#WHY DID I THINK TRYING CROCHET WAS A GOOD FUCKING IDEA

[trenchcroats]

Litterally so easy to give up on crochet wtf it this bullshit I fucking hate granny squares kill me now fucking hell

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a really great (love?) story, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Hot summer. South of France. On vacation with your younger brother's friends. Uh. Well, might as well make the most of it, despite Kim Taehyung making his weird comments every now and then. That damn French waiter put ideas in his head.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Taehyung is obv trying to rizz up reader and reader is having none of it (but secretly likes it, keke); smut (fem reader, fingering, m-receiving oral); romantic and hella fluff; non-idol!AU; friends-to-lovers

I bought Tae's photobook and this is the result, what can I say, he's really pretty

--

“We’d make a really great love story.”

You grimaced and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

He frowned. His tan skin sparkled in the sun while you stayed curled up under the shade of a white beach umbrella, extra bundled in a wide straw hat and a flowy white linen cover up over a black and red sporty bikini. Even in this heat, you kept a bright yellow beach towel over your legs, not taking any chances with the blaring fireball in the sky.

Kim Taehyung asked you a question.

“Would you date me?”

You answered honestly.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“You're too good-looking and that'll only bring trouble.”

His crochet shirt was gone, leaving him in hip-hugging dark teal baggy shorts with white stripes down the sides. His dark brown hair was damp from the ocean, tangled over his forehead. When he smiled at your reply, he showed all his teeth in a boxy grin. Your indifferent expression didn’t change. You held onto your book. You continued to show your displeasure as he ran off, long legs and rippling back muscles, knowing full well you would soon be bothered again. Sigh. You turned the next page of your book, listening to the sounds of a rambunctious volleyball game, and wondered again why you had accepted your younger brother’s request.

Damn kid fractured his ankle right before his vacation. Non-refundable plane ticket to Europe. South of France, to be exact. Hot as fuck this time of year. He didn’t want to go because it would be a pain for his friends and he wouldn’t be able to have fun, he said. That and you knew he would rather your parents dote on him all day in prime air conditioning rather than sweat it out with fear-of-missing-out. You told him you had plenty of male friends that would be interested, but your brother insisted you needed to get that stick out of your ass and have a vacation.

So, here you were.

On vacation with your younger brother’s friends. On a beach, reading a book, and, oh, look, here comes Kim Taehyung with a bowl of frozen grapes, yelling your name.

Being annoyed.

The other guys were polite. They always asked if you wanted to join in any of the activities. Some days you stayed back at the rented beach property and puttered around, reading, resting, staring at the view. To be fair, you did try some of activities, such as spending all day on the golf course being really terrible at golf. When your head turned away, some of the boys would move your ball closer to the hole so you could maintain some dignity. Nice kids. You even accompanied them to a night beach club – and saw some things that you will never speak of, yikes – and danced with a couple European guys. At some places, you translated for them when you could. Thankfully, a lot of people in the touristy areas spoke some English. Studying English literature at university hadn’t been useless after all. Although, watching a bunch of Korean guys try to hand-gesture their way in conversations was pretty damn funny. In short, so far it was a surprisingly fun and nice vacation.

Until you went with Taehyung to a fancy café wanted to visit, you being his just-in-case English translator, and the waiter mistook you two as a couple.

That was awkward.

“Oh, no, sorry. Just friends.”

It was probably Taehyung feeding you his chocolate croissant. At first, you were going to refuse, but the pastries had been pretty expensive, and you had wanted to try a bite so he had held it out and let you chomp. Then things got weird once he lifted his hand with a laugh and wiped away from chocolate from the edge of your lip, licking it off his thumb.

You did get a free lemon macaron for being a cute couple once you immediately clarified that you weren’t.

The waiter had winked. Taehyung had just smiled because he didn’t understand.

Awesome.

Once you explained, the relentless teasing began. Well, maybe teasing was the wrong word. Taehyung would just say weird shit with a grin and those sparkly brown eyes of his. Because the other guys were not interested in cute pastries or pretty photo ops spots as seen on TikTok, Taehyung finally had a chance to see these places, using you as an excuse to drag you around at dawn or dusk when the main activities weren’t happening. You had probably taken about five hundred photos of Taehyung by now.

He was very photogenic, at least.

“I think you would look good in these,” he would say during one of the many shopping trips, holding up a pair of chocolate brown, slim sunglasses.

“I’m not as a dress-up doll,” you would grumble as you removed your current cat-eye-shaped dark lenses so he could delicately place the new ones on your nose and survey his handiwork. He would tilt your head this way and that and nod to himself solidly.

“I’m going to buy them, so you have to wear them.”

Thus, you now ticked your new sunglasses down and raised your eyebrow at him as he handed you the bowl of frozen grapes. You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but then he ran off to the guys playing volleyball and act like he hadn’t done anything strange. Hah. You would catch him looking back at you while you were sucking on said grapes and roll your eyes. Was that a smirk or a residual smile from the game?

“A hot summer romance sounds fun, right?”

“Go off, then,” you replied dryly, turning the page of your book.

It was nighttime now. The guys were getting ready to go bar-hopping. You heard some hushed whispers of coming back to jump into the sea at night while drunk. Idiots. You would possibly have to play lifeguard if they followed through on being idiots. Sigh. You elected to stay behind this time, to keep the lights on and all that. You had a few packs of ramyeon in your suitcase for such drunken nights. Nothing like spicy Buldak to finish off a spicy night.

Taehyung poked your shoulder. You knew it was him because of his low whisper and his inability to stop giggling at saying ridiculous shit. You waved a hand.

“Come with us.”

“I don’t need to see you boys twerking on table again. No thanks.”

You heard him suck on his teeth, disappointed. “Join in then.”

“That is a little too weird to be doing around my lil bro’s friends, even for me.”

You glanced at him. Despite his dark, strong features, Taehyung still held that boyish charm. Or maybe it was because you couldn’t see past him being your younger brother’s friend, so he always seemed like a kid to you. He was very popular among the locals. Every time you all stepped out, people would be flocking to speak to him even though Taehyung didn’t know any French (or English, for that matter). Didn’t seem to bother anyone though.

It must be his unquestionably handsome, expressive face.

Hm.

You looked up from your book about science, sex, and murder, to encounter Kim Taehyung’s pouty expression. He was wearing a linen white and sky-blue two-piece set. Short sleeve button up and shorts, complete with floppy brown sandals. He perked up at your acknowledgement. In contrast to his summer heartthrob vibe, you wore a low-waisted long black maxi skirt, a tight black tank, and a draping dark brown lace cardigan. The cardigan color matched his eyes and the slim sunglasses perched on your head that you soon wouldn’t need anymore. The sun was slipping down to bed.

One of the guys called out to you. “Noona, do you want anything while we’re out?”

“We can pick up a man for ya!” Another chimed in loudly with a snort.

Taehyung’s expression darkened.

“Just make sure to do a head count,” you shot back. “Everyone better stay safe or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Ooookay!”

You caught Taehyung’s look. Didn’t say anything about it. He sighed and headed off to the kitchen with purpose as the other men began to pile out of the room. You figured he was pre-gaming or getting some water. You went back to the pages, only to start as you saw a glass and a chilled bottle of white wine slide in front of you.

Dark eyes looked down at you.

You gazed at him over the top of your book.

Reached up and untangled the sunglasses Kim Taehyung had gifted you. You placed them on the counter, next to the wine glass. He turned and left. The guys crowded by the door, gathering their things and laughing. One of them came back and handed you their gold watch – “I don’t want to break it by accident” “You mean, you don’t want to accidentally give it away because you get too happy when drunk?” – giggling with a silly grin and thanking you quickly before running out the door.

Before the door closed, you noticed Taehyung shooting you an enigmatic expression.

You ticked your head and looked back without much expression.

The wine was pretty good, but you didn’t have more than two glasses.

You remembered to put the watch on the appropriate nightstand before heading out to the back porch and reading as the sun went down. It was nice to read by the sunset waves in relative calm. You must have fallen asleep somehow, breathing in the sea and sounds of summer, only to be woken up by a gentle hand on your shoulder, calling your name from far away.

Hazy and deep.

“Hm?”

You shook your head and sat up, seeing Kim Taehyung looking back at you.

“Oh? What are you doing back so soon?” you yawned behind your hand, tucking your bookmark between the pages. “Or is it later than I thought?”

He shook his head of dark waves. He smelled a little like alcohol, but not too bad. “They’re still out. I told them my tummy didn’t feel too good.”

“Ah.” You chuckled. “Too much cheese this afternoon?”

There was a lantern on the back porch, along with a few lounge chairs and low lights that snapped away any pesky bugs. An orange glow dipped over you both. Taehyung had this look in his eyes that you had seen before, although not from him specifically. You were pretty sure every guy on this vacation had considered the same thing, although you had given them none of them a reason to fuck around and find out.

He gave you his puppy-like smile.

You gave him your usual cat-like expression that didn’t mean anything at all.

“You should go lie down,” you recommended.

“You’re my total opposite, I think,” Taehyung responded, which had nothing to do with anything. You didn’t respond to that, but you didn’t tell him he was wrong either. “I wonder what you’re like with your friends.”

You thought about the last time you were in a karaoke session with your few female friends. It had ended with one friend ragdolled on a stretcher and another girl dead asleep in your bathroom until noon of the next day. Stretcher girl was fine after some fluids and a nice, cute, hot male nurse making sure she was okay.

You had hooked up with him as a thanks. For yourself. And him, sorta.

“Girls are different than boys,” and you left it at that.

He raised his hand, spreading his fingers out.

You stared at it.

Taehyung reached over with his other hand and took yours, lifting it up and placing your palm to his.

You blinked slowly.

He was warm, as was the night air. Your hand was smaller, of course, but he wouldn’t be able to engulf it that easily. His palm was rough and worn from summer. From sun, from spiking a volleyball, from swimming in the salty sea. Yours was still soft from turning pages and sipping wine.

“I always thought you would want a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys pink, parties, and flowers,” you commented, not yet removing your hand.

You did not go around perusing thoughts of your younger brother’s friends’ love lives, because that would be fucking weird. But it was a thought. Especially when you witnessed them get into or fall out of relationships. High school had been… yup. You had covered for lil bro and the boys a few too many times; you were a much better liar. With your parents usually gone for work, you were usually the one in charge, which meant you often played babysitter to way too many idiots. For some reason, over the years, they liked to ask for your opinion of their prospective girlfriends. You suspected it was because this course of action was safer than immediately introducing them to their mothers who were much scarier when it came to their sons. After all the question was always, what would my mom think of this person? You had tried to distance yourself as they all became older, but, alas.

Somehow you always got dragged back in to looking after them.

“There has to be a flower you like,” Taehyung insisted. “There are so many flowers in the world.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I like snowdrops.”

His face brightened. “Ah, yeah, that suits you. I see it.”

Your hands were still touching, palm-to-palm.

You tilted your head.

Taehyung didn’t move his hand away.

“I always thought you were a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys black, quiet time, and snowdrops,” he said slowly, dreamily, his words turned into honey by his smooth, low voice.

You pointed out the obvious. “I only just told you I like snowdrops.” You scoffed lightheartedly. “And I enjoy quiet time because you all are so damn noisy.”

The sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes dulled a bit.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You recalled him saying he told the others his stomach hurt. He must have picked up a thing or two from you over the years.

“About candlelit dinners? About going on night walks, buying convenience store snacks, and eating it at the kids’ playground when no one is around?” Taehyung asked one question after another. “About standing in the rain? Sharing an umbrella? Holding hands? About that leather jacket I have, borrowing it when you’re a bit cold, standing beside each other, waiting for the midnight train?”

He interlocked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t react much, other than saying, “You do look like the male lead in a romance drama, Kim Taehyung.”

The obvious was being avoided.

After a long moment, Taehyung let go of your hand, stood up, and went to his room.

You tried to put it out of your mind.

The night was warm enough that you napped a little more. Woke up a few hours later to make ramyeon and hydrate the group, earning many drunken handshakes of enthusiastic thanks. You stayed up a bit with them, learning of the night’s exploits despite the incoherent mess of their speech, and then sent them off to bed, one by one. Cleaned up, stared at the moon for a long time, and then headed to your room. Unlike the others, you weren’t sharing a room. It was small and cozy, as expected. You placed your book by your nightstand and sat in the dark.

