I go, I have to do this,” he warned, reaching for my chin and kissing me. He sighed when our lips met, pecking my lips once more before looking at me. “Been thinking about that since last week.” 

“Me too. Now get out of here I have to get ready for a hot date tonight,” I smiled at him. He laughed and stood, leaving me in my apartment. 

The date went well, obviously. Rafayel had showed up with my favorite flowers, dressed nicely. We ate at a restaurant neither of us had been to, but had heard a lot about. It was comfortable. Fun. Somehow, his silliness charmed me as he wiggled his eyebrows and asked if I wanted to go to his place, as I agreed. We were sitting on his couch and I was a bit confused. We had obviously gone back to his place for a reason, we both knew that. Yet Rafayel hadn't made a move. We were just chatting away on his couch. I was getting a bit frustrated. “Rafayel?” I asked suddenly. 

“Yes?” He blinked. 

“When are you going to make a move?” I asked. 

“What?” He stuttered. 

“We both know why we're here, unless I misread every single signal in the book. Do you not want to?” 

“I do!” He quickly spoke. “I just- are you really sure about this? You want me to be your first?” 

“I do. More than anything,” I confirmed, tone serious. He nodded, but still made no effort to move. With everything out in the open once more, I felt a bit more confident. I chuckled before moving to settle on his lap, facing him and pressing my lips to his. Despite my inexperience, Rafayel happily complied, hands resting on my hips and lips moving against mine. The kiss quickly turned more desperate, sending waves of heat to my core. I moved to catch my breath, lowering my lips to his jaw. Rafayel gasped, bit tilted his head back slightly, allowing more room. “Someone's feeling bold now,” he breathed as I moved my lips lower, sucking slightly. His fingers tightened on my hips and I smiled against his skin. 

“Just always wanted to try this,” I admitted. “Can I leave a mark?” I asked, a bit embarrassed. 

“Anything you want,” he breathed, letting out a small moan as I left a small hickey on his neck. “Fuck, you'll be the death of me.” I smiled at him, sitting up to look at him. His cheeks were flushed and eyes lidded with desire. I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chest. “Oh? This fast,” he smirked. I pouted and he laughed, helping me take the rest of his shirt off. 

It wasn't the first time I had seen Rafayel shirtless, but it felt different this time. I hesitantly touched his stomach and he grabbed my hand, leading it to brush down his torso, starting at his chest. My breathing deepened, Rafayel's intense gaze on me. I eyed him curiously, brushing a finger against his nipple. He gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth. “You,” he breathed, surprised. I smirked at him. 

“Figured you'd be all sensitive,” I giggled, feeling more confident and tugging on his nipple now. I continued to play with his chest, squeezing, brushing and flicking to my heart's desires as I watched him wriggle beneath me. His chest rose and fell rapidly, small gasps leaving his throat. He was even more flushed now, redness creeping down his neck. And the best of all, was feeling how hard he was, all because of me. I wanted to try more though. I wanted to hear more from him. Hurriedly, I unbuttoned his pants, trying to push them down. He wasted no time in raising his hips to help me, but stopped me from moving further. “Are you sure you want to?” He breathed, trying to catch his breath. I nodded. 

“I do. I probably won't be that good at it, but I wanna make you feel good,” I explained. He nodded as I sunk to the floor in front of the couch, waiting. He groaned at the sight and threw his head back. “I haven't even done anything yet,” I teased. 

“You're too gorgeous, I don't know if I can even handle you with my cock in your hands or mouth,” he admitted, making me chuckle. I insistently tugged on the band of his underwear and he listened, taking them off. His cock sprung out, almost resting against his stomach, shining with precum. I stared at the sight. “Nothing?” He asked, looking down at me. I shrugged. 

“It's not like I've been this up close and personal with a real dick before,” I rolled my eyes. “It's nicer than I thought. More pretty than pictures, but I also have no idea how that's going to fit.” He chuckled at my honesty. 

“Want some guidance for this or you just wanna go for it?” He asked. 

“Help for now? I wanna know what you like, what you do when you stroke your cock,” I admitted. His jaw dropped, not expecting the lewd words from my mouth. 

“Fuck ok. Give me your hand,” he instructed. He wrapped my hand around his cock, his hand on top to guide me. “Like this,” he demonstrated, moving it up and down and squeezing some. “Don't be afraid to squeeze it more, just have fun and go with it,” he breathed out slowly. I nodded and he removed his hand. I was hesitant at first, moving slowly before deciding to speed up. That was the right move, Rafayel moaning at the pace, his head lulling back. I continued, experimenting as he said to see what he liked. It was not only helpful that Rafayel was vocal, but also incredibly hot. I was burning up, panties sticking uncomfortably to me. Rafayel was whining now, pawing at my shirt. I took it off without hesitating, my lacy bra on full display. He moaned at the sight before throwing his head back. It was then I decided to be even more confident, wrapping my lips around him. He yelped in shock, eyes widening in shock as he looked at me. I smiled at him, humming in content that he was now watching me. “Shit, you like me looking at you like this?” He asked, and I nodded, beginning to bob up and down. His hand gently made its way into my hair, Rafayel using every bit of focus to not thrust into my mouth. “Your tits look so good, fuck. Did you buy that just for me?” He asked, I smiled and nodded, taking him further into my mouth and almost choking. I gagged and Rafayel chuckled. “Careful baby. Take it at your own pace. You can use your hands for the rest,” he suggested. I took his suggestion, using my hands to reach what my mouth couldn't. I found my pace, making Rafayel get louder as he approached his orgasm. I was surprised when he wordlessly pushed my head off of him, his hands reaching down to finish himself off. He cursed as he came, spurts landing on my breasts as I watched him in awe. He had never looked so ethereal, head thrown back as he screamed my name. He recovered almost too quickly, pulling me up onto his lap and kissing me. Before I could ask how I did, he was picking me up and carrying me to his bed, setting me down on it. I gasped as my back bounced against his bed and he dove in immediately, licking up his cum from my chest. I moaned into his touch, the feeling of his tongue on my breasts and the lewd sight of him cleaning me up. “Fuck Raf,” I breathed, chest pounding. He stopped and smiled at me. 

“Did so good for me, let me repay you?” He asked. I nodded and he reached behind me to unclasp my bra, my breasts falling. I was insecure about their size and Rafayel somehow knew this. I had complained multiple times about them being too large for certain tops, he always disagreed. He was more than excited to show them the love he believed they deserved, hand immediately groping them. “Told you they're so pretty,” he mumbled, eyes locked onto them in awe as he played with them. He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around my right nipple, making me whine and arch into him. “Gonna convince you to let me see em more, my pretty girls,” he chuckled, suckling harder before switching. 

“Raf,” I whined, pulling his hair slightly, my chest beginning to hurt from all the attention. He moaned at the feeling, throwing me off. He froze, burying his face in my chest. “Did you just– are you into that?” I asked curiously, tugging his hair again. His hips jerked into my leg as he softly moaned. 

“Don't make fun of me,” he whined, pressing his lips into a kiss between my breasts. He trailed kisses lower and lower, making my breathing deepen as I shuddered. He paused when he reached my pants, looking up at me. “Are you sure you still want this? We can stop at any time,” he asked. I smiled at him. 

“I'm sure. I want this. I want you,” I confirmed. He nodded and I felt his fingers frap the top of my pants. 

“Then let's get these out of the way, shall we?” He smiled, pulling down my pants in one go. He licked his lips when he saw my panties, lacy and matching my discarded bra. “You're so cute,” he breathed, head dropping onto my stomach. “Gonna have to buy you some more sets so I can see you and worship you in them more,” he sighed, pulling them down as well. I bit my lip and looked away, afraid to see his reaction to me completely bare. He wanted none of that, gently turning my chin towards him in a kiss. “You're perfect,” he told me, looking into my eyes and making sure that I knew he meant it. “I know no one's done this before, just tell me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop immediately okay?” 

“Okay,” I breathed as I watched him move lower, settling in between my legs. I felt his breath on me as he breathed in my scent before diving in, licking a teasing stripe across my folds. I gasped at the feeling, legs instinctively wanting to close. Rafayel placed an arm across my hips, the other gently holding my thigh so I wouldn't move. He continues to explore, slurping away as if starved as he moaned. I was doing no better myself at staying quiet, hands finding his hair and pulling slightly. When I looked down, I saw his hips rutting into his mattress, his eyes briefly making contact with mine before he smiled and moved his tongue to circle my clit. My hips jerked, held down by his arm. 

