#like i said theres so much more on here that would be too long

[skunkes]

i loooove when ocs unrealized development makes them feel like real people like no i dont know whether talon is genuinely attracted to women after years of both clinging to them for safety and years of putting them onto that untouchable idealized Perfect Protector Pedestal that must remain untainted by any bad experiences, so he doesn't even try to Be With any. He doesn't know either

[ociels]

his brother died and one of his first thoughts were that it should’ve been him instead because now people are going to be disappointed…

[xxplastic-cubexx]

BIRTHDAY HAUL courtesy of a very lovely friend of mine 🥺

bonus goofy pics of a bday snack i had earlier with my favorite menace …..

[faaun]

Met a bunch of people on the stone steps all going through various stages of grief over various things all immensely happy

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[drchucktingle]

BIG thing i get teased about over the years (in playful ways, it is fine buckaroos, but a light tease none the less) is the DIRECTNESS of my titles. many who stumble upon my books will immediately comment 'the title is so long it just says what happens'. here are some of my thoughts on that...

as with a lot of things in the tingleverse, my unusual artistic choices end up being a sort of TROJAN HORSE, called unserious and mocked by many, but hopefully over the years revealing something to buckaroos who are not tied to the separation of ‘low brow’ or ‘high brow’ art

i feel understood by most, but for some who JUST NOW encounter the tingleverse there is an automatic apprehension, from outright to subliminal. things like scoffing ’im not going to try and find meaning in a chuck tingle book’ (real quote) or 'skeptical of the horror, ive seen his OTHER books'

i have written a LOT about how much of this, whether buds know it or not, is not just about the dinosaurs and the living objects. it is about a culture that is built to see queerness and neurodivergence and (drumroll) SEXUALITY as fundamentally unworthy of ‘real’ artistic merit. this trot runs deep

theres SOMETHING ELSE i dont talk on much however, which is directness of my writing style, both in titles and on page. why i do it is this: AS AN ARTIST it is never my intention to impress you. my books are not the 'ME show' theyre the 'US show’ so i simply want my sentences to express what happens

i wont dance circles around you, leading you through the story saying LOOK AT ME LOOK HOW GOOD I AM IM SO COOL. i want to walk BESIDE you. of course, writing to impress is also great and valid art too, just not MY preference. this is ARTISTIC choice, but i want to talk for a moment on politics of it

i tend to see buckaroos holding a sort of STRICT interpretation of what makes ‘good’ art. it is a training that has been pounded into their heads declaring ‘real art cannot just come out and say what it means.' a good example would be if someone was being critical by just saying 'its heavy handed'

the thing is, there is a huge difference between saying ‘it was blunt.’ and ‘it was TOO BLUNT for what it was trying to accomplish.’ TIME AND TIME AGAIN however, you will see folks simply deciding ‘this art just said what it meant on the surface’ and leaving it there, as if that is INHERENTLY WRONG.

and the question i am forced to ask myself is ‘WHY is this wrong?’ in the vast, infinite pantheon of WHAT ART CAN BE why are we so obsessed with hiding ourselves? obscuring our thoughts? removing our politics? there is certainly a time for subtly, but it seems there is NEVER a time for being blunt

some say this is because arts more DIFFICULT to craft when it is subliminal, but folks do not REACT that way. art that is both direct AND subliminal and layered will STILL get torn down for leaving things on the surface, even when technically speaking it is probably most impressive to juggle both

there is plenty for you to research on this regarding the CIA secretly funding abstract expressionist art during the cold war. it is still HOTLY DEBATED, but i will mention it here for anyone reading my thread who is interested in a deep dive. HERE, however, i will talk about it on a personal level

i think that culturally we are CONSTANTLY told to not take up space, especially in marginalized groups. there is decades and decades of programming telling us ‘you can express yourself, but in a CIVILIZED WAY, not too loud, not too direct. CERTAINLY not too political.' i flatly reject this

of all the places to do what you want and say what you want to say, ART IS THE PERFECT ARENA. your writing, your songs, your music can absolutely be as subtle as you want, but especially during times like this, dont let anyone tell you that youre too dang loud. lets trot buckaroos.

and since i spent all morning writing this is am going to leave a link for my new book LUCK DAY, which is LOUD AS HECK. now is a time to make art, and it is also a time to support the artists you love. give a preorder if you can. LOVE IS REAL

[burningdevotion]

best way to warm up

Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: after spending the day out in the cold, Joel wants nothing more than to get back home to his girl. once he has you in his arms, you both agree to retire back to bed, so you can replace the shivers of cold with shivers of pleasure

a/n: this was my first time writing a proper fic for him and I ended up really enjoying it! theres just something about old man!Jackson!Joel that’s so... yeah. this is filth with a bit of plot <3 - (ca. 6k words)

warnings: big age gap (reader in her 20s, Joel close to 60), oral and fingering (r!receiving), brief hand and blowjob, unprotected p in v, praise, multiple orgasms, coming inside, cum eating, pet names, one singular use of "daddy", bf!Joel who goes hard in a loving way

Joel would never get used to the snow.

it didn’t matter how long he’d already lived in Jackson, it went the same way every year, him taking the cold as a personal attack on his summer-loving soul, cursing under his breath whenever his teeth chattered and the tip of his nose and ears turned red from the biting winds.

that particular day it was no different. a blizzard had swept through town a few days before and had left some damage on a few houses, which of course made people turn to your lover when they were looking for someone to help them fix it all up.

Joel was the resident handy man, along with a few other guys, and he wasn´t too happy about it, especially not once he got older and had a pretty girl waiting at home who he´d rather give all his energy to, since waking up sore from tending to you was pleasant, whereas waking up sore from work... not so much.

you had to push him out of the door that morning while he regretted being that skilled at home renovations, to which you just said “come on, show them how strong you still are compared to all the men here who are half your age” which gave him just the right amount of pride and spite to go out there and be a dutiful neighbor while flexing his skills in front of guys who´d tried their luck with you before, smug whenever they struggled to lift as much as he did, thinking about the countless times he´d used his strength for your pleasure, shooting daggers at them whenever they dared to ask him about you.

while he was out being helpful, you spent your day gathering wood for your fireplace and stoked the flames until they were intense enough to make the house feel cozy again. you cooked a hearty soup and left it to simmer on the stove, so you could share a nice dinner later on, taking your time with it, picking all the right herbs. just as you got done cleaning the kitchen, you heard the front door slam shut, followed by Joel kicking off his boots anf letting out a few foul words that made you smile to yourself.

his grumpiness always amused you, his blatant inability to keep his grievances to himself, to put on a convincing poker face - which had gotten him in trouble more than once - because it held no threat of true aggression, Joel was not an angry man, at least not with you, never with you, not over his dead body - one touch, one word from you was always enough turn him into a man about as tender as they come.

you´d managed to soften his tired spirit like a rough stone that got smoothed down over time, just as tough as before, but less prickly, less irritable, more at peace, and he worshipped you for it, the patience that you´d shown him when he had felt so undeserving of it, after everything he´d done, all the pain he’d caused. you both gave each other the kind of solace you never dared to hope for, especially during the darkest nights of the year, savoring the evenings spent cocooned in a glow of love on the couch, clinging to each other while the outside world was covered in ice. 

he came into the kitchen looking all gruff and flushed and achingly handsome, snow melting in his graying hair and beard, dressed in those jeans that fit him just right and a white shirt with a flannel on top, an appreciative long glance from you over his figure that matched his as he spotted you and rushed over. “hey baby” you cooed, smiling at him, “hey there.” he said, still a bit irritated by the whole ordeal outside, but glad to be home at last. “you´re freezing hm?” you asked and beckoned him closer, so he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you while uttering “like a damn icicle, darling” shivering a bit as he buried his face in your neck and breathed in your familiar scent, his heartbeat slowing immediately, a tight grip on you as he soaked up your heat.

you mirrored his gesture and held him close, rested your head against his shoulder, caressed him up and down his back which made him hum in approval. “poor thing, gotta get you warmed up. what do you need? some coffee, a bath? both maybe?”.

“you” he murmured against your skin, eliciting goosebumps. “right now, all I need is you”, the words barely audible as he started trailing feathery light kisses up your neck, your pulse point, your jaw, your cheek, making you sigh and shut your eyes, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to hold onto something, a smile as he took the sign to continue and gave the sensitive spot below your ear little licks and kisses, lavishing you with affection.

you let out a faint moan as he did this, your arousal stirred not just by his lips but the way he smelled, so fresh and crisp from the ice-cold air, musky and sweet from his own natural scent, leathery and woody from his jacket and the fire smoke he´d been around, a mix that was so deeply addictive to you.

without warning, he gripped your sides and lifted you onto the countertop, so you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, as close as possible, hands on his neck, increasingly turned on, his own hands on your shoulders as he leaned in to whisper “thought of you the entire time I was out there, sweetheart…what I´d have done if I´d stayed in bed with you all mornin” his voice all low and husky as he said it, his breath tickling your ear, his thumbs kneading away the tension in your muscles.

“god..” was all you could respond, your voice all strained from the lust that was slowly spreading through you, pooling at your core, so he didn´t waste any time and leaned in, cupped your face and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, teasingly licking over your bottom lip before you opened your mouth and made him turn the kiss into something more perverse and charged, making out in a way that would´ve been highly inappropriate in public, his hips moving forward in a way that made you feel it: that he was already straining against his jeans. a strangled moan escaped you as his clothed groin pressed against yours, already wet and waiting for him.

in the middle of kissing you, he pushed his hands under your shirt and heard you gasp into his mouth as he cupped your tits, his large, cold palms right over the swell of your breasts, squeezing, feeling you up, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples to soothe them, circling motions that made you moan louder than you intended and lean back in a way that nearly made you knock a jar to the floor, which didn´t deter him, at all, still pressing against your sensitive area, groping you, as he used your position to his advantage and sucked on your exposed throat, heard those little whimpers that drove him wild every damn time.

eventually, you pulled back, out of breath, and sighed “want me to help you get hot all over, hm?”, staring into his eyes with a kind of desire that rivaled even the brightest fire while un-buttoning the top of his flannel, so he skipped the talking and only gave a gravely sound in response as he lifted you up, your legs already where he needed them, carrying you up the stairs, your arms wrapped around his neck, your lips ghosting over his cheek as he reveled in the feeling of being strong enough to carry you over the threshold bridal style, which gave him the brief fantasy of making you his wife, slipping a lacy gown off your frame, pulling garter belt down your leg with his teeth.

the moment he laid you down on the bed, he hurried with getting his shirt and undershirt off, his jeans too, unbuckling his belt in a way that made you want him even more. he needed, he craved the body-to body feel, and the vision of him right then was like a wolf who´d roamed through miles and miles of snow and finally found something to sink his teeth into: impatient, greedy, salivating at the thought.

you pulled your shirt off too as he was already crawling over to you and told you “good girl, now lift your hips for me”, so you obeyed and tossed your top to the floor and helped him shimmy down your jeans, which left you in nothing but thin cotton panties, which drove him wild when he saw the dampness at the center, a brief brush of his fingers over it that made you twitch before his eyes fell to your chest, which made him pounce on you.

within seconds he was palming your left tit as he put his mouth to the other, switching between sucking and licking motions that made you squirm and whimper under him, the tip of his tongue flicking over your nipple before he put it between his lips and suckled on you like he was trying to get milk, so eager, so hungry, so lost in your softness, his knee purposely pressed up between your thighs, creating friction at your core that left you soaked and desperate for more. with a wet popping sound he finally let go but didn´t give himself or you time to catch your breaths, instead pinning your arms to the side, gently but firmly, while placing his mouth between your tits, then your sternum, moving down all the way to your lower stomach while leaving a trail of wet kisses. once he reached the waistband of your panties he paused and left few love bites until he looked up to see you all undone from his impact already, confessing to you “god I can´t take it… you´re too beautiful baby… too soft and delicious… need you all over my mouth, right now”.

before you could say anything, he ripped down your panties and praised “hmm, yeah, nice and open for me” as you parted your legs wider for him so he could settle between them, his kissing from before continuing all the way up your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the tender skin here and there. Joel needed you to a point where he almost humped the mattress, his cock throbbing just from a bit of foreplay, the way it always did, matching the utter sensitivity on your part that made you sound like he was already fucking you, when he hadn´t even reached the apex of your thighs yet. 

before he could taste you, he reached up and played with your pussy a bit, rubbing your clit with his middle and ring finger in circles as he heard you whine so beautifully for him, your eyes cast down, propped up on your arms, so you could get a good look at the way he savored the feel and sight of your slick folds, your swollen clit, pussy-whipped already, rubbing you so softly that it almost felt more shameless and filthy than if he´d jerked you off with force.

when he felt you losing your composure even more and heard a sweet little “baby…” tumbling from your lips, urging him to get to it, he gave a light slap of his hand against your needy pussy that made you wince not from pain but the bolt of pleasure, a devilish smile shot in your direction before he finally wrapped his big arms around your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth, buried himself in you, groaned like an animal as your cunt enveloped his nose and mouth, drowned out all previous worries, left him feeling like he was the luckiest man on planet earth, never ever getting used to your velvety, salty juices that could sustain him through the harshest winter, bring him back to life each time he got a taste of you.

you fell back against the pillows and mewled as he started eating you out, lapped at your cunt in broad, self-indulgent strokes, diving between your folds like a man starved, your slick heat healing his previously frozen up skin as he moved his face up and down to gather up every last drop, drenched in your fluids within no time, the way he needed and wanted it, all the time, sometimes spending entire evenings between your legs like that.

Joel made out with your pussy while you moaned and rocked your hips up to chase his mouth, whining to him about how good it felt, so he pushed you further and slipped a finger into you, no resistance, your cunt greedily taking it in, pleasure noises flowing from between his glistening lips as he pulled back to watch it, “yes, yes.. more” you cried, so he quickly pushed in a second finer and curled them up just right to hit your sweet spot over and over, adding his tongue again once you sounded like you might finish soon, sucking on your clit hard enough to make you see stars as his big fingers pumped in and out of you, got you read for something bigger, your walls throbbing around his knuckles, your back arching up, as the first orgasm hit you like lightning and made you shake and cry out, fully drenching his fingers as you rode it out while he kept his lips firmly suctioned to your clit, his free arm holding you in place as he soaked up the feeling of having you come all over his tongue and hand. 

as you laid there all flushed and riled up, he put his fingers between his lips and licked your cum off while uttering “divine.. like honey…”, keeping eye-contact with you in a way that made you breathe even heavier than before. the sight of you splayed out for him like that, so gorgeous and dripping and clearly in need of more of his service, it made him adore you so fiercely and need you so badly that he frantically pulled down his boxers and tossed them to where your underwear was already crumpled on the floor, his hardness springing free in a way that made him take a sharp breath in and stroke himself as he came over to you and saw your eyes turn down to where he was touching himself, clearly turned on by how rock hard he was, pre-cum leaking out of his tip, his big strong thighs and hairy chest and broad shoulders only driving you even wilder in combination with that view, his stature looming over you in the most dizzying way. “been like this all afternoon…” he groaned  “just from thinkin of you”. 

before he could protest, you sat up, spat into your palm, and reached forward to replace his hand with yours, his head falling back as he felt your palm close around his length, rubbing up and down, slicking him up as an almost pained “ohhh hmppff fuck” escaped him while he gripped your arm for support, bucked up into your grip without thinking, groaned like an animal as you just smiled all sweet and and kept stroking him, savoring the feel of him in your hand like that, aroused and throbbing for you, whispering to him “need this cock in me, baby”.

“yeah? need it right now?” he moaned and felt you going a bit faster to really tease him, so he slipped his thumb into your mouth in retaliation, felt you suck on it, his eyes dark and half-lidded then as you jerked him off and licked all over his finger, until you let go of both at once and leaned back, nodding and saying “hmm yeah, need you deep inside me” emphasis on the “deep”, your eyes never leaving his as you spread your thighs wide enough for him to see your cunt spread open and pulsating for him, inviting him in, so he lunged forward and whispered “oh youre really asking for it now, darlin…” and pushed you back onto the pillows.

you let out a squeal as Joel roughly put you into the position he needed you in, hovering over you, and went on to slide his tip over your wetness, teasing, slapping his cock onto your cunt a few times to watch you turn weak and helpless again, until he guided himself to your entrance and let go of his cock, put his hands by the sides of your face, stared down into your eyes and then kissed your neck right as he pushed himself into you, slowly for the first inches, and then all the way, one swift push, balls deep, no holding back anymore, your pussy aching in relief the moment he bottomed out and had you nice and full again. 

your heat and wetness overwhelmed him as he felt it all, a broken-up “Christ..” as he let you adjust to his size and held your gaze, both of you staring into each other´s soul´s with parted lips, hitched breaths, that delicious moment whenever he first entered you, his palm reaching up to caress you, soothe you, as you matched his low, rumbling sounds with a higher-pitched moan, your pussy stretching around his girth in just the right way, his hardness buried deep inside of you, the ache at your core suddenly pleasurable instead of maddening, a burning need to have him deepen that ache until you couldn´t take anymore, which he sensed, so he moved his hands to grip yours and pin them against the mattress as he slowly started moving in you as the scruff of his beard tickled your neck just right, his moans and kisses covering the skin right above your shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his waist and trapped him in the best way.

you ran your nails down his spine and felt him give you the most dizzying slow, yet hard, deep strokes, so you could feel every single thrust in its entirety, a whimper with each one, throbbing around him as you whined “yes…yes”, so he lifted his head a bit and breathed against your cheek “hmm yeah? like that, baby?”, a weak “hmm” and nod from you in response as you felt him go in and out of you, your pussy relaxed and soaking wet by then, both of you whispering sweet nothings to each other as he picked up the pace, unable to keep his desire contained any longer, his hands leaving yours then so he could brace himself better as he fucked you the way he wanted, intense, hard, and yet so loving, radiating such adoration with each push of his hips, his groans turning louder and more pornographic by the second, a mix of “ohh” and “ughh” sounds rising out of his depths as he got lost in you, the way you looked right then, all flushed and and pretty in your lust-induced haze, head pushed back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut from that deep pleasure that was starting to possess every little inch of your body, his strokes steady and skilled, his lips suddenly on yours so he could drink up all of your moans and whimpers, kissing you softly as he fucked you intensely, a contrast that drove you wild as you gripped his big arms and held on. 

you loved that he was big but not to a point where it hurt, his cock just girthy enough for you to have to adjust to it a bit at first every time, a mild kind of pain that was more thrilling than punishing, a perfect size and feel for you, the flesh of his length still slightly soft even when he was hard, ideal to a point where you became obsessed with it, sometimes having him fuck you on the couch in the middle of the day, just to feel him for a few minutes, or riding him on a chair in the kitchen, or if things got really heated making him take you inside other people´s bathrooms, one time even fully out in public, at night, too eager for him to fuck you to wait til you were home. Joel loved it. every time. how eager you were for him, the delicious build-up to it, the way you always made him feel like the most virile, desirable man who ever lived just by batting your eyelashes at him and nudging his leg to say “come here, take me, please.”

right then it was no different as he was fucking you into the mattress with determination until he lifted himself up onto his knees and quickly pushed your leg up into an angle that allowed him to really rail the fuck out of you, your back arching up as went as deep as possible then, fast and hard without ever neglecting your comfort, your need, your level of arousal, keeping a close eye on your body, the little tells that gave away how good it felt for you as he kept going and going, praising you, watching you twist your head to the side and bite your lip, groaning “goddd this pussys gonna ruin me one day… feel too fuckin good around me, baby...” and right then he hit the exact right spot, so you whimpered pathetically and stared up at him while moaning  “fuck right there, yes” your insides twisted in pleasure, threatening to burst within the next few minutes.