You weren’t quite sleepy yet, but you got ready for bed anyway.

A few years ago, you and Taehyung had a… moment.

A very fleeting moment.

It had happened at bar. You had been turning the corner in the hallway to the bathrooms, and a hand grabbed your arm, yanking hard. Your body twisted, instantly on alert, but one look at the other person, and the shock had stopped you from pulling away, thereby allowing a drunken Kim Taehyung kiss you.

The contact had been in less than a second.

He had smelled like warm leather and musky embers.

Taehyung had immediately pulled away, sputtering your name, surprised that you both found yourselves at the same bar, the inopportune fate causing this fateful accident.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else – how… when…?”

You had shaken your head quickly, turning, your passing whisper by his ear.

“Forget about it.”

You entered the bathroom as a girl rounded the corner and fell into Taehyung’s arms.

At that time, you had chalked it up to weird timing. A random encounter. You had been hooking up with a different guy in Daegu. Taehyung was from there, so it wasn’t totally improbable that you could cross paths. Bold move by him. Wasn’t unheard of, though. Guys could be like that. Girls liked that stuff. When you left the bathroom, the couple was gone, which was a relief. You had gone about your night and it ended as expected. That guy had a great ass. It had ended on good terms, but ended all the same.

You wondered what made him bring it up again.

After all, he was the type of man he was, always surrounded by people vying for his attention.

He knew the type of woman you were.

Well, you had started getting a reputation among Daegu men.

After a moment of reminiscing, you stood up to pull back the curtain at your window. Your room was on the lower floor, next to the back porch, and, like a dream, there he was, Kim Taehyung against the rail, leaning over it to look towards the ocean.

You blinked slowly.

He wasn’t exactly looking inside the house, but he must have noticed your movement, because his head turned, and now you were entangled in eye contact broken by a thin pane of glass.

The shadows danced across his face. The lantern light was off but the lower lights along the ground path were still on. For safety, likely. He was only wearing a pair of white, tie-front linen pants. You wondered if Taehyung had been waiting for you or if he was simply admiring the summer night. Hard to tell. A soft breeze ruffled through his dark hair. You stood in your room, one hand on the floral curtain, the other on the button placket of your black silk pajamas. Short sleeved and shorts, breezy and slinky, perfect for the summer weather.

Moonlight shimmered off his bare chest.

After a moment, Taehyung backed away from the rail. You watched him step down the porch and walk over to stand under your window.

He tapped the glass.

You opened it.

Those dark eyes stared at you, blocking the light with his frame.

The window opened inward, a vintage latch at the center to split the two panes. You leaned out a bit, bending slightly, and now you and him were at eye level, surrounded by the salted scent of the sea instead of the dark hallway of a bar next to the bathrooms.

“You stomach didn’t actually hurt, did it?” you asked.

Taehyung smiled, but didn’t reply.

Instead, he too leaned forward a bit, inhaling softly. You had a tendency to spray your perfume in your hair. It lasted longer that way. He could probably smell it off your hair right now.

“I thought I would be fine,” he said, looking into your eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

“I thought I could forget about it,” he breathed in that deep honey voice of his.

Your eyes shifted past his, then back.

You placed your elbows on the windowsill and leaned out. You inside. Him outside. Taehyung seemed like he was searching for something in your expression. You didn’t give him anything. You wondered what he would do. The alcohol must have worn off by now. You weren’t feeling the glasses of excellent white wine anymore, at least. You remembered how the French women at the night beach club had held his arms and leaned against him, complimenting his smile and cooing over his perfect skin and beautiful dark hair. He hadn’t stopped them.

But, also, Taehyung was closing the distance right now, his warm cologne entering your private space.

“Why couldn’t you forget?” you asked, his lips centimeters from yours, viewing him through lashes.

His head was already tilted. His eyes flickered up, having lowered by instinct.

“Couldn’t help but think that you would make a wonderful female lead in a romance novel.”

You smiled, noting the detail between your words and his.

His lips pressed against yours.

You held it for a moment. Soft, deep, breathing in the scent of each other. You drew apart, hearing him suck in a breath hastily. Half-smiled, amused by his nervousness. He raised his head. You shared a questioning look. The night ocean sang, soft waves lapping at the shore.

You tilted your head towards the inside of your room.

Taehyung hesitated for a second, but only for a second.

Less than a minute later, he slipped into your room. Opened and closed the door as quietly as the old wood would allow. You paused, wondering if he had a whole script memorized, being the romantic and all, but Taehyung lifted his eyes and it seemed like he forgot everything. It seemed you had to be the one to make a move. You still stood by the open window, in your black silk pajamas. Night bathed in moonlight.

Well, you did have a reputation among Daegu men. One more couldn’t hurt.

You lifted your hand, palm towards Taehyung.

He closed the distance, almost soundless, and lifted his hand too. Palm to palm. You looked down at your touching hands, then back up at him. He was quite tall, but he wasn’t imposing his presence over you.

“You think we would make a really great love story?”

The moon caught a hint of his blush.

“You don’t think so?” he replied, unsure in the wake of you teasing back for once.

You were honest with him.

“I really don’t know.”

You angled your hand slightly so your fingers and his no longer overlapped.

“You have to be sure that you’re okay with that.”

You let your eyes linger on his chest on purpose before raising your head to make eye contact. The memory of his lips lingered. It was just like how you remembered it, even from that rushed, barely a second, frozen-in-time moment.

His kiss, however brief, had a lasting, forever type of feeling.

“You asked me if I had ever thought about it.”

His eyes widened a little bit as you mentioned the previous conversation. Like a movie, the instances played back in your head. The accidental kiss. The awkward silences when you both found yourselves alone in the smallest of moments before brushing past each other. You noticed Taehyung dating on and off, yet not committing to anyone. The times when he would notice you with other guys and quickly look away, as if he witnessed something dirty or wrong. His behavior wasn’t intrusive. He didn’t push you towards anyone, but he didn’t pull you away either.

“Not really,” you admitted. “Mostly because I didn’t think you would want the challenge.”

Taehyung stared into your eyes, slipping his fingers in between yours, holding your hand tightly.

“I think I needed to grow up a little.”

You raised your eyebrows. Looked him up and down. “Seems like you grew a lot.”

He laughed, then toned it down despite the house currently snores abode. You knew what he meant and he knew the double meaning you implied. You lifted your other hand. His chuckling died down, watching. He tensed as the pads of your fingers made contact with his forearm, walking up his muscle.

“You had a plan, hm?”

Your whisper melted into the moonlight.

“I was…” His breath stilled when you stopped. You glanced up, your fingertips poised at the bend of his elbow. “I was… going to ask you what kind of lover you are.”

You ticked your head, not yet moving your hand. “What about you?”

Taehyung’s dark eyes were barely visible under his hair fallen over his forehead.

“Yours.”

You paused.

His shoulder lifted in the lightest of shrugs.

“I heard you’re really good. Sometimes rough.”

Word got around then.

“I’m really good. Sometimes soft. So, we will balance out,” he said with a smile.

You removed your hand from his skin.

Your whisper so low it was nearly a growl.

“Is that what you think?”

The fingers of your raised hand spread. Curved. Danced over his neck. Taehyung started slightly at the contact of your middle finger sliding over his throat, your eyes locked with his, and you traced up, into the pocket of his jaw, closing your fingers around the back of his head and pulling his face down to yours.

And you kissed him.

Slow. Soft and intense at the same time, drawing in your breath. For a moment, Taehyung was suspended in surprise before leaning in, gasping against your lips, tangled in your tongue before he knew it. His own hand came up to cup your cheek, more to stabilize himself than for the passion, but then it all meshed together, kiss after kiss. One hand tangled in his hair and the other resting in the dip of his warm chest. He had one hand on your face and the other skimming along your elbow.

Surrounded by salt air and shadows.

You broke the kiss, pulling back with a sigh.

You half-expected him to retreat. Taehyung was one to flirt and not back it up. You were one to not flirt; instead, the first to move. He must have known that. For once, you played the role of the gentlemen this time, waiting for his choice. Toying with a half-smile on your lips, the erratic rise and fall of his built chest under your fingertips. Racing heart. Lingering taste. His dark eyes surveyed you under the messiness of his beach-loved hair.

In silence, you stared into his eyes, daring him to sin.

There must have been something in the French night air.

Taehyung tilted his head, feathering air-light kisses over your jaw. Your neck. You tilted your head back, to the side, letting out a sensual exhale at the tingling of your pulse. Your fingers touched the button placket of your pajamas, leisurely unbuttoning one by one. You felt his fingers ghost over one shoulder, pushing it down, exposing skin to air.

He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest.

You leaned your head back against his collarbone, silk draping down your arms.

Felt him whisper your name into your ear, low and tainted with lust.

His hands covered your chest, fingers spread, large palms hovering, statuesque in pose. Demure for half a second. Moonlight streaming over your torso. You arched your back, and Taehyung sucked in a breath, feeling your naked breasts fill his hands. His lips brushed against your neck, shuddering, and you rubbed your hard nipples into his rough palms, grazing your ass over his crotch.

“Fuck…”

You turned your head, viewing him from your periphery, melting into his touch without a word.

Your hands migrated to his sides, sliding down, adorning his hips with your curved fingers.

Taehyung moaned softly, his eyes closing. Hands all over your chest, igniting desire. Hungry but deliberate, no sense in rushing, moving to the sound of the sea. His erection pressed into the dip of your ass, linen and silk separating the skin to skin but not enough to hide the hardness to softness. Exhale. His arms crossed over your chest, soft lips on the base of your neck, and you felt him ghost his fingers down, down, past your bellybutton, dancing over the waistband of your shorts.

With one swift movement, you turned your wrist and covered the back of his hand with yours, dragging him in between the layers.

He gasped as he felt your slick wetness coat his fingertips.

Your other hand slid into his pants, grabbing his ass, pinning Taehyung to you while you pressed his fingers into the outer lips, rocking your hips into it, grinding on his growing arousal, grinning when you heard him swear under his breath again.

He shoved a finger into you.

You both moaned at the same time, the sound drowned by the crashing tide outside.

You pressed another in, and he got the hint. Middle and ring finger, his palm pressed to your throbbing clit, and you rode his hand before he moved, blossoming the pleasure all on your own. His moan rumbled in his chest, biting his lip to avoid any obvious noise. The wet sucking sound was conspicuous enough, and you tightened your core, your pussy clenching around his fingers, prompting Taehyung to lean his chin onto your shoulder, his dark hair brushing against your cheekbone, one hand teasing your nipples, the other between your legs, delicious sparks flying through your body knowing he was actively watching.

“The sounds you make… are insane…”

You weren’t aware until he said it. Soft, breathless gasps drifted out of your own lips, inaudible to anyone except for the inescapable closeness of Taehyung pinning you to his tense body. You could feel the shake creep down to your legs, your silk shorts slipping down your thighs, the fullness of each thrust making your lightheaded. And then, you felt Taehyung slightly curve his fingers.

You sucked in a breath, your eyes shutting, seeing stars, pleasure and want increasing tenfold.

“A-Ah, yes… Taehyung…”

His name polluted by sensuality. Foreign but not unwelcome. A sudden arousing surge of lovely wrongness – after all, you should not be fucking one of your younger brother’s closest friends – but you could tell it had an effect on him too. He squeezed your nipple, making you hiss, and then you felt his tongue flat against the side of your neck, sliding up, his breath hot, his impossibly deep voice husky, his command pleading.

“Cum for me.”

You raised yourself to tiptoes, the curve of your ass against his twitching bulge, and sank your nails into his hip as you came, spilling onto his palm in vibrating shivers, delicately moaning to the ceiling. The intense high rushed up your center, through your limbs, all over your nerves, and you let it take over, shuddering, growing limp in Taehyung’s flexed arms.

As expected, he did not drop you.

You stayed in the heady fog of orgasm, slowly waking as if in a lucid dream. Turned your head and found his lips, or perhaps his lips found yours. It was hard to tell. You drew his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it, sensing a growing desperation in the shallowness of his breath.

You pried your fingernails from his hip, rueful. “I got carried away. My bad.”