I yelped in half surprise, half discomfort when I felt one of his fingers enter. “You okay?” Rafayel immediately paused. I nodded. “Just bear with it, I promise you'll feel good soon, but if not, let me know.” I nodded once more and his tongue returned, focusing on my clit. After a moment he experimentally moved his finger, gently thrusting it in. He set a slower pace, eventually adding another. “Raf, I,” I began to panic, tugging his hair up. He stopped once again and looked at me, caressing my face. “Is it too much?” He asked. 

“I dont- I don't know,” I managed to get out, feeling unsure. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking for an honest answer in my eyes. I hesitated. 

“Not really. I'm just nervous or something, I don't know,” I tried to explain. He nodded in understanding and pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“We can stop if it's too much, I promise that's okay. I don't want you to be scared or uncomfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?” He paused. “Have you touched yourself before?” 

“Rafayel,” I covered my face, embarrassed. He chuckled and moved my hands. 

“It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I only ask because if there's something you know you like and I can do to make you feel better, I want to do that. More clit stimulation? Less? Slower pace?” He rambled. 

“I…have,” I winced. “But I don't really prefer my fingers and things,” I whispered, embarrassed. He nodded. 

“More of a vibe gal? Does that make it more comfortable?” He asked. I hesitated, still feeling a bit uncomfortable talking about it with him. But he seemed so sincere, it was harder to be completely embarrassed. “It usually helps, yeah,” I admitted. 

“Mm wait here, lemme see what I got,” he said before running off, bare ass out disappearing into his bathroom. I furrowed my brows in confusion, laying there in his bed. He returned with a smile, holding a small black bullet vibe in his hand. “Will this do?” He asked me, showing me. My mouth opened and closed. Where the hell did he get a vibrator? Was it his or some random woman's? Did he get it to use on another woman? 

“Um, probably, but, whos- where,” I stuttered, unsure what to ask or how to ask it. 

“It's mine. Only been used on me too, but I'm willing to share,” he smiled. My eyes widened. 

“You?” I began, he cut me off with a laugh. 

“Everyone masturbates sweetie. I was curious about what it's do for me so I bought one. Didn't really like it, but I'm glad I kept it because now I can use it on you,” he explained. I blinked but nodded slowly. “Now let's just hope this babys got enough battery,” he said before kissing my nose and lowering once again. I felt the cold tip of the vibrator press against my clit and I instinctively pressed into it. It clicked on and I let out a moan at the feeling, relaxing immediately. I felt Rafayel watching me, looking for any reaction from me. He turned it up another notch at the same time I felt his finger enter me again. My back arched slightly. “Better?” Rafayel asked. I nodded. 

“Mmm, yeah,” I admitted. He nodded, beginning to thrust his finger before adding another. He added a third while simultaneously speeding up the vibrator, beginning to move it in small circles on my clit. His fingers began to thrust faster, curling slightly and making me cry out, seeing stars. It was an overwhelming amount of pleasure, coiling up in my stomach. “I'm close,” I warned Rafayel. 

“Mm, go ahead and let go for me baby. Let me see you cum,” he lazily encouraged me, continuing his pace with his fingers and vibe. The tight band in my stomach snapped, an orgasm rolling through me. I whined as I came down, the vibrator still on my clit and overstimulating me. Rafayel had mercy and turned it off, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. I couldn't focus on him, not realizing he had sunk lower until I felt his tongue moving across me, gathering my cum in his mouth as he moaned at the taste. “Raf, it's too much,” I pulled at his hair, dazed. 

“You can handle it, love. Can't let it go to waste,” he slurred out, not making an effort to stop anytime soon. He lazily licked up my cum as I squirmed, overstimulation turning into me wanting more. Rafayel finally deemed his job of cleaning me up done, stopping to kiss me once again. I groaned into it, pulling him closer to me. I was exhausted, but I craved more. “Need you,” I breathed out. He nodded, breaking the kiss and grabbing a condom from his bedside table. He seemed drunk, drunk on my taste and me beneath him. 

“Gonna make you feel good,” he muttered, slipping the condom on and pulling my legs up and onto his shoulders. I blushed, his eyes bore into mine, biting his lip. “God, you're so beautiful. Can't believe you're in front of me,” he admitted, moving his cock between my folds, but not pushing in. I blushed more at his words, not exactly feeling pretty in the compromising position. He looked down, guiding his cock into my entrance before looking at me for any signs of discomfort. I breathed in sharply at the intrusion and Rafayel was quick to reach over and grab the vibrator, turning it on the lowest setting and pressing it to my clit. “Relax for me baby. Let me in,” he instructed. My body reacted, letting him push into me further. He dropped the vibrator when he was all the way in, both of us moaning at the feeling, the vibrator forgotten and still buzzing to the side. Rafayel breathed heavily, letting me adjust. What once felt like pain began to be pleasure and I needed him to move, my hips grinding up onto him. He groaned, and got the hint, hips slowly moving back, cock almost slipping out before he moved his hips back in. The pace was unbelievably slow for both of us. “Feels so good,” Rafayel muttered. 

“So full. I need more,” I told him, pace too slow. He nodded, picking up the pace by thrusting into me faster, still pulling out slow. Rafayel watched me as he moved, jaw dropped in awe when he slammed into me fully, soaking in the feeling when he pulled out. It was addicting. But not enough. I clawed at his arms, begging him to speed up. “I don't know if I can keep it together,” he warned. 

“Then don't. Please Rafayel, I can take it. I need more. I need you,” I cried. He nodded and his pace immediately switched, pounding into me as quickly as he could. I cried out, holding onto whatever I could of his. His eyes never left me, watching my face or my body, watching the way everything moved as he pounded into me, watching where we were connected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the buzzing vibrator and got an idea, reaching for it. He turned it up and pressed it against my clit, the vibration making me scream his name. The vibration was strong enough for him to feel it, his cock being sucked in deliciously while the vibrator added extra stimulation to it. “Fuck, you're taking me so well. I'm not gonna last much longer,” he warned. 

“I can't!” I breathed, not even able to form sentences. Rafayel smirked, proud of himself for getting me into this state. 

“Cum with me,” he demanded, thrusting a few more times before coming undone, exploding into the condom. I came just as quick, milking him for all he had, squirting slightly on his cock. Rafayel collapsed onto me, wrapping his arms around me. We stayed like that for a while, coming down from our highs and returning to reality. “Oh my God,” I breathed, embarrassed when I realized that I had squirted. “Did I really?” 

“Mmm yeah. Didn't think I'd make you feel good enough to squirt on my cock,” he teased. “Gonna set my expectations high.” 

“I'm sor-” 

“Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. That was fucking hot. Nothing you did today was bad. You were absolutely perfect. More than perfect. Everything I could have ever wanted and more. So don't apologize,” he cut me off. I nodded. We stayed like that a bit longer, until Rafayel sighed. “We should get cleaned up,” he reasoned but didn't move. 

“We should,” I agreed. 

“Before that, and I'm totally not saying this just to stay here a bit longer, we should talk?” 

“About what?”

“I wanna make sure you had a good time and you felt good. That everything was okay or if there's anything I can do next time?” He asked, kissing my jaw. 

“I can assure you that was probably the best I've ever felt. It was perfect. You were perfect. Is there anything I should change or do?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“If you having no experience felt like that, I can't wait for more,” he laughed. I laughed with him and he sighed, getting up and pulling out. After disposing of his condom, he picked me up and carried me to his bathroom, placing me on the counter while he ran a bath. Rafayel put me in the bath before getting in behind me, wrapping his arms around me again. He was always clingy, but felt extra clingy now. I was perfectly okay with that. He helped clean me up, noticing I was on the verge of sleep. Once we were done, he helped me out of the bath and info some of his clothes to sleep in. He practically clung to me when he got into his bed after me, holding me closely and pressing a kiss to my neck. “Thank you for trusting me. Sleep well my love,” he whispered. 

“Thank you for taking care of me. Sweet dreams fishie.” 

[taeaura]

I've been thinking about this for a while because I haven't actually seen or read any Thomas Hewitt x reader fanfic where the main character is a meek/shy individual with an emotional nature. By that, I mean somebody who is timid, not self-assured, soft-spoken, gentle, pacifistic, and often afraid to speak up for himself/herself. Not to mention that if being mocked or bullied, will start to tear up a bit and become more secluded.

Every time I read about Y/n, they are always this Mary Sue like temple who still ends up with odd or disrespectful issues. Like there's too many of them. Get rid of them! Bring me something new! Because I have no idea what the Hewitt's would do with that sort of person. Especially if it was a female instead of a male. What would Thomas and the family do with such a person? In theory, it seems obvious, but I genuinely don't know.

Hi again! I broke this up into headcanons as well as a little one shot - Hope that's okay!