“yeah? right here? this the spot, sugar?” he asked, not actually needing an answer, only saying it to turn you on even more as he kept the exact pace he was going at and hit you deep inside, over and over, your muscles coiled tight, lewd wet sounds echoing through the room, his body looking all godly and manly like that, taking you as if he wasn´t pushing sixty at all, an ease and power to his movements that made you lose your mind completely.

just as you were bracing yourself for your impending climax, Joel reached down and added his thumb to the mix and oh. you were done for. the way he circled your clit right then.. the way he rubbed over your sensitive bundle of nerves.. it made you choke up for a second. “ohhh fuck baby, oh” you cried out, begging for mercy as he kept fucking and touching you just the right way, admiring the sight of you all sexy and primal in that state of pre-release, drunk on the power to please you that way.

“there you go.. look at you.. gorgeous girl..” he cooed as you begged “don´t stop, just like that, fuck”, so he assured you “shhh, you´re doin so well, takin me so damn well, baby” sweating by then, his scent only messing with you even more, that animalistic, intimate smell of his that always ruined you, Joel rutting into you with the need to see you lose yourself, which you were about to, your pussy leaking all over his cock as you moaned “I´m coming, I´m-” your words silenced by the orgasm that started to hit you, your whole body tensed up, your voice drowned out, right at the peak then, so he leaned forward during his relentless fucking and groaned “I´ve got you, I´ve got you baby girl, just let go for me”, and with that you did, unclenching every muscle at once, suddenly flooded by pleasure, crying out and shaking as he held you in place by your hips, caressed your sides, and slowed down bit by bit, let you ride it out, while uttering “hmm, good girl, such a good girl…”.

as you laid there catching your breath and twitching, he slowly moved his cock out and stroked it in a way that kept him riled up enough to keep going without coming too fast. he wanted to hold out, desperately, he needed more of you, and the second you had enough strength again, you moved your trembling body over to him, kneeled on the bed, and leaned down to lick his tip for him, nudging his hand away and replacing it with your own as you drooled all over his length and licked up the side of the shaft back up to the top, circled his tip, tasted yourself on him, and finally took him into your mouth, not all the way, but enough to make him moan “oh.. youre killin me” while he caressed your hair and watching in awe as you greedily sucked him off. he couldnt help but grunt and buck up a bit, trying his best not to choke or gag you, but so damn sensitive to your pretty mouth wrapped around him like that, a pained “goddammit” leaving him as you sucked his dick until he couldn´t take any more. before he could cum in your mouth, he peeled you off and grabbed you to get you where he wanted you, panting, desperate, hard as a rock.

Joel gave your leg a loving squeeze and told you “come here baby, come lay on your side for me, nice and comfortable, right here” maneuvering you into the position he was aiming for as he laid down behind you and watched you lift your own leg up, knowing what he wanted to do to you. “that´s it, perfect” he whispered as his arm slipped under your side and wrapped around your front, over your tits, to hold you flush against his chest, so strong and warm and comforting as he did it, his face right by your neck, a soft kiss as he settled in his big spoon position and groaned from the desire to dive back into your heat already. 

you needed it too, badly, your pussy twitching around the emptiness, so you moved your free hand down to guide his cock back into yourself, both him and you watching your lower half as he slipped right back in, both of you so sensitive and raw by then that he shuddered as you swallowed him up again while you let out a faint “ohh… oh” and pressed yourself back up against him to feel his entire body pressed against yours, your eyes shut as he kept his arm wrapped around your front and kissed your shoulder, your neck, groaned and bit down lightly as he picked up a pace and started fucking you from the side, possessive and protective at the same time the way he thrust himself into you with increasing passion while holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, which to him, you were, always and forever.

the sensation of being filled over and over from that lazy angle did something to you, made you surrender and lay in his arms all docile and sweet, which got him good: the way you trusted him, moaned for him, let him take you like that, so he fucked you a bit faster and rougher while peppering gentle kisses over the slope of your shoulder, slapping sounds filling the room as he kept going, his cock nice and deep inside you, so good that you were overcome by love and twisted your head back a bit to chase his lips and kiss him, your tongue in his mouth as you struggled to kiss him properly but tried your best amidst the frenzied fucking, his heart beating faster not just from the way you felt on him but the adoration he saw mirrored in your eyes as you briefly looked at him, all dazed and fucked out, so perfect, so angelic for him, his girl, all his, another deep, sloppy kiss from him as you whimpered to him about how good his cock felt, his own affection for you ruining him then as he whispered “this pussy was made to be worshipped by me, this body, all of it” which got you good, clenching around him so hard that he groaned “oh god hmmm” and tightened his grip on you, slamming into you as you submitted to it and got fucked into a blissful oblivion while he was right behind you, steading you, warming you, the neighbors down the street probably well aware of what was going on by then, your cries too loud to be drowned out by wooden walls, which made you feel even more aroused: that smug feeling of spending the afternoon getting your brains fucked out instead of doing anything to prove how dutiful you were, sinfully self-induldent in the best way. 

the softness of the cuddle-fucking somehow got you wet to a degree that was so intense that each thrust made a squelching sound, filthy and nasty and just how he loved it, his finger back on your clit as he briefly slowed down and moaned “fuckkk gonna make me cum baby” less intense strokes then, a brief pause to draw the sex out longer, he refused to cum, needed a few more minutes, so you gave in and savored the sensual, romantic feel of having his cock slide in and out your mess without much force, which held its own intense pleasure, an ease to it that turned you on, made you push your ass back against him and whine “ohhh… oh yes please” so he kept going like that for a while as you made out in a way you couldn´t before, catching your breaths a bit until the went faster again and braced himself for his orgasm, but before he could finish like that, you had the urge to change positions once more to really get fucked hard for your next orgasm.

you mumbled “baby I need-” and trailed off as you freed yourself from his grip and pushed him onto his back to get up and straddle him, your cunt slipping over his thigh for a moment, a grinding motion as he held his length and nodded “yeah darlin, take just what you need, drench my lap, lemme see”, a few more desperate rocking motions of your hips against the muscle of his leg, leaving a glistening trail of your cum once you got up and aligned yourself with him and sat down on it, sighing in relief once you felt him all the way in again and started riding him. you were too weak to really bounce on it, to give him the whole fantasy, but frantic and needy enough to give him a perfect view of your tits bouncing as you slid up and down his cock and saw him lean back against the heaboard, watching in awe, his hands on your sides as he supported and guided you, eager to tease another high out of you before his own would leave him wrecked for good, marveling at you on top of him looking like a goddess.

after a moment, he ordered “come down here” and made you lay chest to chest, wrapped both of his strong arms around your back, and held onto you tightly as he said “just relax for me now baby, okay?”, so you braced yourself, aware of what he was gonna do, and muffled your cries against his shoulder as he slammed up into you from below, over and over and over, truly ruining you, giving you a final round of achingly deep, aggressive thrusts that left you helpless on him - you didn´t have to do a single thing but take it all and stop resisting the overwhelming feeling that was about to unravel you, body and soul. you held on for dear life as he moaned that he was getting close, so you begged “come in me, please baby, please”, so he groaned “yeah? want me to fill you up?”, which made you insist “yes daddy… please”.

the word slipped out. it wasn´t on purpose. and that was what killed him. the innocent, fully instinctual way you uttered it, the word "daddy" going right to his head and heart and groin all at once as he grunted “jesus baby.. gonna make you mine now, gonna fill you all the way up”, his movements stopping all at once as he kept himself all the way inside you after last thrust and released his cum, shaking and twitching as he felt himself leaking and heard you moan in relief as you came right at the same time from the heavenly warm sensation of having him claim you that way, a decent amount of his juices splurting out until he was empty and shuddered one last time before he went as slack as you were by then, his arms still around you, keeping you safe, always.

for a moment, you just laid there like that, inseparable, entwined, panting and sweating, lost in the haze of your shared orgasm, until you peeled yourself off and flopped down on your belly on the empty side of the bed.

Joel moved and told you “lift that pretty peach a bit for me, baby” so you smiled against the pillow and did as he said, arching your butt up a bit as you felt him press a few kisses against your backside before he leaned in and did something that almost made you black out during your intense afterglow: he lapped up his own cum where it was leaking out of you and gently ate you out from the back.

another man might’ve just gotten a towel but not him. Joel wanted to make sure that he was cleaning up the mess he´d made of you, while also using the excuse to spread your cheeks open and lick all the way from your puffy lips to right below your hole, teasing you, feeling you wiggle a bit in response. Joel was a tits man the same way he was an ass man, so he shamelessly ate you up and kissed the plump flesh as you laid there on your stomach, blissed out, enjoying your man´s lack of shame when it came to his desires - whenever he came on you or in you, it was an excuse for him to keep going for a little bit longer: if he came on your tits it was an excuse to suck on them again, if he came in your mouth it made him tongue kiss you again, if he came inside of you it was a way to make himself get a final taste of you. eventually, his primal energy left him and made him slump down next to you, your pussy nice and soothed by his soft tongue after all the fucking before.

you both laid there, spent, satisfied, quiet, his hand resting on your thigh, leaving you some space to calm down as he did the same, until you turned over and snuggled up to him, your head on his chest, his arm around your back again, a dazed smile on Joels face as you nuzzled up to him like that and asked “you all warm again now?”.

“hmm, you know just how to get me hot and bothered.. my pretty lil sunshine” he whispered and pulled your hand up to kiss each of your knuckles, adoration radiation from him in a way that almost made you shed a few tears when he briefly pressed your fingers against his cheek after that tender gesture, his eyes closed, a shuddering breath out that told you his level of comfort and happiness matched yours.

“needed this so bad...might´ve died without it, I swear” he mused and gazed down at you while he caressed you, traced your side, marveled at how silky smooth you were, drawing idle patterns right above your hip .“dont know how I survived the winters before you” he admitted, both to you and himself.

you turned your head to look up and smiled at him, “you wish you could keep me in here and just hibernate through the winter, don´t you, old man?”.

“excuse me, ma´am?” he asked, exaggerating his shock for effect, giving you a playful squeeze in response. “oh, I´ll show you old, you´re in for it next time, little lady, just you wait.”. 

“oh no, how will I manage?” you exclaimed, clearly not scared but very pleased by that threat, a barely suppressed smile on his face as you draped your leg over his and laid on him all boneless and smiley. 

it was a game you two liked to play: you making a remark about his advanced age, compared to yours, so he could willingly walk into that trap and prove himself to you, which always got you what you wanted, for example, one time when you made a comment about his knees being too weak when he got down in front of your chair after breakfast to give you head, which ended in him keeping you pinned to that chair until you´d come three times and had drenched his whole mouth, begging for him to go easy on you by the end, which had made him pull his head away, wipe his mouth all smug like “yeah, I think my knees work just fine, thanks for the concern though, baby”.

“such a tease” he said then, as he splayed his palm over your lower back and felt the heat there. “only for you” you murmured against his stomach, almost dozing off for a second there. “hmm damn right, all mine.. all mine..” he whispered in awe as he watched you, felt your weight on his body, thanked whichever version of God he was still capable of believing in that you´d been sent his way, that he got to have you like that, all to himself, throughout the harshest winters he´d ever known, his own personal sun, his source of light, his everything.

after ten more minutes of peaceful silence, he said “I´ll take that bath now, I think. only if you join, that is”. you got up and sat on the bed, caressed his arm and said “if you´re gonna wash my hair for me, then yes” giving him doe-eyes and rubbing his shoulder, which made him laugh “always, anything you need, princess. five more minutes though”. the last part was mumbled as he pulled you in, so you could sit on his legs and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“ten.” you countered. “deal..” he whispered and rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes closed, relaxed, content, both of you melting into each other.

by that point it had started snowing again but you were blissfully unaware, not a care in the world about how cold it would be in the coming days or weeks or months until it would finally turn milder again, since you knew: we´ll keep each other warm. we´ll always come home to this. this endless source of life-affirming heat.

[meatgrinder-0]

something that ive found myself thinking about a lot recently is the loss of autonomy that you have over your identity and what makes you "human" when you die.

(as has been said before by multiple different people) technically ford does not die when he goes through the portal, but as many have said at this point--in a metaphysical way when he goes through the portal he is dead in the eyes of his dimension, so i find in the narrative he experiences a similar loss of his humanity and in the same way that might've occurred with his death, his memory for any that have access to any form of it constructs him into an idea rather than a person.

and really anything can be said and done with him by the people who are still "alive" when this occurs. since he is in all aspects dead people can use him to justify their actions, as a figure in their concepts, and imagine him up to be whoever they want him to be for as long as he remains dead. the audience of course also partook in these same things prior to his reveal by theorizing about what type of person he was or how he might fit into the narrative as a person but to be more specific to examples of this idea in the show is how stan and dipper see ford as an idea.

due to being absent ford had no possible way to influence what stan thought he would want him to do about the portal outside of his existing warnings in his journals so stan is able to twist ford into a justification to work towards opening the portal, and during the length of his work on it according to alex's statements about stan "expecting ford to be weak and in need of help when he came out of the portal" (i feel the likely useless need to say whatever a creator says about their work is always only as canon as one wants it to be but this is worth mentioning here and i think it makes sense contextually within the text) the ford who comes back is so jarring because in his "death" he's become an ideal of what stan wants to see in him to play into his hero fantasy and hopes of earning back his appreciation

and of course as i think about a normal amount of times per day--the duration of the show presents the author as a figure that is wrapped up in a concept of ford while presenting him in a much more mythical format--another one of gravity falls' mysteries. pretty much every main character that isnt stan views him in this mystical light throughout the show with dipper being the prime example and uses the idea of "the author" as a driving force to pursue the questions that the town begs them to ask. there is something to be said about how creators of the show refer to journal 3 as "its own character" in a way that clearly separates it from it's author. even outside of the universe of the show itself, even in the show's own writing team ford--somehow despite being already being only a concept by virtue of being fictional--is stripped of humanity and becomes an even further abstracted concept.

but even to the ford who is alive the self who had gone through the portal is also a concept. i know this idea isnt explored much in canon if at all but bear with me here while i make shit up for fun--in a way, we ourselves the way we are now are dying near constantly. when we wake up each morning we of course have access to the same memories and the same body and the same experiences as the self we were before we fell asleep, but if we were to get existential, how can we be sure that we are the same consciousness that we were before?

even if this is a bit too absurd of a concept to be applying to a messy braindump "analysis" of a fictional character theres something about how extreme change in a person (often from trauma as ford has experienced for Obvious reasons) or even just the passage of time leaves the former self as nothing more but a memory to even the body that it once inhabited.

as i said theres not much to connect this to in the canon of the text, but i do believe that ford does see his past self who wrote the journals as an idea just as much as anyone else in his life did.

[beastyeastfreak]

could we get beast headcanons for a reader who has long since grown exhausted life’s struggles and becomes perfectly happy to play pet? no need to work so hard for scraps, the only thing expected of them is their loyalty and to sit there looking pretty—what bliss!

(bonus points if we get to see each respective ancient’s reactions to such “mindless” compliance)

(bonus bonus points if the main reason reader was so exhausted is because they were being trained as that ancient’s apprentice of sorts)

I kinda love this idea because i absolutely would fold too

Cw and tags: Romantic, beasts partially see reader as a pet/toy/decor/trophy but not completely dehumanized(written as reader being ok with/liking it), kidnapping, theres a good bit of time between beasts escaping and being defeated in ESC’s and MFC’s just to make it make sense.

Written before the silent salt update

Mystic Flour

🌾 - Every cookie in the cacao kingdom was overworked, you were just the only one who could admit it. You wanted to leave the kingdom at many times, but the weather was simply too hazardous. You staying lead to you going further and further up the ranks until landing you at Dark Cacaos advisor. Your seat at the table had been empty for some time and you soon learned why. You would not have taken the opportunity if you knew surveillance would be apart of it. No one wanted another Affogato incident and neither did you! Everything you said was always double checked, everyone automatically assumed there was a chance you were lying. You didn’t even know the guy and yet he was making an already hard job harder.

🌾 - She is not surprised when she finds you and you give up without any threats to you or the kingdom. Anyone would turn to apathy after enduring such hardships and distrust. When she found you, she was surprised your entire head icing had not gone grey. If peace were a cookie, you were every opposite to it. She saw within you was distress, hidden under sternness and “playing nice to appear less suspicious”. At first she welcomes you just to pull you away from Dark Cacao, but as her interest grows her intentions deviate. She’ll find you sitting alone many days, unable to rest even despite the serenity of the pagoda and the amount of sweet food given to you during your stay here. Eternal Sugar herself delivered a tooth achingly sweet berry for you and still nothing worked. You were as tough and tasteless as dark chocolate slabs.

🌾 - Such devotion to a futile cause and devotion to work, she wanted to change that. She wanted apathy to swallow you whole, for you to realize how much your kingdom had made you work, for you to completely break and trail behind her like a decoration but ultimately find peace. You seemed likely to be submissive with little push, she just has to break down those walls brick by brick, and by the witches she will do that.

🌾 - It starts slow. No more of your old attire. You were too far gone to find apathy on your own so you had to stay with her. By now you already lived in the mountains with her but she makes sure you can’t leave. Her plan for you is for each step further you became ok with the last step taken, you would not realize you were becoming undone. Isolation was another helpful bonus, without the discriminatory eyes of outside cookies it was much easier for her. She expects you to revolt or cringe at whatever she has in mind for you, strangely you do not. You nod at her demands and thank her when she gifts you something to wear.

🌾 - Your gaze became softer, you fretted less over small inconveniences and mistakes. Without being asked you accompanied her when she wasn’t meditating alone, and soon you joined her there too. It became less of an attack on Dark Cacao and more of her just enjoying your presence and wanting you to be without all the stress that came with life that she had not carved. Now instead of worrying for your people, juggling duties for your kingdom and tossing in bed you were hers. You were compliant, calm, apathetic. Her actions which could once be misinterpreted as friendly became more tender, indulgent even. She wanted you to be close because she liked you from the beginning, but now she was honest about it.