A hint of a mischievous smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

You questioned him with half-moon eyes.

“Someone might see.”

The smirk morphed into more of a roguish smile. There he was. “I can say I got scratched up while roughhousing. They’re not gonna think twice about it,” he teased.

“Tch. Tricky, tricky, aren’t you, Kim Taehyung?”

You twisted like a dancer, breaking from his embrace. He let you go, somewhat reluctantly. His right hand was still glistening, covered in your orgasm. He glanced at it, mesmerized, before realizing you were kicking away your shorts and panties, tossing your unbuttoned top onto the bed. His eyes widened when your hand came into contact with his chest. You slid down. In one swift movement, you lowered to a squat, right in front of the massive tent in his pants.

Taehyung had but a second to intake a breath.

You grazed your palm down his stomach, his bellybutton, to the tie of his pants. Tugged on it, unlacing it, and then you hooked your thumbs onto the sides of the waistband and pushed them down.

Part of you was mildly shocked Taehyung was going commando.

The other part of you thought that was pretty on brand for him.

You weren’t too surprised by what you saw. He was well-kept, clean, and not fully hard yet. The latter was mostly a guess from experience. It wasn’t polite to stereotype Daegu men, but, well. If the shoe fit and all that. You raised your eyes, amused at his stunned expression, and then leaned forward to lick along the thickening length.

“Oh, shit…”

He must have expected you to simply put his cock in your mouth or wrap your hand around it. Instead, you pressed your lips to the hot, velvety skin, decorating him with kisses before flickering out your tongue and wrapping it over the head, rubbing your lips against the underside. Back and forth, curling your tongue around the swelling tip, licking off the leaking pre-cum.

He tasted strong. More enjoyable than most.

You looked up as you worked his shaft. Taehyung gasped and his cock twitched as if to affirm his attraction.

“F-Fuck, what…?”

“You should taste my cum while I suck you off,” you murmured against his balls, licking them all over as you spoke.

He wasn’t used to the multiple sensations. You could tell by his heavy pants and the tension rippling all over his torso. How unfortunate, but you would make up for that right now.

“O-Okay… fuck…”

You watched Taehyung slide his fingers into his open lips and his eyes rolled back, groaning deeply as your essence hit his tongue. In one fluid flick of your head, you swallowed his cock, relaxing as your lips pressed to the base, feeling his girth stretch out your throat. You lowered your tongue, bringing him deeper, and perhaps it was a good idea to have Taehyung lick his fingers off. His shocked whine was stifled by his own hand. You paid it no mind, slowly pulling back and diving forward, his scent filling your nose every time you inhaled, catching glimpses of him sliding his fingers in out of his mouth with each ascent.

Somehow Taehyung made the depraved act look almost dreamy.

Your fingertips balanced on the floorboards, lowering your knees to better support yourself. Not using your hands out of pride. You even leaned your head back, both to gain more air and to take him deeper with less resistance. You saw Taehyung pull his fingers out of his mouth, strings of saliva beading on his lower lip, balancing his fingers by his shivering exhales as he watched you, entranced.

You let the pleasure reflect in your eyes.

“How… wow… fuck, your tits and thighs look so good at this angle…”

The strain was prickling through your limbs. You were far too engrossed in your task to care, feeling your pussy dampen from the intoxicating adrenaline, closing your eyes to focus on the pace. Steady, intense, listening to the deepening sound of his groan, his cock throbbing in your throat, signaling he was close, and then his voice ceased, suspended, lost in the warm, encompassing reverie.

His hips tensed, snapping forward, and Taehyung gasped your name.

His hot orgasm gushed onto the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the viscous, heady flavor, making you as lightheaded as he sounded. Through his jerking length you could feel the flinches ravage his body, and all of a sudden his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you down to the brink of danger.

You swallowed, trying to grasp for a sliver of oxygen.

Taehyung almost doubled over, his erotic cry muffled by his other hand slapping over his mouth, and he half-pulled out of your closed lips, only to slide back in again, slowly, groaning above your head. He was trying to keep quiet and contain his sound within the walls of this room. Everyone else in the house was probably too drunk to string a sentence together, let alone figure out sex was happening under the same roof, but it was best not to take any chances.

His expansive girth was trembling, softening as his sensitivity increased. None of that stopped him from continuing to thrust in post-orgasmic bliss, lengthening his pleasure. You swirled your tongue around him and Taehyung trembled, whispering sweet nothings like smoke, his words melding with the melodic sound of ocean waves.

After a few more thrusts, his grip lessened, backing off.

You drew back, licking your lips, throwing your head back, breathing in a long, greedy gulp of fresh salty air. There was something ethereal about the whole scene. If it wasn’t for the ache in your knees, you might have been deceived into thinking it never happened. His memorable taste was still on your tongue. You swallowed again, and then felt a hand on your elbow.

Wordlessly, you opened your eyes and let Taehyung lift you to your feet.

He stared at you, his hair over his eyes, breathing hard. His chest glistened in the moonlight. The rest of him was shadowed by your naked body.

“I…”

You waited.

“I… I should have asked if you…” He trailed off, grasping your arm tightly.

You half-smiled. “You thought I wouldn’t want to?”

There seemed to be a pink flush on his cheeks. His ears were certainly turning red. “I first wanted to ask you… No, Invite you on a proper date. Not on this vacation but… sometime soon?”

You couldn’t help but tease him. “Why so nervous when we’re naked in front of each other?”

Taehyung spared a glance down and then blushed deeper, clearing his throat. “I don’t know. I’m not usually nervous.” His dark eyes drifted back to your face. “I always thought you were beautiful. But too good for me.”

That almost made you laugh. “Too good? You know my reputation, Taehyung, and ‘good’ does not describe it.”

He shook his head.

Tugged on your arm, pulling you towards him.

“Yin and yang.”

He brought his forehead down, touching yours.

“You need both to have a really great love story.”

You breathed in his rich, warm scent, and leaned in to kiss him again. The sea, the salt air, the heat between you and him, burning, and the next day you were sitting under the beach umbrella again, laying on a teak lounger, book in hand, chocolate brown sunglasses perched on the end of your nose, secretly observing sun-kissed Kim Taehyung diving into the foamy waves as he snuck glances back at you, admiring your watchful form.

You smiled in shade as Taehyung dazzled in the sun.

--

masterpost

[idkwhatever580]

Karma’s A Bitch

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Natasha pranks reader without knowing r is petty and will double back on the prank war with much more force

Warnings: angst, some crying, fake blood, fake period, pain, pranks :)))

Pronouns: unspecified I think? but AFAB

A/N: I definitely did not take inspiration from a certain person that totally isn’t named jojo siwa 😅 guys I swear I think I’m funny

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s pov

Natasha and I got into a little bit of a scuffle earlier. I finished off the peanut butter and she couldn’t make a peanut butter sandwich (gross)

So I kinda was a little bratty and she was mad. I feel really bad now and I know she won’t be mad at me because that’s just how we are but I’m going to apologize.

I walk to the living room where she and Wanda are not really watching a show. Well. Wanda is crocheting and Natasha is playing on her phone. So I walk to her and sit on her lap.

She looks up at me and I say

“I’m sorry nat. I shouldn’t have gotten so stubborn about the peanut butter”

She smiles and I know I’m in the clear and she says

“That’s okay baby. Thank you for apologizing and I also want to say sorry. I realize that it’s not that big of a deal.”

I smile and kiss her and say

“So we’re all good?”

She nods her head and says

“All is forgiven.”

Natasha looks at her watch and says

“Oh! I have to go”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Go where?”

She moves me off her lap and says

“I have an appointment at 12:00”

I nod my head and pout my lips for a kiss and she leans down to softly kiss me goodbye

“I love you”

I say as she leaves and she says

“Mhm bye babe”

I furrow my eyebrows when she doesn’t say it back and I think maybe she didn’t hear me

“Nat? What time are you getting back?”

“Around 1 or 2 o’clock”

I nod my head and say

“Okay be safe, I love you”

I put a bit more volume to the I love you. And she nods her head and says

“I’m always safe. Bye. Bye wanda”

She waves bye to Wanda and walks out without ever saying i love you back to me

I try to think why she would do that. Before I can dig myself too deep into my thoughts Wanda cuts in and says

“Uh- what was that about?”

I look at her and say

“I don’t know. I tried twice and she wouldn’t say it back”

Wanda sits up and sets her crochet down

“Is she mad at you? Is everything alright?”

I shrug my shoulders and say

“You heard her, she forgave me. Did it sound genuine?”

She nods her head and says

“She is also not the type to just leave without saying I love you to you. At least I don’t think so”

I shake my head and say

“No. Even if we’re fighting she always says I love you. She never leaves without resolving it. I know she’s only going for an hour but still.”

Wanda shakes her head and says

“Well. Maybe she forgot”

I nod my head trying to convince myself of that too but I leave to my room and spend the whole hour overthinking about it. I end up crying from all my overthinking and Natasha walks in an hour later and says

“What’s wrong baby?”

She immediately runs to me and holds me and I sob into her neck and say

“You don’t love me anymore!”

She shakes her head and says

“No baby! No I was pranking you to get you back for eating my peanut butter!”

I sniffle and tears are still running but I look at her and say

“Really?”

She nods her head and says

“I love you so so much baby. I just wanted to mess with you a bit”

I shove her shoulder a tad and say

“That was mean!”

She chuckles and I glare at her and say

“Did you forget what happened to Tony when he pranked me?”

Her eyes widen and her face goes a bit pale.

Last year Tony thought it was a good idea to make me think I was getting kicked off the avengers. He brought fury into it and everything.

Obviously it ended in tears and stuff.

The next morning after the prank he woke up with no eyebrows and green hair. And I keyed one of his hundreds of cars. And wrote “fuck you” on it. (One of the cheapest cars he owns don’t worry I’m not crazy)

It was really funny to me and the others but he never messed with me again.

I smirk at her even though my eyes are still a bit blurry from crying and I say

“You should have thought about that one.”

She shakes her head and says

“You can prank me back as long as it doesn’t involve breaking or ruining something”

I nod my head and say with an evil grin

“Deal. But you’ll never see it coming and don’t forget. The wise JoJo Siwa once said ‘karma’s a bitch. You should have known better’”

She pushes my shoulder and says

“You’re so dumb”

I giggle a bit at my joke and Natasha joins in with laughter until we’re laughing a lot.

——————————————————————————

It’s been a week and Natasha finally let her guard down. She thinks I forgot or something. I didn’t. I’m getting her back today.

I know it’s kind of insensitive to do this prank but it’s the only one I can think of that she won’t immediately guess it’s a prank.

Yes. It’s a period prank. I know what happened in the red room but she says it doesn’t affect her. Like the period part.

I feel like it’d be different if I was like making fun of her or something but I’m just gonna pretend I bled a lot.

Natasha had only a few periods before the “ceremony” she doesn’t actually remember any of it. So she doesn’t know much about it other than from what she’s seen with me and Wanda.

Usually my periods aren’t bad. Thank goodness. Yeah I get cramps but I don’t always throw up. Okay maybe they’re bad. But it’s really the cramps that are the bad parts. I usually have like a regular to super flow.

I woke up early for me. Natasha is already training at her usual time. I have about thirty minutes until she comes back after her gym shower.

I get up and grab the fake blood I bought earlier and I wipe it on my shorts. I put it all over and then I sit down on the bed where I’m gonna be “sleeping”

I make it look like I’m bleeding out or something serious and then I hide the fake blood bottle in my bedside table. Thankfully I didn’t get any fake blood on my hands so it doesn’t give me away.

I lie down and pretend to sleep. Then Natasha comes in and does her morning routine with me. She comes over and lies on top of me softly to wake me up.

I immediately cringe in feigned pain and she pulls back a bit. She hovers over me and brushes my hair out of my face and says

“Baby? Are you okay?”

I don’t answer and she says

“Y/n?”

I open my eyes and pout at her and try to say something but I grab my stomach in pain and groan

“What’s going on baby? Do you feel sick?”

I shake my head and frown and say

“Cramps”

She sighs and nods her head and says

“Have you started?”

I shrug my shoulders and say

“I think I start tomorrow”

She nods her head and says

“I’ll go get you a heat pack”

I nod my head and she pulls away and kisses my forehead and says

“I’ll be right back okay?”