Below are other posts dealing with similar topics if you'd like to view those additionally:

Soft-spoken s/o | mauswyx

Slashers x Socially Anxious! Reader | tac-the-unseen

Thomas Hewitt x Meek/Emotional Reader

This GIF felt fitting idk why god I wish that was me

_____

Thomas is a shy individual himself - Knowing this, I doubt he'd have an issue with any aspect of your nature. He'd actually be more protective of you than of someone who's much more..vocal about their displeasure.

Thomas doesn't mind the timidness, he's fully willing to be the 'strong' one in the relationship..he's kinda been forced into the roll within his family.

Charlie will tease you. A lot. He knows what gets on your nerves, how to pry under your skin - What makes you tick, cry, and breakdown; It's a favorite pastime of his, that is, when you're still a 'guest' captive.

He'll bring up traumatizing moments, taunting you with the possibility of 'ending up like the rest.' Hoyt pulls strings not even you knew were there:

"One word, and you'll end up splattered 'cross this damn wall."

{If you're fem-presenting} "Momma only likes you 'cause you're a girl, Once she see's how much of a harlot you are, she'll throw you right on out."

Once he's gotten used to you {or you've proved your 'worth'}, he'll switch things up a bit:

"Y'know, Tommy's got a real sensitive heart..you break it, s'not gone end well for any of us."

{Talking to a family member} "They're not too bad, huh? Small, quiet, always does as they're told, not too much of a hassle, now, are they?"

--

Thomas won't necessarily stand up for you, but he'll comfort you almost immediately

If you're ever in a particular mood, Thomas is pretty respectful of boundaries. If you need to be left alone, he's just fine with that. He might leave you a note and slide it under your door - Just a quick little "I love you" or something similar.

If you prefer direct comfort, he's fully willing to let you cry it out , or vent to him. He won't be able to respond much, but know he's processing it all. Depending on how comfortable the two of you are, he's willing to hold you/your hand, some pats on the back and such.

Any comfort you show him, he'll show back. For example; If you gently wipe/caress his face down after {or when} he cries, he'll do the same for you. Ask for what you want, and he'll do just that..most of the time 🫀

--

Thomas isn't a huge fan of confrontation - Anything confrontational outside of 'work', really. He knows his 'place' in the family, and isn't willing to push it {aka, argue with his family}. He won't argue for you, or get any family members to stop their pestering, but he will kill for you. Anytime a victim gets too close, he's got something sharp in his hands.

If they hurt you {or anyone in the family, really}, whether it be emotionally or physically, prepare for the goriest, most blood-caked basement you've ever encountered. He needs to take his anger out, and believe me, he will - Even with your pacifistic pleas.

--

Outside of his protective nature, your pacifistic and emotional nature tends to rub off on Thomas. He knows what he's doing, and how important it is to the family - But he gets moments of doubt at times, which are amplified around you.

Those people had lives..families just like his.

Meat.

Meat is all they are.

Don't fail the family, Thomas. They're {you} disposable, family isn't.

_____

Everyone was overwhelmed with the new..'livestock' that came in this afternoon. Although a small group, they fought hard. Hoyt had gotten his nose punched in just thirty minutes prior - It was all crooked and overflowed with blood dripping down his cupid's bow. Momma had gotten it taken care of - Thomas had helped 'realign' his nose best he could, whilst momma helped pack the bleeding. Hoyt would sure swell up and bruise within the next few days..if he hasn't already..

Instead of trying to rest, he bombarded you with insults - "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You didn't think to tell us one of them got out?" - "How fucking useless are you?!" He was really mad at you for that one..

Just like last time, you cried. Frantic, raw, disheveled cries. You fucked up...badly. The thought plagued you terribly, it ate away every ounce of assurance you had. I'm sorry..I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..it rung through your mind, but your body was paralyzed as it knelt on the carpet; You wouldn't be speaking for quite some time..

It wouldn't matter anyway - Hoyt wasn't the type to hear it. You put the family in danger, that's all that mattered. It didn't matter if you were "sorry" or not - You threatened the Family. Who the hell do you think you are? After all we've given you? Food, shelter, safety, a place of purpose?

Ungrateful. That's what you are. A selfish, clumsy, inconsiderate ingrate.

You were shaking - Desperate to apologize, make it up to them. Your hands covered your face, leaving only small opening to peer through. The room was lit only by a small, vintage lamp in the corner, though that light suddenly blurred within darkness -

You felt your hands being pried from your face, though gently. It was Thomas - Wasn't much of a surprise, he was always the one to ground you.

He held eye contact with you as he lightly dusted away your tears with the backside of his index finger. He held your shaking hands tenderly, placing them at your knees. As he let go of your hands, he slowly raised his {hands} back to your face, tilting his head slightly as if to ask for permission -You continued to sniffle and gasp, providing a small, shaky nod in affirmation. Thomas benevolently grasped your cheeks, wiping tears as he did. You and Thomas had developed this wordless affirmation - a way to ground each other in times of need; He placed his forehead to yours. You often joked that you two 'looked like bugs' from the unconventional angle, and he'd chuckled best he could. He loved you. Truly, loved you.

The room was unusually silent - You looked beside you to see Luda Mae and Hoyt gone, only Uncle Monty facing the window as he read the news. Momma must've dragged Hoyt out...thankfully. You finally looked back at him, he really did look like a bug from this angle.., but he was the sweetest man. He left you a note earlier this morning, right after Charlie had yelled at you the night before:

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby - I love you.

-Thomas

_____

I hope this isn't too bad - Love you guys thank you so much for the request 🫀

[goldfades]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 ─ KM²⁰

౨ৎ ─ summary | REQUESTED: "Okay there's a criminally low amount of Kate martin fics like that's literally my wife 😞 buttt my idea is Kate x reader where reader plays another sport at Iowa and gets injured at a game and Kate is js there with reader and takes care of her after the diagnosis. I js reinjured my knee for the 4th time and would love sum like that 😭🙏"

─ word count | 886

─ warnings | cute teasing/banter, mentions of injuries (duh), pretty much nothing but sweet, tooth-rotting fluff!

─ taglist | my wcbb taglist is in my bio! fill it out to be tagged:)

─ ev's notes | hope you heal your knee, nonnie! hope this fic made you feel better:) MY FIRST WCBB REQUEST!!!!!!! i'm so happy, please send in moreeeee! also so happy it's for kate my love, she is so nucnuncexijizjiuncru. anyways, enjoy!!!!!!!!

"I'M FINE, REALLY." YOU TRIED TO pry Kate's hands off your hips as she led you into your dorm.

You couldn't help but laugh at Kate's concerned expression. You'd just twisted your ankle and could barely walk. You were on strict instructions from the doctor to stay off the ground and most importantly, stay off the field.

And knowing Kate, she would make sure that you followed those orders because you didn't, you'd get hurt again. You were stubborn and she knew that, but she was equally as stubborn when it came to taking care of you. She cared about you deeply, and sometimes her worry could be a bit overwhelming, but you knew it came from a place of love and genuine concern for your well-being.

As she helped you settle onto your bed, you couldn't help but appreciate her persistence even if she was a little overbearing.

Despite your protests, Kate insisted on fetching ice packs and pillows to elevate your injured ankle. She hovered around you, fussing over every detail, making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

With a sigh, you finally relented, accepting her help and allowing yourself to relax. You knew that with Kate by your side, you'd recover in no time. Plus, having her around made the whole situation a lot more bearable.

As she sat beside you, you couldn't help but smile at her, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Kate," you said softly.

She glanced back at you, a smile playing on her lips. "You don't have to thank me, that's what I'm here for. How's it feeling now?"

You shifted slightly, testing your ankle gingerly. "It still hurts a bit, but the ice is helping. And having you here definitely makes it better."

Kate let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "You're such a flirt, you know that?"

"Oh shush, you love it." You teased back, a smirk playing on your lips.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, but you could see the warmth in her gaze. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do," she admitted, her tone teasing.

You leaned into your bed, trying to ignore the pain that was still lingering in your ankle. You couldn't believe this was your second injury this season ─ at this rate, you weren't gonna play for the rest of the season.

You yawned as you glanced at the clock in your room before snapping your head back to Kate. "Kate! You're gonna be late for practice, get up!"

Kate laughed a little as she shook her head. "I told them I'm not going."

You scoffed as you raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You what? Since when do you skip practice?"

Kate shrugged nonchalantly. "Since my girlfriend decided to twist her ankle and needs me here to take care of her."

You couldn't help but smile at her words. "Kate, you don't have to do that. I'll be fine on my own."

She gave you a pointed look. "And you'll be even better with me here. Plus, me missing one practice won't kill me."

You chuckled, realizing that arguing with Kate was futile when she had made up her mind. "Alright, alright, you win. But only if you promise to make me some of your famous hot chocolate later."

Kate grinned. "Deal."