🌾 - Slowly, she allows you to break down her walls and rules. Her standard for what apathy should look like on normal cookies had changed but only when it was you. For some time she tries to form a gap between you both, her desire was clouding her judgment and making you less and less apathetic in her eyes. She wasn’t the right influence, ironically enough. Still, you bridged that gap with the same patience she had bestowed upon you. Finally, she decided there could be a middle ground. Just for you.

🌾 - When Dark Cacao sees Mystic Flour again you’re with her. He’s angry, she dared cast a spell on you? Kidnap his trusted advisor! She assures him for you, there is no magic, she granted you peace and he will be next. She takes your chin not in a grab or a hold, just placed there and you follow her hand like a dog moves towards petting. She graces your lips with a light, slow peck. “They made the decision to allow me in, and now they have accepted apathy into their heart and their needless struggles will hurt them no more.” She says, he is still furious but his anger is still guided at her, he finds your state repulsive and will either exile you or try to fix you when he eventually defeats her.

(Reader isn’t affiliated with the cheese kingdom in this one sorry, broly poly)

Burning Spice

🏜️ - Burning Spice had eradicated many places off the face of earthbread and history. In his crusade for complete destruction, there was only one hypocrisy. He was known to take home trophies of his own on rare occasions, forfeiting from the idea he had completely wiped something away. Usually it was highly important artifacts that he’d snatch away just to destroy later on or use as blackmail… and destroy after he gets what he wants. Sometimes it was food and drinks, maybe even jewelry or status symbols of some kind. But one time, it was a cookie.

🏜️ - You belonged to a busy kingdom, bustling due to an influx of cookies seeking safety from the Beast epidemic. Cookies saviors had turned their backs to them and they needed someone to look to. Said cookie that everyone turned to was the king of said city, and you the advisor. Though sometimes it felt like you had taken all the kingly responsibilities without the according payment. So obviously as more cookies came into the city escaping the beasts wrath, more duties pawned onto you while he lounged around. So, your irritation grew, it became a tangled storm within you which could not be tamed.

🏜️ - In due time, the gaze of destruction settled upon the land. The wind grew like an announcement, or perhaps a warning. You were told of the approaching swarm and were able to evacuate many cookies, as many as you were able to but soon you were caught in the crossfire. Forced to hide within the castle with the king and a few select servants and knights. There, unknowingly being overheard by The Great Destroyer himself behind the protective door you voice your frustrations knowing death was coming for you. You let him know every little thing that angered you, finishing with something like “i would have rather been at the feet of some beast then serve another day with you. I will take great pleasure from my grave seeing your crumbs atop this destroyed city!” Among other profanities.

🏜️ - Finding amusement in your words, when he breaks the door down he decides to spare you. He pretends to not have heard anything, looks at you as the spice swarm comes in to finish everyone off. He doesn’t ask your name, “you are mine now” and your fate was sealed. You thought it would be a life of servitude in store for you, that was all you had known after all. To your surprise, no work waited for you. You were given clothing, food all for you to basically be a pet. Honestly after dealing with all you had gone through, you just gave in and accepted the role. No longer ‘advisor y/n cookie’ now whatever the strangely affectionate name of the week was.

🏜️ - Gradually as you and Burning Spice got closer, he saw you less as a pet or a trophy and more like a partner. Every time he returned from another massacre or hunting trip, you’d be there to greet him. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection, or feelings. His possessiveness of you grew strangely and he hated it. He did not want to sound greedy by saying you were his, but everyone sort of just figures it out anyway. Your living situation was already quite luxurious but now you were basically treated the same as him, partially because you never leave his side and because no one wants to anger him for mistreating you. Somehow, the underpaid worker became The Great Destroyers only treasure.

Eternal sugar

🌷 - You weren’t particularly high class, that was your problem. You were trying to get by selling your wares and working extra jobs in the hollyberry kingdom. It was no ones fault but circumstances, you simply were born poor. You would have to live this life, sing a song sung before. Hollyberrian pride and willpower was the only thing that kept you going… and maybe a little too much juice than you’d like to say. You would be lying if you said you didn’t envy royals who only worried about how soft their cushions were and the style of whatever juice they were sipping on.

🌷 - When the beasts first escaped, Eternal Sugar seemed to immediately locate her other halfs kingdom and have a look around though she was very unseen. Oh, all these poor hard working cookies! She thought it was bad until she saw you, she told herself she would try to hold back on taking any suffering cookie home but she couldn’t resist! You simply couldn’t wait, you needed her help now. So she waited for dusk to come so she could take you with no issues from anyone else. You began to make your way home, shoulders slumped and face down. In disguise(really just hiding the wings honestly), she bumped into you causing her to fall. You help her up as she assumed you would, then comes some acting lessons from shadow milk. She was visiting the city but it was so busy this time of year and she had no where to stay as all the hotels were booked. Though you could have given her directions to a friends house, you offer to let her stay on your couch unknowingly inviting a beast into your home.

🌷 - Over dinner, she has you talk all about yourself. She doesn’t break your walls, she grows vines and uses them to climb. For once your struggles were seen heard. Soon she gets you to admit what she was waiting for: “Even though its not very.. hollyberrian, i just want to stop working, sit down and rest for like.. ever.. you know?” She smiles, “i can help with that.” Then begins to stand up, she walks with her back facing away and drops her metaphorical cloak, wings now billowing out and any other beast like feature she was hiding now for you to see. She explains who she is and what she does, she expects fear or excuses, but you sit in weary shock then crack a joke, “do you still need to stay on my couch?” Obviously you already have her heart.

🌷 - You leave soon after, taking a few things and leaving a note so your friends wont think you’ve been kidnapped (you have but willingly). Love blossoms between you two somewhat quickly, she eased tension in your body and mind. Kisses felt like resolve slowly dropping, poison spreading delightfully through your system. Juice hadn’t even come close to creating a feeling like being with her. She keeps you with her, you’re always leaning against each other or tangled up in either lap. Like the angel she was, she had delivered you from a life of hard work for nothing and you had given her your presence which was payment enough.

🌷 - By the time Hollyberry and her friends arrive you had already been well adjusted into the garden. When Hollyberry arrives in the heart, where you reside, she tries to talk to you. She thinks you were captured and are playing the long game to escape, or maybe you were under a spell. Tiger lily tries to get you to eat a berry and you do but nothing happens, disproving their claims. Hollyberry isn’t upset, with you at least, she’s glad you found happiness here but knows one day you may come to regret it. You on the other hand couldn’t be happier.

Shadow Milk

🃏 - Ever since Pure Vanilla was just blind healer, you were at his side. Rebuilding the Vanilla Kingdom among every other hardship you endured slowly built up a lot of tolls you were taking. When Pure Vanilla began his travels to beast yeast, he chose you to go with him. Despite your overwhelming tiredness, which you had been hiding quite well, you agreed with no hesitation. If someone was threatening the safety of your kingdom you had to help Pure Vanilla take care of them.

🃏 - The night before you left for beast yeast you were plagued with a nightmare. A dark void with blue eyes and stars all around, a voice coming from beyond. “A little liar are we? I wonder how much it’ll take for me to knock you over!” You felt as though you were pushed to the ground though there was no ground in sight. “It’s a shame you’re on the wrong side, I wouldn’t have treated you sooo bad,” someone obscured by darkness floated around you. You were so knee deep in work you didn’t oppose though you knew this entity was of darkness. “Hmm? Whats that? Cant hear you… did you not say anything? Oh its almost like you.. you want to come with me!” He breaks into laughter, whoever was in this dream with you was weirding you out. “Weeeelll~ if you want to so badly.. i do need another plaything, its not like you’d have to do anything! Come on, this deal ends soon!” He says in a singsong voice but almost on command you’re awakened by knocking on your door. Apparently you had slept in.

🃏 - When you do finally meet face to face with Shadow Milk, he’s quick to pull you away from the others to ask if you made up your mind which makes you realize who he was. He reminds you of all you went through, and you decide yes you will go with him just not to be flaunted at Pure Vanilla. He sends you to his other realm, when he handles them then he’ll bring you out and you can be his little puppet for the rest of eternity, how enticing. He proceeds to lose, and return to the silver tree for some time with you still with him.

🃏 - He did not need his ego stroked, but strangely that was something you did that landed you a lot of rewards. He spends the entire time back in the silver tree avoiding the other beasts for screwing up. They know they’ll be back out again pretty quickly but still, they cant help but make some attempts on his life. He entertains you with puppet shows, stories which are definitely not 100 % true and messing with Pure Vanillas dreams. You do nothing but float around him looking pretty but still are praised by the other beasts for “putting up with him”. He’s very annoying by their standards.

🃏 - When they all escape again, he gets you brand new matching clothes and a room in the spire. He all but keeps you away from the fun, you now have to watch all your friends fight him and Pure Vanilla struggle. Shadow Milk uses you as a way to torment him. Eventually he becomes Truthless Recluse, who has no real opinion on you. He just thinks your lapdog behavior is kind of annoying, but so is shadow milks behavior so maybe you’re destined for eachother

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

a/n: published this on wattpad a while ago. someone said i should upload it here as well so here it is :)

summary: natasha romanoff x married!reader; nat and you used to be in love. now, years later, you're married to a wealthy man and have a daughter with him. will running into natasha change everything? (not the best description but you get the point)

warnings: none (i think)

word count: 4.9k

part 1, part 2, part 3…

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

— THE ART GALLERY —

Nude-colored stilettos hit the concrete, the ground underneath still slightly wet from the rain earlier. Two little feet, clad in white ballet flats, follow. You feel a warm hand slip into yours, tugging lightly.

Nina stares at you, her eyes wide and her hand clutching the little stuffed bear she carries everywhere. Despite being used to this kind of extravagance, she's overwhelmed — and you definitely can't blame her.

A long red carpet stretches out in front of you, leading up to the entrance of the art gallery. People with cameras everywhere, the frenzy of flashing lights and clicking noises enough to irritate you. Sleek entrance doors that are open wide, allowing the chatter of the people inside to waft all the way over to where you're standing.

The large windows of the gallery glow warmly, casting a golden light onto the lush grass surrounding it. It's a modern building, long and almost box-like. Not what you would've picked, but it's not like anyone's asking you anyway.

This is Ethan's dream. It's an investment he made. It's — just like you and the girl holding your hand — more of a status symbol than anything else. Theres not much passion behind this, as its main purpose is to project sophistication and attract alliances among elite circles.

Circles you never wanted to be a part of.

What are you even doing here?

You thank your driver before closing the door of the black sedan, then you crouch down in front of Nina. You smooth her hair down with practiced elegance, catching the look in her eyes.

"It's loud", she states, pulling the teddy to her chest. "Where's daddy?"

"He's inside, honey." You straighten back up, adjusting your silk slip dress. An emerald color, matching the deep forest green of Nina's velvet attire. "You ready?"

"Yes!" She grabs your hand again, suddenly seeming more like the usual, confident child she is. At least someone isn't completely dreading the upcoming few hours, which surely will be spent making pointless smalltalk and eating food you can't even pronounce.

You smile at her, then you take a deep breath. Silently steeling yourself for the evening, you finally make your way up to the entrance.

A few staff members in chic evening attire linger by the door, greeting arriving guests and bowing ever so slightly as they recognize you. You smile, hoping they can't sense how nervous you are. Nina stays close by your side, the soft padding of her feet the only thing that's keeping you grounded in reality right now.

Honestly, part of you doesn't know what you're doing here. You're supporting your husband, sure — but, again, this is his project. You weren't involved in this in the slightest. Hell, you didn't even know about it up until two months ago, when he suddenly confessed to buying this building in the heart of Tribeca.

You were confused, as you couldn't believe he'd keep this a secret for so long. It's a big investment, after all, and you thought he'd include you in something like this.

As always, his response was defensive; it was the usual shtick of "it's my money and I'm allowed to do what I want with it and you don't care about my work anyway" — something you've heard too many times. You eventually decided to drop it, finding that an argument at 6 in the morning would be pointless and only lead to more issues.

What you're seeing now is the outcome of his idea to invest in something that's even more extravagant than his luxury condos in Manhattan.

White walls and high ceilings, a clean and polished interior. Spotlights highlight the artwork — large-scale abstract paintings, photographs of New York landmarks taken at unique angles, vibrant pop art pieces.

Nina's eyes are even wider than yours. She starts bouncing on the spot, her hand squeezing yours.

"Mommy, mommy! A bear!"

Of course. That damned bear painting, displayed right at the beginning of the main wall. It's there because of Nina, because he desperately wanted to tell everyone how he kept his daughter's favorite emotional support toy in mind for this. It's both cute and infuriating, because you're well aware that your child would rather see her dad than some abstract piece of art that vaguely reminded him of that stuffed animal.

"Looks like Bearie, hm?", you reply, gently coaxing her further into the room. You're trying to get away from all the prying eyes. You're sure you've been recognized by now.

"Yes! But it's pink. Why is it pink? Bearie isn't pink."

"No, he isn't." You shake some older woman's hand, offering her a polite smile.

Nina keeps chattering happily, taking in all the sensations around her. Classical music floating from hidden speakers, the guests — a predictable assortment of New York's elite — all dressed in tailored suits and couture dresses. The laugher is quiet but rich, as expected; you don't hear a single genuine sound apart from your daughter's little voice.

"Mommy, look! It's shiny", she whispers with a small gasp, pointing at a twisting metal piece that's catching the light just right. She's enchanted by the sculpture. At least someone here is genuinely interested in art.

"Good observation, bug", you whisper back, gently nudging her further into the room.

Unbeknownst to you, a familiar redhead stands at the far edge of the gallery, her back to the crowd and her eyes scanning over the art displayed in front of her.

. . .

Ethan places his hand on your lower back, a gesture that feels like it's rather about keeping you at a distance than having you close. Nina reaches for his sleeve, pulling at it.

"Daddy? Can we-"

"Honey, I'm talking", he says firmly, briefly touching her hair before straightening up again. In front of you is a man who's (apparently) quite important. Richard Harrington, a renowned art collector and critic, balding and in his late 60s. "Mr. Harrington, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Y/N, and our daughter Nina."

"Pleasure to meet you", you say dutifully, shaking his hand. Nina just stares at him, slowly beginning to hide behind your leg.

"Likewise." Harrington glances at your child, who's clearly not fond of him. He clears his throat, plastering a small smile on his face. "I trust Ethan has been keeping you well acquainted with the art world?"

"Of course", you say politely, giving a short nod. You glance at Nina as her hand twitches in your grasp, her patience clearly waning. She's a child — environments like this one, forced and restricted, are the furthest from what fits her spirit. "Just a moment, sweetheart."

Nina huffs, giving the man another last, scrutinizing glare. Her hand slips out of yours during a short moment of carelessness — you're too focused on appearing both friendly and charming, trying to make this Harrington-guy think you're some picture-perfect family.

Then you realize that the warmth of your daughter's hand has gone missing from yours. Starting to panic, your eyes immediately sweep across the room. It's not that big of a building, but it's dark outside, and you really don't want to lose her in this flock of people. Thankfully, you manage to catch a peek of her velvet dress as it disappears behind a corner.

"Sorry, she- she loves art a little too much for her own good", you apologize, stepping away from your husband and the art mogul. Ethan clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"Kids, you know", he says, smiling stiffly, as you've already started to go and catch up to your daughter.

Nina has always been a little artist. She carries crayons and small notepads wherever she can, drawing random stuff while sitting in the back of the car or while waiting for her food in restaurants. She'll stop whenever she sees a sculptures, asking increasingly specific questions until you're on the verge of despair. Her drawers are filled with 'art supplies' — leaves, buttons, washi tape — and the walls of her bedroom are full of her drawings. Her love for everything creative is the only reason why you appreciate your husband's decision to invest in this gallery.

Her eyes get stuck on the painting that a woman with red hair is looking at. Nina chews on her lip as she sees the info panel underneath, the amount of letters too overwhelming for her not even four year old brain to string together into words yet. She swiftly grabs the hand of the woman next to her, deep green eyes meeting her own.

For a moment, Natasha feels like she's looking at someone she met in what feels like another life. The same features, the same eyes, the same little frown on her face. So sweet, so familiar, digging up memories that she buried years ago.

Beneath the soft spotlights, Natasha's face is framed in surprise. Something vulnerable flickers through her eyes as she studies the child. She masks her surprise fairly quickly, but she still feels taken aback.

"Miss? Can you read this for me?" Then, sounding hopeful, the girl adds: "Please?"

Natasha nods, crouching down next to the child without thinking twice. This is surely a coincidence, she thinks, glancing over her shoulder. Then her eyes skim over the short text printed on the info panel, her hand still holding the girl's absentmindedly.

"It's called 'Whispers of the Wind'", she reads aloud, her usual detached tone softened. "Painted by an artist named Ciara Han. It's supposed to remind you of the sound trees make when the wind moves through them."

Nina smiles at her and Natasha feels herself falter once more. She knows that smile.

No, correction: knew. She knew that smile.

"Thank you!", Nina whispers like she's sharing a secret, still refusing to let go of the woman's hand. She has no clue who she is, but she was nice enough to read the info panel to her, and to her toddler-brain that automatically means she's a friend.

"You're welcome. But you shouldn't go walking around talking to strangers", Natasha says gently, her eyes filled with concern. "Where's your-"

"There you are!" You hurry over, breathless and apologetic, and put your hands on Nina's shoulders. The little girl looks up at you, only now letting go of the woman's hand. "You can't just wander off like that", you chide softly.

Ready to apologize to the woman next to your daughter, you look up from the child's face.

Nothing could have prepared either of you for this moment.

The eye contact sucks you back into a past you believed to be long buried, one you'd rather forget. Your breath hitches, her mask crumbles. Raw emotions, brief as the flicker of a candle, both of you too stunned to say something at first.

"Natasha", you finally say, still looking like you've just seen a ghost.

"It's been a while", she replies simply, straightening up. Navy blazer and a matching skirt, high heels that accentuate her calves. Red lips, red hair. Effortlessly stunning, as always.

You clear your throat, looking at Nina to distract yourself. "This, uhm- this is my daughter."

Nina looks back at Natasha, whose name she now knows. "Are you and my mommy friends?"

"Something like that."

You shoot her a small, bittersweet smile, gently tugging Nina to your side. "Didn't think you'd be into art, if I'm being honest."

Natasha smiles slightly, glancing at the row of paintings next to you. Han's 'Whispers of the Wind', Kozlova's 'Boundless Skies', Monroe's 'In the Absence of Time'.

No, she isn't into art. Never really has been, if she's being honest — she enjoys literature much more. A good book, maybe. That's her thing. She can't tell you why she's actually here, though.

"Didn't think you'd be, either", Natasha says, loosely clasping her hands together.

"I'm not", you admit, causing Nina to give you an offended look. "This art gallery? It's my husband's, actually. I'm just here to...support him, you know."

All of a sudden, it's like someone turned on a light switch in Natasha's head. A look of realization crosses her face. Y/N Bailey, wife of investment banker Ethan Bailey — she'd skipped that part carelessly, not deeming it of any significance. The name had been familiar, but the surname was enough to make her forget about it.