I nod my head and she walks to the bathroom to grab my heat pad.

Once she’s out of sight I pull the covers up a bit to make it look like I just looked and I say

“Nat!?”

She comes in and says

“Yeah?”

I put on my best panic face and say

“Natty I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to!”

She comes over to me quickly and sees the blood and she freezes.

“Nat?”

She clicks into her help mode and says

“Okay baby. Something is wrong. We need to get you to medbay”

I shake my head and say

“No I just- I just bled through my shorts.”

Natasha shakes her head and says

“No y/n. That’s not just bleeding through your shorts…”

She hesitates

“Right?”

I shake my head and say

“It’s fine nat this has happened before”

Her eyes go wide and she says

“You mean this exact thing has happened more than once?!”

I nod my head nonchalantly and say

“Can you just help me get cleaned up?”

She freezes trying to make sense of everything and nods her head.

She picks me up and carries me to the bathroom.

“Do you need help?”

I shake my head and she steps out. I smirk knowing I put another bottle of fake blood in the bathroom and I quickly grab it and sit on the toilet and pour some in there to make it look like I bled even more. I put the bottle away and sit down and prepare to freak out.

Natasha barges in and says

“I just called Wanda and she said this isn’t normal. Why would you lie to me?!”

I take this as my chance and I look up at her with a dazed frown and thankfully I somehow managed to make myself look sickly. She furrows her eyebrows and says

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

She walks up to me and I show her the toilet and she gasps.

“Is it bad?”

I ask. Before she can respond I sway a bit to the side to make it look like I’m about to pass out.

Wanda bursts into the room and comes close to me as Natasha grabs me softly to help balance me

“Oh my god! Y/n! Natasha this is not okay we need to get her to medbay immediately!”

I grab Natasha’s arm and say

“Why am I bleeding so much?”

She looks at me and says

“I don’t know baby but this is serious. Let’s go”

She tries to pick me up but I push her hands away and say

“Let me get up. It hurts to be carried.”

She reluctantly nods her head and says

“Wanda get Bruce to get ready for when we get there.”

Right before Wanda leaves I say

“Wait!”

I stand up tall and then randomly start doing the jojo siwa karma dance and say

“Karmas a bitch! You shoulda known better!”

And Natasha and Wanda look at each other then back at me and I say

“You just walked the prank!”

Natasha stands up and says

“What?”

I look at her and say

“It was a prank dummy. I told you I’d get you back. You know I don’t mess around with pranks”

She lets out a sigh of relief knowing I’m not actually dying and she then gets a bit mad and says

“You got that shit on everything! You’re so dead”

I giggle and say

“But it was a good one right?”

She glares at me but when I give her my puppy eyes she kind of scoffs with a smile and looks away and says

“Yeah. It was pretty good. Even if I thought you were bleeding out”

I smirk and say

“I’m sorry. I love you baby”

I go for a hug but she stiff arms me and says

“Not until you clean every single thing you got blood on up”

I drop my head and say

“Okay. You’re not mad at me are you?”

She laughs a bit and says

“Oh no I’m pissed. You’re sleeping on the couch for that one”

I pout and nod my head and Wanda says

“By the way. You’re a bitch. I thought you were actually dying. I still love you though hoe”

I giggle at my best friend and say bye as she leaves

Then I look at Natasha and say

“I love you”

She nods her head and says

“I love you too baby. Now get cleaning or else you’ll be on the couch for a month”

I widen my eyes and run to clean myself and everything else up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finish cleaning up and I go out to the kitchen and sit next to Natasha on a barstool who is now eating a peanut butter sandwich.

“Are you still mad at me?”

She looks at me surprised and says

“Why would I be mad at you?”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Because I did a mean prank?”

She chuckles a bit and says

“Oh. Yeah I was a bit frustrated but I was never mad. I don’t think I can be mad at you for that. I should have seen it coming”

I smirk and say

“Yeah. I did promise that. But thank you for caring about me.”

She smiles and says

“I really thought you were crazy when you said it was normal.”

I smile and say

“I am pretty crazy”

She sets her sandwich down and says

“I love you baby”

I smile and kiss her softly and say

“I love you more”

She smirks and says

“I love you most”

We’re in a battle for the love now. But I have the winning hand

“I loved you first.”

She frowns and says

“Dang it. That’s unfair. You can’t use that against me!”

I smile and rub my nose softly against hers and say

“Yes I most definitely can and I just did”

She narrows her eyes and says

“Fine. You win this time!”

I giggle and set my hand on her leg and say

“I win every time.”

She crosses her arms and says

“Yeah you do.”

I smile softly and then I get an impulsive thought and I jump up and Natasha starts

“What are you doi-”

I shake my hand down and stomp my foot and start yell singing

“KARMAS A BITCH I SHOULDA KNOWN BETTER!!”

She shakes her head and says

“What am I gonna do with you?”

I shrug my shoulders as I sit back down on the barstool.

“Throw me in the trash?”

She thinks about it and says

“Although that would be fun I think I might just throw you on the couch”

I smile and step back and say

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Then I bolt and she says

“You’re never gonna win this game!!”

——————————————————————————

A/N this is totally off topic but I think I’m going to stop posting for a while. I’m having a hard time with family and stuff going on and I am about to graduate so a bunch of things are coming up. I love yall so much and I am still taking requests I just might be taking longer to post them. <3

[pinkynana]

cw : stepbro!nahyuck x fem reader, stepcest, mention of somnophilia (but not written in detail), pussy eating, threesome, blowjob, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breast play, dumbification, tell me if i missed anything

a/n : i'm sorry for being away for a month. i'm gonna disappear for another month, i think. sorry. also, this was an anon request that i wanted to do longer (and might be a series)

living away from your parents bcs of college was normal. what (didn't) irritate you are your two annoying step brothers, hyuck and jaemin, who constantly visit you. and by constantly, this means everyday and sleepovers during the weekend. you always say they bother you but it actually gives you company. living alone can be scary for young women like you. 

one morning, you bent down to grab your bowl in the lower cabinet. what surprises you is the feeling of jaemin's hips meeting yours. you squeaked and gasped when he even pulled you closer to him. "good morning. having breakfast?" he asked innocently. 

"yeah, you want some?" you pushed him away gently. "sure. you'll make some for me?" you nod, taking two bowls instead of one. "how do you like to eat your oatmeal?" you finally turn around to see your step brother's face. 

"aren't you such a good girl?" you felt shivers run down your spine when he slid his finger down from your chin to your jaw. you didn't know why he was looking at you with such eyes. "huh?" 

"asking me what i like." this time, he trapped you in between him and the counter behind you. both his arms next to your hips and his head tilted. you blinked, feeling a weird hot tension. 

"i like mine with honey." you said with an awkward smile, trying to break the tension in between you two.

"sweet." he kisses your cheek. 

he does that all the time. so does your other step brother, donghyuck. you thought it was just a sweet gesture between step siblings but these days it felt different. 

jaemin finally left you alone so you could make him the breakfast you promised. but just few minutes after, donghyuck came along as he smacked your ass with no guilt whatsoever. "hey!" you frowned. "that's not very nice." you weren't sure why you felt embarrassed. siblings joke around like this all the time, right? including step siblings, right? 

donghyuck licked his lips before saying "you've no plans today?" he asked, looking at you in your pajamas still. he knew that if you had plans, you'd wash up before breakfast or sometimes you'd just grab breakfast outside. but you're here in the kitchen with no signs of going out. 

"it's a lazy day, i think." you shrugged. "how's this?" you scooped a little bit of your honey oatmeal to his face, asking him to have a taste. if only you knew that he couldn't care less about whatever the fuck you're cooking. so he pushed away your spoon. 

"wanna have plans with me?" 

"i said it's a lazy day." 

he rolled his eyes. "yeah, the plan is to have a lazy day together." 

"i don't mind but you know, if you're gonna stay here might as well-" 

"i'll be in your room." and there goes your hopes of having your brother to pay rent with you since they've been hanging around a lot with you. of course you love them but it's a capitalist world you live in. 

"jaemin, if you don't get here and eat your oatmeal, i'll put strawberries in it." 

-

"we can just watch movies?" hyuck suggested. "that's boring." jaemin pushed him slightly. "i can teach you guys how to crochet? or maybe cross stitch?" you smiled at your own suggestion.

"honey, it's a lazy day, remember?" hyuck looked at you. 

"fine, i'll just take a nap. you guys do whatever you want." you stomp your feet to your room, acting upset to your step brothers. 

"look what you did, you upset our baby sister!" jaemin complained. "shut up, let her sleep. she said we could do anything." donghyuck smirked, which made jaemin immediately understand his ideas. 

-

having a dream where both your step brothers grope you in your sleep shouldn't feel that good. waking up with wet panties with no one by the side of your bed shouldn't feel this lonely. is lonely even the word you're looking for? 

you wonder if it's a bad thing that you want to touch yourself to the thought of those two. you've never touched yourself for someone in real life. it's always fictional men that make you feel this way. so why is it that your brothers are the ones you thirst for at the moment? 

riding your pillow with nothing but your undergarments on while thinking of hyuck's fingers that touched you in your dreams. the kisses that jaemin gave you on your stomach, your breast. thinking that your step brothers had leave your apartment, you let out loud moans, calling out their names. 

you felt your body jump when suddenly your bedroom door opened with jaemin and donghyuck. you don't know if it's a good or a bad thing that donghyuck literally had his dick out, jerking himself off. you blinked in confusion. 

"i thought you left." you said. 

"when our baby is this sexually frustrated? of course not." jaemin held your chin up so you'd look at him. embarrassment was the only thing you felt at the moment. you probably looked like a disgusting whore to your brothers. 

they loved it. 

"want us to help you, baby?" though you were ashamed, you couldn't help but say "please." 

"up, now." you sat up so jaemin could remove the pillow you were riding. he sees the wet patch on it and on your panties. "dirty girl." he smirked. "i gotta clean you up. lay down for me, pretty." you obliged. 

as your head fell on your pillow, you see donghyuck still jerking off on his dick. it made your mouth water. his cock looked so delicious to you. 

while you fantasized of giving hyuck a blowjob, jaemin had taken off your panties and gave your pussy a kiss. "you can move whenever you want, okay?" he said before finally devouring your nasty clit. with just the feeling of his lips there, you were already pulling his hair and moaning like a bitch. 

"fuck, you look like a cheap slut like that." you hear donghyuck said. "ride his fucking face, whore." you weren't even aware that you obeyed donghyuck's order. you moved your hips on jaemin's lips like they had their mind of their own. "wanna suck you.." you looked at your step brother who was degrading you. 

"oh, you really are a fucking whore." hyuck was nowhere gentle with you. he pushed your face down into your pillows as he climbed on your bed, kneeling in front of your face before giving you what you thirsted for. 

in just a few seconds, hyuck was already thrusting his cock into your throat. "that's right. since i made you cum in your sleep you gotta make me cum in your mouth, got it?" and when he said that, you couldn't help but smile.

so what happened before wasn't a dream? they really did touch you while you were asleep. or could this situation still be in your dream. 

"so fucking sexy. you look so sexy smiling with my cock in your mouth. of course i gotta reward you with my cum, right? wanna swallow my cum, huh? you dirty slut?"

before you could nod, you felt jaemin's dick enter you hole that he made out with earlier. and suddenly everything felt so good. you were practically in heaven. you couldn't believe that you questioned your morals while you masturbated earlier. who cares about morals when you could have big dicks inside you? 

"her real reward is my cum in her womb. gonna make sure she gets pregnant today." jaemin said as he thrusted into you harshly. "my good girl. always obeying me. always make me feel good." your head went dizzy with the praising from jaemin and degradation from donghyuck. "you're squeezing me so tight, baby. that feel good?" jaemin's balls hitting your cunt felt like the thing that has been missing in your life. you finally understood the tension you felt from earlier this morning.

you wanted to have sex with your step brothers. 

"gonna cum." hyuck grunts, still thrusting at your mouth. "gonna cum and you're gonna swallow, alright? be the fucking whore that you are." donghyuck holds your face on his last thrust, keeping it steady like that so he could cum deep in your throat. he sighed once he released his hot liquid and pulled out. "what are you?" he strokes your hair. 