As you settled in with Kate by your side, you couldn't help but feel a wave of warmth wash over you. With her there, even the pain in your ankle seemed more bearable.

"Thanks, Kate," you said softly, squeezing her hand.

She smiled back at you, her eyes filled with reassurance. "Of course, that's what I'm here for."

She squeezed you in closer as your head fell on her shoulder. "I can't believe I'm not going to play in next week's game."

Kate knew that this was going to be hard for you, a twisted ankle wasn't going to heal as quickly as you wanted. Kate wrapped her arm around you as you leaned into her shoulder. "I know, it sucks," she said empathetically. "But your health comes first, always. And hey, you'll be back on the field before you know it, kicking ass like you always do."

You sighed, leaning into her warmth. "I just hate feeling so helpless, you know? I want to be out there with the team, not stuck in bed."

"They'd want you to recover. You can't help them by playing when you're injured and then getting more hurt ─ it won't do anything." Kate murmured, running her fingers through your hair soothingly. "You'll be back before you know it. And in the meantime, you've got me to keep you company."

You grinned, feeling a little lighter at her words. "You're right, I shouldn't worry too much."

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you leaned into her touch. "You shouldn't, I promise you will heal and be back in no time."

You nodded, taking comfort in her reassurance. "Thanks, Kate. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled, her blues eyes soft with affection. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

You leaned in closer as Kate reached for the remote on this night stand. "Now enough with this sappy stuff, what do you feel like watching tonight?"

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[liedownquisition]

Ooh, care to share what are your opinions on the personality distinctions between pre-crisis Dick and Jason?

Okay so, I don't know how coherent my thought process here is going to be so bear with me, but there's a few things I want to acknowledge first and foremost because they play a SIGNIFICANT part in how each character is, well, characterized. I'm also going to try as best as I can to compare them at similar ages but, well, if you know anything about comics and also in light of some of the points I bring up in this post, I think you'll understand why that's so difficult.

Additionally, look. There are like... soooo many comics, yeah? I'm going to focus on characterization specifically in Detective/Batman comics because frankly I don't want to hunt down examples from every comic he's appeared in or have to deal with potentially conflicting characterizations from different titles, there's enough of that in just these two.

The biggest reason I say is that at the time that Robin was originally added to Detective comics (#38), it was still something of an anthology of multiple stories in one book. Batman's adventures took up something like 11-13 pages and were completely self-contained. The Batman comic was started, if I'm not mistaken, after Detective #39, and while it is (almost) completely devoted to Batman, it also contains multiple stories in one issue and each is largely self-contained. Conversely, by the time that Jason is introduced, most storylines bounce back and forth between Detective Comics and Batman, and often last for several issues each. It also takes up more of the Detective comics pages (I wanna say something like at least 16?) and only has 2-3 stories (often, actually, Green Arrow & Black Canary stories, lmao.) (If I'm not mistaken, I believe both Detective Comics and Batman released monthly but two weeks apart from each other, so you'd be able to get your Batman fix every two weeks? Or at least, that's how it was before they started bouncing storylines back and forth, but I have to assume it's something similar given the consistency with which the stories zig-zag.)

This means that generally speaking we spend a lot more time developing characters later on in the comics. Dick, for a long period of his run, I feel has a more implied personality than a displayed one, but what he does is also heavily informed by his role in the comic and his relationship with Bruce. When Jason comes in, his role and relationship is different and that also informs his characterization.

So, I guess, let's start with that.

So, first of all, Dick is never* Rarely referred to by Bruce in Pre-Crisis with any familial language, Also Rarely* does he refer to Bruce with any. We often like to use the modern comics' interpretation of their relationship as father and son, especially since DC has pivoted their market onto their superhero "families," and I'm not going to argue that the idea of raising a child from the age of, say, eight or nine up until adulthood is pretty parental. I've made these arguments before, but it's important context to understanding his "personality" that he's not treated like that in the actual writing.

*Edit: I stand corrected on the "familial language" point. Unfortunately it looks like some of the issues listed here are ones I'd skipped because the image quality in the archive I was using was bad enough to give me a headache. Still, I don't really think he feels like a "child" in a majority of the cases that aren't literally centered on the idea of him being a child.

Dick was, from the get go, introduced to be Batman's partner, so his joining was a foregone conclusion they didn't waste too long deliberating. He was originally just supposed to be under Bat-Witpro but then Bruce activated turbo mode on his trauma projection beam and the rest is history:

Detective Comics #38

As far as either of them are concerned, they are each other's "best/closest friends," and as far as the narration uses, Dick is Bruce's aide or sometimes protege. It's not until some, what, few hundred comics later I think*? They'll start referencing him as Bruce's ward more often. *In Detective at least. Apparently I wasn't searching through Batman thoroughly enough and missed a few things, per above link.

Batman #3

Batman#359

Detective Comics#43, Batman#3

On a more... practical sense, you could say that Dick is the Watson to Bruce's Sherlock, albeit with an added flair of "training him to also be like Sherlock" kinda deal. This, imo, is reinforced with how often you see Bruce smoking a pipe while the two of them are talking, usually with Dick asking a lot of questions and Bruce answering them pretty authoritatively:

Batman#1

Contrast it to Jason, who literally the very next story after he's taken in by Bruce, starts referring to him as his "new father."

Detective Comics#526 (As a slight aside, another point to the, I suppose arguably "personality" differences here is that Bruce was going to send Dick back to Haly's, but Dick wanted to stay. Meanwhile Jason was the one suggesting he'd go back to Sloan Circus, and was diverted by Bruce's offer. He does also run away and go back to the circus later but we'll get to that)

Detective Comics #527 - I'd originally had two cuts from this issue including the previous one where Jason's saying "Batman's like a father to me now, I have to help him" but I ran out of images and decided if I'm sacrificing one that was the best option. Yes, I could theoretically use an image software to fuse some of these together. it's 3 AM, I'm not doing that.

Now, a not insignificant part of the above is later framed as Jason trying to prove himself so that Bruce will let him join him in his fight, but I'm going to be honest, given that Batman #361 (immediately prior to the above) has Jason enjoying an acrobatic routine with Bruce and then having a slight melancholy flashback about his parents being dead, I'm more inclined to believe that Jason scared of losing another parental figure so soon after losing the last ones, and he's clinging on to Bruce with all of his might because he's a scared child who's recently been uprooted from everything he's ever known.

It's not quite explicit, but as Jason notes that Batman had some clever tricks but that he'd needed Jason's help to win, it feels like Jason's trying to take control of the situation. His parents' deaths at Killer Croc's hands (Which were, tbh, largely Bruce's fault imo. He asked them, average & untrained civilians, to help him snoop around Croc's extortion outfit, and even lashed out at Dick when he suggested it was too dangerous for them. Yes, Bruce has a lot on his mind, but still) were completely out of Jason's hands. He couldn't even try to save them and didn't even find out they were dead until he was trying to warn Batman about a plot against him and overheard Batgirl telling Bruce about it, and, well, gestures above. He can't not want to save what little he does have left.

What all of the above really adds up to is that generally speaking even in his more "childish" moments, Dick is narratively handled as an adult. Yeah, he makes jokes and is dashingly daring, perhaps a bit more impulsive than Batman and occasionally damsel-ified, but he's not exactly that much more of a punster than Batman and his own quips tend to be.

And, I'll be honest, I can't help but wonder if the contrast between "miniature adult" Dick Grayson and "actually a kid" Jason Todd, is part of why he wasn't very well liked by some readers. After all, look at how a lot of people modernly react to more emotional younger characters like, say, Shinji from NGE or Steven from SU. When Dick is shown being emotional, idk, in the earlier comics it feels much more abbreviated and easy to gloss over. This applies to female characters as well, of course, and generally even moreso, but considering Jason's a boy character I felt relating it specifically to other boy characters who have that issue was more appropriate.

(The above gets worse when he's rebooted, because he IS definitely still framed as a child, with more volatile emotions like a child, but a child who "had to grow up too soon," which STILL reads differently from Dick being written effectively as a small adult.)

Anyways, as a result of this difference I'd like to make something clear: Dick Grayson has always been a far more serious character (personality-wise) than the cheery, bright colors of his costume and the concept of him as a circus performer might make him seem. And yes, even the puns, which at the time Bruce also made all the time. Dick, for the most part, is fairly content with his life until he gets older and starts butting heads with Bruce.

I do feel like in some ways it's a bit harder to really nail down a single, clear personality for him especially in the older comics, because there's not a lot of time spent exploring it, per the whole above thing on less pages and self-contained adventures. Honestly, if anyone wants to add on more panels and a more specific description for Dick, including outside these two titles, please feel free because I've been combing through hundreds of comics trying to find some more tangibly descriptive options for specific traits, but frankly the best panels I've found for him aren't until we get closer to, say, Detective #400 and such, which he's in college during and therefore I think is an unfair comparison.