Now, she feels stupid for not checking.

"Right", she says slowly, looking at Nina again. Her eyes soften. "She seems to like it quite a bit, though."

"I know." You glance at your daughter, remembering how you found her; next to a crouching Natasha, listening to her as she read the info panel to her. "By the way, did you say thank you?"

"I said thank you." Nina nods earnestly. Natasha and you smile simultaneously, your eyes locking. Then, short lived lightheartedness of the moment vanishes like smoke.

You chastise yourself for even beginning to think that it's nice to see her again.

"Well, I'm not going to hold you up any longer. Enjoy your evening."

"You too", you say quietly, making your daughter look at you with a puzzled expression.

. . .

— BEHIND CLOSED DOORS —

Your days have been the same ever since Nina was born. More or less, anyways.

Coffee and checking the news while your daughter's asleep. Time that feels hollow, spent alone since Ethan leaves an hour before you wake up. You've convinced yourself that you're used to it, that it'll change eventually. He loves you, you love him — one day, you won't feel as lost as you do right now. All you've got to do is push through and fight for this.

Next on the agenda: showering. Waking Nina up and getting her ready for the day. Breakfast together, then driving her to preschool.

You miss her as soon as you're back in the car, her seat now empty. She'll be gone for the next few hours, which means that the hardest part of your day is about to start.

You'll do anything to kill time — go grocery shopping, do the laundry, make sure the house is nice and clean. You never envisioned yourself as a stay-at-home wife (and sometimes, you can't believe that this term is very much accurate now, whether you want to admit it or not), but here you are. Cleaning, picking up things for Ethan, doing stuff around the house.

You feel pathetic for despising a life you willingly chose. Guilt is a constant visitor, dwelling in your mind like an annoying little fly you can't shoo out of the house. Worst of all: you feel like Nina deserves better. You try your hardest to be the mom she deserves, but you can't help but feel like you're failing her in ways you can't quite put into words.

Frustrated, you buckle up and start the car. There's a sense of silent camaraderie as all the parents (mostly moms, of course) finally start to empty the parking lot in front of the preschool. Some of them are going to work, others are spending the day like you.

Despite the fact that you're not that different all, you still feel like a complete outsider.

You turn up the music as you continue driving without a specific location in mind. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel anxiously, betraying your quiet humming. Self-soothing never really worked for you.

Without your consent, your mind starts conjuring up images from last night. One thing they all have in common is Natasha.

You haven't seen her in so long. Six years, maybe even seven, have passed since your breakup. You spent all that time forgetting what you had, tucking it away so it's safe and sound, trying to get over her.

You are over her, aren't you?

You love Ethan, after all. You married him — the ring on your left hand is proof of that — and even had a child with him. He's everything you could desire in a person, but he's also nothing you ever wanted.

Sometimes, you have the feeling that you fell in love with an idea rather than the man himself. He's hard-working, ambitious, with a keen eye for prestige and profit. You secretly believe he thinks of his marriage to you as yet another achievement, something that looks good on paper. And while he does love Nina, it's also obvious that he just doesn't enjoy being a father the way you hoped he would.

Wealth, luxury, status — a family, held together by money and responsibility. Just thinking about it makes your skin crawl, especially when you remember how different it was with Natasha.

Natasha wasn't easy, and neither were you, but it was real. It was genuine affection, quiet understanding, raw love — soft and sweet and haunting.

There's a reason why it took you so many years to forget — and all it took was running into her for you to remember it all.

You look up, realizing where you've been driving. You slow down, your heart hammering, your eyebrows knitting in confusion.

The Avengers Tower looks different. The logo is gone, replaced by the words Stark Industries — glowing in neon lights, of course — and the building in general has changed. The logo, the sleek design, the parking lot where you once saw the Quinjet come and go.

Your stomach drops. You can't resist the temptation to pull over, so you do just that. Your fingers shake as you unbuckle, then you hesitantly get out of the car to confirm what you just saw.

The Avengers are gone. They've moved, moved on, moved to god knows where, a location you can't even begin to guess. You didn't keep in touch, you let the distance grow, and now there's no way for you to find Natasha.

Stop. You blink a few times, shaking your head and mentally slamming your foot down on the brakes. Your thoughts have taken an unwelcome turn, a dangerous one at that. You shouldn't mourn something that slipped from your fingertips years ago, not when you've finally settled into your own life.

Natasha isn't your reality anymore. She's your past — which is something no one will ever be able to take from you —, but nothing more.

The leather of the driver's seat is still warm when you sit down, but the hollow feeling in your chest won't leave.

. . .

"Look, mommy."

Nina is standing in front of you, holding out yet another drawing. You put the folded jeans aside before gently taking it from her, making sure not to accidentally crease the paper. The last time that happened, it ended with her throwing a tantrum.

"Wow, that's amazing", you praise her, still inspecting the drawing. It's your parental duty to commend every piece of art she hands you, but you're also genuinely impressed. The castle she drew is surprisingly realistic, at least if you consider the fact that she's not even four years old. "You even added a princess!"

"That's Rapunzel", she explains, her finger lightly poking at the blonde-haired figure. She even remembered to add that signature long braid. "Can I show daddy?"

You hesitate, passing the drawing back to her. "Daddy's working, honey."

"Please?", she begs, pouting. "I be quick."

"You'll be quick, huh?" You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. You feel bad for her — Ethan came home early, but immediately disappeared into his office. He did hug the girl right after arriving, but even that seemed hurried. "Alright, fine. Come here."

You get off the couch and scoop her up, carrying her out of the living room. You walk up the two steps that lead to the small landing, then you turn to access the main part of the staircase. Clean, minimalistic hallways that feel almost sterile, a stark contrast to the homey feel of the living area downstairs. Maybe that's the reason why your husband spends most of his time up here.

You open the door to his office, just barely catching a glimpse of him shutting down his computer rapidly. He swivels around in his desk chair, trying to appear unfazed.

"You didn't knock."

You frown, setting Nina down on the floor. She pads over to him, waving the drawing in front of his face. He glances at it, making a halfhearted sound of approval.

"I need to knock?", you finally ask, slightly disbelieving. "Are you being serious?"

"I'm working", Ethan promptly replies, patting Nina's head before nudging her back in your direction. She huffs quietly, reaching out her arms for you. You set her on your hip, your jaw clenching as Ethan continues. "You can't just burst in like that. What if I had been in a Zoom meeting?"

"Were you?", you probe, shifting your hold on your daughter.

"Does it matter?!"

"Yes, it-" You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. No fighting in front of the kid, you remind yourself — begrudgingly. "You know what? It doesn't matter, Ethan. It really doesn't."

He watches you, his lips set in a thin line. He contemplates what to say now, how to end this short argument without riling you up further.

You raise your eyebrows, still waiting. He sighs, leaning back in his chair and ruffling up his hair.

"I'll be downstairs in ten. Maybe we can watch a movie together?"

Nina's eyes widen when she hears that, oblivious to the fact that it's just a strategy to appease you. She quickly taps your shoulder. "Oh, Tangled! Mommy, please Tangled?"

You look at her and smile, your eyes softening. You feel bad that you're even thinking this, but you can't help yourself: thank god she didn't turn out to be like him.

"Sure, honey." You turn around and leave, your voice slowly turning muffled as you go downstairs. "Help me with the popcorn?"

. . .

— IN PLAIN SIGHT —

Natasha adjusts her earrings, her eyes locking on the silver jewelry through the mirror. She reaches for some lipstick — a more natural shade, one that doesn't stand out as much — and slides on a pair of glasses.

Her bag is just full enough to not raise suspicion. A taser, miniature bugs, a parabolic microphone, USB sticks and a multi-tool lock pick set. A compact mirror and smoke pellets, a customized phone — voice modulator and spoofing app included — and a cable launcher.

Does she feel bad? Only mildly.

Only because of your connection to all of this.

Still, she can't let old feelings and sentimentality stand in the way of this. People are getting hurt, whether he wants to admit it to himself or not. He's not the one who's pulling the strings, but he's financing it.

Natasha steps out of the car, inspecting the sleek office building in front of her. High-end, in the middle of Manhattan's financial district.

Her high heels clack on the polished floors of the lobby, her manicured hands keep a tight grasp on the clipboard in front of her chest. The elderly receptionist is too distracted to pay her much attention, so she swiftly dips into the elevator, joining a group of middle-aged men.

Natasha faces the doors of the elevator, her ears picking apart every detail of the men's quiet conversation. Nothing about an Ethan or Mr. Bailey, nothing that could be of use.

The elevator dings when it arrives on the floor where Bailey's office is located. She steps out, moving through the hallways with a confident elegance that makes it seem like she belongs here. Just another coworker that's on her way to start a day filled with issuing stocks and bonding shares, making rich companies even more money.

A name tag tells her that she's found what she's looking for. She hides behind a corner, pulls out her phone and matches her phone number to the lobby desk. Finally, she dials Ethan's number.

He picks up, his voice slightly irritated after he saw who's calling. "Bailey here. What is it?"

"Mr. Bailey", Natasha says, her professional tone mimicking the receptionist's perfectly. "There's a delivery for you in the lobby. The courier insists on handing it over personally."

"Is that really necessary? I'm busy."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "It won't take long. They said it's important. Something about a painting?"

"Right, right. I'll be there in a minute."

She can hear him jump up, the door to his office suddenly opening as the phone call ends. Footsteps make their way down the hall, turning quieter until they entirely stop. The elevator doors slide open with a soft 'whoosh', confirming his current absence.

Natasha puts the phone away, then she makes a beeline for his office. Door's open — how careless.

She slips inside, her eyes immediately scanning the office. It looks like straight out of a catalogue. Extremely clean, apart from his desk which is littered with files and documents. A single, lonely plant in the corner, one family picture right next to his computer. Nina's much smaller in it, maybe a year old, but you're the same.

Aside from that, nothing personal. Nothing Nina made in preschool, no drawings, no souvenirs or trinkets. It's cold, but that's not surprising.

She turns away, discreetly planting a listening device under the desk. A micro camera is hidden between the leaves of the plant, placed strategically so he won't find it even when watering it.

Natasha doesn't have much time. Getting to the lobby, asking for the courier, and then getting back in the elevator will take approximately three minutes. She quickly plugs a portable hacking device into his computer. It bypasses the encryption and starts downloading files as she simultaneously takes pictures of the documents on his desk.

Financial ledgers, contracts, and a suspicious invoice from a shipping company. She wants to take a better look at it, but the device has finished downloading data, so she unplugs it and starts cleaning up. She leaves the office, waits for Ethan to return, and then makes her way into the lobby again.

The elevator doors shut at the exact moment you close the car door.

One hand holding Nina's and the other carrying a white paper bag, you make your way into the lobby. Natasha spots you and quickly hides behind a corner, watching you through her compact mirror. The last thing she needs now is for you to spot her and blow her cover.

"Hey, Erica. Can you watch her for a moment?"

The receptionist nods, smiling at Nina. This is a regular occurrence by now — you'll come by to bring Ethan something, and Nina will stay in the lobby to avoid getting too distracted by her father. If she sees him, you know it'll be hard to leave.

"Be good for Miss Erica, okay? Mommy won't take long", you promise her, letting her sit down on the chair next to Erica's. Nina holds onto her bear tightly, her eyes immediately zeroing in on a sticky note that's barely clinging to the frame of the computer.

You go into the elevator, pressing the button to Ethan's office. Natasha makes sure the doors have closed, then she steps out of her hiding spot. She weaves through the lobby unnoticed — until a little voice cuts through the air.

"Hey! Hey, mommy's friend!"

Natasha freezes.

Fuck. She didn't think about your daughter, or that she would recognize her. She especially didn't think she'd bother enough to come over and greet her with a wide smile on her face.

Slowly, she turns around. Nina has already padded over, her eyes wide and her excitement impossible to miss. One hand clutches her stuffed bear, the other tugs at Natasha's arm.

"Hey, kiddo", she says, briefly glancing up as Erica approaches them.

"Do you know her, sweetheart?", the receptionist asks, studying Natasha carefully. She hasn't seen this woman before, so Nina's ecstatic reaction makes her feel on guard.

"She's Natasha. She's my mommy's friend!"

Natasha directs a slightly helpless look at the receptionist before crouching down in front of Nina. She tries to calm the girl down, not wanting to attract more attention than necessary. She should be annoyed that the child decided to just run up to her and make everyone aware of her presence, but she can't help but be softened by the smile on the girl's face.

"Yes, I'm your mommy's friend", she says, trying to politely disengage. "But I have to leave, honey. I have an appointment. You know what an appointment is?"

"I do." Nina nods, still holding on to her sleeve. Natasha takes a fleeting look at the elevator again, ensuring you're still upstairs.

"Good, you're smart." Natasha smiles, not hearing the elevator doors slide open. "I have an appointment soon, so I have to hurry. Be nice and wait for your mommy, okay?"

You step into the lobby without Natasha noticing, a frown forming on your face as you realize Nina isn't in her spot by the reception desk anymore. Your eyes sweep across the room — and then you see her. It gives you a sense of deja vu, seeing a crouching Natasha next to your daughter.

First the art gallery, now this. What is going on?

You hurry over without dwelling on the thought too much, a wary look on your face. Her eyes zero in on your boots, slowly trailing up your body until her gaze meets yours.

"Natasha?"

[yllwjktscult]

Strawberries drowned in champaign - Lottie Matthews x reader

!!disclaimer- english is NOT my native language so there for sure will be grammar mistakes!!

in short: giving your girlfriend a head for the first time as an apology for waking her in a meanish way

WC: 2,8K

TW: even Laura Lee throwing a bible at you wont save you from this FILTH i created✋🏻😭 its not nasty, its actually really sweet and cute but WAY too explicit its basically a porn, good-fucking-bye and enjoy this shit (i am sticking with platonic/sad shits okay😭 but im gonna leave this here so i can delete it from my notes, cuz idk how i would explain to my best friend this filth in here when she will snoop in my notes for more of my poems/lyrics from my unreleased songs)

Anyway enjoy this im gonna cuddle a bible🫶🏻

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

You were sharing a room with Lottie, your girlfriend at the hotel your team is staying at for the days you are here for nationals. Last night you were celebrating the fact that you all are here and in two days you are playing.

Everyone went a little too over themselves with the celebration. Poor Laura Lee probably sprayed herself with holy water after she went to her room.

Chuckling at the blurry memories from last night you looked at Lottie being dead asleep in her bed.

Sprawled in her bed on her back like a starfish, with her fluffy dark hair all over the pillow, you looked at the clock seeing theres like an hour before you had to go meet with the rest of the team, and knowing Lottie, shes probably hangover, you want to wake her ass so she wont be that grumpy. And probably take a long shower to deal with the headache better.

"Lottie~" you called her name gently. She did not react at all. So you standed up from your bed and went closer to her "Lottie!" you said it more firmly but still with gentleness in your voice. Still nothing, shes dead asleep.

You shake her a little bit, calling her name once again. All she did was groan and nothing.

With a devilish smile on your face you grabbed your pillow and straddle her. Giving her last chance "Lottieee~" you called her name playfully with the pillow up in the air ready for the attack, yet she didnt even flinch at your voice calling her.

You smacked that pillow on her face, knowing this will wake her up. And it did, you could feel her jolt under you.

"What the fuck?! what was that for" she asks confused with raspy voice. You bite your lip trying not to giggle as you keep straddling her, looking down at her "To wake your ass up, Lottie~" you smiled innocently at her.

"Well.. you could have definitely woke me up in another way" she huffs, her voice still heavy with sleep "and get off me" she pouts, wanting to sleep.

With a smirk you did what she wanted, but you couldnt help yourself and tease her a little bit "Geeez, next time i will give you a head instead" you snicker as you walk away from her bed to bathroom, giggling to yourself.

Well Lottie did not expected that comment from you at all and her faced heated up.

Lottie covers her face with her hands to hide her flustered face, that comment you said going thru her head as a loop.

With a toothbrush in your mouth as you were brushing your teeth you lean against the door frame looking at your flustered girlfriend with a smirk on your face. Yeah, serves her right. That tall ass gremlin was making you flustered with her teasing the whole last night, so technically this is your payback and you smirk in victory.

She looks at you with her cheeks being slightly pinkish and you cant help but find her adorable. With giggles you leave back to bathroom to finish your teeth brushing.

After a while Lottie takes her turn in a bathroom and you are sitting in your bed, giggling to yourself. Still having her shocked, flustered face flashing your memory. Oh, how much you love teasing and rilling her up. Shes just so cute, all flustered and blushing. It makes your heart swell in happiness and love.

After couple of minutes she walks back, avoiding your eyes with her cheeks flustered as she lays on her bed again.

She closes her eyes, trying to rest and calm her heart, that comment still being on her mind.

With a smirk on your face, you decide to rill her up more, you loved teasing her.. and well, maybe you werenet joking. Maybe you wanted to do that.

You straddled her again, smirking down at her.

With that movement Lottie opens her eyes wide and stares at you, her cheeks getting pinkier "W-what are you doing, love?" she stutters.

You just tittle your head to a side with innocent look on your face, your hands traveling from her stomach up to her shoulders, slowly "Giving you a proper way to wake you up, like you wanted?"

Lottie cant barely form words. She swallows hard, looking at you with wide eyes, not expecting this from you at all. She has no idea if you are serious or if you are messing with her, but she cant deny the fact, it made her feel things. Yes, you were intimate before, but not like that.

Lottie is trying to focus and form a proper sentence, but with you, straddling her and your hands on her body is making her mind completely mushy and blank.

"I-" she attempts to say, but the words caught in her throat as she tries to ignore how her body reacts to your touch, and how it makes her feel.

"B-baby" Lottie whispers, her breath hitching in her throat as she tries to control how her body reacts to your touch and promixity.

You just hummed as you bite your lip looking at her and her reactions as your hands slowly wanders to her wrists, putting them gently on your hips, where they belong.

"Y-you are doing this on purpose" Lottie whispers, her voice being shaky, her face hot and flustered.

"Hmm, maybe.. or maybe i feel bad for waking you up like that.. i wanna make it up to you" you whispered lowly as you keep eye contact with her.

"You.. you do?" Lottie murmurs as her gaze softens.

"Yeah.. and i was serious about giving you a head" You did felt bad, and well hell you were serious about the second part.

Lottie nearly chokes on air the moment you said that. She cant help the way her heart starts to beat in her chest. She did not expected that.

"Y-you were serious?" she stutters with her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in shock.

All you could was just nod. Even your own gaze softens. You wanted to do that for a while, but there wasnt a good opportunity for it. You both were busy and when you were together it was usually with friends or were simply enjoying eachtohers company. And why not now, when you woke up your girlfriend in kinda mean way.

Lotties mind is swirling with emotions, but mainly want. The bare thought of you going down on her makes her feel certain things in her lower abdomen.