"lee donghyuck's cumslut." your answer gave you a kiss from your step brother where he could even taste his cum on your lips. you then smiled happily before you continued to moan from the feeling of jaemin's cock throbbing inside you. 

the moans went louder as his hips went faster. it didn't help that donghyuck was now sucking on your bouncing tits. 

"fuck fuck fuck, need to fill this hole up." jaemin groaned as you felt him pour his cum into your pussy. it was no surprise that you loved every feeling of it. 

as jaemin pulled away and went to the bathroom, hyuck stayed right there with you, still sucking on your boobs.

"dude, i'm going home." the both of you hear jaemin half yell from outside of your room. 

"yeah, you go do that. i'll have fun with my little fucktoy." donghyuck intertwined his fingers with yours, adjusting his position so his dick meets your pussy.

[gamersansblog]

BRO why am I thinking of this idea!?

Okay okay so listen so I'm thinking of an au where reader is turned into a monster and has a sibling who was also experimented and made her very pretty like a man or women will fall down to their knees for them

Reader gets turned into this 8/9 foot monster and is very dull with emotion and is somewhat aggressive only to the things they claimed as theirs and is always chain if not their just walking around a cage like their waiting for something or sit down and paint if the scientist gave him some paint and a canvas. Bit team 141 plus Las Almas go on a mission to where reader and their sibling is and they rescue both of them and reader just watches them when both of them are healing.

During the stay the sibling gets really clingy to the boys while reader just watches them not fully trusting then and only giving a chitter or a grumble to them.

And Las almas ad team 141 are really jelly because reader is purring around a new member who just excepted his fate and just gave reader effection and reader loves the new member because he was shiny and gave reader little things.

And laswell decided to put the sibling and reader in training and to everyone's shock reader looked like he knew everything how to shoot a gun, how to load a gun, and how to take down a man. It was like his body knew how to do it bit reader just shrugged and went on their day while the sibling was pouting.

141 is fascinated by what reader paints and reader just looks very confused when they gave him a complement and just chitters.

While the sibling is trying to get the boys attention bit failing so and gets pouty.

After a few months reader still giving most of their attention to the recruit while learning new things (like cooking, dancing, speaking, crocheting, knitting) and the sibling is all fussy everyday because the boys sometimes ignore her because she's fucking annoying and shit but never got annoyed when reader came to them and softly tapped them with their sharp claw on their shoulder make them jump sometimes and nod at reader who signed to them for a bit of help not really good at speaking still and they just nod and help them.

But laswell decided to let them go on a mission and team 141 see reader being a shadow and brutal to the enemy's and sibling being good also and making it quick when they kill.

And after a few months they had to raid a house that sold legal info about the military and team 142 had to go and they did and quickly killed everyone and reader was no where to be seen and they were looking for them until they heard a baby cooing and the turn around and see reader with big pupils like a cat and purring really loudly while holding the tired/giggling baby.

And reader decides to take care of them baby with laswells permission and when she says yes reader is taking care of that baby like holding the baby, feeding the baby, staying up all night for the baby all of that.

And 141 and Los almas (including konig) fall inlove with reader slowly while sibling is still trying to talk with them 24/7 and shit.

Bro I've been fucking thinking kf this shit for a long time and if someone made this I'm on my fuciing knees for them.

I know I know what yall will say "gamer your a writer why don't you make it?" Yes I know I can make it but I'm lazy and currently working of requests and my pacific rim fanfic

But if I have the time and if yall are really interested on this would yall tell me to make it?

But seriously if someone made this before me I'm on my knees for them.

Ps: send me a link if yall make this fic pls and thank you <3

[whoslaurapalmer]

it's not that I'm upset this friend is getting married it's more I'm upset that we don't speak regularly bc we've known each other since childhood but a few years ago I felt like she was always chastising me when I texted her bc she was always coming back with how she was Doing Something when I messaged her and it was probably just innocuous yknow but I also felt bad that I was the only one who texted first and I was like no okay ill address this like an adult and the next time I see her we'll have an adult conversation about it bc we're adults and it'll be fine but we didn't bc she was busy and then we just didn't really talk except to say happy birthday and if I did more in the conversation she'd always say I could talk to her whenever but I didn't bc we didn't talk anymore so I just felt like she still didn't want to hear it and we would never be able to actually have a conversation anymore!! so we just don't really talk and her parents moved last year so they're no longer 5 minutes from my house and that's, yknow, weird to think of anyone else living there, but she's not going to be in the neighborhood anymore, not like we were talking but god yknow, so there's a lot of reasons I have Feelings about her announcing her engagement that encompass 'I had no idea she was rhat serious with this boyfriend' 'why would she have told me anyway!' 'So many people I know irl are getting married have gotten married and I am 29 and never dated but it's not like I don't want to and I shouldn't compare my life to theirs but do I ever secretly worry the people I know, or knew, look at me differently for never having worked for not having dated yet for being disabled? uh well yeah I do. so I am still kind of comparing bc I haven't done it yet and I think they're comparing. I lost the thread here for a second.' 'there's so many people I don't even talk to anymore and I feel like when they get married it's like I can't talk to them ever again because our lives are too different. but we weren't even talking anymore BEFORE they got married so what's the point of thinking this.' 'lulu you're literally friends with 2 delightful married couples. but that's different bc I was still good friends with them before they got married.' 'it's really not that deep it's just that life changes but sometimes it's really sad and idk I just missed her friendship but every time I get into a 'I missed your friendship' convo despite both sides agreeing nothing changes.' anyway I'm just trying to crochet another fucking frog.

[fuck-customers]

Garden center anon here

There's this woman, probably mid sixties, and to say there is something deeply wrong with her is the understatement of this century. We have had problems with her in the past because she loves to buy trees that will be absolute behemoths for her tiny condo. The condo association has literally told her she is not allowed to have them (for good reason!) but nope here she is with a fucking Colorado blue spruce (mature height is like 50 ft to give you an idea of how much this baby needs its space) and an arborvitae (about 25 ft tall on average but can go waaaay bigger). And not ONLY has she gotten the most condo-inappropriate plants you could possibly think of, but she was calling us daily because this fucker had decided to keep them in their nursery pots, which they had already outgrown, for a year, and she was surprised that the plants ended up with pest insects. No matter how many times myself and the manager, both horticulurists by trade with a half a century of experience between us, told her they need to be planted and then here is this spray, make sure to water regularly. Every day she would call and be concerned over the same thing (but would recall exactly what we told her yesterday) and this went on for MONTHS, nearly our entire season. She would even bring in bits of branches that looked like they'd been ripped off (cuz yeah, everything likes pieces of themselves yanked off their bodies right) to show us what we had already diagnosed. It's like she was fishing for a new answer so she was trying the same question, just phrased differently, over and over and was stunned that we kept our stories straight! Shocker!

Fast forward to now, it was a really rainy day and we see her brightly colored little car pull up and my coworker and I nearly start sobbing. She walks in in her floor length puffy winter coat, with a tank top, a skirt, flip flops and leg warmers??? and begins asking us if we can inspect these sugar pumpkins for bruises (pumpkin...doesnt....bruise???!!!) and I pretend I've inspected them thoroughly and yup, no bruises here. She asks where our bathroom is. We point to it. She is in their for about 12 minutes and I'm dreading what is going on in there. Comes back out, is asking about how to keep pumpkins from bruising 😭😭😭 asks all sorts of weird questions about just the stuff we are doing (which was like, spot-watering plants or dusting the shelves cuz we are bored) and just isn't leaving! Asks where our bathroom is AGAIN! And is in there for a couple minutes. Finally she takes her fuckin pumpkins and leaves. I've finished everything for today so I sit down and pull some crochet work out of my backpack.

I heard my coworker go "mother...fucker" and look up to see that damn car pull back in. It is 5:49 and we close at 6. She asks for our bathroom AGAIN!!! IT'S BEEN TWENTY MINUTES!!! Ends up getting another sugar pumpkin. And then she just...wouldnt leave. She kept hanging around and asking weird questions about things we are doing. We are visibly uncomfortable. And then she goes "is it 6?" And I lie and say yup, just turned 6, we're closed (it was like 5:58). And she just is like, okay, bye. And walks out.

Did this fucker just PURPOSELY come back with the intention of holding us hostage til close???? Why do older, lonely people think they get to force themselves on retail workers?

[aitchnkay]

Jiang Gunian Made A Change Part 18

Character archetypes exist for a reason, Xia KeXin mused, watching Jiang YanLi almost scurrying from the Jin section of the camp to stop to talk with Lan WangJi and then hurry off to the Nie camp. Maybe Miss MXTX read Pride and Prejudice, and maybe she didn't. Either way, everyone knows that the Miss Elizabeth Bennett archetype marries the Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy archetype. And Miss Jane Bennett marries Mr. Charles Bingley. Miss YanLi is obviously more of a Jane Bennett so why did she marry a Darcy figure? Xia KeXin looked down the street to where Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi were packing. MXTX got that pairing right. Wei Ying is such an Elizabeth Bennett to Lan Zhan's Darcy. Colin Firth is the sexiest Mr. Darcy on screen; I'll allow this Lan Zhan or his actor Wang YiBo would give him a run for his money in the wet shirt contest. Why did I have to transmigrate into a forty-seven year old fortune teller instead of into one of their bodies? She looked down at her wrinkled skin on her hands and sighed. I'm not even that old. Back home women in their forties were still getting their groove on. Here? Everything hurts when I wake up. Or try sitting on the mats. Thank God for that carpenter! She had found one of the Wen civilians was a carpenter and commissioned him to make her a rocking chair. It had been a grueling process, as he'd never tried to make the curved runners, and she had no idea how to draw a rocking chair to scale, but the end product was well worth it. Several other women had openly eyed the rocker, thinking how useful it would be to be able to sit comfortably while nursing babies or trying to put them to sleep. Or for just taking an afternoon rest.

But back to Jiang YanLi. Obviously Jane Bennett marries Mr. Bingley. Wealthy, kind to everyone, the part where Mr. Bennett says they'll outspend their income is optional, I suppose. As are his annoying sisters and bland brother-in-law. Jin ZiXuan is wealthy, so.... She frowned at her crochet project. Wealthy, yes. But too damn proud to be Bingley. And definitely not kind enough. He's definitely a Darcy 2.0 more than a Bingley. Yeah, so he ends up completely besotted with YanLi. Big whoop. She deserves someone who doesn't need to be smacked in the proverbial face before he realizes what kind of woman she is. So... wealthy and kind? The only one here that fits that bill is... Lan XiChen? Xia KeXin rocked a bit faster, thinking of how the handsome sect leader looked standing next to Jiang YanLi. They do look good together, don't they.... YanLi looks good in that pale lavender she perfers, so I'm guessing that she'll look good in those pastel blues XiChen wears, too. She can even mix and match, probably... White under robes with lavender as her next layer and her outer layers blue.... Or purple, white, blue? That would probably look best? Or... what's that... ombrage? No. What's it called? Xia KeXin internally rolled her eyes at failing to remember the word. It's right on the fucking tip of my tongue! Ombrange? Katie did it to her hair right before we went on vacation, too. In almost the same colors as I'm trying to see for YanLi. Shit! Blue on top fading into purple at the bottom. Not ombrage! She looked up at the sky and mentally screamed at herself. "Got my tongue stuck between my eyeteeth, so I can't see what I'm saying," she spoke out loud in English.

"Did you say something?" a woman passing by asked.

"Just talking to myself," Xia KeXin smiled. Ombre! That's the word. Or Ballyage. I am such a dumb idiot sometimes. Ombrage. What the Hell, Summer? Don't you dare lose your English. It's all I have to remind myself who I was.

She picked up her crochet project and continued the row, thinking about how to get Jane and Bingley together. It just made more sense than Jane and Darcy 2.0.

[springbons]

hey, that character building thing.