But fundamentally, the core of Dick's personality is this, repeated at the beginning of nearly every issue, he's supposed to be more spur-of-the-moment and courageous (and quippy, but so is Bruce... until he starts sometimes randomly-but-not-always being a sourpuss about puns during Jason's run????). Where both are people of action, Robin lacks the "adult" patience, and making him a child is pretty much there as a means of excusing his impulsiveness. He's of course still incredibly clever, especially after Batman trained him, and is often sent on undercover missions alone.

And, y'know, an independent streak a mile wide. I would definitely say that in the long run he's a lot more mature than Jason, point blank, and he's pretty much got a handle on this whole crime fighter thing right outta the box as soon as he's trained up.

Jason though? Jason is frequently and consistently denied parts of Bruce's life in a way I would argue makes him crave a more dependent (and reliable) relationship:

Batman#363

Batman#395

If I had to really draw a strict line between the two on their biggest difference it's insecurity. Jason is full of it, and even after he becomes Robin he hinges so much on his relationship with Bruce and proving that he's important to Bruce, that he ultimately cripples is other relationships. (See: Rena)

Honestly, it's so weird to see Jason's writing here sometimes, because he'll have very natural misconceptions and feelings of discontent, and then it feels like it gets artificially tied to the fact that Bruce won't let him be Robin.

On the other hand, It feels very much like Jason won't settle for anything less than Bruce's full attention, and I can't say I entirely blame him: he's a kid and Bruce is all he has. With how much of Bruce's life is consistently upended by his role as a crimefighter... who would want to be only part of the life that gets upended? Who wouldn't want to feel more secure by knowing they aren't just being blown off? ... After all, we have a perfect example of this in Bruce's constant abandonment of Vicki Vale, which runs parallel to Jason's own insecurities.

First, third, and fourth are from Detective #530, second one is from Batman #364

Jason is deeply, deeply insecure, and, with the exception of anger issues (arguably), most of the things Jason gets accused of modernly, are actually more accurate for describing Pre-Crisis Jay: recklessness, a need to prove himself, being a bit of a glory-hog... which is all generally attributed to the fact that he's young, and it's forgivable for it... most of the time.

Honestly, I would go so far as to say that, with the exception of the victim-blamey tone they have about it and his motives, you could argue that if enough of the pre-crisis cases were considered canon then you could almost say they're right in ascribing those traits to him.

Batman #368

Detective #535* which, I'll say you could arguably take some of this with a grain of salt. Jason is hypnotized, but does later mention that he was only hypnotized to act certain ways at certain times and was able to decide for himself what to do outside of them.

But I'm going to reiterate: A lot of it feels like a need to have more control in his life, and a constant presence by Bruce's side. He wasn't there when his parents died, and found out by coincidental timing after the fact. I feel like he does tend to display some separation anxiety from Bruce, and is very worried about losing him.

This is a somewhat decent page about that from Detective #534 after he choked out Ivy (who'd previously been choking him out first) to save Batman:

(It was emphasized earlier in this same comic that Ivy had gone to a length that they'd likely need to "take the gloves off" and take extreme measures to stop her)

Despite being really excited to work with Batman, he very quickly learns the drawbacks in ways that cast him with a lot of self-doubt, including the above kidnapping from Manbat, another almost-kidnapping out-of-costume via Chimara, being assaulted because of Crazy Quilt's obsession and hatred for Robin specifically despite having no clue who the villain was and everyone assumes he's the same Robin as there's always been... Consequences Dick didn't struggle with nearly as much or, in some cases, never faced at all.

I definitely probably missed some stuff but at this point I don't think I'm making myself any more clear unless someone asks me about a specific point lmao.

[mywifealhaitham]

pre release boothill relationship headcanons!!!

a/n: I'm fiending off crumbs... I've wanted to read some x reader of him but theres none so I gotta write it myself. I hope the other 4 boothill fans enjoy

warnings: gn!reader, like 2 gendered pet names (pretty girl/boy), most of this is written with bias because we don't have alot to go off, obviously written prerelease, when we actually get content of him I'll definitely be rewriting

LEAKS AHEAD!!!

bc: Valentine_DD_ on twt

- Boothill is described as a righteous person if his bottom line doesn't get crossed, so he definitely treats you good. probably more on the protective side when it comes to you, he's probably not afraid to use his gun if someone is threatening you.

- and believe me he's intimidating. from his overall tough and "unruly" cowboy look to his mechanical body it leaves enemies just a little challenged. he lowers his voice too and probably has a more fierce look in his eyes too. after any threats have been delt with he probably turns to you and turns into the sweetest thing ever, a wide grin across his face and his hands on your cheeks peppering you with small kisses.

- Its said he's a bit sophisticated due to his experiences so I'd like to imagine sometimes he charms you with facts and details about other planets or just genuinely sharing some tips and tricks he's picked up from other cultures. he's also a person who can get along with others pretty well but he can easily give strangers an impression he's selfish and is a bad person.

- again this kinda feeds into he's basically you'd guard dog... but I mean who wouldn't want to be saved by a handsome and sweet cowboy. despite his unpredictable personality and looks he's a huge gentleman for sure. always opens doors and pulls out chairs for you, makes sure your behind him and okay if any danger approaches and practically listens to your every command (lowkey giving off my girl and I don't argue she tells me to shut up and I do)

- one part I'm so excited to see is what they mean by he's illiterate and using metaphors. it's probably just him using slang but it's still kinda cute. I feel like his cheesy and strange metaphors turn into pick up lines when talking to you. perhaps he'll pull a "did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" or something cheesier. Definitely a huge nickname guy, almost never uses your real name. I'm guessing he'd use stuff like doll, sugar, baby, pretty girl/boy and more teasing names. heavy on doll and sugar and just imagine him saying it in a deep southern accent... 😍 kicking my feet. also I imagine he loves making you giggle by not cursing (because he literally cant) and normally he'd get pissed if someone laughed at him like that if it's you he doesn't mind at all.

- that's pretty much it for like analyzing the leaks I saw but now the stuff up ahead is just bias yapping because I always project

- HE DEFINITELY IS A HAND KISSER. greets you by getting on one knee, holding his hat to his chest and kissing your hand. makes eye contact with you too and does that toothy smirk of his IM SWOONINGGG

- maybe he's a dancer! pulls you into his arms and places his hat on your head when a good song plays in taverns. even if your clueless on any type of dances then he'll pull you along to the beat whispering Instructions in your ear.

- gets so lovesick when drunk it drives everyone mad. any folks he's sitting with at a bar gets a whole speech on his wonderful beautiful darling who he owes his live and would happily die by their hand. and may God save you when you come pick him up because he'll be all over you. Immediately he wraps a arm around your waist as he slurrs his hello as he proceeds to tell you he loves you like 40 times. besides the mass amounts of kisses you'll receive once you both reach a private spot he let's some feelings that he might be too shy to share normally, holding your face as he calls you his pretty girl/boy and how he's so lucky to have you.

- honestly not the best for cuddling however unfortunately he needs to cuddle you to sleep so goodluck! his metal body isn't completely uncomfortable it's just cold alot. he tries to get around this by literally preheating himself with blankets before you go to bed.

very bad boothill brainrot atm... only a few more weeks until we get official content 😭 everyone hold hands we got this

here's the actual leaks if anyone is curious ^_^

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, while it's certainly not my intention to talk about pages of the bill book basically every day, it seems every time I write one post I end up thinking about something else. Here's the next something else.

This time it's these two pages. There are several things that are odd to me here. Not necessarily on their own, but when compared with the journal.

First and foremost, I want to use something that struck me here for a quick bit of doyalist analysis. (I know, I know.) Several people have said to me they didn't believe Alex had gone back and read through journal 3 again, and this could be a reason why things are so different and contradictory. But the thing is, these pages hold lines that are strikingly similar.

That top image is small, so I'm going to zoom in on what I mean. These are lines from that first book of bill page:

Here is a line from the "hiding places" page of journal 3:

and here is another line, from the page after this one:

You could argue that the thing about the caves is a plot point, and something Alex might've remembered. But part of Ford's motivation to get going to the caves so soon being the snowfall? Well, I certainly didn't remember that anyway. It's pretty a minute detail. Could its inclusion mean nothing? Maybe. But maybe not.

And if you read past my carefully placed initial highlighting, you'll also notice that lines inclusion is slightly different in the two versions.

Like I said, in journal 3, the pushing factor in getting Ford to make his trip with haste is worrying about the soon to be inclement weather.