"Do you- Do you really want to..?" she asks above a whisper with a shaky voice.

You nod again "Only if you want to" you smile down at her.

Lottie bites down on her lip and nods. You have no idea how badly she wants that.

After she gives you a confirmation, you lean down to kiss her.

Lotties heart starts to race as you kiss her slowly and sensually. She responds with the same effort as you. She lets a soft moan as the kiss deepened with you parting your lips to invite her in your mouth. She doesnt waste no time and pushing her tongue in, brushing her tongue gently against yours. The soft tissue of tongues swirling in between your both mouths, making wet, sloppy noises each time your mouths open.

Lottie gasps when you bite down on her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering and a soft moan leaving her lips, her body arching towards you as the kiss gets more heated.

The kiss between you two feels like a sweet sensual dance, each movement filled with desire, love and longing.

Lottie lets out a soft moan when you started kissing down on her neck, leaving sloppy and open mouthed kisses. She feels a shiver run down her spine and her abdomen filling with flutter feeling, that is way too familiar. Her breathing becoming shallow and heavy as you continue your way down her neck with your kisses.

When you bite down on her neck, she lets out a soft moan of your name, her body arching slightly in respond to you. The sensation of your mouth on her skin is intoxicating.

Lotties breath hitches as you start kissing down her body over her shirt. Her body trembles slightly at the feeling of your movements of kisses down her body, moving further and further down.

Her breath hitches once again as your lips move to her lower abdomen, rolling her shirt up to her chest as you started leaving sloppy kisses there, from time to time, you gently bite on her skin down there. Each time you did, you felt Lotties body respond to you, her body arching towards your mouth and her own mouth leaving delicious sweet moans you absolutely love.

Lottie feels her heart stop beating for a moment when she feels your fingers hooking under the hem of her underwear on her sides. Her cheek flushing more red (if thats even possible at this point) when she looks down at you. She feels so vulnerable but so safe with you. Looking at you with her flustered cheeks.

With a kiss right between her abdomen and the hem of her underwear you lock eyes with her "Are you sure?" you asked gently, wanting her consent. Even tho you two were dating for nearly a year, you still want to be sure, sure that shes comfortable with it.

"Im sure" Lottie whispers, her voice trembling with nervousness and desire. God, you have no idea how much she wants this and how shes nervous about this.

When Lottie feels you slide her underwear off, leaving her completely exposed to you, her cheeks are now fully red as they burn letting out a shaky breath as shes exposed to you like god made her.

You gently put the underwear on the floor.

As you go back to her to kiss her, Lottie is feeling all source of emotions. Nervousness, vulnerability and raw intimacy, but also deep desire and excitement.

She wraps her hands around your neck, pulling you closer as she kisses you passionately with so much want, her body aching for your touch.

Your bodies press together, shes hyper aware of every inch of your body on hers, making her moan softly at the contact.

She kisses you with growing intensity, her mouth parting allowing you to explore her mouth. Making you moan at that. You will never get tired of kissing Lottie, just the simple kiss makes your knees weak and you feel like you might pass out whenever you have this type of intense make out sessions. As you moan into her mouth, Lottie feels a shiver run down her spine, cursing right away into her lower part of body when that beautiful sound you just made reach her ears, sending a heat right down to her core.

As you were sharing this passionate, slow kiss, your hand started moving down her body, all while you are kissing.

Lotties breath hitches, making her gasps for air as your hand reaches in between her naked legs. A jolt of pleasure shooting thru her as your touch find her sensitive spot, her mind starts to go hazy from the sensation.

Lottie breaks away from the kiss, letting her head fall back against the pillow as she moans softly, her body arching towards you, seeking more pleasure from you as your fingers do painfully slow circles over her sensitive spot.

You decided to put her out of her misery after few minutes of teasing and you slide your fingers in her without an issue, she was wet as niagara falls.

Lottie moans, this time a little loudly at the feeling of you in her, her arms tighting on your shoulders as she takes you in.

When you move your fingers in and out in her, she moans, her eyes fluttering shut, breath ragged and heavy, god she was never this turned on in her life as she is right now.

She can feel the pooling in her lower stomach, fluttering need building inside her.

She moans your name, uttering few 'fucks' under her breath each time you slide back in.

"Please-" she whispers shakily with need, swallowing thickly "Please i cant take it anymore" she looks at you with the pleading face that makes your knees weak. Who are you to say no to your girlfriend?

You kissed her quickly one last time before you started kissing your way down her body where your fingers were just few seconds ago.

Lottie moans as she feels your kisses getting closer and closer to where she needs you the most.

Lottie minds is completely blank when your warm mouth reaches her core. Her hips bucking up as your tongue swirls on her most sensitive part of her body, she reaches down to grab your hair as she moans your name, her head falling back against the pillow again as her body arch. Shes a moaning-whining mess.

And you are no better, you moan against her when the taste of her on your tongue gets to your taste buds. God...

The taste of her, made you moan in pleasure. She tastes like strawberries drowned in champaign. An addictive taste. So much better than you ever imagined.

The grip on your hair gets tighter as she pushes you more into her while her hips buckles against you. Lottie is whimpering, whining and moaning mess. Her head going completely blank. All she can focus is your fingers in her and your tongue circling on her bundle of joy, making her feel like she will burst right there and there in second.

A sharp take of breath of Lottie is heard and a grip on your hair tightens when she feels you put fingers back into her, more deeper than before and sucks her center. Her body arches on the bed, a loud moan escaping her lips, her hips moving involuntary against your movements of your mouth as you savour her.

You hum against her, which only makes the poor girl moan loudly at the sensation you are creating. Your fingers are going in and out in a rhythm as you suck, lick and gently bite her on her very much needed core.

Lottie is breathing heavily, her mind can only focus on you, in between her legs and the movements of your tongue against her and fingers going in and out of her.

Shes whimpering your name like a mantra, its the only thing she can say as the sensation of you fills her.

You can feel her warm walls around your fingers cleching, signalising shes getting close as you feel her twitch in your mouth.

You hum against her, knowing it will help. And oh boy it did, you heard her curse "Oh god" under her breath as her grip on your hair tightens and her moans gets more hight pitched, her breaths getting more ragged and shorter. Shes swallowing thickly as she feels her orgasm getting closer and closer.

Shes a whimpering mess, barely able to say your name.

"Please dont stop" she managed to say between her moans. You just hum again and that sets her over the edge. The grip on your hair tightens, her walls around your fingers as well as she twitches in your mouth. She arches her back as she lets out a last strangled moan of your name as her body shakes and muscles tense.

Shes letting out gasps and breathy moans as she rides her orgasm you just provide her.

After few seconds you kiss her inner tight and kiss your way up to her face. Where you start kissing her. Her chin, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. All over her face.

Lottie lets soft sighs as her body relaxes over your kisses. Lottie eyes flutter shut, shes boneless in your arms, completely undone by the sensation cursing thru her body you just gave her.

Her breaths are still short and heavy. Her head is still a bit hazy, but theres a sweet smile on her face. Her eyes are hazy as she looks at you with nothing but pure love in her eyes. She brings you into a kiss and moans when she can taste herself on you.

You two cuddled under the blanket for the remaining time you got left before you have to meet the others. Lottie couldnt stop giving you kisses. She either was kissing your face or your neck, snuggling closer to you.

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Authors note (or whatever its called)

like i said up there, im leaving it here so i can delete it and pretend i never made this when i was in my silly mood as i was listening southbound, its a shit, not even good. I will not try again, i promise, i am sticking with cutesy platonic things (max kissing, i admit defeat im not good at writing smuts and i will not try again you have my word) and my sad bullshits such as (un)lucky and the upcoming one thats marinating in drafts since february.

only reason why i posted it, is bcs i know someone will like it and i felt guilty to delete it (i was tempted to fr delete it because i felt and still FEEL ashamed i wrote this) so anyways hope you enjoyed this shit ✋🏻😭

[ameriize]

I LOVE UR SUB ANTON FIC OMGGG FINALLY A DOM READER WRITER😭🤧

cld i pls req lightweight anton who drank too much while out w his frnds after an argument and he comes home drunk needy and sad so reader has to help😉him😉out😉 and comfort him cuz hes crying hehehehehhehej

IKKK RIGHT, I LITERALLY ONLY STARTED WRITING BC THERES BARELY ANY RIIZE DOM READER like damnn i’ll do it myself

i got a little carried away so it’s abit long apologies😛

also if you send an ask and you wanna be an anon with an emoji, add that in your ask !! i wanna be able to recognise you guys 🥹🥹

you and anton don’t usually argue. if there’s conflict, you both take time to yourselves them come back to discuss and fix. however, this time was different.

you’re not sure why you were so emotional this week, maybe because it had all been building up, but for the fifth time this week anton had forgotten to text you back. multiple conversations just left unfinished. you understand he’s busy but sending a text to tell you that would be better. you’ve brought it up in the past and he says the same low-effort statement of “i’ll get better baby i promise”

well he hadn’t. so you blew up on him after he came back home from work. a heated argument struck up between you two, with you raising your voice and him rolling his eyes and sighing at you. you told him not changing is a sign of not caring for your partner and he responded with telling you you’re overreacting.

one thing led to another, and he grabbed his keys and headed out, saying “i’m gonna go meet my friends. use this time to calm down baby because i’m not dealing with you right now. it’s too much”

it’s too much?? is he saying you’re too much?

the sadness and frustration that was bubbling up in you was better dealt with sleep.

however you couldn’t sleep. not when he hadn’t come home for 4 hours. it’s almost midnight and you were getting worried. he wasn’t picking up any of your calls which he never does. you were pacing up and down your living room trying to figure out what to do next.

just as you were about to dial the police to order a search party, you hear keys jangling in the main door.

you stand up, and walk towards the door to see a red faced, teary eyed anton, who was stumbling and swaying side to side whilst trying to walk in. you hurriedly walked over to him and quickly placed his arm around your neck, ignoring his strong smell of booze, and tried to help him settle down on the couch, but he grabbed you aswell. you both landed down and anton readjusted to lay on your chest, sticking to you like glue.

he’d been babbling about how he was sorry, sorry he hurt you, sorry he made you feel unloved, uncared for. tears were strolling down his face and landing on your chest. good thing your silk nightgown had a low cut neck.

“baby please forgive me. please. all i want is you. i never meant to hurt you. baby i love you so much. i’m so sorry”

“tonnie hey it’s okay it’s okay , i said stupid things too i’m sorry aswell. i’m just happy you’re okay my love”

you gently cupped his face, wiping his tears away. he looked so cute with a red flush on his cheeks, and his teary puffy eyes.

you gave him a peck on his eyes and then worked your way to his lips. you noticed he was being more responsive than usual when he’s drunk. he was shifting around a lot more and letting out more small whines as you kissed him.

“thank you baby thank you. i just- i just needed you so bad. all i could think of was you when i was out. i only wanted to be next to you.”

“aww tonnie you needed me?”

“yea, so bad. so so bad. i just wanted to feel you. just wanted you to have your hands on me.”

you forgot how needy he gets when he’s drunk.

“oh? where on you?”, you said, deciding to play along.

he buried his head deeper in your chest and shyly moved your hand closer to his dick, that was now stiff and throbbing.

“here. i needed you here. fuck please touch me baby please”

“i don’t know… you were pretty mean to me earlier?”

he whined at this and raised his head to look at you. tears threatened to fall from his eyes, barely hanging on by a thread.

“i’m so sorry baby please. i didn’t mean all that i said. i’m sorry please forgive me. i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

now you had no choice but to take pity on him and comfort his poor self. i mean his dick was throbbing and pulsating so much for you.

you moved your hand past his trousers onto his boxers and began palming and squeezing his whole length, lightly but enough for him to feel it.

“ahhh!! fuck, yes!”

he started bucking up into your hand, desperate for more. after some minutes, he removed his trousers and boxers, per your request, and straightened his back on the couch. while maintaining eye contact, you straddled his legs and continued palming his dick.

but it wasn’t enough for him.

“shit shit baby please let me be inside. i need more. i need you”

you weren’t sure if you wanted him to wait and get even more desperate or fuck the life out of him. but he was so sad and remorseful, how couldn’t you side with the latter option?

you lifted up your nightgown then drew your lace panties to the side. anton watched you mesmerisingly, like you were the sun. he wanted nothing more than for you to bounce up and down his dick, making him take everything you give him. and you would do just that.

you hovered your cunt over his pulsing red hot tip and dragged his dick across but never putting it in. you could see him starting to get more restless, with whines and pleas leaving his mouth. then you finally inserted it in, and slowly sunk down on his whole length.

“ohhhhh fuck.” he moaned, eyes rolling back.

you begun to move, grinding back and forth, so slowly. it was agonising for him.

“please move my love. fuck i need you to fuck me faster baby please”, he whined, tears once again threatening to fall.

you decided you’ve tortured him long enough so you started moving, slamming yourself down with every movement. strings of delicious moans, whimpers, “yes”s and “fuck fuck fuck”s , fell out of his mouth. you felt so fucking good and anton wasn’t sure if he could hold it any longer.

“baby i’m close i’m so fucking close. please can i cum?”

“no. not yet. hold it for me like a good boy okay?” you said in his ear, then you dragged your tongue up his ear. he shivered and whimpered, and whined, “please baby. i can’t hold it anymore, i really can’t! it’s too much, it feels too good!”

“don’t you wanna be good for me?”

fuck yes he does. he always wants to be good for you.

“yes yes yes i do. i’m your good boy.”

“good. so then wait and take it.”, you said, authoritatively but still in a soft tone. you placed your hand over his mouth and started roughly riding him, making his dick hit that spot that felt like heaven.

anton swore he could see stars. the stimulation was too much, and his dick was about to explode. muffled, high pitched moans - borderline screams at this point - filled the air, as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“fuck”, you moaned, “anton i want you to cum with me. okay baby?”

he nodded his head rapidly, praying and begging for you to cum all over his dick already. you removed your hand from his mouth and placed it in his hair, grabbing a few locks. he shuddered at this.

“i’m cumming, tonnie! cum inside me!”

“fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkk!”, he whined, with his eyes rolled back in his head, back arching off the couch as he shot his hot load inside you, filling you all the way up.

you both came down from your high, chest heaving. he kissed you softly, hand cupping your face.

“thank you baby”, he whispered.

you hummed in return and just as you were about to get off him, he stopped you.

“let’s just stay like this. i don’t wanna be away from you.”, he said sincerely, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes.

you laid your head against his chest and snuggled in.

“i really am sorry for earlier. i should’ve never left, and i should’ve never hurt you in the first place. you know i love you right?”

“yeah, i know anton.”, you said with a smile.

a/n : hope that you like it anon !! not sure if it’s how you wanted it to be so, sorry for that :( also send in asks plssssssss and let me know what you think🙏

[beiibeiii]

under your spell

vampire!arlecchino x f!reader wlw smut

cw : smut, reader gets drunk and passes out lol, dream manipulation, arlecchino eats you out like theres no tomorrow, reader gets dizzy from lack of blood, arle is a little possessive, kinda non-consensual..

halloween special, apart of @edgeray halloween event :)

guess whos back lol, sorry if my quality of writing has gone down a bit, i haven't written properly in a while, not really proofread

art creds: vyphorium on X

it was finally the night of halloween. students from all over the campus had been invited to this halloween party. you knew arlecchino was never fond of parties, and was usually busy anyways, but when you said you were going, suddenly her scehdule cleared and she was interested in going.

arlecchino and you both shared a dorm so you met up in front of the front door. arlecchino stands around a head taller than you, making you raise your head to look up at her, making eye contact. god, she looked so dangerous yet so, so enticing. she was 'dressed' as a vampire. wearing a beautiful white ruffle blouse with ruffled sleeves, a elegant black, patterned waistcoat, along with black slacks and leather boots. she wore a long, silver cross necklace, a pretty dark red rose on her chest with blood stained down her shirt.

"beautiful, as always." she mutters under her breath. you catch a glimpse of her sharp fangs, glimmering under the dim light. you feel her red, crossed pupils glow in the light as her eyes peer all over, up and down, your body. your dressed in a beautiful, backless, black lacey dress, ending halfway down your thighs. the black lace makes your skin slightly visible. god, the way your dress clung onto your body outlined your beautiful waist so perfectly. your wearing cute, fluffy black cat ears that sit on the top of your head along with ankle high boots and a black collar to complete the outfit.

you smile sweetly at her, feeling heat run up your cheeks.. you feel all shy and nervous at her remark. were you always so nervous around your own roommate? "you look so handsome." you compliment her sweetly. your mouth curls up into a cute smile. arlecchino returns the favour, smiling back at you, her fangs fully visible now. they looked so real, but you knew they were fake fangs though, right?

"lets get going then." she muses lowly. arlecchino walks you with a hand around your waist, protectively, to the dorm where the party had been set. she knocks on the door firmly. it isn't long before the door is opened up quickly. there were crowds of people, dressed up, everywhere. arlecchino's eyes scan over the surroundings, taking in the sight of the chaotic looking party. she doesnt seem enthusiastic about being here, at all. she would never admit it, but she just wanted to come to keep you close.

before you knew it, tartaglia spotted you two in the doorway, hauling you and arlecchino into the crowd of people immediately. the three of you meet up with signora and scaramouche. you are all around a small table, drinking and taking shots, having conversations and laughing together.

there were lots of eyes on you and arlecchino knew it. she could see how they'd look at your lips and your body. the way your dress looked on you wasn't helping too. fuck, arlecchino would rip their necks off right now if she could. you were just so, so oblivious to even notice them eye fucking you. occasionally arlecchino would glance at you in the corner of her eyes, keeping a close eye on you if you strayed too far.

you'd watch arlecchino skip out on vodka and beer, deciding to go for.. a dark red wine? almost like blood. it looked quite thick, it's lightly stain the glass and her lips too. a contrast to her pale skin, making her look more like an vampire. arlecchino didn't seem to be getting drunk at all, she did have high alcohol tolerance after all. ah.. your thinking too much about it, maybe it was the alcohol getting to your head.

tartaglia starts slurring out recent gossip on campus. how, for the past 2 weeks, it was rumoured that vampires going around, sucking students blood at night and leaving marks as evidence. signora scoffs, rolling her eyes, stating how it was probably their classmates pranking each other. arlecchino grimaces slightly at his words, her 'faux' fangs showing again. they looked so real.. but there was no way arlecchino was a vampire.. right?

it wasn't long before you started getting drunk, your mind started spinning and all sounds started getting distorted. your words would slur and you'd sway to the left and right in your seat. getting all mumbly and sloppy with your movements. arlecchino lets out a light, breathy sigh at your state, wrapping her arm around your hip, once more, firmly.