10, 4, 32. all FM. i NEED to know more about these people

Ahh Hello Ori. [Pulls FighterZ Frieza Intro Pose] So, you have Arrived in my Inbox. Unfortunately, we have MIGRATED a good bit, but just for you I shall update the terms. 10, 4, 32, CY. (I REALLY DID JUST TOSS EVERY CHARACTER I'VE EVER PLAYED FROM THIS INTO HERE HUH? AT THIS POINT I MIGHT ASWELL TOSS IN THE VILLAINS /j) 10. "What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?" Riktor - "I have a PhD in spellcasting!" Derringer - "I. Do not. Fucking. Care." (< Physically unable to actually care about things, but says it in the most passive-aggressive way possible just because it keeps people away from him.) Kurt - "I have Zero idea how much shit is stuffed up here." (In reference to his skull, and the fact it's Bigger On The Inside) Kelp - "Sss" (Oh, right, uhh... He's asking if you have any fruit. They're his? It's? ("we're not quite sure"s) favorite food.) Tarrel's DEAD but we'll toss him in anyway since Sparrow's hellbent to get him back. He's relevant enough. Tarrel - "I'm an Engineer!" ('And that's... All I ever will be. :,)') Moira - "I served two tours in Iraq." (And it's plagued her ever since.) Vyra - "...I'm dating a slime :)" (...Yeah she's not on the Team right now but she came by just to say that.) 4. "What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?" Riktor - "Studying really gets you in the zone! It lets you relax and the time passes so quickly. It's like I don't even have to exist! ...I-I like existing though, don't take that the wrong way." Derringer - "I liked Studying. It let me Exist At All." Kurt - "Punting. People. Men. Comrades. Enemy walls. Over! Sometimes into." Kelp - (It says it Likes To Kill, but it hasn't been able to do much of that since it found Kurt again... Cuddling is fine too.) Tarrel - "I mean... A lot of things? I think death inherently... Divorces you from a lot of your uhm... Interests... I'd say I miss Sparrow the most though. I didn't see her as a hobby, but I was probably a hobby to her. I hope I was a good one..." Moira - "YIKES. I used to crochet in my spare time, lost the muscle memory when I went in the war. Didn't have time to. I think Kurt STARTED crocheting MID-BATTLE one time JUST to spite me on that. I couldn't stop laughing when I noticed he somehow brought an entire bag of crochet supplies and needles and all that bullshit. I think there was even a TABLE!" Vyra - "a table??? Uhh I really liked bomb making! That had a fun mix of thrill and excitement, but it also reminded me of baking in some aspects. I can still smell the good old days whenever I clean my house. :)" Moira - "What making."

32. "If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?" Riktor - Assault is technically not a small crime but he Would slap people if they said stupid shit for too long so it falls under the Petty category. He doesn't want to hear about the manager and coupons, Karen, he's trying to buy a book to SUMMON THE DEAD Derringer - "Do you have any idea how impossibly long that list is? You couldn't pick anything notable out amongst the storm." (Shoplifted a box of salt because the guy stocking the salt was a Dick and he wanted to know if he could get away with it. (He did.)) Kurt - Trespassing. You already know. Kelp - THIS one is impossible because of how SMALL the list is. I do not think it'd pull any crime that wasn't fully justified unless it was following Kurt's lead. So, trespassing. Tarrel - Disturbing the peace. He's like Colin Furze, his house would sound like machinery all day and all night. Walking construction site, this guy. Moira - Breaking into the Pentagon. Yes, this is out of Pettiness. No, she hasn't done it yet. Yes, she Will later down the line. Vyra - Is hanging people off a roof in a mildly threatening manner like a vigilante a Misdemeanor or a Felony?

[jandiaries]

“go eat your greens”

powerpoint revolution presents pretty privilege

You are pretty and pretty much privileged, you are in no position to tell us about the inequalities surrounding in this world.

once upon a time, in a place where we both stand... “this is so wrong, we should change this” the pretty girl said. but little did she know...

close your eyes, free your thoughts and imagine cassie from euphoria. she wakes up, removes her bath and body works eye patch, goes to her huge bathroom to begin her fifteen steps morning skin care routine she learned from a Korean beauty vlogger Song Hyo Min aka prettypinkpossum12.

after that lengthy procedure she goes down to have her plant based breakfast. she tells everyone that she’s vegan but she eats cheeseburger whenever she likes. there she goes, posting on her instagram story a bowl of yogurt and whatever mixed veggies. for the final touch, she put the hashtag “go eat your greens” but she did not even touch that fucking salad.

her life isn’t complex. she’s born privileged, a nepo baby, she gets whatever she wants. a twitter activist but her activism just stays on that blue bird app. a fake feminist who only cares about her body type, an influencer on tiktok who was once cancelled for mocking android users but pretty girl just pulled off a macarthur and returned unharmed with a different username. she also posts “support small business!” via ig story but that’s just her rich friend’s shop selling overpriced crochet bucket hats. lastly, she’s pretty. she could do no wrong in the eyes of society. she’s aware of her privilege but never admits it. like spoiled crazy claiming she’s a self made baby. i don’t like her but most of all i don’t like her principles.

she goes to a school where according to her, “everybody likes her, haters just wanted to live her life”. she acts as if she’s a modern day regina george. just with the additional cup of slay (admittedly) and bad attitude (oh boy). her overwhelming confidence is her female rizz. she only cares about herself. ironically, on that day, she was set to present a lecture about The Changing World (and what can we do about it).

she doesn’t even know anything. she is out of touch privileged, the worst type. she thinks she’s smart because she knows conspiracy theories, basic algebra, memorized amy dune’s cool girl monologue and the tiktok sped up chorus of enchanted in one sitting. what makes her stupid is the fact that she pretends to know but in fact she doesn’t know a thing. she’s either unaware or she doesn’t simply care because it doesn’t directly affect her, her status, her lifestyle, her everyday life.

she screams politically correct. the truth is, she’s just pretty pretentious. she’s like a break free manipulative female character reject from ottessa moshfegh stories. (oh shit)

she tells everyone to shift to a plant based diet because meat harms nature but is an avid fast fashion consumer. if i had the extra money i would love to print her a statement shirt “practice what you preach” with “because i can’t do it” in lowercase.

but there she goes with her powerpoint revolution, i mean presentation, condemning everyone for their carbon footprints... condemning everyone except herself.

—  

I always find it funny when the rich get to talk about Change. While they actually have the power to do so, it just seems like an airy idea. They don’t get to tell the actual story. They only have an internet perspective of what it’s like to be oppressed. If they want to change, they will only move to the parts that will be beneficial to them. As Edith from Enola Holmes has said “because you have no interest in changing a world that suits you so well”. Exactly. Why would they bother to change their perfect world and lives?

While you try to tell everyone about your perspective of good, you should take into consideration that not everyone has the privilege to just abruptly change their lifestyle. You have to acknowledge that you stand in a special place of privilege to do that.

I once read that the idea of a "personal carbon footprint" was popularized by BP, the world's 6th largest polluter. I have been thinking about it ever since. Big companies can evade responsibility by saying Hey girl, slow down on what you consume you’re destroying Mother Earth but here I am emitting a potent greenhouse gas. Same energy as that pretty girl. Politically correct people mostly come from privileged lives. They can seem to see all the disparity in society because they don’t have daily societal struggles. Girl, they can see the most absolute shit and still advocate for it. Pick a struggle Miss Ma’am. Like why would the marginalized care so much about free speech or eradicating plastic straws when they are struggling for survival on a daily. 

Then we blame them. For not understanding, for not cooperating, for not caring, for every reason possible. 

All we have produced over the years are all band-aid solutions. Global Warming? Quit plastic straws. Air Pollution? Switch to almond milk. Climate change? Recycle your Pepsi bottle. It’s not wrong. At least they’re doing something. Yeah. But it does not hit the core of the problem. It’s all becoming an individual responsibility. I wish this pretty girl and her likes just devoted their energy and wealth to demanding accountability from mega oil companies and other pollution-contributing corporations rather than giving a boring PowerPoint lecture about Claygo. Clean as you go, she said. You should’ve just shut up.

Maybe this other girl let her intrusive thoughts win. She stood up and said, “Shut up”. The pretty girl was stunned, puzzled but later on gave a mocking smirk. She then proceeded to tell everyone in that lecture room how she felt disrespected, blah... blah... blah... I guess this is it. Everyone went quiet when the other girl went in front and said  “You are pretty and pretty much privileged, you are in no position to tell us about the inequalities surrounding this world. We know who you are. Stop faking your principles.”

I paused.

This scene reminds me so much of the catfights in Euphoria. I told the girl beside me.

"Because the pretty girl looked like Cassie?”

"No.”

"Then why?”

“Cause it’s a cultural reset.”

-jan, thoughtballoon

November 19, 2022

Cover Design:  Pickles by ERIKA LEE SEARS  Graphics: Canva, Pinterest

[aswrittenbyisa]

jan. 20, 2023: long story short...

Hi and welcome,

I haven't really sent many letters before, even though I've always loved the idea, and so I'm still trying to figure things out. Should I really do this? What should I even talk about? Why would anyone care? I don't think it really matters. I've never been much of a constant person, something I'm not proud to say in any way, and I got used to having phases being the one thing that never changed. I've had phases of hobbies, of favorite actresses, favorite music to listen to, phases of fashion choices and of inner disturbances. But writing is the one thing that's always been there, it's the only constant. Most of you even reading this know me because at some point I decided to write something, and otherwise we might have never met! Others know me not because of what I write, but you know me and I write, and it's one of those things where the two walk together, it is what it is.

Point of it is, writing is definitely one of the things that got me through the last year, and it's been mostly me writing in my room, be it like a poorly planned voiceover in my journal or a perfectly dramatic (and let's be real, camp) collection of characters that live in my head and dig around my thoughts, my feelings and memories and pick which ones they will dissect that day. Sadly, it's just so much easier for me to share through these fictional reveries than to actively talk to so many of you, and so I decided to share something personal with people that make my days better one way or another. Thanks for being here!

I mostly wanted to write this down, put it out on the world, let it be known: this last year was shit. I'm not a believer of good and bad years, by the way - I think it's bullshit. But I've truly never felt worse, and it's not something I think I could have changed. I guess I just had to feel these things. I had to look back and think of all that there was, and isn't here anymore... I thought it was nostalgia at first, and then realized it was something else. I was lonely, suffocatingly so, and when I realized, everything I did all year long was just this silly, giant attempt at keeping the things and the people that I miss close to me. I don't think this is something that will ever go away; it's kind of a part of me, the pain of grief, of not really knowing where to put all the love and the hopes I had of getting to know the people I already lost. I'll never see them again, they'll never know me for anyone other than who I was when they last saw me. And so this year was just this huge patchwork of unexpressed love; I found my grandma's old crochet needles, I made something out of it. It was nothing, now I can wear it outside. So many of the movies my uncle called me to talk about, we never really got to talk about. I saw some of them this year, who am I gonna talk to now that I did? Doesn't matter, I watched them now, I'll just keep that to myself. Also, my fucking dad, right? Where does he even fit in this? I was kind of robbed of all the anger I felt for him, I was robbed of the resentment of never having him around, because now he's gone. Who am I going to be angry with? This dead guy? Come on, I know me better than that. He just doesn't matter, he wasn't around... but he gave me a sister, and I'll forever be her big sister now. And that one day when dad came over, he had The Winner Takes it All playing on the car stereo, he knew I like ABBA. I'll never be angry to his face again, we'll never sing ABBA together in his car. I wrote him a letter before he passed but he never got to read it, and now this letter is all around me everywhere. I was just my past mes dancing in my bones and recoiling inside like, you're never getting rid of us. That's fine too. If I made it through this year, I should be fine.

Here's my 2023 manifestation board: I will be happy, I will be at peace, I will continue to make things with my hands that will prove to me that I'm still here, I'll watch even more movies, I'll cook for myself and my loved ones, I'll be gentle, I'll get a new job. I'll learn so many new things. Maybe I'll get bangs. Maybe I'll get a tattoo, even though I have no idea what I would even get. I'll definitely take better care of my health. I'll be at peace...

I'm really looking forward to changing things around in my life, and I really miss studying. I always think about that quote by Sylvia Plath where she talks about seeing her life as all these branches on a tree, and all possible choices lead to this beautiful fruit hanging from each branch, but she never picks one of those fruits to eat because choosing one means losing all others, and so all fruits rot and fall in front of her before she can make a choice... That's it, right? There's not a deadline to when I must make a decision and pick one fruit, one life road instead of all others... but standing still means seeing all options rot and fall. I'd love to move to a mountain's foot, write for a living, have an unholy amount of animals to care for; I'd love to become the next biggest name on fashion journalism, maybe take the chair of Anna Wintour in a few years; I'd love to write screenplays and make movies; I'd love to travel the world and write a recipes book of all the things I discover; I'd love to work at a flower shop, learn all about flowers; I'd looooove to study history and art and work at a library, or museum, study millennia-old things for a living. I'd love to be able to pick an option soon. Maybe by the end of the year I'll have made up my mind...