But in the Book of Bill he mentions "little time". Why? Because of what's been written down on the previous page:

Im not going to paste the whole thing in here, because it's very heavy. But Ford has been given an express time limit by Bill.

Why then, is the snow even worth bringing up in the first place? I'm having a hard time getting the words together. But I just find it all very odd.

But the similarities between these pages and the ending of the first act of journal 3 aren't all I want to talk about. There's more differences than just the specifics of the snow line.

So, Differences:

This first one is small, but notable to me at least. On the matter of Fiddleford, here's what the Book of Bill had to say:

And here's what Journal 3 had to say:

Fiddleford being "gone" is a lot different from Fiddleford "refusing to speak" to Stanford. The former implying Ford couldn't reach out even if he wanted, the later implying he's made attempts that have failed.

And it's important to remember that the narrative is the Book of Bill pages were ripped out. Ford has written Fiddleford is missing, rips out the page, and decides upon next re-write that Fiddleford just isn't talking to him?

.

The next thing is a really big difference, and requires the addition of two more original Journal 3 pages. It also requires a new question to be asked: "Where do the two Bill pages I've shown fit within the journal?"

Here are the new pages that will be submitted into evidence added into this post:

Though I want to mainly focus on this second one,

The page where Ford's plan all starts to come together. It's worth noting this page comes before the "Hiding places" page I've shown before.

The order of events as laid out by Journal 3 are:

Ford goes to and escapes the truck stop and notices the twin motel sign, realizing he can contact Stan -> Ford lays out where he's going to hide the journals and that he's going to make the trek up to Bill's cave -> Ford fully discloses his plan to hand journal 1 off to Stan.

The Bill Book pages I've been discussing are directly after the page of Bill tormenting Ford within his mind. (Again, not going to post that page due to the subject matter). But we see that the top of the first page says "I awoke from the hallucination" so chronologically it's safe to assume there were also no non-missing pages in between them.

which means the order of events as laid out by the Book of Bill are:

Bill torments Ford within his mind -> Ford futilely searches for clues to Fiddlefords whereabouts -> Ford announces he must make his trip to the caves -> Ford realizes he must contact Stan.

The Bill book is stating "Ford came up with his plan first, and realized he needed to add Stan second."

The journal is stating "Ford was able to come up with his plan upon realizing Stan can help him."

These are very different ideas. And while it's framed in a bit of a cheesy way, I think that Journal 3's idea is very important. Despite everything stacked up against him at this point, Ford was able to keep going and come up with his plan upon realizing that he's not all alone. And specifically, working together with Stan has been the key to defeating Bill since the beginning.

If we are to take the Book of Bill's idea as truth, what of the trip to the truck stop diner and the twin motel sign? When is this supposed to have happened? Is it trying to claim it didn't at all? It's a bit silly, but I don't find it to be fake personally. Nor do I think Ford would have any reason to waste time and pages concocting a fake narrative at this point in his story. In both narratives, Bill is tormenting him every time he loses consciousness, he is exhausted from both the abuse and his general lack of sleep. He does not have time to spare.

But that's not the end.

This book of Bill page:

And this Journal page:

Are sort of paired off again, aren't they?

Supposedly, the "Should I contact S?" Bill page takes place before this journal page with the perpetual motion machine, as this page says Ford has already "Sent word to him".

Ford includes his own mini pros and cons list here, with notably more pros

There are also less cons. The idea Bill might get to Stan, or the idea Stan might destroy the portal no longer seem to be concerns.

Do the pages contradict? Well, not really aside from the order of events I've laid out. But that's sorta the thing, right?

Ultimately the two pages I've been discussing stand out to me because they're re-writes of things already in J3. Very similar except for the big hole of cutting out Ford's motel story.

Ford's supposedly on a mad 72 hour time-limit dash to make all his final arrangements to best Bill. He is at the end of his rope from the nonstop torment he's been subjected to. Does he really have both the time and the energy to be re-writing journal pages just because he didn't like them, let alone adding in entire new false narratives? And even if he does, why would he change it so that remembering Stan becomes the catalyst for his plan to outwit Bill?

[irisintheafterglow]

live, laugh, pro racer!gojo :))

and, wow! just look at that absolute speed demon go!

"speed dumbass seems to be a more fitting description," you remark in response to the announcer's excited narration, sending quiet snickers through the pit crew behind you. "hey, hotshot. let up a little on those hairpins or your engine's gonna overheat," you radio through to his earpiece and pray to the racing gods that he listens. as if to spite you, he accelerates more aggressively through the following turn, causing a concerning but not impactful spike in temperature.

"only reason they'll overheat is 'cause you're on the line, pretty."

"it's my job on the line if you break down, satoru."

"i'm well aware of that, sweetheart," comes his voice from the other end. you were painfully aware of the thousands of spectators watching his point of view and listening in on your conversation. "rest assured, i won't get you fired."

"that's not up to you," you remind him, clicking through the telemetry statistics and glancing at the timing screen before concluding that everything was running as it should, albeit a little bit hot from the driver's arrogance. suguru whispers something in your ear and you dutifully relay it to the idiot behind the wheel. "you can lay off a bit on the straightaways; you have enough wiggle room to give the car a breather."

"but what if i don't wanna?" you breathe deeply through your nose, clenching and unclenching your fists in suppressed irritation. the pit crew keeps laughing behind you and you give them a look that says can you believe this guy? "pssht, houston, do you copy? what's with the radio silence?"

a risky but flawless turn by gojo satoru, who's been in the lead since the start of the race!

"watch your wheels, satoru. keep pulling turns like that and you'll have to come get 'em changed. even you can't escape balding," you mutter with a smirk on your lips and you can imagine his indignant expression. "as much as i wish it'd come faster so you look less pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" fuck. his shit-eating grin is evident in his tone.

"yeah, pretty stupid," you retort, face burning and glancing at suguru for help. he merely smiles in amusement, returning to whatever the job of lead mechanic requires. "finish the race and get back here so i can strangle you."

"shoko's gonna have a field day dealing with that one, boss."

"says the pr nightmare that got banned from pre-race interviews," you scoff and he slams his foot on the accelerator in response. "hey, hey, easy there; don't be breaking my car."

"i'll buy you a new one," he mutters, crossing the finish line like he'd done it in his sleep. the crew and his managers let out a collective sigh of relief before cheering like they'd won the lottery. you, however, are transfixed on the voice on the way to pull into the pit. "and whatever else you want for dealing with my bullshit all the time."

"look at you being all self-aware," you tease, "this is new and i'm not sure if i like it."

"i can go back to being an asshole, if you want," he suggests and your attention flicks to the vehicle pulling in and immediately being swarmed by reporters, cameras, and the crew. you set down your headphones at the same time he pulls off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog that just took a bath. despite the crowd of microphones being shoved in front of him and the champagne being popped over his head, the only priority in his mind is you. "hi, pretty," he whispers in your ear when he finally takes you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "thanks for helping me win."

"i feel like i was a suggestion box whose papers were being incinerated," you argue lightheartedly. he shoots a look of warning to a reporter getting a little too close to you to be considered friendly and the man recoils in fear. "but i guess you did race pretty well."

"couldn't have done it without you," he murmurs lovingly.

"and you better not forget it."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[sturn-saturn]

pairing- chris x fem!reader

previous

texts with chris

the date

you finish putting on your outfit, an LBD, every girl should have an LBD, a Little Black Dress. a black spaghetti strap dress that stops at your thighs with a slick back bun and small gold hoop earrings with your black purse.

*ding!* you hear your phone.

you grab your phone to see chris letting you know he was outside waiting for you.

you hop in front of the mirror for one last look to make sure you look okay.

"perfect" you said rubbing your lip combo together.

you make your way out to door to see chris waiting in the car. suddenly nerves start rushing in making your heart beat 100mph.

from a young age your parents always told you to stay away from boys because they might take advantage of you and your parents were just strict over all when it came to the topic. with the restrictions, you felt afraid to talk to boys, get to know them, be friends with them. it caused you to have no idea how to even communicate with them which is why you've rejected every boy that's ever liked you, if you got to the point of a talking stage you would self sabotage and push them away because of your parents words repeating in your head from when you were growing up, "dont talk to boys."

you make your way to chris's car and hop into the passenger seat.

"hey, it's so nice to finally meet you!" chris said reaching for a hug. "i can't believe nick's been friends with you for months and we're just now meeting."

"he smells so good." you thought to myself as you hug him back.

"it's nice to meet you too and i know! but there's a first for everything." you smiled looking over at him.

"you ready?"

"yup!" you say.

he starts the car and you make your way to the restaurant.

you can't help but look at the way his hands grip the steering wheel. his big hands, veiny, soft.