"do you think vampires are real too, arle..?" you lazily slur, your half lidded eyes gazing up into her piercing ones.

god, you were just adorable. the way blood rushed to your cheeks made arlecchino go absolutely crazy. she couldn't hold her temptations back and longer. the only thing running through her mind was imagining how your blood would taste, how it'd run down her lips and drip onto her tongue..

a eyebrow cocks up at your question. her eyes narrow lightly as she leans in closer to you. mumbling into your ear, so your intoxicated self could hear her over the music. "what makes you think vampires aren't real, my dear?" arlecchino's tone is dangerous, almost inviting. her fangs graze over your ear lightly. the faint sharpness makes flinch slightly, pulling away a little as you push her face away from you.

"stop trying to tease me.." you whine, your words slurring. arlecchino sits up properly, chuckling lowly to herself.

"i think you've had enough to drink for tonight, it's getting late. we should head back." arlecchino states, her sharp gaze on you. her words dripping with caution. she needed you, now. you sloppily nod at her words, saying goodbye to everyone as she hauls you out the crowded party, keeping you close to her, with a hint possessiveness.

the door to your dorms was opened, arlecchino helps you in, taking you into your room and setting you down on the bed. you'd already passed on the short walk down the hallway to your dorms. your hair was fanned out across the bed. your cheeks were lightly dusted red from the alcohol consumed. your eyelids were shut with your soft, plump lips slightly parted. you looked so peaceful. so.. so fucking vulnerable.

she couldn't hold back her desires any longer. arlecchino shuts the door, the room being thrown into darkness. She walks over to the bed, looking down at your limp body. her eyes fixated on your neck, her fangs aching and her mouth watering at the sight. itching to get a taste of your sweet, delicate blood.

her fangs sink into your skin, draining your blood. she savours the first few drops of blood that she's able to pull from you. her eyes flutter closed as she hums against your neck. god you tasted so good, never had she had such.. divine blood like this on her tongue. she feels your head turn to the side, letting out a small whimper in your sleep. you must be having a good dream, right? she pulls away momentarily, admiring her work.

her eyes stay fixed on your neck now as the blood slowly trickles from the wound. the wound allures her, as if its asking for more. she leans in for more, making sure she doesn't wake you up. her tongue laps up at the wound on the side of your neck. the feeling of being able to taste you again made her feel dizzy with ecstasy. you were just so blissfully unaware, it turned her on so much more. her tongue brushes against the wound to stop any of it from spilling out. giving it one last long lick as blood stains her lips. she lifts her head to kiss you on the lips passionately.

your soft lips meet her blood-stained ones. arlecchino could hear your little sleepy hums against her lips. at the same time, arlecchino enters your dreams, manipulating it like vampires do.

your eyes fluttered open.. you felt so dazed. was this a dream? was arlecchino kissing you..? your neck aches though, you feel warm liquid drip down to your collarbone. you felt so dizzy from the alcohol in your system and from blood being drained from your neck. you didn't have the energy to move, what was happening?

you feel as she pulls away from the kiss. tasting your bitter, metallic blood. she sees how dazed and dazed you looked, it drives her crazy. her eyebrows pinched together as she starts to take your dress off. her movements firm, but not rough. her gaze was sharp and alluring.

"stay still for me. let me take care of everything." arlecchino mutters lowly, sliding your dress over your head.

you feel as if something controlled your mind. you stay still as she asked, you didn't resist her at all. she unclasps your bra, sliding it off to the side, your beautiful tits on for show, just for her. she sucks in a breath, her blood stained fangs visible between her lips. arlecchino leaves your cat ears on, thinking you look more adorable and vulnerable all for her.

she grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing them lightly. she wondered how your tits would taste too. you let out a soft moan. your head whips to the side. god you were so overwhelmed, all your senses heightened right now. she continues to fondle with your tits as she mutters under her breath.

"fuck.. so pretty for me."

her other hand dips down into your underwear, feeling your slick pool up underneath. you were so wet already. arlecchino lightly rubs on your clit, testing your sensitivity. you let out a whimper at her actions, your eyes fluttering closed. she rubs more firmly as her other hand leaves your tit and pulls your panties down. they're thrown off somewhere on the floor as she lowers herself. you cunt slicked up all for her. she couldn't wait to just eat you up.

you feel so desperate, so dizzy with pleasure. your hands find her way to her head, burying your fingers in her soft hair.

"hurry.." you whisper out softly, peering down at her with your voice hoarse. arlecchino knows better than to keep you waiting. she spits on your cut, making your breath hitch, before diving in immediately. allowing you to tug on her hair.

her tongue fucks your dripping cunt, savouring your delicious slick. god your warm walls felt so good against her tongue. your eyes roll back in pleasure, fuck she was so good. you moan loudly, your vision blurring, out of overstimulation.

arlecchino's hands keep your thighs open. she laps at your cunt like its the last thing she'd eat. absolutely devouring you. you nudge her deeper into your pussy, her nose bumps at your clit every so often. she was so messy. arlecchino would suck and slurp loudly, the filthy noises filing the room up. she keeps eye contact with you throughout the whole way. she mumbles against your wet cunt, made vibrations, making your thighs close around her head.

arlecchino eats you out with more fervour, absolutely devouring you. you feel that coil in your stomach start to form. your tugs on her hair and your moans drive her on more than anything. you were just so sensitive. you could barely get your words out.

"c-close..! mm..mpff..!" you moan out loudly.

your orgasmed hard all over her face, squirted your cum on her face. your thighs wrapped around her face. she laps your essence up like a dog, before pulling away with a smirk, her chin dripping with your cum. you go limp, trying to catch your breath. your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes are squeezed shut. you feel so dizzy, so fucking high. she leans into your neck. licking the blood that had run down from your wound. humming lowly in satisfaction. her hardness poking into your thigh.

"brace yourself.. i still need to savour your taste.."

[viviansturns]

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 - wc 8k+

...every time chris has ever fucked up and apologized

cw: angst, crying, begging, repeated toxic actions, extremely toxic relationship, totally unresolved, codependancy, mentions of alcohol, no physical abuse

a/n- hi guysss i'm putting this in the text of fic so you read it!! so this is for my 1,000 follower special! i've done a long fic before (here) so i decided to do another but this ones terribly sad!

it's important to note that i did this is a completely different writing style than mine, especially nearing the end, and I really don't know how much I like it. in addition, i reached the maximum number of "blocks" due to the absurd amount of enters, so theres a continuation to this post. anyways, enjoy! and i'm sorry in advance

Sorry for being a dick

The party is loud enough that you have to lean in to hear what your friend is saying, but you don’t really mind. You’re not even sure you wanted to come at first—it’s one of those crowded, slightly pretentious housewarmings where everyone brings craft beer or overpriced wine.

Still, you like the kitchen best. It’s bright and a little too small for the twelve-ish people squeezed in, the chatter bouncing off white cabinets and cheap tile.

You’re perched on the counter, boot heels knocking softly, drink in hand, laughing at something stupid your friend tells you about her boss. You feel loose, relaxed. You’ve even forgotten for a second that you don’t know most of these people.

That changes when he walks in.

He doesn’t exactly enter the room so much as commandeer it.

Tall. Broad. Annoyingly handsome in that way you can tell he knows. He’s talking to someone behind him, voice a little too loud over the music in the other room, eyes flicking around like he’s casing the joint.

He sees the group in the kitchen, and his gaze lands on you for a second too long before moving away again.

You notice.

“Who’s that?” you ask your friend in a hushed voice.

“Chris,” she mouths. “He’s... you know. He’s cool.”

Which apparently means handle with care.

You shrug. Not your problem.

Except he walks over anyway.

He leans against the counter next to you, beer dangling between his fingers, sizing you up in a quick, dismissive glance.

“What are you all talking about?” he asks, all casual arrogance.

“Hey Chris. My boss,” your friend says.

You smirk. “We’re also mocking ourselves for being fake adults. And I was saying I still write poetry sometimes.”

“Poetry?” he snorts. “Christ. That’s—pretentious as hell.”

It isn’t said playfully. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it. Just tosses it out there like a fact everyone would agree on.

The conversation dies for half a beat.

You blink, then let out a sharp little laugh that has no humor in it.

“Wow,” you say, tilting your head. “Didn’t realize I needed your permission to have a hobby.”

That gets his attention. His eyes snap to you, startled.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

For a second, he actually looks embarrassed.

“Shit,” he mutters. He straightens, rubbing the back of his neck. The air shifts—his arrogance deflating fast. “Okay. You’re right. That was... dickish. ’m sorry.”

You raise your eyebrows, a smirk tugging at your mouth despite yourself.

“That’s it? Dickish?”

He winces. “Super dickish.”

“Better.”

Silence stretches, filled with the muffled bass from the living room and the sound of someone laughing down the hall.

He huffs out a laugh, looking genuinely sheepish now.

“I really am sorry,” he adds, voice low enough that only you hear it.

You believe him. Which is stupid. You barely know him.

But he looks so uncomfortable.

You exhale, shoulders relaxing.

“Fine,” you say, smiling slow. “You’re forgiven.”

He blinks.

“That easy?”

You shrug, swirling your drink.

“I forgive way too easily. You’ll come to realize.”

His eyes lock on yours then, the apology softening into something else. He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t.

A silence falls between you that is surprisingly comfortable.

Finally, he clears his throat, suddenly awkward in a way that makes you bite back a laugh.

“Can I, uh—can I get you another drink? For being a pretentious asshole.”

You tap your glass thoughtfully.

“You can try,” you tease.

He grins—genuine this time—and holds out a hand for your cup.

You let him take it.

_______________

He disappears into the living room, leaving you with a flutter in your chest you’re definitely going to blame on the cheap wine.

Your friend gives you a knowing look.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the grin that creeps up.

“Shut up,” you mouth.

But you’re already looking at the doorway, waiting for him to come back.

Sorry for forgetting

You don’t really expect him to text you.

But you check your phone the entire next morning anyway.

Your friend teased you about it all the way home. “Oh my god, you like him.” Which is insulting, actually. You don’t like rude boys who say sorry too late.

Still, you left the party thinking about the way he’d looked when he realized he’d actually hurt you. The awkward apology. The hand rubbing the back of his neck. The real, messy way he’d said I’m sorry like he wasn’t used to saying it at all.

You shouldn’t care.

But you’re not immune.

So when his name finally lights up your screen, you have to bite back a smile before you even read the message.

Chris: hey. you around today?

You roll your eyes at the lack of capitalization.

You: Depends.

Chris: on?

You: On whether you’re gonna insult me again.

The typing bubbles appear. Vanish. Come back.

Chris: i was gonna try not to.

You laugh.

You: Fine. When?

Chris: like an hour?

You glance at the time. You’re not really free but it’s not like you have anything you can’t move.

Your thumb hovers.

You: Sure.

Chris: cool. i’ll let you know.

_______________

That’s how you find yourself sitting in the cramped back corner of your favorite coffee shop, half an hour later, pretending to read while checking the door every three seconds.

He’s late.

Not “five-minutes-traffic” late.

Twenty. Thirty.

You try not to care.

But you’re annoyed.

You check your phone. Nothing.

Finally, you toss your book onto the table and fish your phone out again, thumbs flying.

You: So was this the part where you show up or just leave me hanging?

You hit send. And immediately regret it.

It takes five minutes for the bubbles to appear.

Chris: fuck.

That’s all.

You scowl.

You: Oh my god.

A minute later, your phone rings.

You almost don’t pick up.

But you do.

“Hey.”

His voice is low, rougher than you remember.

“Hey,” you snap.

Silence.

“I’m… sorry.”

You snort. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I… I forgot.”

Your mouth twists. “You forgot.”

He exhales, sounding wrecked. “Yeah. I don’t have an excuse. I just… lost track and I didn’t remember.”

Silence stretches.

You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“You do realize that’s actually worse, right?”

He groans softly on the other end of the line. “Yeah. I know. That’s on me.”

Your shoulders drop.

You didn’t want a fight. You just didn’t want to feel stupid sitting here alone.

“I cleared time for you,” you say quietly.

He’s quiet too.

“I know.”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.

“I didn’t want to fuck it up,” he says finally.

You blink.

“Chris…”

“I know. Don’t say it. I’m an asshole. A coward. Whatever. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

You sigh. The coffee in front of you has gone cold.

“You did waste it,” you admit.

“I know.”

“But…”

You close your eyes.

“I forgive you.”

Silence.

He actually laughs—a short, disbelieving sound.

“Again?”

“Again,” you say. “But you’re running out of freebies.”

He hums, sounding a little relieved.

“I’ll pay you back for the coffee.”

“You will.”

“And I’ll actually show up next time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You better.”

Another beat of silence.

“Hey,” he says, voice suddenly softer. “Thanks. For… not hanging up.”

Your chest twists.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

He lets out a breath.

“I’ll try not to.”

You hang up first.

You don’t finish your coffee.

But you do leave the shop smiling a little anyway.

Because you didn’t want to like him.

But it’s hard not to like someone who doesn’t know how to be good at this, but tries anyway.

Even if he’s late.

Even if he’s an idiot.

Because he said sorry, and you believed him.

Which is probably your biggest mistake yet.

-

-

-

-

-

-

You’re dating now.

It still feels weird to say out loud.

Not because it doesn’t fit, but because somehow it snuck up on you.

You can’t even say when it happened exactly. One minute you were teasing him about flaking on coffee, the next you were making out in his car, both of you too proud to admit you’d been waiting for it.

It’s not perfect. Nothing about Chris is perfect.

But it feels like it. He’s magnetic in a way you can’t describe. You don’t think you could stop liking him if you tried

—-- 1 month later —---

Sorry, work was crazy…

Tonight, it’s supposed to be your night.

You planned it.

A small, no-pressure dinner at your place. Just pasta, garlic bread, and that movie you keep saying he has to see because you love it and you want him to love it too.

You even clean your tiny apartment. Real cleaning, too, not just shoving socks under the bed.

You light a candle. One. You’re not that desperate…

You’re actually a little nervous.

Which is stupid. He’s seen you at your worst. (hair a mess, drunk at 2 AM crying)

But tonight feels like a test somehow.

And then he’s late.

You tell yourself it’s no big deal.

You know he’s busy. He works stupid hours. You knew that before you kissed him, before you let him press you against his stupid car door and promise to do better.

So you wait.

And wait.

You text.

No answer.

You end up sitting cross-legged on your couch, cold pasta in a pot on the stove, arms folded over your chest.

You’re not angry. Not yet.

You’re hurt.

Which is worse.

___________

When he finally knocks, you think about not opening the door.

You do it anyway.

He’s there, hands shoved into his jacket, eyes tired, hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it all night.

He doesn’t look arrogant now.

He looks like someone who knows he fucked up.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You don’t move.

“Hi.”

He winces. “Can I come in?”

You hesitate.

Finally you step back.

He closes the door behind him carefully, like it might explode.

You don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Yeah?”

“I am,” he says. He actually sounds wrecked. “I lost track of time. Work was crazy. I meant to text you, but—”

You hold up a hand.

“I don’t want excuses.”

He flinches.

You sigh, pressing your fingers to your eyes.

“Chris, I don’t care if you’re busy. Just tell me.”

“I know,” he mutters.

“Seriously,” you say, voice shaking a little. “Do you know what it feels like to be sitting here like an idiot? Stirring pasta for someone who’s not coming?”

He grimaces, biting his lip.

“I do now.”

Silence stretches.

You can hear the candle burning.

“Say it again,” you whisper.

He looks up sharply.

“Say you’re sorry.”

He doesn’t even hesitate this time.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

Your chest tightens.

“Yeah.”

He steps forward cautiously, like he’s worried you’ll bolt.

“I don’t want to make you feel like that again.”

You sniff, blinking fast.

“You probably will,” you mutter.

He actually huffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I probably will.”

For a second neither of you says anything.

Then you let out a shaky breath.

“I saved you some pasta.”

He breaks.

Laughs, low and a little relieved.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get excited. It’s cold.”

He grins, eyes softening in that way that ruins you.

“Can I have some?”

You roll your eyes but turn to the stove.

He follows you, close enough that you feel the heat of him at your back.

When you set the pot on the counter, he slips his arms around your waist, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

You stiffen for a second.

Then relax.

Because he’s warm. And he’s here.

And because even if he’s bad at this, he’s trying.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

You sigh.

“I know.”

He kisses the side of your neck.

“Still like me?”

You snort.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles, mouth brushing your skin.

“I’ll take that.”

Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that

He’s got one arm around you, phone abandoned on the coffee table. You’re telling him about your latest project for work—except you’re excited. Animated.

You don’t even realize you’re babbling until you hear the edge of your own voice.

“So anyway, if this client approves the new pitch, it means I could actually lead the whole campaign, which would be insane. Like, it’s not that big of a company, but still—”

You’re cut off by his laugh.

Not a mean laugh. Just dismissive.

“Babe,” he says, squeezing your arm. “You’re really geeking out about this.”

You go still.

Your face warms.

“I’m… what?”

He raises an eyebrow, still smiling, oblivious.

“You’re geeking out. It’s cute, don’t get me wrong. Just—I don’t know, you’re acting like it’s some world-changing thing.”

You pull away a little.

“Wow.”

His grin falters.

“What?”

You set your jaw, swallowing back the stupid sting in your chest.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Hey.” He sits up straighter. “What?”

You shake your head.

“It’s just funny, I guess.”

He frowns. “What’s funny?”

“That you think it’s cute. Me caring about my job.”

He blinks, mouth opening and closing.

“That’s not—Jesus. That’s not what I meant.”

“Really? Because it sounded like ‘Aw, look at you pretending to be important.’”

His face falls.

You hate the way your throat tightens.

“It’s not pretending,” you add quietly.

He scrubs a hand over his face.

“Fuck. Okay. Wait. Hold on.”

You stand up, pushing off the blanket.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting water,” you mutter.

“Please don’t walk away. Can you—just. Listen to me?”

You freeze halfway to the kitchen.

Your fingers curl against your palm.

“Fine,” you bite out, not turning around.

He gets up too, crossing the tiny space between you.

“Look at me.”

You don’t.

He exhales sharply.

“Please.”

Slowly, you turn.

He looks miserable.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately.

You stare at him.

He lifts both hands, palms up, as if surrendering.

“I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean it like that. I was… fuck, I don’t know. Teasing? But it was stupid. And dismissive. And—just wrong.”

You cross your arms.

“It matters to me,” you say. Your voice cracks, which you hate.

He winces.

“I know.”

“It’s the one thing I’m proud of.”

He steps closer, carefully.

“I know,” he repeats, voice low.

He’s so close you can smell his cologne, can see the tiny scar on his eyebrow.

“I love that you care about it,” he says quietly. “That you’re… passionate. That you can talk about it for hours. It’s one of the reasons I fucking like you so much.”

Your breath catches.

He swallows hard.

“I’m sorry I made you feel stupid about it. That’s on me. It was careless.”

Silence stretches between you.

He waits.

And waits.

You sigh, deflating.

“You are an asshole,” you say.

He nods immediately.

“Certified.”

You try to glare at him. Fail.

Your mouth twitches instead.

He sees it.

“Forgive me?” he asks, voice small.

You roll your eyes.