I hope the last year's been easier on you than it was on me, and have the best wishes in mind for the year to come. I don't think it's been any less than messy for all of us, with grief and heartbreak and fear all over, but the good news are here: Long story short... we survived.

Thanks for stopping by! Mwah!  Isa

[zmediaoutlet]

jsyk “the constant vow” is murdering me slowly, chapter by glorious chapter. and what a heavenly way to die! some things I’ve loved thus far, in no particular order: 1. forehead 👏 kisses 👏2. pixie-cut dean’s last ditch attempt at drawing one (1) single boundary between himself and his little brother by denying sam his mouth during sex, followed by his immediate surrender lmao. like how do you maintain a wall between yourself and your literal soulmate when said soulmate is fucking (1/?)

fucking you brains out? it can’t be done. bless him for trying.3. sam’s halting confession that he thinks he’d enjoy going downtown on a dude, if…. if!!!!! 4. “Shouldn't let it get used to people.” holy heck, what a metaphor :((( this moment felt like a gut-punch after dean’s aforementioned failure at self-preservation. he KNOWS the danger they’re in, but they crossed the point of no return long ago, even before dean got himself cursed by a peggy bundy impersonator. (2/?)

5. speak of the devil: “how we know we did our job.” you REALLY brought me around on denise. bravo.6. actually, the entire day leading up to denise’s visit is flawless. you drove them right up to brink, so it was basically impossible for them to rationalize away or compartmentalize the sex any longer; unable to ignore their nighttime confessions. sam gearing up to cross the final line, only to be thwarted by denise. not to MENTION his subsequent bedside drawer discovery. so good!!! (3/4)

(4/4) I can’t thank you enough for gifting us with this beautiful NOVEL about two of my all time favorite characters. at the risk of sounding ungrateful or impatient; do you have a general idea when the final installment will be ready? I only ask bc I’d like to reread all 100k words before the last chapter goes live. I want to be fully primed for the emotional climax lmao.

Oh bud. Oh gosh. Well.

a) I am so glad you are enjoying the thing. It has been, to put it lightly, a goddamn son of a bitch to wade through this last chapter, and it's cool to know there's some enthusiasm about getting there, lol

b) THANK YOU FOR LIKING THE DEER MOMENT. it's like. symbolism and whatnot. I think you're the only person to point it out and I was feeling very self-indulgey but. Woo you, haha.

c) Denise is my bud at this point. --that's not true, I would try to kill her with a crochet hook within two hours, but it's cool that the general mood seems to be 'aww this idiot, she's a hell of a broad.' Just imagine her squishing you to her immense Peggy-esque bosom. :)

d) as far as final chapter: last night I was feeling super optimistic and tonight I am feeling wildly not optimistic, but I really don't want to get hit by the 2x4 of self-doubt and misery again. Best-case we're looking at Friday, to get back on schedule. I really, really want to make that happen; we'll have to see. If not, then I'll try REALLY VERY HARD for Wednesday of next week.

Pro-tip, this is why you don't start posting before the thing's fully done. Confidence is a lie. But also, never fear, this one will get finished. If nothing else I want to check it off the to-do list. Thanks for liking it, bud. It genuinely means a lot. <3

[tobesoalive]

latch (Sam Kiszka x reader)

hey guys here's the little Sam enemies to lovers smut that was requested! idc if it’s a bit cheesy, I had a ton of fun writing it so please please please send in more requests! I love helping your ideas come to life! 

Warnings: Smut (Oral-f and m receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex)

Friday had finally rolled around and you were more than ready. After a long week of classes and work you were more than ready to have some fun tonight. You and your roommates were going to have some people over tonight to celebrate your second year of college almost being over. You had come up with the idea last weekend and quickly made a list of who all should be invited. There was one person on the guest list that you were dreading to see, no other than Samuel Kiszka.

You had met a kid named Danny Wagner in your first class freshman year, and you two became fast friends, sharing many of the same interests and hobbies. Together you and Danny were a dynamic duo, and you always made each other laugh. People often thought you were dating, but he already had a beautiful girlfriend back home. Danny also had another person constantly attached at his hip, Sam Kiszka, you’d almost think they were the ones dating.

Sam was a lanky kid with sharp features and an extremely annoying god complex. He really thought he was the absolute shit and that everyone was in awe of him. Quite honestly many people were, but you saw right through it. You found him to be arrogant and rude, and you were always disappointed to see him when you went over to Danny’s place, even though he was his roommate. Sam would often show up unannounced at your place too, mostly with Danny, but a couple of times he showed up alone. You were always polite, inviting him in like the good host you are, and you two ended up watching a movie together, and much to your surprise, in these times he was almost tolerable. Almost. He would make a snide remark or joke that would infuriate you, but he wouldn’t stick around for long, usually having somewhere to be. That somewhere was usually the bed of another girl, but they probably didn’t just watch movies.

That was another reason you couldn’t stand Sam. Last year you had a crush on him and he would do the thing where he would play with your emotion, hang out with you and flirt with you only to immediately go and fuck random girls. It hurt you, a lot, but you eventually got over it, losing the romantic feelings, or rather pushing them deep down where you’d hope they’d never surface again.

Now people were going to be at your house in an hour and you haven't even showered. It didn’t really matter though, you weren’t all too concerned with what other people thought of your appearance, so what if your hair was a little wet. You quickly rinsed off in a cold shower, then changed into a simple outfit for the night, flared corduroys and a crocheted tank top.

That was the other thing, you’d think you were exactly Sam’s type, he seemed like he would be into girls who were more artistic and down to earth, but all the girls he hooked up with seemed like they spent most of their time thinking about themselves. Not that there was anything wrong with those girls, you weren’t the “pick me” type, but it seemed like Sam would care about that kind of thing. Whatever, you don’t even like him anyways, he’s more of a nuisance than anything.

You had finished a seltzer by the time people started arriving, the playlist you and your roommates curated playing throughout the apartment. Being with your friends always made you very energetic, and people always said they liked being around you. You could get a crowd laughing in no time. People were coming through the doors and when there were about 75% of the people there, your partner in crime finally arrived. “Wagner!” you shouted across the room in a dumb accent, already a little buzzed. “Where art thou good friend?!” Danny yelled back, matching your accent as you two finally made your way to each other, wrapping him in a friendly embrace. “Where’s your obnoxious sidekick?” you whispered into his ear.

“Don’t worry he’s here. I know how you were just dying to see him.”

“Oh aren’t I always?” you responded with a sarcastic smile

“I still think you need to give him a chance, you’d probably really like him.”

Before you could even respond, he was running up behind Danny and lifting him up by his waist.

“Well if it isn’t dumb and dumber!” you exclaim before Sam comes up and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh come on (y/l/n), you love me!”

“Haha good one Kiszka, now why don’t we do something I actually love.”

“And what would that be?” Danny questions.

“Take a shot and dance our asses off!” you yell. If you were going to deal with Sam you needed to be a little more intoxicated.

You gathered your roommates and the boys and took them to the kitchen and got out the glasses.

“To friendship!” you yelled

Right then you caught danny say something quietly, and it looked like he was saying “Or more than friendship”

That made you stop for a second before throwing your head back and downing the shot.

“Ok let's get back out there” your roommate says as she pulls you by the arm.

You spend about the next half hour dancing with all your friends, taking hits of joints and drinking. You and Danny did a silly little dance you had come up with last year when you would get drunk in your dorms and do dumb shit. Mid-routine he slipped and pulled you down with him, both of you laughing your asses off. You felt someone grab your arm and help you up as the song changed, “Latch” by Sam Smith blasting through the speakers, one of the best party songs probably ever. The person who had grabbed you wrapped their arms around your waist, swaying back and forth with you to the music. You loosened the stranger’s grip and spun around only to be met with the face of that little shit, Sam.

“C’mon kid can’t you at least try to tolerate me for one song”

“Who ever said you were intolerable?” you respond, admiring how the dim light highlighted his features.

He leaned in close to your ear and lowly whispered in it “You think I can’t see it. Whenever you’re around me you act like it’s charity work.”

You pull back to look him in the eyes and say “It wasn’t always that way. Now let's get back to what we were doing. I like this song more than I like you, which is quite a lot.”

He gives you a grin before you start moving your body against him, and by the end of the song he’s staring at you in complete awe.

Once the song ended you broke free from his grasp. “See you later Kiszka” you say with a wink, turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

Your stomach was in knots, and not from disgust. The moment you just had brought up a lot of emotions, mostly about your romantic feelings for Sam but also the resentment you felt towards him. Fuck, you were in deep now. Things would be so much easier if you never had to see him again and all of this could go away. But alas, you needed to suck it up so you could still have a close relationship with Danny. Plus in about twenty minutes Sam would probably be grinding on another girl. Screw it, you were going to have a good time with your friends, you didn’t need Sam to be happy.

The rest of the night you avoided Sam, giving him zero of the attention he was craving. A couple hours later people were leaving your home or asleep somewhere in the living room, bathroom, kitchen you name it. Thankfully though, your room remained empty, you needed some space to think.

Everyone was asleep and the house was quiet, you threw on a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized Led Zeppelin shirt, passed down to you from Danny. You went to the kitchen and drank probably a gallon of water, making one last pit stop to the bathroom to pee and brush your teeth. No matter how tired you felt you knew you'd thank yourself in the morning. Finally you were on the way back to your room when you stopped in the doorway. Sam was standing in there, looking at all your decorations and your extensive vinyl collection.

“You’ve changed some stuff since the last time I was here”

“Yeah, I like to rearrange stuff y'know? keep it new and interesting.” You remarked, rubbing the back of your neck and yawning, trying to hide your obvious panic. This is the last thing you were hoping for, being confronted one on one with the man himself.

“Are you cool if I stay here tonight? Daniel is passed out on the couch and I don’t feel like making the walk home alone.”

“Of course...did you want to sleep in here?” you ask before you could even stop the words from coming out of your mouth. Fuck, you were a dumbass.

“If that’s okay with you, sleeping next to a stranger wouldn’t be my first choice.”

“You never had a problem being in a stranger’s bed before” you mumbled, looking at the floor.

He didn’t say anything, just turned his head to stare at you for a second, his eyes seeming almost apologetic.

“Well you might as well get comfortable” you tell him as you turn off the lights and flick the lamp on.

“Do you have a shirt I could borrow? I don’t really wanna sleep in jeans and a sweaty shirt.”

“Would you like an old one of Danny’s or one of mine?” you tease him, grabbing out yet another old band shirt of his roommate’s.

While he’s changing you turn away and busy yourself with lighting some incense and pulling the covers back, to avoid seeing his bare torso.

“Can I throw on a record? I can never get to sleep in the silence.”

“Help yourself” you say, but he already has a selection in his hands, Michigan by Sufjan Stevens, one of your favorites.

“Wonderful choice, but I imagine you’re a bit biased.” you say to him, both he and Danny were from the same town in Michigan and had to let everyone know.

“I just wanted something calm and serene, compared to all the fast paced stuff we’ve been blasting for the whole night.”

“Well it was a party Samuel, you have to give the people what they want” you tell him as you climb into bed.

Sam grabs for one of the pillows and a blanket, but you stop him.

“Were you gonna sleep on the floor like a dog? I don’t give a shit whether or not we share the bed.”

“I just assumed...I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable...or anything.”

“You might be surprised by this but I actually feel pretty safe around you” you confess to him. Fuck, you were still slightly intoxicated so your filter was off. It’s okay, he was still a little drunk too it seemed.

“Do you mind if I take my pants off?” he asks you with a sincere look on his face.

You can’t help but burst out laughing, finding his awkwardness and the absurdity of the comment quite hilarious.

“I’d prefer it to your rough jeans...as long as you’re wearing underwear.”