"no. no, no, no, no, no, we are not crushing, this is just a casual date, nothing more, nothing less" you keep repeating to yourself mentally.

you both finally make it to the restaurant after 20 minutes of small talk, keeping the good stuff for the dinner table.

chris runs to your side as you gather your things and opens the door for you.

"well, nick never mentioned you were such a gentleman." you giggled.

"don't worry sweetheart you'll be learning a lot about me tonight." he winked.

your heart dropped at the sudden pet name, but in a good way, you liked it, but still you were nervous for what this might or might not turn into.

"welcome, do you have a reservation?" the host says near the front door.

"yes, sturniolo for two." chris smiles at you.

the waitress then leads you both to your table and hands up menus and thank her.

"where'd you find this place?" you ask curiously.

"when my brothers and i were like 10, our parents took us here for a family dinner and i haven't stopped thinking about their food since. when me matt and nick finally moved here we made it to goal to have a dinner together once a month for the memories."

"wait chris that's actually so sweet. also its beautiful in here."

"not as beautiful as you look." he says confidently.

"oh stop it." you looked away to hide the blush on your face.

"no seriously. you're very pretty."

"awhh thanks chris, you look great by the way."

"thank you, thank you." he smiles. "also don't hesitate to get anything, i'll pay."

"what, no i was gonna pay."

"no you're not." he argues looking up from the menu.

"we can split then."

"still no. i'm more than happy to pay for dinner, don't worry about it. matter of fact, nick is the one that set us up he should be paying."

you both laughed at the last sentence. you feel very comfortable right now which is rare. due to the fact that you've never been on a date and don't really know how to talk to boys, you feel very comfortable.

about 25 minutes go by and your food arrives.

"oh this looks amazing." you whisper.

"wait until you take a bite of the chicken parm, it's really good."

"wait but i didn't order any." you say confused.

"you can have some of mine."

as you both enjoyed your meal, some of the serious questions started to be asked.

"so where did you grow up, what brought you to LA?" he asks.

"i grew up in near eastern jersey near the beach actually. and i came here cause my mom is a sports marketing manager for the LA sparks so we moved here since it would be easier obvi."

"no way that's actually so fucking sick!" he exclaimed due to the fact that your mom helps promote the women's basketball team. "so an east coaster huh. do you miss jersey at all?"

"oh yeah 100%. i could live anywhere in the world but my heart will always be on the east coast."

"yeah i totally feel that. boston will always have my heart. i'm grateful my brothers and i get to go back and forth from here to boston to see our parents."

"i love that."

"alright, let's get down to the good stuff. when was the last time you went on a date?"

do i tell him i'm a loser and a prude now? or later?

"i...-u-uh... so this is actually my first date...ever." you say slightly embarrassed.

"oh no way me too. truthfully, i've been through talking staged and i have some commitment issues but i'm absolutely working on that so it's stopped me from just getting close to girls on a romantic level you know?"

"yeah i completely get that. honestly growing up my parents never let me talk to boys cause they're a bit strict so i've always been scared to hang out with them and like actually get to know them." you ramble on.

"well i'm glad i get the chance to take you out on a date."

"you're cute you know that?"

"ehh yeah i've gotten that before." he smirks as he takes a sip of his drink.

the more you talked to chris the more comfortable you felt. you didn't know if it was because you're best friends with nicks and he's a bit similar to his brother, or he's genuinely a sweet person who understands me and doesn't make me feel judged for being a 20 year old with no past experiences with relationships or dates.

you both finish up you meal and leave a tip for the waitress.

"i'll get the next one." you tell him as you both stand up getting ready to head back to his car.

'oh, so theres a next date?" he says cockily.

"hmm maybe."

on the ride how you both take about your favorite memories growing up and share genuine laughs with one another.

"alright i guess this is me." you say grabbing the door handle.

"wait." chris says gently grabbing your other hand, stopping you. you whip your head to face him. "i just wanted to tell you i had a great time tonight and i would really like to take you out again if you'd let me."

"chris that means a lot. and i would love to go out with you again. thanks for tonight." you smiling giving him a hug.

you finally make it into your apartment and kick off your shoes and throw your hand bag on your bed as you flop back hitting the soft surface.

you take a moment to breathe before you let out a squeal replaying every moment that happened tonight before you realize...

"holy fuck i'm falling for chris sturniolo."

tags:

@phoenix062 @ambermeh @klaus223492 @zariyam @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolofan4lifee @st9niolos

[shoutydwarf]

Veilguard ending spoilers

It's so hard for me to talk about how I feel about Solas because on one hand, there's great potential in his arc, but on the other, bioware has completely butchered that in such a profound way that I don't care to look past the hiccups to enjoy him.

First, he's race locked. This really doesn't help to contest the idea that he's a supremacist. If it was truly a time crunch issue where they added it so late they couldn't add the other races, but knew at the time what Solas was and what he meant to the plot - why, on gods green fucking earth, was it included at all? Because they spend the whole next game trying really hard to convince you he's not just an ages old racist stuck in his ways, only to not just have race locked him but to hide his most egregious act, of which he committed against a certain race he's known to be racist towards.

You'll be hard pressed to catch a certain type of solavellan, which encompasses the majority of them, even saying the word titan. The part that baffles me is you'll also be hard pressed to hear SOLAS HIMSELF saying it in game. If I'm recalling correctly, I only heard him say it one singular time outside of the mural memories. At the very end of the game.

There is zero acknowledgement on his part of what he did, at least not in any meaningful way. The orb that the evanuris made their foci out of that Solas says is an elven artifact? Titan heart. The dagger he made? Titan blood. The empire of Arlathan? Founded on the blood and genocide of titans. And I mean that in the most literal sense that I can. All of their godly powers that they used to create their empire was pulled from the well of titan souls they locked within the Golden City.

It's fucking poetic at this point. They silenced the titans so good and well that it seems not even Solas remembers what his glorious kingdom of old cost. It's even funnier if you stand in front of him as a Cadash or a dwarf!Rook.

This man they're trying SO HARD to beat into you around every corner that he's so so sad, he's so so full of regret and sorrow, he's so depressed and anguished over his deeds, not once acknowledges in a way that matters that what he and the evanuris did to the titans was wrong. And if he doesn't feel remorse over that in any way that's loud enough for him to talk about it as he does the veil, how the fuck am I supposed to believe he's sorry for all the other things?

Weekes has admitted to literally, somehow, casually forgetting dwarves don't dream when they were writing the scene of the Haven dream with Solas and the Inquisitor. Add this to how many lines dwarf!rook has of comparing things to dreams, casting necromancy spells etc and it becomes pretty clear that they never intended to afford this genocided race lore reveal the gravity it needed. They just needed it as a minor plot device in a greater elven narrative that completely, utterly, 100% unravels the message they're desperate to send with Solas. They really said to solavellans don't worry, kittens, he committed a really heinous, unforgivable act that he's not taking any strides to repair but we're not going to have him talk about it at all so you can continue ignoring it and scrolling tiktok during Harding's questline. And yall said okay ❤️ yay ❤️.

And no, you can't argue that his goal was always to tear down the Veil to restore immortality/magic to the elves AND wake up the titans. Because those are two separate things, and one of those things he never once said he was doing. He doesn't need the titans awake to take down the Veil and restore Arlathan. In fact, he very much needs them to stay tranquil, otherwise he'd finally get the ass whooping he fucking deserves when my dwarves not only attack his unguarded kneecaps with hammers but start chucking rocks at him and booing loudly.

This is why he's irredeemable for me. This is why I wanted an ending where I can kill him, not because I hate him as a concept or even as a character, but because his writing is such a fucking joke. And putting him into a sock and banging him against the counter is the only valid response to such a cosmic fumble because it's the only option that matches its freak in being so ridiculous. It's bad writing, it's weak, cheap, lazy, and directly crumbles the entire foundation.

While the ending of having him spend eternity soothing the dreams of the titans is excellent in form, because although it doesn't show him taking accountability it does show him taking steps to repair the damage he did to them, I don't ever get to establish, as a dwarf Rook or even just as a player, that THAT is why I want him to do this. Nobody says, "Make this right by earning the forgiveness of your first victim." Instead, for Solas, it's like, "well, since I have to go there anyway, I might as well. I guess. Whatever."

All this while they're in that AMA saying shit like "two groups are more affected than any other by the evanuris - the elves and (wait for it) Tevinter."

A fucking joke, I tell you.

[agirlwithglam]

TEENAGE SUMMER (12-16yo)

so summer has finally arrived and school has ended. and ofc, we want that hot girl summer with the perfect body, mindset, habits, holidays, and a great time in general but what if we have sorta strict parents who are just.. parents. so here are some tips to have your dream summer and glow up but also make it family/ teenage friendly!