“God, you’re pathetic.”

He grins.

You let your arms fall to your sides.

“Fine,” you mutter.

He steps in, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your hair.

You huff.

“I know.”

I’m Sorry I Didn’t Trust You

It’s one of those nights where you don’t expect anything to go wrong. That’s the worst part.

Because you’re actually happy when you get there—half-buzzed on cheap wine, buzzing from texts with Chris.

You’d invited him.

You told him about this gathering all week.

“Low-key,” you’d promised. Just friends from work and a couple of their partners. Nothing huge. Nothing to worry about…

He said he might come.

Didn’t promise, but you’d hoped.

So when he shows up halfway through the evening, you’re actually thrilled.

You spot him in the doorway, holding a six-pack, eyes scanning the room.

You wave.

You’re laughing when you do.

Because you’re in the middle of a story with Daniel—who’s literally your friend from work. Who’s engaged. Whose fiancé is in the kitchen.

Daniel had just made some dumb joke about your mutual boss’s hair transplant.

You’re giggling helplessly, cheeks flushed with cheap cabernet.

“Hey!” you call when Chris finally notices you. “You made it!”

But the second your eyes meet, you see it.

The way his jaw tightens.

The flash in his eyes.

Your heart sinks a little.

“Chris,” you say brightly, patting the couch cushion next to you. “Come sit—”

But he doesn’t.

He glances at Daniel. At your hand resting lightly on Daniel’s arm.

Your platonic friend.

And his face goes cold.

“Didn’t realize you were busy,” he says flatly.

You blink.

“Chris.”

Daniel gives a polite, awkward smile.

“Hey, man.”

Chris’s answering nod is so sharp it could cut glass.

You bristle.

“Sit down,” you try again.

“I’m good,” he mutters.

“Chris.”

He sets the six-pack down a little too hard on the coffee table.

“Didn’t know you had company.”

Your friend’s eyes widen.

You swallow.

“Daniel’s my friend,” you bite out.

Chris’s lip curls.

“Yeah. Looks real friendly.”

Silence slams into the room.

Daniel coughs.

“I’m gonna… refill my drink.” He escapes, shooting you an apologetic look.

You watch him go, then whip around to glare at Chris.

“Are you serious?”

Chris doesn’t back down.

“What? You two seemed cozy.”

You stand up so fast the blanket slides to the floor.

“Don’t you dare.”

He lifts his chin defiantly.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t accuse me of… whatever that was.”

He folds his arms, eyes hard.

“You tell me. You were laughing, touching him—”

“He’s my friend. And he’s engaged!”

Chris’s jaw works.

You see it, the way he wants to back down. But he doesn’t.

“Didn’t look like you remembered that.”

Your mouth falls open.

“That’s low. Even for you.”

“Maybe don’t act like you’re single, then.”

The words are quiet.

Mean.

You flinch.

It’s like getting slapped.

People are staring.

You feel your face burn.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, voice shaking.

He blinks.

You don’t wait.

You shove past him and storm toward the door.

You hear him mutter something, but you’re already outside, cold night air hitting your face like a wall.

Your eyes sting.

You’re furious.

Humiliated.

Hurt.

You don’t even know where you’re going, just that you have to move.

You make it half a block before you hear footsteps behind you.

“Wait!”

You don’t stop.

“Wait. Please.”

He catches up, grabbing your arm.

You spin, shoving him away.

“Don’t touch me,” you spit.

He recoils, hands up.

“Okay. Okay.”

You glare at him, breathing hard.

He’s pale in the streetlight.

“Chris, what the fuck was that?”

He swallows hard.

“Please. I’m sorry.”

You laugh, bitter.

“Sorry? You just called me a fucking cheater in front of my friends.”

He winces.

“I know.”

“You embarrassed me. You made me feel like—like shit. For laughing with someone.”

“I know.”

Your voice cracks.

“Why would you even think that about me?”

His face crumples.

“Because I’m an insecure piece of shit.”

You blink.

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging hard.

“I saw you with him and I just—snapped. I was jealous. Fuck. I hate that I’m like this.”

You clench your jaw.

“You didn’t trust me.”

“I know.”

He sounds wrecked.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice cracking. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Silence.

Your arms are wrapped tight around yourself.

You want to leave.

But you can’t.

Because he’s standing there looking like the ground just gave out beneath him.

“Look at me,” he pleads.

You do.

He steps closer, slowly.

“I trust you,” he says desperately. “I do. I just—sometimes I get scared I’m gonna lose you. And I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You swallow, throat raw.

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I know.”

“You can’t accuse me of shit because you’re scared.”

He nods rapidly.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll work on it. I swear.”

You’re quiet for a long time.

He waits.

Finally you whisper, “Say it again.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.”

Your eyes burn.

“I didn’t deserve that.”

He shakes his head.

“No. You didn’t.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t.”

“I won’t,” he repeats, voice breaking.

Silence.

You take a tiny step forward.

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t touch you without permission.

Finally, you sigh and collapse against his chest.

He wraps his arms around you so tight you can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair.

You close your eyes.

“I know,” you whisper back.

But you’re still angry.

I’m sorry I took it out on you

You know he’s had a long day.

You can tell from the moment you hear his keys hit the door.

It’s the way they don’t just jingle—they clatter.

You’re in the kitchen, barefoot, stirring something on the stove. The apartment smells like garlic and butter and the candle you lit an hour ago.

You want it to feel like home.

You want to be the good part of his day.

When the door swings open, you can hear him sigh.

Not relief, but exhaustion.

You peek over your shoulder.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just dumps his bag on the floor. Runs a hand over his face.

“Hi,” he mutters eventually, voice scratchy.

You swallow.

He looks… bad.

Hair a mess. Shirt wrinkled. Eyes shadowed.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, you smile gently.

“I made dinner.”

He snorts.

“Of course you did.”

You freeze.

The words are flat. Not grateful.

You stare at him, spoon paused over the pan.

“…Excuse me?”

He doesn’t look at you.

“Nothing.”

You set the spoon down carefully.

“No. Say it.”

He exhales, jaw clenching.

“Just—fuck. Can you not do this right now?”

Your stomach twists.

“Do what?”

He finally lifts his eyes to yours, and they’re sharp.

“This.” He gestures vaguely. “The whole perfect-girlfriend routine. Cooking. Candles. Acting like everything’s fucking fine.”

You go still.

Your throat tightens.

“I wasn’t… acting.”

He scoffs.

“Sure.”

Silence.

You can hear the pan sizzling.

Slowly, you turn off the burner.

You swallow hard.

“Okay.”

You walk past him toward the bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

You don’t answer.

“Where are you going?”

Your voice cracks.

“Anywhere you’re not.”

He flinches like you slapped him.

You don’t wait.

You shut the bedroom door behind you.

It’s not a slam.

But it’s final.

You sit on the edge of the bed, breathing hard, wiping at your eyes furiously.

You hate crying over this.

Over him.

You hear nothing for a while.

No footsteps.

No apology.

Just silence.

Your chest aches.

Of course. He won’t come.

He never—

The door creaks.

You look up sharply.

He’s standing there.

He doesn’t look angry now.

He looks wrecked.

His shoulders sag.

“Don’t,” you croak.

But he steps in anyway.

“Please.”

You turn your face away.

“Just—go away.”

He crosses the room in three strides.

He kneels in front of you, palms on your knees.

You try to shove him off.

He doesn’t let go.

“Look at me,” he says, voice raw.

You don’t.

“Please. Look at me.”

Slowly, shaking, you lift your eyes.

He’s pale.

Eyes glossy.

“Say it,” you whisper.

He swallows so hard you can hear it.

“I’m sorry.”

Your lip trembles.

He squeezes your knees gently.

“Say it better.”

He closes his eyes.

When he opens them, there’s nothing but desperation there.

“I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

Your breath catches.

He keeps going, voice cracking.

“I had a shit day. Everything went wrong. My boss was on my ass. I didn’t want to come home because I knew I’d just… ruin it. And I did.”

He lets out a choked laugh.

“I ruined it. Like I always fucking do.”

Your eyes burn.

He shakes his head, jaw clenched so tight you see the muscle twitch.

“You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

You sniff.

“No. I didn’t.”

He nods, tears welling.

“I know.”

Silence stretches between you.

Your hands are clenched in your lap.

Finally, carefully, he covers them with his.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean any of that. Not one word.”

You swallow.

“I just wanted you to be happy to see me,” you admit, voice tiny.

He breaks.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

He surges forward, arms wrapping around your waist, face pressing into your stomach.

You stay stiff for a moment.

Then your hands move.

They tangle in his hair.

He shudders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your shirt. Over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightens.

“I know.”

He doesn’t move.

He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

You stay like that for a long time.

Silent.

Breathing.

Trying to forgive him.

I’m sorry I shut you out

It starts small.

A text left on read.

No big deal. He’s busy.

You tell yourself that the first day.

By the second, your stomach’s twisting a little when you check your phone.

He’s not ignoring you exactly.

He answers.

Short.

Flat.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Fine.”

“Want to hang out tonight?”

“Can’t. Busy.”

No smiley faces. No jokes. No “I miss you.”

Just… silence.

You’re used to him being hot and cold.

But this feels different.

It feels like talking to a wall.

_____________

On the third day, you call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

You don’t cry.

Not yet.

Instead you show up at his door.

It’s late. You know he’s home because his lights are on.

You knock.

Nothing.

You knock again, harder.

Finally, the door creaks open.

He peers out, looking wrecked.

Eyes red-rimmed.

Like he hasn’t slept.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He doesn’t answer.

Just steps back and lets you in.

The place is dark.

Messy.

You stand in the middle of his living room, arms folded tight over your chest.

“Chris.”

He sinks onto the couch.

Elbows on knees. Head in hands.

You wait.

He doesn’t look at you.

You swallow hard.

“Talk to me.”

Nothing.

Your voice cracks.

“Please talk to me.”

He drags his hands down his face.

“Don’t,” he mutters.

“Don’t what?”

He lifts his head finally.

Eyes glassy.

“Don’t try to fix me tonight. I can’t do it.”

Your heart lurches.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you whisper.

He huffs a bitter laugh.

“Sure.”

You blink fast, willing tears not to fall.

“You’re shutting me out.”

He flinches.

“You know you are.”

Silence.

You step closer.

“I don’t need you to be perfect,” you say carefully. “I just need you to let me in.”

He shakes his head.

“You don’t want in here,” he says, voice breaking.

You go very still.

“Try me.”

He swallows hard.

Then he breaks.

“I’m scared,” he rasps.

Your breath catches.

“Of what?”

He lets out a choked laugh.

“Of this. Of you. Of fucking it all up.”

You exhale slowly.

“Chris…”

He grips the back of his neck.

“I don’t know how to do this. Be good at this. Every time I think I am, I fuck it up. I say something shitty or push you away or… I don’t know.”

He wipes at his eyes roughly.

“I don’t want you to see me like this. Like some fucking mess.”

You move before he can stop you.

You sit beside him and pull his hands from his face.

He resists for a second.

Then gives up.

Your fingers wrap around his.

“Hey,” you whisper.

He won’t look at you.

You squeeze his hands tighter.

“Look at me.”

Finally, he does.

Broken.

You blink back tears.

“Do you think I’m here because you’re perfect?”

He huffs a miserable sound.

“Do you?” you demand.

He shakes his head.

“Then stop shutting me out,” you whisper fiercely.

Silence.

He breathes hard, chest rising and falling.

Finally, voice wrecked:

“I’m sorry.”

You squeeze his hands tighter.

“Say it better.”

He blinks, tears threatening to spill.

“I’m sorry I shut you out.”

Your throat tightens.

“I hate when you do that,” you whisper.

He nods rapidly.

“I know.”

You sniff, tears falling now.

“I don’t want to be on the outside.”

He swallows.

“You’re not.”

“It felt like it.”

“I know,” he chokes.

Silence.

You let go of his hands only to wrap your arms around his neck.

He freezes.

Then melts.

Buries his face in your shoulder.

Breathing ragged.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair.

You nod against him.

“I know.”

You feel his arms wrap tight around you.

Desperate.

Needing.

You hold him just as hard.

Neither of you says anything else.

But you both know this isn’t fixed.

Not really.

You’re just holding the pieces together.

I’m so sorry I wanted to hurt you

It starts over the dishes.

You can’t even believe it later.

But that’s all it is.

A sink full of plates and mugs and silverware that smell like old takeout.

You’re tired.

He’s tired.

You’ve both had long days.

You’re the one who says it first.

“Can you please help me clean up?”

Your voice is gentle. Careful.

But he’s sitting on the couch scrolling his phone.

He doesn’t even look up.

“Do it later.”

Your jaw tenses.

“I don’t want to do it later. It’ll be worse.”

He sighs—exaggerated, rolling his eyes.

“Jesus. It’s fucking dishes.”

You feel something snap.

“You said you’d help.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired,” he bites out.

“So am I,” you say, voice sharp.

He finally looks at you.

Eyes cold.

“Why are you always on my ass about this shit?”

Your mouth falls open.

“My ass? Chris, I just want you to keep one promise. Help with one thing.”

He snorts.

“Oh, one thing? Fucking hilarious.”

Your chest tightens.

“Don’t.”

But he’s not stopping.

He stands up.

“Here we go. The fucking lecture.”

You throw the dish towel down.

“Because you don’t listen!”

“Because you won’t shut the fuck up!”

Silence slams down.

You both freeze.

You blink rapidly.

Your lip trembles.

His chest heaves.

He doesn’t back down.

“Seriously,” he sneers. “It’s always something with you. Always needing me to do this, do that. You’re so fucking needy.”

You feel the tears immediately.

You try to swallow them back.

He sees.

He sees and he keeps going.

“God, it’s pathetic,” he spits.

You flinch.

He sees it.

He knows.

But he doesn’t stop.

“You act like I’d fucking fall apart without you. You think you’re so goddamn important.”

Your vision blurs.

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he’s shaking.

Voice rising.

“Maybe I’m sick of feeling like a fucking project you’re trying to fix. Like I’m some loser you can save.”

You gasp, choking on a sob.

He freezes.

It’s silent except for your breathing, ragged and wet.

You see his face crumple.

“Wait.”

You take a step back.

“Don’t.”

“Wait—fuck. Wait.”

Your voice cracks.

“Get out.”

He flinches.

You’re crying in earnest now.

“Get out. Get out get out get out—”

He doesn’t move.

He’s shaking too.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Get out!”

He drops to his knees.

Your eyes go wide.

He’s on the fucking floor, palms flat, head hanging.

“I didn’t mean it,” he sobs.

You hiccup.

He sounds broken.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes.

You try to back away, but he scrambles forward, grabbing your legs.

“Please.”

You push at his shoulders.

“Stop it—Chris—stop—”

He clings harder.

“I’m sorry. I wanted you to feel small because I felt small. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You can’t even see through your tears.

He’s crying too.

Loud. Ugly.

He presses his face to your stomach, sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your shirt. “I’m sorry I wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry.”

Your hands hover over his head.

Shaking.

You want to hit him.

You want to hold him.

You do neither.

You just stand there, crying, as he clings to you and begs like his life depends on it.

“Please,” he sobs. “Please don’t leave me.”

You close your eyes.

Your fingers twitch.

Finally, they sink into his hair.

He chokes on relief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

I’m sorry I cant be better

It starts quiet. Too quiet.

He’s been different lately. Not in the way that used to scare you—the shouting, the biting sarcasm.

This time it’s worse. He doesn’t shout at all. He doesn’t say much of anything.

You catch him reading something on his phone in bed. He closes it before you can see. You spot the dog-eared therapy book on the table, spine cracked, pen tucked inside with notes you’re not allowed to read. He goes. Every week. He even tells you. But he never talks about it.

It’s like he’s built walls you’re not allowed behind.

You’re lying on the couch together. Except you’re not together. He’s at one end. Staring at the ceiling.

You finally can’t take it. Your voice cracks when you speak.

“Do you even want this anymore?”

His head turns slowly. Brow furrowed like you’re speaking another language.

You swallow hard. “This. Us. Because if you don’t, just tell me.”

He blinks. “You think I don’t want you?”

You huff, eyes stinging. “I don’t know what you want. You won’t let me in. You don’t laugh, you don’t fight, you don’t—”

You stop. Breathing hard.

He’s silent. Eyes flickering. Like he’s fighting with himself.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

“I’m trying,” he says finally.

Your chest squeezes. “I know.”

“But I’m… fuck.” He sits up. Rubs both hands over his face. “I’m scared if I don’t try I’ll hurt you. So I’m trying to… not feel anything.”

Your lip trembles. “Chris.”

He drops his hands. He looks so small. So young. So tired.

His voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, blinking away tears. “That’s not enough anymore.”

He lets out a wet, hopeless laugh. “I know.”

Silence.

He sniffs hard. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.”

You exhale shakily. “Look at me.”

He does. Eyes red.

“You don’t have to be better. You just have to be here.”

He nods like he understands, but you see the fear in his eyes.

You crawl across the couch, pressing your forehead to his. He doesn’t kiss you. Doesn’t touch you.

He just breathes you in. Shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

You close your eyes. “I know.”

I’m so fucking sorry.

It’s late when he shows up. You’re already in pajamas, teeth brushed, trying not to cry. He’s been at “work” for hours later than he should be.

You open the door anyway. He’s standing there swaying, hair a mess, eyes red.

He reeks of cheap liquor.

“Hey,” he rasps.

You stare. Say nothing.

He runs a hand through his hair, looking everywhere but you. “Can I come in?”

Your throat works. “Why.”

He flinches at your voice. “Please.”

You don’t move. He steps forward anyway, close enough you can smell the sweat and alcohol. Close enough you see it on his face.

Something dead in his eyes.

Your voice cracks. “Chris. What did you do.”

He breaks. Shoulders shaking. He chokes on it. “I’m sorry.”

You feel the floor tilt. Your hands tremble. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head violently. “I can’t. Fuck—I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

He covers his face. Muffled: “I fucked up.”

Your stomach lurches. “Chris.”

Silence. He won’t look at you.

Your voice is a whisper. “Did you sleep with her?”

He makes this awful, broken noise in his throat.

You feel your heart stop.

“Answer me.”

He finally lifts his head. Eyes glassy, tears streaking down his cheeks. He nods once.

You can’t breathe.

He sobs. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, backing away like he’s poison. “Get out.”

He steps forward, desperate. “No—please—”

“Get out.”

He drops to his knees. Your vision blurs.

“Don’t do this,” he begs. Voice wrecked. “Please. I didn’t mean it. I was drunk—I was so fucking lonely—I didn’t want her I just—I just wanted to feel something.”

You cover your mouth with your hand. He claws at your leg.

“Please look at me.”

You can’t. You’re crying so hard you can’t see.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m sorry I did this. I’m sorry I broke us. I’m sorry I’m so fucking weak. I’m sorry I ruined everything good in my life.”

Your voice is raw. “You did. You ruined it.”