“C’mon I’m not that much of a freak” he says as he pulls down his zipper and clumsily kicks his pants off.

You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, he looked gorgeous quite honestly, long hair tangled, old shirt hanging off his shoulders and shark boxer briefs stopping at his mid thigh.

“Okay Kiszka, get in here before I change my mind.”

He pulls back the sheets and crawls in, laying his head on the pillow facing you.

“I’m sorry” he says, looking deeply in your eyes, seeming almost ashamed.

“About what?” you knew you shouldn’t feed into this, whatever was going on here was completely platonic and wouldn’t mean anything in the morning.

“Everything. Being such a dick to you. Leading you on. I promise that’s not me, I just, I honestly don’t know how to act around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just the one person who actually kinda intimidates me. Or at least my feelings for you intimidate me.” he sighs.

“Is that why you are always fucking other girls and telling people about it when I’m around?”

“God you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

“Why should I?”

“You shouldn’t. With the way I’ve treated you I honestly don’t expect anything from you, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer and I thought this was as good of a time as any.”

“Sam, can I be honest with you?”

“Of course”

“I actually don’t hate you at all like you seem to think. I can’t stand you because I really do like you, but I gave up on anything happening a long time ago.”

“Well you did a pretty good job of hiding it” he says, moving a little closer to you to the point where your noses were almost touching, the feeling of his breath giving you goosebumps. The music hummed softly in the background as you thought for a second.

“Sam don’t hate me but we’re both kinda drunk and I don't wanna do anything right now. I wanna be there for it, like fully there.”

“I was actually hoping you’d say that. I wanna take in every detail and remember it all. You’re not just another drunken hookup.”

You can’t help but give a soft smile, your cheeks going red.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of cuddling”

“Neither would I” he says as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close as you bury your head in his chest, taking in his scent.

Something overtakes you, and you tilt your head up and press a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“Goodnight Samuel”

“Goodninght kid” he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of your head, and you can feel him breathing in your scent as well, elated to finally feel wanted.

********************************************************************************************************

You wake up to sunlight streaming through your curtains, turning to look at your clock but instead being met with Sam’s chest.

You were sober enough last night to remember everything that happened, Sam’s feelings for you coming to light and vice versa. It made you almost giddy with excitement, not being able to wait until his eyes opened.

You played with his hair, running your fingers through it and moving it from his neck, replacing it with your lips. Soon enough he’s stretching his arms and yawning.

“Any reason you needed to wake me up at 7 am?” he asked you, looking down at you as the pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek.

“Just couldn’t wait to see you I guess”

“That's a first” he says sarcastically, once again staring deep into your eyes.

You could hear the birds singing outside and a refreshing spring breeze made its way into your room through the open window.

You stared at each other for a second longer before he whispered “Can I?”

You nodded your head yes and he dipped his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. It started off sweet and then your lips started moving in a rhythm, his hands grabbing your legs and pulling you onto his lap. He kept kissing you as your tongue made its way into his mouth, causing his hips to buck up into you. You pulled back and let out a soft sigh, basking in the feeling of him growing hard against your core. He took this as an opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and leaving little nips.

“Can I take this off?” you ask him, hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt.

“Please” he groans against your neck.

You pull it off and instantly your hands run along the expanse of his smooth skin, admiring every freckle and mole, fingertips brushing across his nipples. You pull your hands away to pull your own shirt off, blushing a bit, slightly embarrassed to show yourself to him. He takes a moment to stare at the newly exposed skin, pulling you down into a kiss a moment later and mumbling “You’re absolutely stunning” into your lips.

“You’re not too bad yourself” you say with a smile spreading across your face, quickly losing it as you bite your lip when he starts to move his hips once again, his bulge rubbing deliciously against your already wet core.

“I need more of you” he grunts, obviously frustrated.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull his head back a bit, looking down into his eyes before saying “then have me”, pulling him into a kiss.

In a swift movement he flips you both over, kneeling with his legs on either side of you.

“These need to come off” he says, tugging at the waistband of the boxers you slept in. As he pulled them off and the cold air hit your core, you couldn’t help but drink all of him in, admiring just how gorgeous he looked, as if he was sculpted by the gods himself. That moment ended when you felt his middle finger run lightly up and down your slit. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Please Sammy, I need you” you say, surprised at yourself for using that nickname with him.

He looks at you and smiles before lowering his gaze to your dripping cunt, furrowing his brows as he pushes his long finger inside of you. You mewl as he pushes it down to the last knuckle, letting you adjust for a moment before starting to slowly pump in and out.

“Fuck you’re tight. So much better than I imagined.”

“So you’ve thought about this before?” You smirk at him, turning your eyes to look at the sight of his finger pumping in and out.

“Quite a lot actually, I’ve thought a lot about how you taste too” he says before readjusting himself so his head is buried in between your thighs. It only takes a second for his tongue to find your clit as he inserts another finger and starts to pump a little faster.

“Fuck you’re good at this” you say as you let out a breathy moan, hands once again finding their way into his hair. That causes him to moan around your clit, sending vibrations through your whole body. You don’t know how much longer you’d be able to last, with Sam lapping at you like it’s his last meal.

You pull his hair, forcing his lips to part from your sensitive bud, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

“I wanna taste you too” you say before getting up and kneeling on the floor in front of your brd, motioning him to sit with his legs over the side, facing you. You look up at him as you pull his boxers down, length hitting his stomach. You take a second to admire it, with its pink head, a large vein running up the bottom. It was a nice length, with quite a bit of girth to it, surrounded by a small patch of pubic hair. As you wrapped your hand around it you said “not to be weird or anything but your dick is gorgeous”, causing him to let out a light laugh that was quickly stifled when you wrapped your head around the tip of his cock. His fingers intertwined with your hair, lightly pulling it, not forcing you down on his dick like some guys do. You gently moved your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and using your hand to stroke the rest.

“Fuck I need to be inside of you” he groans, tugging at your hair, causing you to pull your mouth off his dick with a small pop.

“Can I ride you?” you question as you make your way back onto the bed.

“Fuck yes, I can’t promise how long I’ll last though” he says, pulling you in for another kiss as you line him up up with your entrance. You run his tip along your slit a few times before slowly starting to lower yourself down, taking your time to adjust to his size. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he throws his head back, letting out a guttural moan.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“So have I” you say before starting to slowly move yourself up and down on him.

It’s lazy and sweet, not perfect or anything, but nothing about this situation really was. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fuck” he remarks as he grabs your hips, fingers sinking into your skin,helping you move up and down on his delicious cock.

“You fill me up so perfectly, god you feel so good”

“I guess it was meant to be baby” he says with a grin, putting his fingers in his mouth then moving them down to rub circles around your clit.

“Fuck Kiszka, if you keep taht up I’m gonna cum.”

“That was my goal, I’m close too” he breathes out as he buries his head in your neck.

You clutch the back of his head as you start to move yourself up and down faster, fucking yourself on his cock.

“Fuck Sam I’m gonna cum”

“Me too babe, where do you want me to?” he asks shakily.

The only word you can muster out is “Inside” as you approach your peak, clenching around him once more before tipping over the edge.

It’s complete bliss as you ride out your high, feeling him give one last deep thrust into you before coating your walls with his warm ropes of seed.

You collapse against him, nuzzling your head into his neck, pressing sloppy open mouthed kisses as you both catch your breath.

He pushes your hair to the side, leaving his lips on your temple while he remains sheathed inside you.

“Thank you” he says, still regaining his breath and returning to reality.

“Don’t leave me” you say softly into his ear.

“I wouldn’t for the world, don’t you worry kid.”

You sit up and look into his soft brown eyes, taking in how much things have changed in the past few hours.

“I don’t hate you. Not in the least. I just hated the idea of not being with you.”

“Same here, but we don’t have to feel that anymore. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You deserve the world, and I want to try my hardest to give it to you.”

“Thank you Samuel, I’ll try to do the same.”

You give him one last long kiss before pulling back, pushing his hair behind his ear and saying “C’mon loverboy, let’s go get some breakfast.”

[hangezoeenthusiast]

The Little Things

gn!reader

pronouns: they/them

person: wilbur soot

summary: there was three things that you and wilbur did together

word count: 848

you were obviously dating wilbur soot, living in the same house as him, in the same bed, all that lovey dovey shit, so there was little things that you and he did together

1. share stuff(mostly clothing) with wilbur

like shirts and sweaters, oh how he loved to see you in his stuff

you looked SO GOOD, LIKE DAMN YOU GO BESTIE

he would feel so shy, seeing you in his sweater that was too big for you

"love, you should wear my stuff more often, it looks great on you."

he secretly simps for you when you walk in the room

oh how good they look, he would think EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. you would even be in a close proximity of him (im listening to wilbur's music rn while making this, pog)

his mind constantly would be, y/n, y/n, y/n, what are they doing, i wanna cuddle with them, where are they, etc.

you would get flustered when he would complement you on your fit

"ohh, you look absolutely in those pants."

"omg, you look great in that sweater."

"why don't you wear that more, your beauty has enhanced even more." (this might sound like shit, but he means you are already beautiful before and after, 10/10 before and 10/10 after)

with him, he would wear your beanies and other stuff that you crocheted, but it would be mostly beanies

like you would make them for him CONSTANTLY since he's such a huge fucking simp for you

"what'cha making love, oh a beanie?" he would secretly scream in his head YES, YES, YES, YES

"love, when are you going to finish the beanie, i wanna show chat," he would pout

"can you wait like 5 more minutes, i'm almost done."

"thanks darling." he would leave, leaving a peck on your cheek

when you finished, you went back to him, sneaked behind him, and put the beanie on his head

"oh shit, you scared me love, did you finish?"

you would nod, and then he would take off the beanie and put it close to the camera

"you see chat, they are SOO good at crocheting."

chat would definitely spam y/n pog

you would make other stuff, like sweaters, winter hats, scarfs, mittens, etc.

he would flaunt them out in public SO MUCH it gives headaches

he would do anything to give you the attention you deserve

you get the idea

2. cooking

cooking with wilbur was REALLY CHAOTIC

like, he couldn't cook a goddamn thing in his life except frozen pizzas, AND THAT DOESN'T EVEN COUNT AS COOKING

so you being the awesome chef you were ;), you obviously had to help your poor boyfriend with cooking

"wilbur, that's salt, not sugar."

"wilby, noo, not 405 degrees, 375 degrees."

he would be so clueless you would probably have to guide him with everything

but when you both make it together, it tastes DELICIOUS

LIKE DAMN, IT WAS A WHOLE COOKED MEAL COURSE (like you ;), jk, don't wanna make you uncomfy)

because of your wonderful cooking skills, it kinda passed onto wilbur

so in the morning, he would make you your favorite meal

"thanks wilby, you're finally catching on."

3. music

and the last thing you would share would be music

you both have your own playlist that you share, filled with his music, one direction, yungblud, halsey, and others (i dont know why, but im seriously addicted to mysoginistic songs, like it brings the BOY out of me that i don't want to unleash, like for example everywhere i go by hollywood undead and she's so nice by pink guy, also my axe by insane clown posse)

you would also have a romantic playlist for dancing

*casually plays as the world caves in by matt maltese*(but seriously, it's a great song, i suggest you listen to it)

music would even go onto him trying to teach you how to play internet ruined me

"it's not that key, it's THAT key."

"y/n WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU ARE BUTCHERING MY SONG."

"sorry wilby 😣 "

he would apologize so much after you said sorry, hugging you and shit, thinking that you were actually sad (TOO BAD BITCH, I AIN'T NO SYMPATHETIC /j)

hahahah, also prepare for him to pop quiz you on random stuff that is significant in your relationship, yaknow, to make sure you love him, JK JK, he's just a bored, lonely boiii

"y/n what was the day we met?""ummm, i believe may 7?""NOO YOU GOT IT WRONG"

you would run away from him, knowing that he becomes full on psycho /j

"COME BACK HERE Y/N, I WANNA GIVE YOU A PRESENT."

so ending that on a crazy note, you do sincererly love wilbur and he with you

you would go miles and miles to be with him

i hate how sappy i got there, but i gotta feed the mcyt/dream smp fans with some fluff, yaknow, to even out the angst and smut/nsfw honestly, i need someone who would be like this

[redorich]

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them. 

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

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There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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