GLOW UP:

external glow up tips:

numero uno: WORKOUT. yes, ofc this is on here, what did u think? work.out. decide why u wanna workout first: healthy body? dream body? abs? being stronger? for happiness? for fun? then, you can find a workout on youtube / pinterest for the one you want. (also what i love doing is the workouts on pinterest where its related to a tv show- or just search up [movie/ show name] workout)

smell nice! perfume, scented shampoos/ body scrubs, etc.

SUNSCREEN. trust me, u DO want to put it on.

skincare! moisturiser, lip gloss/ lip balm, exfoliation, etc.

put cold spoons under your eyes in the morning to reduce puffiness.

u dont like something? fix it! i didn't like my teeth for a while, so i got braces. you can't fix it? stop worrying about it and just give it to god cus u got better things to do

MANIFESTING:

affirmations!! affirmations in the mirror, listening to them, repeating them, thinking them, they helped me SO much!

Believe you’re hot. As simple as that.

Visualisation. Imagine people giving you compliments and staring at you all day long

internal glow up tips:

confidence. duhhhh! heres a guide to self love& confidence

abundance mindset. everything works out in YOUR favour.

detachment. stop taking shite so seriously. honestly, if someones hating on you then pity them or laugh then move on. like ur too busy to spend even a second of your day to make someone feel bad about themselves or argue about something pointless.

keep learning! educate yourself, expand your knowledge and your mind.

HAPPINESS. the real glow up starts when you're genuinely happy with who you are and where you are. be a light, carefree, bubbly girl but also remember to set standards and boundaries. when you're just genuinely happy, life truly does start to get better.

hotness is a mindset.

other tips:

channel your little kid energy

take a bunch of photos! (at the end you'll basically have a pretty summer mood board)

don't be on your phone all the time. try to ✨socialise✨ your time on earth is limited don't waste it on crusty, unhot stuff. ur parents will thank you for this as well

romanticise it. (laugh. smile. wear nice clothes, talk to people, get lost in a daydream. appreciate the beauty in stuff. even if its just a sofa.)

be positive. quit complaining. be happy and focus on what you have. spread love and happiness! you're privileged and you are a privilege. act like ittt!

stay present minded. live here, now.

listen to groovy, aesthetic-themes music. to get u into the moooddd!

become a better person. a better daughter/ son, sibling, friend, person in general.

GET OUTSIDEEEE!!!! TOUCH SOME GRASS. its sunny, its summer, why tf r u staying indoors????

sleep girl. sleep. just because you don't have to wake up early tomorrow, does not mean you can stay up till 2am watching netflix. sleep makes your skin glow, makes you look prettier, makes you happier and 10000 more benefits. so sleep.

channel your creativity! (paint, draw, sketch, write, poetry, music, etc.)

play. you're still young!! have fun and do silly and embarrassing things while you still can!!!!!!!

create a summer mood board!

channel a certain era- barbie summer, blair waldorf summer, hot girl summer, etc.

bucket list ideas:

go to a park

redecorate your room

spa day (w friends)

girl slumber parties! (face masks, girlie things, movies)

volunteer somewhere

beach day!

write letters and kiss them (like those pretty pinterest summer!)

go biking (i love doing it in the mornings)

bake! (cakeeee)

get back into some old hobbies (childhood nostalgia)

gardening. care for a plant (then talk to it when you feel sad ur won't be insane i promise)

look at the sunrise / sunset

read dude. just read and romanticise it with a pretty comfy space

make a goal. then work on it so hard that you get it!

learn something new (for me i rly wanna learn crochetting)

scrap booking

do a workout with friends

video diary!! (film everythinggg)

make jewellery (u can sell them after if u want. also there are tons of jewellery making kits on amazon or toys r'us!)

donate / sell stuff (like books and toys)

flower press (with printer tho)

dance with your friends

wear jewellery!! summer necklaces, bracelets, etc!

go for walks (w friends)

get your nails done. (you don't have to go out to get them done. you can do it yourself. i dont have nail polish but my friend does so we love putting it on together)

make some new friends! (join clubs, visit new places, talk to people, join classes,)

go to the beach

"what makes life so beautiful is the fact that it ends"

[emdoesstufff]

What I think it would be like if Wanda also recast the other Avengers like she did with Pietro, A.K.A. the Avengers if they were in a sitcom.

Clint Barton

He's a little bit like and older brother figure for Wanda whenever the show can't handle Pietro's chaos

He shows up on the show whenever something needs fixed or if Wanda needs some brotherly advice

His wife and three kids are off screen except whenever Lila shows up to babysit Billy and Tommy

A lot of his humor has to do with him turning off his hearing and or making deaf jokes

Him and Pietro are always getting into fights and Wanda steps in and they have brother-sister heart to hearts

Tony Stark

He's the "wacky inventor" character of the friend group

He shows up every once in a while with some new invention or device

People always say, "He's the richest guy on the block"

He brings his fifteen year old mentee/son everywhere with him

He has few deep moments with Wanda, but is close friends with Vision

Vision works at Stark Industries, a big important company that is unclear of exactly what they do

Steve Rogers

He's the voice of reason for all of the other characters whenever anything goes wrong, the "golden boy" character

It's known that the twins love to visit him, "Can we got to Uncle Steve's house?" "Yeah, he's got the best snacks"

He's usually seen with Tony, they argue a lot but are clearly good friends, he's also often found with Sam and Bucky

He has an off screen wife that he mentions sometimes, "Peggy and me are going into town, need anything?"

He has the most heart to hearts with Wanda, always with the advice she needs in the moment

Natasha Romanoff

She's there to be a girl friend to Wanda, "Us ladies have to stick together" or "Can you believe what these have us put up with"

Is always the one to call anyone out, she's the smart, sassy friend character

Often shows up with Clint or Steve, she's usually the one to talk about Bruce since he's not there a lot

Part of her character is how she moved to Westview to get away from her family and she always mentions things about them, "You'll never believe what my little sister did this time", "Yeah, my mom and dad really miss me since I moved"

Is always the one to show up when Wanda needs someone to last minute watch her kids

Her and Wanda have a lot of deep talks about things they can't talk about with any of the guys

Bruce Banner

His character doesn't show up that much and Wanda doesn't really know him that well, he's more friends with Vision and her other friends

He shows up in Stark Industries scenes with Tony and Vision, also working at the mysterious company

He's the more reserved, shy, and quiet character, but his humorous moments involve him getting loud/angry and "losing control" as they joke about it

He's got a pretty obvious crush on Nat, but it's the "everyone knows except her" trope

Sam Wilson

He's the comedic relief character of the show, always jumping in with a funny quip or action

He's a store owner and Wanda goes there a lot for scenes, it's also just one of the go to places, "I'm going to Sam's to get stuff for dinner"

It's known that him and Bucky are a duo and they always show up in scenes together, Bucky is always in his store

The two are always in sync and are known for their big and loud entrances, Wanda tells her kids to not do anything Sam and Bucky do

He gives advice to Wanda a lot, usually not realizing he's giving her advice though

Bucky Barnes

He's the quieter comic relief character, usually bouncing off of Sam

In the rare scenes he's alone, he's a lot quieter and kinder to his friends

It's never said where he lives or if he lives with anyone, whenever someone asks where he's going, it's always "You should know that I'm probably always with Sam or in his store at least. We are best friends after all."

It's known that him and Steve were childhood friends and grew up together, "My mom was basically yours too Steve"

In his more alone and quiet moments, he's always being kind and gentle with Wanda, but outside of that he's pretty loud

Peter Parker

He's the younger character that everyone feels protective of, Tony's son/mentee, it's never explicitly stated

He's also the boy genius character, spitting out random facts or information whenever it's helpful

He's almost always with Tony and rarely ever on his own

Wanda doesn't know him that well, but she always stops and talks to him or helps him

He's also a really clumsy character, his humorous moments are usually from the accidents he causes

Thor

He isn't around very often, only appearing every once in a while, he's the "here for a good time, not a long time" character

He's a little bit of a partier that we don't really know anything about, it's never specified if he lives in town or not

He's very loud and usually shows up just to make the audience laugh

He talks with Wanda at least once in every episode he appears in and the talks are usually quick and funny, occasionally being sentimental or kind towards each other

If someone wants to write this feel free, I don't think I'll have the time or energy.

Fan Casts-

Clint-Boyd Holbrook

Tony-Charlie Rowe

Steve-Louis Hofmann

Natasha-Hannah Dodd

Bruce-(Genuinely no idea, he showed up on my Pinterest) Edit: I figured out that his name is Chay Suede

Sam-Malwyn Burkhalter

Bucky-Alfie Templeman

Peter-Parkergetajob

Thor-Luke Eisner