He chokes. “I know.”

“You ruined me.”

He collapses against your legs, face buried in your thigh, crying like a child. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You try to shove him off but he clings tighter. Begging. Mumbling.

“I’m sorry I broke us. I’m sorry I broke you. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me.”

You finally wrench free. You stumble back, gasping. Sobbing.

“Get out,” you scream.

He flinches. Truly sobbing now.

“I love you,” he chokes.

Your heart splinters. “Get out,” you whisper, voice dead.

He stares at you like he’ll die if you say it again. But you just stand there shaking.

Finally he stands. Sways.

You watch him stagger to the door. He turns back one last time. Tears streaming. Voice shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You slam the door in his face.

Then you sink to the floor and scream as hard as your lungs will allow you.

—- 1 month later —---

You sit at the edge of the couch, knees bouncing.

He’s across from you, elbows on his thighs, head bowed.

Silence.

Your throat is raw from crying for hours before he even got here.

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t dare.

Your voice cracks. “Say it.”

He flinches.

“Say what you did.”

He swallows hard. “...I cheated on you.”

Your eyes burn. Your nails bite into your palms. “Why.”

He chokes. “Because I’m fucking broken. Because I hated myself. Because I wanted to hurt me more than I hurt you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Congratulations,” you rasp. “You did.”

He sobs once. “I know.”

Silence.

Your voice is dead. “Why are you here.”

He finally lifts his head. Eyes ruined. “To tell you I’m sorry.”

You breathe. Shaky. He waits.

“You think that fixes it?”

He shakes his head violently. “No.”

Silence.

Your jaw trembles. “I hate you.”

He nods, tears falling. “I know.”

You sniff. Your voice breaks. “I don’t want to.”

That shatters him.

He cries for real. Ugly. Loud.

You lean forward, grabbing his shaking hands. He startles like he’s been burned.

“Look at me.”

He does.

Your voice is shredded. “I forgive you.”

He chokes on it. “No.”

“I forgive you,” you repeat, voice rising. Angry. Sobbing. “I forgive you, okay? I fucking forgive you.”

He sobs so hard he can’t breathe. Collapses forward onto your lap.

You card your fingers through his hair. Both of you crying.

But you whisper, so quiet he almost misses it: “But I don’t know if I can ever love you the same way.”

He clutches you harder. “I know,” he sobs. “I know. I’ll take anything. I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

>> continuation (sorry, tumblr only allows 1000 blocks per post and i'm trying this goofy ass writing style)

[gingersxng]

Metal Attraction

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi x Yunho

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: Mingi and Yunho finds out the innocent looking hot girl isn’t as innocent as she looks..

Notes: sub!reader, dom!yungi, reader is a virgin, bigdick!yungi, reader has tattoos & piercings (tongue, nipples & clitoris), Mingi has tattoos and piercings (eyebrow, labret, PA, nipple & thick horseshoe earrings), loneliness, making out, nipple/breast play, bigperv!yunho, horndog!mingi, cursing, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (DONT), one slap, threesome, double penetration, stomach & throat bulge, deep throating, swallowing, fingering, spitting, trading body fluids, petnames (honey, little one, peaches, good girl), they call reader slut/cumslut, cum cum cum, degrading, Mingi goes too far, bickering, overstimulation. May have forgot something!

Words: 3.5k

Mingi, Yunho and you bumped into each other a few months ago at a boring party held by some people in your school. You were the black sheep in your friend group which lead to them abandoning you in that club filled with smoke and drunk collage students. Sitting by yourself in a corner sighing to yourself you were met by two tall guys standing in front of you, their giant bodies made you feel so small and vulnerable. “Hey little one, why looking so scared?” one of the boys said chuckling while he glanced at his bigger friend. You quickly relaxed your shoulders trying to look like they didn’t make you uncomfortable. “I’m not scared.. I just got surprised that’s all” you defended yourself. You obviously knew them, they did their last year in collage and you did your first.

They were always together no matter what, you wouldn’t be surprised if they even went to the bathroom together.. they had kinda similar but yet different looks, the older of them Yunho, had kind of a “good boy” nerdy style while Mingi had more of a “punk/badboy” style. All the pretty girls in your class always drooled over the duo and they surely enjoyed the attention they got, Mingi with the black spiky hair, tattoos and piercings and Yunho with the clean look, not a thing on his body. Despite having such different aesthetics they had one thing in common…SEX.

“Mind if we join you?” Mingi asked as he pointed at the empty seats. What would they want with you? They’d never talked to you before, sure you’ve been met with a smirk or a wink in the hallways but this.. “Sure, don’t think I’ll be here for too long tho” you said taking a sip of your drink. “We were thinking the same thing, right Yunho” the younger gave the older a dark glare. Mingi put his arm around you giving your shoulder a squeeze, Yunhos hand rested on your bare tattooed thigh, he traced a finger along the outline of a rose tattoo smirking to himself.

You were the perfect girl for them, you always thought they wanted the “clean” and “pretty” girl since they got so much attention from them but you may have been wrong all this time. They loved themselves a lonely, messed up girl with tattoos and piercings. By the looks of it they knew you must’ve had a traumatic childhood of some sort based on you looks, Mingi would know since he’s on the same train. Yunho btw just got dragged into this mess when he met Mingi in high school and got addicted straight away. “Why are you even spending your time with me?” you asked, looking at the big guys which sat very close on each side of you. “Guess three times?” Mingi said looking at you. With all the music and noise around you it took some time for your tired mind to catch up with what Mingi meant. After a couple of seconds it finally clicked.. your eyes widened, you covered your mouth with a shocked expression. Both of them smirked at you but didn’t say anything, you shook your head in neglect not believing what they had in mind.

Mingi grabbed one of your wrists and Yunho the other one, they placed each hand on their crotches for you to feel how hard they already were. They must’ve planned this cause theres no way they could get this worked up from the small talk you just had. “Y-you wanna…?” You whispered to Mingi looking him in the eyes with big puppy eyes. That sure did something to him, you could literally feel him twitch in his pants, a low groan came from his chest and he nodded slowly to give you an answer to the question. Yunho pressed your hand harder down on his clothed dick and he leaned in to your ear. “We just couldn’t resist a hot and sexy girl sitting all alone” he whispered, tracing his tongue along your earlobe. You gave it a quick thought, it was a big choice for you since you still were a virgin… but you couldn’t tell them that, by the way they’re talking they must think you’ve been fucked by lots of guys. “Well, I guess anything’s better than being here right” you said looking at both of them with a smirk. Your top had ride up a bit revealing a panther tattoo on the small of your back, Mingis eyes widened and he felt how his cock was about to explode, he licked his lips as he stared at your ass. Yunho gave him a light smack. “Fuck” “You guys coming or should I maybe fuck myself?” You looked down at the two giants, they flew up from their seats and followed you out.

When you reached the empty hallways you got slammed to the wall full force by Mingi, he attacked your lips and locked your arms above your head. You soon gave in and opened your mouth to let his tongue inside. Mingi opened his eyes when he felt the metal ball on your tongue, he went rougher on your mouth and closed the gap between your bodies pressing his hips against your lower abdomen. “You’re so fucking hot, just perfect” Mingi groaned as he bucked up his hips. Your only response was to moan from the friction of his dick poking you.

Yunho slid his hand under your top and undid your bra, you gasped and pulled away to look at him but Mingi was quick to put you back in your place. Yunhos slender fingers reached your nipples and he couldn’t believe what he felt, a low “fuck” escaped his veiny throat as he played with the metal bars going through your buds. “She has nipple piercings too Mingi, such a dirty girl” he pinched your nipple making you jolt. You couldn’t help but blush at his comment, Mingi pulled away from your lips and joined Yunho pulling your bra and top up to reveal your breasts, they were both playing with your hardened nipples. The cold metal buds added more pleasure to you, you closed your eyes trying to hold in your moans. Mingi worked his way down onto his knees, he looked up at you with lustful eyes and brought his hands to your skirt. “What else are you hiding from us peaches?” His voice roared in his throat as he slowly lifted your skirt. There was something small poking the fabric of your panties, Mingi swore he was about to cum on the spot seeing what was in front of him. A thread of curses left his mouth, he was about to rip of the small piece of fabric off you but Yunho stopped him. “Better take her downstairs before someone walks in on us, don’t wanna experience that again right” he said trough gritted teeth as he glared down at his pincushion friend. Mingi bit down on his labret ring in frustration, he brushed his hand over your clit before standing up again. You whined when they stopped their actions on you, you took off your bra and tossed it on the ground pulling your top back on. Hearing footsteps and laughter coming your way the boys hurried to get you all out of here.

Mingi lifted you up in his arms and Yunho picked up your bra so there wouldn’t be any evidence, they took you downstairs to the basement where no one ever came by. It wasn’t much of a basement cause it only had one toilet but that wouldn’t stop them from getting into your panties.

Yunho opened the toilet door for Mingi and you to step inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it. Being locked into such small place with these two hot guys was so exciting, all you wanted was to get fucked real good and messy but at the same time something also scared you to not know what it would feel like. Mingi sat down on the toilet seat with you straddling him, your back was pressed against his chest. The feeling of his what you now imagined “big dick” poked you right where you wanted him.

“Gotta be a good girl for us honey, huh?” Yunho placed his hand on your cheek rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Yes, I’ll be your good girl. Always” you spreaded your legs apart and lifted your skirt to invite him between your legs. Yunhos pants got painfully tight around his crotch as he stared at your panties which now were stained with your wetness.

Mingi kissed your neck and shoulders while Yunho got down on his knees between your legs, he didn’t hesitate to pull your panties to the side to reveal your pretty pierced pussy. He was toying a bit with your clit before placing his tongue between your wet folds, he held your legs spread apart to make it a bit more painful for you. Mingi was yet back to play with your tits and nipples, turning desperate he started humping you from underneath to get some kind of friction. Your breathing became heavier as Yunhos tongue penetrated your hole, his big nose brushed against your clit piercing just perfect. “Fuck hurry Yunho I can’t hold it in much longer, I need to fuck” Mingi complained to his friend who was happily eating you out. Yunho gave Mingi the middle finger, head still buried between your legs.

“Ah f-fuck Yunho don’t stop, it feels so good” you moaned out, your hand flew up to Mingis hair. These first couple minutes felt like heaven, sure you’d made out with many guys before but never anything euphoric like this. Mingi lifted you up and away from Yunhos glistening face, you stood up and looked back at Mingi as a complaint. He quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down together with his boxers enough for his cock to spring free, it stood up right under your entrance dripping precum. Your assumptions about him having a big cock were more than right.. that boy was enormous, it was long and girthy and best of all it was pierced as well. Yunho rolled his eyes as he saw the expression on your face seeing the Prince Albert, just like all the girls they’d fucked.

“You’re not the only one with a secret peaches” Mingi helped you sink down onto his cock, the cold ring gave you chills as it penetrated your tight walls. His cock stretched you out making your eyes to roll back in your head. Mingi almost came as soon as he bottomed out. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m gonna cum if I move” he groaned. Yunho placed sloppy kisses on your inner thighs as his younger friend collected himself to finally being able to move. Seeing how he struggled, Yunho wanted to tease him a little so he placed a sharp slap on your thigh making you jump up. Mingi let out a painful groan when you clenched around him.

Yunho stood up and undid his pants too and he was almost as big as Mingi, not as girthy but so freaking veiny and long. Your mouth watered watching him stroke himself a couple times. “Open wide pretty little one” Yunho demanded you as he took a step forward, you took his length into your mouth making him throw his head back in pure pleasure. Your pierced tongue did wonders on his aching tip, you licked him from the base all the way to the head before taking him all the way down your throat.

Meanwhile Mingi had set a good pace that worked enough for him not to cum in one second. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your tits, your stomach and rubbing your swollen clit. Mingis big cock created a bulge on your stomach, you could see every move it did as it poked your cervix and the feeling of his cock piercing kissing your tight insides. The small space you were locked inside of was turning into a sex dungeon, the smell of sweat, sex and perfume lingered in the air.

Yunho placed his hands on your head pushing you further down his cock until you gagged on it and your mascara began to roll down your face. He held you down on his cock for a couple seconds and then let you go to get some air, then he did it again and again. As Yunho abused your poor throat Mingi abused your pussy, he fucked you like a starving man that got his first bite of food. His fingers kept toying with your clit and rubbed fast circles over your piercing and soft moans kept coming from you with each touch. Mingi grunted and moaned behind you like he was about to fall apart, he grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up from Yunhos cock only to place rough kisses and marks on your neck. Yunho growled at his friend raising a brow.

“Ah fuck let me cum inside you honey” Mingi said in a shaky breath. You clenched around him and dragged out yet another groan from him. “Fill me up Mingi” you answered as you pulled him in for a messy kiss. He slid inside you one last time and came to a halt pushing his cock inside as far as he could. His cock twitched and you felt warm strings of cum spurt inside you, loads of it. With his head thrown back and adams apple on display he looked so fucking hot moaning and cursing while emptying his big load inside you.

You looked down between your legs where you two were connected to see his cum pouring out and onto the toilet seat, you clenched around him yet another time wanting more. You grabbed Yunhos cock again and deep throated him, you bobbed your head along his dick like a pro. Yunho bit down on his bottomlip as he watched you take him deep down your throat, he grabbed your throat and pressed on it lightly. The feeling of his cock moving in your throat almost made him cum, he slowly began to fuck your mouth wanting release.

Mingi pushed your head down onto Yunhos dick further holding you there, a shit eating grin painted his face as he saw his friend almost losing it, one more time and Yunho came down your throat making you gag hard. Mingi let go of your head and both of them watched as the thick white fluids ran down your chin, your makeup was all ruined and you began to feel sick (it was your first time swallowing ofc). You burped and cleaned of the remaining cum off on your top.

“Are you alright there?” Yunho asked trying hard to sound like he really gave a damn. You gave him a little nod and smirked lightly up at him. “Such a good little girl” he purred. Yunhos arms came down fast to grab your body off of Mingis cock, a deep rumble left his chest at the quick loss of contact. Yunho slammed your body against the red wall making you whine, they were rough with you but even tho it hurt you couldn’t dare to say anything, after all you were having the night of your life.

Your arms were locked at your sides in a tight grip by Yunhos big hands, he pressed his forehead against yours and his wet dick against your swollen cunt. “You’re gonna continue behave like a good little girl or should I even dare to say slut”. He let go of one arm and sneaked down to stroke himself, his hot breath touched the skin of your neck like a soft feather, you tilted your head to give him even more access to mark you up as his. “Grab it..” he growled, slapping his dick against your pubic bone. Your hand went down taking it in a firm grip making him groan and twitch in your small hand, you bit your lip and gave him a kinda innocent yet sexy look. With a half smile he tilted his head “put it in”. Your pussy felt like a damn waterfall hearing those filthy words leave Yunhos mouth, you didn’t hesitate a second and pushed his pulsating cock up into your dripping cunt, your mouth fell slightly open but he just smirked at you.

Yunho fastened his pace very quick and fucked you without any mercy, he lifted one of your legs to get even deeper access reaching your cervix. Being lost in this fog of pleasure you never noticed Mingi sneaking up behind you until you felt a pair of hands on your tits, they’d trapped you between their big bodies with no escape possible. Did you complain tho? No.

“Ready for one more.. slut” Mingi grinned and twirled your pierced nipples. Yunho slammed his cock in deep making you moan loudly, you hummed and nodded to give him a yes. Mingi smirked for himself and turned his gaze down to watch his cock disappear inside you already occupied pussy, the cold metal ring stung as he slowly slipped his dick inside alongside with Yunhos. Your eyes began to tear up and your legs weakened but they held you up straight as they both fucked you. Yunho kissed you sloppily, Mingi grabbed your chin and turned your head around to kiss him instead which didn’t make Yunho that happy, as Mingi rocked his hips into you he gave Yunho his middle finger without you seeing. It was all a game between them, which one who could fuck you or make you feel the best without maybe being too interested in what you actually felt.

“Hey let me have her back!” Yunho hacked. Mingi let go of your mouth and gathered a lump of spit, he raised an eyebrow at Yunho before he guided your mouth open to spit in it. You whined as you swallowed it and smiled, you finally began to feel a burning sensation in your stomach with the stimulation Mingis PA gave your weak spot.

“I I’m gonna cum” you whined. Your whole body tensed up and your pussy clenched around the two cocks for its life. Suddenly you had two hands toying with your clit, one hand was clean and slender while the other was big and covered in rings. They fucked you in the same pace they played with your clit until you finally came. Your juices covered their dicks deliciously making it even easier for them to slide in and out of your poor cunt. “Gonna take our cum honey? Be our good little cum slut” Mingi breathed behind you. “Wanna swallow honey?” Yunho gave you a kiss on your nose. Your brain was like porridge getting into overstimulation mode, it all happened so fast. They both stopped and gave you their big loads of hot cum, the toilet was filled with deep moans, grunts and heavy breathing. All your mixed juices spilled out between their cocks and down onto the cracked tile floor. Yunho quickly pulled out feeling more coming, he took a step back and grabbed your head bending you forward till you was in height with his throbbing cock. You opened up and welcomed his filled cock into your mouth to take what was left of his hot cum.

Mingi took the opportunity to fuck you some more rocking you forward having you gag on Yunhos dick. You cried out loud feeling the warm liquid flow down your throat, your numb pussy being overstimulated made you cry even more. Cum dripped down your chin when Yunho pulled out his softening cock, he softly stroked your cheek. “Done fucking you jerk?” Yunho nagged on his horny friend who was abusing your stretched hole. You were about to fall when he hit you harder from behind, Yunho had to hold you in his arms until Mingi had finished..

“Gonna cum again M-Mingi mmph! Can’t ta- take anymoreee” you cried out, your voice hoarse from the screaming and crying. “You’re not done until I’ve filled you up once more” Mingi snapped. “You and your stupid dick” Yunho mocked. You both came together this time and you collapsed in Yunhos arms, Mingi pulled out and rubbed your wet folds pushing his cum back into you.

Yunho moved you to sit on the toilet. “I need to get cleaned up I can’t walk out like this” you mumbled as you slowly came back to reality. Yunho knelt down between your legs and you felt his hot tongue tracing your inner thighs and around your vulva cleaning the remaining mess. Your hand found his hair and tugged on it. Mingi put his cock back in his pants and gave you your bra, the panties did he put in his back pocket.

You slowly wobbled up on your jello legs fixing your skirt and top, there were only one thing missing.. “where’s my panties?” You shot a glare at both of them. Yunho looked at Mingi, “I don’t think you’ll need them anymore tonight” he said giving you a wink.

And you sure didn’t, you later ended up in the hallway on an old and dusty sofa sandwiched between them with both holes stuffed with their fat cocks.

Wanted to be tagged: @yuyuyuyumesblog @mingisdimple @wisejudgedragonhairdo @londonbridges01 @star-my @innieslut @tunafishyfishylike 🥰